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wndaswife · 4 months

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secret santa | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Your stepmother could not be more happy to have you back home for the holidays. To celebrate, she’s planned a very special surprise for you.

Word count: 9143

Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, some angst, strap-ons, blowjobs, spanking, cunnilingus, i don’t know the word for usage of a leash and collar, but there is leash and collar usage in this, so i suppose… mild pet play?, mommy kink, praise kink, dom!wanda maximoff

gif credit to vanessacarlysle

Since mid-November, neither you nor Wanda have had very much time to see each other; exams had started for you, and Wanda was working exceptionally hard within the Church Committee to organize the upcoming Christmas events.

As such, you hadn’t been able to do much but call each other when you could during some evenings and text throughout the day.

It was a pain, because although calling and texting stayed some burning desire to see each other, it also simultaneously added fuel to the fire, knowing that neither of you were really with the other.

So you were extraordinarily excited to spend the next two whole weeks with Wanda, and she was excited to see you too. While you were packing, you had even been on a call with her as she got ready for bed, making sure you packed all that you needed to and that you were ready for your trip home.

There was always something so captivating about watching Wanda get ready for bed, whether it was the brushing of her hair or the way she applied her expensive moisturizer and ran her fingers across her face and down her neck, or watching her do it all in her silk slip that revealed so much of her smooth-as-cream skin — really, all you knew was that you couldn’t wait to see her again.

On the twentieth of December, you came home, and it was your father who came out of the house first and greeted you, asking how you were and taking your bags from the trunk.

Though you told Wanda practically everything that happened while you were away, there were some things she kept to herself — things that stayed between the two of you. Sometimes you forgot that Wanda didn’t tell Vision everything, for you were surprised, here and there, that he asked about things that you’d already told his wife.

He did ask Wanda about you, for he knew you seemed much more inclined to speak with your stepmother about your day-to-day life than you were in speaking with him, which was rather natural.

In these instances, Wanda liked any excuse to talk about you, to gush about how proud she was of you and to share in the excitement of having you back home.

In fact, with the holidays coming around, the mothers at the Church Committee began to speak more frequently about their children coming home for the holidays too, and Wanda loved when they asked about you. She’d been spending hours upon hours a week planning events with the church, and because Westview was rather small, the church had ties to nearly every city event as well as those for the elementary school, so being able to talk about you during those tiresome hours was especially refreshing.

“Wanda’s inside just about to finish baking the banana bread,” Vision said as he began advancing up the stairs. “Some of Wanda’s committee friends are joining us for dinner in an hour. I’m not sure if she told you.”

She didn’t tell you about that.

But no matter; you could deal with a few extra guests, because what mattered now was that you were home and Wanda was in the next room.

When you entered the kitchen, Wanda’s hair was tied back and she had an apron around her waist — a telltale sign that she had been cooking if not already obvious from the smell of dinner coming from the dining room. She had just put the banana bread in the oven, and she straightened and turned to you.

She took her oven mitts off and you immediately approached each other with Wanda’s arms outreached and a warm, happy smile on her lips. You wrapped your arms around her waist and hers came around your torso.

You buried your nose in her hair and she kissed your shoulder and up your neck.

“Y/N…” she muttered into your skin, slowly warming from the cold air outside. One of her hands pushed up the back of your neck and she rubbed the pads of her fingers against the back of your head.

“You smell really good.”

Wanda laughed and she pulled away to hold your face in her hands, rubbing the cold of your cheeks away with her warm thumbs. “It’s because I’ve been cooking for nearly three hours,” she said.

She looked down at you still in your jacket. “What are you still doing in this, hm?” she asked, letting go of you and unzipping your jacket. She slid it down your arms. “That is no way to greet your stepmother — still in your jacket and all.”

You smiled. “I missed you so much, Wanda,” you said. You leaned forward and kissed her lips. There was flour on the bottom lip. You raised your hand and parted from her lips to brush it away gently.

With her arms still around your shoulders, Wanda pulled you closer for a deeper kiss, then parted to pepper kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “I missed you too, angel,” she whispered.

The sounds of Vision’s footsteps echoed down the staircase and Wanda straightened and you parted from each other. She began undoing her apron.

“How was the drive, sweetheart?” she asked, rubbing her thumb against your cheek adoringly, then pulling her hand away to untie her apron.

You and Wanda spoke while you helped clean the kitchen, with her telling you how things led up to her inviting some of her committee friends over for dinner. It felt like it normally did, talking with Wanda over the phone, but this time when you looked over at her, she was really there.

This time, you could really reach over and touch her, sneak a few kisses, hold her, watch her as she was wiping down the counters and setting the table.

Gods, how you missed her.

“You should get changed,” Wanda said, setting down the cloth and undoing her hair. She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her pants and pulled you towards her, turning you so your ass was pressed against the counter and her hips were pressed against yours.

You flushed and craned your neck to the side to see if perhaps your dad was coming down from upstairs without having been heard — he had said he was going to make a few work calls while he could so he was available throughout the evening.

With her fingers against your jaw, Wanda turned your head so you were looking at her again. “You’re going to make me jealous,” she whispered low, “giving your attention to anything but me.” She grinned as she watched your cheeks tint in a warm blush.

“How I’ve missed teasing you, sweetheart.” Wanda wrapped an arm around your hips and trailed her hand down to squeeze your ass. “Tell mommy you miss her teasing,” she pried, sticking out her bottom lip and pleading with her eyes.

“M-Mommy, I missed your teasing,” you replied with a swallow. Having Wanda talk to you this way was nothing like it was over the phone, and certainly not over text either. You were almost ashamed that you’d nearly forgotten how much of an effect she had on you.

Wanda seemed delighted, but not only because of your submission, but because it’d been so long since you’d been home with her. Even in visiting you at your place when she could, it wasn’t the same as having you home. It was the warmth and comfort of having you close at home that was special, and knowing you’d be there for a good while, during the mornings and the evenings.

She kissed the tip of your nose.

“Would you like to choose what I’m going to wear tonight?” she asked.

You nodded, incredibly eager.

Wanda’s smile widened and she released you from between her and the counter. She wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close as you walked upstairs together. She rubbed your side with her warm hand while you nuzzled your face against her shoulder. “My little angel missed her mommy this much?”

You turned your whole body around in her arm and hugged her, burying your face in her neck and nodding.

“Oh, honey…” Wanda whispered, rubbing her hand against your back, her other arm secure around your waist. “I know. I missed you too. I’m so happy that you’re home.”

Now that you were in Wanda’s arms, being held close to her while she comforted you, you were reminded just how much you missed being home. The visits weren’t the same as being home with her. Maybe you were overestimating because of how difficult this semester’s exams had been, but regardless, you were so happy to be with her.

“Baby, I have a surprise for you,” she said, kissing the side of your head. You raised your head from her shoulder and looked at her curiously. “I booked a hotel for us to stay in for the next two days. I need to get a bit more Christmas shopping done, and I wanted to spend some time with just you.” She explained how she had worded it to Vision.

You beamed. “Really?” you asked. You could only imagine it — spending some of the snowy season with just Wanda, having your own hotel room to come back to after spending the day together, being with her from the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep.

Wanda pinched your nose and wiggled your head side to side gently. “Yes, really, sweetheart,” she said and let go of you to peck your lips. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

The way your body was practically vibrating told Wanda that you were on the brink of shouting out excitedly and she quickly told you to keep it down because Vision’s office was just down the hall and that he was still taking calls. She kissed you tenderly. “And I have one more surprise for you once we get there,” she told you. “But you’ll have to be a good girl and wait — no hints.”

As promised, Wanda let you pick out her outfit for the dinner, but because Vision had been so close and was likely going to finish up his calls soon, she didn’t allow you to watch her get changed or vice versa; you changed alone in your bedroom and Wanda in hers.

During dinner, you were reminded of the earlier days before you had started seeing your stepmother — watching her from afar, her charming smiles and her warm laughs, her subtle glances at you and how easy it was for her to slip into and start conversations. That is all to say, however, that for the entirety of dinner, you were watching Wanda from afar, interacting very little with her aside from the casual conversion that the typical stepmother and stepdaughter had.

Conversation with her, when had, was affectionate, certainly, but was nothing close to what you wish you could partake in with her after so long of being without her; you could hardly wait to spend all of the next two days together.

In the evening after dinner and while you were getting ready for bed — Wanda’s committee friends insisted they do all the clean-up — Wanda came up to your bedroom after her friends had gone. There was a quiet knock on your bedroom door, and you opened it to Wanda stepping into your bedroom and giving you a kiss.

She closed the bedroom door behind her.

“I know we didn’t get to spend much time together tonight, honey.” She held your face in her hand, stroking your cheek with her thumb gently. You held her other hand with yours. “But for the rest of the holiday, especially during the next two days, I’ll be all yours.” She kissed your forehead tenderly.

She pressed her forehead against yours, meeting your eyes with a soft smile as she uttered a soft, “Goodnight, Y/N. I’m so happy that you’re back home.”

In the morning, you began to stir from your sleep when your bed dipped beneath you. Then you were enveloped in a warmth, one that reached your body through your blankets.

Wanda had an arm wrapped around your torso and she leaned down to you while sitting on the edge of your bed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Wake up, my angel,” she uttered softly. “Let’s get to packing, so we can leave early and get lunch together.”

“Mommy…” you muttered against your blankets, still half-asleep and slowly rousing from deep sleep.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile at seeing your sleepy face, and she nipped at your earlobe before lifting your blankets and getting under them with you. You initially groaned at the cold until Wanda turned you around and wrapped her arms around you, covering your face and neck in warm, soft kisses.

You whined, “Mommy, I’m sleepy!”

“Aw, you’re sleepy, huh?” she teased. She bit down on her bottom lip and brushed the tip of her nose against yours. Her fingers tugged at the waistline of your pajama pants, pulling you against her hips. “Is my baby sleepy?”

A small smile pulled onto your lips and you tried hiding it in Wanda’s shoulder, but she wouldn’t let you shy away once seeing you all cute and giggly. She let go of your pants and ran her hands up your shirt, her cold palms flat against your warm stomach.

You couldn’t stop your giggles this time and Wanda chuckled. Her fingertips brushed against the underside of your breasts and you began squirming.

Then without warning, Wanda groped your breasts with both hands, kneading then softly with her fingers. She watched close as your face contorted, squeezing your eyes shut and repressing a moan as you tried burying your face in her chest.

“Why don’t you lay back, honey, since you’re so tired?” Wanda suggested innocently, then released one of your breasts to push you down onto your back with her hand on your shoulder. She lifted your shirt up without hesitation and exposed your breasts to the cold air.

She immediately dove down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, using her hand to tug at the other. Her tongue circled your erect bud, flicking over it lightly as she sucked and eventually parted, giving your nipple a gentle tug between her teeth as she did. Then she moved to the other and did the same.

“Mommy…” you moaned, trying your best to open your eyes and look down to savour the sight of seeing your stepmother touch you for the first time in a while. You could see her mess of blonde hair between your tits, splayed out a mess against your chest.

Wanda pressed a kiss to both your breasts then pulled your shirt back down before moving up your body and kissing your lips. “Feeling awake now, doll?”

You rubbed your eyes, slightly lighthearted to have been touched in such a way after having just woken up. You nodded. “Yes. Awake,” you answered.

“That’s my good girl. Come. Let’s have breakfast before we pack.”

It was only Christmas Eve and onwards that your dad would have his holiday break, so for the next two days, Wanda was really all yours.

Wanda made you eggs and waffles, and made them just how you liked them too. She knew how tiring and a bit lonely living on your own could be, and she really wanted to pamper you and treat you as all sweet little girls ought to be — and she simply just loved to spoil you.

You felt so taken care of with Wanda.

Mommy helped you back your things, making sure you didn’t forget anything and offering to carry some of your things in her bags in case yours didn’t fit; she was always taking care of you, always making sure you were loved and attended to. Sometimes you felt like there wasn’t a single thing she did that she did without thinking of you.

The drive to New York felt like a dream — and quite literally. Often, when you were away from Wanda, you dreamt about things like watching movies together or making dinner or going on a long car ride with her, such things that were rather casual but meant so much.

In the warm car listening to Christmas tunes while both you and Wanda spoke about an assortment of things, the snow blew wildly past your windows.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Wanda asked, eyes on the road though her right hand came to rub your thigh affectionately.

You looked over to her, garnering your stepmother’s attention for a split second before she looked back to the road. “I’m just happy to be here with you,” you answered.

You watched as a smile spread onto Wanda’s face.

“Oh, Y/N.” She practically gushed; she even seemed like she was blushing. It wasn’t rare for Wanda to blush with you, but you always really liked when she did. “I’m happy to be here with you too.” She squeezed your knee.

The hotel Wanda had booked was rather nice, and seemed expensive, though that could’ve been partly attributed to how beautifully decorated it was for the holidays; there was a large lit up and decorated tree at the center of the lobby, as well as lights and hanging holly and ivy, with prop gifts and other decorations placed around lobby, but also throughout the entirety of the hotel.

“Would you like to go shopping after dinner?” Wanda asked as the two of you set your bags down on the bed in your room.

You slumped down on the bed, a singular Queen in the center of the room, and ran your arms up and down the expanse of it. “Yes — dinner then shopping,” you answered with a nod.

Wanda grinned at seeing you laying down so relaxed and she approached you. Walking between your knees, she pushed your shirt up and pressed a kiss to your belly. Then she pulled it back down and stood above you, looking down at you. She rubbed her hands against your sides.

“Let’s shower first?” she suggested, looking at how sleepy you looked.

You opened your eyes and smiled. “Yes, please,” you answered.

In the shower, Wanda lathered your body in soap with her hands then washed your hair, making sure to rinse you thoroughly in the warm shower water.

When it was your turn, she was enjoyably surprised when you chose to massage her shoulders beneath the water, stepping back against you and letting you touch her. More than simply being massaged, she liked just simply being touched by you, and how sweet and gentle you were with her and her body.

“Y/N, that feels good…” she muttered at one point. Then, “I’ve been so tense the last few weeks. That feels wonderful. Thank you.” You weren’t sure if you were really blushing that hard or if it was the shower’s hot water.

You loved being able to take care of each other; there was something so special about just being able to lather each other in lotion after showering and talking while drying up and getting dressed. With Wanda, it was so easy, and even the most simple things with her made you feel so warm.

You always had a place to go with Wanda — a place you belonged.

After dinner, shopping in New York City just a few days before Christmas was rather chaotic, but you found yourself enjoying it all in spite of how busy it was. The snow and the Christmas lights decorating the city and the stores, the bustling people all eager to spend time with their loved ones while wrapped in their warm jackets and hats, and especially, walking hand-in-hand with Wanda made the experience really special.

Coming back to the hotel, where it was just you and Wanda as it was in the morning and the entirety of the evening, solidified in your mind the idea that it was only you and Wanda that mattered in the whole world. It was only Wanda who needed your focus and attention, and it was only you in the whole world who needed hers.

You’d have to be heading home in the morning after tomorrow, reintroducing the reality that there was more than just Wanda to think about, but for now, you were entirely comfortable in this temporary truth wherein only she and you mattered.

If you were comfortable enough, you could almost make yourself believe that you had Wanda all to yourself for the entire holiday.

“Are you ready for bed, my angel?” Wanda asked as you set down your bags of gifts together.

