#man got no business being so hot but difficult to fucking draw

[bl00dalchemist]

He’s running away from los wiwis

#scaramouche #pierro #dottore #dottores???? #implied dottoscara #yes #that #mhm #doodles #genshin impact #genshin impact fanart #absolutely crying #i need to draw more stuff with scara look at him #he pretty #i hate drawing pierro though #man got no business being so hot but difficult to fucking draw

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife #9: At the Beach

Can be read with others in series or alone

Summary: You're not too confident at the beach with your body, but Joel's got the best remedy

Warnings: Super fluff!! Some sexy time at the end, unprotected sex, car sex, failed sex, fingering, 1 spank, heavier descriptions of pregnant body 

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You complain how hot it is, the grainy sand stuck on on your thighs, the hot sun blistering your sensitive skin, the onlookers you fear are gawking at your enormous size. The fact you have to wear a bikini now despite always having worn a full piece before the baby train docked. But it just wouldn't fit, and you had to buy a NEW (and even larger sized) two piece to accommodate your must larger figure.

 All of it makes you want to barf and hide in a closet. At the very least wrapped up in a towel—but of course, one towel doesn't even cover over your mid section anymore either!

Not that he's complaining. Joel pulls his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose to let all the light in and, with no shame, gets a glorious look at you as often as he can. You wearing a two piece with your accentuated body now so drastically changed because of him, just absolutely showcasing the evidence of your love making has him struggling to keep his cock down in his trousers. He wants to put his hands all over you and tell everyone yeah, this body? this belly? This woman? You see her? Mine. 

You didn't want to come to the beach. Okay, you did, like, yesterday, when you were scratching his arm off and begging to go sun bathe and wear your new sandals, but clearly, Joel couldn't recognize when you changed your mind last minute in the car ride without actually verbally telling him. He was so busy humming his little 70s tunes on the radio, glancing smiles at you and putting his warm hand on your fat thigh. Completely unaware, despite your reassuring smiles, that you wanted him to turn around right now and go home. Why couldn't the man just read your mind? Why do you have to explain everything to him word for word?

So here you are, a million degrees under the baking sun, sand in your sandals with the whole world of beautiful people apparently on this beach too. You stand there awkwardly, rubbing your arms hoping to shrink down to an ant and scurry away.

Trying to get to your knees is difficult at best, uncomfortable and pathetic, before settling on your bum with that massive tummy in the way of everything. You spread your legs and, fuck, you look like you might as well be pushing this baby out right now in this bloated birthing position. Could they kick you off the beach for looking like this???

Joel doesn’t pay any attention at all. He gets right to being a boy and digging a big hole in the sand like a 14 year old, despite his cracking knees and shifting groans from all the movement he’s got to do.

At least someone here is having a good time.

He carefully scoops the sand with his thick palm, making a smooth, rounded cavern. He even brought a tape measure, which he uses around your tummy first, strangely, and you don't even question it.

Once the hemisphere is dug to his satisfaction, smoothed over with his calloused fingers, he sits back and waves to you. 

You're picking little grains of sand off your moon-sized belly.

He coughs again, and you finally look up.

"Ta da!" He boasts proudly.

You throw your hands up defeatedly at his extremely unimpressive hole. "Okay?"

His lips draw tightly to a thin line, doubt crossing his face. “Wait, just—c’mere. Best part."

He grabs your hands and helps you to lie forward so that your belly has room to dip into the hole. And just like that, for the first time in months, you're lying on your front again.

It’s as if a massive ache in your back is suddenly relieved. "Oh my god! This feels amazing!" You cheer. The pressure your baby had been putting on your lower spine suddenly disappears, and all that weight is so perfectly supported by the carefully measured cradle he dug in the sand. It's been so long since you were in this position, you had dreams of the day you could again.

"Joel, you're—“

"Fuckin' amazin', I know darlin'."

He plants a special cooling pillow in front of you so you can rest your chin above the sand, no strain on your neck.

You sigh loudly, and extremely long, not even aware that it sounds like a pornographic moan.

"Behave, you," he tsks with a raised brow, his whispers tickling your ear.

"Mmmm.”

You wave him off, suddenly enjoying the warm heat of the sun on your bare back.

He lathers your exposed skin with gentle sun screen, massaging your shoulders, neck, sides. He takes special care to realllly rub your butt, 'so you don't burn.' Puts an umbrella over you too for good measure. With the reassuring feeling of Joels hands working out your muscles all over you, the crashing sound of waves in the distance and chirping seagulls, and feeling like you aren’t heavily pregnant for the first time in months, you quickly succumb to a nap.

-

Later when he's got food, double fisting some hot dogs, he sits you up and rubs the sand off your belly with a clean cloth. Joel scarfs the first one down, ketchup drooping down his wrist.

But you’re too distracted, and when you tell him its okay, he eats yours without a second thought. You laugh a little. Poor thing probably got baked under the sun too busy taking care of you.

He chews loudly, jaw working close with the amount of meat and mustard and bread bulging out. You lick your thumb and wipe away the droop of condiment spilling from his lips.

He playfully chases your hand with a bite, growling.

you shake your head. “You fucking weirdo.”

“Mmm. My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

His eyes rake over your body—skin radiant in the sun, so smooth and shiny from the oily sunscreen he had smoothed over you. Like something out of a dream. His dreams, to be exact. Not so appropriate dreams he may have already had after only the first week of dating you, and thinking about the day you might be exactly as you are—pregnant with a his ring on your finger.

Delirious with the sight of you, he leans in and starts kissing you, then groping and suckling alll down to your bloated belly.

"Joel, stop, people are gonna see!"

"Let them see, you're so fucking sexy right now.”

"STOP.” You grasp him a bit more firmly to pull his hungry mouth away from going any further down south. “We're not having sex right now. That's final. Now keep your bad boy parts in your pants.”

He pouts and grumbles, drawing away like a scolded child.

You watch as a group of kids play in the water and laugh, or two young girls collect more sea shells than their little hands can carry. Your hand absent-minded rubs over your belly, wondering what your baby is thinking right this moment. If she had thoughts. If she was listening and seeing through you, and feeling what you might be feeling right now.

Joel watches you. He can see that sense of distant longing in your eyes. 

Remembers when you first started dating, mid 20s and so young, and the first thing you said was you weren't sure about kids. He kind of knew he wanted at least one, but the more he got to know you, the more he was willing to give that idea up if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. It took five years after you got married before he found you trembling but bravely presenting him a positive test, and he had to fight himself to keep all his emotions at bay in case you didn’t want this. You were so quiet, so unreadable. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or not. 

Until you both went to your first ultrasound, and from that minute you saw the little blob on the screen, and the nurse said “meet mom and dad!” Your lives changed. The whole car ride home you were babbling excitedly about baby names, the color of the nursery, what your child might look like (you hoped she or he would look like Joel). 

You’re quiet right now like you were that day. He follows your eyes to the scene of all the kids playing together, their parents watching over and encouraging the sandcastle building or warning not to go too far out into the water: a happy family.

"I want more,” you say quietly, not really even addressing Joel as your eyes are stuck forward.

He just chuckles and shakes his head. “Baby, we still are working on getting one. Gotta wait before we can have another."

"I want her to have a sibling,” you mumble, holding your belly with both hands delicately.

He bends down and kisses your hand resting atop your swell. “I’ll give you as many as you want.... so long as it doesn't exceed two.”

Your head snaps back. “Three.”

"If there's 2, then that's 4 of us, which is the perfect number to sit at any restaurant. 4 is right. Plus a normal car sits 4 people comfortably. Do you really want a third baby being subjected to a middle seat?"

"Mini van?"

"We ain't getting a mini van. Over my dead body.”

"Well we can't use the truck!”

"Ya can put a baby seat in the truck."

You giggle at the imagery. "You've thought about this a lot haven't you, Mr. Miller?”

He's going off about why 4 also is the perfect number in most rollercoaster carts, but you can't help but just look at him, smiling warmly to yourself that you get to call this man yours.

“—I love you."

He stops mid sentence. A little jumped, but never surprised by your words. He caresses your cheek lovingly, his soft lips finding yours. "I love you too," he mumbles just hushed enough for only you to hear.

Your foreheads touch, as if you wanted your minds to meld into one. You kiss him again, then again a little more firmly. And more. Again, more—more, again. Until you're making out with him a little too passionately, your hand drifting south to his caress his Daddy belly and his Daddy parts—

He hand grabs your wrist to stop you. “Honey,” he warns. There’s a glint in his eye that is just barely keeping his mature brain functioning. With your tits all swollen and hefty with milk, spilling out of that poor excuse of a bra and begging for attention, along with your ass spilling out of that g-string-looking triangle hiding your more than likely wet flower... He’s unsure if he can't keep his erection at bay if you keep acting like this while looking like this.

"I want you," you breathe, your lips crashing on his.

"I want you too,” he hums between your insatiable teeth biting along his tongue. “But..."

"But?"

"You said no sex at the beach."

"I know. I'm waiting for you to get off your lazy ass and take me in the truck."

-

Joel had never packed shit up quicker in his life. He’s bunched up bottles and towels and sunglasses and whatever junk he had brought all up in a towel with one arm and ran barefoot to the parking lot, his other hand dragging you as you wiggled excitedly behind him. He throws it all in the truckbed and unlatches the door for you, helping you up with a quick smack to your sandy asscheek. He gets in and rolls up the windows. Not bothering to check if anyone is around. 

You pull him close and start shoving his shorts down.

Its hot and rushed and promising—until you quickly realize your baby does not want any truck-fucking business happening because there's no possible configuration the two of you can get in to have sex with the sheer size of your tummy in the way.

He can sense the tears of frustration welling in your eyes, immediately caressing you as he buckles you in and revs the truck to life. 

“It’s okay, its okay, it's okay, we'll have car sex again after she's born, how's that? Just a beautiful girl you are. Too sexy like this. Need to do it on a comfortable bed, that’s all. Can't have ya all to myself whenever I want, huh?"

You nod, desperate to suck up all your tears. Quite frankly you know that you ugly cry, and Joel knows you ugly cry, and you don’t want to ugly cry. You remember that your pussy is wet and waiting to get home so he can spoil you properly.

He continues to adoring rub over your belly, a constant affection of his touch reminding you to stay level. With one hand gripping the wheel, eyes trained forward, he glides down over your naval and urges you to part your legs.

You slip back a bit, giving him the widened access he needs to dip his middle under your bikini bottoms and between your slick folds. You moan loudly, hips arching forward to get more of his finger rubbing along your swollen clit.

“Joooeeeeeel,” you whimper impatiently. He can’t dip any more than an inch of his finger in you due to the stretch of his arm over you belly. Instead, he swipes along your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your nub.

"Ahhh, oh sweetheart, you’re just drippin' me." He retracts his hand and plunges his finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and over and sucking your juices clean off with a pop.

You eye his bulge stabbing through his trousers. "I wish I could suck you off right now." You whine, squeezing your achy breasts and hoping he can steal a glance at you.

"Mmm, those were good times, huh?"

You groan, frustrated. Turns out the baby was cock blocking you in numerous ways from doing things you enjoyed in your youth. Your “youth” feeling like it just a few months ago when driving BJs were your favorite way of nearly getting pulled over.

Eventually you do get home, and you throw the seatbelt over. This baby was NOT stealing truck-fucking from you. Not. Today. 

Joel can’t stop your rush. You’re clambering over the dash, knee pressing into Joel’s bulge painfully and elbowing his chest trying to get into a position.

"Okay wait—just—OW! Hon—s-urgghh— HOLD ON.”

You maneuver him to sit at the center of the back seat, with your back facing him and ass hovering over his cock. He’s protectively holding your waist in your squatting position. You sit back slowly, moaning as he penetrates your slit. With both hands on either side of the front seats shoulders in front of you, you begin gently rocking and bouncing.

He holds your belly, guiding you up and down, back and forth on his dick

"Fuck. Fuck, I love you, Joel. I cant wait—nnmmm—to have your baby!"

He grumbles in agreement, watching the space where his length disppears into your sopping cunt and comes back wet and shiny from your arousal.

It feels fantastic after waiting so long, being so pent up and needy for each other since—like 20 minutes ago.

And There's about 18 more seconds of this before you're slowing down. Joel can feel it too: the awkward clench, slipping out of you every few seconds, creaking in the truck's seat, the wet scratchiness of the sand still wedged there, your hand on your back from the pain, unable to bounce on him with the weight of you, the overall struggle that’s paving way for very shitty, very uncomfortable, very unsatisfying sex. You stop altogether and sit in his lap with his cock impaling you, almost casually.

"I'm tired,” you sigh in defeat, out of breath.

Joel just nods behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade and helps you off him.

Baby: 1.

You: 0

“Bed is still open, if ya want it…” you mumble into his whiskered cheek before planting a soft kiss.

His excitement jolts him into a frenzied leap out of the truck. “Bathroom, then bed, and I expect to see your legs spread and naked.”

You giggle and the two of you part in different directions in the house.

Joel quickly uses the bathroom before tripping over his clothes while stripping, eager to finally make you cry about how good he’s going to pleasure you.

Only to find you nestled on the couch curled up with your hand perched under your cheek, drooling into the pillow. Even despite your sunkissed skin, the dryness of your lips from the salty ocean air, the sand you complained between your folds and wedged up your ass by your bikini didn't matter. As the afternoon warm sun bleeds from the drapes lulled you to a gentle rest, secure and safe in your own home. 

Joel kneeled beside you, cupping your cheek soothingly.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You stir slightly, smiling with a hazy half conscious state. "I know," you respond cheekily, before nuzzling into his hand again and falling back asleep.

Joel stays there for hours, one hand resting over your belly, just watching the woman he's fallen so hard for, wondering what in the world he's done to deserve such a blessing.

- - - -

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@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

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[sp00kworm]

Black Oak (Part 2)

Pairing: Alcott Glyn (Headless Horseman) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Body Horror, Murder

PART 1 

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---

The police arrived about an hour after you had woke-up the whole village screaming. Peswick was far away from the nearest city’s response, and you sat shivering, wrapped in a blanket from the house, clutching it close as Mrs Shaw rushed to bring you a hot drink. She and her husband were dressed, but neither went into your house. They rushed back home, bringing you a cup of tea from their own kitchen along with a foil blanket for the shock. You weren’t allowed to touch the body, and you tried to ignore the swinging noise of the corpse as you sat perched on the front doorstep to your home, sniffling into the cup of tea. The police took off their hats as they stepped past your gate, and you watched as the crime scene investigation and forensic van pulled up behind them. The two officers nodded at Mr and Mrs Shaw before smiling as best they could.

“Would you like to come with us, please?” The male officer asked gently, “Lets go inside and we’ll get your statement of events, okay?” The female officer with him looked back at the tree and swallowed hard as Forensics suited up to remove the body and take evidence.

“Come on, Sully.” He ushered his companion as he helped you to your feet and nodded to your neighbours. He whistled and smiled as he opened the door for you, “Nice old place you’ve got here.” He complimented kindly, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with crows’ feet, “Mrs Finch used to live here. Are you a relative?”

 You shook as the officer led you gently into the front room, “It…She was my aunty, distantly.” You whispered as you eased yourself back onto the sofa, clutching the lukewarm tea tightly, as though it was a lifeline in your grasp.

“She was a kind woman. Made a lot of oils out of her garden, but she had nothing but trouble and vandalism with this place. Kids used to make a mess of the sides of the house regularly.” He tipped his head to the wall where the fireplace was, “It was always on the chimney. She never did anything, but the kids called her a witch and all that trollop.” He shook his head.

“You haven’t introduced yourself.” Sue gave him a lopsided smile as she pulled out the clipboards full of paperwork to be completed.

“Ah, so I haven’t!” The officer dipped his head, “I’m Officer Perks.” He pointed to the blond woman with him, “And this is my partner Officer Sullivan.”

You nodded shakily licked your lips, “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. I know...Its far.” A breathy sigh left you as Sullivan took out her pens from her vest and smiled.

“We just need an account of what you did this morning and if you knew the victim.” Percy offered as he sat on your couch, “Spare no details. Even something small to you might be important to us.”

 Conflict burned in your throat and gut as you thought about what had happened, “I don’t remember anything of relevance from last night. I spent the night in bed. I’ve only just moved in, so I was exhausted.” You took a shuddering breath and continued, “I went out this morning to the tree and…and I looked up… and he was hanging there, without his head.” You looked into the tea in your hands, noting that it was now ice cold.

“How long have you been here?” Sullivan asked as she shorthand filled in the details on the paperwork, “You said you moved in recently?” Perks looked from the paper to you and smiled reassuringly.

“I moved in yesterday afternoon.” You whispered and Sullivan gave you a pitying look.

Perks shifted against the cushions, “Did you have anyone with a grudge against you or motive from where you used to live?” He asked.

“No one that I know of.” You answered as you put down the cup of tea, fighting the tears and upset.

“Okay so what time did you find the body?” Perks asked. You took a deep sigh and continued to answer the police officer’s questions well into the afternoon.

 Perks and Sullivan could drink their weight in tea, it turned out, and you offered them many drinks over the course of the few hours. They had a couple each, pens scratching papers as they took notes and an official account of the events for the records. You looked out of the window as Sue and Percy signed the bottom of the page. Crime Scene Investigations were hoisting the body down from the thick black branch of the oak, working to preserve the noose he was swinging by. Three people held the corpse up as they cut the rope carefully, keeping the knot intact and bagging the rope before they got the body down into the bag on the stretcher.

“He’ll need to go to pathology to determine cause of death…though I think I have a pretty good idea.” Sullivan whispered, trying not to be heard as she eyed you sat across from them. Perks rolled his eyes and elbowed his colleague.

“Here. Let me draw the curtains.” Perks stood and reached for the curtains before drawing them over the forensics team dragging the body into the bag, impassive to the blood that stained their tunics and gloves.

“I think we have everything.” Sullivan announced as she stood up and took hold of both their mugs, “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.” She offered with a small, pathetic smile.

 Perks nodded his head as Sullivan as she left towards the kitchen. You heard her bang the cup on the countertop before you tugged the blanket closer and shifted uncomfortably.

“Thank you for your cooperation today.” Perks took his hat and tucked it under his arm, “I know these kinds of cases are very difficult to talk about. I have this card for you.” He held you out a green printed business card, “That’s the helpline for a couple of organisations and the other side has someone you can seek out if you would like some help talking through all this.”

You looked at the numbers vaguely before nodding and placing the card on the coffee table, “Thank you.” You replied quietly before Perks replaced his hat on his head.

“We’ll see ourselves out. Thank you once again and good afternoon.” He looked at his watch before he opened the lounge door and quietly exited.

Sue scoffed at him in the hall, “Come on. We’ve got these reports to write up.”

“Coming, coming.” Perks grumbled, “Nothing wrong with being nice. They just witnessed a damn corpse…” The voices trailed off as the front door closed behind the two of them with a bang.

 Silence.

 You looked to the curtains and stood up, letting the blankets finally fall from your shoulders as you fisted each side of the heavy curtains. They were old and embroidered with curling leaves. You tugged them open with a heave and watched the police vans trundle away back down the old stone roads, back towards the hills where they had come from this morning. With a deep breath, you tied the curtains back before taking one last long look at the gnarled, black oak in the garden, and heading towards the stairs for a shower and to get dressed. You hoped that a shower would wash away the sticky feeling of malaise on your skin and mind. Hot water usually purged bad thoughts, or so you hoped as you tried to erase the memory of the swinging corpse from the shrivelled branches of the old oak tree.

 You shivered through the house after your shower, wrapped in a jumper and heavy jeans as you tried to navigate the halls without looking out into the garden. The memory of the body lingered with the burning feeling of the heavy box in the other room, filled with an old skull. It was a skull inside. A perfectly preserved ivory skull. The teeth were yellow with age on the enamel, and you looked to the table where the muddy box sat with the key in the lock. The headless creature had moaned and groaned as its head screamed from the other room. You turned and looked at the ornate metal decorations before daring to turn the key again. The lid popped open and flew back to reveal the skull again.

 It sat perfectly still on the cushion, staring at you with empty eyes. With a deep breath, you dared to reach out and touch the skulls surface. It didn’t move. No magical energies tore out of the eye holes. It was perfectly still. It was just a skull. But the memory of it screaming and cursing inside the box was burned into your memory and you carefully picked the skull up, cushioning the bottom of its jaw before your strokes over the place where the eyebrows had once been when it was a man. It had to belong to the headless horseman, but why your aunt had it locked away in her home was another question entirely. You held the skull up to your eyes and peered into the bone of the eye sockets as you pondered your decision. There was a glimmer of gold inside the mouth which caught your eyes, and you dared to open the jaw wide enough to snatch at the shiny object. It was a single heavy golden coin which had been wedge between the back teeth. You looked at the old print and then quickly replaced it, wedging the jaw back shut as you placed the skull away on its pillow.

 It sat and stared at you, and you stared at it, wondering what happened last night as you clutched at your head and sighed. You slammed the lid closed and snapped the lock closed before you placed the box in the centre of the table.

“What the fuck were you up to aunty?” You asked the air as you rushed to the kitchen to make yourself another drink. As you set the water to boil you continued to curse, thinking about the headless man who what invaded your home chasing the poor man who had ended up hanging from the tree in your front yard. The head had screamed ‘witch’ from its confines, but you had no knowledge about what it could mean. You took the hot water and made a drink before looking at the last few boxes of unpacking and scoffing, deciding that the day would be better spent researching what had slaughtered the man and hung him from your tree.

 The village library was barely a few bookshelves put together and you sighed looking at the poor collection of books before you dated to approach the old librarian sat next to the desk. She had her own book open, some trashy romance novel set in the Victorian era, and she looked engrossed as she flipped the page and took another bite of her current tea cake.

“Hello?” You asked quietly in front of her.

The librarian jumped in her seat before she clutched at her chest and adjusted her glasses, “Dearie me! You scared the soul right out of me, love.” she took a moment to take a breath and close her book before she stood with a small wince and smiled, “What can I do for you?”

You could see the questions burning in her eyes. She no doubt knew you were the new person in town, and about what had happened at your home.

“I’m looking for some history books about the town. I wanted to try and get to know the place, but I don’t think there’s anything on the shelves.”

Her face pursed a little before she smiled again and pointed to the last one of the small walls of shelves, “There isn’t a lot but there’s a couple of books on the bottom shelf of the end one. For the records and such I’m afraid you will have to ask at the village hall. Rose keeps them in good nick there, lovely woman she is.”

“Ah, thank you.” You returned her smile and left her to her book as you went to the last set of shelves in the wall and started to rummage through the folklore and history books.

 There wasn’t a lot, she was right, and you sighed after about twenty minutes of pulling out books. You tugged the last, thick history book from the shelf and dusted the cover to reveal a history of the local mines and hills. It wasn’t what you were looking for. You peered at the shelf again and huffed before there was a glimmer of silver lining at the back of the bookcase. You squirmed your hand to the back and plucked the small book from behind the tattered paperbacks. It was a pocketbook, stencilled with an old name in cursive, faded and marred with cage.

‘Maria Theresa Glyn’

You dusted the front and followed the name before looking around and tucking the book into your bag. You felt bad just taking it, but obviously the Librarian had no idea it was there, and the name was familiar to you. You remembered the coat of arms on the old teapot. If this was the diary of someone with the same name it might have clues, or so you reasoned as you plucked a few books from the shelf and took them to the counter after replacing the rest.

 “Did you find what you were looking for, pet?” The librarian asked as you placed the books on the counter. She smiled and pulled out an old paper ticket to write your name onto. She poised the pen over the paper, and you told her your name before she copied it onto another for you and jotted the book codes down. She tutted at the date stamper and fiddled with it to get it to the correct date. Obviously not many people used the library.

“Yes, I found a few interesting things to have a flick through.” You told her as she stamped the tickets inside the books and stacked them in front of you.

“Well, you have fun...and be careful, huh? There’s a lot of weird and wonderful things that go on around here. It would be a shame if you forgot that, and something happened.” She smiled sweetly, but it sent shivers down your spine.

“Thanks. I’ll try.” You smiled awkwardly back at her before you took your arm full of books and made a quick exit back into the chilly air.

 The village seemed to watch you as you wove between the avenue of trees, crunching autumn orange and brown leaves underfoot. The chill in the air mimicked their icy feelings. You were the outsider among them, and soon enough they’d come to hound you out of their home. You only hoped to solve what you had seen. There was no way a headless man was riding around taking heads...right? You tried to console yourself as you made it to your home, and past the gnarled black tree in the front garden. It was twisted and old, and the branches seemed to creak as a greeting on your return. A glare silenced it, or so it seemed, perhaps it was just the wind dying, but the tree went silent as you walked up to the door with your keys in hand. The door swung open when you unlocked it and you clutched at your books as the wind howled into the mouth of the house, screaming down the hall like a ghost before you kicked the front door shut, shivering. The old back boiler chugged in the background as you kicked off your boots and placed the books in the lounge on the small table by the chest.

 When the chest remained still and silent you left to place away your bags and get a drink. You returned, rubbing your eyes as you opened the little journal you had found. It was penned with ink and quill, that much was obvious, and you ran your fingers over the woman’s name again before you touched the crest and went to find the teapot. You grabbed the porcelain handle and placed the two together over your lap. They were the same. The Glyn coat of arms. You placed the teapot down and opened the diary to look at the first passage. It was dated back three centuries ago, back when the alliance was beginning to form between the different races, monsters and humans alike, though you could tell this village hadn’t had such luxury. The entire populace was human, apart from the dairy farmers four miles outside the walls of the village. They were large goblins of some kind, cave dwelling and gangly limbed from years in the dark, but you had only seen them.

 The first passage was written in neat, printed cursive, echoing the care the woman had taken to write her feelings and events down.

‘Today is the day of my birth. My birthday rather. I was given this journal by the kind Mister Glynn, as a gift, and so I find myself beginning to write down the events of my daily life, so perhaps I can look back on it and reminisce when I am old and grey.

 Mister Glyn is a kind soul. He is part of the King’s Royal Entourage and the Commander of a large cavalry unit. Why he is in this small village is unknown to us all, but my father suspects it is because of the Wood Witch. Perhaps he has been tasked with taking her head? It is rumoured the armour he has is enchanted against such magic, but I feel as though those are rumours made about a dangerous and powerful man to excite fear.

 He is nothing but polite to me. I suppose my father will want to marry me off to this one as well.’

 The passages were perhaps a couple of pages maximum, and you flicked through the dates quickly, watching her words change from cold and indifferent to soft and loving of the man see always called Mister Glyn. It wasn’t until a year later in the diary that you saw his true name.

 ‘Alcott escorted me to the capital atop Mallor, his beast of a horse, though the creature seems to like me now that I bring him sugar lumps. Alcott wished to show me the city and its fruits though there is rather less fruit and more muck and grime. I am used to mud on my shoes, but I despised the odour of the place, much to his amusement. As I write, I can hear him snickering at me across the table.’

