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#my arm wasn't even that sore!
sixft0ver · 7 months
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I woke up in the morning with a sore body and I legitimately cannot move a muscle.
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afieldinengland · 7 months
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#thinking again about the violence with which i starved myself two winters ago. wondering if i'd even have the werewithal now#remembering being sat in my 4pm-6pm seminar having eaten nothing but a mint all day. remembering when my flatmate gave me a chocolate#and i couldn't eat it because it was before midnight so i put it in the fridge. remembering the time i hadn't eaten all day and when i had#glass of wine my lips turned blue. remembering when i drank a bottle of wine on an empty stomach and threw up bile for so long and so hard#that it was bloody. and so on and so on. but how i worshipped!!#when i wasn't working i was walking and when i wasn't doing that i was drinking. or crying. or sleeping#but the ferocity of it. the purity if you like. i wasn't counting calories or anything it was pure denial#not even fasting. just hurting myself. but it felt good. can i say that? i know people think that's ugly to say but it felt good. i miss it#it would have killed me etc but i was proving something. i don't even think i was hungry#didn't weigh myself either. appropriately old testament#and the old winter god was at the heart of it. 7am shaking outside the chemistry building hopped up on red bull and nothing else#nobody gets it of course. i've found that out#dreams about arms covered in sores. grey misty november outside#eighteen in a new city first year of university with a vodka habit smoking other people's cigarettes. i must have been a picture#maybe i can go back. but i don't actually have qualms about eating now that's the problem#if it's just on/off can you even switch it off? no. i think you need to be terrified#i realise now it was kind of nascent masochism. one night i drank my own nosebleed#yes i think i adjusted well. please take gap years
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lemememeringue · 2 years
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girl help I'm experiencing symptoms
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navybrat817 · 2 months
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Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
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We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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inkskinned · 9 months
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck#good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen#im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3#writeblr#the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this''#and like also#''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist#i was <3 punctured <3 during mine#and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion''#so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3#she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh#ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance#i'd crash on the table#like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it#and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop!#and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just#woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes#she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room#from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing#and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying#and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap#with this terrible memory#i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like#that was too many liters#and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home#i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after#that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty#you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it#while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED#and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.
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imsilay · 7 months
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MANIA
obsessive love; very possessive and often jealous.
mdni NSFW! +18 cw: possessiveness, size k!nk, fem!reader, obsessive König, dominant König.
summary: König doesn’t wants you to leave him, even for a second. he finds excuses and makes it your problem so he could fuck you until you’re too sore to leave again.
i will post part 2 <3 (english isn’t my first language sorry for the mistakes) edit: posted! here
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art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader
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He doesn’t like when you try to leave him…
After a long night, you were exhausted, your body sore from head to toe. You tried to sit up and leave the bed, but suddenly König's arm snaked around your waist and held you down. "Where do you think you're going, Prinzessin?" he whispered. "I need to shower." you mumbled as you put your hands on his forearms and tried to push him away, but it was a pathetic attempt. You were so powerless compared to him.
“So klein~” he cooed.
He chuckled at your struggles. "I don't think so, Schatz. You're staying here, in my bed, where you belong…" he purred, kissing the back of your neck and pulling you even closer, pressing your back against his chest. "König, stop the nonsense. Let go of me, i really need to shower." you protested— you wish you didn’t. His arms tightened around your midsection, reminding you that he could snap your spine effortlessly. "Are you talking back, Prinzessin? Did you forget you’re mine?" he whispered, his tone now edged with discontent. His grip was far from loving anymore. “Do i need to remind you?” he hissed, he would fuck you dumb until you understand that you’re his. His to use for his own satisfaction, his to kiss whenever he decided to do, his to touch wherever he wants. You were simply his.
When you realized you were in trouble, chills ran down your spine. You quickly apologized. "No, I was just... I don't like being sweaty. I'm sorry." Your apology made him loosen his grip a little. He placed a tender kiss on your neck. He turned you around as if you weighed nothing and pressed you against his chest.
“Hmm... let's see," his voice teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard and had you straddle him. He lowered his hands from your waist to your thighs and gently caressed them. You let out a groan of relief and wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the sensation of your lover's massage on your sore muscles. However, your relief was short-lived because he wasn't finished with you yet. "You tried to escape my bed. So you need to be punished, Hase." He squeezed your thighs until the pain in your sore muscles became almost unbearable.
You cried and whined but he shushed you softly, soothing you. “We’re not done, Liebling.” It was clear that his tone had changed again. The anger and firmness had given way to something more gentle, almost loving.
You slurred something for forgiveness and apologize nonstop. “Don't be sorry, Hase. I didn't like seeing you try to escape from me." he said with a hint of a pout. "But I think i can make a exception for you this time. What about you let me…" his rough hands slowly caressed your inner thighs making you shiver and gasp in anticipation. “use you as i please, then maybe i could let you rest.” he murmured as his hand found its way to your already wet panties. Your breath hitched and you squirmed on his lap as he teased your cunt through your panties until you’re soaked for him.
“You’re so easy to seduce, Schatz.” he chuckled lightly but his voice stained with pure lust. He lifted your chin up with his free hand to take a look at your lovely face. Your eyes red, your skin flush from all the crying and stimulation. It was all for him… right?
“Immer so empfindlich, wenn ich so mit dir spiele.” (Always so sensitive when I play with you like this.) he mumbled in German like he always did. You never understand what he said -mind foggy with lust and too focused to chase that sweet release.
He grinned with a proud expression and mumbled to himself. “Braves Mädchen.” he whispered before lifting his balaclava up just enough to capture your lips in a long passionate kiss.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked it <3
a/n: also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
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ssahotchnerr · 6 months
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no but imagine pre-relationship aaron with fem!reader who can fall asleep anywhere & in the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind 💀 aaron is both terrified and amazed bcs how do you keep doing that 😧 but then every time he sees you like that he slowly & carefully arranges you in a more comfortable position 🥹🫶🏻 & the team gives him shit for it 💀
(luvie can I be 🪷 anon 🥹🫶🏻)
makeshift
omg stop i love that cw; fem!reader, bau family banter, pining aaron <333
falling asleep in a federal prison, may seem like a hard thing to do. surrounded by the worst of the worst, distant yells from the inmates floating down the hall, the mere location itself. but apparently, not for you.
the facility was currently on lockdown, meaning no one was going in or out, and therefore you were stuck overnight. as a result, the warden offered one of the locker rooms to be strictly the bau's 'break room', so to speak.
after his last, rather unpleasant interview of the evening, aaron was hellbent on a fresh, but not very good, cup of coffee. as he pushed the door open and entered, his focus diverted straight to you.
you were laid across a steel bench - eyes closed, hands clasped over your stomach, absolutely gone to the world. however, if you moved an inch - or probably less - would you completely topple onto the hard floor.
"you're kidding." aaron deadpanned as he looked at you in pure astonishment, coffee long forgotten.
"she's been like that for thirty minutes now." jj commented from where she was leant against one of the sets of lockers, head bent down as she scrolled through her phone. "but are we surprised?"
"nah," derek snorted lightly. "but hey, better than the floor."
"tell me about it." a low grumble came from reid, somewhere.
aaron's face pulled into one of discomfort, his brows drawing into a line above his eyes. the surface you were asleep on, had to be cold, for starters, by nature of the material and the a/c was still kicking in high gear despite the cooler temperature outside. the flat metal had to be highly uncomfortable, no cushion underneath you at all, most likely digging into your shoulder blades. you'd inevitably be waking up to an angry back, which aaron knew from experience - from past events where you miraculously drifted off in questionable positions.
eager to lessen the outcome, aaron shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. he balled it up, situating it snug under his arm.
next, he crouched beside you, cradling your head in his hand as he lifted it gently. at the movement, you stirred, a small noise escaping you and aaron froze, waiting for you to settle back down before resuming his actions. part of him feared his current, drumming heart would somehow rouse you more.
but once you had, he slid his jacket underneath your head - a makeshift pillow. it wasn't much, but it would at least alleviate some of the pressure collecting in your neck, and you wouldn't be as sore when you awoke. the next thing he had to figure out, something to lay on the ground, on either side of you, to soften the fall in case you were to-
"that's real cute hotch." derek grinned, grabbing aaron from his thoughts. "when you make up my bed next, can you add one of those pillow chocolates? thanks."
"funny."
aaron stole a glance at you, a calmness brushing over him and the ends of his lips daring to tug upwards into a smile. he couldn't help himself - sure, he wished you weren't fast asleep on a bench that could cause potential harm if you budged, but it didn't hide the fact that you were, well, you.
his hopeful, hidden attempt didn't go unnoticed by one person though, who naturally had to open their big mouth.
"that's nothing compared to that case in montana," aaron shot dave a pointed look to quit it, but only got a wink in return. "hotch practically carried-"
"dave."
"aaron." dave quipped back, an eyebrow quirked high in amusement, but fell silent. although, his witty expression didn't falter, as if he were noting to aaron that it wouldn't be difficult at all to be persuaded to continue.
"whoa whoa there, rossi," morgan straightened his posture, a hand out. "go on."
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amisunderstoodgoddess · 2 months
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Hunt - final
(part one here)
Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?
Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)
Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.
I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
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A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.
You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.
It's then that the memories come rushing back.
Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.
How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?
When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.
------
The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.
You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.
It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.
The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.
Nothing is familiar.
You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.
The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?
Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.
Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.
He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.
“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.
The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.
You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.
He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.
You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?
He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.
The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.
The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"
Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.
“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"
The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”
He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.
"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.
He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.
"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.
"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.
The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.
"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."
You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.
“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."
The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.
You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”
“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"
You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.
Even if you have difficulty accepting it.
Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.
“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.
“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”
He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.
“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."
Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."
That word, again.
Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.
Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.
You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.
A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.
“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."
You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.
“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."
As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.
His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.
And it makes the heat spread between your legs.
There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.