“Not yet. Are you?”

Wanda shook her head, taking her jacket off and hanging it in the closet along with yours. “I’d like to show you the last surprise I kept for you,” she said, a mischievous grin forming on her face. “Would you like to see?”

Your stepmother loved when you begged, even when she knew she was already going to give in; she just liked when you asked her for things, so desperate for her attention and permission.

“Pleeease,” you pleaded, tugging on her hand and making her giggle.

She immediately gave in, of course. “Okay. Sit on the bed and close your eyes. I’ll have to get it out of my bag.”

You did as you were told, sitting on your bed with your hands folded in between your thighs, your eyes closed. You heard the unzipping of her bag and rustling of her clothes and other things she brought. Then you heard the padding of her feet against the carpet as she approached.

“You look so cute sitting so polite and patient,” she teased, tapping the tip of her finger against your nose, making your face scrunch up. The bed dipped beside you and you felt Wanda’s thigh press against yours. A box was placed in your lap. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

On your lap was a light blue box patterned with little snowmen and reindeer, tied with gold ribbon. Wanda kissed your temple and wrapped an arm around your waist, anticipating your reaction.

Buzzing with anticipation, you opened the box and carefully pulled back the sparkly white tissue paper to reveal a red and white lingerie set, and upon closer inspection, it was Christmas themed.

It was a two piece, with the top appearing to look like a red bow that tied together in the center between your breasts, a little bell hanging from it. It was also rimmed with faux white fur.

The bottom was coloured with the same red, frilled around the top with one ribbon bows on both sides where your hips would be. At each corner, above the ribbon bows, was an identical ribbon-like strap that went from one front edge, up your hips to wrap around your waist to the adjacent edge where the back of your hip was so the two ribbon straps conjoined just below your bellybutton.

On the side of the box, there was a headband with two reindeer antlers with a little bell at the base of each of them.

“Isn’t it cute?” Wanda asked. “Do you like it?”

You put the box over to the side of your hip so as to not drop it so you could quickly turn and wrap your arms around your stepmother’s shoulders. “I love it, mommy!” you cheered. “Thank you, thank you! I can’t wait to wear it for you.”

Wanda laughed and hugged you back. “Oh, I knew you’d love it, angel.” She pecked your cheek repeatedly. “Ever since I bought it, I couldn’t stop thinking of you all wrapped up like a gift, and those adorable reindeer antlers… I must admit, some of the pictures I’ve sent you of myself were when I’d been thinking of you wearing that exact outfit.”

She pulled away to speak low in your ear. “But, of course, mommy couldn’t tell you exactly what made her so wet when I sent you them. I had to keep it a surprise.”

“Do I get to wear it now, mommy?” you asked, pulling away and placing your hands on her thighs so you could lean close and plead. “Can I wear it for you now?”

“Baby, if I have to wait even another hour before seeing you with that on, I might just go absolutely mad. Please do put it on now.”

You started carefully taking the things out of the box while Wanda also took some of her own things out of her bag. She told you to get dressed and wait for her while she got changed in the washroom.

Mommy knew you so well; you loved how the lingerie looked on you, and you thought it looked really cute. Your favourite part was the bells and the ribbons. You really looked like a gift all wrapped up.

You wondered what else mommy planned.

You sat at the center of the bed like mommy asked, waiting patiently for her to come out from the washroom.

After a moment, Wanda stepped out in a lacy maroon lingerie set of her own. She had a black harness and a red strap already attached to it hanging from her hand.

Your whole body felt like it began to heat up at the sight of her body and her lingerie and how pretty and soft her skin looked, how beautiful mommy’s curves were, how nice and soft her hair looked, and the strap in her hand that was picked especially for you.

“Oh, Y/N, look at you!” she said in awe as she looked you up and down, setting the harness on the bed and tugging a bit on your lingerie. “The sweetest Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten. You look adorable all dolled up for mommy.” She leaned down with a grin and kissed your lips.

“Mommy, you look so pretty.” You admired her in awe as she straightened and looked down at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re gonna make me blush, sweetness,” she gushed, taking your chin into her hands and brushing the pad of her thumb against your bottom lip.

She stepped into the harness then turned so you’d be able to have access to where it had to be fastened. “Won’t you fasten it together for me?”

You nodded immediately then got onto your knees and leaned down to fasten her harness. Wanda watched as your back arched and your ass moved up slightly in the air. She felt her clit throb seeing you in your adorable little outfit all focused on helping mommy.

“That’s a good girl,” she said once you finished. Wanda climbed onto the bed and took a seat beside you. She wrapped an arm around your hips and pulled you close.

“Why don’t you make me happy and take mommy’s cock in your mouth?” she proposed, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I want to see my pretty girl’s mouth full of mommy’s cock.”

Excitedly, you moved onto your knees and positioned yourself closer to her hips as Wanda rubbed your back soothingly.

“Let me take this off of you for just a little,” she said, carefully removing your reindeer ear headband. Its bells jingled slightly as she set it down on the side table. She leaned forward and kissed the top of your head before sitting back against the headboard.

On your knees and leaning down to suck Wanda off with her hand resting on your lower back, you licked up Wanda’s cock, making eye contact with her as she looked down at you affectionately. You broke eye contact to spit down on her tip, before using your hand to gently jerk her off and lather it in your saliva.

With the way your stepmother kept warmly rubbing your back only encouraged you further, and you became rather impatient, excited to take her cock into your mouth. You looked up at her briefly, to which Wanda was still looking down at you attentively with her warm gaze, and you finally wrapped your lips around her cock and carefully bobbed your head down.

“That’s right, honey,” she urged gently, her hand moving up your back to rest against the back of your neck. “Deeper, if you can. I’d like to hear my cock in your pretty throat.”

You uttered something unintelligible as you kept Wanda’s cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, each time you went down slowly taking more and more of her into your mouth.

“Oh, that’s it, sweetheart,” Wanda cooed as your lips finally reached the base of her cock, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth. She listened as you steadied your breaths as you took her cock down your throat. Her hand came to the back of your head, her fingers gently weaving through your hair.

To please her even more, you began moving your head again, and this time, taking her whole cock into your mouth each time you bobbed your head down.

Wanda audibly moaned when you began softly gagging around her strap, your eyes shutting as tears began forming with the way her cock was entering your throat repeatedly. She never forced your head down, her hand only gently guiding you and massaging the back of your head and playing with your hair, but your desire to please her was so great that you were thoroughly enjoying having your throat fucked by her cock.

Though she wasn’t one for aggressive sex nor was she one for throatfucking, the throbbing of Wanda’s clit as she watched you gag and drool around her cock was too great a pleasure to refrain from jerking her hips up just a little — just to feel a little of the base of the strap rub against her cunt. She shut her eyes when she felt the slightest bit of friction against her clit and Wanda laid her head back against the headboard.

“Okay, that’s all, baby,” Wanda said, now feeling rather eager to move on and fuck you with how desperate she was feeling now. She leaned forward and cupped your face with her hands, wiping your saliva from around your lips and from your chin. Then she kissed you tenderly, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs. “You did such a good job, my good girl. I love seeing my beautiful angel trying her very best to make mommy happy.”

“Are you happy, mama?” you asked, laying your hands flat on the bed and looking at her curiously.

“I’m very happy, Y/N,” Wanda answered with a soft smile. “I’m so happy to be here with you.” She turned you around and repositioned the both of you so you were on all fours. “Stay here for a moment.”

Wanda moved over to the side and stepped off of the bed. You heard her rustling around through her bag and then her getting back onto the bed, sitting beside you. You sat back on your heels and looked at what was in her hands. “Honey, I might have lied — I have one more surprise for you.”

In her hands was a pretty red collar with a bell at its center, along with a black leather leash to match. You immediately felt your cheeks flush and your thighs press together; you had never been collared by Wanda before, and the image of her tugging you by a leash excited you immensely.

“Does this look alright to you, sweetheart?” Wanda asked gently, moving to you closer and stroking the back of your hand with her fingers. “I know we’ve never done anything like it before, but I thought it might be cute — treating you like my sweet puppy with a collar and leash. But if it’s too much for you, we don’t have to use it. It’s purely experimental, and I bought it only out of curiosity, so don’t be afraid to tell me no, okay?”

“I want to try it, mama,” you told her honestly, holding the leash in your hands and feeling the soft leather with your fingers. “But not very tight on my neck.”

Wanda kissed your forehead. “Alright. I’ll put it on now, and tell me how you like it.” She undid the collar and wrapped it around your neck. She kept checking in with you as she tightened it, making sure it was just right for how you wanted it. Then she tugged on it with the leash, also making sure it wasn’t too harsh on your neck.

When it was on comfortably, it made you giggle a little because the little bell jingled every time you moved.

That made Wanda laugh too; she thought you looked so cute. Then she put your reindeer antler headband back on and kissed your forehead.

Wanda was on her knees behind you, and you returned to your position on all fours. With the leash circled around her knuckles, she tugged on it and your neck was pulled back slightly. “How does that feel, honey?” she asked. She tugged again, a bit harder this time, so you knew exactly how rough it could feel in the case that you might want to change your mind.

You squeezed your thighs together and repressed a moan.

God, how could you describe how it felt to have Wanda pull you by a leash? You couldn’t think of anything sexier than being on all fours in a cute outfit she chose for you, fucking you with her cock and tugging you by a leash while you were wearing a collar she also chose specially for you. “That feels good, mama,” you replied, hanging your head and whimpering.

“Does it now?” Intrigued by your response, Wanda tugged harder, watching closely for your reaction as she pulled you all the way up so your back was pressed against her body. Her hand came to your neck and you whimpered. “That feels good, hm?” she asked with a smirk, her lips ghosting over your collar and up to your ear.

You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed. “Th-That does feel good, mama…” you replied.

“Remember, you can tell me to stop whenever you need, pumpkin. It’s been some time since we’ve had sex, and we’ve never used a collar and leash before,” Wanda reminded you gently. She used her free hand to stroke your hip with her thumb. “Like always, it’s okay to need to take a break to feel the need to stop — even if we’d been having sex regularly, and even if you do enjoy the leash.”

You nodded. “I know, Wanda,” you answered. “Thank you. I know I’m always safe with you.”

Wanda smiled. She craned her head forward over your shoulder and kissed your cheek. “That’s right, angel. Always,” she said. Her hand moved up your back and gently pushed you forward until you were back on all fours. She pushed her hips against your ass and you could feel her strap press against your clothed cunt.

With her leash still wrapped around her knuckles, she placed both hands on your hips and began slowly thrusting her cock against your clothed pussy. The collar and the leash’s tautness wouldn’t let you loll your head forward, and so you were forced to whimper out unabashedly as Wanda’s cock prodded at your clit.

“You look so adorable, honey.” Wanda rubbed her palm in circles against your ass. She delivered a soft spank to your ass and giggled when your body jerked in response.

Driven by the thrill of seeing her pretty doll all sensitive, Wanda tugged on your leash and spanked you again. She tugged on your leash again in a quick jerking motion to make the bell on your collar jingle.

Wanda pulled her hips back a little and took her cock into her hands, prodding directly at your clothed hole and twitching her hips forward to apply pressure. “You’d come if all I did was keep going like this, wouldn’t you?” she inquired with a terrifying amount of curiosity.

“I… M-Maybe…” you stuttered. It was true — you were really that sensitive to your stepmother.

You supposed, paired with the clothed fucking, that she’d only have to utter a few dirty words and deliver a few spanks in order for her to bring you to orgasm.

With that knowledge of her power over you, there was no telling what kinds of teasing mommy would feel like putting you through.

“Maybe?” Wanda repeated, clearly still preoccupied with watching the way her strap pressed against your cunt. She slowly slid its tip down and applied pressure to your clit. “Shall we see how fast it takes?”

Your stomach dropped and you immediately protested. “No, mama! Please, I want… inside. I want you, mommy,” you pleaded.

Wanda didn’t respond for a bit of time. She put her hands on your hips and slowly began thrusting her cock against your cunt, watching as it slit down your clothed slit and brushed against your throbbing clit each time her hips moved forward and she pulled your ass back.

You hung your head as you moaned out softly, but also because you felt some defeat for what seemed like Wanda being determined to get you off with your clothes still on.

Your leash was tugged back and your head was forced to position itself upright.

“Where’s my little girl’s enthusiasm now, hm?” Wanda tipped her head to the side to get a look at your expression. “You’ve always been such a sore loser, baby.”

At the sight of your protruding bottom lip, Wanda added, “Oh, don’t pout now, angel.” She rubbed your ass soothingly. “You want mommy to fuck you? Is that what you want?” She leaned forward, her cock slotting itself right in the slit of your cunt and against your clit, and tugged your leash back so she could look at you better.

“That’s what I want, mama,” you answered obediently. Your stepmother loved when you begged for her. “Please, mommy. Please fuck me.”

With a pleased smile, Wanda used the hand with your leash around her knuckles and pulled your head back by your hair. She leaned forward further and pressed a kiss to your neck and then your shoulder. “I’ll fuck you good,” she obliged, her voice low and vaguely threatening. “Don’t you worry, princess.”

While she rubbed your lower back with her warm palm, Wanda slowly pulled your underwear off. You heard her coo in amusement, “Honey, you’re the first Christmas gift I’ve opened all season.” She pulled it down your thighs and you felt your cunt part from its sticky confines. “And I have to say, I’m rather pleased.”

You felt her move backwards and her hands were placed on both sides of your ass. She ran her tongue through your cunt and audibly moaned, her fingers moving down to your hips and pulling you against her face.

The warmth of her tongue and the coolness of her face against your swollen, desperate pussy felt incredible. You let out a long moan and grasped at the bedsheets. Her tongue explored your soft cunt lips, tracing through your labia and moving gently over your throbbing clit. She dipped into your opening and groaned at the flavor of where you tasted the sweetest.

Greedily, her lips wrapped around you and sucked, her tongue flattening to taste as much of you as she could. When your moans became breathless and more restrained, Wanda pulled away against her own urges of gluttony, but not before lapping up around your inner thighs and around your cunt.

“I missed tasting you,” Wanda told you and completely removed your underwear from around your knees and tossed it aside onto the bed.

“Mommy…” you uttered quietly, feeling your cheeks flush.

Wanda reached back, where she had placed down a bottle of lube that she’d brought with the harness. She lathered enough onto her cock and laid it down where your panties were. Then she tightened her grip on your leash again. “Are you ready, baby?”

You nodded, nearly about to cry from how pent up you were feeling. “I’m ready.”

With a hand around your cock and the other around your hip to keep you steady, Wanda slipped her tip past your opening then steadily pushed herself inside of you. She watched as your cunt wrapped around her cock, your body jerking forward slightly as you adjusted to her size.

“How often do you masturbate, my love?”

Struggling to reply as you braced the entrance of Wanda’s cock, you uttered, “Only the times when I send you pictures and videos of myself, mama.”

“Only then? You never touch yourself without letting me know?”

“Never.”

“That’s good,” Wanda cooed and rubbed your lower back. From the last time you sent a video of yourself, that meant that the last time you’d touched yourself was about a week and a half ago. She would deep in mind how sensitive you were.

A sigh was released from her as her hips finally met your ass. Her hand rounded your hips and she pressed her fingers against your lower stomach. “Do you feel that, angel?” she asked. “Mommy’s all in now. You did such a good job.”