 There was a few blotches of ink and another set of handwriting.

 ‘She stood in a man’s excrement.’

 Their trip seemed peaceful, and Maria even attended a gathering at court. It seemed well until you found the final page in the diary, written across a page in shaky ink.

 ‘They took his head.’

 There was no fond farewell at the bottom of the page or a cursive signature. It was stark and naked on the yellowed paper, like a bad omen forever preserved. You ran your fingers over the words before you flicked through the last pages seeing nothing but blood splodges and blackened dark blood at the corners. It smelt faintly of rot, and you recoiled from the smell as you looked at the empty bare pages. The back of the book was burned across the inside of the cover. It was mysterious but it seemed like Alcott Glyn had been killed. But by who? You had no idea but as you looked at the chest again and thought of the head inside you shuddered.

 Alcott Glyn. There had to be a grave. You tugged your bag open and stuffed the book inside before you rushed out of the door, locking it quickly as you rushed towards the little church. It was at the top of the hill, sat in a mound of earth, subsiding on one side with props and scaffolding to try and hold it up. It wasn’t used anymore, the town hall was used to any religious needs, but it was haunting. The stained glass was dirty, and the front doors bolted and chained to prevent anyone entering. You rushed around the side of the church and looked at the dates on the graves and the dates in the diary. It had to be the 1700s. You thought back to your history lessons and tried to recall the date of the alliance war. 1774. You rushed around the small paths and glanced at the years, 1770, 1772, 1773... you looked at the gap where the 1774 stone should have stood. There was nothing, just unchurned earth and a set of roses growing from the floor. A troubling feeling settled in your gut as you meandered down the path to the back of the overgrown graveyard. There were old stones, crumbling and forgotten under blackberry vines and leaves. It was chance that you leaned down next to a short stone and looked at the faded name.

 Alcott Glyn.  

 The name was chipped and faded, like the memory of the man. Vines grew in wild abandon over the grave, and the blackberry vines had taken over the base, winding around the whole stone with wide dying leaves. It was perfectly hidden and forgotten about. The village’s little secret in the secluded corner of the graveyard, forgotten and buried. Or apparently, not buried completely. The earth was turned over, like something had ruptured from the ground and burst free. It was a long patch of upturned soil, as long as you were tall, or even longer, and the earth and stones were wet, fresh with the rain from the evening and being upturned, as though someone had run a plower through it.  Carefully, you ran your fingers through the earth, feeling the soil between your fingers before you took a steadying breath.

“Someone came out of this…” You breathed into the chilly air, your breath making mist with the cold as you stood and looked over the grave. You said it again before turning and bolting from the graveyard before the night could fall over the village.

 When you reached home, you threw your bag onto the couch and grabbed the chest, prising the lock open to peer at the skull inside. It was sat, still as a statue, on the cushion, with the glimmer of gold between its jaws. You lifted it from the cushion, carefully, pulling it up to your face level as the sun set over the horizon, bathing you in a golden glow with the skull clasped between your hands. There was nothing but the distant hum of the hot water pipes in the old house to answer your stare. The skull did nothing. It sat in your hands as the sunlight died over the horizon and the night began to settle in. In your gut, disappointment settled with the cold reminder that you were holding a dead man’s skull. A real human skull. Carefully, you placed it back down on the cushion and sighed as you went to draw the curtains, ignoring the creaking of the gnarled oak tree outside your door.

 The wind blew as you looked back at the head in the chest, positioned slightly skewed on the cushion. You chewed your lip and sighed before you stood over it again.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered to the skull. Nothing. The old electrics flickered for a moment, dimming before they brightened again. Silence, except for the hum of the back boiler. The breath you had been holding escaped and you turned away with a grumble before the lights surged bright and yellow, like the sun, before the bulbs exploded in a sudden thunder of noise. Glass shattered and flew across the carpet in a shower, and you gasped, covering your ears before you looked back at the cushion.

 The head was sat, jaw agape, with two lights in the blackened sockets, rolling side to side. The little lights rolled like stoned before they settled on you and the open jaw began to jitter, chattering the yellowed teeth together loudly. The skull didn’t move, just snapped it’s teeth like a scared dog before it stopped, and the eyes dimmed. It was only a moment of silence before there were three heavy pounds on your door. With a gasp you rushed to draw the curtains, and gazed upon the creature stood on your doorstep, his steed kicking and throwing it’s head by the twisted roots of the black tree. The body stood there, breathing, its undead chest moving as though it needed the air.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered again with a dry mouth. All the moisture dried up from you and you tried not to shake as the skull slammed against the side of the box, it’s eyes glowing.

It shook and chattered its teeth before a voice screamed from between the open jaw, “Let me in, witch!”

Fear twisted your guts as you rushed to slam the chest shut on the screaming skull. It chanted inside the decorative metal, hollering about burning you at the stake before you took it to the front door. The horseman slammed his fist on the door again, repeatedly, as though he was going to tear it open, and you shivered as your fingers shook by the latch and keys.

 The horseman began to bang repeatedly and the head in the chest slammed around, shaking your arms as you struggled to keep hold of it. You took a stuttering breath and unlatched the door, turning the keys before you wrenched it open. The headless horseman heaved puffs of misty breath up from the stump of his neck, his trachea flexing with the movement as the nerves of his spinal cord twitched and thrummed behind it, imitating life in his corpse body.

“Witch!” the skull screamed again, his head you realised as you stepped back, and the creature followed. His boots left muddy smeared marks on the wooden floors, and you looked down to see the crushed blackberries over the soles. Your heart pounded as you realised, he had crawled from the grave you had sat by earlier.

“I saw you by my grave. I will not do business with you again.” His voice came from his body this time, contorted and dark as it leaked from his lungs like a wisp.

“Business? What business have you?” You asked, voice shaking with fear.

The skull laughed in its box, a malicious and evil noise, dark and tempting, as though you were truly stupid for asking, “What business did we not have? Have you forgotten in your age, crone? Death and blood, that’s what you wanted, and I delivered it.”

“Who did you have the deal with?” You steeled yourself.

“You, you pathetic soothsayer.” He droned before his dead fist slammed the door closed, “Now give me my head. Our bargain is met.”

“I am not my aunty.” You tried, “I have no deal with you.”

 The horseman stopped, his body stiffening as his horse brayed and screamed outside, kicking its hooves at the black oak with a great smash. The tree shook, shedding twigs, but didn’t fall. He stalked closer, the bulk of his frame blocking out the light from the moon and the electric fitting overhead.

“But you have my head.” The skull whispered from inside the box before he grabbed for the chest. He touched the metal of the latch and screamed, the noise escaping the corpse before you and the skull inside the box. It was an ear piercing, unholy noise which burned your ears and made your head swim in agony. The horseman clutched at his chest and the stump of his neck, his gloved fingers pressing into the gored wound of his neck as he wobbled towards the wall and grasped at it for balance.

 “Fuck.” You cursed before you whipped the chest open and grabbed his skull by its eye sockets, hanging it over him as he slid down the wall and screamed again in agony, twitching against the wood.

“If I give you your head, horseman, will you indebt yourself to me? Your previous contract will be null, and you will only serve me.” You announced.

The horseman writhed before going deathly still. He laid like a corpse for a moment or two before shakily he braced his arm against the floor and pushed himself up. With a shudder he got onto his knees and kneeled before you, his neck dipped to expose the sore, congealed wound of his decapitation.

“I... I will serve.” The horseman gurgled.

“Then I give you your head to end your torment, Alcott Glyn.” You promised before you held his skull between your palms and lowered it to the spinal column of his body.

 There was a great groan as the spine extended from Alcott’s body and snapped to the skull, holding it in place as the eyes burned bright with purple light, the colour of blackberries, rolling in his skull as he reached and clasped at the bone, howling as light burned from the base of his neck and enveloped his skull with a whoosh of purple fire. The fire abated quickly as the moonlight disappeared behind the curtains and the skull shimmered as muscle and tendons swarmed the bone, linking and covering the surface before the he howled, and skin crept from his neck to his face, covering the surface in a perfect alabaster coating. His eyes however, remained voids of black, the centres beautiful blackberry lights in the dimness of your home. Black waves of hair grew from his head, dripping over his shoulders like ink as he howled, leaned against the old wallpaper. They finished growing with a crackle of fire, purple flames licking at the ends before it disappeared, leaving a heaving, black eyed creature curled against the wooden floor.

 Your mouth hung open as you watched the horseman shake against the wood, heaving as he reached to clutch at the hair that draped from his previously naked skull. The inky waves slid through his gloved hands and was quickly marred with dirt and blood before he peered at you through the curtain, looking at you with the purple lights in his irises which were sunken back into his skull. His lips parted before he took a deep breath, wheezing out dust and muck, coughing like a goose before he kicked the chapped skin and crawled closer to your feet. He only looked at you, staring before one gloved hand whipped out and snatched your ankle, holding it tightly in an iron grip.

“Bound to your bloodline again...” he growled, “Humiliating.” Before he pushed himself back and stood, swaying on his legs like a new-born deer as his balance came back to him. Having a head was a heavy burden.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” You breathed as Alcott slammed the side of his head and beat dirt out of his ears.

“Of course, you don’t. None of you ever do. Now I’m bound here to you until the day you drop dead and rot. Why can you never let me die?” He growled in a worked-up fury, flinging his hands to the windows before he stalked to the door, his boots slamming against the wood. He swung it open, and his mount brayed in greeting, throwing its giant head back before it caught sight of you and snorted, bowing it’s neck like a graceful Swan.

 “You are all the same!” The horseman shouted before the moon was revealed, a cloud moving away from its white surface. He shuddered and you watched the skin on his face disappear with the muscle, revealing the purple lights in a bare, burning skull. As the cloud recovered the moon, the base of his neck flared with purple smoke and fire, revealing the scar where he was decapitated, and his face reappeared.

“I gave you your head back, Alcott!” You shouted after him.

The horseman shivered and turned back to you, looking at you with his haunting eyes, both hands gripping the pommel and stand of the saddle, “How do you know my name?” He whispered in questioning.

With a small breath, you locked your lips nervously and ducked back to the table, grabbing the little diary from you bag before you stood on your porch and held it out to the wraith, “Maria wrote about you.”

He growled and snatched at the book, and you let him take it with a painful smile, “I know the townspeople killed you. They betrayed you. I don’t know what happened to Maria.” You confessed.

Alcott opened the diary and flicked through it before he looked at the night sky, “She lived in mourning the rest of her life. They institutionalised her after they found her carrying my head, wailing through the town. She died, high on cocktails of medicines, with her head buried in the soft soil of a flower bed.”

 The revelation was something of a shock and you looked at the undead man in front of you with a bitter, pitying look.

“You watched her die, didn’t you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

The horseman scoffed, “That was the curse after all. To terrorise the town for their betrayal. But not her. I used to try call to her from the window, but she never could bare to look at me. Eventually they gave her more cocktails and she stopped coming to the window all together.”

“Jesus Christ.” You cursed.

“Such foul language.” Alcott sneered as he snapped the diary shut in his gloved hand, “She died from the madness and grief. That is the fault of the town and its yet another reason to run into each of these homes and tear their heads from their bodies.” Alcott spat furiously. As fury overtook him you could see the white scarred seem of where his head had been replaced burning with smoke the purple fumes puffing from it like a new wound before his neck popped and cracked, sending his head to the left, hanging on by a thread of flesh to the other side. You let out a screech and clasped your mouth as the horseman gurgled and reached for his head, grasping it by the hair before he groaned and dragged it back into place, snapping the vertebrae back into place with a twist and a squelch of bloodied tissue. It cracked again quickly, and Alcott held the top of his hair tightly with a groan as the smoke poured from his mouth and his head twisted backwards like a ghoul, spinning on his neck before it snapped again and came free, rolling over the floor to your feet as a skull. The flesh and hair melted in waves of muck from its surface, and you shakily took hold of the skull again.

 The horseman stumbled left and right as he reached towards you for his head.

“MY HEAD, WITCH!” He howled at you, but you dashed back up the porch steps and held it protectively.

“You are under my command. Anything against my wishes is against our contract...so you lose your head. Do you hear me horseman?” You blagged, hoping you were right, “So there will be no killing.”

“Evil, corrupt creature. I'll hang you by your feet and bleed you from the neck!” Alcott threatened as fire and smoke poured from his throbbing trachea. The smoke puffed before he went sent to the floor in agony, the black oak behind him creaking and swaying left and right as though the roots were snaking towards him. Sure enough, the ground rumbled, and the black oak’s roots exploded from the ground, snagging the horseman by his wrists and ankles hoisting him into the air as the branches hissed and his mount, Mallor, brayed and screamed, blood spraying over the fence from the horses broken throat.

 It was a curse. You should have expected as much, but you shook as the tree cinched the man’s limbs, holding them tight before it pulled, making him scream in agony as his joints were pulled tight.

“Stop!” You screamed, and the tree stopped pulling, holding the horseman aloft still as it swayed and bent towards you, its branches touching your head as though trying to figure out who you were.

“He is mine.” You told the tree, “He will obey and submit to the laws of his contract.”

The tree groaned, it’s roots wiggling in the cold, hard earth for a moment before it dropped Alcott like a sack of grain and settled down quietly, smacking at the horse inching closer to its trunk.

Alcott touched at his neck as he rose, swaying as he cracked and snapped his joints back into place like a disjointed puppet.

“Are you going to play nice now?” You asked as the man wheezed in front of you. When he nodded you offered him his skull back and watched the skin and flesh cover its surface again before he snarled behind his curtain of overgrown hair, blackberry-coloured lights burning the void of his eyes.

“You truly are her kin if that disgusting thing listens to you.” He snapped as he headed for his horse and mounted the saddle with a quick bounce on one powerful leg, his thighs locking tight around the beast’s sides as it bucked and brayed. Alcott turned his horse and tipped his head with a wave of purple smoke and fire, “Call on me then, witch, and see what havoc I can wreak for you.” Alcott laughed bitterly as he turned Mallor onto the cobbled drive and rode onto the road, his face becoming bone and flesh intermittently as the clouds passed overhead.

“I’m not a witch!” You screamed after the horseman, but he was gone into the mist and the trees, unlikely to have heard you cursing against the stairs of the porch as you collapsed.

#headless horseman x reader #alcott glyn x reader #headless horseman x gender neutral reader #headless horseman #alcott glyn #dullahan x reader #dullahan #dullahan x gender neutral reader #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster boy #monster bf #monster boyfriend x reader #monster reader inserts #reader inserts #my writing #original works

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 2

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ Oral M receiving, daddy kink, someone walks in

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Two

The light streaming in through the window woke you up. You curled up in the soft silk sheets, listening to Hannibal’s hums coming from the bathroom. Deciding there wasn’t much more to do than doze, you did just that, taking your time to enjoy your Monday morning. His bed was much softer than the hand me down one you kept at home. You really could lay here forever.

It wasn’t until the bed dipped that you opened your eyes. He was all ready dressed and groomed to the nines. The navy sweater and grey trousers seemed as homey as the man allowed himself to be.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted.

“Good morning, darling.” Hannibal cupped your face gently, smiling when you leaned into his touch. “It’s marvelous to see you so relaxed, it’s not a sight I get to see often. You’re divine.”

“Devine,” you scoffed in disbelief, “I haven’t had a glimpse of it yet, but I’m sure I look nothing less than a wreck.”

Hannibal’s thumb stroked your jaw, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “When it’s my fault you look so utterly debauched, I can’t lie and say my pride doesn’t play a factor.”

“There it is,” you couldn’t help rolling your eyes as you dropped a kiss to his hand, “Always taking pride in everything you do. However, much to your dismay, I’m going to have to destroy your masterpiece. A shower does sound perfect right now.”

“Of course, I took the liberty of running a bath for you.”

“Sweet man,” you smiled fondly at him.

Bringing you closer he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. As always, he left you wanting more. This time though, you didn’t chase after him. The night of fun was done. All that was left was the goodbye to wrap up the event completely. Some part of you wanted to push that time back.

You hummed lightly, “You enjoy making it hard to not miss you.”

“All the sweeter when we reunite.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

He tapped your cheek playfully, “Take your bath. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”

Getting out of bed, you stretched. Hannibal’s fingertips ghosted along your spine. “From the looks of it, you’d be happier to help.”

“Simply admiring… You truly are a thing of beauty.” he squeezed your hip before taking his hands away, “I’ll leave some of my things for you to wear on the bed.”

Walking into the bathroom, you were taken by the soft scent of nearly familiar perfumes you’d wear, his cologne lingered ever so slightly. A perfect mix of the two. Looking in the mirror, you surveyed the wreckage. Runny mascara, smudged over lipstick, and rather large hickies scattered across your body did make you look like the definition of debauched. The neck didn’t have as much damage, but covering the few there would still be a pain. So much for keeping things hidden from others. Grabbing the pack of makeup wipes on the counter, you started cleaning up knowing you’d find it to be too much of a chore after the bath.

It was welcoming when you finally got into the still warm bath. Hot water made you relax further as your body let go of the last bit of tension it held. The products seemed to match the ones you usually used, if not make yours seem like cheap dupes. Your lip quirked at that realization, the gentleman seemed to have had ulterior motives after all.

You took your time washing up, deciding time to relax was sparse so you may as well take advantage of the small time frame you did have. A soft knock at the door pulled you back to the present. “Afraid I drowned?” You asked teasingly as the door opened.

Hannibal offered a quiet chuckle as he walked over and perched on the side of the tub, “Asleep more like.”

You didn’t bother hiding yourself. He’d probably be able to draw you from memory by now if you were being honest. “I do have a question.”

“What is it, darling?”

You gestured to the soaps, “Did you have any plans in particular for our night?”

“Not exactly. The night ended perfectly- you wouldn’t mind me saying-” Hannibal tapped your chin affectionately when you smiled, “but there wasn’t anything other than pure intentions when I purchased them. The scent reminded me of you and I thought if you drank too much or there was a storm, those kinds of things, it would be good to have something for you to use. Sending you out into possible dangers was never something left to chance. You’d be safer with me.”

“Ever the good host,” you said, taking his word for it, “Thank you for thinking of me, Hannibal.”

“Always.” Hannibal rolled up his sleeves, moving to sit behind you. “Lean back for me.”

You turned to look at him questioningly, “What are you doing?”

“I find it very important to take care of my partners just as much after. You didn’t give me much of a chance last night. While I’m here, I may as well make myself useful.”

Allowing him to turn you forward again before he grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. You sighed heavily as he massaged the shampoo in, his fingers working magic. “You took care of me,” you argued, “Asked me what I wanted and gave it to me. I didn’t want anything else.”

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you,” he stated, running some water through your hair, “I like to make sure nothing was too much or that you’re not telling me if it was.”

“I’m as good as I’ve been in a long time. Really. If I hadn’t wanted something to happen I would have stopped you. Though, if I had known things would have ended like this I would have stopped by when we had more time. Testing before winter break would have been all that much easier.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t be of service earlier,” he mused. “A difficult time that must have been for my sweet girl. Poor thing.”

The urge to sink into the water was strong as you felt the smallest bit of pride at the endearment paired with an equally small bout of jealousy that you shared it with his other partners. It was snuffed out quickly. Perhaps you’d entertain this for a while, but it wouldn’t last. He liked a life that was above and usually too stiff compared to your own. The pair of you weren’t meant to work long term and that was fine. A simple passing thing between friends was the most this would be.

-

Things went back to business as usual after that night. There weren't any intense feelings or need for Hannibal. There wouldn’t be any time to entertain the idea even if they had popped up. Not with this insane work piled on top of you and the final test you needed to study up on. The most you had seen him was in passing or when he’d drop off a meal every so often. Though you wouldn’t lie and say your mind hadn’t found itself wandering every so often.

There was nothing you could do about that, so instead you took shifts, grading work then studying. Rinse and repeating the cycle as long as you could handle it. Your head was pounding before you knew it, but all of this needed to be done. A little bit longer, you reminded yourself as you took a couple headache pills.

The buzzing of your phone vibrating on the desk startled you. “Hi, dad,” you sighed, stuck with this particular pain.

“Hey, pretty girl, how have you been?”

Pretty girl, you scoffed inwardly. You had to give him credit- at least he was pretending to be interested this time. That was rare. “Nothing much. Work. School. The usual. It’s been heavy lately.”

“Yeah, of course, things get like that. So listen, your mom and I are running real low late-“

“I already told you I wasn’t any good for money. I’m barely making ends meet as it is… I already sent you the last $600 I could,” you rested your head in your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what the fuck do we send you to that school for,” he shouted, “It’s a waste of time. You’re not gonna make anything of yourself. All you do is waste fucking time. Everything we do for you and you just take it all for granted. What type of selfish bitch of a kid doesn’t try to help out her parents?”

“Yeah, dad, I take everything for granted. Putting myself through school should have been a breeze. Juggling school and two jobs? Simple fucking shit right? You should know, right? Wait… you couldn’t even raise your kid could you?” You snapped the stress getting to you. “Why the hell do you always do this to me?”

No response. He hung up. The truth of the matter seemingly too much for him. No. That was too much credit. He knew you wouldn’t send him anything. Try again some other time. Sighing you set the phone down. Your throat felt like it was closing and your head was pounding. A couple tears fell, soon followed by a quiet sob. You didn’t want anyone to see, but the stress was getting to you. Try as you might, you weren’t made of stone.

You hadn’t noticed when Hannibal had walked in for a usual evening check up. “Darling girl,” his accented voice was laced with worry as he walked toward you, “What’s wrong?” Hannibal crouched near your chair as he wiped away your tears.

“Everything went to my head. It’s nothing. I’m okay,” you swallowed thickly, as you attempted to stop the crying and sniffling, not meeting his eye just yet.

Hannibal grabbed your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “Nothing more?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, giving him a slight smile, “Just school and a headache. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it.”

He looked you over, not believing you but unwilling in prodding you further. “It seems a break is in order.”

“I can’t, Hannibal,” You gestured to the papers and books around the desk, “The sooner I’m done with all this the better. I just want to go home.”

Hannibal started to pick up your things, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer this time. “We’ll go to my office, you’ll eat, I’ll grade the work and ask you questions. Follow me.” Before you can get a word in, he turned heel, leaving you to quickly scramble behind him.

The office had the same comforting feel his home did. Though you weren’t sure many besides you felt comfort in his presence. Hannibal Lecter was by all means an intimidating man, even when you did feel like you were close to him. Closer now, you corrected thinking about the fading bruises under your shirt and the sweater he had let you borrow that you had yet to return. Still there was something about his presence that invoked a feeling of calm in you, even with that spike of something questionable. He seemed to always have all the answers and knew exactly what to do with any situation.

“Here,” Hannibal placed a Tupperware and drink on your side of the desk, “You really shouldn’t be spreading yourself so thin, love. It isn’t good for such a delicate thing.”

“I’m hardly delicate.” You grabbed the food giving him a grateful smile. “I’ve got it all handled. It’s just finals and everything stacked up. The future. I stumbled a bit, is all.”

Hannibal sat on his side and started shuffling through your papers. “Nonetheless, I wish you didn’t strain yourself so much.”

“Not all our days can be a nice weekend together,” you pecked at the salad, as much as you wanted to grab some papers off the stack you knew he would never allow it, “Life is still as frustrating as ever.”

“What did they say?” Hannibal asked, nipping the problem at the bud. If you wouldn’t start the conversation he would.

You sighed, “Something along the lines of ‘waste of time’ and ‘selfish bitch’ really wasn't the worst thing he's ever said. I was just already at my endpoint. I’m pretty sure if I dropped my pen I would have had a similar reaction.”

“Being at your end doesn’t justify mistreatment.”

“I know,” you shrugged, “but I don’t have it in me to argue anymore. Deaf ears and all that. What’s the point?”

“The point is making it known that you won’t tolerate that behavior.”

“I’m just tired and disappointed. A part of me is considering just going into the world on my own. The only family that really cares has passed on, what’s the point of hoping my parents would ever consider changing.” You coughed lightly, clearing your throat. This was too much of a therapy session for your taste. “I’ve already made it up in my head that I’m going to wait a year before getting back in school. You know, save any penny I can. These past four years even with aid and scholarship money has been hell. I’m going to be 24 and there’s still just so much to do.”

“I can’t say I envy you,” Hannibal shook his head, “The uncertainty in those years is unmatched.”

“It’s hard to imagine you uncertain of anything. You seem to always know exactly what to do.”

Hannibal scoffed lightly, “Only because time has granted me certain wisdoms. When I was younger I was lucky enough to appeal to someone with my artistic talent and stories of my past. Though I’d like to think it was the former that earned me my scholarship. I may not have had the exact struggles you did, but we’ve all been through situations we needed to push past. It comes in time. Once you get there, you’ll go through life with grace.”

“Well, I don’t have any reservations about using my past. Would you be my mentor?” You joked, for the most part.

“A five year forward request,” he mused, “Are you certain you’d enjoy me that much as a mentor?”

“Someone is gonna have to teach me the ropes,” you shrugged, “We’re more than comfortable with each other and I already know how pleasurable time with you can be, why not learn a couple of things from your infinite wisdom?”

His lip quirked, “Glad to know your thoughts are nothing less than wholesome.”

“Only the purest.”

You ate your dinner as he asked questions. It was a bit unfair, probably, you knew he had helped form the test. Then again, you knew your boss and it was more than likely all of Hannibal’s work. So this little run was sure to be a preview of what to expect. Still, the questions he asked were far from simple, despite how much you studied. Sometimes a raised brow would tell you, you needed to think again. Other times you’d get a soft praise thrown your way that would immediately make you think of when he was against you.

“A few more for me, darling girl. You’re doing so well.”

Your face heated up as you remembered the exact moment he said something nearly identical.

Hannibal looked at you over a paper, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re looking a bit distracted, are you alright?”

“You know what you did, jerk.”

“Do I?” He laughed.

You shook your head, “You’re unbelievable.”

Hannibal continued grading, rattling off questions off the top of his head. You mind however, wandered. Answering his questions absentmindedly, more preoccupied with memories than the matter at hand. The way his hands felt. His breath against your chest as he chased his high. The gentleness the morning after as he helped you into his clothes, giving you a last kiss before breakfast. A lingering regret at not getting to thank him back properly. He would be the perfect distraction now that you thought of it.

“I won’t help you if you prefer to daydream.”

“I wouldn’t be daydreaming if you didn’t decide to help me in the first place.”

“Touché.”

“Think I’m all done studying. I’m tired of it,” you sighed, stretching, “I want to do something else.”

Hannibal looked at you, brow raised. “What’s that sweet girl?”

You shook off some nerves. As much as the two of you had already done, he was still an intimidating man. His eyes followed as you stood and walked around the desk. Hannibal brought your hand up to his lips. You trailed it along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that just started coming in, buying yourself some time to steady yourself. A raised brow questioned what you’d do next, but otherwise he leaned into your touch.

“I wanted to thank you for everything. For how good you are to me.”