That purr again.
A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.
As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.
The invisible thread of a scent.
The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.
It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.
Suddenly you can't speak.
The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.
“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.
You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.
The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.
What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.
You're not squirming to get away.
The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.
You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.
He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.
You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.
In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.
Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.
Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-
Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.
You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.
What is this, anyway?
You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.
It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.
You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.
He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.
Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.
Two things become clear to you then:
1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.
2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.
His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.
But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.
The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.
It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.
The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.
His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.
It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.
It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.
“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.
Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.
A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.
He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.
His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.
“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".
A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.
He looks between your legs. Really look.
Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.
Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.
You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.
His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.
Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.
The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.
The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.
The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.
“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”
His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.
"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.
You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.
"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.
A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.
You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.
He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.
Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.
It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.
Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.
You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.
He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.
"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.
Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.
...
That's it.
There is no slow entry or split stretch.
He just pushes and goes in.
You scream.
It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.
Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.
Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.
The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.
"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.
And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.
“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”
“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.
Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”
God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.
“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.
“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.
There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.
Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.
“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.
The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.
"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.
He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful - it makes you feel like a little Eskimo inside an igloo. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.
His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.
"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.
"What--"
"Say my name."
Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.
"D-Doh'kein."
He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.
Only then does he say. "Beg."
His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.
“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.
He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.
He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.
He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.
You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.
“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”
“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.
You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.
Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.
You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.
Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.
You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”
This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.
You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.
“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.
He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.
He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.
You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.
You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.
You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.
Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.
"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.
The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.
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killuintense · 3 months
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leon taking care of you while you are ovulating!
it really was a whirlwind of emotions to be on your period, but most of all you suffered even more during the period when you were ovulating and seemed to be completely unhinged with Leon. sometimes you wondered why the poor guy hadn't ended up running away from you the instant that time of the month came when you saw him as a giant stuffed animal to keep your hands on whenever you could.
it was strange and annoying, but all too satisfying at the same time. on the one hand, ovulating you noticed those mood swings, going from happiness to absolute sadness or anger that made you want to crush your own bones. but your cute boyfriend was always there to make up for it, telling you it was okay if you inadvertently got too angry with him or crying for some stupid reason; he never blamed you.
nor did he blame you when you seemed to want to have your hands all over him all the time. but you were horny all the fucking time, and when he was at work you would fantasize about having him touch you at every turn, and when he was with you your hands would become a whirlwind on top of his body "what's going on, love?" he looked confused as you tried to lift his shirt and touch his pecs, pouting as you noticed he was ticklish and gently lowered your hands.
"let me touch you!" your whimsical voice caused him to giggle more, he knew you were like this because you were close to your period, and he always gave you what you wanted because he was weak to you. and it wasn't that it always ended in something properly sexual, sometimes they would just spend whole minutes kissing and he would let you caress his body, squeezing his arms, stroking his hair. It all seemed to make you feel full and satisfied.
that is until your period was near and your tits started to swell and get tender. it was the most painful moment but, as contradictory as it sounded, it was when both of you fucked the most. you were so sore, even before you bled, that the only thing that soothed you was your man's cock. even his hands, without going any further.
you asked him with that puppy face to help soothe the pain in your breasts. your nipples looked like they were about to explode and he loved the sensation of feeling them get so hard the instant he ran his fingertips over them "so cute..." if his fingers weren't enough, he used his mouth to suck on the sensitive skin to make you tremble under him. those massages he gave you, even if there was a connotation of arousal, soothed you too much. his voice resonated with love and care "i have to learn to take care of them from now on, don't i, sweetheart?" he would kiss the skin gently, in that just right spot he knew so it wouldn't hurt but would cause you a 'something' "when you are with your tummy swollen from my baby and your tits full of milk, i have to take care of you so they don't hurt" and there you felt it was the death of you.
you seemed to have everything you needed, because it wasn't really the desire of both of you to be parents —because you were still very young—, but your desires for Leon to impregnate you and leave his mark inside you at that time of the month were too overwhelming. you whimpered when he said those kinds of things to you, when his hands kneaded your swollen, sensitive skin. you were so bad, so needy and ruined that that alone was enough to make you cum... yes, just that.
he laughed softly, as without having to bury himself between your legs you were already completely wet and, much to his dismay, exhausted from an instant orgasm that only left you half asleep in his arms with the pain in your breasts calmer and your mind full of images of you holding the future love fruit of you and Leon in your arms. you seemed drugged by that sensation, almost without being aware before you fell asleep in a tranquility where you knew that even on the most sensitive days you would have your boyfriend to please you in whatever way you wanted.
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amaranthineghost · 4 months
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Hi there! Can you do a pov/one shot/ fanfic where Lando is dating Y/N and her love language is biting. She randomly and softly bots Lando but he enjoys it knowing that she is fully comfortable with him to be herself. One day Max,Pietra and some other friends of Lando come to visit them in Monaco and Pietra is annoyed with Max for teasingly refusing to sit next to Y/N, P telling him that he can sit next to Y/n cause she doesn’t bite. Lando starts laughing and says that y/n does bite and moves his shirt to show a small bite mark on his shoulder. Y/N laughs it off but she gets insecure thinking that her love language is bothering Lando so she fights the urge to bite him again. After a few days Lando notices that she doesn’t bite him anymore and starts thinking that he did something to upset her. He asks her why and she eventually tells him and he gets a bit upset. He tells her that he actually likes it because its her way of showing her love and the fact that she is comfortable around him.
Idk some fluff or something
Thank you for at least reading this and I really love your work🧡
|  SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME, MY DEAR ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader
ꕥ summary: reader's love language is biting, but experiences a feeling of insecurity
ꕥ author note: oh to have a boyfriend to experience this with. fair warning, I refrain from using y/n in imagines unless it's really unavoidable because at this point y/n is a whole person by herself. if something is worded weirded, or 'she' and 'her' get repetitive, that's why. but anyways, I really like this request, its so cute and silly and i hope i did it justice :3
HIS BODY WAS OFTEN ADORNED with bite marks, indentions in his skin where you could see the canines had dipped it lower than the rest. it was a reminder to him of her love.
and he happily carried them everywhere with him, smiling to himself with every glance in the mirror at his bare torso. some faded more than others as they trailed along his arms, upwards to his shoulder and across to his collarbone.
the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed over them, a small smile spreading across his face, something he'd done everyday as the new blemishes came and went.
at first, he'd thought of it as strange, taken off guard by the sudden pinch on his bicep as she'd sink her teeth into his flesh. not so hard to break skin, she wasn't a vampire. but it was enough for him to be reminded of it.
as time went on and the occurrences became more frequent, he'd find himself smiling at it. it was his way of knowing she loved him, that she was comfortable around him, that she was safe with him, she always was and she knew that. at least he hoped she did.
to be loved was to be bitten, was what he knew. she had taught him that.
he had noticed a change though, it was hard not to. the sudden pinces throughout the day, he hadn't noticed weren't there because he had gotten used to them being there. if that made sense. it did to him.
but if he didn't notice the lack of sudden but light pain, followed with a trail of thin salvia leading to the culprits lips, he would notice the lack of marks that riddled his body.
lando had woken up that morning, groggy and his body sore from yesterday's training. the warm of his shared bed beckoned him to stay. to lay with her forever.
he wished he could, but he knew better than to lay around, even if it was with his girlfriend. though he might. was there ever any harm to remain within the comfort and grasp of the warm body that stayed passed out next to him, oblivious to his waking?
he always thought not. his trainer thought otherwise but turned a blind eye for the young couple. though their sickeningly love for the other made him roll his eyes behind their backs. all fun and games. something to laugh about.
his veined hands, warm and adorned with rings, traced across the low of her back. he watched the goosebumps take their place on her skin, her face stirring as she pushed herself further into the bed. he chuckled softly at her reaction, his thumb gliding across her exposed skin, dipping below the hem of the cloth on her body.
he lightly squeezed the flesh under his fingertips, pulling his hand across her back before replacing the covers on her. he slipped out of bed, leaning over momentarily.
his fingers slipped through her hair, getting caught in the knots that tied in the midst of her slumber. using his thumb, he brushed the strands from her face to see half her features smushed against the plush pillow.
another low chuckle escaped his throat, tucking the hair behind her ear as he pulled back and stared at the beauty before him. his eyes dilated the more he looked at her, but he wouldn't know.
his journey through the bathroom to get ready would be halted when he noticed a difference on his bare skin. but it wasn't bare because of the lack of shirt he found himself not to be wearing. what was different?
the pads of his fingers traced his skin for the indentions he cherished deeply, only met with the perfect evenness of his tan skin.
his actions haltered and brows furrowed. instinctively, he leaned closer to the mirror, the veins in his hands becoming more prominent as he pulled his skin. he turned in circles.
no blemishes in sight. not the work of his beloved girlfriend anyways.
he frowned, disappointed by the disruption of his routine. his ritual.
he swore to her many times that he could probably differentiate the marks of her teeth in his flesh to any other bite mark he'd come across. he knew her teeth better than his own. he swore he did.
he knew the indentions that littered his skin, but they weren't here. he wanted them to be so bad. why the change?
his heart sunk in his chest. he sighed. how could he not notice?
his eyes met his own gaze in the mirror, his fingers still tracing his bare collarbone and down his shoulder. he pursed his lips, eating away at the pink flesh until it irritated.
his hands fell down to the sink, supporting his body weight as he leaned on them as he pondered.
he surely noticed how faded they looked. how the red inflammation, that manifested on his skin, just didn't. but the change never processed in his brain.
he racked through the events of the past couple of days. nothing stood out.
they'd mostly stayed home together, other than the times lando went out for training. but it surely wasn't that, as she had no problem with it in the past. she understood what he did and the requirements of it that he had to meet.
lando groaned in realization. days earlier, lando and his girlfriend were out on the water with a few of their friends, drivers and their girlfriends.
it was a beautiful day, he had remembered because of the way the sun reflected off her skin, how her pupils shrank at the blinding light, but revealed the capsulating colors behind them.
he sat on the cushioned seats of the yacht, next to her with his warm hand on her inner thigh, a drink in the other. the rest of the group littered around the deck with various drinks in hand as they chatted.
most of them were just hanging out in their swimsuits as none of them had yet decided to take the plunge into the crystal waters.
they had sat next to each other for a while, lando leaning closer to hear her voice, the music was loud. her lips grazed his ear a few times, he remembered. the gloss on her lips left on his skin.
she remembered the scratch of his cheek as he'd forgotten to shave earlier whenever he'd lean into whisper in her ear. his lips ghostly hovered her neck, grazing her skin softly. despite the warm sun, goosebumps took their place down her neck.
he always chuckled at the rising bumps on her skin whenever he did something she liked. it always gave him a surge of confidence to know the effect he had against her.