Tightening her hold on your leash by wrapping it once more around her knuckles, Wanda put both hands on your hips and began pulling you back onto her hips. The tautness of the leash made it so you maintained the arch in your back, and so all your moans and adorable little noises were released out loud so Wanda could hear them.

“Ah, fuck,” she mumbled. “You’re so adorable, my angel.”

Watching your ass as she pulled you against her hips drove Wanda slightly mad with desire, and she began to thrust her hips forward, your bodies meeting with a greater amount of force. Then Wanda placed a hand on your upper back and pushed you down so you were on your elbows. Her thrusts quickened and Wanda delivered a spank to your ass, making you yelp.

“Tell mommy how much you love getting your cunt fucked by her cock,” she demanded, tugging on your leash and grinning as she listened to how difficult it was for you to speak with how harshly she was thrusting against your ass.

“Mama, I- ” Your words were cut short when Wanda tugged you by your leash so your face was away from the pillow in front of you and you could speak properly. “I love when mommy fucks me with her cock,” you drolled out between moans. “I’m… mommy’s needy cockslut.”

Your wording awakened something within your stepmother and her fingernails dug into your hips. She slid out of you and turned you around. She repositioned the both of you so she was laying down, one elbow holding herself up. With your leash around her knuckles, she tugged you forward as if you were a dog so you had to crawl up her legs and up her body.

It made your whole body thrum with a warm heat as you watched how Wanda looked at you, with unabashed hungry desire — and all for you. She placed her hands on your hips and had you sit on her cock, your thighs straddling her hips and your hands on your knees. She smiled at your strained little face as you took her thick cock into you again.

“I would like to see you without this now.” Wanda reached up and you leaned forward to allow her to reach your torso. She undid your bra and wrapped her arms around your waist, bringing you forward to allow her to wrap her lips around one of your nipples.

Her warm hands moved up the smooth curve of your back as she kissed your breasts and then up to your neck. She straightened you back up and sat herself up so she could reach back and unclip her own bra.

A hand came to the back of your head and she led you towards her breasts, and you wrapped your lips around one of her nipples. A soft, relieved sigh escaped from your stepmother’s lips and she laid down flat against the bed.

As you suckled from Wanda, she placed her hands on your hips and began moving you up and down along her cock, guiding you into riding her. Your warm exhales warmed her breasts and hardened her nipples and she brought you closer. “Always so gentle with mommy,” she said and kissed the top of your head.

Gently, she straightened you up again and made you part from her breasts. “I want to see you ride, Y/N,” she told you and placed her hands on your hips. “Come on, baby. Make mommy happy. Let me see my little girl come.” She let go of your leash and let you ride her freely, at times pulling you down onto her hips harshly when she wanted to see you yelp — which she quite frequently did.

“That’s right,” she encouraged. Her eyes shut in pleasure as the rolling of your hips ground the base of Wanda’s strap against her clit. When shopping for which toys to use with you, Wanda had been curious about a different kind of harness that was positioned a bit lower than what was typical, so it allowed for more stimulation against the wearer’s clit. She was rather pleased with how well it was working for her.

Her hands worked at keeping your hips rolling forward, and even you seemed to be reaching closer and closer to orgasm, resulting in your speed quickening and with greater force as you came back down and met her hips.

“M-Mama…” you moaned out. “I’m gonna come.”

“It’s alright, baby,” she permitted. “Come for mommy. Let me see my good girl. Come here.” She moved her hands up your sides and wrapped her arms around your waist as she pulled you down and rolled on top of you. Her hand cupped the side of your face and she thrusted into you as you laid on your back, your thighs tightening around her.

Wanda’s forehead laid against yours as she moaned, her hips thrusting in a slightly upwards movement as well as forward so she was able to rub herself against the base of her strap. You watched with your eyes half-open as mommy seemed to inch closer to her own orgasm.

Your arms wrapped around her waist and Wanda grasped as the side of your ass, pulling you up against her desperately as she sought the pleasure of fucking you at the same time as grinding her sensitive clit against her strap. Her hips quickened and your moans meshed together in time with the slapping of skin below your sweaty bodies.

Naturally, with how sensitive she had built you up to be from the moment she began, you came first. Wanda raised her head to watch as you came for her, and she stroked your cheekbone with her thumb supportively, whispering out gently, “That’s right, honey. Come for mommy. Let it all out. I’m here.”

Wanda came second, just in time before her thrusting would have become overstimulating for you. She buried her face in your neck and you wrapped your arms around her warm body. Her shampoo smelled so good, and the way she moaned against your skin sent her warm breath down your clavicle and brushed her soft lips against your neck.

You loved when mommy came like this — all close to you so you could hug her and make her feel cared for just like she always did for you.

“Mommy, are you okay?” you asked when Wanda came down from her climax and was gently panting against your neck. You felt her nod and she tightened her arm’s hold around your waist.

“I’m feeling perfectly fine, my angel.” She pressed kisses to your jawline and up to the lobe of your ear as she slipped from your body and brought you against her body. “I feel happy.”

With her other hand, she undid her harness and lifted her hip from the bed so she could slip it off of her body and place it where the rest of your lingerie and the bottle of lube were laying. Then, she took your headband off and your collar too.

When the two of you had been cuddling together laying together, warm under the bed’s blankets and talking about how much you’d been enjoying your time together so far, you lifted yourself onto your elbow. “Wanda, I brought a gift for you,” you said, proudly and with a smile. “I want you to open it early, while it’s just the two of us.”

Wanda smiled at you and ran her hand up and down your side. “Do you? Shall I close my eyes while you get it?”

You nodded and Wanda smirked at how adorable you looked when you were excited. Then she closed her eyes and sat up a bit against the pillow and the headboard, the blankets wrapped around her body comfortably.

She listened as you stepped off of the bed and went through your bag. She heard the crinkling of some wrapping paper as you took the gift from your back and lept back into bed, making Wanda laugh as you hurriedly tucked yourself back under the sheets with her — but she kept her eyes closed like she promised.

“Okay, open your eyes now,” you said and laid the gift down in her lap.

The wrapped gift was a rectangular shape wrapped in light pink wrapping paper patterned with gingerbread houses and tiny gingerbread men, with a glittering silver bow wrapped around the gift. Beneath it, was a thin cardboard gift tag that wrote: ‘For Wanda.’

Wanda smiled warmly at the sight of it, and she smiled and scooted herself close to you so your bodies were pressed against each other. She rested her head on your shoulder and began opening the gift.

What was beneath the wrapping paper was revealed to be a book, and when Wanda fully opened it to see what it was, she felt herself melt completely. “Y/N…” she whispered quietly, running her eyes down the details of the book’s cover and its perfect preservation.

“It’s a first edition copy,” you told her, carefully opening the cover and pointing to the print date of 1950.

Many months ago, Wanda told you of how she often had to move around with her family, often displaced by the war in Sokovia, and unable to secure permanent housing due to her family’s financial situation. During the many moves, her family was often forced to leave a majority of their things behind, especially once they found a route to America.

One of the things Wanda had lost was her copy of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, her very favorite book during her childhood. At home, she had a small statue on the living room bookshelf of a lion that reminded her of the book, but other than that, she’d never bought herself another copy.

It wouldn’t be the same, she told you, if she bought the book for herself in order to replace the old one, for it had been a gift from her late parents when she was young.

“Y/N, thank you,” she said, setting the book down on her lap and wrapping her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “You really have no idea how much this means to me. This is such a special gift.” She sounded tearful as she spoke against the side of your head.

“I love you, Wanda.”

She pulled away and quickly swiped at her eyes to kiss you. “I love you so much, Y/N,” she spoke against your lips and kissed you again, and again against your cheek and then against your temple and your forehead. “I love you so, so much.”

It’d been so long since Wanda immigrated to America. Her parents had passed years ago and though she often spoke with Pietro, she saw him most commonly during the holidays and sometimes during the summers. As such, sometimes Wanda forgot parts of even her own life — parts of herself.

It wasn’t at all that she forgot about her childhood and her life before America, but more so that as life went on and as she grew and aged, she thought less and less about such things in the past.

She cried after she received the gift while you comforted her, and she told you how much she missed her parents and how she felt guilty for not having thought of them and Sokovia for some time.

“Can you read the book to me, Wanda?” you asked once Wanda had stopped crying, but was still laying her head against your chest. She looked at you and smiled when you met her eyes in affirmation.

For the rest of the night, you laid in bed with Wanda, your head on her shoulder as she read the book to you. She had only ever read it in Sokovian, and she kept mentioning things about the English translation and how it was interesting how things were worded differently between the two languages. She recalled memories of her family and of Sokovia as she went through the chapters — when her parents had read the book to her and how she would be read to while laying in bed with Pietro before bed, and anything else that came to mind as she spoke of her childhood and her family.

You could tell how happy it made her to recall all those things, and also, how happy it made her that she was reading the book to you.

There was something really special about recalling and reawakening such memories with you; it was true that she couldn’t ever revisit the past nor speak with her parents again, but it was something rather special to share all of this with you. She couldn’t get it back, but she could keep it all alive, and that could truly only be done if shared with someone she loved.

With the gentle flakes of snow falling outside the hotel window, illuminated by the warm light of the nightstand by the bed and contrasted by the dark moonlit skies of the evening, Wanda spent that night sharing with you what she shared with no one else — what she would never share with anyone else.

To share such precious memories with you was to make them all eternal. It could only be you, after all.

Wanda had forgotten important parts of herself, only to find them within you. Love has a unique ability to do that — giving you a map of yourself, and a home within another.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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slytherinslut0 · 7 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter One. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: Sub/Dom, Toxic Behaviour, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Begging, DubCon, CNC.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

You were a good girl, and an exemplary student. One who consistently demonstrated exceptional discipline and commitment. Your dedication to academics was unwavering, as you diligently followed the rules and guidelines, never straying from the prescribed path.

Your singular focus was on nurturing your intellectual curiosity, and you showed no interest in indulging in activities that might distract you from your educational pursuits. Your life was calm, quiet, and focused.

Until, one day everything fucking changed.

———

In the enchanted realm of Hogwarts, there resided a studious and exceptionally bright seventh-year Ravenclaw witch, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and her steadfast commitment to the noble pursuit of knowledge. This young sorceress, a paragon of virtue, refrained from the temptations that often lured her peers, steering clear of parties, alcohol, and the haze of smoke that veiled the Ravenclaw common room during clandestine gatherings.

Her life was meticulously ordered, her goals sharply defined. But the universe had a curious sense of humor, for it threw her into an unexpected affiliation with the most notorious bad boy in Slytherin:

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He, the embodiment of rebellion, was a stark contrast to her pristine existence. Mattheo's reputation preceded him: a Slytherin troublemaker, one who was almost always found in the midst of chaos. His devil-may-care attitude was a challenge to authority, and there was not one singular individual that could tie him down.

Yet, fate had woven their paths together, forcing the astute young witch to confront the complexity of human nature, unraveling layers of his defiance while simultaneously testing the boundaries of her own steadfast resolve.

And that witch; that poor fucking witch--well, that was you.

———

"Please, Riddle...if you'd take a seat," you ran your tongue along the backside of your teeth, straightening your posture in your chair as you tried to contain your irritation. "...I must express my desire to commence our endeavors prior to the conclusion of the academic term."

"Eager, are we?" Mattheo sneered, sauntering toward the desk painfully fucking slow. "You know, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is mastery. I'll sit when I'm fuckin' ready to sit."

His voice was low, the sadistic drawl of his tone making your bones ignite with fury. Gods, he certainly fucking loved testing you.

"And I won't tell you again...call me Mattheo."

You inhaled a sharp breath, flattening out your blue uniform skirt against your thighs as you bit your tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

"Rome may not have been built in a day, but it certainly collapsed in one--now, I won't ask again, Riddle..." you looked up, meeting his dark obsidian eyes, fighting back a sadistic smirk of your own as he narrowed his gaze in challenge. "Take. A. Seat."

The words were clipped behind your teeth with an obvious urgency that shut Mattheo up for a few seconds, the gears turning inside his head as he contemplated how he could one up your little jab--a constant occurrence that seemed to happen every single fucking time you met with him.

At this point, your tutor sessions were an easy seventy percent bickering with the remaining thirty being a half-assed session of one-sided discussion where he mostly offers you fleeting blank stares while zoning you out. You hated that you'd agreed to this, but you knew you needed to get on (and remain on) Professor Dumbledores good side if you wanted a career here at the school after you graduated--and you were so fucking hungry for it you'd do almost anything to solidify your fate.

Even if it meant surrendering your sanity to the hands of Mattheo fucking Riddle.

You chose not to let him, of all individuals, tarnish your path. Your reputation, fragile as it may have been, resembled a tinderbox, and he was the combustible element, ready to erupt at any given moment. This resolve became your steadfast anchor, shaping the direction of your choices.

"You know," Mattheo said as he finally slumped down into the chair across from you, his tousled brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. "I was under the impression that the brilliant Ravenclaws such as yourself valued intellect over impulsive haste..." he tilted his head, his gaze scanning every movement of your body as you stared at him. "It was my understanding that impatience was more of a Gryffindor trait."

Your fingers trembled with palpable irritation, yet you understood the imperative need to suppress it. You couldn't afford to reveal just how deeply he affected you, realizing that acknowledging it would subject you to endless taunts and jibes, a fate you were determined to avoid at any cost. This restraint became your shield in moments such as these.

"You wish to discuss house values, Riddle?" You tilted your head, straightening out your posture once again. "Because I, in complete honesty, was under the impression that Slytherins were known for their resourcefulness...your reluctance to cooperate suggests a rather curious lack of ambition."

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his expression growing icier. "Resourcefulness doesn't mean blindly following every stupid instruction thrown at you, and ambition means choosing the battles worth fighting, not wasting time on pathetic, trivial matters."

With a subtle smirk, he leaned back, hooking his arm on the back of his chair as he eyed your discomfort--seemingly undisturbed by your challenge--and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, somehow knowing he wasn't finished.

And of course, he wasn't. "If you really believe this seemingly-stubborn insistence on when or if I sit reflects a lack of ambition, you clearly misunderstand the depths of Slytherin cunning. We pick our battles wisely, and right now, this isn't one of them."

Your blood pressure surged, the crimson currents in your veins reaching their boiling point. Months of enduring relentless bickering and one-upmanship had pushed you to the edge--this man may be an utter degenerate but he certainly knows how to use his mouth when it matters. You could no longer bear the weight of this incessant game, and in a fleeting moment of frustration, you finally succumbed to the pressure.

You knew this was your breaking point.

"I'm just trying to fucking help you." You said, before you even realized you had. You hardly ever cussed, never out loud--that is. "If you don't want to be here, then get out. I promise you, you won't be hurting my feelings if you do."

He huffed, leaning forward and crossing his hands together on top of the desk as he wet his stupidly plush lips, a devilish grin swallowing his cheeks while he revelled in the fact he'd so clearly fucking won. Yet again.

"No," he said. "I don't think I will."

You clucked your tongue, irritated even further at his response, gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly before you rolled your eyes--brushing off his suffocating arrogance and pulling your textbook out of your bag, slamming it down on top of the desk between your bodies.