“I don’t expect anything in return,” he assured.

“Yeah, I know,” you sunk to your knees in front of him, tracing your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly, looking up at him, “but I want to take care of you too.”

He toyed with a strand of your hair, looking almost bored as he leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t necessary, little one, I enjoyed watching you.” Still there was a glint of something in his eye that told you he was interested, merely teasing with the show he just wanted something more from you.

You bit your lip, pondering at what he had deemed missing. The title. A thing that had slipped past your lips embarrassingly but one he had used with stupor throughout the night. Hands settling on his knees, you pushed them apart so you could settle there more comfortably. A pout, “Please, daddy, I’ve wanted to since we met.”

“Always an eager plaything,” he sighed checking the clock on the wall, “I suppose daddy can make some time for his girl.”

That was enough for you to start undoing his belt. Despite the bored act, his half hard cock betrayed him and told you exactly how much he had been interested. You palmed him through his boxers, he didn’t give you the pleasure of hearing anything from him, but that’s alright you didn’t mind earning it. Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you pulled him out of the boxers. Leaning back on your knees you took it in, unsure if you could fit the length of it in completely.

Hannibal took in your hesitation. Using a finger he tilted your head up to look at him in the eye. “We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t okay with it now. A change of mind is more than alright.”

“No. It’s not that I want to,” you licked your lips, as if to prove how okay you were you wrapped your hand around him, thumb tracing a prominent vein, “I was just wondering if it would fit all the way in.”

He let out an amused huff, shaking his head, “I’m sure you’ll try your best, ridiculous girl.”

Leaning in you pressed a kiss to the head. Just a little more time to work up the courage. You kissed along the shaft, mapping out every vein. Your tongue traced its way back up, catching a taste of precome that had beaded on the head. An encouraging hand threaded itself in your hair, never pushing for more than you were willing to give.

A knock at the door, interrupts the scene.

“A moment,” Hannibal calls out to the person. “Get under the desk,” he said as he started to hide away any evidence that he was with anyone. Your appearance wasn’t completely ruined, not to his taste at least, but the messed up lipstick and slightly ruined hair wouldn’t take much mental work for someone to come to the correct conclusion.

Taking his instruction you got under the desk as he fixed his own appearance, suit jacket over his arm to hide himself. Walking over to the door, “Mr. Henderson,” he greeted, pleasantly, “Please, come in.”

“Hannibal, sorry about stopping by so late,” you heard the door close as the two walked over.

“Nonsense. If anything, the company is welcomed.” Hannibal took his seat, pulling his chair in close, to make sure you were hidden away.

“I was actually going to see if I could convince you to stay.”

Mischief sparked as you grew bored with their droning conversation. Thankfully he had decided to get rid of his belt fully. It didn’t take much to free him again. He spread his legs, attempting to give you the most space possible under the cramped desk. You pumped him in your hand, getting him back to how you had him. The other hand tugged softly at his balls. You wouldn’t be able to put him in your mouth properly with this angle. Instead you satisfied yourself with sucking on the sides of his cock.

“The students adore you,” the other man countered whatever Hannibal had said, “Honestly your classes are killing Jacob’s with every exam.”

“I take great pride in my students. They are an extension of myself. How well they do is a direct reflection of my skill as a teacher,” he sighed, “I have a couple of people in mind that could fill my roll, I’ll ask people to see who’s interested.”

“Still Jacob’s is slacking too much, I may take away his student aid privileges. I see her around here more often than I ever see him.”

You gave a particularly hard suck to a seemingly sensitive spot as his hips had stuttered ever so slightly. No evidence of any misconduct came from his voice as he said, “Oh her? She is a very good girl. Motivated. Never complains about a thing.”

You felt Hannibal throb against your mouth. Taking a break you leaned your head on Hannibal’s thigh, as fun as it would to mess with him more, you knew he took great pride in his social image. Besides, you had wanted Hannibal’s full attention anyway. His hand came down to your hair, subtly showing that he was still paying attention to you to the best of his abilities.

They talked a while longer, before Henderson finally left. Hannibal had pulled out a stack of papers, motioning like he was going to work on grading, and politely asked him to lock the door as he left. When it was clear he pushed his chair away from the desk. You made your way out smiling at him.

“Someone seems very happy with themselves.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“But did you ask permission?” Hannibal asked as worked himself lazily.

You faltered slightly under his gaze, “Well...no.”

“And do you think you deserve any type of reward for that stunt?”

“...I hope so.”

“I’ll forgive it,” he decided, “only because you’re so eager and we never set ground rules. But now it’s on my terms.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded obediently, not wanting to receive one of Hannibal's punishments just yet.

Hannibal used your hair to pull you closer. You stumbled on your knees catching yourself on his thighs. “Since you were so unsure if you could fit in daddy earlier, after that little stunt, I’m sure you’re feeling better now. Aren’t you?”

The hand in your hair pushed you down. You closed your mouth around the tip. Hannibal groaned quietly, letting you work your way down. Bobbing your head you took more of him deeper every time, but those last two inches were proving difficult. Gripping your hair, he pulled you off of him.

His breath was coming in quick pants, brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you need help, darling?”

“I can’t fit it daddy.” It came out in a breathless whine.

“Yes, you can. Be a good little mouth and let me do the work.”

Again he pushed you onto his cock. This time he took control. His hand kept you in place as he thrusted his hips up. Without the hesitation you had, he fit himself in quickly. Grinding into your mouth he let you choke around it for a while before pulling you up for air.

“See?” He choked out as he used you again, “Fucking perfect mouth… Daddy’s good girl… taking care of me like she asked.”

His grunted praises and moans were enough to excuse the tear prickling your eyes. Over and over he used your mouth to it’s extent. Seeming to enjoy it most when you did choke on him. Hannibal stopped before he came. Pulling you up off the floor and onto his lap. Wiping away the stray tears that had fallen.

“You’re too good for me.” He kissed your cheek.

“You haven’t finished.” You caught your breath as you curled into his chest. His cologne comforted you. The increasingly familiar scent carved a special place in you.

“I’ll finish later,” he promised, dropping another kiss onto your head, “At the moment, I want to make sure you’re alright. I got carried away.”

“I’m not porcelain, Hannibal,” you intertwined your fingers with his, “I like it when you’re in charge… It gives me a chance to not think of anything.”

“Even so these situations require a lot of trust from your partner.”

You shrugged, as you decided to be honest, “At the moment you seem to be the only person I trust. Besides, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“I can’t see you ever doing that.”

That night Hannibal had taken you home. You received the same treatment you had received the first night you stayed at his house. Mostly you thought it was an apology of some sort for treating you roughly in his office. By some good grace both of you had classes later in the day, allowing you to enjoy the softer side of Hannibal in the morning again.

A new sweater of his joined the one that resides on your futon. You hadn’t thought twice about packing them away when you emptied your apartment out.

-

Life in New York was eventful to say the least. Different but fun. It had been six months since you had graduated. Your friend from high school shared an even shabbier apartment together. You made a couple friends. Picked up jobs at a bar and a bookstore.

“You’re not any fun,” Alex complained as she adjusted her makeup, “You never want to go out with me.”

“I’m tired,” you complained. “Anyway, why would I want to go to a bar when I work at one?”

“To wreak hell on someone that’s stuck in your usual gig.”

“Have fun with the guys.”

She attempted to pull you off the couch a couple more times to no avail. In truth you were happy to have a moment of peace. All honesty she was the driving force in you actually living your life and not just working the entire time. You really did love her for all of that and the experiences you had. However there were times for breaks to be had from everything. And tonight was one of them.

You showered, got dressed in a sweater and shorts, heated up some leftovers. Throwing on a bad 80’s horror flick, you spent your night in splendor. A break was rare and you were gonna use your relaxation time to its extent. Sleep overtook you sometime in the night, only to be woken up by the annoying shrill sound of your phone.

“Al, baby, I love you so damn much, but if you’re gonna bitch at me about not going out tonight. I just might be tempted to murder you,” you muttered sleepily, “I could get away with it.”

“Sweet girl, is that any way to speak to your friends?” A voice you hadn’t heard in a while asked, disappointment clear in his tone.

“Hannibal,” you said lamely, slightly ashamed that that was the first thing he heard from you in months. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s… It’s been a while.”

“It has been,” he agreed, “In fact, I called to ask if you would like to come to a dinner party.”

You looked at the clock, noting just how late it had been. “You called at two in the morning to ask me to a dinner party?”

“I’ve been busy and you didn’t leave an address for an invitation. It was… spur of the moment.”

“I missed you too,” you sighed, deciding to be the one to voice it, “Yeah, I’d love to go over.”

“Are you planning on staying with me?”

You sighed dramatically, “Suppose I can give a lonely old man some company. What, you couldn’t find anyone as entertaining as me in Baltimore?”

“I’ve got specific tastes.”

“Is that right?”

Alex walked in, the last part of the conversation hitting her ears and the alcohol in her system making her louder. “Is that the daddy? Does he know he’s ruined men for you? Ugh, can you get him over here to loosen you up? I’d appreciate it that so much.”

“I never said ruined, I just sa-“ you realized Hannibal was still on the phone, “Just please, go take a shower, I’ll make you anything you want to eat if you promise to stay quiet.”

Surprisingly she complied, only saying egg sandwich with cheese and bacon in response.

“Ruined?”

“Couldn’t let that skate by?”

“You’re the one talking about me.”

You coughed. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve got specific taste too. Just something happened with someone and I don’t know, I couldn’t get into it that same way. Like with you. They needed me to tell them exactly how… It was just awkward. It wasn’t satisfying. They were nice though.”

“You compare my experience to their experience inexperience,” he deduced. “You enjoy knowing I’ve got everything under control.”

You tried to shake away the blush. “So it seems we’re stuck in similar positions.”

“We are.”

“Hannibal,” you heard someone call out, “When were you thinking of joining us? We didn’t bother you so much you had to leave us that long.”

He asked him for a moment.

“Seems like someone wants your attention,” you commented.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. Just friends having fun right? It would be hypocritical considering I just told you of my night with someone else. As long as it’s nothing serious with whoever that was, we’re fine.”

“They’re nothing. Someone’s too loud nephew. In fact I think he’s rather rude. You know I can’t stand people like that.”

“You’ll survive. Get home safe.”

“I’ll send you the directions in a moment. Have a goodnight little one.”

“‘Night daddy,” the long unused term of endearment fell from your lips easily.

“‘Night daddy,” Alex sighed dreamily from the bathroom door, “God, is the dick really that good? How could it be?”

You hung up the phone. “Can you please not do that next time? He’s really particular about things.”

She raised her hands up in defense. “Whoa, there. He can handle a little joke at his expense when he’s already been down your throat. Now where’s my sandwich?”

“I’m serious Al.” You sighed when you got up from the couch to get to work on your promise. “He makes me feel like I need to be all proper.”

“You’re fine, doll. A dime if I’ve ever seen one. I’m not gonna ruin this for you, if he randomly decided to call you this late,” she took a seat on the counter, taking the water you handed her gratefully, “Do you want that to be a long term thing?”

“Nah,” you threw the bread into the toaster, “I couldn’t live his life. Sure, I like him and I do think he’s fun to hang around. But it just feels like something that will simmer down eventually. We’ll probably meet up a couple more times and it’ll be done. It’s not like we do anything more than end up in bed and sweet talk.”

“I’m telling you, we’d be set if you asked him to be your sugar daddy. Please ask him to take care of you and be his call girl.”

“How about you?” You asked, changing the topic, “Any pretty girls?”

“This one chick at work,” she shook her head, “Fucking goddess of a woman, LN, I’m telling you. I got it bad. She’s got me waiting for her with her coffee orders in the morning like some kind of obedient little puppy.”

“You know her coffee order.”

“Exactly!”

“How’s the commitment issues?”

“I’m gonna have to fucking work through them. Unlike someone, I think I wanna try out the long term thing.”

“Hey!” You cracked the eggs into the oil, “I’m just not up for it right now.”

“Work him out of your system. We’re supposed to be having fun this year.”

You sighed, “I’m trying.”

“I’m telling you we find you a decent lay. You won’t need to be fucking around with that guy.” Your phone chimed. Alex grabbed it off the counter. “The devil works fast doesn’t he? Address and day of the party. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Says he’ll buy you a cute little number.”

“No, tell him I got it.”

“Thank you, daddy. I’ll make it worth your wild. Wink. Send.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I still think he’s ugly,” she shrugged, tossing your phone over, “May as well get a cute dress out of sleeping with him.”

“He’s not ugly. I’ve seen the people you’ve brought home,” You scoffed, handing over the plate.

“Reggie is a fun time! Fuck I miss Reggie.”

“Work chick,” you reminded her.

“Right right.” She argued before taking a bite of the sandwich. “Fine, we’ve both had our questionable older partner moments. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not.”

“Still never called her mommy and that’s a win in my books.”

“I should have never told you that,” you laughed, “I fucking hate you man.”

She pinched your cheek affectionately, “You had your chance to get rid of me. The return policy ran out. You’re stuck. Congratulations.”

“How long until you expire?”

Alex pretended to count it through. “We’re looking at at least 50 years more, if we’re lucky.”

You hummed, “Are you accounting for possible sickness or accidents?”

“I’m immortal for 50 years in between. No arguments at this time please.”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @charc0al-grey

#hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #Reader #smut

[drazzilder]

A Hellish Encounter

By Drazzilder

Chapter 12: Love

This chapter is rated 18+/NSFW

Depictions of M/M sex, oral sex, and anal sex

You couldn’t get home soon enough as the two of you could barely keep your hands off each other. Enji even ran 3 red lights in order to get home faster. The sun just set as you pull up in the driveway. Enji was so excited/nervous that he struggled get to key in the lock. Once the door closed, you were all over one another. He slammed you against a wall as he pressed his whole body on you. The cologne he is wearing is driving you insane as it mixes with his natural sent. You were getting weak at the knees from the onslaught of his body and lips. Before, you always took things slow, but now you are practically eating each other as your lips collide. Not an inch of space was between the both of you as you continue kissing. Your one hand grabs his lower back as the other runs through his hair. He has a forceful grip around your chest as you kiss for what feels like forever.

After some time, you break the kiss and look him right on the eyes, those turquoise eyes of his making your heart flutter. In the heat the moment you say: “I love you, Enji.” The words you spoke broke his concentration on you.

“That was out of nowhere.”

“Well, I mean it, I don’t think I have ever fallen in love with someone like this before. I mean with Adam, I did like him, and loved him as a friend but I see you and I growing old together, sharing laughs and sorrows. I know it’s all of a sudden but I really do love you. I’m sorry if it’s too soon for you.”

“Well, I don’t know if I am ready to say it yet but I’m glad you said it.”

“I hope I didn’t ruin the mood but I felt like I had to say something.”

“You didn’t ruin anything….” he says as he begins kissing you again, this time taking it slower. Each kiss on your face deliberate and gentle. You can’t help but moan as he is driving you wild, bucking and writhing in his arms as your body wants more.  He starts to lead to towards the bedroom as you are entangled with one another. After managing to find the door, he slams it open and you quickly find yourself on the bed. Looking up, the big man himself starts stripping at the end of the bed as you watch with baited breath. He takes his time, letting you savor the moment. The shirt is the first thing to come off, button by button, revealing that magnificent upper body of his. The pants come down next, as he turns around so you get the full view. You have to stop yourself from grabbing that delicious ass of his. You have seen him in his underwear practically every night but things are a little bit different now. There is a nice outline forming on his boxer briefs. He winks at you as he slowly lowers his underwear with both thumbs in the waistband. That’s when you see what you have been waiting for. Everything about Enji was big, but my god, that cock of his was something else: close to 9 inches long and 2 inches wide. You hold your breath as you gaze upon Enji’s full body.

“You like what you see, boy?”

“Oh, yes. I’m ready.”

“You’re what?”

“God Enji, fuck me already.”

“Good, but your clothes are in the way. Take them off.” he growls

You strip down as quickly as you can, not wanting to slow the momentum. It’s difficult to get your pants off with your ragging erection but you manage. When you get to your underwear, you’re at the bed of the bed when end Enji stops you.

“Before we go any further, I want you to know I never want to hurt you. If anything gets too much, I want you to stop me. The safe word is ‘butternut’. You feel even the littlest bit uncomfortable, stop me. Ok?”

“I don’t think I will need it but it makes me feel safe, thank you.”

“Good, now get ready!”

He grabs the waistband of your underwear and rips them off of you in one swift motion. He smiles at what he sees. You’re not as big as him, but 6 inches is nothing to scoff at. Your both start embracing each other again, but this time you start grinding against this thigh, aching for relief. He notices this and pushes you down on the bed.

“I see someone is eager, how about I help you out a bit.”

He grabs your dick with one hand and begins pumping up and down slowly. You’re not small yourself but his massive hand practically covers the whole thing. You eventually start moving your hips in motion with his hand you’re getting close. He releases and you’re staring at him again.

“Don’t get too eager, we are just getting started.”

He flips you over and moves over to the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. He gently squeezes a generous amount in his left hand and begins to warm is up with his quirk. With a smirk, he begins making circles around your rim, toying with you. Even though you have mentally prepared yourself, your body still tenses up when he starts to enter you with his index finger.

“For someone who has sex before, you’re awfully tight. It’s going to take at least 3 fingers to make sure your loose enough.”

“It’s been over 4 years since I got any, and you know an awful amount about anal sex for being a first timer.”

“Well, I do my research.” He says as he shifts his hand.

“Mmhmm……oh……ENJI!”

While you two were talking, he has been busy trying to find your buttons. Poking and prodding until he found the spots to drive you wild. Judging by the moans coming from you, he was having no trouble finding them. He then quickly takes his finger out only to be replaced by 2. This time he is taking it slower as you start shaking just enough for him to notice. He leans forward and gives your shoulder a few hot kisses. “Relax, I’ve got you.” He says as he pulls you up on all fours, his hot breath tickling your neck. The shaking subsides long enough for Enji to get his third finger. This time you breathing almost stops but he continues to kiss your back and run his hand through your hair, making sure you’re ok. After a few minutes, he pulls his hand away from your backside and you instinctively back up toward him, wanting more.

“Glad to see your eager again. Get ready.”

His voice almost sounding like a rumble as he puts lube on his shaft. He uses both hands to spread your backside wide. Then he uses hand for bracing, one hand for aiming as he puts his tip at your back door. You stop breathing in anticipation and you know Enji has the biggest grin on his face right now. Slowly, he starts to push himself into you and you moan before not breathing again. He steadies himself to wait for you to relax. This action goes for a few minutes, pushing forward and waiting for you to adjust to his size, always making sure you are ok. The entire time he uses his quirk to massage your backside with his hands, keeping you grounded. Finally, when he is fully in, he leans forwards to give you a kiss on the back of your neck. The action moving him inside of you just the right way to rub against your prostate.

“OH MY GOD!” You scream, but you use all of your will power to hold it in.

“It looks like I found a good spot, are you ok?”

“I….I’ll be fine, just don’t move too much.” You say with heavy breathing. He stays on top of you for a minute or so then slow gets back up. He starts to slowly pull out then he quickly pushes himself back in. You raise your head back in ecstasy as he keeps thrusting in and out. The initial pain starts to turn to pleasure as your moans grow louder with each thrust. His skin starts to warm up as he starts to move faster and faster. The room is filled with the sounds of grunts, moans and skin slapping against each other. Steam starts coming off of his skin as he loses control. You try to match his pace but you’re starting to lose feeling in your legs again. He switches to both hands around your waste to support you.

“Little flame, in or out?”

“In!” you manage to say between your moans.

Not a second later Enji releases inside of you. It’s hot and you feel it filling your insides with every pump of his cock. It continues for what feels like forever but then starts to slow down till nothing is left. That’s when he falls on top of you. You can’t hold his motionless body up and you both land on the bed.

“Enji, you’re crushing me….”

“Sorry, I got so selfish. I didn’t hear you finish.”

“It’s ok.” you say still panting.

“I won’t be happy till you do, now turn over.”

“You’re going to have to do it for me, I lost feeling in in my legs.”

“What?! Are you ok? Why didn’t you say to stop?”

“I’m fine, it was just too good and you know I get weak at the knees when your around me.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says as he rolls you over, positioning your legs so he can see your dick more clearly. With one fell swoop, he takes your whole shaft into his mouth and begins sucking. You’re just long enough to feel the back of his throat as he uses his tongue to great success. His mouth was so hot that it almost feels like you’re on fire but it eventually turns to pleasure. You would have thought he has given head before but you don’t dare ask, you just want him to keep going. He then starts to move his head up and down as uses his lips to create more suction. Every once and a while he lifts fully off with a ‘pop’ sound as he releases your tip. He quickly then goes back all the way down. It doesn’t take long till your feeling hot inside and your about ready to burst.

“Enji, I….I can’t hold it…..” you say through gritted teeth.

All he can do is grunt with your member in his mouth but you understood. You release everything into Enji’s throat as he quickly swallows everything. Once you’re done, he lifts up and crawls on the bed next to you. He wraps those big arms of his around you and kisses your face.

“How is my little flame?”

“That…. that was amazing.”

“I know” he says with a boasting smile “it was great for me too.”

“Uh, Enji, we might have a problem.”

“Hmm?” He tilts his head.

“You finished in me first and I have been on my backside….”

He raises an eyebrow in confusion until he realizes what happened. “Let’s clean up, and I’ll change the sheets.”

He draws a bath and comes back to carry you into the bathroom. Your legs are still numb from everything but you don’t care, you love it when he is carrying you. He manages to get you both in the large tub, him against the back of the tub with you in front of him. He slowly starts to scrub your skin, as if he could hurt you: so gentle and kind with his motions. You two soak in the warm water as you bask in each other’s presence. You rest your head on his chest as he rubs your head. You sit in the bath for a while as you two relax.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes Enji.”

“I think am now ready to say it.”

“Hmm?” You respond now are looking at him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“Really? Why now?”

“I have never felt this way about anyone and I keep going back to how you described love, then I keep going back to thinking about you. You are the only person who has ever wanted to know who I am and to help me as a person. I never would have thought I could have had this feeling of love before. I always thought I was full of hate and anger.”

“I’m glad you finally said it and I know you’re full of so much love and happiness, we just need to find it, together. Oh, and Enji.”

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

You two kiss a few times before it is time to get ready for bed. Enji quickly changes the sheets as you sit on a chair in the room. He places you in bed and quickly gets under the covers. Even though you’re both still naked at this point, Enji is producing enough heat to keep you both warm.

“You know I’m so glad I helped at the crossing incident.”

“You should be, you saved everyone.”

“Plus, I meet you.” You say giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, yea.” As he blushes.

Next Chapter

#A Hellish Encounter #endeavor x male reader #endeavor stan #endeavor smut #enji todoroki #enji x reader #enji x y/n #endeavor #endeavor mha #my hero academia enji #bnha endeavour #endeavour x reader #enji smut #endeavor fluff

[mdawritings]

“Arrested” [Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader]

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: E

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader

Wordcount: 8,510

Summary: 

The BAU is working a case in the DC area: an unsub killing women outside of nightclubs and bars. When you get arrested and manage to end up in the same precinct as Aaron Hotchner, the team discovers that their unit chief has been sleeping with a MUCH younger woman. Even more importantly, they discover that aside from being Hotch's fuck buddy, you have had direct contact with the unsub. Told through cute and smutty flashbacks throughout your relationship with Aaron.

AO3 Link

It had been weeks since you’d seen Aaron. The first week you didn’t see him was because of a case over the weekend in Florida. You had sent him a few scandalous pictures while he was flying home…

You rest your head against the arm of your sofa lazily. You reach for the phone and look at the simple text from Aaron. “On the way home now. I want to see you soon.” Just those words send bolts of happiness, excitement, and arousal through you. You press the top of your phone to your lips to suppress your growing smile. You text him back.

“Been imagining your hands touching me instead of my own”

Aaron picks up his phone at the chime. He reads the message from you and can’t help but start to stir a little. God, the thoughts of you home alone… touching yourself thinking about him. Yeah, that definitely does something to him. It’s not like you weren’t in his thoughts the entire time. It's difficult to focus on a case when all he really wants is to be home, buried under the covers with you, taking in your light, yet intoxicating perfume. Touching your soft, perfect skin. Hearing you scream his name… He almost lets out a moan but catches himself and looks around the jet at his sleeping coworkers.

He quickly replies to your message, “Oh yeah?”

You jump up from the couch, exhaustion rapidly dissipating from your previously sore limbs at the thought of seeing Aaron tonight. Memories of his large hands touching, groping, squeezing your body flood into your mind.

You hurry to slip on the purple lingerie set you bought. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror. You take a few minutes, capturing some, quite honestly, fucking amazing photos.

“Missing the feeling of you buried inside me” You send the photos along. You grow even happier at the thought of him getting a fucking hard-on while just a few feet away from his sleeping coworkers. You revel in the effect you manage to have over such a powerful, dominant, authoritative man. It makes you especially proud to think about his normal demeanor, stoic, hard-faced, serious, and how easy it is for you to reduce him to simpering, whimpering, moaning mess under your touch. Your phone chimes a mere seconds after sending the photos.

“You are torturing me. We HAVE to see each other when I land”

You fell asleep in your bed in that lingerie waiting for him. You didn’t see his messages until the next morning, saying the sitter for Jack fell through and he probably wouldn’t be able to see you until next weekend.

At the start of the second week, he got called away to a case in California. That one took up the whole week and by the time he got home, he was way too exhausted to spend time with you.

This kind of thing went on for two weeks. A full month without Aaron had been torture. It wasn’t like you expected him to drop everything and come running to you. You understand he has a kid to take care of and an FBI unit to run. Plus, it isn’t like you two are really dating. Do you sometimes wish you were? Hell yes. Is it reasonable or feasible? Absolutely not.

That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy what you have going on right now. He comes over to your place, tired and frustrated from a long day at work, and he— well he fucks your brain out. You’re always working hard on your Ph.D. and Aaron’s job is just plain stressful. You both need and enjoy the amazing stress relieving benefits of casual sex. You do enjoy each other’s company without having sex sometimes. It usually happens on those weekends when you or he or both of you are way too exhausted. But really, it's the moments after sex that make you question what you truly are to one another…

Your heart rate begins to steady and you can’t help but smile up at Aaron. He looks down at you with that small Hotchner version of a smile. It’s a smile that wouldn’t seem like much to anyone else, but you know how infrequently he lets the corners of his mouth turn up in happiness. “How do you do it?”

You soon realize after letting the words out, (and from the confusion on his face), that he cannot, in fact, read your mind and understand what you mean, “How do you go from seeing all that bad out there in the world to lying in this bed with me with that adorable smile on your face?”