"get a room!" the brit called out, laughing as he walked over with a drink in hand. his girlfriend followed behind, shaking her head at his words, but a smile evident on her face.
max fewtrell was one of lando's long time friends. their girlfriends also happened to be friends, long before the two guys came into their lives.
"mind if we sit?" pietra asked, not waiting for an answer as she took a place on the leather couch. leaving a space between the two girls so max could sit too.
she looked up to see max still standing, she rolled her eyes and patted the spot next to her, "there's enough room for all of us, why won't you sit?"
max shrugged his shoulder, "I don't know, mate, she might bite me if I try sitting down!" he exclaimed jokingly, inciting a laugh between the group.
she felt her body heat up uncomfortably, laughing along despite her discomfort.
pietra tugged on his sleeve, "she doesn't bite, you're being dramatic." her attempts were futile.
lando laughed and shook his head, "I don't know, mate, you might want to be careful." his hand left her thigh as he pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder, as he hadn't taken off his shirt just yet.
she felt her face flush and reddened, but hid it by laughing with the group, pushing her head into the crevice of his neck momentarily. his hand found her back again.
she felt the cushion next to her dip, followed by a hand squeezing her knee. she turned her head. pietra gave her a sympathetic look when she'd realized the girl's reaction.
pietra leaned close to her ear, like what lando and her were doing earlier. she whispered a few words to her before pulling away and taking a sip of her drink, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. she felt herself smile and relaxed in her seat.
but on the inside, she was eating herself up, overthinking to exhaustion. her stomach felt sick, was her habit a bother to him?
she found herself hiding in the bathroom throughout the rest of the hangout, claiming seasickness but denying medicine for it.
each time she find hersef back in the bathroom with anxious nausea and the door locked, lando would be on the other side. he'd knock on her door, talking her through it, asking her if he could get her anything, telling her he'd wait for her to come out again.
days past and she refrained from sinking her teeth into the perfect skin of his bicep, the valley of his collarbone, or the broadness before the drop of his shoulder.
each time she found herself with the urge to show the love she had through her teeth, she stopped herself.
it killed lando to think about how he could've made her feel. but he needed her to come to him, he didn't want to pry information out of her.
he could ask but he couldn't make her tell.
the door to the bathroom creaked open, lando's head snapping towards the noise, noticing the tired face eyeing him through the slit in the door.
he pushed himself from the counter, his heart beating slightly faster as he sighed. she opened the door more and dragged her feet against the tiled floor. he noticed the way her eyes squinted against the light.
she stopped when she collided against him. her cheek pushed against his chest as she leaned her weight against him.
he pulled her closer when he placed a hand on her head, another one around the low of her back. his lips were against her hair and he inhaled slowly. the faded tropical scent of her shampoo lingered in her hair.
in his head, he debated asking her. not only was she still tired, but he didn't want to push her farther, in case he had done something.
his heart beat heavily in his chest, muttering against her scalp, "what's going on, darling?" he caressed the strands of her hair, "hm?"
her heart skipped a beat, she thought he hadn't noticed, or that he didn't say anything because he had secretly hoped for this to happen.
she decided to play dumb, speaking softly against his bare skin, "what do you mean?" her voice muffled.
"come on, I know your biting habits. what's wrong?" he spoke patiently to her as he cradled her tired body in his arms, swaying softly as they stood admist the cold bathroom air.
her eyes fluttered shut as she mumbled, "I thought it annoyed you."
his head shook against hers, "why do you think that, love?" he held his breath for the answer, but in his heart, he knew what she was going to say.
he was met with silence for a long time, he knew she was thinking it over in her head. she finally spoke, "remember the yacht trip a few days ago?"
he exhaled deeply, his eyes clenching shut as he pursed his lips, "i'm an idiot," he muttered, pulling away partially.
" 's okay," she shrugged, looking up at him with big eyes.
he swore in his mind, if it weren't for the circumstances, he would've folded. he slowly blinked, his tongue gliding along his lower lip.
"it's not, darling. even if max and i were just messing around," he breathed in and out slowly, his hand caressing her pillow-marked face, "i'm sorry you felt that way, okay? you know, i love when you do it," he reassured, and he saw her eyes dilate when he did.
"really? but why?" she questioned him, scanning his face, eyes, body language for any hint of deceit. she found none.
"it tells me you're comfortable, baby, and that's all I want for you."
she listened for his tone. it was sincere.
and they stayed like that for a while. in each other's embrace, they knew all was well again as they talked through it some more.
"ow."
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anantaru · 6 months
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DAY 8 — DOGGY STYLE / ASS LOVERS
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — diluc, albedo, cyno, scaramouche
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, they need to touch your ass!!! they’re obsessed, doggy & prone bone, they are all ass men <3 it‘s confirmed trust me i‘m hoyo
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𖧡 — DILUC
the lucid sense of domination you could feel whenever you're slotted underneath diluc's body was always there and on plain sight— with your ass being forthrightly presented to him, just the way he liked it.
for clarification, it wasn't a secret to you anymore that he was obsessed with your ass and touching it for that matter, whilst watching you perk your behind up for him, waiting on all fours— it's mouth watering to say the least and the vermillion haired man plants his hands against the fat of your ass immediately, hissing in deep puffs when he first presses the tip of his cock against your warm pussy, your body relaxing, aflame under his scorching trace.
"diluc.." you whine out, your face burning as you're being pushed around back and forth the bed— he's already so warm inside of you, and this position just made him feel even hotter whilst rubbing his shaft against your sore walls.
"you're— you're so good to me.."
at your luscious choice of wording, with your helpless utters being high on his blows and needy for more, the force of his hips suddenly picks up as diluc continues to listen to how you're saying his name, or well, moan it for him to eagerly listen to— frankly, it makes his cock even harder when you're vocal, his dick jutting all up inside, causing you to feel full.
he gasps, noticing the skin on your hole tightening, "fuck— i need you to say that again.." and it's so hard to keep himself from just cumming early on and spilling all of himself inside, to soothe the twitching burn in your heat and warm you up in such special way.
you whine, a sound all desperate and eager to please him, "y-you're so good to me." you say once more, noticing his grip tensing on your flesh, tracing his cock over your delicate sweet spots as if he wanted to have him size embedded on your cunt forever, the fast rolls of his hips pistoling you towards the edge of release.
"my love.." he grumbles from behind, slanting his body forward whilst wrapping one strong arm around your frame, his movements now becoming a dab sloppier, somewhat careless and messy, yet do not get fooled— because you see, his enduring strength never falters, it's growing behind every thrust and remains on its place as you need to take it all, your ass smacking back at his hips, whilst needful moans and praises leave both of your darling lips.
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𖧡 — ALBEDO
you attempt to watch as best as you possibly could from a position such as this one, focusing back while albedo was putting formidable pressure on your ass before listlessly shifting one large pillow under your hips, so you could relax your muscles with your behind being perfectly shaped for him, staying in place so he needn't worry and can go all out on you.
from the grip on your plushy behind, he gives it another strong squeeze before his palms begin to ghost over your lower back, suddenly adding his weight on top, his hips now beginning to shift forward so he could sink himself inside your hole— very much aware on how long you have been waiting for this to happen with your sopping cunt fluttering around sheer air, clamping and letting go again, aching for something to fill it, someone for that matter.
he starts with one inch before adding another of his cock splitting you apart effortlessly, the stretch consisting of a mild burn that developed into a mind-numbing euphoria that touched the deepest ends of your nerves, and albedo pauses for a moment just to be sure, being aware that having you pushed into such position made you extra tight for him, your warm walls constricting against his shaft so agonizingly cramped that he feels like he was about to explode.
"you're... so tight." he grunts, experimentally wiggling his hips to find the right spot, "it's even tighter like this." he notes and it doesn't even surprise you anymore on how vocal he could become— at the same time, you could also debate that it's an abysmal habit from his work as an alchemist, which was demanding him to write down every last one of his experiments— or in this silly case, how well his cock felt whilst deeply pushed into you.
"how's that?" he mutters again, warm puffs of air touching the film of the sweat on your neck before he glides a long, deep spot on your walls, your thighs beginning to strain at how he handled you, never stilling his movements and examining several reactions your body made to the heightened breathing exiting past your parted lips to the pitchy tone color of your broken whines.
you cry out, little, shaky pants evidently notable when he nudges your cheek with his nose all sweetly, a grin on his face signalizing his happiness and gratefulness to this moment.
"it's perfect..bedo.." you mumble, your lower lip trembling as your pussy lubricates his girth with your arousal, a ring of whites lacing the skin on his shaft as your complete frame quivers under him the moment he throbs inside at your whistling affirmations, a mirage of dense clouds fogging his mind from the feeling of doing everything right, pleasing you just the perfect way.