"The Grimoire of Arcane Relics?" Mattheo read the title out loud, voice laced with a confused, almost offended undertone. "We don't cover this until the middle of second term..."

You cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Seems a bit...hasty, to shove this down my throat so early on," his voice carried a sadistic drawl that nearly made you leap across the desk and choke him unconscious. This man knew how to fucking test you. "Would it not be far more beneficial to proceed in the order the books are taught?"

You drew in another swift breath, the fabric of your navy robes clinging to your form, trembling fingers smoothing out any wrinkles on your button-up blouse as you adjusted it.

"I was unaware..." you said, not bothering to look up. "...that the individual I'd be tutoring this term was in fact a professor, and not a seventh year student..." you glimpsed him now, offering him merely but a slight tilt of your head as you watched his jaw tense. "...I must have been ill-informed, do pardon my ignorance."

"A moment of self-awareness? What a fucking breakthrough for you, Raven...pity it took you so long." He was clasping his hands together on top of the desk with enough force to involuntarily crack his knuckles. "Maybe there's hope for you yet, though I wouldn't hold my fucking breath."

"Please don't," you said, teeth gritting. "We wouldn't want to deprive your already-oxygen-starved brain of any more, now would we? It needs all the help it can get."

Mattheo's gaze sharpened, his lips curving into a teasing smirk, highlighting the scars that adorned them. The effect he had on you was undeniable, a sensation you longed to dismiss more than anything. However, with every passing moment in his presence, resisting the pull of attraction became an increasingly futile endeavour--yes, he was suffocatingly arrogant, but Gods, he was fucking attractive.

And he knew it.

"Quite the fucking mouth on you, I'll admit..." he dropped his voice to a low whisper, so deep it practically rattled your bones as it vibrated through you. "Never met a Ravenclaw with such an attitude problem...maybe I could tutor you on how to fix that issue, once we're done here, of course."

Your stomach twisted, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire. Curse him and his painstakingly arrogant charm. Curse him to bloody hell.

"It'd be a cold day in hell before I take any sort of guidance from you, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice accidentally reverberating as a seductive pitch. "And even then, I'd probably still refrain."

"You don't know when to shut the fuck up, do you?..." his eyes darkened, an evil mischief crawling its way through his irises. "What would daddy Dumbledore think about the way you're speaking to me, huh?"

Your heart stalled. "I-"

Your words faltered as Mattheo stood up, moving leisurely like a predatory creature circling its prey, until he was right beside you. His eyes, sharp as daggers, bored into your skull, and he loomed over you, a sadistic smirk twisting his lips into a cruel curve. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, knotting your stomach with an unsettling mix of fear and desire.

He placed a singular hand on your desk, leaning down closer to your level. "Perhaps I pay him a little visit...perhaps I tell him that you've been missing lessons, that you've been extremely unprofessional...perhaps I somehow fail my next exam...perhaps-"

"Okay, okay!" You panicked, cutting him off. "You've made your point, Riddle...I'm sorry, okay?" The words were fucking painful as you forced them past your teeth, and you swallowed your ego, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Let's just get this over with, please?"

Mattheo huffed, gratified by how effortlessly his threats appeared to compel your submission. The gears turned in his head as he grasped the extent of the power he truly wielded over you. He fully understood that your entire post-graduate career almost certainly depended on his decisions, and he was eagerly anticipating taking action.

"I like the way you say please..." his voice was breathless, his dark eyes consumed by something you couldn't really identify as he slumped down in the chair directly next to you, his sight never once leaving yours. "Do it again."

Your body tensed, immobilized as he inched closer, his penetrating eyes scrutinizing your features with intense focus. It was no secret that Mattheo had been oblivious to your existence until he was placed under your guidance--despite being the most popular Slytherin student in the school, you, a practically invisible Ravenclaw, were easy to overlook. It had taken him over three weeks to even remember your name, a fact he never bothered to acknowledge, let alone use.

But within that time frame, within the time you'd been tutoring him; as much as he drove you mentally fucking insane, you couldn't deny that every time he'd show up for lessons with torn knuckles, cut lips and alcohol radiating from his breath--you couldn't help but to feel something in the pit of your stomach.

Whether that sensation was disgust, arousal, or sheer terror, you couldn't quite pinpoint. It was a feeling that whispered in your veins, urging you to surrender to the dominance he held over you. It screamed for you to let him have his way without resistance, because just as he commanded your obedience, he wielded the same control over the entire damn school. The prospect of defying him felt like a dangerous game you weren't willing to play.

"Riddle-"

He tilted his head, his face dangerously close to yours now, his eyes peering into your soul as he stared. As he wet his lips, his breath turning shallow, you felt a feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, and one between your thighs as well.

"I said, do it again." His voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his eyes studying you as though you were a page of a textbook. Not that he'd ever read one of those. "Go on, Raven...beg for me..."

Your breath hitched, and you involuntarily clutched the edges of the wooden chair between your fingers with an indescribable force. You didn't want to admit it--not to Mattheo, not to anyone really--but you were a virgin. You'd never even kissed a boy; your entire life was devoted to your studies...so this...this was extremely fucking new to you.

When you remained silent, Mattheo's eyes darkened even further, turning a shade of obsidian so intense they put even the stormiest midnight skies to shame.

"You want me to keep your perfect little reputation intact, hm?" He breathed, leaning closer. "You want me to help you stay on Dumbledores good side?"

Your throat was more arid than the desert, and you nodded, unable to blink--unable to peel your fucking eyes off of him.

"Then do as I say..." he murmured, a large battered hand finding purchase on your thigh, your entire body involuntarily flinching at the foreign contact. "I want to hear you, Raven."

You stared down at his hand resting lazily over the fabric of your blue uniform skirt--it's massive size swallowing up almost the entirety of your thigh, calloused palm catching on the pleats as it slid upwards, agonizingly slowly--and when he paused, stretching his fingers around the diameter of your thigh the best he could, fingers digging into your flesh as he squeezed; you gasped, involuntarily, and he huffed--bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"One more chance..." he purred, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips. "You won't like what'll happen-"

"Please!" You snapped, squeezing your thighs together out of pure desperation. "Please, Mattheo...please, let's just get this over with..."

"Mm." He hummed in satisfaction, slowly pulling his hand off of you. "That's fucking right..." he murmured, warm breath tickling your ear. "Nothing is sweeter than your submission, Raven."

You swallowed, not daring to look at him, nodding your head frantically in response as he pulled away, slumping back in the chair--not once peeling his eyes off of you, spreading his legs way-too-fucking wide as he made himself comfortable--he was silent, now, watching your chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, watching the way you squirmed in your chair at his sudden dominance--a dominance that had an effect on you that you couldn't even begin to describe.

And then, before you could even realize what was happening, Mattheo leaned back in, his fingers gripping your jaw and tilting your face towards his--and as you meet his dark, intoxicating eyes, your lungs stalled, entire body shrinking in your seat as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he could see right through you.

"From now on, I'm in charge here," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Understand?"

You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, and watched his darkened amber eyes as they glanced over your lips, lingering there for far too long, before returning back up to meet your gaze--something swimming in his irises that made your stomach twist.

When you were silent, he tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Yes." You squeaked, voice barely audible. "I understand."

He hummed, a devilish smirk crawling across his lips, fingers digging into your jaw with added pressure as he pulled you closer, lips so close you'd touch with a deep enough breath.

"Understand, what?" He breathed, eyes dipping over your lips yet again. "Say my fucking name."

"Mattheo..." you couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only obey his words as though he was controlling you like a puppet on strings. "I understand, Mattheo."

He huffed, smirking. "Good girl, Raven..." his voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his full lashes fluttering as he blinked, meeting your eyes. "You learn so quickly...I should have done this months ago..."

When he pulled back, slowly releasing you, air slowly returned to your lungs; not enough to rid the dizziness from your brain but just enough to keep you conscious. Mattheo turned toward the desk now, as though nothing even happened, gesturing for you to start the lesson.

And somehow, you did.

—————-

Chapter two->

2K notes · View notes

merakiui · 3 months

Note

You're still here? —ace

(fwb dialogues)

When Ace walks into the kitchen, freshly showered and donning a spare set of clothes—clothes he's started storing at Ramshackle for 'emergency purposes'—you're half-surprised to see him.

"You're still here?"

"What? Don't wanna see this face anymore?" he teases, leaning against the counter in an effort to look perfectly cool and nonchalant.

"You just don't want Riddle to catch and collar you for sneaking in after curfew again."

"Yeah, obviously!" Ace heaves an exaggerated sigh before putting on Riddle's stern inflection. "He was all, 'You're not exempt from the curfew, Ace. If anything, it especially applies to you. Your first year is an important one. Don't squander it.' And then he made me paint the roses as punishment. How cruel can a guy be?"

"If you're Riddle, exceptionally cruel."

"Right? You get it." He locks eyes with you then. Your stare is insistent, and the longer you continue to peer at him the more he seems to shift and fidget. "W-What? Something wrong? I mean, I totally get why you're staring. Any longer and I'll have to charge you one kiss per—hey!"

Ace sputters when you drop the dishrag over his head. Before he can peel it off, you're using it to dry his still-soaked hair. "You showered quick."

"I care about saving hot water for you. Aren't I a good friend? That's gotta earn me, like, at least another kiss."

You laugh and pull the towel up to look at him. "That's the second time you've mentioned kissing. Someone's addicted."

"I've got my priorities in order. So what?" He averts his eyes, cheeks warming. "Anyways! You got anything good in the fridge? All of that worked up an appetite."

"I wish, but Grim cleaned it out earlier. I've gotta go shopping soon."

"I'll come with. Because I gotta get stuff, too!" he says, tacking that last sentence on with great haste. There's no such thing as dates between you and Ace. He's not into romance right now and neither are you. But sometimes you wonder...

"How kind of you." You beam, leaning in to press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "I'm still not gonna pay for your snacks, though. You're on your own."

"Cold-hearted..."

"Keep dreaming."

"Only if you kiss me properly."

You roll your eyes, but his roguish smirk is infectious and you can't stay away. Ace backs himself into the counter and you place your hands on either side of him to keep him there. With minimal effort, you move in and capture his lips in a real, raw kiss. It's the same routine, but something feels different tonight. The energy's abuzz with veiled feelings.

"I'm sleeping over, by the way," he mutters against your mouth, pulling you in close.

"Good. I don't want you to leave."

#twisted chit chat #meraki dialogues

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archie-sunshine · 4 months

Text

Positive Reinforcement(18+ DRIFTROD)

Fic Tags: DRIFT/RODIMUS, background Dratchrod, pov swapping, Dubious consent(in a comedy of errors sort of way), plug n play, messing with code, miscommunications, accidental voyeurism, overstimulation, cumming yourself stupid, reconditioning in a sexy fun way, oral, shower sex, apology sex

WORD COUNT: 11,600~

Synopsis:

Rodimus isn't the worst captain, but he could certainly be better! Drift believes the solution is as simple as some positive reinforcement in the form of a novelty datapatch. Non sexual positive reinforcement. ... at least he thinks its not sexual?

Excerpt: Drift was certain that Rodimus wouldn’t need that big of an adjustment. He just needed a little positive reinforcement! Drift was great at positivity.

Read on AO3 here!

____________________________

Author's notes: I'm back on my driftrod bullshit. This fic was beta'd and conceptualized with the help of @/combjelli, who i highly recommend you check out for their incredible fics!!!!

THIS FIC IS A COMEDY OF ERRORS. IT HAS ELEMENTS OF DUBIOUS CONSENT BUT ITS MOSTLY JUST STUPID.

Drift knew Rodimus better than most people. He understood incredibly well that Rodimus was stubborn, and often abrasive. Some may have described him as annoying. Drift wouldn’t say anything like that about his amica, not in a million years… but he could understand where they were coming from.

It wasn’t as if Rodimus was unfixable!! He was just… Rodimus… y. He was frequently selfless- when he wasn’t demanding money or stroking his own ego. He was deeply kind- when he wasn’t annoyed or bored. He was incredibly brave- and exceptionally stupid. Every one of Rodimus’ best traits could always be balanced out by one of his worst, but hey, it wasn’t such a bad thing to be balanced! That was very sought after, as far as personality traits went, certainly.

…

Okay so MAYBE, just maybe, Rodimus could use an attitude adjustment. And Drift wasn’t just saying that because Rodimus had paid for something stupid for the Rodpod with his money again… without telling him. Drift was incredibly forgiving, something that small wouldn’t get to him at all.

Rodimus didn’t need a terribly drastic shove or anything, just a little bit of a nudge! Drift had needed an attitude adjustment once too, and it had made him a much better, happier, more even tempered mech. The fact that his attitude adjustment had come from hitting rock bottom and then clawing his way out was neither here nor there. Drift was certain that Rodimus wouldn’t need that big of an adjustment. He just needed a little positive reinforcement! Drift was great at positivity.

It just so happened that Drift had exactly the tool for the job: a topical code patch. He’d picked it up ages ago, from some open air market. He was originally looking for something to play a prank on Ratchet, something that’d make his vocalizer three pitches too high, or make it make animal sounds. He’d actually ended up leaving with a ‘reeducation’ patch, with a programmable code housed inside to offer encouragement for preferred behaviour and discouragement for the alternative.

And so, there it sat on his desk. It was a little square of green plastic with some unobtrusive little adhesive claws around its edge, printed with a crudely drawn happy face on its surface. He’d double(and triple) checked for viruses and found it was clean, and he’d already programmed it. He felt it was pretty user friendly, even. He’d just inputted [if- Make Choices (Type: Efficient, Considerate, Kind, Tactically Sound), Complete Ordered Tasks(in timely manner), Receive Verbal Compliment = Receive Reward] and [if- Make Choices (Type: Inefficient, Selfish, Rude, Unwise), Failure/Refusal to Complete Ordered Tasks(in timely manner), Receive Verbal Reprimand = Receive Punishment]. The little chip had blinked its indicator LEDs that the patch was primed.

Drift drummed his digits on the desk. Okay. Pros and cons. The cons were that the patch was almost certainly not EDA approved, he’d found it at a novelty topical patch stall alongside other such ill advised patches as ‘immediately lose control of your legs’ and ‘gives your optic field a pink flower themed filter’.

The Pros were that Drift was CERTAIN this was what Rodimus needed to change his outlook. Even just a little bit of positive reward for doing the right thing always made Rodimus happy, he just needed a nudge to understand that ‘doing the right thing’ didn’t always mean heroically saving an entire moon from destruction, and sometimes it meant handing in his datapads on time.

Sufficiently convinced of his idea, Drift carefully picked up the patch in its casing and tucked it away into his subspace. He took a deep, relaxing vent, and began to march towards the bridge.

It was unsurprising, if disappointing, to find Rodimus on the bridge, not in his seat, but instead fragging around with one of Tailgate’s confiscated hoverboards. All the usual suspects were working at their stations, save Ultra Magnus, who seemed to graciously relax as Drift entered to relieve him of duty.

“Drift! Heyyy, check it out!” Rodimus chirped jovially, waving at him as he steadied himself on the board and attempted a kickflip. Unsurprisingly, the board spun out from under him, catching his pede as he stumbled over himself. He didn’t fall over, surprisingly, but he did stumble a bit, awkwardly snatching up the board and tucking it under his arm. “I meant to do that- anyway! What’s up?”