For a split second, you think you’ve said something wrong. The smile falls from his face and his brows tense up. You always tease him about his eyebrows, telling him the more he frowns the more wrinkles he’ll get.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to cross a line—”

“I don’t want to pull you into all this… my work. I want to protect you from it.” Your heart practically sinks into your stomach. That’s not the type of language you use with your casual sex partner. Then again, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he leaves for a case. You worry that you’ll never see him again. You won’t even find out he’s dead because no one knows about the two of you.

“Y/N,” he pulls you out of your thoughts. His voice cuts through the silent room and you look back up into his soft eyes. They’re searching your face, scanning your behavior. You can tell he’s trying to figure out what you could possibly be thinking.

“Stop doing that,” you warn him, but your tone is light-hearted, “That whole studying my behavior thing you do.”

“Profiling,” he corrects you and runs a hand over your hair. The action is like a natural reflex for him, he’s not even consciously aware he’s pulling you closer to him.

“Right. That. Stop profiling me,” you laugh.

“Well, how am I supposed to know what’s spinning around in your head when you zone out like that.”

“I’m thinking about the fact that you listen to me rattle on and on about statistical physics but you don’t talk about your job.”

“You need to stop talking about physics after sex. It makes me feel like I’m sleeping with Reid,” he laughs and notices your confusion, “He’s a coworker of mine. You’d like him.”

You’d like him. That phrase sticks with you. Does that mean he wants you to meet his coworkers someday?

You’re not sure why you and Aaron never discuss a real relationship. Well, it’s more like Aaron never discusses a real relationship. Aaron doesn’t really discuss anything. The first time you really talked to him you thought his closed-off nature was charming, dreamy…

“Aaron Hotchner… right?” You look over the man who has just walked up to the bar next to you.

He reaches for the beers he’s just ordered, obviously for a group, but stops as you call out his name, “I’m sorry do I know you?”

“You work for the FBI… Behavioral something unit.” Your laugh sounds loud and obnoxious to you, but to him, it’s bright and cuts through the din of the chaotic bar.

“Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Aaron’s eyebrows furrow. He looks you over before turning his attention back to your face, searching it for answers.

“Oh god!” You're not really the type to strike up a conversation with a man in a bar but you’re feeling bold, not to mention empowered by the liquor, “I must seem so crazy. You gave a talk at Georgetown I attended. I’m a Ph.D. student there. It was about criminal psychology.” His face softens as he begins to realize you’re not a crazy stalker nor an obsessed fan. You stick your hand out for him to shake, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, again, I guess,” He nods as he shakes your hand. You can tell he’s just trying to be polite and he glances over his shoulder at a group of people at a booth. Their eyes are all on you two. He wants to go back but something about you is drawing him in. “So you’re pursuing a Ph.D. in psychology?” He moves to sit at the bar next to you.

“Actually no.” You feel flush rushing into your face as he moves closer to you and sits down. You can’t help but look over his body. He’s much closer to your height now that he’s sitting down. He’s wearing a black quarter zip and dark jeans. His hair is neatly gelled back. He does not fit into this atmosphere. “I’m getting a Ph.D. in physics. I conduct theoretical research on the experimental implementation of quantum computing with trapped ions in— I conduct research.” Your blush deepens.

Aaron smiles widely at your ranting before jumping in, “So what were you doing in a criminal psychology lecture?”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment, “I snuck in. It sounded interesting.” You shrug slightly and reach for the drink from the bartender. “I almost didn’t show up, but then a classmate told me one of the FBI agents was very attractive.” You give a small wink before reaching for your check for your drinks from the night. “And she was right, Agent Prentiss is drop-dead gorgeous.” Your attempts to keep a poker face fail, your lips curling with delight.

Aaron laughs as he takes the check from your hands. “You don’t have to—” You protest slightly but Aaron holds up his hand to silence you.

“My treat. As a thank you, for breaking the rules to see my lecture.” He shares in your smile as he hands the bartender his card, paying for your drinks. Your ex just broke up with you a few weeks prior so you came out to cheer yourself up. Seeing Aaron Hotchner up close and personal is… definitely a pick me up.

“Do you have a business card or something?”

“Uh… yes.” Aaron is hesitant to hand it over but reaches into his wallet for one. You grab a pen and take the business card from Aaron. You scribble down your number on the back and hand it to him.

“This is my number.” You hold it out before reaching for your purse. He looks down at the number and then back up at you. For a grown, adult man, he doesn’t seem to understand. You can see confusion written all over his face, it’s quite adorable honestly. His face though it seemingly remains emotionless, in just the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him, you see hints of smiles hidden under a professional, powerful exterior.

“Call me sometime. You know, so I can pay you back for that drink.” You stand up from the bar, legs weak from the heavy drinking you’ve done, “Or if you just want some company.” He nods slightly in response and you turn to leave. You can’t help but turn for a second to watch as Aaron walks back to his table of what appear to be friends. One of the women looks back at you and smiles the most infectious, sweetest smile at you. You return it and move to leave the bar.

It wasn’t until late that night that you got a call. The drinking your sorrows away didn’t stop once you left that bar. You were curled up on your couch, a glass of wine clutched in your hands.

“Hello?” you mumble into the phone, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter.

“We didn’t really get to talk much at the bar, but I’m pretty sure you made some promises about paying me back for that drink,” A stern man’s voice cuts through the phone.

“Aaron?” you ask momentarily confused, “It—It’s late, are you drunk?”

Your laugh rings through the phone and it’s that laugh that has Aaron so intensely drawn to you. He can’t help himself. He needs to be near you, “Just go to the door.”

You stand up, “My door? How did you get my—oh right. FBI agent,” you muse and open your door. And there he is, standing at the door with the phone pressed to his ear. He pulls it away and hangs up. “This is incredibly creepy, I hope you know that.” You lean against the doorframe, pulling your large sweater around yourself tighter. His eyes run over you. You grin slightly, catching his wandering gaze, and at that, he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“So about that drink you owe me.” Aaron takes a few hesitant steps into your apartment. He closes the door behind him, “How about you pay me back wit—” he starts to talk but you don’t let him finish his sentence. You grip his shirt and pull him close, your lips melting against his.

It’s messy and passionate and needy. You struggle to stumble along, guiding him towards your bedroom and his hands are touching every inch of you. He hurriedly pulls your sweater off and tosses it off to the side before unzipping your dress. You let it fall to the floor and kick it off as you match his frantic pace, pulling off his shirt and pushing down his jeans. He lays you down gently and reaches around to unclasp your bra.

“Holy fuck,” Aaron groans as he takes a second to take in your naked body.

Then he’s leaving a trail of soft kisses down the expanse of your chest and breasts. He travels down further. His lips brush against your inner thighs, his stubble tickling your skin. He smirks up at you wickedly as he grips your thong in his teeth, pulling it down your legs. You already know your soaking wet pussy will give away just how bad you want him right now.

He doesn’t hesitate, he goes to work on you. Licking and stroking and rubbing your clit. Your back arches and you grip the sheets and his hair. You massage your breasts, panting heavily as two of his fingers press into you, his tongue flicking your overly sensitive bud of nerves. “Oh god, Aaron yes!”

His name rolls off your tongue and you continue to chant it like a fucking mantra as his somehow rough yet gentle touch drives you wild. You feel the knots building in your stomach. Your legs tremble with pleasure as your eyes shut harshly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You’re panting intensely at this point and the whole room practically slips away as your orgasm hits and your body feels out of control. Every nerve ending on fire. And Aaron is merciless, he continues to lick and tease as you ride out your high.

He can’t help but grin proudly at the number he’s done on you. As he comes up to plant a few more kisses on your lips, you feel his rock hard erection pressing against your thigh. You kiss him hungrily while fumbling to stroke him through his boxers.

The groan the emerges from his lips is… holy fucking shit it’s sexy. You flip the two of you over so you’re on top of him, your chest pressed against his. You dip your hand into his boxers, pumping the entirety of his length. You feel him getting harder and his cock twitches in conjunction with a loud, throaty groan. “Y/N." His eyes flutter open and he grabs your arm to still your motions. “I need you, now.”

Within seconds he’s peeling his boxers off, you roll the condom down onto him and you slam your hips down on his. You can’t contain the loud gasps and moans as you feel your walls stretch around him. Fuck it’s been too long since you’ve had sex. You’re still for a second and Aaron bucks his hips, needing friction, needing to thrust and feel your tightness around him.

“Oh god." Your eyes are practically rolling back in your head as Aaron takes an agonizing pace, lifting your hips all the way up just to slam them all the way back down again.

He has a vice grip on your hips and you can feel the bruises forming under his fingertips. You grind your hips against his as you ride him faster. “Fuck you feel amazing,” Hotch lets out another one of those agonizingly sexy groans.

“I’m close,” you whine out. Aaron reaches to rub your clit with his thumb as he starts thrusting his hips up to meet yours chaotically. That combined with his large cock hitting your sweet spot sends you tumbling over the edge once again. It’s not long after that you feel his cock throbbing deep inside you, his hips messily thrusting and his face contorted up in pleasure. His panting becomes rapid and it's not long before he’s coming undone inside you. You flip off of him to collapse at his side on the bed.

“So when are we doing this again?” you pant heavily and hear a beautiful sound beside you. The sound of Aaron laughing.

Sometimes you worry if he’s embarrassed by you. I mean, you’re a few years shy of 20 years younger than him. You’re still in school. He was starting college by the time you were out of diapers. He runs a whole goddamn unit of the FBI and you’re still a student. You both are in entirely separate places in life, how do you reconcile that? It’s not as if he keeps you secret. Jessica knows you and you met his son Jack one time. Besides, you’re not really showing him off either. Not that you have many people to show him off to.

Like said, it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him which has just left you to sit around and overthink just about everything.

Aaron is working a case in DC. You saw the news reports the other day. Women were turning up dead in alleyways behind popular nightclubs and bars in the downtown area. Despite this horrifying news, you were happy when he told you the case was at home. It meant less travel. Less travel means Aaron is less tired. Which means more sex for you. And god, did you need sex.

It’s your friend’s 27th birthday and in an attempt to keep her from crying about getting a year older, you and a group of friends promised to go out drinking with her. You reach for your phone to check for any messages from Aaron. You would drop all your plans if he told you he was coming over tonight. There is one new message but it’s not exactly the text you were hoping for.

From: Aaron:

Please be safe for the next few days. Don’t go anywhere alone. Call me if there’s any trouble or if you need anything at all.”

You furrow your brows. It’s not news that Aaron cares about you and wants to look out for you but usually while on a case it’s radio silence from him. Yes, if you were really in danger he would want you to call immediately, but usually, he tells you he needs to focus on the job and nothing else. You dismiss the text, chalking it up to the presence of a serial killer in the city you both live in. Hell, you were pretty freaked out too. You had seen the girls on the news, 20-30, with your hair color and around your height.

You let out a long sigh, knowing you are most definitely not getting laid tonight. It’s time to get stupid drunk with your friends and enjoy your night anyway.

It does not take long for you and all your friends to reach the perfect level of sloppy drunk. Seeing as you all haven’t been out in months, what with some of you pursuing real jobs, grad school, med school, and whatnot, there hasn’t been a lot of time for screwing around as you did in college.

“So come on! You cannot still be single,” your close friend Sarah screams in your face over the music.

“It’s complicated,” you feel your words starting to string together. They’re not quite slurred but it’s getting there, “He just comes over, fucks my brains out, we spend some time together, and then it’s over.”

Your comments provoke a loud response of laughs and cheers from your friends, “So we don’t even get a name? Or a job? Or where you met him?”

“He guest lectured a course on abnormal and criminal psychology a few months ago,” You start to explain but Sarah is cutting you off before the words have left your mouth.

“Months? This has been going on for months?” You roll your eyes. The bartender places another full tray of shots in front of you guys. She nods towards a man at the edge of the bar. As you look up, he gives you a small wave and smiles. Creepy.

“No, I ran into him a few weeks after and I just gave him my number.” You down the shot, souring your face up before reaching for a lime wedge to chase it, “And then things just happened.”

“Name? Job? Age?” Another friend rattles off at you.

“Isn’t this Sarah’s birthday? Shouldn’t we be talking about her?” You try and steer the conversation away from yourself. You turn back to the bar and see that same man who sent you the shots staring at you. Even when you turn away you can feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

“Well I want to know, so this is a birthday present,” she continues to pry and it drives you crazy. You're just not ready to share what you and Aaron have with the world.

“His name is Aaron and he works in the FBI and he’s 45,” You mumble that last part into your glass as you take a long sip.

“He’s how old?” Your friend’s jaw drops and another friend grins widely. Your face is burning hot at embarrassment and all the attention.

“Can we all just shut up and drink?” you command forcefully before downing your own.

Hotch looks down at his phone, waiting for any sign that Y/N has seen his text. He doesn’t panic though. She has a life, she’s busy. She probably has plans for the evening. Maybe she’s out… with someone. Aaron shakes his head slightly before forcing his attention to the case. But his mind wanders. Would she go out with someone? It’s not like anything between them is defined. I mean, he would never go out with anyone else. He just wants her. If she wants to go out on a date she can do whatever she wants. Yet, Hotch can’t help but feel the jealousy coursing through his body. The idea of someone else touching her… yeah, that makes him angry.

His more rational thinking takes over. Maybe she’s busy with school work. He knows how hard she’s been working on her research. He fails to hide a smile as he thinks about the way her face lights up when talking about her research. The passion she has for her work is extremely adorable...

You hear three short raps at the door, “It’s open!” you call out as you rush to get all your thoughts down on your computer. You hear the door open and the footsteps approaching.

“You leave your door unlocked? Do you realize how incredibly unsafe and unwise that is?” You can hear that Aaron probably has his stern face on, judging by the disapproval in his voice.

“I knew you were coming,” You shrug and gnaw at your bottom lip furiously as you work, “I just need one moment. I was thinking that in a controlled quantum environment...” As you start to ramble Aaron’s hands snake around your waist. He pushes your hair to the side, placing feather-light kisses along your neck.

“Mm,” He mumbles against you.

“Wait, wait,” you moan, “If you keep doing that I’m going to lose my train of thought and I will never forgive you unless you can formulate how to create thermal distrib—” He nips at your skin and gives your hips a squeeze. Your groans grow louder.

“The physics can wait,” Aaron growls against your skin, turning you around so he can passionately kiss you, “I need you now.”

The panic doesn’t ease because Aaron reaches to call you once again. You don’t pick up because well… you’re a little preoccupied drowning your liver. He thinks, if you had just given a small ok text, he would know you’re safe. But he’s panicking. He continues to panic for the next hour until something unexpected soothes that anxiety. The sound of your screaming drunken voice radiating throughout the entirety of the precinct the team is working in. But as soon as the wave of anxiety dissipates, he feels his stomach drop.

“I’m a victim here!” you screech and cement your legs in place so that the officers holding your arms are practically dragging you.

“Ma’am please!” You kick your legs violently as the officers try to seat you in a chair. They undo your handcuffs and redo them so that your hand is cuffed to the desk. “We’re understaffed and backed up so you sit here and shut up while we get you booked.”

“He was feeling me up! Under the skirt over the panties. He grabbed my ass, I’m sure I have a mark you wanna see it? He assaulted me!” you continue to screech and reach for the hem of your dress, ready to flash every cop in the precinct your ass.

“So you smashed a bottle over his head? Real ladylike,” one of the officers steps forward and holds your hand tight to keep you from lifting the dress.

“Don’t I get a phone call.” Now your words are slurred together. That last round of shots before you got arrested is hitting you hard.

“Once we book you.”

“I know a federal agent. From the FBI,” you spell out the letters obnoxiously, “Do you even know what that is?”

“Yes, I’m sure the federal government will come running to post your bail. Stay here. Don’t move,” the officer commands and you hold up your handcuffed wrist to demonstrate that you’re quite frankly incapable of going anywhere.

“Oh my god,” Prentiss lets out a small laugh from the conference room. “I can hear her through the closed doors.”

“Well, most of this room is glass and sound travels through the glass just about the same as it does air. A better insulating material would be a foam or fiberglass or even a mineral wood composite,” Reid clarifies before giving that signature tight-lipped smile.

“She is… really something,” Morgan laughs and nudges Hotch, “Hotch look.”

Hotch turns and sees what he’s dreading. He sees you, drunk out of your mind. Your skimpy dress is somehow simultaneously riding low on top and riding up on the bottom. You have a small cut lip and a little bit of blood on your dress. His brows furrow deeply. “Oh god,” he mutters under his breath.

“These cops are supposed to stay in the bars and clubs for protection. Why are they wasting time on drunk girls?” Rossi finally chimes in.

The cops finally get you settled into a chair and you kick your feet like a child. “Call the FBI! I know them.”

“Oh does she now. You guys know her?” JJ rolls her eyes and laughs, “I am so glad I never got arrested when I was in college. My parents would’ve killed me.”

“College? Girls do not look like that in college,” Morgan smirks.

“We have to focus on the case,” Hotch's jaw tightens as he sees Morgan look over your body. It’s not something new for Morgan but when he’s making those eyes at you specifically, Hotch feels that surge of jealousy again.

“Call them! Call Agent Aaron Hotchner.” You lean back and try to cross your arms, but your right hand is yanked back by the cuffs.

The team all turns to Hotch with wide eyes. “You know her?” Rossi smirks.

“Where exactly do you know her from?” Emily fights the grin growing on her lips as she looks over her stone-faced boss.

“I’m sorry what?” The cop glances down at you.

“Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioral Unit Analysis Science thing or something like that he’s in the FBI he’s unit chief. I know him.” You roll your eyes at the cop who is speechless, “Oh god. Are you that thick? A-A-R-O-N H-O-T-C-H…” you trail off the alcohol inhibiting your spelling capabilities, “N-E-R. Aaron Hotchner! Call him and he’ll tell you to let me go.”.

The cop glances at some of his coworkers before looking at the conference room. You follow his gaze and see Aaron with a large group of other well-dressed agents. “Oh fuck,” you mutter. Aaron opens the glass doors and steps out of them walking towards you.

“So how does he know this girl?” Prentiss tries her best to hide her spying on you and Aaron.

“I got money on babysitter,” Morgan nods.

“No way, she’d be with Jack right now. I’d say she met him at work." JJ leans against the desk, watching Hotch as he looks down at you, crossing his arms.

“Then we’d all have seen her before. Plus she wouldn’t be telling them she knows the FBI. She would technically be part of the FBI. Why not use that?” Rossi rubs a hand over his goatee.

“He’s sleeping with her,” Reid states simply before turning back to his geographical profile on the board.

“What?” Multiple members of the team turn in shock, not only at the statement but at the fact that Reid is the one making it.

“No way. She’s… at most 27 years old.” Morgan shakes his head, “She is not Hotch’s type.”

“Are you jealous that Hotch has more game than you?” Reid teases without turning away from his work.

“When was your last date, pretty boy? Huh?” Morgan hits him on the back of the head playfully.

“Officer.” Aaron steps in between you and the officer. Good thing, because two more minutes with that guy and you would be charged with a lot more than resisting arrest and public disturbance.

“Aaron!” you squeak, “I didn’t know you were here!”

“Well, she’s definitely not a coworker. She called him Aaron.” Rossi nods at the rest of the team still in the conference room. For a team of profilers, their attempts to hide the spying are weak at best.

“I’ll take care of her.” He doesn’t bother looking at you, but he gives the officer his best unit-chief glare.

“Sir we have a process to go through here. We’re still processing her arrest,” the officer attempts to argue with Hotch but you can see the discomfort clearly in the officer. He struggles to meet Hotch’s eyes.

“Please officer, we have much more to deal with here. I want to find this guy before another body drops. We need you out there patrolling the bars for the guys, not the drunk girls the creeps hit on.” Aaron takes on a stern voice.

“Yes agent.” The cop is visibly annoyed but isn’t willing to get into a fight with a federal agent all over your stupid drunk ass.

“Are you injured? You’re bleeding.” He grabs your chin in his calloused fingers, turning your face from side to side to assess the small cuts. You almost moan into his touch but remember the current location.

“No, no it’s someone else’s.” You turn out of his grip, trying to push his hands off.

“Someone else’s? What did you do?” Fuck. Aaron is furious with you. His arms are crossed against his chest and you can see the veins in his neck standing out. The tone he takes with you is harsh and you’re not used to him speaking with you like that… at least not used to it outside the bedroom.

“It’s not my fault okay!”

Aaron holds the bridge of his nose frustratedly, “Y/N. I have a serial killer to profile, catch, and stop from murdering innocent women. Can I just get the truth?”

“This creepy guy kept sending me and my friends drinks all night so when I went to the bar to get us another round he came over. Things got messy.” You shrug your shoulders. “Can you take off these cuffs now?” You hold out your wrists, pouting out your bottom lip. You can physically see him soften at that.

As Aaron reaches for the key and undoes the cuffs, he shakes his head at the stench of alcohol seeping out of you, “You’re gonna have to do better than things got messy.”

“I just…” You pause, knowing the details of the story are going to make him upset but he wants the truth, “I knew he was a little off. Weird and creepy and pushy, you know?” You rub your irritated wrists, “So he starts talking to me, offering me some drink. I know better than to accept a drink from a stranger so I turned him down. That's when he grabbed my arm and well… tried to cop a feel.”

“Cop a feel?” Aaron’s jaw has tightened and his hands are clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles are pale.

“He slid his hands under my dress.” Your hand ghosts over the sore spot on your bottom where the man dug his fingers into your flesh, “He grabbed my legs and then my ass and then… and then he tried to get his hands in my underwear.” You show Aaron the red marks on your inner thigh. You’re not sure what you expect from him, but his face remains hardened. The only emotion readable on him is anger.

“The blood is from self-defense,” Aaron begins to understand.

You nod, confirming his statement, “I grabbed the first thing I could and smashed him on the head. I think I sliced his eyebrow. By the time the cops came, he was gone and I was in cuffs.”

Aaron looks back at his team in the conference room. In a poor attempt to hide their spying, they all rapidly turn their eyes to their work. He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes looking over the red bruising on your cheek. He fights every urge to reach out and touch you, stroke your face softly and kiss your lips, “Did he hurt you? We should get a medic to check you out or–”

He doesn’t have a second to finish that thought. “Hotch, another body just dropped,” Morgan and Prentiss come rushing out of the conference room, “We’re going to the crime scene now.”

Aaron nods at his team members, “Call me if anything stands out.” The team nods and Aaron reaches for your arm, walking you towards the rest of the team, “I don’t want you alone right now. You’re going to sit here and keep quiet, understand?”

You bite your lip and look around at the team, still pretending as if they’re not listening in, “Jeez way to embarrass me, Aaron,” you mumble under your breath as you drop down into a chair with a loud sigh like a child.

JJ can’t help but come over to talk to you, “I’m Jennifer." You give her your name, "It's so nice to meet you Y/N, how do you and Hotch know each other?”

“Hotch?” you let out before quickly realizing the nickname for Aaron. You shake her hand, “Oh Agent Hotchner and I are just fuc–“

“Friends,” Aaron cuts in, “Y/N and I are friends. We have a case to get back to,” Aaron frantically changes the topic of conversation but your little comment doesn’t go unnoticed by the team members. Even Reid is smiling slightly at your comment.

You sit back in your chair and take in the sight of Agent Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. The confident and commanding energy he exudes is immensely attractive. It’s not long before the agents that left for the crime scene, Morgan and Prentiss return with news for Aaron.

“Sir we found something weird at the crime scene,” Morgan steps back into the room.

“Weird?” Hotch cocks his head slightly to the side.

“There were droplets of blood over the victim’s dress but it wasn’t her own,” Morgan shakes his head.

“But you called and said she had no defensive wounds, he drugged her like the others. How could he have been injured?” Hotch turns back to the other case files.

“We’re not sure,” Emily shakes her head, “It’s possible it’s unrelated but maybe he might have been hospitalized for something recently?”

“What about any witnesses?” Hotch nods, “Any people at Churchkey bar see anything unusual? A man that was a little too forceful with women?”

You snort slightly at that, “I wouldn’t say that’s unusual for a bar.”

Hotch shoots you a hard glare that shuts you up for good, while Prentiss lets a smile shine through.

“The bar was mostly cleared out. Apparently the bar was packed earlier tonight but it cleared out after a bar fight broke out.” Morgan informs the team.

You bite your lip harshly. Aaron told you no talking but… this is more important, right? “Wait, Churchkey bar?” You finally speak up and all the agents turn their attention to you.

“What about it?”

“That’s the bar I was at tonight.” You trail off at the end of your sentence.

“You remember someone or something off?” Rossi looks over your body language.

“I think I talked to the unsub. I think... I’m the one who injured him." You unconsciously wrap your arms tightly around your body.

“You think you could walk me through the night? Tell me about him, it could really help us,” Morgan moves to sit on the edge of the desk to face you. "We could do a cognitive interview." He nods at Hotch.

"A cognitive?" You look between the two men.

"It's a memory recall exercise. We would walk you through the night and you tell us as much as you can," Morgan explains gently.

"And it could help you find him?" You ask, unsure how much you remember about him.

"You might not realize the type of details that help us form the profile." Morgan places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Aaron clears his throat. “She’s not sober enough for a cognitive." You can tell that the fact that his personal life is bleeding into his work is driving him crazy.

“If I can help catch this creep, I want to help. I’m fine.” You touch your finger to your nose a few times in an attempt to demonstrate your sobriety.

“Then you should drink some coffee before we start,” Aaron dismissively addresses you before turning to leave, “And I’m going to want the whole truth.” He stalks off towards the interrogation room.

Rossi runs to catch up with Aaron, pulling him off to the side. “Aaron, you cannot conduct this cognitive.”

“Excuse me?” Aaron snaps, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Take a step back, pretend she’s not someone you clearly care about,” Aaron rolls his eyes at Rossi’s comment but plays along as he continues.

“She’s a young girl… just how young is she?” Rossi raises a brow at Aaron, losing his train of thought.

“Dave.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

Rossi holds his hands up in defense, “Fine, okay. She’s a young girl, she’s a little drunk, and she’s been sexually harassed in a bar by our unsub. Who do you send in to talk to her?”

“The least intimidating figures to her,” Aaron nods.

“So definitely not the angry boyfriend who wants to kill anyone who touches her,” Rossi clarifies.

“I’ll send in JJ and Prentiss,” Hotch sighs and turns before pausing, “And I’m not her boyfriend.”

Rossi simply smiles and pats Aaron’s back, “Ok boss.”

You sit up in your chair tiredly as Emily and JJ walk into the interrogation room.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Agent Prentiss and you’ve already met Agent Jareau,” Emily sits across from you.

“He can hear us, right?” You bite your lip and look towards the glass.

“Who can hear us?” JJ takes a seat and places a file in front of you.

“Aaron.” You search the glass, knowing that you won’t be able to see him but that he definitely can see you.

“Oh uh-” Emily pauses, unsure what to say in response.

“Do you want more privacy? I can ask the agents to leave.” JJ starts to stand.

“Hearing this would help them figure who the killer is?” You’re gnawing your lip hard enough to draw blood, a nervous habit Aaron never hesitates to point out to you.