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𖧡 — CYNO
"you.." a gaping, gritty whine slithers over cyno's lips, trickling undermost the silhouette of his warm heaves before he leans his weight down on your back, to nibble on your shoulder, ghosting over the skin with his white canines.
the tone of him, it never changes, and he continues, "this feels so good, baby." mumbling again, smearing messy, wet kisses along your flesh while becoming quite irritated on the lack of responses coming from you— without realizing that you're practically crumbling under the heaviness of his cock crowding your clamping walls, "you.. you feel amazing."
granted, it's silly— and somewhat cute of him, when cyno gets so overwhelmed with the pressure building inside his stomach whenever he fucks you, it's almost as if he can see the twist form on itself, together with the force of his strong hips pistoling past the desperate grip of your walls, keeping your body steady while your bodies moves as one.
and don't get him wrong but there was nothing better than looking at your hazy facial expressions or your misty eyes, consistently fusing into a stronger version whenever he paces his hips a little faster, glancing down at your cunt flooded by his erection before spitting down to lubricate you further, again then— becoming rougher so you could scream his name how much you wanted to, so he could listen to you beg him to finally make you cum.
on the other hand, he loves watching your ass tightly squeezed against him, or how you're able to grind eagerly into his touch whilst holding onto the head board for your dear life, swallowing his cock back each time he drums himself inside— with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, able to just stroke the flesh of your ass and pull you into his cock with it, his strokes long and steady taking your breath away.
you make an affirmative noise, it being the only thing you could say as a large hand rubs over your thigh. cyno presses forward and buried his face in your neck, mouth open, almost feral alike rocking his hips, his cock slipping out with a slick noise as you welcome him all lovingly.
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𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE
there was no other way as to go on about that particular matter, but scaramouche always has to have his eager hands on your plump ass— or moreover look at it, even better when it's tightly pressed against his hips so he can easily fuck into you, together with watching how the fat of your behind messily nudges and sticks on his skin due to your pussy drooling of your slick.
how he needs to spill himself on top of your ass and lower back when you cry out in babbled whines, curse out at the overstimulation taking a heavy impact on your frame as he allows your cunt to milk him forever, noticing the strong grip of your pussy tightening ever so slightly on his shaft, holding him in before softening again so he could press his dick inside, all inches sheathed while you're greedily taking him.
his cock effortlessly spreads you, his broken grunts untangling butterflies inside your belly as he shivers at each new quiver of your walls around his dick. "you know you can talk, right?" scaramouche rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue whole his hips buck hard against your bristling heat, noticing how you yelp in a tireless bliss touching the edge of your pleasure spots.
without pretence— you're not entirely sure if he's saying that to tease you or have you agitated, since scaramouche knew how much you hated it whenever he edged you on, maybe ripped you off an orgasm because he liked the way you tend to beg for it afterwards. or if he really cannot see that you're actually struggling to even breathe out in an even matter, with his hips being consistent in their blows, unwavering, making it to say something coherent even a greater task.
"fuck.. kuni please don't tease me now." you breathe, hiccuping over your utters, noticing his warm breath fanning across your back, his nose tickling your neck, grinning at the little moans that leave your lips and oh, he has you spiraling now but hey, at least you're trying to meet his demands.
now, you're keeping yourself in place to move your body as one with his own, penetrative squelching noises reverberating off the walls as the flushed, leaking tip of his cock crowds the burning ends of you, kuni's palm itching to feel the soft trace of your ass again, or the trembles of your entire body resounding over his— the slick slides of wet skin on wet skin invading his ears.
maybe he won‘t be mean tonight after all and let you have it for once, and fuck— he’s immediatly noticing how he’s succumbing to his one and only weakness, which was you— at last, choosing his enchanting darling over his ego.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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sweetestdesire · 3 months
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ANGRY INSIGHT
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WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, spanking, mentions of masturbation, public sexual acts, exhibitionist kink, etc. 18+ readers only
PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader asks Jack Hughes to take his anger out on her.
Jack didn't say anything as they left the Prudential Center, pausing so he could pull his hoodie on before going out into the chilly parking lot. He didn't say anything when they got to his Range Rover, though he slammed the trunk a little harder than strictly necessary after putting his hockey bag in it.
Y/N didn't push it, assuming he might want a few minutes to collect his thoughts, but when he still hadn't said anything after they’d left the arena and were about to turn onto the highway, she had enough.
"So, that was different.” Y/N said.
Jack still didn't speak for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and let it out. "Just say it, Y/N."
"Say what?"
His jaw clenched as he slowed at a stop sign and he went silent again. Annoyed, she waited until he'd turned, then folded her arms and looked at him as he drove.
"Say what, Jack?"
"That you hated it.” Jack snapped. "That you think I'm a complete asshole. Or that you're questioning whether you want this to continue because you don't want a boyfriend who's aggressive and rough and all the things I know you don't like in a guy."
"What are you talking about?”
"You looked horrified.” He said. "And that was exactly what I thought would happen." Jack waved his hand slightly before grabbing the steering wheel again. "It's the one fucking place I can just let loose, but everyone thinks this is all I am. And now you're gonna think so, too."
"How do you know what I think if you haven't bothered asking me?" Y/N asked flatly.
He let out a dry chuckle. "Because I'm dreading what you're gonna say. But you still gotta say it, so just tell me you hated seeing me like that and that you're gonna leave me for someone who has a better way to deal with his anger."
Y/N looked at him, but he steadfastly kept his eyes on the road. "And what if I liked seeing you like that?" She finally asked.
Even in profile, she could see the lack of belief on Jack’s face. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met in my entire life. There's no way you liked seeing me like that."
Faced with admitting it, Y/N hesitated. As guilty as she felt about it, she had enjoyed watching him play and getting rough with the other guys out there, at least for the first part. He'd dominated the game with a sort of graceful power that kept making her breath catch in her throat and visions of his hands pinning her down running through her mind.
The thing Y/N hadn't liked was watching him hurt another person, which he'd done because why? Because the guy knew he would. Because everyone in that arena except for her knew about Jack’s apparent anger on the ice. The man he'd punched had known that and played into it, purposely doing things that would trigger his temper and turn him into the pouty, sullen man currently in the driver's seat.
"I liked watching you play.” Y/N finally said, then turned so she was facing forward. "I didn't like that you're a sore loser."
Jack’s head snapped towards me. "What?"
"You're a sore loser.” She repeated, staring straight ahead.
He looked at the road again. "We didn't lose, we won. I scored two goals."
She shrugged. "Maybe your team won, but you got thrown out. If you had just let him talk his shit, he would've been thrown out and you wouldn't have. And now you can't play in the next game, right? The man beside me said you got suspended."
Jack’s jaw twitched. Y/N watched him from the corner of her eye, then looked out the passenger window.
"You're wrong if you think I have a problem watching you play rough. What I didn't like was watching you hurt someone on purpose because you were pouting about him being a jerk."
"I wasn't pouting.” He grumbled.
"You're pouting now."
"I'm not pouting, Y/N.” He repeated testily. "I can't help it, okay? This is just how I..." Jack let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't even know, okay? This is the one place, the one thing that I can take out my anger on. Should I probably get help figuring out a better way to deal with it? Probably, yeah, but I haven't, and now it's probably gonna cost me you."
"How is this costing you me? I'm not breaking up with you. I told you, I liked what I saw.”
"You expect me to believe that?" Jack said. "You expect me to believe you, the person who hates it when people raise their voices at each other, let alone actually fight, liked watching me act like some kind of asshole taking out all his shit on the opposing team?"
"I liked watching you play.” Y/N clarified. "And yes, even the parts that were a little rougher. It was hot, Jack, okay? What wasn't hot was when you punched that guy just because you were angry." Her heart thudded in her chest and she bit her lip, not quite sure if she was going to say what was on her mind until the words began spilling out of her mouth. "So, instead of taking it out on some random player when he purposely pushes your buttons, maybe you can take some of it out on me."
Again, his neck twisted towards her so fast that she was worried he might get whiplash. She pretended not to notice, instead continuing to look out the window.
"What was that?" Jack asked in a flat, icy voice.
Her tongue felt very dry. "Maybe this is something I can help you with."
"What the fuck are you trying to say here, Y/N?"
"I..."
"Jesus Christ." Jack turned away, a shaky laugh escaping his throat. "You think I'm gonna hurt you? Fucking hit you?"
It was her turn to whip her head towards him. "Absolutely not."
"Then what the hell are you talking about?”
"Sex, Jack. I'm talking about sex."
"Sex.” He repeated heatedly, then frowned. "Sex?"
"Like, as a substitute."
"Rough sex, you mean."
Y/N could feel warmth creeping up her neck from the spot on her collarbone he always said turned pink first. "Yes."
"No."
"Why not?”
"Because I don't want to fucking hurt my girlfriend!" Jack snapped. "God, half the time I'm with you, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."
"I'm not as delicate as you seem to think I am."
"And despite what you saw today, you seem to think I'm a hell of a lot more capable of controlling my anger than I actually am." He shook his head. "Just no, Y/N."
"Even though I was so turned on during the first part of your game that I was trying to figure out if there was somewhere on the way home you could pull over so we could fuck in your car?"
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Since when do you talk like this?"
The statement might have been bold, but her hands were definitely sweating. Y/N pressed them to her thighs and tried to pretend she knew where she was going with this.
"I told you," Y/N said. "It almost bothers me how much I enjoyed seeing you let loose and just become this sort of primal, animalistic man that I'd never seen before. I liked that they were a little scared of you. I'm sure that says something about me that I don't want to think about, but it's the truth."
His throat flexed as he swallowed.
"Then you got all pouty, and I didn't like that.” She continued. "So this could be like a solution for you. You could punch a guy in the face or you could save up all those frustrations and bring them to me at the end of the game."
His mouth was still partly open as he listened, soft puffs of breath escaping as he kept looking at the road ahead of him.
Y/N bit her lip, then grasped small handfuls of the fabric on her skirt. "Just think of it. Your next game, when some stupid jerk makes you mad, you can look up at me sitting in the stands and know that if you don't act like an asshole, you get to bring me home, pin me to the wall, and fuck me until I can't walk anymore. I think that would feel a little better than punching a guy, don't you?"