Drift laughed softly, shaking his helm. Oh Roddy. It was really hard to stay mad at him, though Drift suspected he might be the only bot on board that thought that. “Oh nothing, just, y’know… showing up for my shift.”

“Cool.” Rodimus grinned at him, trotting up closer to him. “Oh, take care Mags!” He called, reaching a servo up to wave as Ultra Magnus vacated the bridge. Drift casually reached into his subspace while the other mech was distracted and popped the topical patch out of its case. By the time Rodimus had turned back to face him, he’d tucked the patch claw side up in his palm and hid his servo behind his back.

Drift smiled warmly at him. “Anything of note happen while I was off shift?” He asked.

Rodimus scratched at his jaw, brow furrowing a bit in thought. “Uhhhh…. Not that I can think of- Oh! Right, yeah, we’re approaching an asteroid field in a couple hours!” Rodimus lit up as he remembered, slinging an arm around Drift’s back. “So I was thinking…”

Drift brought his servo up carefully underneath Rodimus’ spoiler, waiting for the exact right moment. “Uhuh?”

“You… me… Meteor surfing.” Rodimus paused for effect, grin broadening out as if it were the best idea he’d ever had. “Whaddaya think!?”

Drift decisively pressed the topical patch down onto Rodimus’ plating, crossing the digits on his other servo in a silent prayer that it wasn’t a dud. “Hmmm…” Drift thought for a moment, a bloom of guilt in his chassis as he grimaced. “Don’t uh… don’t you think it's a bit dangerous?”

“What, meteor surfing?” Rodimus cocked his head in confusion. “We’ve done it before like a million times, what’s so dangerous about meteor surfing?”

Drift sighed. “For the ship?”

Rodimus rolled his optics, releasing Drift from his friendly side hug and waving a dismissive servo at him. “Pfft, whatever, it’s handled worse than a couple- Ah-!” Rodimus jolted suddenly, then froze.

Slag. Drift played it cool, folding his arms over his chassis casually and offering Rodimus an inquisitive, yet not knowing look.

“... What was that?” Rodimus mumbled, almost to himself before turning to look Driftin the optics. “Did you say something?”

Drift clamped down on his own field. “Hm?” He hummed in blithe concern.

“... Drift?” Rodimus urged, brow furrowing.

“What’s wrong?” Drift cocked his head at him and offered a patient smile. He watched Rodimus fumble for words, opening and closing his intake. He failed to surpass the wall of boring, conversational politeness Drift had thrown up at him, opting to shake his helm and sigh. Nice, crisis averted.

“... I’m gonna sit down now.” Rodimus decided, narrowing his eyes briefly at Drift before turning and doing exactly that.

“Good idea, Captain.” Drift smiled, shuffling a little closer to the captain’s chair. He noted Rodimus’ sudden shudder at his words, once again flicking his optics to stare confusedly at his SIC. Drift kept up his polite smile and stood jovially next to the chair, offering Rodimus a little nod as he finally settled into his seat.

Rodimus shook his head again, letting out a disappointed breath and settling in.

Drift allowed himself a pang of pride. He was sure in an hour or so, Rodimus would be happily agreeing to change the ship’s course out of harm’s way.

Rodimus was… mostly certain he wasn’t going crazy. It must have been Drift that was, though. He still couldn’t believe that his amica wasn’t up for meteor surfing. That was like Drift’s… fifth favourite thing! Right after Ratchet, and Him, and Swords, and Spiritualism. It was disappointing, sure, but Drift had been painfully responsible lately, so he guessed this had something to do with that.

Harder to rationalize in his processor was the fact he swore that Drift had shocked him a few klicks ago. He also swore Drift had said something like ‘So close! Try again, Rodimus’ when he’d done it too, which was really fragging weird. He hadn’t acknowledged it when pressed.

Weirder still was when he’d, first, complimented him on his idea to sit down, and then, apparently said ‘Nice Going! Keep it up!’. For some reason, him saying that had made Rodimus suddenly warm and fuzzy for a second. He’d, again, looked at drift, trying to show his confusion, and gotten nothing back.

So Rodimus wasn’t sure if it was him going insane, or if it was Drift. He settled into his seat, wriggling to get comfortable and leaning back against the back of the seat. The sea of stars and planets stretched ahead of them. The infinite beauty of open space was getting old to look at with no giant rocks flying past. He allowed himself a giddy smile at the thought of meteor surfing. Drift hadn’t been up for the idea, but Rodimus was sure he’d be able to convince him before they made it to the asteroid field.

He was beginning to zone out into his fantasies of meteor surfing when, again, he felt a sudden bolt of pain zap into his frame, lighting up his tactile sensors all at once for the briefest of moments. He glanced around when again, he heard Drift speak.

[A good captain pays attention!]

Rodimus blinked. He was certain that voice had come from Drift, but it sounded even more like it was inside of his processor. Had he really lost it? Was Drift astral projecting into his brain? No. That didn’t sound right. Rodimus chanced one more glance at Drift. His amica was apparently busy gazing out the observation window at the stars.

Rodimus sighed a bit and leaned back even more into his chair. He leaned his chin into his servo, pensively squinting out the observation window. If he REALLY looked he could just barely see the beginnings of the asteroid field coming into view, or at least, he could see the planet it was surrounding.

Rodimus bounced his leg impatiently. He checked his chronometer and cursed internally. He still had like 2 thirds of his shift left. He was sure even if Drift didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t mind… say… keeping an eye on things while he did some light meteor surfing. He usually didn’t have problems with that anyway.

He reset his vocalizer, turning casually to Drift to ask him. “Say, Drift-?” Rodimus only got 2 words deep into his request when he felt another buzz of electricity jolt through his frame. He grit his teeth, biting back a yelp of pain.

[So close! Try again, Rodimus!]

“Hm?” Drift hummed, turning to face his amica with a patient smile.

“... Uh…” Rodimus started, manually resetting his optics as he tried to process what the hell was going on. “... You um… You really didn’t feel like meteor surfing?” Rodimus tried, bracing himself for another shock.

Drift seemed to think for a moment, his brow ridges coming together sympathetically. “Oh… Listen, you know I love meteor surfing with you… but it’s just a little irresponsible to do it at the risk of damaging the ship, don’t you think?”

Rodimus couldn’t fully tell, but it seemed like Drift was taking a tone with him. It wasn’t exactly mean, but it sounded kind of… chiding. It reminded Rodimus of being taught something. The thought made his plating itch. “... Um… We could go under the field by a bit, and then you and I could-” Rodimus started. He tensed, his digits tightening around the arm of the captain’s chair as another shock hit.

[So close! Try again, Rodimus!]

Rodimus grit his dentas. “I mean, maybe… We could wait to go… meteor surfing… somewhere safer?” Rodimus ground out. His optics flickered a bit as a wash of tingling pleasure came over his frame. He covered up the weak sigh of enjoyment he gave with a cough.

[Very good! Keep it up!]

Drift beamed at him, tilting his head fondly. “I think that sounds like a great plan, Roddy.”

Rodimus’ body lit up again, a shudder running up from his pedes to the tips of his finials. He made an active effort to keep his vocalizer from producing any undignified noises, clamping his intake shut tightly and readjusting himself in his seat.

[Nice one! Good job, Rodimus!]

“Pff- yeah… ‘course it is. I’m chock full of great plans.” Rodimus scoffed, a confident smirk tugging at his dermas.

The two of them once again settled into comfortable quiet for a moment. It… did feel nice for Drift to agree with him on his plans. He wasn’t sure if his code was glitching and making him extra moral today or something, but he wasn’t about to mention it. It’d just mean he would get that concerned look from Drift that he always did and an undeniable demand to go see Ratchet in the medbay. As embarrassing and weird as it was, it wasn’t worth the trouble to deal with.

Drift cleared his vocalizer after a few klicks. “... So, the course change?” He prompted.

Oh yeah. Rodimus reset his vocalizer to catch the navigator’s attention. “Hey, can you adjust the ship’s course out of the asteroid field’s path?” Rodimus felt that shudder wash over him again, a little stronger this time, warming him from his tanks outwards. He, again, covered the little pleasured noise with a cough. Distantly, he worried if it was convincing enough.

[Great choice, Rodimus!]

“... Of course, captain.” The navigator said slowly, seeming a little bewildered by the request.

Rodimus nodded a little. His intake felt dry. Was it warmer on the bridge than usual? “Uhm- In fact, uh… Could you tell me the ship’s current heading again? I’d like to know if,” He glanced at Drift briefly, trying to note if there were any movements to indicate if he was responsible for these untoward feelings. “... if there are any other… obstacles we should be worried about…”

Not so much as a twitch from the other bot as another sizzling wave of pleasure came over his frame.

[Very good, Rodimus!]

Rodimus could feel his panels starting to heat up. He crossed his legs quickly.

“Absolutely, sir! So, from our current course, it looks like we should be relatively safe, aside from the asteroid field. If we adjust the trajectory by-”

Rodimus had zoned out, but nodded along pleasantly. He pawed around his processor. There had to be some code out of place, maybe he really should go see Ratchet.

Rodimus swallowed dryly. Well… it wasn’t so bad… It was weird and kind of embarrassing but…

“Alright then, yes, let's adjust our trajectory to take us…” Rodimus thought for a moment, before pointing at the star map display ahead of them. “Between those two planets there. You said they were uninhabited right?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Okay, then through there it is.” Rodimus concluded. He bit down on his own glossa as another hot wave rolled over him. He dismissed the prompt to open his panels and leaned back, a little stiffer than usual.

[Great work, Rodimus!]

Drift laid a gentle servo on his shoulder pauldron. Rodimus absently reached up to brush his digits against it, blinking a bit before turning to look at his amica. The affectionate, proud smile on his face made Rodimus’ tanks feel funny.

Rodimus smiled back, trying to keep the strain out of his field as he did.

This had to be the best 15 shanix Drift had ever spent. He could count on both servos the amount of times Rodimus had been this work oriented! And with such wise choices. He didn’t want to seem braggy, but Drift believed he’d earned a pat on the back.

“And so- Uhuh… and no other transmissions?” Rodimus muttered, hanging over Blaster’s shoulder as he looked over the datapad he had provided.

Drift beamed to himself, readjusting his servos to rest on his sword’s scabbards. This was such a good idea. Rodimus nodded, patting Blaster on the shoulder and muttering a quick, “Keep up the good work!” before turning on his heel strut and awkwardly marching back towards the captain’s seat.

Drift opened his mouth to offer Rodimus a compliment as he passed, however- The expression on Rodimus’ face was… strained. Tense, but a little absent. His optics darted about his amica’s frame, taking in quick details as he approached. His plating was slick with coolant in places, his movement jerky and unfocused, and his optics flickering.

“Roddy-?” Drift began, cocking his head with concern as he shifted closer.

“Wuh?” Rodimus turned to look at him, leaning a little too heavily against the arm of the captain’s chair and casually crossing one leg over the other.

“... Are you feeling alright?” Drift asked. He was trying very hard not to let his processor run, which felt impossible considering the apparent distress Rodimus was under. He monitored his own venting, making sure they didn’t kick on too fiercely at the thought that Rodimus was unwell. He had to remain cool, especially in a situation where he might have to act.

Rodimus’ field clamped back. Not a good sign. He made a face, optics going a little wide and tracing along a very interesting bit of wall geometry conveniently over Drift’s shoulder. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment before popping his intake open with a click. “... Yeah!” he said unconvincingly, straightening up stiffly and putting his servos on his hips. “Never better, why?”

“Oh- just asking.” Drift shrugged a bit, trying to seem unconcerned. It felt impossible. He cleared his vocalizer a bit, rocking on his heels. He could feel the anxious energy crackling in his frame. He tried for a compliment as Rodimus shifted to sit down. “You’ve been doing really great today by the way.” He offered a warm little smile.

Drift felt himself tense up as Rodimus’ optics dimmed at his words, jaw briefly going tight and frame quivering for a moment. He half slipped and half sat down into the captain’s chair, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. Drift could’ve sworn he heard Rodimus’ fans click on for a moment before being manually turned off. “Nnnmmh-! That’s nice of you to say!” Rodimus replied, voice choked in his throat as his digits gripped the arms of the chair.

Drift’s servo went tight on the edge of his scabbard. He fought for something to say. It was beginning to dawn on him that the correlation between Rodimus’ strange- if not unwelcome- change in behaviour and his odd twitching and sweating and vocal tics may become incredibly obvious to the rest of the bridge. It also was occurring to him that there were several steps in his plan that could have been more thorough, i.e. getting any more specific information on the patch from the seller before slapping it onto his best friend and partner.

Drift wracked his processor for anything he could remember about processor viruses being passed through patches. It was obviously common, painfully common, stupidly common, but nothing in Drift’s antivirals had pinged when he’d scanned the patch, nor had any malicious lines of code come back. Was he just not thorough enough?

His optics darted back to Rodimus. The look he had was familiar, but Drift couldn’t place it. He was leaning almost languidly back in the seat, one of his servos cupped pensively over his chin and lips. His pose portrayed a feigned pensiveness, but the knit of his brow was too light for that, the look in his optics too vacant. Strangest of all, Rodimus was entirely still.

Drift swallowed. “... Rodimus?”

“Mmmm?” Rodimus hummed, suddenly jolting again before sitting up fully and folding his hands in his lap. “What’s up?” He added.

Drift fought for the right words again. “... You’re sure you’re okay?”

Rodimus frowned, rolling his optics. “I’m peachy, Drift-” He began, almost imperceptibly tensing before cracking a jovial, but forced smile. “I uh- appreciate the concern but… I’m just feeling…” He seemed to be tiptoeing, staying careful as if he were talking down an armed combatant. “... very… helpful! Today!” He nodded, as if also convincing himself.

Drift’s brow furrowed deeper, grinding his dentas with stress. If that didn’t confirm it was the patch doing this, he didn’t know what could. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him for being such a careless friend, putting something so dangerous on his amica. Drift glanced around, surveying if anyone present was listening. He winced. Half the bridge were stealing glances at them, clearly befuddled by Rodimus’ sudden change in leadership style.

Drift leaned down a bit, trying not to feel awful when Rodimus flinched back a bit. He opened his intake, about to speak when Rodimus quickly held up a digit, optics going glassy as he seemingly read a ping in his processor.

He watched Rodimus bite down an annoyed groan. It was endearing to see his vocalizer rumble a little in his throat cabling. “Listen, Its-” Rodimus measured his words again, “It’s really… conscientious of you… to be so concerned… but! I promise I’m just fine. Now, Ultra Magnus left some datawork in my office that I have to go finish.” Rodimus said, voice soured with false pep.

“Oh- Yeah-!” Drift nodded, leaning back and clearing his vocalizer again. “Do you want me to keep an eye on things while you do that?”

Rodimus paused as he stood up, a look of panic briefly appearing before washing away under another wave of fake polite contentment. “Oh- uh- if you- If that’s not um-” He babbled, his frame tightening again. This time, a brief lick of excess charge arced between Rodimus’ lips. Drift felt his face flush a bit. “I- think. That would be… a really good idea.” He seemed to tense again, his smile looking more like bared teeth as he grit the words out.