“Yes,” JJ sits back down.

“Then it’s fine.” You look over one last time, “Just make sure Aar— Agent Hotchner,” you correct yourself, “Make sure Agent Hotchner doesn’t lose his shit.”

“No promises,” Prentiss smirks and lets out a small breath, “We’re going to walk you through the night. If it gets to be too much you let us know and we’ll take a break, okay?”

Well, now you’re really nervous. You let out a small breath, “Okay.” You close your eyes as Agent Prentiss starts.

“You’re in the bar. It’s crowded…”

“Y/N I think he really likes you,” your friend Sarah laughs. “Come on go talk to him.”

“No, I really shouldn’t.” You feel dizzy and light on your feet from the alcohol the man has been plying you and your friends with.

“Why?” Another friend chimes in, “Big strong Agent Hotchner going to punish you for talking to another guy?” Your friends taunt you playfully.

You smile widely at them, “Yes, yes he will.”

“You naughty, naughty girl!” Sarah laughs. You feel eyes on you and look back to the man at the bar. He’s hunched over in his stool. He looks nervous, but he smiles sheepishly at you and waves. It’s not long before he’s calling the bartender over again and pointing at you animatedly.

“Next round is on me,” you say softly to your friends, keeping your eyes on the man’s face, memorizing every detail you can. His face is young but worn and tired. The wrinkles on his forehead tell you he frowns a lot. They’re lines that appear on Aaron’s face too. You think about how you tease Aaron about smiling more. God, you miss Aaron right now. You wish he was here to make you feel safe. As you walk up to the bar, your presence causes the man to stand up and move closer.

“I was going to order you and your friends more drinks. I ordered you a vodka soda. It’s what you’ve been drinking all night, right?” He stutters slightly as he talks to you. He slides a glass over to you, but you know better. Strange man... drink that you didn’t see the bartender actually make... no way.

“I was actually going to order a beer,” you try to reject the glass, “You take the vodka soda though. You’ll see why they’ve been my go-to all night. He’s been making them very strong.” You look at the bartender, ordering a beer. You pray that the young bartender senses your discomfort.

“Come on it’s a harmless drink.” The strange man moves into you, pushing the glass closer. “You have the drink, we’ll get to know each other better… you’ll like it. I can make you like it.”

Thinking about his words sends chills down your spine. You have to take a moment to let out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure you want to continue listening to this?” Rossi eyes Hotch. Hotch’s face is contorted so harshly into a mixture of anger, disgust, and sadness. His neck muscles tense, his arms are tightly crossed against his body. He doesn’t even acknowledge Rossi.

“Can you keep going?” JJ eyes your face. You nod.

“No thank you, and no more drinks for my friends and I. We can get our own drinks.” You turn to grab your beer but soon the man stops you. He grabs your wrist tightly, placing his other hand behind your back. He pulls you flush against him. His rough, calloused fingertips grab and scratch up your thighs, under the dress. He grabs your ass so hard you want to scream out. He continues to trail his fingers up, hooking around your panties and—

A sickening shattering noise and cracking erupt as you swing the beer bottle at his head. The man screams. “You bitch!” He slaps your face. You stumble back, falling on the floor, cutting your hands on the broken glass from the bottle. Your skin is sticky with alcohol and you glance down at the blood on your dress. The bar grows louder. The commotion intensifies. You feel a friend’s hands wrap around your arms pulling you up off the ground.

“Wait he—!” You look around for the man but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Not long after that I was being shoved into a cop car and escorted here.” You finally open your eyes and look at the two agents.

“I can make you like it?” Emily asks you to clarify. She speaks slowly clearly enunciating her words but you can hear the disgusted tone in her voice.

“That’s exactly what he said.” You wrap your arms around yourself, “Does that all help?”

“Yes, yes it does,” JJ reaches out to touch your hand gently. Your eyes flick back to the one-way glass. You can’t see Aaron but you can tell he’s probably fuming. He probably has that signature scowl on his face.

“Am I—” You clear your throat and try to adjust your dress for more modesty, “Can I go?” Prentiss gives you a sad, pity-filled smile and nods. You stand up quickly and exit the room in a rush, colliding with Aaron’s strong chest as you do. You look up into his eyes and you see something in his face you’ve never seen in all the times you've been with him: sadness. You bury your face into his chest and his arms wrap tightly around you. “I was scared,” You choke out as his large, warm hands rub circles into your back, “I needed you.” You ball up his shirt in your fists. You’re not one to cry easily, but your body shakes as you breathe heavily.

“I know,” his voice cracks as he rests his chin on top of your head. He runs one hand over your hair softly, shushing you gently, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You pull away from his chest and frantically pull his lips down to yours. A strong hand goes to your back, holding you close to him. You hear the interrogation room door open behind you, the two agents stepping out, but neither you nor Aaron break the kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” Aaron breathes against your lips, pulling you back into a tight hug. “You’re safe here with me now.”

———

You lift the heavy metal knocker and let it slam down twice, waiting for the door to open. When it does, Rossi envelops you in his arms, a wide smile spreading across his lips. He grabs your face tightly, kissing each cheek joyfully. “Bellissimo! I’m so glad you could make it.” Rossi places a gentle hand on your back and leads you inside.

You walk into the crowded kitchen and the members of the BAU all turn and smile back at you. Aaron moves towards you and quickly gives you a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m so happy you’re here." 

“I’m so glad you’re finally home.” You pull away from Aaron to make the rounds hugging the people who are like family to you at this point.

Morgan wraps a friendly arm around your shoulder and can’t help but tease Aaron, “Hotch, you couldn’t be bothered to pick up your girl?” He turns to smile at you while Aaron shakes his head.

“I had to stop by the research lab so I just had my classmate Tyler drop me off after we finished up." You shrug.

“Tyler, huh?” Rossi grins, hoping to rile up Aaron a little.

“Is he cute?” JJ chimes in with a laugh.

Aaron quickly clears his throat, hoping to change topics. He raises his brows at you, “So do you want to share the news or should I do it for you?”

“Oh my god, you’re totally preggers!” Garcia squeals and runs to hug you again. You glance at Aaron and can only laugh.

“No, no.” You smile as she pulls away and you look at the shocked faces of everyone in the kitchen, even Aaron looks a little rattled. You playfully nudge his arm, “See what you did? Always causing trouble.”

“Me? If I recall correctly you’re the one who got arrested for being drunk off your ass and trying to fight a serial killer.” His comment elicits a series of small laughs from everyone.

"Yeah and it helped you catch him, so really you all should thank me for being drunk." You playfully argue with Aaron. "Anyway, the actual news. No, I'm not pregnant." You point at Penelope as she opens her mouth to say something else. 

“You’re looking at the proud new owner of a Ph.D. in physics!” You do a small cheesy spin as the rest of the team congratulates you, “Handed in my final thesis paper today.” Aaron smiles proudly as you move back to his side.

“Yeah that’s great and all but you’re still two Ph.D.s behind me.” Spencer can’t help but tease you. In the past year, he’s become one of your closest friends, especially since Aaron can’t even seem to begin to understand your thesis research.

“All right cool it kid.” You joke with him.

“Kid? I’m older than you.” Spencer laughs. Aaron comes closer to wrap his arm around your waist. The gesture is comforting and just this touch sends waves of pleasure through your body.

“Reid might have two more Ph.D.s than you but he’s got nothing on your good looks.” Prentiss winks at you.

“She’s got that right,” Aaron smirks as he kisses your cheek gently.

“Ok, ok, enough small talk.” You feel your face flush, “I came here to learn some cooking from chef Rossi, not talk about how hot I am.” You see Aaron roll his eyes with a smile and you pull him close as Rossi starts the demonstration.

“I love you so much, you know that?” Aaron has his arms wrapped around you from behind. He speaks softly so only you can hear.

“I know,” You smile, happiness flooding through your body, “I love you too.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #smut #ao3 #read on ao3

[veinsandknuckles]

Comparison of appetites

Abed Nadir/f!Reader Abed reminds the reader that he’s a grown man and then proves his point. Pretty much straight up PWP, set sometime after season 3. Not BETAd, I got too impatient.

Explicit Content warnings: unprotected PIV sex

——–

“What are you doing?”

“God!” When Abed wasn’t in character as somebody else, he moved so softly you sometimes didn’t notice him until he was right beside you. You shut the fridge door and there he was. “...I’m just checking the fridge. It’s almost dinner time.”

Abed’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he surveyed the mess you’d already made. “Are you going to accidentally cook too much food again and then act like I’d be doing you a favour by eating some?”

Hmm. So much for your acting skills. “...no?”

Abed picked up a packet of noodles from the counter. “This is my favourite brand.”

“Is it?”

He frowned. It wasn’t that Abed couldn’t understand people, he was just usually too wrapped up in himself to turn his intense focus on you. When he did, he could see right through you. “I moved away from home five years ago. Please don’t try to take care of me.”

“Yeah, but Abed... I’ve seen you eat nothing but Let’s for three days straight. You’ll get scurvy.”

“That’s my problem, not yours.”

“I know you can look after yourself.” His intensity was starting to make you feel a little nervous. “I like it when we eat together, that’s all. It feels sad, cooking for one.”

Abed considered this and his stance softened. “Then we should take turns. I can take care of dinner tonight.”

It wasn’t often he took charge like this with you and you had no wish to stop him. There were limits though - you wouldn’t submit to a meal of all carbs. “Only if you’re getting take out.”

“Hm.” He reached out and plucked a menu from its place on the fridge. “How about this place?”

“Sure, I order from there all the time. I usually get -“

“Yes, I know your order.”

Either you were getting very predictable or Abed paid more attention to you than he let on. In case it was the former, you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “Fine, mister Alpha. Blow my mind.”

“I could get us a couple of beers.”

You felt yourself beginning to blush. You couldn’t help yourself. “...This is starting to sound like a date.”

Abed gave you a long, searching look. “Maybe it should be.”

His gaze dropped to your lips. The tension was becoming unbearable - and then it broke when you reached for him and he moved in close. With his hands on your waist, he pushed you gently but irresistibly against the fridge and pressed his lips to yours in an urgent kiss. As soon as the shock abated, you grabbed hold of the front of his sweater to keep him in place. The easiest way to be around him was soft and yielding and it’d never felt as easy or as right to let him take the lead as it did right now. Not if this was what he wanted...

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good kisser. He felt your reactions, heard you sigh and whimper and teased you to hear it again. In case it wasn’t enough encouragement, you took one of his hands in yours and guided it slowly down your side until it rested just below the hem of your skirt.

Abed gasped and broke the kiss, just barely. “Are you sure?”

“I am, if you are.”

He replied by kissing you again, teasing your lips apart and letting his hand explore its way up your thigh.

You refused to be outdone. Now that you finally had your hands on him you wanted to feel all of him, the firm muscles he always kept hidden and the soft, warm skin of his long neck... then his fingers grazed against your cunt and you whimpered. You wanted to spread your legs, undress yourself, undress him, whatever would move this forward the quickest but all you could manage to do was stay upright and try to keep reasonably quiet.

You’d watched him and you’d wanted him ever since you moved in but you’d been so sure he neither noticed nor cared what you thought. He’d been polite and direct and usually too busy to let you bridge the gap between roommates and friends. You had almost felt guilty, fantasising about someone who seemed so completely uninterested. Had this been why? His breath was hot and quick against your throat, his grip on your waist was almost rough and his touch was sure and eager - there was no doubt anymore that he wanted this as much as you did.

“God, Abed...”

“More?”

“Yes, yes please.”

Abed leaned out and looked around, then shoved everything you’d left on the kitchen counter far enough aside to make room for you. You took the hint and hopped onto it with his help, he pulled your panties down and off, dropped them on the floor without a look and got between your legs.

His eyes searched yours and he kept watching you as he spread your legs even wider apart, pulled you closer to him and then slowly slipped two fingers into you. The sound of you moaning for him, eager and shaky, made him swallow. As good as it felt to finally have him touch you, it was rivalled by the look of almost pained want on his handsome face - his eyes were wide, his lips were parted, he breathed fast. How long had he wanted this? Had you both lain awake hurting for each other with just a thin, cracked wall separating you? What a waste...

Abed knew what he was doing. He started slow, hooked his fingers slightly and pressed up against your clit every time he almost withdrew. Whatever pulled a more urgent sound from you, he tried again and he soon settled into a rhythm just slow enough to tempt you to beg him for more. Maybe he was teasing, maybe he was only being careful - it was hard to tell.

You weren’t interested in keeping things so one sided. You reached for him again, teased his stomach with your fingers, trailed kisses over the nape of his neck and shakily began to undo his fly.

“You don’t have to,” he said and there was an unmistakeable tremble in his voice.

“I appreciate that,” you replied and held on tight to your patience, “and same to you, but just to be clear, I want you to fuck me. I’ve waited long enough.”

He shut his eyes, then nodded. His movements slowed, allowing you to work his fly open quicker and finally slip your hand down the front of his pants. He gasped when you touched him and you couldn’t help but mirror it - he was so hard it must be painful. You felt his dick twitch in response when you wrapped your fingers around it and it took some manoeuvring to pull him free.

Abed was never shy and rarely embarrassed and it was difficult at times not to be a little intimidated by such perfect confidence. This was definitely one of those times, especially now that you had another piece of proof of how well earned his self esteem was. As hard as he was, your touch only made him draw a slow, noisy breath. His attention was as steadily fixed on you and his self control as unwavering and he let you stroke him and admire the view for a few moments in silence. Then he smiled ever so slightly and you shook yourself out of it.

You scooted closer, hooked your legs around his hips and pulled him towards you. Abed gently pushed your hand out of the way, lined up against you and slowly, carefully eased himself inside your cunt. You reached for him, held on for purchase with one arm around his shoulders and your fingers digging into his arm and pressed your free hand over your mouth not to alert the neighbours with your moans. With your eyes shut and your head spinning, everything in the world seemed to fade but the scent of his skin, the heat of his body against yours and your need to take him deeper.

You were wet enough that even in this awkward position and even as thick as he was, he slipped in easily, inch by inch, stopping only when his hips were pressed up against your thighs and he had buried himself to the hilt. With one hand on your ass and the other on the counter he held you in place and began to fuck you properly, fast and hard almost from the word go.

Your resolution to stay quiet didn’t last long. Instead you clung on to him, cried out each time he thrust back into you, wordlessly egging him on, and put your other arm behind your head in a feeble attempt to stop it bumping into the cupboard.

“Oh God...” you whined once you finally found your words again. “Please, please don’t stop...”

“Yeah,” Abed breathed and that seemed to be all he was capable of for the moment.

Either he’d taken your words to heart or he couldn’t make himself care enough to play nice any longer because he was rough with you and took what he wanted. He kissed you until it got awkward, he shivered, moaned and bit his lip to keep himself in check but if he noticed, or worried, about bruising you or fucking you too hard too soon, he didn’t show it.

To get him this affected, for him to want you this badly and take you the way he wanted to take you was a fevered daydream come true. The discomfort of the sticky counter beneath you, the edge of the fluorescent light digging into your neck and his hands holding you ever so slightly too tight only added to it. Without words, without anything else to focus on but the feel of him inside you, the push and pull, the almost-completion when he bottomed out in you and the impatient hunger when he withdrew even partly, it was impossible to tell one moment from the next. Your whines and moans sounded more and more pathetic and his soft sighs and gasps escaped him more and more often.

Eventually, after however long it’d been, Abed leaned out and fixed you with a look of longing. “I... I’ve wanted this...”

You trembled. “Me too.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I can last.”

Your cunt squeezed even tighter around him. The number of times you’d pictured what he might look like as he came undone... “Don’t hold back,” you whispered. “You can take me like this again, any time you like.”

Abed groaned. His brows furrowed, he shut his eyes tight and tried to breathe steadily but he was too far gone now to reign himself in. Without thinking, you locked him in place with your legs wrapped around him and your arms around his neck, kissed him and let him manoeuvre you as he wanted.

It took maybe two more desperate thrusts of his hips before he pulled you towards him and held you there. You felt as he came in you, felt it in the tension in his every muscle, heard it in his desperate, choked moan, felt it in his fingers digging into your flesh and felt it inside of you. Even as he rode it out, he pressed a final, clumsy kiss to your lips.

The next moments were also hard to define until reality began to creep back in. You had a crick in your neck and the kitchen was filthy, especially now; without the heat of the moment, it wasn’t so easy to ignore that everything about this was horribly uncomfortable. The two of you slowly caught your breath, eventually you relaxed and let him go and Abed stepped out and unceremoniously tucked himself back into his jeans. You shifted where you sat and realised with a blush that this skirt might have to be retired - the word sticky didn’t begin to describe it. Then Abed stroked your cheek with his thumb and you wanted to reach for him again.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sounding as steady as ever.

“I might be a little sore tomorrow,” you laughed. When he looked concerned, you continued, “in a good way. What about you?”

“I might walk a little funny.”

The question of ‘what happens now?’ was really beginning to loom, and you neither wanted to ask nor answer it yet. All of this would take some time to sink in and you were as unsure of your own answer as you were of his. Until this evening, you’d convinced yourself that the atmosphere in this apartment only stemmed from you and now you had to keep living together... While you deliberated, Abed rolled his shoulders and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. Then he rescued you with a much simpler question:

“Are you still hungry?”

“Oh, yes. Especially now.”

He looked over at you and after hesitating almost imperceptibly, he asked, “do you still want to have dinner with me?”

“I do. Dinner, drinks and a movie, if you’re up for it...” Abed smiled and you smiled back. The wet spot you were sitting in would require bleach. There was almost twenty dollars worth of food scattered across the floor. Most important of all, you were pretty sure you’d just seen a crack in his confidence - he was relieved that you’d said yes and this was still a date, a beginning. “Especially now.”

#abed nadir #abed nadir x reader #abed x reader #abed nadir imagine #abed nadir imagines #my fics #abed fucks #WHOOPS #nsft

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

#soft vore #mawedness combat #it took me long enough #but it’s finally done #i have so many ideas for fics based on drawings by a handful of artists #this one though…this one made me go for it and write it #congrats doodle #you and your art shot me with my own inspiration Gun #and I’ve just gotta say amazing work again #you were one of the main three/four who inspired me to write M4dc0m #anyway #I hope you enjoy the fic you caused :)

[http-mingi]

room 657. ⤑ jjk + kth ☏︎

⟶ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : you didn't even realise you were calling a hotline. you're best friend jimin gave you a random number. he said it was a surprise ? well you're in for one.

♡︎ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 : sexhotline!au, worker!taehyung, worker!jungkook, student!reader

♡︎ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 : ∝ filthy smut if you squint there’s fluff

♡︎ : 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : sorry i fr forgot to do the word count !!

⟶ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 : stressed reader, soft!dom jungkook, harddom!tae , big cock!tae, bigcock!jungkook, size kink??, sub!reader, pussy eating, dirty talk, face riding, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, praise kinda?? unprotected sex, roughsex, multiple orgasms, heavy heavy dom sub themes, brat!reader , dom/sub themes, pet names, daddy!kink, threesome, dirty talk, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, begging, humiliation, creampie, intense orgasms(?), multiple orgasms, cum eating, insecurities, derogatory language, sexual face-slapping, punishments, dumbification, overstimulation, basically pwp.

let's go!

you sighed heavily as your boots clicked along the laminated floor of your university.

today so far had been a hassle. traffic kept you 2 hours late from school you were earlier fired from your job. your ex boyfriend had recently been stalking you and to top it off there was no hot water this morning.

you were beyond stressed.

most of the time you could deal with it you had thousands of stress relieving techniques. but this time you were all types of frustrated, with school, your job, sexually, friendships, family. you sighed heavily as you dragged yourself inside your classroom.

the bright walls of your university aided in your pounding headache. the distinct smell of coffee and muffins flooded your nose as you blinked slowly.

the tall dark bookcases shielding you from the sunlight as you sluggishly made your way to your seat.

you slumped down on your chair as you massaged your temples in effort to calm your self down. your headache clouded your vision immensely you hastily downed your water and some paracetamol nursing your forehead throughout.

you hadn’t been out on a real date in months. it seemed like the universe didn’t want you on dates, you rarely ever found yourself being okay with that fact.

whilst in a trance your best friend jimin walked excitedly into the classroom.

he constantly and i mean constantly reminded you off the things you were missing out on but it wasn’t like you didn’t want to go out but the issue was you were way too busy.

being an english, law and history major meant that you were constantly studying literally.

you did love him though he always tried for you.

"_____ !! " your friend jimin called out to you. you grumbled in annoyance as you turned your neck towards him.

"what." you sighed out tiredly.

" what the- what's wrong with you ______ ?!" he exclaimed loudly.

" jimin... why are you so loud. " you whine loudly.

“ shut up ___ im literally your only friend.” he said nonchalantly.

“ stopppp!” you whined with a breathy giggle.

“ anyways what are you doing here you have biology?” you asked innocently wiping your exhausted eyes.

“ uhhh... well..”

“ spit it outtt.” you say , head tilting slightly.

" sorry _____ i just- i have a number to give you and i don't call it until you get home! trust me you'll thank me later!!”

0800-765-877

it looked like a legit number so you decided to trust him this one time.

"come on ____ class ended 20 minutes ago wake up." he whined loudly.

" what.....? " you yawned as you groggily wiped your eyes.

jimin let out an exasperated sigh as he dragged you out of class and to your apartment.

" i love you but sometimes i feel like stabbing you. " he says plainly.

" sorry chim, ive just been really stressed lately. i'll make it up to you i promise."

"you can make it up to me by calling that number, it'll solve all your problems i promise."

" jimin... did you connect me to a sugar daddy or something? " you asked as you flopped down onto your sofa

" something like that." he said grinning

" okay well you can go home now . " you muttered yawning

" promise me you'll call them? "

" okay, okay now you can go. "

as jimin left you groaned into your pillow did you have to call them it wasn't really gonna change anything. but at the same time jimin would do the same for you.

your home was simple, minimalistic but you loved it your soft grey sofa in the corner. your small tv playing comfort noise in the background.

you fought your tiredness to finish your essay due for next week. you ached in places you didn't even know you had the most you were aching was down there.

you hadn't had any sexual action in weeks even months.

you decided to go up to your room to try and relive yourself.

you sighed as your hands hovered over the pulsating area.

as a finger trailed it's way up your slit you involuntarily whined as you got tired of the foreplay you plunged a finger inside your soppy cunt.

your plush walls also fighting to relish your much needed orgasm as you groaned into your pillow.

you moaned, whined, groaned and breathed heavily as you desperately tried to reach your high.

you angrily quickened your pace. you were trying so hard yet you still weren't feeling anything.

in a huff you decided to stop trying to reach your endless high.

in the corner of your eye you saw the number jimin had left you.

it wouldn't hurt to call right?

it wasn't gonna be anything weird..... right ?

you took a small breathe as your fingered trembled attempting to type in the numbers.

1 ring

2 rings

3 rings

......

" h-hello? " you whispered out meekly

" hey honey, why don't you speak up for us?" the man on the other end spoke in a deep voice

" im sorry i- i don't know what this- is r-really for?" you spoke slightly louder as you stumbled over your words

"it's a sexhotline darling? "

" i- i well oh...” you huffed out , eyes widening softly you were lost in a trance of thought.

you were suddenly put on hold.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you gave yourself time to think.

it wouldn’t hurt right?

you were basically an adult, you felt like a teenage girl again.

so you decided.

Putting a client on hold was a part of their fun. It allows the person to wait and to draw out the anticipation. however in this case you were just confused.

you’ve been pacing back and forth inside your bedroom for minutes it was half eleven in the night , and you certainly didn’t think that your attention would be on this instead of your essay.

suddenly you heard another 'hello' erupt from the phone quickly you grabbed your device breathing heavily you gulped and mustered up your voice.

" h- hi i just want you to know that y-you can carry on I've been- struggling and i- need some just some help?" you say whispering the last part.

" you want us to help you cum bun? " another voice said this time it was lighter, kinder in a way.

“don’t make us talk to ourselves, darling.” the other man snarls.

a gasp emits from your dry lips when the tone of his voice turns firm. there was a strict, domineering tinge in his speech that made you sit still. you were too shocked to reply as your mind tried to comprehend the situation that you got yourself into.

“I-I…” you stuttered completely, wanting to smack yourself in the face. the pet names, their voices it was all over whelming you too much.

you let out a needy whine, both of the men groaned quietly into the phone.

" how old are you baby ? " baby. they called you baby.

" i-im 19? "

" fuck, will you be okay with this?" they ask to make sure

jungkook can’t help the soft growl escape his lips. It has been so rare for him to receive callers who aren’t twenty-five and above, and you might be his first time.

“Ohh, baby girl,” he bites his lip, “I think you’re the first client I’ve had who’s so young.” jungkook says to you

“ is that okay , i-im sorry- "

“Oh, its more than okay , baby. You still wanna continue? I can make you feel so…” he pauses, groaning quietly to himself, “so good.”

your pussy clenches around nothing as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second

"  yes daddy. " you say nodding to yourself. you suddenly froze as you realised the contents of your words

taehyung's eyes widen in shock, his mouth agape, certainly not expecting that sudden word to come out of your lips. He throws his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he feels his dick harden.

It was so difficult for him to hold himself back because all he wanted to do was to say the dirtiest, nastiest things that he wants to do to you in your ear. but he had to slow down.

“daddy? Oh, what makes you call me that, hm? baby?”

you feel your throat go dry, your eyes wide in shock. You didn’t know what to respond without being so shocked with yourself.

" i-i just really need you please please please i need it. " you let it all out, you couldn't be bothered to hide it anymore.

“don’t be a brat kitten.“ taehyung snarled into the phone.

“ b-but daddy! please i- i need it so so bad it’s not fair!“ you whined softly as your fingers ghosted your aching, soppy cunt.

they both groaned loudly, as jungkook conversed with taehyung

" kook, fuck i need to do her in real life she's making this so hard for me."

" same here let's just go for it here she's going to make me cum in my pants." he sighed as he palmed himself to your weak whimpers.

" darling, me and tae were wondering if you wanted to do this in real life- we'd fuck you so good honey, you'd become our little cum dump id love to see your body tremble to the force of my cock. " taehyung said interrupting jungkook.

" yes.. please you said as you moaned quietly to their words

" okay bun, we'll text you where to meet us." jungkook breathed out.

the atmosphere was dripping with heavy lust your eyes shut right as you relished their deep gutural voices.

“ i can’t cum daddy please help me cum pleas-“ you begged in frustration

“oh honey, it’s okay sh- sh it’s ok ill help you just be patient okay? you can do that for me right?” jungkook said in a calm tone

" what's your name by the way."

" it's ____." you say meekly

" ____ edge yourself, fuck yourself just do not cum. "

and with that in the call ended

you sighed loudly grinning slightly, you were gonna get your brains done out by two sexy sounding men.

you smiled to yourself giddily as you finally got some sleep.