"No.” Jack finally said, his voice hoarse. "I mean, yes, but I can't do that to you."
"I mean, you could. If you wanted to."
"I don't want to."
She glanced down. "If you wanted me to believe that, you shouldn't have worn your gray sweatpants."
Jack dropped his hand to his lap, his face turning red as he tried to adjust himself so his erection was a little less prominent, but failing in the most successful way. "That isn't the kind of guy I am.” He said, his voice strained.
"It's the kind of guy you are at least once a week." Y/N looked down at his lap. "And it turns out, maybe once a week I'm the kind of girl who really, really likes that."
"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N.” Jack sounded frustrated, a pained look on his face. "I don't know why you would want me to. You saw how hard I hit that guy.”
"I'm not asking you to hurt me.” Y/N said. "I'm asking you to fuck me and take me however you want me. I know if it was too much, all I'd have to do is ask you to stop and you would. Because regardless of who you think you are when you're out on that ice, I know I can trust you."
Jack was silent, and she didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else she could say. Part of her was frustrated with him and part of her was feeling rejected. That part, along with most of the rest of her, was embarrassed she’d ever brought up her half-baked idea of using sex to help him get his frustrations out, which had been a cover up for the fact that she wanted it rough.
But Jack didn't, and that was fine, and maybe they both just needed to walk away from this conversation so they could go back to the way things were before she insisted she wanted to watch his game. Maybe it was naïve of her to hope for that, or maybe it was delusional, but regardless of what Jack had thought might happen when she saw him act the way he had, she didn't want to break up. She hoped he didn't, either, even though she knew he was frustrated with her.
Y/N was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice until after they’d turned that he'd switched lanes and taken them onto one of the many side roads along the highway. As fences and trees filled her view and something like worry filled her chest, she turned to him.
"Jack?" She asked nervously.
His throat flexed. "You said you trust me?"
Y/N had said that, and she had meant it. Swallowing, she nodded, then flattened her palms against her thighs again and watched as they went further and further down the road. A few minutes later, he turned onto another side road, and then another, until he found a road that was mostly hidden from view by trees on both sides.
Jack slowed when he saw one of those dead-end turnouts that led onto some field and pulled into it so the side of the Range Rover was blocked from the view of the road. Then, he turned off the vehicle and undid his seatbelt.
Jack glanced down at her lap, where fistfuls of fabric from her skirt were still balled in her hands. "You want me to fuck you?"
Oh. Oh, God. Her breath caught in her throat. "Here?"
"You said you wanted me to take you however I wanted you."
She had definitely said that, too. And she had very much meant it. "Uh-huh.” Y/N whispered.
"So yes, here." His voice was a low rumble. "Answer the question."
"What?”
"Now is the time to back out if you want to back out.” Jack said. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"
"Yes.” She said without hesitation.
"Then take off your fucking seatbelt."
Y/N immediately let go of her skirt and pressed the buckle, letting the belt slip away from her body. There wasn't even time for her to take a full breath before Jack grabbed her and pulled her over the console, guiding her so she was straddling his lap. She gasped in surprise, then jumped when a loud honk echoed through the abandoned air around them as her ass hit the horn on his steering wheel. She let out a startled laugh, but Jack didn't so much as smile; he reached under the seat and half a second later, he pushed the seat back as far as it would go and she jolted forward, slamming her chest against his.
One strong arm was around her in an instant, holding her hard against his body as the other hand went up to her neck. Jack pulled her head forward, capturing her mouth in a bruising hard kiss. An unintentional moan slipped out and he grunted, pushing his hips up so his bulge pressed against her mound.
"If you want me to stop," Jack mumbled against her mouth, "you say 'stop’ as loud as you can, the second you want me to. Otherwise, you're fucking mine. Understand?"
Y/N nodded. He sank his teeth into her bottom lip. "Say you understand."
"I understand.” She whispered breathlessly.
Jack bit down again and she whimpered, but he didn't release her lip until his hand shifted and moved up, his fingers slowly raking through the hair at the base of her neck. The steady, creeping motion of his hand sent a shiver of anticipation through her, her shoulders tensing as her breath came in short, excited puffs.
Then, all at once, Jack tightened his fist around her hair and tugged, making her gasp again and forcing her head back so her neck was revealed to him. He had complete command of her body, one strong arm still clutching her to his chest and her head immobile from how tight a grip he had on her hair.
One gentle kiss was placed at the base of her throat, a complete contradiction to the way he was holding her, but that tenderness didn't last. Maybe he was timing it, the beating of her heart forceful enough that he could feel her pulse beneath his lips, but it was just enough to remind them both of the person Jack truly was — sweet, kind, loving, and generous in all things before he submitted to the person he was on the ice.
A heartbeat after he kissed her neck, he buried his face against it, his teeth dragging along her skin, not quite biting but informing her without words that he very well could, if he wanted to. Jack flicked out his tongue, tasting every inch of her neck before deciding which one he wanted to suck on.
"You're gonna leave a mark.” Y/N whispered as she felt a slight pinch.
He sucked harder, then released the spot. "And you're gonna like it."
Well, that was true. That mark was followed by another one, and then one slightly lower after he undid the zipper on her jacket and pulled the collar of her shirt down so he could leave one along her collarbone. A pleasurable tingle radiated from each of the places he'd claimed, making her shiver.
Jack tugged her head further back so he could admire the workmanship he'd put into branding her, then placed another contradictory kiss on her collarbone before he released his grip on her hair. Her head fell forward and he pushed his mouth against hers, his breath hot and needy on her skin.
"This is what you wanted?" He asked.
Y/N almost said yes, then stopped as a delightfully wicked thought crossed her mind. “I want more.” She said instead.
Jack laughed. Not at her, not in a way that said he thought she was being funny. No, it was more of a chuckle, a knowing sound that was full of promise and ego, a rumble that made her very glad she wasn't standing because her knees would have given out from the rush of electricity that surged through her.
"You asked for it, baby.” Jack growled, and then her jacket was torn from her body.
Y/N couldn't keep up with his hands. It was a whirlwind of motions: her jacket was tossed to the side as he buried his face against her clothed chest, then there was a large hand splayed on each of her hips, pushing her down onto the thick bulge beneath her. She moaned and suddenly her shirt was gone, yanked over her head and tossed away while Jack’s lips and teeth claimed the revealed skin on her chest. He groaned into the tops of her breasts, a low sound that seemed to drip through each of her nerves and down to her panties, which were already so wet that she was sure they were leaking onto his sweatpants.
Jack thrust up against her, making her breasts jiggle against his face as he pushed his arousal against her still-covered pussy. Y/N indulged in the friction, craving more and rolling her hips as much as she could beneath the unforgiving hold his hands had on her. She, however, was not in charge.
"You want this?" Jack asked, then forced her hips forward and back, making her grind against his cock much harder and driving a pleasured yelp from her mouth.
"Yes.” Y/N said breathlessly. "I want it."
"You want it?” Jack repeated, almost taunting her. "You want this cock so bad, don't you, pretty girl?"
"Yes.” She said again, nearly wailing. "Please, I want you to fuck me."
"No.” Jack said, then laughed when she made a distressed noise. "Not yet."
"But I want you inside me."
"Oh, I'm about to be inside you." Jack let go of her hips, sliding his hand to the side of the seat again. "But not the way you want. This is what I want."
With that, Jack pulled the handle that reclined the seat, tilting it back just enough that when he pushed her off his lap and onto the floor beneath the steering wheel, she had easy access to the hard cock straining the front of his pants. Even though she was hornier than she’d ever been in her entire life, Y/N had to marvel as she adjusted her position between Jack’s legs.
The people who made his Range Rover were not fucking around when it came to leg room. She was able to lean forward enough to hook her fingers into the waistband of his sweats and tug them down, noting as she did that there was indeed a wet spot on the front of them. Whether that was from her or from the leaking cock still encased in his boxer-briefs, she didn't know; those had a wet spot on them too, but she didn't have time to examine it.
"Take it out, Y/N.” Jack demanded when she paused.
Y/N did as he asked, slipping his underwear down and revealing his gorgeously thick, already weeping cock. She bit back a smirk as she looked at the veiny, throbbing erection jutting up in front of her. Jack lifted his hips just enough to let her get his boxer-briefs to the middle of his thighs before grabbing her hair again and pulling her head forward. The tip of his cock brushed against her lips and she looked up at him, his eyes betraying his need even more than the hardness of his cock did.
"Open your mouth.” Jack said.
In what she hoped was a teasing, coquettish way, Y/N parted her lips just slightly. He waited, then tightened his grip on her hair, his eyes darkening.
"Do you want this cock or not?" Jack asked. "Open it properly or I'll do it for you. I think one of those things is gonna feel better than the other, don't you?"
Eyes wide as he taunted her with her own words, Y/N let her jaw fall the rest of the way open. Instantly, Jack pushed his cock forward, driving it past her lips and letting the head drag across her tongue. There was a brief moment when she could taste the flavor of him, a faint hint of soap and salt and raw need, and then he shoved himself to the back of her throat.
The urge to gag flared up, tears springing into her eyes as her stomach started clenching. Y/N fought it with everything she had, knowing Jack would hear her choke and pull back immediately, that look of primal lust fading as he worried that he'd gone too far. And that was the absolute last thing she wanted, not when they’d just started and she was reveling in the way he was looking at her and speaking to her and using her.
Inhaling sharply through her nose, Y/N managed to repress it, though just barely. Jack seemed to notice or at least suspect something and the hand in her hair loosened. Panicked, she lifted her hand to his and looked up at him, hoping her eyes weren't watering too much, and held his gaze as she pressed down on his hand.
"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack hissed, and she let her hand drop away as his other hand moved to the back of her head.