Rodimus began to shuffle across the bridge, almost exaggerating his stride as he made his way to his office. Drift watched the door slide closed behind him and turned his attention back through the windshield of the ship. Anxiety was eating him alive at this point. He tried his absolute hardest not to let the guilt consume him before he found a solution, so he worried his lip between his dentas a bit and took a deep, calming vent, before composing his message.

[D: Hey, honey. So, hypothetically speaking, what are the chances of a topical datapatch having an as of yet unknown virus on it that can go undetected by an up to date antiviral scan?]

Drift fidgeted for a moment, before adding:

[D: And does the answer change if the datapatch cost 15 shanix?]

He let out a long sigh, attempting to cool his spiraling processor and offlining his optics. He assured himself that even though he’d made a mistake, there was nothing that Ratchet couldn’t fix, medically speaking. He allowed himself to settle into a bit of a meditative state, drawing in a calming vent.

[R: What the frag did you do?]

Okay, Rodimus was now PRETTY sure…. He knew what was going on. He wasn’t sure why, or exactly how, but somehow, Drift was behind this. He was just way more complimentary than normal, and considering that apparently, somehow, compliments from Drift- or anyone, so it seemed- made him feel aroused, he was pretty sure this was just some kinky sex thing Drift had wanted to try but been too shy to warn him about. Under most circumstances, Rodimus might have thought that was a bad thing, communication was important in a relationship, even if Drift could be cagier than a zoo sometimes.

Under the current circumstances, his lust-addled brain believed it was actually a very very good, very very sexy thing. He could probably do without his array being stimulated in response to doing his job, but he figured it was some part of an elaborate roleplay he would be let in on soon.

Rodimus let his mind wander, an indulgent smirk stretching across his face as he considered all the sexy ways Drift would likely be messing with him once he told him what was up.

Another shock jerked through his frame, stronger this time, making Rodimus’ leg kick up involuntarily. Rodimus hissed as he banged his knee on the underside of his desk, gripping the dented spot and putting his forehelm down on the desk for a moment to groan in anger.

[Don’t lose focus on your work, Rodimus!] Drift’s voice chirped jovially in his processor. Rodimus felt curse words bubbling up in his vocalizer, opening his intake to let some free when he received another shock before the first syllables escaped.

[A good captain is polite to his crew!]

“There’s no crew in here!!” Rodimus hissed out to himself, sitting back up and snatching the datapad he was working on off the table.

Okay, so there were some parts of this whole arrangement that were distinctly unsexy, but he figured when his shift was over he could bother Drift about how lame the premise of his fantasy was. For now, the win conditions seemed pretty simple: pretend to care about his job-

ZAP[So close! Try again, Rodimus!]

… Do his job well for a whole shift, get rewarded when he’s good, get zapped when he’s bad.

It was just difficult to judge what Drift- and by extension, the program that had wormed its way into his processor- considered good and bad behaviour. So far he had worked out that getting complimented was a guarantee at a reward, as was… sadly… doing his actual job in a more ‘responsible’ and ‘efficient’ way. Rodimus idly tapped at the datapad, doing his best(ish) to focus on the glyphs in front of him as he perused the form. He was pretty sure it was a request from Ultra Magnus that he’d slipped into his datawork, something about an added rule to the ship surrounding the proper conduct of bringing new scientific specimens on board. Rodimus was frankly disinterested. He could feel his array urging him to slack a bit and tend to it. Rodimus already knew what doing so would earn him though.

He signed off on the form, checking a solid ‘No’ for the approval of the rule before setting the datapad aside. Rodimus allowed himself an indulgent little moan at the tingling feeling that washed over his frame. His visual field went rimmed with static for a moment. The arousal clung to his frame, sticky and hot in his tanks as he swallowed the drool in his salivating intake.

[Great work, Rodimus! Reward strength increased by 20%! Let’s do another!]

Rodimus rocked himself in his seat. He could feel his valve attempt to cycle down, nothing there to squeeze as it helplessly lubricated itself further. Rodimus reached for another datapad and began to scroll through it. Ah, another beautiful form for… something. Release form? Rodimus squinted at it. Boy, it was getting hard to focus. He pressed his thighs together around his panels and rocked a little harder. His optics flickered. He could feel his mesh pressing up against the heated metal of his modesty panels, slick enough to offer little friction. It was maddening.

ZAP![Don’t lose focus on your work, Rodimus!]

Right, yes. Rodimus needed to work. He looked back at the datapad, grinding his dentas together as he swallowed the whimper of pain that came with the shock. His spoiler was quivering against his will, having spasmed from the jolt.

It looked like um…. Uh… it looked like it was supposed to be some… form for… time off? OH! A time off request! Rodimus scrolled through it to look for the designation of who had asked. He raised his brows in surprise when he realized it was Ultra Magnus again. He smirked to himself as he approved it and sent it off. How nice of him it was, to give the big guy a break-

[Great job, Rodimus!]

Rodimus huffed out steam, curling over the datapad and gritting his dentas as another shiver ran up his back strut. He was doing really great. Maybe this was the real reward for being selfless. He decided that probably wasn’t a very altruistic way of looking at things, but then also decided that in the context of whatever weird kink scene Drift was running for him, it didn’t really matter.

He leaned his cheek against the top of his desk and let his optics go offline. Rodimus tried to remember how many datapads he’d completed before getting distracted- he thought it was 7, which was a new record for him- and tried to weigh that number against how much he wanted to take a break to… take care of business. He nibbled at his lip quietly, letting one of his servos slip down between his thighs.

ZAP![That can wait until after your shift! Keep up the good work!]

Rodimus whimpered. It was an undignified little noise, one he couldn’t help as pain skittered over his plating. He shakily reached out to the pile of other datapads and began to scroll through. He could feel that almost ASMR like tingle of a code rooting around his processor. That probably wasn’t a good sign, but again, if this was Drift’s doing, as he suspected it was, he would be perfectly fine.

[More motivation needed?] [Accept] [Deny]

Rodimus considered the prompt, shivering again at the way they rang in Drift’s voice.

[Acceptance Confirmed!]

Rodimus choked down a groan as his sensors lit up again, to a low, thrumming degree. It wasn’t anything too terribly intense, but it was constant now, rather than the quick rolling pulses from before. He ground his dentas together, his vocalizer clicking and whining with static.

[Let’s do another datapad!]

Rodimus obeyed, returning his focus to the datapad and beginning to read. His processor felt slowed slightly by the sensation rolling over his frame, but he remained determined. It was uh… He thought it was another acquisition request. Primus, this was impossible. He swallowed again, trying to keep from drooling. He wasn’t about to ruin this feeling with a shock- though the shocks did feel less… annoying… than they used to. He managed to parse that it was an acquisition request for new parts for a replacement shuttle. He signed and accepted again.

[Very good, Rodimus! Increasing reward]

The feeling ratcheted up another level and Rodimus let out a delirious little laugh. He rolled his helm back to bump against the back of his chair, relaxing into the seat and letting his legs fall open. He pawed around for the next datapad.

“Hahh… Being helpful rules…” Rodimus mumbled out as he opened the datapad. A brief ripple of stronger sensation rolled over him, reminding him that, yes, being helpful was very good, and he was being a very good bot for being helpful. Rodimus chewed on his lip, trying to clear his vocalizer of the static.

A longer file this time. He tried not to feel too frustrated at it as he scrolled through. Oh, this was another one of those reminders Magnus prepared for him, something about the new intergalactic laws he’d have to remember that they’d picked up since entering this new dimension. Rodimus’ engine snarled a bit in annoyance as he skimmed the glyphs on screen disinterestedly. He found himself muttering aloud about the stupidity of it all before he could stop himself.

ZAP![Try again!]

A thin whine weasled it’s way out of his traitorous vocalizer. The mix of that pain and the continuing pleasure made him feel odd. He didn’t like how good that felt.

Rodimus was in the wrong of course, it was very nice of Ultra Magnus to put together a nice helpful document for him to remember! Everyone wanted the best for him after all, especially Mags. He’d have to thank him the next time he saw him.

Rodimus ground his dentas together. Those thoughts felt wrong in his head, but he needed to think them, he needed to because he was good and helpful and he deserved to feel good. Rodimus dutifully read through the document, reminding himself over and over that he wanted to be good when his attention began to wander. By the time he got to the checkbox to confirm it had been read, he could have cried with joy at a release from the maddening slog. He hit the checkbox and set the datapad aside.

[Good job, Rodimus! Increasing reward]

Rodimus groaned out. It felt like the increase was more intense than last time. He felt his spike attempt to pressurize, bumping against his panels as he held them shut through force of will. He was hanging on by a thread. He reached down between his legs to knead at the sensitive, overheated plating with his palm.

ZAP![You’re still on shift, Rodimus! Let’s finish another datapad!]

Rodimus keened out, pushing his servo harder against his panels. “P-Please-” He wheezed out, as if there were someone to hear him.

ZAP![You’re still on shift, Rodimus! Let’s finish another datapad!]

He could feel his mesh twitching and aching behind his panels. He pulled his hand back with a hiss, biting back a pathetic whine as it came back wet with transfluid. He felt delirious, his processor fogged with static and lust. He nabbed another three datapads and opened one.

It was supposed to be… He thought it was… Rodimus could hardly focus. The feeling had wracked up again briefly to encourage him to look at the datapad, and it had completely shattered whatever minute focus he had pulled together to even look at the pad in the first place. He let out another undignified groan, leaning back and letting his legs fall open wider as he scrolled through the near unintelligible pad. He let the other two rest on his belly and shakily gripped either side of the datapad. He brought it close to his face.

Words whipped past. New… Morale survey…. Less than…. Results… Rodimus fumbled for the approval mark, earning another shock as Drift’s voice curled around his processor. [Be sure to read thoroughly before making decisions!]

“U-uhuh-” Rodimus moaned out, “S-sorryy…” He scrolled back to the top. He managed to gather that it was a memo regarding the results of a crew morale survey and shakily hit the check mark to approve publicly revealing the results.

[Great idea, Rodimus! Keep up the good work! Increasing reward]

Rodimus cried out, unable to stifle his vocalizer as his hips jerked up against his will. His optics rebooted on their own, his visual field full of static and sparks. Embarrassingly, Rodimus felt a spurt of his own transfluid trickle out from under his panels as they quivered. He stared at the next datapad and drooled. It was blessedly short, just a brief memo informing him of the proposed time of their next refuel stop. He confirmed it and braced himself as he shakily went to place it on his desk.

[Very good, Rodimus! Increasing reward]

The datapad clattered to the ground. Rodimus hardly felt his body give out, going completely stiff as his pistons fritzed and tightened. “NNnn-uuhn-!!” Rodimus gasped out, gritting his dentas as hard as he could as his array bloomed in mind numbing pleasure. He opened his mouth again, spitting static as his sensory field was engulfed in intense pleasure.

He swore he almost rebooted when he overloaded then. His frame went tight and stiff, hips jerking and bucking as transfluid poured out around the edges of his panels. His mind felt melted, the pleasure comingling with the mild sting of another chiding shock.

[What a mess, Rodimus! You’ll have to clean that up!]

Rodimus went limp in his seat, engine purring unevenly and chassis shuddering with each vent. The voice was right, it was a mess, or rather he was a mess. He shivered.

[How are you feeling, Rodimus?] [Query: continue?] [accept] [deny]

Rodimus smiled dumbly, sinking to his knees and pawing around his subspace for a cloth.

…

[Accept]

“I-I feel… h-hah…. Helpful…” Rodimus murmured, dutifully beginning to wipe the transfluid off his floor. He felt another swell of pleasure as the strange code began its processes once again. Rodimus twitched, the feeling suddenly more intense than it probably should have been. He moaned, his oversensitive array beginning to swell again.

That was probably fine, right?

Drift had slipped away into a maintenance closet after assuring those working on the bridge had things well handled. It was at that point, with a guilty spark, that Drift finally returned the several pings Ratchet had sent him while demanding he call.

Drift cleared his vocalizer, attempting a chipper, confident tone, “Sweetspark! How’s your shift-” He started.

“What did you do, Drift?” Ratchet bit out in complete exasperation. Drift could hear the muffled sounds of the medbay at work outside of Ratchet’s office. He silently thanked whoever would hear him for his conjunx’ privacy, and silently cursed them for how good Ratchet had gotten at seeing through his acts.

“Well-” Drift began. It was like a dam broke. “I got this stupid topical datapatch from a flea market ages ago that said it was something about positive and negative reinforcement- and I figured that Rodimus had been kind of sliding into some bad habits-”

Ratchet snorted, “Sliding into them? Like they weren’t already there.” he quipped, sounding like he was half paying attention. Drift could hear shuffling, as if the medic were looking for something.

“Okay yeah, sure, this is a great time for that attitude, Ratty-” Drift hissed indignantly.

“What did you do with the patch?” Ratchet prompted, glossing over his partner’s offense.

“... I programmed it so Roddy would be rewarded for doing his job well, and punished for doing it badly-?” Drift choked out. He felt terrible, it sounded even worse when he said it out loud. Primus, he was such an idiot.

Ratchet’s beleaguered sigh didn’t help. “Alright, and what does it mean by ‘reward’ and ‘punish’.”

Drift drew a blank. He was a moron, a complete slag for brains. He hadn’t even thought to ask that. “... I don’t know- I figured it would-! I don’t know, set off a dopamine protocol or something, maybe shock him or pinch him or something if he messed up-! LOOK! I don’t know- I messed up- I think I messed up really really bad too-” He had begun to ramble, only cut off as Ratchet hushed him as gently as he possibly could manage.

“Hey, hey, now that’s not going to help anyone, there’s no need to panic. Can you describe what symptoms he’s displaying?” Ratchet asked. Were he not so panicked, Drift might have made a jab about how much better his bedside manner was when it came to him.

“I um… He seems kind of sweaty, maybe a little overheated, but nothing terrible like that… He’s kind of stiff, and he keeps shivering and jumping, like he’s skittish or something?” Drift explained. He worried his lip between his dentas and paced around the confined space restlessly.

Every moment of silence between them felt like hours as Ratchet seemed to be looking something up. “Okay… well that’s pretty… sort of general,” Ratchet mused unhelpfully. “That sounds like it could be a lot of things.”

Drift fought back a strangled, anxious whine. Clearly he hadn’t tried hard enough, considering Ratchet quickly added, “most of which are harmless or easy to fix!” In an attempt to soothe him.

“But- some are… fatal?” Drift mumbled out.

“Drift, it’s probably just a minor bug. If things get worse, you can wrangle him towards the medbay and we’ll get him looked at, alright?” Ratchet huffed out.

Drift let out a weary little sigh, stepping out of the maintenance closet. Rodimus had been in his office for almost two hours at this point. “... I’m just worried about anything powerful enough to convince Rodimus to complete his datawork.” Drift attempted the joke, knowing before it left his lips that it fell flat. Ratchet chuckled anyway.

“If you’re that scared you should check on him.” Ratchet offered.

Drift nodded to himself, despite knowing Ratchet wouldn’t pick the gesture up. “... Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that.” He sighed out, adjusting his posture and trying to casually walk towards Rodimus’ office.

“You know, you could do with doting on him less, Drift.” Ratchet continued, casually holding the conversation as he seemed to be sorting his datapads back in order. Drift opened his mouth to retort, but froze. His digits hovered over the keypad of the door, just shy of activating it.