________________

the next morning you got up and did your daily routine entirely different you waxed everywhere, shaved, exfoliated, moisturised, basically every strawberry flavoured you had in your bathroom.

it was a Saturday, you had time to spare you texted jimin to meet him before you went to meet 'kook' and the other guy.

not to mention you were frustrated beyond belief you had done what they asked you to do and you half hate half love them for it.

on one hand you could cum from any suggestive touch you were given.

on the other hand you couldn't help but want to thank them you felt so ready for them.

you walked to the cafe.

the soft brown walls encompanied the mahogany floors and the cascade of plants across the room as you happily walked into the bustling cafe.

" what's got you so excited." he said grinning like the Cheshire cat

" uh nothing i just had some good sleep last night. " a lie.

" oh really? "

" yeah i even finished my essay!" not true but not false at the same time.

" wow! " jimin looked at you shocked

" jimin do you really have that little faith in me. " you say annoyed

" to be honest no. " he said chuckling

" jiminnn, well i have to be going now i have an appointment soon. " you explain pouting

" an appointment where? "

" somewhere special ? " you say in attempt to hide

" if you say so. " he uttered playfully and he watches you walk away

you stared at the building in front of you as you checked the address again and again it was a massive condo.

you rang the bell of the apartment square and dialled in the number seconds later you were buzzed in.

you took the elevator and anxiously played with your fingers you finally reached the floor you were headed to and walked into room 657 .

" h-hello i-im here it's ______ " you say confused you really made a large mistake.

suddenly turning around, you were pulled into a sloppy kiss. You immediately relaxed into it, wrapping your arms around his neck the deeper it went. Before it could go on too long, he pulled away.

Pressed between both of their bodies, you could help the way your body reacted. Your lips met Taehyung's again and you whimpered.

Jungkook took the opportunity to press his lips against your neck, skimming them over the collar now around your neck.

He hands gripped your waist, pulling your shirt up ever so slightly to touch the skin that became exposed.

Goosebumps across your skin and you gasped into Taehyung's mouth. The elder chuckled, reaching down to where Jungkook's deft fingers explored to tug up the hem of your shirt.

you gasped loudly as you tensed under their touch.

Already, you could feel your mind turning fuzzy, falling into your submissive roll to let them mold you how they wanted.

Jungkook chuckled as you lifted your arms, allowing Taehyung to pull your shirt off. Left in your bra, you couldn't help but cover your chest as vulnerability set in.

"None of that, bun," Jungkook growled softly, ripping your arms away from your chest. "You wanna be a good girl for us right? Let us take care of you?"

"Y-Yes..." You whined, whining when Taehyung leaned down pressing kisses against your chest above the seam of your bra. Gasping, you pushed your chest out to get more of the feeling.

"What a good girl," Taehyung cooed, falling to his knees in front of you.

You leaned back, using Jungkook as support to help Taehyung pull your jeans off completely. He tossed them away in a heap nearby and without wasting a second, his mouth was on your core.

The fabric of your panties put on the side, feeling his mouth on you fully but as he slid his tongue over your slit and caught your clit, you let out a soft moan.

"What a good kitten for us," Jungkook groaned, hands still cupping your breasts. He pinched your nipples, making your back arch as you cried out.

“Is that pretty pussy wet, Princess? Does your cunt ache to be filled by my cock?” jungkook coaxes

The filth of his words doesn’t surprise you, Under his teasing words, you feel yourself grow wet, your lust-filled desire mingling with the humiliation that flutters through you.

"Aw, your pussy that sensitive, baby?" Taehyung cooed pressing his middle finger to glide directly over the patch where your clit was, making your hips curve inwards as the intensity was blare enough to startle you.

He chuckled deeply at that, kind of sounding like a purr and just when you didn't think he could fuck with your sanity anymore than he was already doing, he turned his head to the side and lapped his wet muscle along your jugular vein before enclosing his lips area the area for harsh suck.

you moaned loudly as you arched your back against jungkook. taehyung put one leg over his shoulder to go deeper.

"Daddy!" You cried as his tongue slid through your folds. He moaned at the unimpeded taste of your cunt. Circling your entrance, he eagerly tasted everything you had to offer.

" don't take it all tae, shit she looks hot." jungkook groaned into your neck, biting licking and sucking against your sweet spot.

you whined as you trembled against the two men. you felt hot.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, spasming when he gave you a slap against your sodden folds . " I—!"

" be careful girl." jungkook growled into your ear

you moaned apologies left right and centre as he continued to abuse your aching clit.

suddenly you were harshly pulled away from taehyung's hot wet muscle and pushed into the soft plush bed.

you whined in protest at your denied orgasm.

" now, you're going to choose. me or tae." jungkook questioned sadistically

" i...i can't choose that i okay um jungkook?" you said in a small voice.

" good decision honey, now lie back let me take care of you." he cooed kindly

taehyung scoffed as he sat back

you were more than happy like this, but when you shifted your hips to grind your centre against his, you both groaned open-mouthed into the kiss.

You could feel that he was already hard in his boxers. Knowing that his willing cock was so close to your needy core erased your mind of any thoughts that weren't of him.

When you dragged your clit against him again you keened, the pleasure incredible despite the barriers between you.

he felt so big as you continued your actions

suddenly you felt his large and literally massive cock push into your plush soppy cunt.

you moaned loudly as jungkook groaned.

taehyung smirked as he shook his head.

" get moving i wanna see her squirt."

jungkook rocked back and forth at a steady pace it was amazing don't get me wrong but you wanted more you needed more.

"more! more please harder jungkook please! " you begged.

" princess, don't beg for things you can't keep up with." he chuckled

there was an animalistic gaze in his eye as he started plunging into your pussy, taehyung mouth open jerking himself off at the sight, your open lie open as he ground his fat cock into you.

you felt hot and euphoric and couldn't help but let moans continuously fall out of your mouth.

suddenly you felt a harsh slap on your face. you felt tears well up in your eyes.

Without warning, his cock was rammed inside you. Raw and hard with the way your pussy was soaking wet from your denied orgasm , he began to relentlessly fuck into you.

tears began spilling out of your eyes continuously and your moans became pornographic.

as if he couldn't go any faster he began to drill inside you, your body shook in ecstasy as his fat cock was pistoned into you.

you felt your high approaching, you panicked and begged for them to let you come.

" please! please let me cum ! ill be good , ill be a good girl ! " you cried out towards them

jungkook craned himself to be face to face with you, as he stared at you with his dark and lustful. his wet lips capture yours into a sloppy kiss .

he forced your mouth open and let his tongue glide upon yours. he sucked on the wet muscle softly as you cried out.

everything felt so good, too good.

you came 3 times alone with jungkook and felt overstimulated beyond belief.

" now it's my turn . " taehyung dead panned

" w-what i can't take anymore ill just su- "

" i said. it's my turn. " he uttered in a harsh tone

you wailed in frustration as your body writhed in defeat .

" you're gonna take it . that's what you asked for . " he spat at you.

observing the way your eyes darken, turning neediness, and the way your chest heaves in short breaths, Taehyung’s jaw flexes.

He pressed the tip against your hole, seeing you tense up almost immediately. taehyung rubbed the end of his cock along your wet cunt before sinking himself into you.

" d-daddy ple- ! " you body spasmed against the head board as taehyung suddenly slammed his body into you continuously.

“ you’re such an eager little whore, aren’t you?” he purrs, condescension laced in his tone.

you tightly held onto the relentless man as you felt your high approaching once more.

taehyung’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted against your neck.

you felt your body swirl and turn around you and you finally came.

hours later

you groggily woke up as you felt your body give out into the bed.

“ hel- hello? ” you said wearily

“ hi princess.” taehyung smirked

“ round 5?” jungkook asked

you sighed as you submitted to them in their bed

here we go again.

5 missed calls from jimin

#jungkook #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #maknae line #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #networkbangtan #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bangtanarmynet #bangtan #bts network #bts au #smut #jungkook au #taehyung au

[omlwhatamidoinghere]

Mr. Moreno

Chapter 3: Off-Campus Housing

Summary: Marcus decides it's time for some new scenery during your tutoring session

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, teacher x f!student, daddy kink/age kink (all parties are above the age of 18)

Word Count: 3,347!

Check out my masterlist!

_________________

Life has been great!

You're getting good grades, your dad just got a promotion he's been waiting 4 years for, your psychology research was accepted to be part of the department's upcoming journal, and- most importantly- you're sleeping with your professor. Well...maybe "sleeping with" isn't the correct terminology.

The multiple rendez-vous with Mr. Moreno have consisted of him going down on you, you going down on him, your hands down each other's pants and pretty much everything except the main event. That's the one thing he won't do. Yes, you two have definitely had some fun times but he won't go past eating you out and you sucking his cock. Ever since his wife passed, he hasn't had the urge to be with another person in that way. The day he met you, things started to change.

=======

Marcus' daughter, Missy, even noticed he was acting weird that day and confronted him about it. Taking him by the hand to the living room, she sat him down on the couch, "Dad, who is she?" Immediately turning red, "W-what? Who- what are you...I don't...I'm...she's not- she's...why are you-"

"Dad" The pose she strikes radiates the sass that she definitely got from him.

A sigh passes through his lips, "She's...she's just someone I met at work-"

"Someone you LIKE!" Missy cuts him off. She has never seen her dad act this way. She's only heard the stories of how he acted around her mom before they started dating, he must really like this girl.

======

It's not that Marcus hasn't thought about having sex with you- he has and does often- the silver ring that remains on his finger, encompassing the relationship he once had, stirs up this feeling of guilt if he were to have sex with another woman. Even though he knows his late wife wants him to move on and be happy, Marcus still doesn't feel right doing so.

Thank the stars it's the end of the week! Between finishing your project for Mr. Moreno's class and conducting more research for the psychology department, you've been stressed out of your mind. Not only was this week busy, but you also have a test in one of your classes next week. At least today the university decided to give everyone a rest day and treat them to a three-day weekend, even though you're spending it by coming to campus to have Mr. Moreno look over your project. A pleased sigh leaves your lips as you enter the classroom, greeted by a grin from the leader of the Heroics, who is currently talking to one of his fellow teammates, Miracle Guy. He notices his loss of Marcus' attention, immediately realizing who you are, "Well hello there! I've heard so much about you!" If you weren't in the classroom right now, Marcus probably would have knocked him right in the chest. Instead, he turns his head slowly back towards Miracle Guy, his face plastered with a look that can only be taken as 'you need to shut up'.

Setting your bag down as your gaze meets the Heroic's, you're taken back by his last statement, "You...you have?"

"Yeah! Mr. Moreno talks about you all the time! He's always saying how his favorite student is extremely smart and well-rounded!"

Your heart pounds in your ears, hoping Miracle Guy sees past the shade of red currently radiating from your face. You glance over at Marcus and feel heat grow between your legs. If he could kill with a look, Miracle Guy would be dead on the floor right now. The intensity of his stare is enough to make you drop to your knees right there. Your gaze lingers a little too long when Marcus looks over to you and notices your lip between your teeth, his glare changes tones at the sight. The look that fills his wonderfully dark eyes, the same lust-filled look from when he peers up at you from between your legs, causes a flutter deep inside.

"Just fuck each other already!"

Both of you snap from your trance over to Miracle Guy, "What? It's so obvious you both want it! I figured with how much you talk about her, Marcus, that you were already fucking her but I-"

Marcus cuts him off, grabbing his arm and dragging him into his office as you follow with your bag. Shutting the door, Marcus pushes him down into a chair, "We HAVE done stuff." The look on Miracle Guy's face slips to a state of confusion, "But...wait....I thought you said....you told me you haven't..." a sigh passes through Marcus' lips, "We haven't had sex. But we've done other things." A blush dusts your cheeks, Miracle Guy slowly picking up on what Marcus means, "Oooohhhhhhhh....nice! See? Still know how to treat a woman even as an old man-"

"I'm not that old."

"And I really don't care about the age difference." You chime in. Both of them turn to you, "Plus, he's the only man I know that doesn't act like a twelve-year-old," you start to mumble, "Not to mention he's really sexy..."

"What was that?" Marcus leans towards you in hopes of you repeating what you just said. Miracle Guy starts to push, "Yeah I heard you say something but I couldn't tell what it was-"

"I said he's really sexy. Just because he's older doesn't mean he isn't sexy."

Marcus' face matches the embarrassed shade of your own, "You...you think I'm sexy?" Your eyes turn to meet his, "Well yeah! Have you seen yourself?" Miracle Guy remains with his jaw on the floor as the two men take in what you said. A few minutes pass before anyone says anything again, "I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice to finally meet you!" Miracle Guy reaches out to shake your hand. Reaching out to shake his, "A pleasure to meet you as well! Hopefully next time we run into each other it won't be as awkward. Thanks for not telling anyone." With a nod, he steps out of the office, leaving you and Marcus. His eyes lock on yours as he closes the distance between your bodies. Warm, strong hands gently caress your arms, his breath is hot against your ear, "So...you think I'm sexy?" His voice, deep and husky as he moves down to your neck. His teeth graze your skin, a gasp leaves your lips, "Marcus..." His name is a soft whisper filled with desperation. You move your hand up to his hair, your fingers running through each strand causing Marcus to release a low growl against your neck as he continues leaving marks. "Marcus, wait...I need you to....I came in to...-" his lips still on your neck, "Tell me baby." "Why is it so difficult to say something as easy as I came in to see if you could look at my paper?" This man has so much power over you and all he's done so far today is kiss your neck and whisper in your ear. Granted, you can't help but think of all the things he's done to you previously. Stars, you can't help but imagine how amazing he must be in bed...so strong...taking control of you...- see this? This is why he has so much power over you; you can't stop thinking of him. "Baby?" His glasses bump into your jaw as he pulls back to look at you, "What is it?"

"I came in to see if you...um...if you could look over my project?"

His look of realization as he fixes his glasses makes you giggle, "I completely forgot about that...I saw your email and everything and I was going to write you back but then Miracle Guy called and said he was coming in to visit and I got distracted but yes I would love to look over your project." Grabbing your paper out of your bag, still flustered from everything that just happened prior to this moment. Handing it to Marcus, you both take a seat at his desk. He reads over it, paying attention to every detail, biting his lip in concentration. "What the hell? Can you think about anything other than him bending you over his desk and- who are you kidding, of course you can't." He notices your gaze drifting off as he peeks up at you from your paper, "Sweetheart..." You don't hear him talking to you as your mind continues to wander, "...his hands on you...his lips on your body...with how he big he feels in your mouth imagine how he feels in your-" he tries to get your attention again, "Hello? Are you alright?" Still not hearing him, "...and his beard against your skin, especially on your neck and between your thighs..." You still don't notice him as he walks around his desk and leans back against it right in front of you, "Sweetheart, are you alright?" Finally, you come back to your senses. Feeling extremely embarrassed, your cheeks flush red, giving away exactly what was going on in your thoughts. A smirk decorates Marcus' face while he rolls up his sleeves, drawing your attention to his now exposed forearms. "What was going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?" Even though you two have done a lot together, you still avert your gaze from his, still too shy to admit the dirty thoughts you have of him...not to mention how often you think those thoughts. He gently grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. Pulling you closer, Marcus' lips barely graze against yours, his breath hot on your skin. His voice drops into a low gravely tone, "Tell Daddy what you were thinking about, all those dirty thoughts that I know run through your mind...be a good girl and tell me..." Your breath leaves your body in a soft moan. Trying to collect yourself, "I was...I-I was thinking of....umm...you...your...uh..I..."

"If you tell me, I just may do it..."

A gasp powers you to kind of form a sentence, "I w-was thinking about you...and what you do to me...and the all the things you could do to me...being underneath you...nearly breaking whatever you're pounding me into..." Marcus lets out a low moan as he pulls you in and kisses you, his tongue already finding its way past your lips. The sounds you make in response cause him to press against his pants. His hands find their way into your hair and on your lower back, pulling you closer. He continues to moan as you kiss, "Damn he's so hot when he moans. Oh my STARS I want to really hear him moan" He pulls back, his hands still on you, "Baby, we should go somewhere..." slightly confused on his comment, "What? Where would we..what do you mean?" His eyes grow dark with lust again, "Some place where we won't get caught when I make you scream my name so much you forget your own..." A whimper escapes your lips faster than you can process Marcus' words. "I'll take that as a yes. Where should we go sweetheart?" You pause a moment to consider, "Well, my apartment is two minutes away. I can send you my address and you can meet me over there." Giving you another kiss before pulling back again, "Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in a few." As you fix yourself up and start to walk away, Marcus quickly reaches out, giving you a quick smack, winking at you with a cheeky grin when you turn to look back at him.

You make it to your car and back to your apartment within a few minutes. Racing inside, you see that none of your roommates are home, remembering they left for the weekend. Quickly climbing the stairs up to your room, you change your bra and underwear to the set you just bought a few days ago, put some dirty clothes in the laundry basket and make sure everything is cleaned up, not forgetting to light a nice candle to set the mood a little more. A few minutes pass and you hear a car door as a text pops up on your screen

"Come open the door, baby ;)"

Trying not to fall down the stairs as you eagerly skip steps, you finally reach the door. Doing one last appearance check, you open the door. On the other side, Marcus leans with one arm against the door frame, closing the gap between your bodies as soon as the door closes behind him. His lips almost on yours, "Where's your room?" Grabbing onto his tie, you pull him in for a kiss, "Up the stairs, the door next to the bath-" before you could finish your sentence, Marcus had you up and over his shoulder, walking up the stairs. Reaching behind him, he waves his hand and locks the door. Once he reaches your room, he lays you down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing on top of you, that familiar look floods his deep eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, sweetheart." Giving him a smirk, "You have no idea how many times I've gotten myself off to the thought of you." His lips meet yours in a heated clash. Your arms find their way around his neck as his hands find the button to your jeans. Marcus pulls back to slip off your shirt before kissing down your body; on your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, down your chest, past your stomach. Carefully sliding your jeans off, he continues to kiss your body as it becomes exposed. Soft whimpers from you and groans from Marcus fill the room, his lips never leaving your skin. His teeth grab onto your thigh, forcing a loud moan to escape from your throat. Marcus peers up at you with that infamous look of his, "Ooo, baby likes that, doesn't she?" He bites down on you again, getting the same reaction as before, "You sound so pretty. So good for me." His words only turn you on more. "P-please....please....I..I-I need..." He moves back up to your face, "What is it sweetheart?" You moan breathily in his ear, "I need you. Please, Mr. Moreno..." The groan that comes from his lips makes you even hotter for him, your wetness growing rapidly. Even in class, when you call him "Mr. Moreno", your innocent voice masking your filthy intent, his zipper threatens to break from how hard his cock gets. Burying his face in your neck, Marcus' mustache scratching against your delicate skin, "Say it again," his voice dropping to a growl, "say my name again." His hips begin to create friction between your legs while he awaits your response. The things this man does to you, you feel as if you could get off just from him grinding into you as his voice resonates through your soul. Biting the bottom of your ear, he forces sounds to escape your lips but no words can form, "Come on, baby. Be a good girl for me"

"Mr. Moreno, pleeeaaassee"

His lips travel back down your body as he begins to pull you apart, thread by thread. Settling back between your thighs, his hot breath sends a shiver through you. His tongue licks through your folds, already drenched and melting in his touch. "Already so wet for me, baby" he slips two fingers inside you, "How often have you gotten yourself off to the thought of me, baby?" A moan brings an answer to your lips, "All the time...I think about you all the time....think about you touching me...your strong arms around my waist...your hands on me...you-your fingers...doing..."

"Doing this?"

A curve in his fingers guides you closer to the edge. His name escapes your mouth in a chant, the only word your mind can conjure. The sounds you sing only make his aching stronger and stronger until he snaps, "Baby, I need to be inside of you." Your head moves to meet his eyes as he carefully takes his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth. A groan rumbles through his chest as he cleans them off, keeoing eye contact the entire time. Biting your lip, you hold back a moan as you watch Marcus undress before you, taking in the jaw-dropping sight of his naked body. You sit up and crawl to meet him at the foot of the bed, your hands discovering his skin, your lips are soft against his tanned and toned chest. His hands gently push against your shoulders, "As nice as that feels, there's something tighter I wanna feel around me. Be a good girl and lay back for Daddy." The growl sounding like a command, you do as he tells you. Climbing on top of you, his hands land on either side of your head, dragging your focus up his flexed muscles and to his lustful eyes. You can see the hesitation behind his prowling gaze. Arms and legs wrapping around him, "It's alright, Marcus. I want you inside of me." Quickly wrapping himself with you still hanging on him, he lines his cock up with your dripping entrance, carefully pushing into you. Moans rip through your apartment as he takes it slow, easing you onto his size. "I'm gonna start moving, alright baby?" You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, "Okay. I'm ready."

Easing himself out of you so it's only the tip of his cock left inside, he pushes in slightly harder than before, still adjusting to you, "Ugh....your so tight baby...so tight for Daddy...so wet..." His lips entertain the delicate skin of your neck,your moans and whimpers echoing in his ears, flipping a switch that send his hips into a faster pace. The skin about his cock passes over your clit with every thrust, taking you higher and higher. Your eyes meet as he moves his head back, your lips grazing as you pant against each other. Marcus leans into you depper than before, his mouth meeting yours just in time to swallow the yelp that soars from you. His tongue dancing on your lips, begging for entrance. Parting them slightly, he groans at the feel of you. His kisses travel to your jaw before his lips guide his breath against your ear, "Good girl. Moan for me, baby. Your sound make me want to fuck you until you can only think of me...what I do to you...how much I stretch you..." His husky voice rattles you to the core, clenching tight around his cock. "I'm gonna...please let me come, sir." Marcus pulls back again to look into your eyes, "Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy. You're such a good girl for me." Your climax slams into you at his words just as he chases his release.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls you to his chest, "That...that was...I haven't done that in forever. Was it okay?" You turn your head up to look at him, "Okay? Marcus that was the best sex I've ever had! You really know how to treat a woman." You both chuckle, "Thank you, honey. That means a lot. But..um...what you said earlier about me to Miracle Guy..."

"Y-yes?"

"Is it true?"

"Marcus, I wouldn't lie about that. You're really fucking sexy."

"Honey you're too-"

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

Marcus' phone begins to ring. Reaching over carefully as not to disturb your comfortable position, he answers it. Still trying to catch his breath, "Hello?"

"Hey pal, it's Miracle Guy. Make sure you turn off your talk to text next time you and hot stuff get together"

Taglist: @no-droids @autumnleaves1991-blog @absurdthirst @velvetmel0n @wyn-n-tonic @leaderoftheheroics @finerthisboutique

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x f!reader #pedro pascal simp #pedro pascal #we can be heroes #marcus moreno fic #professor x student #mr. moreno series #marcus moreno smut

[happyandticklish]

Laughter Warms The Soul

Notes: I wrote this in an hour, what the fuck brain, where did these random ideas come from?? 

Summary: Whilst searching for amusement in the city, Izaya stumbles across the dynamic duo and finds himself witness to a sight he’d thought he’d never see. 

Izaya’s grin was wide with the expectation of entertainment as he weaved in-between the busy streets of Ikebukuro. He could tell it was going to be a good day. It was difficult to explain exactly where this premonition came from, only that he was certain of it.

Possibly it had something to do with Namie’s mysterious absence that morning, unexplained and prompt and full of a mystery to be explored later. Possibly it had to do with the sun, sparkling and bright despite the chilly autumn morning. Possibly it had something to do with the sudden sight of Shizuo, far down the street opposite Izaya. No matter what the reason, Izaya decided to take the good mood and roll with it, his legs already moving him across the street to confront the other.

He paused almost as suddenly as he had started, taking a step back onto the pavement as he noticed Tom by his side. The man had his arms wrapped around himself, shivering despite his coat. He was saying something to the other, and Izaya attempted to maneuver his way closer without giving away his position. He couldn’t say why he took the effort for the stealth; after all, it had originally been his mission to torment the beast in some way. It wasn’t often, however, that he got to see Shizuo from a casual stance, and he was curious what the man was like when he wasn’t raging at the info broker.

“…fucking cold,” Tom was saying, his voice twisting in irritation. “Why can’t it have just stayed summer through the rest of the year too?”

Besides him, Shizuo arched a brow in amused surprise. “I don’t think either of us would want to face the effects that would have on the world, what with global warming on the rise and all that.”

“Fuck global warming,” Tom muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And fuck cold ass mornings like this that we have to wake up for because some idiot decided he didn’t want to pay his dues.”

“Careful Tom,” Shizuo warned lightly. “I’m supposed to be the one with anger issues, remember?”

“Yes, of course I remember,” Tom snapped, seemingly not aware of the fact that he was taunting a lion. “How could I forget when it makes my workload ten times more difficult every time some hopeless bastard pisses you off.”

Hiding behind a group of tourists, Izaya winced in second-hand regret. Bad move, Tom. Didn’t he know who he was dealing with? Izaya had experienced entire vending machines thrown at him for far less than the direct insult. Sure enough, Shizuo turned to face the other, his arms already coming up to ready an attack. Izaya closed his eyes, biding Tom farewell in his mind as he did.

To his surprise, the next noise he heard was not that of pain or fear, but rather laughter, choked off giggles that cut through the morning breeze. Izaya frowned, eyes snapping open once more as he shot a quick glance in their direction.

Shizuo had snuck his hands under Tom’s coat, and was wiggling his fingers along his sides with devilish intent. Tom was half-doubled over, shoving weakly at Shizuo’s arms but doing little in the long run to dissuade him. Shizuo had a slight smirk on his face, the expression somehow both smug and affectionate at the same time.

Izaya’s eyes widened.

“S-Shihizuo!” Tom gasped, his lips tugging up into a reluctant grin. “Wahahait! T-Thihis ihisn’t fahahair!”

“It’s perfectly fair,” Shizuo argued pleasantly. “If you have a problem with the way I do things, there are other ways of telling me than snide remarks. This is simply your punishment—both for the insult and for the way you’ve been complaining all morning.”

Tom desperately shoved at his hands, trembling in one spot as he fought to hold himself upright. They had both stopped walking by now, and people merely curved around them, seemingly ignorant to the truth of the situation. Tom’s cheeks puffed out with held-in laughter, flushing a bright pink with the effort.

“You know, it’s strange,” Shizuo commented, his fingers crawling spiderlike onto his ribs. Tom squeaked, lurching forward, but the other’s hands held him back in a ticklish hug. “I’d almost forgotten how sensitive you were; it’s been a while since I last did this. I think we should make it more of a habit, don’t you?”

“Y-Yohohou’re dehehead!” Tom giggled, his internal battle to hold in his reactions ultimately failing. “S-Sohoho dehehehead!”

“Funny, because the way I see it, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Stahahahap!” Tom wheezed, squirming as much as he could in his grip. “Gohohoddammit, ihihit fuhuhuhucking tihihihickles!”

“Does it?” Shizuo grinned. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ohohoho fuhuhuhuck yohohou!”