There was no point in her trying to control the pace of the blowjob. Jack took over, staring directly into her eyes as he moved her head the way he wanted to. And as much as she hated to admit it, she loved it. Her body was singing, her nipples hard beneath her bra and her pussy dripping. She squirmed, but there wasn't enough room in the wheel well for her to properly shift.
So with her lips wrapped around him and his cock dragging along her tongue with each thrust, Y/N moved her hands from where they were sitting uselessly on his thighs. Between his thrusts, she wormed her arms down to her sides, her shoulders pressed tight against his knees as he used her face. It wasn't until she’d worked the hem of her skirt up in one hand that Jack realized what she was doing.
"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack breathed, moving one hand off her head so he could see better. "Are you going to touch yourself while you suck my cock?"
Y/N made a choked noise against the cock in her throat that was intended to be either an affirmative answer or a moan. She wasn't exactly sure, but she held his gaze as she worked her fingers into her panties by pulling them to the side, since she couldn't lift her shoulder enough to slide them in from the waistband.
Another choked noise rumbled against his cock as she felt the slickness of her pussy. Y/N was beyond soaked; everything from her thighs to her folds to her mound was coated in wetness and her pussy was so warm that she could feel the heat without even pushing a finger inside.
Her body felt hollow, desperate for something that would satiate that hungry, yearning ache, and the best she could do right then was her finger. She slipped it inside and whimpered, though the sound was muffled. Jack groaned and rested one arm against the car door while gathering her hair in his hand again.
"That's right, baby.” Jack said. "Fuck yourself while I fuck your mouth. Make yourself feel good."
Y/N pushed another finger inside herself and brushed the base of her thumb against her clit. Relief soared through her and her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as her pussy walls squeezed around her fingers. Jack yanked her hair hard and her eyes flew back open.
"No.” Jack grunted. "I'm the one letting you play with yourself, so you let me look at you while you touch your greedy little pussy."
Hardly daring to blink, Y/N stared up at him, certain that her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed pink. A sloppy mix of spit and pre-cum trickled down her chin as he kept fucking her head down on his cock, dripping onto her chest and the tops of her still-contained breasts.
"Good girl.” Jack whispered. "You look so fucking irresistible right now, baby. Keep taking it. You're taking it so good."
Y/N’s thighs trembled, his words so stimulating that it was almost like they were touching her clit rather than her hand. Short, quick bursts through her nose were the only way she could breathe, though that wasn't why she was feeling light-headed. That was from the pleasure, from the way she was fingering herself, from the buildup of bliss that was radiating from that eager, aching spot in the core of her body.
It rose and spread, delight dancing along her skin and to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts — everything. Her limbs began to feel numb in the best way as that promise of overwhelming euphoria built up and up and up. She stared into her boyfriend's eyes, but keeping her own open was growing more and more difficult.
"That's right.” Jack encouraged. "Come on, baby. Let me see you cum while you've got my cock in your mouth. Let me see how fucking much you love being my pretty little whore."
Jack groaned as she cried out uncontrollably, an unintelligible noise erupting from her as her pussy clenched around her fingers and her body spasmed, bursting with the sudden release of ecstasy. Try as she might, Y/N couldn't keep her eyes open, squeezing them shut as every other muscle in her body tightened in a desperate attempt to contain the feelings rippling and rolling through her.
Once the final burst of pleasure faded and she could open her eyes again, Y/N looked up at him, aware her lips were still wrapped around his cock and her hand was still between her legs, giving him her silent go-ahead. But he didn't. A satisfied smirk made the corner of his mouth flick up, then he slowly pulled her head back until she let his still-unspent cock fall from her lips. She took a deep breath once it had, looking up at him.
"You seem a little trapped under there.” Jack said conversationally.
"A little.” Y/N said.
"I'll let you out, but once I do, I'm going to throw you across the seat and fuck you until you can't walk properly."
That recently doused fire in her core flared up again, instantly burning up any satisfaction and replacing it with more need. "Okay.” She said in a tiny voice.
Jack’s lower lip curled into his mouth. "So if you need a break to recover, now's the time to take it. Because I won't be letting up until I cum all over you, baby.”
"I don't need a break."
He flicked up one eyebrow. "No?"
Y/N sat back as much as she could, looking up at him defiantly. "I want you to fuck me now, Jack."
He smirked, then half-shrugged before throwing the car door open. Cold air rushed into the vehicle, raising trails of goosebumps along her exposed skin. Tragically, he pulled up his boxers and sweats, covering his beautiful, throbbing erection before working his right leg past her and getting out.
Shivering, Y/N ran a hand across her face and chin, but before she could ease herself out of the wheel well, Jack grabbed her and pulled her partway out of the car before shoving her up onto the driver's seat, twisting her so her legs were hanging out the open door.
"What are you doing?” Y/N asked, but he tugged her forward, stepping between her legs and kissing her as he grabbed one breast in each hand and squeezed.
She moaned as he gripped her, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh just hard enough to be firm, but not painfully uncomfortable. She lifted her arms to his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt as he crushed his mouth against hers.
"What am I gonna do with you, baby?" Jack murmured. "You sit there and tell me you want me to fuck you, that you want me to save up all my anger when people fuck with me so I can use it to destroy that perfect little pussy I love so much, all these goddamn obscene words coming out of this sweet mouth of yours. You know what I saw just now?"
Jack tightened his hands on her breasts again and she gasped. "No.” Y/N said.
"I saw my pretty girlfriend get shoved down on her knees, still wearing that fucking ruffled skirt with her tits spilling out of a bra. I saw her finger herself while I made her choke on my cock." Jack let go of her left breast, just to bring his hand up to her chin and cup it, holding her face hard so she couldn't pull away from him. "I've been trying so hard to be the nice, sweet boyfriend I thought you deserved, but you don't want that, do you? You want someone who will fuck you as dirty as he fights."
"Yes.” Y/N moaned, and he sank his teeth into her bottom lip. She let out a soft wail and he did it again, then sucked on the tender spot he'd bitten as he let go of her chin and wrapped both arms around her so he could unclasp her bra. It fell away from her chest and she wriggled her arms out of it, letting it fall to the ground beside the Range Rover.
Jack dipped his head and shoved his face between her breasts. From there he used his tongue to guide him to her nipple, tugging on it with his teeth. She cried out as he nibbled on it, then made a low mewling sound as he soothed it by circling the stiff nub with his tongue.
He repeated the action on her other breast, cupping the first one in his hand so he could feel the hardness of her nipple pressing into his palm. Once he'd let her nipple fall from his teeth, a pleasant stinging radiating from the sensitive buds across her entire chest, Jack straightened back up and shoved his hand between her legs as he kissed her again.
"Listen to me.” Jack demanded. "When I'm done kissing you, you're going to turn around and get on your hands and knees with your sweet ass on display for anyone out there to see while you wait for me."
Y/N gulped, even though both of them knew very well that there was hardly any chance of there being a single living soul in the field behind them. "Okay."
"Good girl.” Jack breathed, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool outdoor air ran through her. "You keep your eyes looking straight forward, understand? All I want to see is your ass hanging out the door of my car. No peeking."
"I won't peek.” She promised.
Y/N wasted no time doing what he asked, clambering back into the car and balancing her knees on the edge of the driver's seat and her forearms on the edge of the passenger seat, thankful that the center console was below the seat level so she didn't have to contort around it. Her breasts hung below her and cold air tickled up the back of her thighs, making the heat of her pussy seem almost uncomfortably warm.
Jack opened the trunk and grabbed his hockey bag, rooting through it for a moment before grabbing something and slamming the door closed. She almost turned her head, but he'd said not to, so she kept looking forward and waited with electrified anticipation for him to move back behind her. But he didn't.
Restlessly, Y/N tapped her fingers on the passenger seat, shivering again as more goosebumps raised on her arms. A soft breeze stirred the fabric of her skirt, blowing it up slightly. Not that it was covering much; she knew her panties were exposed, and not just her panties, but the soaked spot in the middle of them betraying her arousal.
When she couldn't take it anymore, Y/N shifted again, letting her hip lean against the backrest so she could twist in place and look over her shoulder. Jack was standing a few feet behind her, his arms folded across his chest. When their eyes met, he raised his eyebrows.
"What'd I say?" He asked, his voice low.
Heat rising on her face, she turned back around quickly, but it wasn't enough.
"Oh, baby.” Jack said, and now she could hear him walking towards her. "I asked you a question."
"You said eyes looking straight forward.” Y/N replied in a quick, high-pitched voice.
"And what did I just see?"
"I didn't know where you went."
Warm fingers were suddenly circling her ankles and a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold overtook her. His hands slid up her calves, teasing her chilled skin.
"I went to get a condom so I can give my girlfriend the fucking she's been begging for.” Jack said in a low voice. "And I came back to see her sexy ass up in the air, so I was taking a moment to admire it when she decided she didn't want to listen to me anymore."
"Please, Jack.” She whimpered quietly.
"And then I asked her a question and she didn't give me a direct answer. What happened to my good girl, baby?"
"I..." Y/N breathed. "I, um...”
"I think someone needs to see what happens when she doesn't listen to me, don't you?"
Jack’s fingers moved up her thighs and under her skirt, caressing her ass as she realized he'd very intentionally made her turn around. Her breath caught in her throat as he flipped the fabric of her skirt up and traced his fingers along her covered ass crack.
"I asked you a question, baby.” He said.
"Yes.” Y/N said. "Show me what happens."
Jack laughed, then made her jump when suddenly there was a sharp pinch on one of her cheeks and a warm breath soothing it. She’d had no idea he was such a biter, but damn if she didn't fucking love it.
"You know how silly you sounded when you said you wanted me to slap your ass like I did with my teammates?" He teased. "That's just stupid guy stuff. I'd never slap your ass like that."
His hands were suddenly on her hips and he pulled her backwards. She yelped, catching herself as he slid her down so her stomach was resting on the seat. After a harrowing moment, her feet found the running boards so she propped herself up more easily.