He tipped his helm to the side, pressing his audial up against the metal as he tried to confirm what he’d thought he’d heard. A shiver ran up his backstrut to the tips of his finials as he caught the sound of a breathless moan from the other side of the door.

Rodimus’ voice was muffled and slurred, vocalizer raw as he babbled something. Drift strained his audials, muting his call with Ratchet to pick up the sounds he was hearing properly.

Drift’s tanks dropped.

“... I- ah… I love… h-helping… D-doing datawork is s-so-OH-Oh s-so helpful… I’m a h-helpful captainnnNNnhhh~!” Rodimus moaned, his noises accented by the sound of a creaking chair.

He dropped the call with Ratchet immediately, impatiently swatting the code into the control pad next to the door. His vents hitched as his odor sensors were bowled over by the scent of coolant and transfluid.

His amica was plastered against the top of the desk, kneeling in his chair as he rocked his hips back and forth. He was clutching a datapad in his shaky servos, a stylus pinched between two digits as he scrolled through it. Datapads littered the floor and desktop. It looked like more had been completed in a few hours than he’d done in the entire last decacycle.

Rodimus’ expression was vacantly content, his faceplate flushed deep with energon and slick with coolant. There was a puddle of oral solvent gathering under his chin where it laid on the desk. His optics were flickering between frighteningly dim and almost white with excess charge.

“Rodimus??” Drift spoke, his intake feeling dry.

Rodimus’ optics turned dimly to him, his smile suddenly faltering as he looked at him. “D-Drift!” He keened out weakly, forcing himself back into a smile. “D-didjou need somethin’?” he slurred out.

Drift slammed his palm on the door’s close button and rushed around the side of his desk. He could hear his energon rushing in his audials. It was worse than he thought. There was almost a puddle of transfluid under Rodimus’ desk, his panels popped lewdly open and drenched with excess fluid. Guilt roiled in Drift’s tanks. Of course it couldn’t have just been a simple overheating error. Of course it had to have completely fried Rodimus’ processor. Whenever it rained for Drift it poured, it would only make sense that the thing he’d tried to do to help his amica left him a steaming, drooling mess. He’d be lucky to get Rodimus back to the medbay before he melted, from the state of him, let alone get him properly fixed up.

“Roddy- Oh primus-!” Drift whimpered out, rushing to his side and gently taking his arm. Rodimus was hot to the touch, steam rising from his vents and lips as he clumsily reached a servo down between his legs to try and force his array back behind his panels. He jolted and twitched, letting out something that sounded dangerously close to a sob. “I am so sorry-!” Drift’s hands fumbled, slinging Rodimus’ arm over his shoulders and hauling him up off the chair.

Rodimus groaned in distress as the datapad he was working on tumbled out of his digits. “W-wait- H-hey-!” He panted out, weakly fighting against Drift’s hold. “‘M fine, I gotta- hahhnnn, f-frag- Drift, I got d-datapads to-” He felt Rodimus go tense, letting out a long, staticky whine.

Drift began to haul Rodimus towards the door, ignoring his protests as he shuffled him out into the hallway. He kept tensing and shivering, gritting his dentas as he tried to hold in those horribly undignified, horribly distracting noises. “I’m gonna get you to medbay, alright, just hold on for me, Roddy.” Drift ordered, allowing his guilt to wash off his back for a moment. He had a mission now.

“O-Okayyyy…” Rodimus huffed amenably, shakily wobbling over Drift’s side.

“Good mech, I’ll-” Drift started, cut off again as Rodimus’ knee joints gave out and he fell heavily against his side.

“A-ahah- ouuh f-frag-” Rodimus hissed, his free servo coming down to press against his now closed and oozing panels. A glob of transfluid drizzled off of his thigh and splattered on the floor.

Drift grit his dentas and reached down, deftly hauling Rodimus up into his arms. This would be faster anyway. He began to jog down the hallway, Rodimus dangling from his arms and shivering. He rolled his helm to lay against Drift’s chest, letting out a breathless whine against his plating. “Just hold on, just keep venting for me, okay?” Drift’s voice was a clipped order, not wanting to risk his words getting away from him as he ran down the hallways.

Rodimus’ chassis shook, his shoulder vents heaving and expelling steam with each breath. “O-oh primus- D-drift- This- ah- T-this is- nn-NNnGHAH!” He cried out, suddenly going tense in Drift’s arms.

“What is it-!?” Drift asked, not looking down. He couldn’t let anything distract him from getting Rodimus to the medbay before he had a full system meltdown. His question was answered when he felt a splatter of wetness hit his arm where he had cradled his amica’s thighs. Drift fought to keep his fuel pump from stopping as Rodimus moaned wantonly and gushed from his panels, leaving a splatter against the floor and Drift’s arm. Focus, focus, his partner was in distress, there was no time to think of anything else, least of all being horny over his sick amica.

He skidded around a corner, judging the quickest route to the medbay and nearly falling down a flight of stairs in his trek towards it. Rodimus couldn’t stop shaking, his vocalizer dissolved into weak clicking static and whines. He dug his digits into Drift’s plating, his hips bucking and rolling as he rode out his overload. His whole frame was sticky with coolant and transfluid, overheated so much that Drift was surprised all the fluids weren’t evaporating as quickly as they appeared.

Doors, decks, lifts, and hallways were a blur. He hardly gave any mind to the bots he passed, or the fact Rodimus was leaving a trail of transfluid through the decks. He knew when he was lucid, if he was ever lucid again, Rodimus would probably be mortified. It was easier not to think about it. He hoped he was going fast enough that the crew didn’t pay him much mind.

Drift skidded on his heel struts as he overshot the entrance of the medbay, scrambling in through the doorway. “RATCHET!” He shouted, rushing for his conjunx’ office.

Drift nearly bowled the other bot over as he shot into the room, disregarding Ratchet’s protests as he rolled Rodimus out of his arms and onto the rarely used medical slab.

“Slagging pit, Drift, what’s gotten into-” Ratchet started. He had already begun to approach the slab, his intake clamping shut as he surveyed Rodimus’ frame. The aforementioned mech seemed unaware of his own plight, his optics flickering blankly at the ceiling as he moved his intake as if to form words, even though nothing escaped his vocalizer but squealing static and unintelligible moans. Ratchet silently wheeled his desk chair over to the side of the slab and began to examine him.

Drift kept his own vents as even as he could, offlining his optics and attempting to relax himself. Things would be fine, Rodimus was in good hands, and it wouldn’t be long before everything was back to normal.

“Stop pacing, it’s distracting.” Ratchet chided, not even looking at him as he began to scan the indisposed captain. He was incredibly focused when he got working, regarding Rodimus with a look like he was a crossword puzzle he was trying to solve.

Drift ignored how handsome that look was on him. He went still, leaning back against Ratchet’s desk and eyeing Rodimus’ prone frame. He felt sick with guilt, now that his job was done and all he could do was wait, he felt the bitter cold of shame washing in. How could he have been so careless? How could he have been so cruel? To think he knew what was best for him-

Ratchet paused, going still for a moment before sighing and leaning back in his chair. Drift looked at him hopefully, then fearfully as he pinched the bridge of his nose and dragged his hand down his face. “Drift.”

“Is it worse than we thought?” Drift mumbled, half shell shocked at the very concept.

“... Can you recall… the name of the stall… you bought this patch from?” Ratchet said evenly. It was clearly an effort on his part to hold back a note of annoyance.

“I-I don’t know- It was just a novelty datapatch stand, somewhere in an open market in a port town I think?” Drift supplied readily. Would that really help? He certainly hoped so. He turned his attention back to Rodimus, watching him wriggle restlessly against the slab. “... He’s not fried, is he?”

“No, no he is not.” Ratchet laced his fingers, putting on a sarcastically pleasant look and turning to smile icily at his conjunx. “Tell me, Drift, what do you imagine the potential uses for a patch like this to be?”

Drift cocked his head, befuddled. He supposed he hadn’t really thought about it, beyond what he planned to use it for. He opened and closed his intake, searching for something to say. “I… I guess maybe to… teach… new recruits…?”

“To teach new recruits?” Ratchet repeated, his tone saccharine and condescending. “So it’s a military training patch, do you think?” He turned to Rodimus for a moment. “Mind rolling over for me, cap?”

Rodimus let out a weak, slow groan and did as he was told. His whole frame shuddered again, his joints tensing and twitching as another glob of transfluid squirted out from the seams in his panels. He drooled against the slab, mumbling a garbled “Y-y’r such a g-great doctor, Ratchhh~” before going back to panting and whimpering.

“Thanks, kid. Now, Drift.” Ratchet reached out, manhandling Rodimus’ spoiler and eliciting another animalistic moan from the prone mech. He lifted the spoiler out of the way, disregarding Rodimus’ babbling as he continued to paint the slab pink. Ratchet pointed at the patch. “Do you wanna tell me which species marks its military patches with a smiley face?”

Drift’s optic twitched a bit. He bristled, tilting his head at his conjunx. How could he be messing around at a time like this, Rodimus was in distress and he was- the nerve! “I-I don’t know- Clearly you’ve figured it out, can you just get to the point!?” Drift snapped.

“It’s a BDSM patch, slaghead!!” Ratchet barked back, dropping the pretenses of politeness as he threw his servos in the air. “It’s fragging clogged with interfacing codes and pleasure center triggers, and- AND- If I'm right, which I’m pretty sure I am, I think you bought this from the interfacing section of whatever patch store you got it from!”

Drift’s intake snapped shut. Heat rolled over his frame, mingling with the guilt in his spark in a sickening tango. He buried his face in his hands. It was already terrible when he thought he’d infected Rodimus with a virus, now he’d possibly infected Rodimus with a virus and made him horny while he did it.

“He’s fine, Drift, he’s just…” Ratchet threw a look over his shoulder at Rodimus, who at this point was rolling his hips against the medical slab as he gurgled his own drool. “... overheated a little. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone this cycled up in a while…” He trailed off, pausing for a moment before snorting out a laugh.

“What-! What’s funny about this- this is awful!” Drift wailed. Embarrassment had taken to the dancefloor in his spark too, now. His faceplate burned.

“He got off this much on doing his job… Primus…” Ratchet snickered, shaking his head before shifting around to fully face Rodimus again. “Alright, kid, I’m gonna get this patch off you, okay?” His index digit swiftly reformatted its tip into a fine scalpel.

“Mmmkayyyy….” Rodimus mumbled, turning his helm to gaze lovingly up at the doctor. “Y-y’do so much… for the ship, Ratty…” He supplied helpfully, shivering a bit as he reached out and rubbed at Ratchet’s thigh affectionately.

“Only Drift gets to call me that, Rodimus.” He chided gently, nudging the edge of the scalpel under the patch. “Usually these suckers pop right off after they run out of battery, but I don’t think we want to know how long that’ll take.” Ratchet informed the room.

Drift squinted at him, cocking his head. “You seem to know an awful lot about this sort of thing…”

“I’ll tell ya later.” With a flick of his digits the patch popped off, flipping in the air briefly before Ratchet caught it in his palm. “There.”

Rodimus let out a confused moan, glancing around blearily. “Wha…? Where’d da….-” He shook his helm, resetting his optics as he rolled over and wheezed out one last gush of steam. “Primus….”

“I’m so sorry, Roddy- I didn’t know-” Drift started, immediately coming to his side.

“Nnnhh… Frag… That was intense…” Rodimus huffed out, rolling his head to face Drift with a confident, content little smile. “Didn’t expect that kinda thing from you- Ouf!”

Drift plastered himself against Rodimus’ front, squeezing him tightly and letting out a relieved sigh. “I didn’t know it was a sex thing- I swear, I just thought that-” He started to explain.

“You- Wait-” Rodimus’ tone immediately shifted. “You didn’t know???”

Drift’s spark twisted. “I-I thought maybe I could teach you to be-” He winced at his own words, “More… considerate?”

Rodimus pushed Drift back, keeping a shaky hold on his shoulders. “YOU GAVE ME THE BEST OVERLOAD OF MY LIFE OVER DATA WORK BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT I SUCKED?!” Rodimus shouted, his vocalizer cracking in places from how raw it was.

Drift bit his lip, “Roddy-”

“DO– DO NOT Roddy me right now-!”

“I don’t think you suck- It’s just-” Drift floundered, turning to look at Ratchet helplessly. Ratchet just looked back, an amused smile playing on his dermas. “... I dunno, I was wrong- I thought maybe- you’d respond better if you got immediate rewards for… doing the right thing…”

Rodimus stammered incredulously for a moment, sitting up and shaking Drift’s shoulders. “I-! Wha- I- I’m not a newmake!!! You could’ve told me if you had a problem with me!”

Drift averted his gaze. Rodimus made a strangled, desperate noise. “YOU COULD HAVE!! I’m so approachable!!”

“Alright, alright, you’re both very approachable and very sorry.” Ratchet piped up, stepping between the two and prying Rodimus off of his conjunx. “You two can talk this elsewhere.” He looked pointedly at the puddle Rodimus had left on his medical slab. “... I have some cleaning to do. Go use the washracks or something.” He shooed the two of them out of the room, Rodimus’ legs quivering weakly as he wobbled out of the office.

An icy silence had come over the pair of them. Drift kept his gaze ahead, not acknowledging First Aid poking his head out of his office, nor Velocity looking up from her organization work. He almost wondered if it was more odd for them to be both- to varying degrees- covered in transfluid, or that they weren’t talking to one another.

He cautiously extended his field towards Rodimus, hoping his radiating guilt would clue him in on his apologeticness. Drift winced at the prickling embarrassment and disappointment he got back.

It was a blessing that the medbay had washracks in it, it was a curse that there weren’t stalls, only flimsy curtains to separate each block from the next. Rodimus stormed into one of the racks and swished his curtain shut. Drift sighed and walked into his own, turning on the taps and offlining his optics as warm solvent washed over his plating. He took the time to clear his mind and vent as slowly as he could. It was hard to shake the regret.

After a long moment of quiet between them, Rodimus spoke. “... I’m not a bad captain…” He asserted, but it felt more like a question.

“... No. Not at all, Roddy.” Drift sighed, lifting up his arm and watching the transfluid wick off of it. “I don’t think you are… I should have been more responsible, I’m sorry.”

“... ‘s okay.” Rodimus mumbled. “You should keep feeling bad about it, I think.” There was humour in his tone, but it was outweighed by the bitterness.

“Don’t worry, I will.” Drift quipped back, the levity in his tone doing little to hide the truth in his response.

“I mean it would’ve been cool if you’d told me!” Rodimus added, glossing over Drift’s words. Maybe he hadn’t heard him.

Drift rolled his optics, biting back a smile. He was supposed to be feeling bad about this, Rodimus was making it difficult. “Oh yeah?”

“I mean it was lame that you made me overload about doing my job but… I dunno- it felt good, that's all.” Rodimus continued, his voice a bit bashful. “M-most of it anyway, I could’ve done without the… y’know. The shocking. And if you wanted me to fix my act you could’ve just said so.”

“Would you have turned the ship out of the asteroid field if you didn’t get shocked? If I asked you nicely, no, when I asked you nicely?” Drift asked, trying not to sound too accusatory. He clamped his intake shut as soon as the words left his mouth. This wasn’t the time to be proving a point.

Rodimus stuck his helm around the edge of the shower curtain to fix Drift with his aghast expression. “Well-! Pff- Whatever… I totally would. I value your opinion.” He slunk back around under his washrack.