Izaya was frozen. People shoved past him, but he could hardly find it in himself to care as shoulders and elbows jostled into him, his gaze focused so intently on the scene in front of him. Tickling. The monster of Ikebukuro, the brute who had tormented him for all these years, was currently tickling Tom Tanaka of all people, in the public view of anyone who happened to pass by. And Tom wasn’t running away, or shoving him off like most might expect. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself, his laughter mingling with the amused chuckles of Shizuo.

But what threw Izaya the most, above anything else, was the gentle way in which Shizuo did it. His posture was relaxed, not tense with annoyance or rage. His fingers climbed a gentle path up and down Tom’s sides, drawing only musical giggles from the other’s lips, instead of noises of panic or discomfort. Izaya waited for his ribcage to be crushed beneath Shizuo’s grip, for angered shouts to fall from his lips. Despite this, only that slight smile remained, and those devastatingly nimble fingers wreaking a path of soft destruction along his torso instead of the usual bloodshed.

So lost was he in his thoughts, that he found himself jumping at the sudden shriek. Shizuo had managed to worm his hands under Tom’s arms, and the man dropped, his knees giving out underneath him. Shizuo merely followed him to the ground, eagerly pursuing the apparent hot spot.

“Shihihihihizuo!” Tom cackled, squeezing his eyes shut as his arms clamped down quickly to his sides. “Plehehehehease!”

“I don’t know,” Shizuo mused, feigning hesitation. “I mean, how can I know for sure if you’ve learned your lesson?”

“Ihihihihihi hahahahave, Ihihihi hahahahahahave!” Tom insisted quickly, curling his knees up to his chest. “Juhuhuhuhust stahahahahahap!”

Shizuo sighed, relenting at last and releasing the other. “Alright. But only because we’re going to be late if we stay here any longer.”

Tom giggled in tired relief, burying his face in his hands. “You suck. You suck so much.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s get you up off the ground.”

Shizuo helped the other man to his feet, and Tom dusted the grime off his pants with a disdainful look. “That was entirely unnecessary, you know.”

“Your cheeks.”

“What?”

“They’re all red.” When Tom continued to stare at him in confusion, he clarified, “You were complaining about being cold. I bet that warmed you up.”

Tom started as he realized the other was right; all the laughing and squirming had sent blood rushing quickly to his limbs, heating up the chill that had seeped in. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the other’s accuracy, shoving past him with a huff. “Whatever. You’re such a nuisance sometimes, you know that?”

Shizuo laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets and following after him.

Izaya waited until they were gone to move from his position, his pulse racing. What was that? What the hell was that? And why was it making him feel so… Izaya wasn’t even sure what the specific emotion was. Irritation? Panic? Loneliness? Possibly the strangest one of them all was the vicious jealousy, tugging at his heart and making it clench up uncomfortably. Because maybe a part of him, however small, had wished that he could have been the one under Shizuo’s hands. Maybe he too wanted to be able to laugh like that, free and unworried, and have the brute look down at him with that unfairly kind smile of his.

Shoving the thoughts aside quickly, Izaya turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction, attempting to ignore the persistent flush to his cheeks.

After all, he could always find entertainment elsewhere.

#tickle fic #durarara #shizaya #tom tanaka #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #tickling #fanfic #fanfiction #durarara!! #drabble

[cruciology]

Familiar Need

Requested by anon: Could you do a Sandor x reader she's one of Baelish's girls and Sandy is a regular and he takes her with him after the Blackwater battle? Idk if that made sense?

You sunk the pitcher beneath the surface of the steaming water, filling it to the brim before pouring it over the Hound’s head. Setting the pitcher on the wooden table next to the tub, you grabbed the bar of soap. The Hound let you run your fingers through his hair as you straddled him, both of your naked bodies hidden under the water. His hands held your hips, absently feeling the curves of your body as you scrubbed dirt and sweat and, most likely, blood from his hair. 

You had many odd requests from customers in your time; bathing together was a perfectly normal one compared to others. But you had heard many things about the Hound. You had been afraid when he paid for your services that he would be one of the more difficult clients, someone who took pleasure in hurting you, seeing you bruised or beaten. So you had been surprised when he had asked you to bathe with him. It seemed so innocent. What followed after was nothing but, but every time was the same. Every time, he wanted the same thing. Every time, he asked for you by name. 

He took the soap from you, taking his turn to wash you with his large hands. His thumb traced your nipple, making you suck in a short breath. In your line of work, you didn’t meet a lot of people that could make you do that. That was something else that surprised you when the Hound had first come to you. You assumed he would be like any other client, tossing some coins at you and finishing as soon as they could get their cock into you. But the Hound liked to take his time. He liked to hear you moan his name, to feel you come undone around him. 

You toyed with the thick, dark hair that covered his chest as he ran his hands across your back. You leaned in, placing a kiss on his scarred cheek first, then his lips. 

“Almost didn’t think you were going to come see me tonight,” you said. You knew how you sounded. Needy. But you had come to look forward to the Hound’s visits. The first time he had chosen you, you had been frightened, but that was over a year ago. You knew him much better than that now. “You haven’t been here in days.”

“Been busy,” He said shortly. He tucked away a strand of your hair that had fallen loose from where you had tied it up. It was hard to believe that the hands that had taken the lives of so many men could be so gentle with you. The other women in the brothel were terrified of him. They didn’t understand how you could let him touch you, let alone how you could look forward to it. It wasn’t a secret that he was a killer and that he took pleasure in it, but that wasn’t the side he showed to you. You often found yourself aching for his touch. Like right then, when you sat on top of his thick cock, hard and waiting. You could easily adjust yourself and have him fill you, but you only had to wait a bit longer. 

“Been busy a lot since dear King Joffrey took the throne,” you said with no attempt to hide your disdain. 

“Keeping that little shit alive is a lot of work,” the Hound grumbled. He would never speak ill of his charge with anyone but you. He wasn’t stupid. 

“Is it true what they’re saying?” You asked. “About King Robert’s brother coming with an army?” 

“Do you really want to talk of battles and war?” The Hound asked, dropping the bar of soap into the empty pitcher on the table. 

“I don’t care much for war, no, but I do like to be informed,” You said. “It’s not a secret that Lord Stannis has no love for women in my profession.” 

“You do sound informed.” 

“If we manage to survive the attacks, I fear I don’t know what he’ll do with us afterwards, the godless whores.” It was a bit of a hot topic in the last few days. You had to assure the other girls that you were positive things would be alright despite having little optimism yourself. 

The Hound kissed your collar bone, then your throat, moving to your jaw, and finally kissing your lips. His hand caressed your cheek, his finger tips burying in your hair. He pulled your hair down, the ends of it grazing the water just slightly as it fell down around your shoulders. You traced your thumb along the burned side of his face as you kissed him back. He used to hate being touched there, thinking that it must disgust you like it did everyone else. Now, he enjoyed the feel of your soft hands against the ruined flesh. 

“Nothing will happen to you,” The Hound promised, his lips still on yours. 

“You can be so sure?” You asked. 

He stood up, holding you tightly against him with just one arm. Sometimes you thought he just liked to show off how strong he really was, but you didn’t really mind. You liked how easy it was for him to hold you. He stepped out of the brass tub, still dripping water. Taking you to the other side of the large room, he pressed you onto the fur blanket on the bed. In one quick thrust, he was fully inside of you. You never could quite get used to his size, it always made you gasp. Normally, he liked to take his time, exploring all of your body before entering you, but he seemed to know how badly you needed to feel him, all of him. 

“I’m sure,” He said, kissing you roughly. He took both your hands in his, drawing them up above your head and pinning them. His free hand slid down your body, following your curves to the point where your bodies met. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you arch into him, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Sandor,” You gasped out. His grip on your hands tightened and his speed quickened. Each thrust of his hips slammed into you, making you feel closer to the breaking point. He knew exactly how to make you come undone. The stars of light burst behind your eyelids, your chest heaving as you came. The Hound released his grip on your hands, holding himself up on his elbows as he pushed into you almost violently. 

You pushed him back, rolling him over onto his back and catching him by surprise. He held your hips to guide your rhythm. It was his favorite way to fuck you. He was so much larger than you, he worried you’d be crushed under his weight. With you on top of him, he could focus on how good your pussy felt. You liked being able to watch his face as you fucked him. You liked seeing his eyes squeeze shut as he felt you slide up and down his hard cock. You liked the feel of him digging his fingers into your ass. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips against him. 

“Fuck,” The Hound growled as you rode him. He squeezed tighter to you and you knew that meant he was close. He would pull out of you just in time to finish on your thigh with a grunt, but very suddenly, you didn’t want that. You moved your hands over his where they still held you. 

“Finish in me,” You said. You heard him curse again before you felt him shudder, filling you with his hot seed. 

His chest heaved as you got off of him. You rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the cool night air on your still slightly damp skin. You lay in silence for a long time, just listening to his breathing. 

“You’re that afraid that you’re going to die?” He asked finally. 

“I wanted to feel all of you,” You said. You could still feel him inside of you, not just the dull but pleasant ache he always left, but also the stickiness creeping down your thighs. “Don’t leave tonight.” 

“I can’t-,” 

“Sandor,” You said, lifting yourself onto your elbow. He studied your face as you looked down on him. “Please, stay.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, letting him pull the blanket over both of you. 

Stupid. You were bloody stupid. You should be down in the basement with the rest of the girls, but instead, you were up in the brothel alone. Even Littlefinger was nowhere to be found. If he could be counted on for anything, it would be saving his own skin. 

You were only out of hiding out of sickening curiosity. You heard rumors of wildfire. You figured you would be safe enough, with the battle being mostly on the shores. If you had just stayed inside, watching from the safety of your room, you would have been fine. It was when you decided to step outside of the brothel. 

You weren’t even ten steps away from the door when you were pulled so hard you feared your arm would pop out of its socket. You immediately shoved back, but when the dagger pressed to your throat, all attempts to fight back were quieted. 

You couldn’t tell where the man had come from, what side he was on. It didn’t really matter. Both had bad men and any man threatening you with a blade was bad in your book. You were sure you knew exactly what he wanted from you. A man coming to a whorehouse wanted one thing. 

“Let’s step inside,” He said, smiling with a rotten mouth, reeking of ale. His weapon was still pressed to your skin. If you so much as breathed too heavily, you would bleed. 

“Please,” You said. “Just lower your dagger.” 

“How do I know you won’t run?” The man asked, keeping his dagger exactly where it was.

“Where is there to run in all of this?” You asked him. As if to make your point, a flash of green fire burst to the chorus of screams. 

Looking satisfied with that answer, the man pulled his dagger away from you, his hand still tightly on your arm. But with a flash of silver, his grip went slack and he was suddenly relieved of his head. It was your turn to scream. 

But your terror only lasted a moment when you realized who the sword belonged to. 

“Sandor!” You cried in relief, throwing you arms around the Hound’s neck. He hugged you back, lifting you off the ground, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “Are you alright? Why are you here? You should be-,” 

“I know where I should be,” The Hound said, setting you back on your feet. “And it’s not in that fucking castle.” 

“Won’t you be in trouble for abandoning the king?” 

“I’ll be in more trouble for telling him to go fuck himself,” The Hound said. You let out a surprised laugh. “I’m leaving. Tonight. Right now.” 

“What?” You felt as if you had been slapped. “Where?”

“Don’t fucking know, but I’m going,” He said. He grabbed one of your hands with his, dwarfing it. You always felt so small next to him. Small, but safe. Always safe. “Come with me.”

You studied his face. He knew what he was asking. This wasn’t a fleeting feeling. You belonged to Littlefinger just as much as the Hound belonged to the King. You would be stealing yourself away, but it would be in good company. 

You squeezed his hand and nodded. 

#got #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #smut #sandor clegane smut #the hound #the hound got #the hound x reader insert #the hound x you #the hound smut #fanfiction #fanfiction requests

[unholyplumpprincess]

Won’t Say I’m In Love

A commission for Anonymous with a trans dude and Loba!

Summary: In which reader is Loba's sugar baby/friend with benefit who she loves to shower gifts upon. When reader starts expressing interest and complimenting her, realizing she gets flustered when the attention is turned to her, it makes courting her and making it. Obvious they'd like more a little more difficult. Nothing that can't be solved with a little bump n grind, right?...Right?

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog :D

Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Loba Andrade/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Loba is a trans woman and her bits are referred to as cock/dick, Reader is a trans man with top surgery and no bottom surgery and parts are referred to as cock/dick/hole, reader is penetrated, sugar mommy relationship BUT WITHOUT THE MOMMY INVOLVED, FWB to romance, talk of transitioning and the stuff that comes with it, Loba nuts in ya, aaaand fluff!

Words: 5.1k

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Loba, to you, was everything.

Perhaps that’s a bit of a stretch. But in times like this, you can’t imagine her out of your life. Not when her smile is etched into your memory, dimples on her cheeks and pearly whites reminding you of a wolf’s. Or how her eyes narrow dangerously when you tease her, a smile playing on her lips as she coos to you to hand over the last treat in the kitchen before you run squealing after you shove it in your mouth. Loba, hot on your heels.

Life with her came natural after being in each other’s good graces for so long.

Well.

If you called ‘fuck buddies where she buys you things all the time’ good graces. A certified sugar mama.

~Rest under the cut~

Your meeting had been a business strict one at first. She was the girl people went to when things were stolen from them or they had specific desires. In your case, a precious family heirloom had been stolen from you by Hammond. That family member that had been working on cracking a code to work into their system had mysteriously disappeared, leaving you with a precious family ring that you cherished. Yet, somehow, it had gone missing, the only lead being of a ripped jacket by the window with an H symbol on it.

Loba was a person you’d heard of who could get anything from anyone, and when you’d found her, given her all the details and your own sob story. She’d hummed, drawing her manicured fingers across your cheeks and cooed about how pretty a gem you were yourself. When your cheeks had flared red, she’d smirked, patted your cheek and told you that it would be done within the week. Since she was going that way anyway.

When you’d received an anonymous text fit with a wolf emoji, you’d hurried quickly over to the underground area where she’d resided. The neon red lights had looked beautiful on her, made her look dangerous in the alleyway where she’d sat upon a box as if it were a throne. You thanked her a million times over, offering money, even some other jewelry that you’d been given that you had no need for. Yet you knew it was expensive.  

Loba had refused, and instead had risen from her spot where she’d been sitting. Circling you like you were prey and making a mention about how she knew you were struggling to keep your apartment going, how it would be dangerous for you to go back. Not knowing how or why she brought it up, at first you bristled, holding the ring close to your chest in fear she would take it.

But, instead, she offers you her gloved hand, a smile on her face and a tilt to her head. “As I told you when you had arrived, you are a beautiful gem yourself. I could take care of you. Would you like to be the new addition to my collection?”

At first, you’d been flustered, a little shocked, and suspicious. But now? Now it all made sense.

Loba loved to shower you in gifts and compliments. She’d always called you the prized jewel of her collection. A collection that you’d seen and wandered through numerous times by now. Of golds, silvers, diamonds, arts, priceless artifacts, all the riches in the world for the woman who had everything. And she had almost everything. Including a found family.

With Loba, you, and Jaime? You were your own family. The trio out in the world with a home base and all the riches you could have ever wanted- thanks to Loba, that is. Not that it was hard for her, one of the best thieves in the world. Her jump bracelet made that much so easy. And she always loved to gift you things from her finding that she thought you would look pretty in.

Whatever you wanted.

The first time she’d offered you something, a beautiful pearl choker, you’d kind of laughed with a flushed face. No one had ever gifted you jewelry before, let alone been delighted TO give you it. But when you reached for it, she teased you, holding it just out of reach and said she’d like to put it on you. Resulting with her manicured fingers lightly brushing your skin as she stood in front of you, hitching it behind your neck with ease and gently curling a finger underneath the front.

She’d tugged you closer that day as your face burned, head tipped up to look at her. Loba had already been tall, but when she wore heels it was even worse with you. Yet, she’d grinned, tilted her head, eyes flickering down to your lips and murmured, “Do I get a little gift in return?” With such softness, eyes twinkling with mischief.

It wasn’t as if you two hadn’t been playing essentially gay chicken this entire time. You were obviously sexually into her, as she was to you. So, with your lips quivering, you’d nodded, murmuring back, “Anything you want.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart.” She’d cooed before pressing the softest kiss upon your lips and leaving you wanting more as she pulled back and gently patted your cheek.

And you were left to watch her saunter off, eyes falling to her ass without thinking about it and your fingers touching your lips where you felt the slickness of her gloss lingering.

From there, the teasing escalated. Until your relationship developed more into a ‘friends with benefits’ situation or even a ‘sugar mommy’ situation. Sans the calling her mommy part, wasn’t really your thing. She gave you gifts, showered you in them really, and in return you two had some killer sex. You figured it was a win all around for you.

When you got pretty things to adorn your body with, and you got to hold onto a headboard with your head thrown back as her mouth made quick work of you. Where was the loss in that scenario? Well, maybe the lipstick stains on your inner thighs or...or...

Or maybe you knew exactly what it was. Because after time went on, your sexual feelings finally revealed themselves to actually be disguised romantic feelings. Cracking open like pouring light whenever she walked into the room and you had to push them down and swallow your pride.

That’s where your loss was.

It had started pretty small a few months ago. You just started to notice different ways Loba dressed, or how she had her hair some days. Some days her makeup would change and you would compliment it genuinely, only to have her black lipstick covered lips playfully smirk your way and offer for you to try it out personally.

Hey, you weren’t complaining about walking around with a kiss print on your neck or cheek.

But you were mentally complaining about how fast your heart had beat at such a simple action. How you’d touched your cheek when she wasn’t looking and smiled to yourself like you were some sort of schoolboy incapable of reeling in your crush.

You mentally groaned to yourself. You were NOT about to ruin anything for her.

Loba, you thought, deserved love and happiness. You contemplated that maybe...just maybe you could be the one to give that to her. But, you knew her, you knew her very well for that matter. If affection was genuine, she’d become flustered and nervous and try to find a way to turn it sexual or into a flirt. She could flirt her way through anything, but if you so much as tucked her hair behind her ear and told her she looked pretty that day, she’d almost choke and try to turn the situation back.

You tried to give back what she gave you, trying to adore her, only to have her try and hide her flustered appearance by trying to flirt you up. Or slamming you against a wall and cooing about how you were pushing her buttons.

She was good at hiding her emotions in a way you wouldn’t expect her to. Instead of shying off or shutting down, Loba had learned to laugh her way out of situations and compliment you. Pinching your cheek and calling you sweet. The love- the romance she’d been deprived of didn’t go unknown to you. She didn’t trust easily, and she was happy with you and Jaime being her family.

At least, that’s as far as you knew.

What you didn’t know is that her feelings matched your own. That every extra glance you stole her way, she noticed and tried not to think anything of. But sometimes, sometimes when she was fucking you, she imagined you holding on tight to her and murmuring sweet nothings. Or instead of coming to her room for a ‘nightly visit’, that you’d spend the night and let her hold you quietly in her arms and wake up to see you just the same.

Mutual feelings that neither of you knew the other had.

Eventually you figured you needed to own up to it. And that’s what you were trying to plan right now. It’s with a breath that you come to the decision that maybe you could...show her instead.

Yeah, yeah that sounded better.

So, when Loba comes home tonight, smiling brightly as she swings a beautiful diamond necklace around a finger and announcing to you and Jaime, “Mama’s home, boys! Did you miss me?” With fondness in her voice and her eyes flicking over you to hint that she had a gift for you- that is when you decide now is a good time to strike.

After dinner is had and Loba has put her necklace in a beautiful glass case to admire it, you come towards her little den area. It was a big, rounded room, wall to wall full of her jewels and findings. Ranging from pearl necklaces to priceless artifacts. Beautiful art pieces were hung on the walls all around it with lights to ensure that the jewels down below would glitter and gleam in any lighting. You rest yourself on the doorway as you watch her, admiring her from afar as she looks to the sparkling necklace with glee in her eyes.

“Ah, so beautiful. Don’t you think?” Loba sighs at her necklace, before her eyes flick up to you in the doorway. Her eyes sparkle with that same look from earlier, mischief dancing in them as she saunters up to you slowly. As if a predator with its prey. You’d lie if you said your heart didn’t skip three beats.

“Yeah, I think you are, actually.” You coyly respond, going so far as to flutter your lashes as she rests an arm beside your head. Her grin is amused, rolling her eyes and using her free hand to gently grab your chin, tilting your head this way and that. Always inspecting you.

Her prized possession.

“Ha-ha, very cute. How many times have you tried that one, love?” She teases, tapping her manicured nail on your cheek twice. You smile fondly at the nickname, pretending it didn’t make you near about squirm out of your spot. But your heart lurches in your chest when she speaks much softer, tracing along your jawline with her fingertips. “I have a gift for you.”

“I was going to tell you the same thing.”

That piques Loba’s interest, her mischievous look pausing for surprise to overtake her features. Her glossy lips part in surprise, her eyes moving from the stare on your lips to flick up to your eyes as her brows furrow briefly.

She looked adorable.  

Fuck.

“A gift? For me? Isn’t that my job?” Loba laughs a bit, taking a step back and cocking her head, her long braids following. She looked just like a puppy. You swallow down your racing heartbeat as you try to figure out how to bring it up.

“Later- in the bedroom.” You promise. A familiar phrase that makes her pupils widen, a smirk falling to her face instead, a bit more confidence to her purr as she affectionately pinches your cheek.

“I eagerly await your acquaintance tonight, then. But, for now, let me show you the ring I found you, darling!”

You’re going to die.

--

The ring she’d found you had been gorgeous- she'd yet to gift you a ring yet. Loba once had said that seemed a little too intimate of a gift. You never asked why, but now that you’ve been gifted one, looking at the gold band with a beautiful simple style with three gems in each twirl of its vine-like look.

Well, you can’t help but think either she’s gotten used to you or maybe...maybe it had a purpose.  

Either way, it helps you feel more confident about what you’re going to try tonight. Walking with a bit more confidence as you head to her bedroom. You hardly have the time to knock before she’s opening the door, yanking you inside, and pushing you against the door to kiss you.

Loba is stripped down for the night. Her twin braids traded to let her curly hair down, the ombre look towards the tips of her bright red hair reaching about mid-back and splaying around her beautifully. Her outfit has been swapped to something a bit more practical of a black lacy bralette and stretchy short shorts, revealing her long legs and the beautiful vine-like tattoos with flowers curling on her outer thighs, edging up her hips to her waist.

Your hands come up, but are immediately caught by her. Her fingers lace in yours, pulling your hands to rest beside your head against the door as you moan into her mouth. Your reward is a soft laugh, her teeth nipping your bottom lip before trailing her glossy, full lips over your chin, down your jawline to your neck.

“Wait, wait-” You manage to breathe out when her lips press to the length of your neck. Immediately Loba pauses, releasing your hands and backing up. Concern and confusion in her eyes, but you quickly let out a laugh, “No, no, I mean- I want to try something different tonight...if that’s okay?”

“What like- bondage?”  

You about choke, head thunking back against the door as feeling your cheeks warm as you try to think of how to word it. It’s kinda of hard when she’s now idly kissing at your neck, lips parting to suckle on a sensitive spot of yours that makes your hips jerk. But you manage to breathe it out, “I want to take care of you tonight.”

Then it’s Loba’s turn to choke. Pulling back away from her spot to give you a curious look, if flustered. Her own face is red, looking apprehensive about the idea, but you quickly add in. “If you don’t like it, truly don’t like it, we’ll stop immediately, okay? I promise.”

And then you have her. Just with that extra security.

“You better make it worth my while.” She huffs almost in an embarrassed tone. But her voice is playful, despite the way you notice how she swallows and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. And you know it isn’t the fact she doesn’t want it, it’s because she’s used to being in control. And not that you don’t like her taking control of you but...

Sometimes you just wanted to treat her right. Show her how much she meant to you.

You suppose sex was better than trying to sit her down for a conversation and talk about your feelings with eye contact involved and your running mouth.

You start gentle with her, leading her to the bed and guiding her to lie down. You start with something simple as a makeout session. Straddling her hips so she can feel the heat of your body through your sweatpants and t-shirt. You lean into her, cupping her cheek and pushing her hair from her face as you kiss her so gently, stroking your thumb over her cheekbone. You make sure not to let her guide the kiss, but let her grab your hips, feeling her fingers slide under the waistband to touch your skin.

When you lick into Loba’s mouth, her breath hitches, her hips coming up to press against you and you follow the motion by pressing down to give her some pressure. Your own breath is shaky when her hands slide down to your ass under your pants, tugging you gently to get you to grind.

Control- normally you’d follow like the good boy she’d claimed you to be but...

You immediately part from the kiss, delighting quietly in how she whines. However, delighting even more when her eyes shoot open and she whines louder when you take her hands and pull them above her head. You interlock your fingers, hovering your lips just out of reach when she tries to lean up and get at you again, but realizing quickly that she can’t. Loba groans.

It’s quiet submission when her head rests back on the pillow, a shaky breath leaving her lips as her eyes fall to your mouth. She pouts her prettiest when you give her a look, huffing under you and rolling her eyes. “What? Do you want me to say ‘please’?”

“It’s a start to getting what you want, Ms. Andrade, don’t you think?” You tease in a mocking tone, causing her eyes to narrow up at you. There’s another huff from her, her fingers flexing in a nervous way in your grip. You wait patiently above her, eyes sparkling with mischief.  

“Pl-...” Loba pauses, swallowing before shakily exhaling through her nose. Her eyes flicker to the side as if flustered, rolling upwards as if trying to will herself to speak. You try to ignore the way you feel her cock jerk under your ass, but you can’t ignore the pride you feel knowing she liked this.

“Please, please do something more. Please don’t tease me? Aren’t I good to you, baby?” She begs her prettiest, ending it with a shaky noise, her cheeks flushed red and her lips pulling into a pretty pout that you can’t help but kiss to soothe away her embarrassment.

You murmur sweet nothings against her mouth that you hope she doesn’t catch as you kiss your way down her neck. You only need to scoot down her body a little, moving to fit between her legs rather than straddle her.

You let her hands go, watching with delight as they stay right where you put them as your own pull up her bralette to reveal her chest. She’s got nice breasts, rounded and about a C cup. You know from her talking about it that she’d gotten them filled in the past, all decorated with pretty silver barbells through each nipple and her underbreast tattoo curling between her chest.

You press your mouth at the freckles dotting the upper edges of her breasts, nosing your way down the path of her flesh until you can gingerly cup her breast. You relish the way her breath hitches in anticipation when you mouth at her nipple, pressing soft, fluttering, wet kisses until she whines softly under her breath.  

She really can’t blame you for drawing it out, right? For adoring every inch of her? You’d never been able to seen her like this before, how she squirms, trying to be good underneath you and not take over. It’s the best you could have asked of her. To try.