Jack pushed her skirt up again, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down just past her ass. He leaned in and hunched over her body so the next time he spoke, his voice was in her ear.
"No, your ass is gonna be spanked properly." His covered erection pressed against her, hard as ever against her exposed skin. "Good and hard, like I fucking mean it. You want that, baby?"
"Uh-huh.” Y/N said.
"Of course you do."
Jack straightened up, tracing his hands down her bare back and caressing her ass again. The only indication he was about to hit her was that his touch disappeared; Y/N inhaled sharply and tensed, and a moment later his hand struck her ass cheek. It was more startling than anything.
She jumped forward slightly, but the sting of pain she’d expected wasn't present. Pursing her lips, she waited, anticipating another one, but he just traced his fingers along her ass again.
"Are you okay?" Jack asked.
Y/N turned again, looking over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. "I thought you said you were gonna spank me like you meant it."
His eyebrow flicked up, then he shrugged and slowly shook his head. "You asked for it.” Jack said, and she didn't even have time to turn back around before he brought his hand down on her ass again.
A loud crack echoed around them and she jolted forward, her stomach hitting the seat as a searing sting radiated from the spot he'd slapped. Y/N yelped, stunned at the suddenness of the pain on her ass and the rush of adrenaline that seemed to radiate from her pussy, and seconds later Jack’s fingers were soothing the burning spot on her ass cheek.
"Did that feel like I meant it?" He asked, his voice betraying his concern.
"Maybe.” Y/N gasped. "You should probably do it again, just to be sure."
His hand paused its soothing motions, a brief hesitation that she worried meant he was going to stop, that he thought he'd taken it too far. Then, a low, throaty chuckle was her only warning as he drew his hand back. A second powerful snap resonated and she cried out again.
"There.” Jack said, stroking the sore spot he'd just left on her other ass cheek as her body quivered beneath him. "A matching pair of handprints on this perfect ass of yours."
"One more?" Y/N asked breathlessly.
Jack made a soft noise and she tensed when his hand moved away, but it was replaced a moment later by the incredibly intimate feeling of his lips kissing the spot he'd just struck, his breath oddly soothing against what she was sure was reddened skin.
"Nice try, baby.” Jack said. "It's my turn to get what I want."
"And what's that?"
His lips moved away from her ass as he straightened up. Jack must have put the condom on while she was staring straight forward like she was supposed to. Maybe he'd even intended to walk up and enter her wordlessly, fucking her hard and fast and deep without even a warning that he was about to do it, before she’d felt the need to twist around and see where he was. She didn't know, but it didn't matter.
"I'm going to fuck you until you're screaming.” Jack answered, punctuating the sentence by grabbing her hips and shoving his cock inside her.
Jack didn't so much as hesitate before pulling back before slamming himself forward, so deep inside her that his hips pressed against the blazing handprints on her ass cheeks. Y/N cried out again, though it must have been obvious that it was a cry of ecstasy because he didn't pause before digging his fingertips into her hips so hard that she was sure they would bruise and plunging inside of her again.
Y/N’s nails dug into the seat of the car, bracing herself as Jack fucked her mercilessly. The sound of his hips hitting her ass filled the car, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her own heart and the noises being pushed from her mouth by the sheer force of his cock.
Hunched over her, Jack grabbed one of her breasts, which was swinging with the force of his thrusts. Squeezing, he groaned and kissed a spot on her back, just between her shoulder blades.
"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack gasped. "You feel so good."
"So do you.” She tried to say, but he used his grip on her to pull her up slightly so he could slide his other hand between her legs.
Y/N balanced herself with one hand on the steering wheel and the other against the backrest of the seat, but nearly the entirety of her weight was held up by Jack’s hands as he fucked her, fondled her, and fingered her. Stars burst in her eyes and the world around her flickered in and out; cold air and surrounding trees and the wide field behind her ceased to exist.
All that mattered was his cock and his hands and the way he felt inside her, the way his body kept slamming into hers and the overwhelming pleasure from the sensations he was giving her. It must have been obvious that she was about to cum because Jack quietly urged her on, rubbing her clit harder as he kept his pace steady and strong.
"Cum on this cock, baby.” Jack ordered. "Show me why I should come home and fuck you like this every week instead of losing it on some other bastard. Be a good girl for me. Prove to me you deserve to be fucked like this."
Y/N came apart in his arms, screaming just like he'd said she would. Her body shook, convulsing as orgasmic waves took over her, clouding her vision and her mind and turning her into nothing but a bundle of nerve endings that were firing over and over and over again. Just when she thought it would never stop, that she’d be stuck in that tortuous moment of delirious intensity, it slowly faded, and she fell heavy and limp in Jack’s arms.
Buried deep inside her, he paused just long enough to gently put her back onto the driver's seat, taking his arms back from under her before gripping her hips again. Jack started fucking her in that selfish way she was all too happy to oblige, exhilarated by the way he took his pleasure from her body.
When his breathing came faster, she knew he was close. Moments later, his cock was throbbing, and ropes of hot cum were painting her ass and lower back, though the rest of it got caught in the skirt that was still bunched around her waist.
"Holy shit.” Jack groaned, his voice staggered as he finished, his breath coming in hard gasps. For a few heartbeats, that was all she heard: his breath and hers, the car full of the scent of sex and cum, her body still in a hazy glow of satisfaction.
Then, Jack swore, lifting himself off her. “Are you okay?" He asked. "Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
"Don't ruin this with an apology.” She said. "I'm fine. I’m more than fine. That was amazing."
Jack hesitated, then laughed awkwardly. "Okay, good. Because I was gonna... your ass looks so fucking hot, all red like that and covered with cum. But I should... let me grab you a shirt or something.”
"Don't worry about it." Y/N pushed back, balancing on the running board as she shimmied her panties back up and then flipped her skirt back down over them before stepping down and turning to face him. "It's all washable."
Jack looked at her, a crease on his forehead betraying his concern as he lifted a hand to her cheek and tilted her head up. His eyes darted as he took in her face and expression. Then, apparently satisfied that she was as okay as she said she was, he relaxed and stooped down to kiss her.
"Will you come to my next game?" Jack murmured. "After my suspension's done?"
"Depends.” Y/N said, kissing him back. "Are you gonna punch a guy in the face again?"
"Baby, if all I have to do to fuck you like this again is not punch a guy in the face, I'm the luckiest guy alive. I'd punch myself in the face to do this all over again."
"No punching anyone in the face.” She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her still-naked torso in warmth. "Yes, I'll come to your game, and if you don't act like an asshole, we can do this all over again."
"You're amazing.” Jack murmured. "Fucking amazing. I'm gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, I’m gonna wash your hair for you and give you a massage and then kiss you all over and eat your pussy for hours." He kissed her again, then let go and bent over so he could pick up her bra for her before tracking down her shirt that had somehow ended up in the backseat of the car.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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I am thinking about morax after archon war using reader as a toy and reader tries to escape him and gets caught I wonder what shall reader receive ෆ⁠╹⁠ ⁠.̮⁠ ⁠╹⁠ෆ
Evil Zhongli? He'd be hot ngl.
Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, non-con/dub-con, choking, rough sex, tail use, possessiveness, degradation, body betrayal, forced breeding, creampie, Reader getting pinned down, evil!Zhongi, possessive!Zhongli
Word count: 1k
A/N: This was supposed to be in the form of headcanons but it got out of hand.
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It didn't matter where you were running to, how far, how long, all it mattered was to get away from the great Morax. Well you thought he was great once, you kissed that reality goodbye a long time ago. In reality he turned out to be an incredibly selfish man, taking what he wanted when he wanted it, his contract designed to bind you to him for eternity.
You didn't know that, how could you have known that? Because when a god comes along after so much destruction you don't ask many questions. Not when you're human.
"And where do you think you're going?" His raspy voice seemed to echo through the halls, everywhere, all around you. You were scared, dizzy, legs shaking from hours before. Surely he could smell that fear on you. It wasn't too late, you could still get away-
A dragon tail coiled itself around your neck, squeezing as you pulled at it, lifting you off the ground and bringing you face to face with the hooded figure, his body floating above the ground. He brought you closer to him, inches away from his face before he took the hood off to look at you directly.
He was truly beautiful. Golden eyes, his brown hair always kept neat, clean, tied in his ponytail, his arms bare, showing the marks sneaking down them. On the surface he was perfect, but underneath he was a monster.
"I need to... I can't do this anymore. Please, let me rest, just one night." You pleaded with him, your god, to have mercy on you.
"You ran from me and now you beg for me to let you go. We had an agreement, human." His warm fingers snaked up your face, so deceptive in their gentleness because you knew the pain they could bring, and the pleasure. "I should remind you of your role here." Your widened in fear and then in pain as your body was pushed to the ground, back facing him. Zhongli was on you on all fours, bracketing your whole body with his frame.
You couldn't even stand up the whole way without pushing your body into his, and feeling how excited he was to have you in this position. His tail once again wrapped around you, your ankle this time, ensuring that you won't get away from him. One of pushed your dress up, it was much nice than anything you owned prior. He always made sure his possessions were the finest.
The other hand traveled up your neck and grabbed your chin, his breath hot in your ear, "I do not understand. Haven't I given it all to you? Shelter, food, the finest clothes, security, protection, pleasure, more than a human woman like you could dream of." Gentle fingers rolled over your clit, making you let out an involuntary moan that was music to his ears, "And all I ask in return is that you be mine." The relief on your clit was brief, only long enough for him to push his pants down and reveal his hard cock. "You're mine. My human. My woman. Made for me, made for my cock, made for my seed."
You hated how easily his cock slid inside of you, how your body responded to his thrusts when moments before you were running in fear of him. It wasn't fair. "Stop. Please. It's too much. If you keep fucking me every night I'll..." You were too scared to scream for him, or maybe unable to because it hurt just to speak, your throat so sore from moaning, from being fucked raw by his cock every morning.
"You will not break on me, human. I'll make sure of that." Zhongli commanded and your body wanted to obey so badly. Your cunt squeezed around him despite the pain, "There you go. Good girl, I know you can take me every time. There's no more force necessary is there, your body knows it belongs to me, your pretty little holes know what they're good for."
"Cock." You answered when there was no question.
"Exactly darling. You're made for my cock, always have been, always shall be." With each hard thrust you found yourself moaning louder, your own voice foreign to your ears. He broke you so easily now, made you roll your hips against his, your ass slapping into him. You couldn't control yourself, only Zhongli could. "I cannot wait for your stomach to grow. I've never made children before, you'll be the first one I sire them with. Aren't you a lucky one?"
Children. Nine months? Shorter? Longer? How many did he want? Could you even handle birthing them for him? All those questions didn't seem to matter in the face of your oncoming orgasm.
Zhongli's breathing got faster, his thrusts sloppy, all the wanted was for his cock to be inside your pussy, it didn't matter how, he just needed to rut into you, fuck his cum into your womb, "I will always love you. I will never let you go darling, never." You came around his cock as you felt the ropes of cum rush into your cunt, his hand tight on your chin, the other palming at your clit, you called to god and he heard you, he was right behind you, fucking you. "I wonder how many times I need to claim that womb of yours with my seed before I see the results?"
He pulled out, finally letting your body hit the ground and let you turn on your back, fighting to catch your breath. You could feel tears streaming down your face, but you were unsure why. Fear? Excitement? Too much stimulation? All of the above. Whimpers were the only sounds you could make. Between your legs was a mess of your cum and his combined, spilling out, so much of it.
"Come darling, we seem to have more work to do." His tail pulled you up by your wrist while his arm wrapped around your hip, cradling you close to his body. You felt him kiss your forehead, happy that you were back where you belonged. By his side.
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saltoru · 8 months
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cw: talks of body image
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whenever you critique and complain of your body, gojo always quips back with a lighthearted “then just give it to me”
the first time you had this conversation, you were both standing in your kitchen after breakfast. you were wiping down the countertops when you opened up to him about thoughts regarding your body image, adding in a few lighthearted jokes and comments along the way.
he took a swig of his sweetened coffee and eyed you up and down from the corner of his eye. "then just give it to me," he exhales, setting the cup down and giving you a small shrug. you stopped wiping and looked at him confused.
"if you're not going to appreciate all this," he dramatically waves his hands in front of you, "then give it to someone who will. i certainly will, so just hand it over anytime."
amused, yet still confused, you frown and say, "how is that even supposed to work-"
he cuts you off and says, "your body will still be with you, but starting now, i'll be in charge of taking care of it." he looks behind him and adds, "you know what, my body's feeling kinda thirsty."
you watch him fill up a glass of water, mouth slightly ajar from puzzlement.
he brings the glass up to your lips and lightly taps your chin. "here, drink up."
you glare at him with furrowed brows as you somewhat reluctantly take a sip of water. "wait, so-" you begin.
"from now on, i'll be in charge of caring for your body," satoru firmly says, bringing his hands to your shoulders to make you look at him. "so you can't make those mean comments anymore. it's not right to talk about other people's bodies, right? this one ain't yours anymore until you start appreciating it."
and with that, he places his hand on your back and ushers you to the bathroom because "my body's feeling a little dirty, needs a bath."
for the next couple days, you decide to entertain his little gimmick to see how far he takes it. within these days, he diligently scrubbed you clean, fed you good, frequently made you drink water, take you on walks, and decide your outfits. you heard a lot of "how's my body doing, feeling kinda sore?" and then he'd spend the next 15 minutes massaging an area you never said was sore. "my body's craving ice cream," he'd say, and get up to get you your favorite ice cream.
"why is your body's favorite ice cream also my favorite ice cream?" you ask him as he hands you the carton and a spoon.
"coincidence," he shrugs.
"i'm feeling blue today," he'd say as he would hold up your light blue pants next to you. "hmm maybe dark blue...no, definitely light blue, even though both looks so good"
one afternoon, he suddenly said, "my body would look so good in this," and brought out his favorite baby blue lingerie set that he got you on one of his business trips. (it wasn't on sale and there was no special occasion, he just felt like getting one for you) satoru quickly ushered you to room to put it on.
"why would you randomly put your body in lingerie at 2:35 in the afternoon," you ask, trying to sound annoyed but really, you can't help your heart from fluttering at his dedication to this
"because i look good and i can," he widely grins as he looks you up and down. "c'mere, i'm suddenly feeling cold and need to be warmed up." he pats his lap and opens his arms. you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard.
since the beginning of your relationship, he had always been touchy, but this level was touchiness from these couple of days is unprecedented. his hands always had a place on your body. it used to just be one hand on your thigh or just his chin resting of your shoulder, but lately, it's been both hands on your thighs and his chin resting of your shoulder while his hands ran up your shirt. "gotta show my body extra love," he'd say when you question him. "since the previous owner wasn't so good at doing so"
the first time this happened, it lasted around a week. you found his whole gimmick amusing until after a while, you wanted to choose your own outfits, when you wanted to exercise ("not if," he insisted before giving your body back to you. "when" ), and what to eat, and after a quick promise to appreciate your body, he gave you a quick kiss and "handed it back."
this gimmick hasn't happened in a while, but every once in a while when he hears you complain, he just shakes his head and motions for you to hand it to him.
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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The One Thing You Can't Have
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)
Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.
Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception
A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!
With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.
When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.
You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.
"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.
The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.
"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.
He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.
The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.
"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.
"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.
"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.
You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.
After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.
Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.
There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.
After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.
He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.
It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.
He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.
You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.
“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.
“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.
It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.
You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.
“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.
He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.
Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.
To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.
“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.
“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.
“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.
“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.
“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”
“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.
Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.
Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.
So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.
Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.
So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.
“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.
“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.
“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.
“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.
“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”
“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”
“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.
Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.
“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.
He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.
“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”
And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.
You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.
It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.
He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.
He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.
When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.
You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.
The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.
You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.
"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.
Derek was going to give him hell.
"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."
"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.
"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.
His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.
He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.
He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.
It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.
The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.
Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.
Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.
The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.
The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.
"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.
"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.
"Y/N, how drunk are you?"
"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.
"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.
"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"
"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.
"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.
"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."
"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.
"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.
He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.
And he had a third pair of your underwear.
He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.
He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.
Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.
It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.
In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.
The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.
You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.
They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.
"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.
You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.
"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.
Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.
"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."
"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.
You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.
"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.
Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.
Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.
He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.
You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.
You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.
"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."
"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.
By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.
Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.
Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.
Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.
You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.
This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.
Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.
You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.
He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.
But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.
Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.
You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.
Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.
The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.
With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.
Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.
His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.
He was screwed.
"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.
Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.
"What did I miss?"
"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."
"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.
"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.
"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.
But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.
But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.
He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.
"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.
You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.
He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.
"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.
"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."
"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.
"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.
For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.
"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.
“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.
“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”
You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.
Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.
When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.
“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.
“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”
“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”
The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.
“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.
He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.
Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.
“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.
“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.
“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.
“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.
“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.
“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”
“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”
“Was that a threat, Spencer?”
“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”
“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”
“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”
“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.
Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.
When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.
“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”
“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.
“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”
You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.
“Peace offering?”
He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.
“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”
He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.
Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.
“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”
“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.
“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”
“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.
His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.
Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.
You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.
You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.
“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.
“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.
When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up
You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.
“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.
You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.
You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.
“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.
“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”
“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.
You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.
“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”
You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.
Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.
Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.
“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.
“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.
There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.
“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.
“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.
“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.
“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.
“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.
“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”
“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.
“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.
“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”
“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”
“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.
“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”
“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.
“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.
You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.
“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.
“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”
“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.
“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.
“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.
“What?”
“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.
“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.
“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Spencer! What are you doing?”
“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”
“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.
“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.
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takami-takami · 5 months
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Keigo never really stopped to think about his size before he met you.
He's aware he's big. He has eyes. But it never really mattered much to him besides the typical "huh, nice." when glancing down that men try to pretend they don't do.
So when he first tugs his cock free and your eyes practically pop out of your head, a whisper of "Jesus Christ" escaping, his first instinct is to worry.
He's about to ask "wait, is something wrong?" before he realizes it's not fear, but admiration he sees in those eyes that are laser-focused and transfixed between his legs.
Well. Maybe a little bit of fear. But it's a good kind.
It doesn't take him long at all to develop an ego.
By the third time he has you sobbing on his thick cock, insides stretched to the brim while his thighs grind against your ass, those sweet little words he coos carry an unshakeable confidence.
Words like, "you can take it baby, c'mon, it's okay. Shh, it's alright, so good f'me. Take me inside, baby. I'll make it fit. You've done it before, yeah? So proud of you, you take big cock so good."
Before long, he's faking obnoxious yawns next you on the couch— an excuse to place his arms behind the seat and spread his legs apart, enticing your predictable stare. He couldn't hold back that knowing grin if he tried. His boisterous laugh in response to your accusation of "stop being a slut, Kei'" only ceases once it's cut off by a moan, your knees thudding against the floor to properly kiss his prominent bulge through the clothes.
By the tenth time, he praises himself nearly as much as you.
"You love taking this fat fuckin' cock, don't you? Love being split open on my dick, yeah? Only mine? Shit— yeah, you do. Don't even care that it's stretching your guts, do you? Nah, you love it, you fuckin' love it. 'S that why you're screaming so loud, baby? Sound so pretty when you do. Get your head out the pillow, wanna hear you. Wanna hear that pretty voice scream my name when I take you."
"Mine," he snarls. "All fuckin' mine."
Once the post-nut clarity hits, he promises he'll go back to normal: wings drooping in apology like a kicked puppy as he thumbs away your thick tears of pleasure.
"Ah... Sorry, baby. Wasn't too rough, was I? You did so good. You sore? Want me to run a bath?"
All you're capable of providing is a shaky thumbs up.
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