You smile against her skin before you take her nipple into your mouth and begin suckling. Letting your tongue flick back and forth over it to feel the shape of her barbell idly. Loba’s sounds are soft, gentle little sighs as her hips gently press up against you to get some pressure. You hum against her in reply when her hand rests in your hair, gently stroking and pressing to encourage you to touch her more.

A moan escapes her lips when you let your teeth gingerly scrape across the sensitive flesh, coming off of her with a wet pop. You nuzzle between her chest with a soft sigh of, “You’re so beautiful.” Your tone dripping with honesty as you kiss down her ribcage, towards her abdomen.

Normally she’s talkative during sessions like this, liking to pull your hair and show you who’s in charge. But now when you look up, all you can see is her head turned to the side, her cheeks red and her lips parted to shallowly breathe. You’ve never felt prouder of yourself.

When you reach the waistband of her short, you peer up at her under your lashes, gently tugging at the band. “Can I take these off?”

“Please.” She replies, completely unprompted with a shaky breath following and her eyes peering open to look down at you. Her gaze makes you feel hot, your chest bursting with adoration that you can only hope your eyes mimic.

You gently pull them off and toss them to the side. You move to sit up on your knees, gently rubbing at her thighs as your eyes flicker to her cock. She was about six inches long and uncut with foreskin only reaching just under the head. She’d shared with you that she was thankful that the future medical technology allowed her to decide the option on being able to get hard and remain fertile. Just as you’d shared you were thankful that getting top surgery had become less dangerous over so many years in the making.

Small things to share with her in those quiet moments you two could relate to each other.

Now, you run a hand along her inner thigh, sliding over her shaved mound as you quietly ask, “What are your feelings on penetrating me today?” To let her know in turn you wanted that. Of course, if she didn’t, you’d happily find your favorite cock and strap it in.

“Please,” She says again, practically music to your ears by now. “I want to be inside you- let me touch you, little pup, please? I’ll be on my best behavior.” Loba’s voice is near desperate as she looks down at you. Sitting up on her elbows to see you better. Your face flushes at the nickname, almost tempted to scold her for it, but the way she looks at you...

Her eyes are full of something you’ve seen before. Never taking the time to see. Adoration. Her pupils are blown wide, her lips parted and her eyes roaming across your frame before coming back to your eyes. Her brows furrow briefly, this desperate look crossing her face as she tries again, “Let me see your cock, baby, let me taste you?”  

It’s filth. Yet she sounds so fucking soft when she says it that you can’t help but swallow down a whine.

In a matter of moments, you’re stripping from your clothing. Your sweatpants get tossed with your shirt, but before you can get to your underwear Loba is already helping you out of it. Her fingers eagerly grab your hips, but she learns quickly because she doesn’t pull you. Letting you move your own body until your thighs can frame her face.

You reach down to pull on your mound, exposing your cock to her. You’re hard already, your hole drooling with slick from the excitement from seeing her so open earlier. Loba knows how you like it, hooking her arms around your thighs to hold you as her eyes go half lidded to watch your face. You swallow thickly, biting your bottom lip as her tongue runs from your hole, up to the underside of your dick in a fluid swipe.

Kitten licks like that repeat a few times, being mindful of how sensitive your engorged cock could be right off the bat. You shakily exhale through your nose when her lips part, letting the piercing on her tongue rest on the underside of your clit and her breath fanning across you hotly.

When she finally takes you into her mouth, you let out a moan and use your free hand to rest in her hair. The smile you feel against your wet flesh should make you flustered, but not as much as when she looks up at you under her lashes with such adoration. She lets you take the reins, gently humping against her mouth and taking things at your pace. It’s the most control you’ve had in a while, but your mouth starts working before you can even think, “Fuck- you’re so beautiful, babe.”

The blush that reddens her cheeks fuels both her own motions and your mouth as you moan low in your throat just to hear her moan low back at you in turn as she licks up your cock. “Good- good that feels s...so good-” You don’t expect her to react so well to your voice, let alone praise. But you feel her nails dig into your thighs, able to see the way she parts her lips, glossy now from your slick and seeing it stick to her tongue-

It’s too much.

There’s almost a rush as you squirm out of her grasp to move down to her lap to straddle her again. You’d tell her to finger you, but one look at her nails proves why that’s a hassle. Thankfully when you sink your own fingers into yourself, you find your walls are wet and pliant. But for good measure you still ask her for the lube to prep her own cock. Stroking her cock whilst you rest on her thighs, able to watch her eyes flutter and how her fingers twist into the pillow she’s got her head on.  

“Ready?” You ask, pulling yourself closer so you can slide your cock against hers, sandwiching it between your sex to grind back and forth against her. Loba quickly nods, her hands moving to grab your hips and squeezing eagerly, but you hum again. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby- yes, I want it, I want you, please!” Loba all but whines, her look frantic again as she gently pulls you. You follow the motion, lining her up before sliding down onto her with a gasp.

Loba’s reaction is immediate, always so sensitive when you envelop her. She’s got her nails pressing into your hips, her face contorted and her head tossed to the side with pure pleasure written across her features. It makes you feel proud that you could just do that with your body, that you’re the one making her look like that.

Your emotions are swelling up in your chest.

You push them down for the sake of resting your hands on top of hers on your body. Squeezing them and feeling your heart race when she maneuvers so her fingers can intertwine with yours. Your breath hitches, but that can easily be passed off for your hips grinding on their own, grinding your fat cock against her mound and feeling the way she shifts in you.

Her soft moan and the way her fingers squeeze yours make you dizzy.

Don’t think about it, you remind yourself.

Your breath quickens as you lean forward and begin riding her. Only pulling yourself up an inch or two and sliding yourself back down onto her cock. Your toes curl, squeezing her hands a bit tighter and about whining when she starts to pull her hands back. But you figure out why when she holds them up at about her waist level, lacing your fingers with hers to give you more leverage to fuck yourself onto her.

Don’t think about it, you again think to yourself, your brain clouded with lust and adoration.

“You’re so handsome,” Loba mumbles out, and when you finally urge yourself to flutter open your eyes, she’s looking at you. She’s panting softly, brows furrowed in a look of pleasure. You swallow the whimper in your throat so you can instead move yourself to almost lie on top of her. Letting her hands go to rest your arms on either side of her head and bringing her into a kiss.

Her hands slide over your body then, sliding down your sides to your hips, to your ass to graciously grab as you fuck yourself onto her. You moan into her mouth, feeling her follow the motion with her own soft noise in her throat.

Don’t think about it, you try so desperately to tell yourself as the knot forms in your stomach.

You have to break the kiss, tucking yourself into her neck. Loba is holding onto you now, her hands resting flat on your back and dragging her nails down your skin. You whine into her ear as your inner walls clench, your cock humping against her shaved mound and keeping your body extremely interested. It comes tumbling out before you can think of it, “Fuck- fuck, fuck, shit- Loba, Loba-”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it-

“I love you-” Loba whines in your ear, causing your heart to near about beat out of your chest thinking you’d imagined it. But you feel her lips move against your neck next time, “I love you. Let me- ah- let me cum inside you, baby, please, please, please-”

It’s all a blur. The way your chest pounds and how hard you cum. You can hear her cumming not soon after you, her nails sinking into your back and her teeth sinking into your shoulder to quiet down her beautiful moans. You think you’re dehydrated, your brain must have lost oxygen at some point- but you felt it. You heard it.

As you two are coming down, you urge yourself to sit up in her lap. Watching as her hand slides through her hair to push the strands from her face, how her chest rises and falls with her breaths, trying to make it out in your head as you open and close your mouth like a fish.

“What?” She laughs, reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “You weren’t going to say it, I figured--”  

“You knew?!” You cry out, flustered and feeling your own face heat up in embarrassment- yet relief floods your chest.

“I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?!” You cry out again, this time more distraught. But it quickly dies down when her thumb brushes along your cheek bone, urging you to lean into her touch and settle down. Though you see the look in her eyes of almost uncertainty- worry perhaps.  

With a shaky breath, you turn and kiss her palm. “I...I love you as well, ya know?”

“I know, baby.”

“Don’t be so smug about it!”

Her melodic laugh is quickly smothered by the pillow you throw in her face, only for you to nearly get knocked off her lap when she takes it and throws it right back at you with a victorious cry.

Fuck you love her.

#Loba #Loba Andrade #Loba x Reader #Apex legends #apex lemons #trans male reader #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

[jisungsjheekies]

Close Call

Part 1

Genre: Mafia, angst, fluff

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Swearing, attempted kidnapping, violence, blood, mention of a death

Requested: Yes

[Part 2]

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. We have to do this again soon!” your friend said, the two of you walking out of the restaurant and standing next to her car. She brought you into a hug, squeezing tightly before pulling you back at arms length. “I mean it,” she said sternly but with a playful glint still in her eye before she released her hold on you.

“Okay okay,” you laughed, “I’ll try not to be a hermit.” Your friend narrowed her eyes at you. Mocking her, you leaned your head forward, as if to challenge her. She laughed at your antics, shaking her head at you. 

“Good. I’ll see you around, please drive safely,” she said before getting inside her car. You gave her a small wave goodbye and watched her drive away. You really adored that girl and you wished you could see her more often but alas, you had a stringent job, one, that consumed most of your time. Anytime you were free, you usually chose to stay home and get some much needed rest but your friend was adamant about seeing you, and you were willing to spare one nap to reunite for a girls night. You were glad you’d gotten out for a few hours, not realizing just how much you needed this, the interaction being quite refreshing to your hectic life. You vowed to yourself to make sure you got together with your friend again as you watched her car disappear from your sight and made your way across the poorly lit parking lot to your own car. Reaching inside your bag, you grabbed your keys, pulling them out to unlock your car.

A little too rushed, they slipped from your fingers and fell onto the ground. Cursing yourself, you bent down, grasping them once more and made a second attempt to unlock your car. With more success this time around, your fingers locked around the door handle when your body was harshly pressed against the car. Whoever had hit you, was reaching to snatch the bag from your shoulder but your grip remained tightly on it as you turned to face them. Your eyes landed on a tall but slender man whose eyes were bloodshot and sunken in. You could smell the alcohol on him from miles away, the stench hitting you like a freight train. You wanted to scream, you tried, but the man threw his hand over your mouth, effectively blocking any sound you made as he pressed your back into the side of your car.

“Scream and you’re dead,” he sneered at you. Frozen in fear, you didn’t know what to do. He originally attacked you for your purse so you thrusted the object into his chest, watching him reach for something in his pocket out of the corner of your eye. Chuckling at you, he grabbed your purse and tossed it into the parking lot. “Change of plans sweetheart.”

In an instant, he used the raggedy shirt he’d pulled from his back pocket and attempted to tie it around your head to cover your mouth. You weren’t making it easy for him as you began to thrash in his hold, trying your best to escape from the man and search for safety. The man tightened his hold on your arms, his filthy nails digging deeply into your wrists as you whimpered in pain. Swinging his elbow around, he hit the side of your head, causing you to become disoriented, giving him the perfect opportunity to secure the fabric around your mouth. You were quickly coming back to your senses just as the man grabbed your body and tossed you over his shoulder, running off in the opposite direction of your car.

You tried to pull the shirt away from your mouth, only to realize he’d tied your hands behind your back. When had he done that? Screaming against the fabric, all sounds came out muffled as your attempts to call for help quickly faded away. What did he want with you? Where was he taking you to? Was he going to kill you? Or worse....? You shivered at the thought before writhing in his hold, your body falling from his shoulder when he tripped as you landed onto the cold, hard ground with a thud. The impact caused you to groan as the man cursed to himself. As best as you could, you lifted yourself from the ground, still bound, looking around at the unfamiliar settings. That was the least of your concerns, just wanting to be as far away from him as you could.

Picking up your feet, you scurried down the sidewalk as fast as your feet would allow, immediately taking notice of all the deserted businesses. Your heart dropped in your stomach as you realized that they’d all shut down for the night.

Shit.

You needed to find safety and you needed to find it quick, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you rounded the street corner. A small group of people stood a ways down the street, debating whether or not you wanted to call for them. After all, they could be more people you didn’t want to get involved with, but were you willing to risk that? At this point, what more did you have to lose? You opened your mouth as best as you could, the shirt still wrapped around your head, and screamed.

Except, no sound came out, the man seizing you from behind and throwing your body against a nearby wall, your head colliding with the brick. Your head felt faint but you were prepared to put up a fight. With the man’s hands wrapped tightly around your elbows, you made it as difficult for him as you could, planting your feet on the ground to anchor yourself and squirming against his hold.

“Fucking bitch,” the man spit at you, kicking you in your back to cease your movements. His attempt working in his favor as you arched your back from the pain, your squirming coming to a halt. Quickly, he heaved your body into the alleyway, next to where he’d thrown you, making sure you were out of the public eye. Panic settled in as you realized there was no chance of escaping him now. His body hovered over you, your back flush against the alley wall, your hands still bound behind you to prevent you from defending yourself.  You couldn’t decide between squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for it to be over or keeping your eyes open to watch the man in case you had an opportunity to run. If you made it out of this alive, there was no way in hell that you’d leave your home again, not for anything other than work.

Your blood ran cold the moment you saw him pull a knife from his holster, his hand moving up towards your face as he pressed the metal against your cheek. His eyes bored into yours, causing chills to run over your body as he gave you a sinister smile. Tears were now streaming persistently down your cheeks as sobs fought to slip past the fabric in your mouth. With your gaze locked on him, you didn’t realize a couple figures approaching the two of you until you watched the barrel of a gun press against the man’s temple. Your eyes flickered over to see a younger, dark haired man, his eyes focused on your attacker.

“Let. Her. Go,” the young man hissed, your attacker’s composure remaining stable under his threat. From the corner of your eye, you noticed four other figures approaching behind the man as your heart rate picked up its pace. Please just get me out of here, you thought to yourself as more tears flowed past your cheeks, soaking the fabric wrapped around your head. Your body felt hot as fire as your chest tightened in fear. Did these men just want you for themselves? Is that why they were helping you? You balled your hands into fists, your nails digging harshly into your palm, your breathing becoming unsteady. You were positive you could feel the blood drawing up and dripping past your fingers as you tried to remain calm, but the reality of the situation caused you to shake. The dark haired boy noticed your movements as he threatened your attacker once more.

“I said, let her the fuck go or I’ll shoot.”

This time, your attacker turned his head as he allowed the barrel of the gun to press against his forehead, a challenging smile on his face. “Then do it. I know who you are, I’m not afraid of you or them.” Wait, what? They knew each other? Your eyes widened when the man began to press the blade into your cheek, piercing the skin just enough to emit a whimper from you as blood dripped down your skin. The dark haired man’s jaw clenched in anger as he cocked the gun back, his index finger hovering over the trigger. The other men doing the same with their own guns, all pointed at your attacker. One wrong move and you could be killed.

Out of nowhere, your attacker tossed you away, your fragile body landing on the ground as he turned, knife in hand, aiming to stab the dark haired man in the shoulder. Your eyes squeezing shut the moment the sound of gunshots rang throughout the alley, your body going limp from all the times you’ve been tossed that night. The ringing in your ears only intensified as the alleyway grew silent for the first time since you’d been hauled in there.

A hand landed gently on your shoulder as your eyes shot open to look at whoever had approached you, your gaze landing on the dark haired man. You cowered away from him, wiggling out of his touch as sobs racked through your scared figure. His eyes softened at your reaction, withdrawing his hand.

“We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to help you. I promise,” the dark haired man spoke softly, hands held up in defense. The sound of his voice bringing a sense of calmness to your body as your shaking came to a halt. “I’m going to help you sit up then untie you, is that okay?” he asked, waiting for your consent. Slowly, you nodded as he came closer, not too fast to cause you anymore fear. His hands wrapped gently over your shoulders, lifting your body from the ground and sitting you on your bottom. The dark haired man moved behind your body as your eyes shifted between the other four men, who stood a respectable distance away. You felt the man’s fingers fumbling with the knot at the back of your head as the fabric drifted away from your mouth, falling into your lap. Your jaw aching incredibly as you stretched your mouth, an attempt to soothe the soreness. Seconds later, you felt the rope being cut away from your wrists as your arms fell to your sides. Lifting your hands in front of you, you took in the deep red marks that had been left into your skin, thanks to that damn rope. You carefully ran your fingers over the marks, no doubt they’d be bruised by tomorrow. You sighed before lifting your gaze, the dark haired man crouched before you.

“Thank you,” you croaked. Your throat sore from all your failed attempts of screaming. The dark haired man gestured to his friend to hand him something, the blonde one stepping forward to place a bottle in his hands. Reaching it out to you, you gave him a sceptical look, causing him to release a small laugh.

“It’s water, I promise,” he offered. You really didn’t want to take it, considering you had no idea who he was, but you were desperate for some kind of relief for your burning throat. Taking the bottle from his hands, you tipped the water back, thankful that he was telling the truth as the cool liquid soothed the burn. Handing him back the bottle, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Thank you…,” you started before trailing off, realizing you still didn’t know your saviors’ names.

“Chan,” The dark haired man finished for you, a smile gracing his features. “And that’s Jisung, Minho and Felix,” he said, pointing at the other men behind him, starting with the one who handed him the water. You gave each of them a thankful nod as they returned it. You turned back to Chan.

“How did you find me?” you asked curiously.

“We heard a shout from down the street and came running. That’s when we saw him press the knife against you,” Chan said, a disappointed look appearing on his face as his eyes landed on your injured cheek. “We need to get that cleaned before it gets infected.” Out of instinct, your hand reached up to your cheeks as you winced in pain. When you pulled your hand back, your eyes caught sight of the blood that coated your fingers.

“We have a medic back at our place. If you’ll let us, we’d like to get you cleaned up and checked out to make sure you’re okay,” Chan mentioned as your eyes flickered back up to him.

“Medic?” you asked, confusion etched across your face. Chan shared a look with the other boys, biting his lip as he contemplated something. Who were these people? you wondered. Their names were oddly familiar but why?

Then it started to click.

“Chan,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything but you still caught the attention of the dark haired man. “Wait, you’re… you guys are--”

“Stray Kids. Yep, that’s us,” Chan sighed. So that’s why they seemed so familiar. Everyone knew about the town’s most famous gang but you’d never put a face to the names. “I understand if you want—“

“Actually, I’d really appreciate your help,” you gave him a half smile. Yes, these guys were associated with violence but you’d heard about certain cases of them doing some good. If you were going to be involved with anyone, you’d prefer for it to be them. From your experience so far, they seemed to genuinely want to help you. You’d much rather have them help you versus calling your friend and being forced to explain the events of that night. In all honesty, the Chan guy was extremely cute and you wanted to stay on his good side, considering he did just save your ass.

“Can you stand?” Chan asked, lifting himself from the ground before offering you a hand. Gingerly, you placed your hand in his palm as you stood, but your legs immediately gave out, exhausted from all the running you did in an attempt to escape, sending you back towards the ground. Chan acted quick, wrapping his arms around your waist to catch you before you hit the ground. While his attempt to stop your fall worked, his arms had brushed against your back, causing you to wince in pain. As carefully as he could, Chan made sure you were able to stand, his hands under your elbows for support before he looked over you.

“Can I look at your back for a second?” Chan asked, worry evident in his eyes. Slowly, you nodded, allowing Chan to move behind you as his hands gripped the bottom of your blouse, moving it up just enough to examine the large bruise that spread over the center of your back. Chan’s fingers ghosted ever so lightly over the bruise, another whimper falling from your lips.

“He kicked me,” you told Chan, shuttering from the memory. Chan dropped your blouse before returning to stand in front of you, a sad smile on his face.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry,” Chan said before he realized something, internally facepalming at his stupidity. “I never got your name,” Chan said, somewhat embarrassed that he’d forgotten to ask before. You released a light laugh, the tense atmosphere lifting just enough to bring a smile to everyone’s face at the sound.

“It’s Y/N,” you told them.

“Y/N? I like that, it’s beautiful,” Chan said, offering you his hand once more. “C’mon, let’s go get you fixed up.”

Your cheeks tinted light pink at his compliment as you allowed him to lead you out of the alley and down the street towards their black SUV, parked at the end of the street. Chan opened the door to the backseat, allowing for you to hop inside. Sitting comfortably in the seat, you quickly turned to Chan in a panic.

“Wait! My car!” you announced, eyes wide with realization.

“Where is it? We can go get it and Felix can drive it to our place,” Chan said.

“It’s parked at Kim’s Tavern.” Chan nodded his head, knowing where you were talking about. You sighed before saying, “but I dropped the keys and my bag when he attacked me.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll look around. I’m sure we’ll find them,” Chan reassured you with a warm smile, one you couldn’t help but mirror.

Chan handed the keys to Minho before climbing into the backseat with you, the rest of the guys following suit. Minho started the car, driving in the direction of the restaurant.

Once they’d arrived, you pointed Minho in the direction of where you’d parked, spotting your car as Minho pulled up behind it. Felix hopped out of the SUV, along with Chan, as the two of them searched the area for your lost items. After a few minutes of waiting, your door opened, revealing Chan, your bag in one hand and your keys in the other. You released a sigh of relief before taking the bag from him. Chan handed your keys to Felix before shutting your door and walking around to his side, climbing in next to you. Minho started driving out of the parking lot with Felix in tow.

The car ride back to their place was silent, but comfortable. Chan looked over at your figure ever so often, making sure you were okay, while you stared out the window, watching the outside world become a blur. Growing tired, you closed your eyes, leaning your head against the window.

It was only when you felt the SUV come to a halt that you reopened your eyes, taking in your surroundings. They’d parked inside some garage, assuming you’d arrived at their place. All the guys crawled out of the vehicle as Chan came over to your side, helping you out carefully. You followed alongside Chan as he led you through a door, walking straight into their living room. Immediately, you were greeted with several new faces staring back at you, surprise evident on their faces.

“Seungmin,” Chan called out. You watched as one of the guys stood from the couch and came closer. “This is Y/N, do you think you can examine her for me?” Seungmin nodded, giving you a warm smile before ushering you and Chan to follow him. Chan placed a hand on your back, careful to avoid your bruise, encouraging you to follow after the other. Slowly, you walked further through their home as you entered the room you saw Seungmin disappear into.

You noticed the cabinets lining along the walls, medical equipment stored inside. A large table sat along the far side of the room, Chan leading you over and helping you sit on top before moving to the side. Seungmin approached you, an antiseptic wipe in his hand.

“I need to clean the wound on your cheek then we’ll bandage it, okay?” Seungmin said, watching as you nodded. You reached your hand out for Chan, seeking comfort as the sting from the alcohol caused you to wince. Chan laced his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb along the backside of your hand while Seungmin finished cleaning the cut on your cheek. Throwing away the soiled wipes, Seungmin returned with ointment and a bandage, carefully placing them on your cheek before stepping back.

“There’s a bruise on her back too,” Chan informed Seungmin, who caught your gaze.

“You’re going to need to remove your shirt so I can take care of it properly,” Seungmin said cautiously. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable but he wanted to give you the proper care, considering his leader seemed adamant on helping you. For a moment, you hesitated before eventually nodding your head, embarrassment visible on your face as you looked at Chan.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Chan said, you giving him an appreciative smile as he exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Chan made his way back out to the living room, the rest of the group sitting on the couches. Everyone’s attention landing on their leader as they heard his footsteps approaching.

“I can explain,” Chan started, the guys cocking their brows at him. “We’d just finished the meeting when we heard yelling from down the street. The guys and I went running towards it and found a guy holding a knife up at Y/N. The guy had her tied up and a shirt was wrapped around her mouth, so we did what we could to help her,” Chan told the others.

“What about the guy?” Hyunjin asked. Chan sighed.

“He lunged for me after tossing Y/N to the ground, Jisung killed him before he could hurt me. Felix and Jisung took care of the body while I tended to Y/N.” Before they could question anymore, Seungmin came out of the room, his eyes landing on Chan.

“She’s all done now, you can go back in there,” Seungmin said. Chan immediately stood and headed towards the medic room, but Seungmin held his hand out to stop him for just a moment. “Be gentle with her, there’s far more bruises than just the one on her back. She’s going to be sore for several days but the medicine I gave her should help.” Chan nodded before walking back to the room, finding you in the same position he’d left you. Your head shot up at the sound of him entering as a relieved smile crossed your face.

“Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you said, sincerity clear in your voice.

“It was nothing, really. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Chan admitted, moving to stand in front of you.

“I know I’ve been a handful tonight. I should get going,” you said before sliding off the table. The movements caused you to wince from the pain as Chan reached out to steady you.

“Stay. We have an extra bed,” Chan offered but you shook your head, refusing the offer.

“I don’t want to impose--”

“You won’t, I promise, Just, stay one night, please? I’d feel a lot better knowing you were safe here than trying to drive back home. Your body needs to rest,” Chan practically begged you. On the other hand, he knew that wasn’t the only reason he wanted you to stay, but he wouldn’t admit that.

“Are you sure?” you asked Chan hesitantly, to which he nodded immediately. “Okay, I’ll stay.” A smile graced Chan’s features as he held out his hand to you for the millionth time that night.

“I’ll show you your room,” Chan said before leading you out of the room and down the hall to where you’d be staying for the night. Leading you inside, he gestured for you to sit on the bed.

“I’m gonna go get you some clothes to sleep in, okay?” Chan said, watching as you nodded in response before he left to retrieve a shirt and pair of shorts for you, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible. Returning to your room, he noticed you staring at the marks on your wrists, a frown on your face.

“Here you go,” Chan said, interrupting your thoughts and handing you the clothing. “I’ll step outside while you change.” Doing as he said, he shut your door, giving you some privacy. After a couple minutes, you called out for him as he opened your door again, his eyes landing on you, dressed in his clothes with your hair tied back out of your face. You looked absolutely adorable.

Your cheeks blushed a deep red as you muttered a ‘thanks’. Chan’s eyes went wide as he realized he’d said that outloud, mentally cursing himself. You crawled under the covers of the bed, getting comfortable while Chan sat on the edge.

“Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. My room is right across the hall,” Chan said softly.

You smiled, reaching your hand out and placing it on top of his before saying, “I won’t, thank you again, Chan.” Pulling your hand back from his, you tucked it under your chin as you snuggled further into the pillows. Chan smiled at the sight.

“I’ll go get you some water,” he said before standing from the bed and walking out of the room, towards the kitchen. A few of the guys were standing around, talking to one another when Chan entered.

“Is she okay?” Jisung asked Chan. He nodded, reaching into the cupboard for a glass.

“Yeah, she just needs to rest,” Chan replied, filling the glass with water before exiting the kitchen and returning to your room.

“Here you g--” Chan quickly shut his mouth as his eyes landed on your sleeping form. He couldn’t imagine how exhausted you were after everything that had happened. He was just glad to see you resting. As carefully as he could, he tiptoed into the room and placed the glass of water on the bedside table before quietly backing out into the hall. Glancing over at you one last time, he turned off the lights and shut your door, cursing when it squeaked ever so slightly. With you tucked away safely, Chan released a sigh as he thought to himself, “At least you were safe now.”

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