“Well then you didn’t need the patch in the first place, and I’m still sorry that I couldn’t see that.” Drift sighed out, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

“Yeah, I didn’t, thank you very much.” Rodimus sniped haughtily.

Drift snorted out a laugh. Rodimus returned it after a moment. “... But you liked it?” Drift prompted.

“... Maybe a little.” Rodimus admitted. “... Wish I could’ve asked Ratchet to leave it on so I could finish one more time. Fragger messed with my spoiler on purpose, I just know it.”

“Oh yeah, probably.” Drift chuckled, pausing for a moment. “... do you ever feel like Ratty knows too much about stuff like this?”

“What do you mean?” Rodimus asked, peeking around the edge of the curtain again. He was squinting through excess solvent, blowing it out of his intake before grunting in frustration. “Just- c’mere- I’m tired of shouting over the showers.”

Drift turned his taps off and shuffled awkwardly into Rodimus’ wash block with him. “I mean like- He knew kind of quickly what the patch was, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re just a bit dense sometimes.” Rodimus shrugged. He motioned to his aft. “Can you get that? I can feel gunk stuck in the cracks, I can’t reach.”

Drift raised a brow ridge. “Yeah? You can’t reach?”

“Which of us fragged up today, you or me?” Rodimus shot back.

Drift rolled his optics, reaching into his subspace for a scouring pad. He wet it under the solvent stream and got to work scrubbing Rodimus’ aft and thigh paneling. “I’m still sorry.”

“I should hope so.” Rodimus sniffed. “It’s fine though, I’m super forgiving, as any great captain would be.”

Drift smiled, kneeling down a bit to get a better angle on Rodimus’ sticky plating. “Aren’t I lucky then?” He teased, curling the edge of the pad around a sensitive bit of Rodimus’ thigh armour and scrubbing fiercely. The other mech twitched and jerked his leg back, pulling in a quick hiss. “I can’t get the gunk out if you're moving.” Drift singsonged, prodding the edge of the pad between a sensitive seam and running it down from his inner thigh to his knee joint.

“Figure it out then, I’m the victim here, accommodate me.” Rodimus nudged Drift with his opposing knee, as if preparing to kick him. Drift steadied his free hand against the offending leg.

“Oh, yes sir, I’m so so sorry for my insolence, oh great and righteous captain.” Drift moaned out dramatically, tugging the pad out of his seam and instead opting to rub it carefully over Rodimus’ modesty panels. He let out a pleased rumble from deep in his engine at this, his knees suddenly going a bit wobbly. Rodimus braced himself against the wall, trying to seem casual. Drift could feel his amica’s panels were still overheated, charge wicking off his frame in places still as he struggled to cycle down.

“Ugh… the one time you do something kinky and it’s an accident.” Rodimus muttered to himself, adjusting his hips a bit as Drift washed him. “... unbelievable.”

Drift sighed. He considered Rodimus’ words for a moment, wondering if maybe… in the future… after this whole stunt had simmered down, he might be able to convince him- Drift’s mind wandered to thoughts of the blissed out, vacantly obedient look on Rodimus’ face when he’d entered the office. He’d never seen it before, and now that he wasn’t panicking… it was a good look on him.

Drift shook his head quickly. There was no need to do any wishful thinking, he made his decision about that ages ago regarding his wants. He pulled his servo back with the pad still pinched in his digits. “All clean, boss.” He said, patting Rodimus’ thigh.

“I think you missed a spot.” Rodimus hummed cockily. Drift rolled his optics again.

“Did I? Wanna show me where it is?” He gasped out in feigned ignorance, giving his best approximation of a clueless ingenue. It seemed to please him, as he chuckled lowly and adjusted his stance, further sticking his aft out in that annoyingly charming, corny sort of way he liked to do. Rodimus’ panels popped open with a click. The sexy display was likely, in Rodimus’ mind at least, undercut by the pool of trapped transfluid that splattered onto the stall floor.

Drift found it probably too alluring how quickly Rodimus’ spike extended from its casing. He dropped the pad onto the tiles, abandoning all pretenses in favor of stroking a servo up over Rodimus’ spike. “Oh yeah, how could I have missed this?” He joked, using his free hand to pet fondly over his thigh.

Rodimus let out an indulgent sigh that tapered off into a whine. “Primus, you have no idea how bad I wanted to jerk it on shift…” He mumbled, rocking his hips into Drift’s hand.

“I think I have a bit of an inkling.” Drift chuckled, sliding his other hand up to tease at Rodimus’ drenched valve. The captain jerked then, only briefly, before widening his legs and leaning into Drift’s ministrations. “I suppose the patch um… made it a bit hard…”

“Do you think?” Rodimus gasped sarcastically, only to be shut up by a whimper as Drift’s digits ran along the edge of his spikehead. He brought his index digit up and over, smearing the pearl of prefluid at his slit over the tip and then down over its underside. “A-ah, frag…”

Drift swallowed thickly, his optics flickering for a moment. He hesitated, before leaning in and drawing his glossa luxuriantly up between Rodimus’ valve lips. He caught Rodimus quickly around the thigh before he collapsed, relishing his amica’s surprised moan and rewarding his spike with a few strokes. He caught his node between his lips and laved his glossa over it gently. Drift shuddered as he drew another pleased moan from his amica. Regret and apology mingled in his tanks with the lust that had gathered there. He’d have to remember to be extra nice to Rodimus for the next few cycles, if not for Roddy’s benefit, then at least for his own conscience.

Drift squeezed his amica’s spike and drew his servo up slowly. He shivered at the long moan that accompanied the movement, as well as the lewd drizzle of prefluid that hit the tile and swirled down the drain between them. He thought he was doing a pretty good job at apologizing already. He pulled back from Rodimus’ node, opting instead to greedily suck the excess fluid from his valveport. He swallowed gluttonously, trying and failing to suppress the growl his engine let out at the taste. He drew his tongue through the folds to press at the first few rings of calipers within, earning yet another groan from Rodimus.

“P-primus-” Rodimus breathed, rolling his hips back against Drift’s face. “Ah- S-slag… you should mess up more often… you’re great at apologies.” He chuckled hoarsely.

Drift flushed a bit, half shame, half embarrassment. He wanted to beg Rodimus to not bring it up, but then again, he knew from experience that covering up his mistakes didn’t lead to anything good. He instead opted to run his glossa around the edge of the hole in a careful circle, pausing to lap at his node when he passed it. Rodimus quivered, a staticky whine barely audible over the solvent’s spray escaping him. Drift redoubled his efforts, taking Rodimus’ spike in both hands and smothering it in attention. His right servo teased and rubbed at the sensitive head, gathering the prefluid there briefly before dragging down to the base, his left repeating the motion to give his amica constant, inescapable pleasure. Rodimus’ pistons went taught. Drift thought he heard the click of him locking his joints upright.

“G-guh- frag-” He panted out, bucking his hips between the sources of his undoing.

Drift eagerly flicked his tongue against Rodimus’ node again. He drank in the stilted, weak noises Rodimus was making like the finest high grade shanix could buy. He squeezed and stroked and sucked, chasing his amica’s edge ravenously.

“O-Ouh- D-drift-!” Rodimus huffed out, his digits grinding against the tile. “F-fuh- frag- I’m- ah- I’m close-” He wheezed helplessly.

Drift trembled with his own excess charge. It didn’t matter, he didn’t care. He drooled against Rodimus’ twitching, cycling valve, savouring the spurts of fluid that dribbled down his chin and chest. He held one servo around the base of Rodimus’ spike, milking the underside of it with his thumb while the other continued to pump.

He felt his amica go stiff and pressed his glossa flat and hard against his node. Rodimus screamed out raw static, hips bucking minutely and frame shivering. Transfluid splattered both against the washrack’s tile and Drift’s face. He gave an honest effort to swallow down what he could, but even then he relished the feeling of it spilling lewdly onto his chassis. He pulled back, panting, admiring the way Rodimus’ valve cycled and fluttered around nothing in aftershocks.

Rodimus slowly lowered himself onto his hands and knees, panting weakly as he recovered his faculties. Drift took the moment to reach up and grasp the washrack’s head and extend it to clean off the mess his amica had made, both off his own plating and Rodimus’. Once he was sufficiently pleased with their cleanliness, he switched the taps off. The cooling solvent slowed to a trickle and stopped as he sat down beside Rodimus. He rolled over off his knees and onto his aft, leaning back against the wall for a moment.

“... Thanks, Drifty.” Rodimus sighed affectionately.

“No problem, Roddy.” Drift’s voice was hoarser than he thought it would be. He flinched as Rodimus reached over and laid his servo against his thigh, thumbing fondly at the decorative red plating there.

“You feel a little heated, bud, need a hand with something?” Rodimus asked innocently. Drift didn’t need to reach out to his field to sense the poison in his words.

“... I got a bit worked up, is all-” Drift started, leaning into Rodimus’ touch.

“Hm! Interesting!” Rodimus smiled bitterly, though it was more playful than before. “You should get that figured out, pal. I’d hate for my favourite amica to be struggling like this.”

A sliver of guilt wormed deeper into Drift’s spark. He sighed and chuckled goodnaturedly, opening his mouth to speak. He was cut off as Rodimus stood up abruptly, dragging him up with him.

“I might be wrong, but I think I know someone who’s office needs cleaning.” Rodimus mused, tapping a digit on his chin in false thought. He turned his gaze back to Drift with an icy smirk. “Feeling helpful, Drift?”

Drift sighed again, offering a pleasant smile. He hoped it covered up how badly he wanted to reduce Rodimus back to a quaking, panting mess. “... Always, captain.”

#transformers #my art #mtmte #valveplug #/nsfw #/nsft #driftrod #dratchrod #smut #lemon #transformers smut #drift #rodimus #ratchet #my fic

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devotedlykoneshots · 3 months

Text

CHOI SAN : LYCAN

genre: 🔞, minors dni, werewolf San, San and reader dated in the past, reader is still in love with San

word count : 1729

--------

"Where are you going?" You wake up from your nap to see San trying to sneak out of your place quietly and he sighs upon getting caught. He'd shown up at your door earlier that night, wounded and in need of your magic touch as he liked to call it.

"Away" he admits and you frown, sitting up and letting the blanket fall next to you on the floor.

"Without saying goodbye? Don't I deserve some closure?"you asked, obviously sad that he tried to leave without saying goodbye yet again.

"What did you see?" He asked instead.

"Nothing"you've always been a terrible liar and its not the first time you've been caught lying.

"I can hear your heartbeat" he reminds you of what he is and you're the one to sigh this time.

"Okay , fine. I saw your wolf form" you admit and he nods, its not like he wants to leave you but he knew he couldn't stay.

"Then you know why I have to go" he turns towards the door again but you're up and grabbing his arm before he can walk too far.

"That's an excuse" you scoff and he looks at you, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Is it? Look me in my eyes and tell me you're not scared of me" he tells you and you look into his eyes, wholeheartedly telling him the truth.

"I'm not scared" he blinks , taken aback by the fact that you were being honest that time and honestly he wasn't sure if that made you naive or not.

"Would I bring you into my home if I was?" You asked him this time around and he steps closer to you, neither of you stepping down and cowering because you needed him to stay.

You missed him.

"Why did you?" He questioned you and you frown.

"Because you needed help and I couldn't leave you like that" you told him and he shakes his head.

"That's not good enough" he tries to pull away but you grab his other arm as well and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"I love you"you say and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath, he missed you too but he couldn't live with himself if he hurt you.

That's why he broke it off the first time, werewolves don't have good control and its exceptionally difficult for the bitten ones.

"I still do , okay and when I saw you again I just knew I couldn't let you go" you admitted and he pulls his hands free with ease, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly.

"You know the danger you put yourself in?" He asked and you nodded your head because yes you did know but you didn't care.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take" you tell him and he scoffs, shaking his head and pulling back.

"I'm not"he cared too much about you to be selfish with you and gamble your safety.

"That's not your call to make" you counter.

"I'm a monster, a werewolf! Do you not get that?" He's becoming frustrated with your lack of understanding the danger that comes with being with someone like him.

"You're not a monster, there's good in you. I've always seen it." You cup his face and he rolls his eyes, grabbing your hands.

"Y/n look at me" you shake your head, not willing to accept that he was a monster.

"I am looking at you , I'm looking here and my heart knows you're not a monster" you place your hand over his heart and look up at him, tears blurring your vision.

This is what he wanted to avoid.

"Stay"you tell him and he shakes his head, leaning his cheek into your palm and nuzzling his face there.

"I can't" he's now getting emotional and you know he doesn't wanna go , you know he'd do anything to keep you safe.

"You can , for me? Please" you beg, pulling him down to press his forehead against your own and his hands go to your waist on instinct, his resolve turning into mush in your hands.

"I can't"he doesn't sound as confident as before and that was all you needed , he watches you with hooded eyes as you pull him closer and forcing his lips onto your own.

He lets out a whimper as the last bit of his resolve is snuffed out of him , your lips molding together in a deep and passionate kiss.

Your hands grip onto his shirt as you pull him against you and he groans softly against your lips, hands reaching for the back of your thighs.

"Fuck- jump y/n"he pants softly against your lips and you do as he says, wrapping your legs and arms around his waist and neck.

He carries you to the bedroom and lays you down on the bed, hovering over you and tilting your head to lather his tongue on the skin there.

"Fuck-"you whisper and tilting your neck to give him more room to decorate your skin, he's careful not to bite you and let's his clothed bulge press against the center of your shorts.

"San"you whimper his name, only causing his cock to harden and press against your shorts harder as his hips start to rock.

"Take them off"you cry out, reaching between your bodies and pushing your shorts down. He groans as he grips the back of your neck and uses his other hand to help you tug down your shorts before he pulls back to yank them off.

The slightly ripped material beging thrown behind you as he spreads your legs and licks the seat of your panties, you gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair.

"You smell so good"he moans softly and burys his face into your panties, his nose rubbing against your clothed clit and you mewl.

"Please san, do something"you begged him and he looks up at your frame, your shirt bunched up to show the underside of your bare breasts through your thin tank top.

He licks his lips and pulls your panties off next but he doesn't waste any more time as he laps at your clit with his tongue, you moan softly and tug in his hair.

"Shit"you curse and he groans softly at the tugs to his hair, sucking your clit into his mouth before dragging his tongue through your folds and sucking on your flesh.

"Taste so good"he moans against your pussy as he pulls you closer against his mouth and sucks harder, licking faster and flicking your clit more frequently.

"I'm gonna cum"you warned him and he pulled away, licking his lips and shaking his head as he crawls up your body to kiss you again.

"Why'd you stop?"you pout and he smiles, flashing his teeth but he doesn't answer just yet and instead he focuses on getting you completely naked.

"Wanna cum inside you"he whispers against your cheek as he hovers over you again and slaps your pussy , earning a squeak from him before two of his fingers thrust into your awaiting hole.

"San-"he shushes you and you whimper, his fingers curling and thrusting into you at a slow pace.

"Need to stretch you out first pretty"he rasps and you buck your hips against his fingers, an amused laugh leaving his lips.

"You like my fingers, yeah?"he asked and you nodded , you liked anything as long as it came from him. Choi san , your hot werewolf ex boyfriend.

Said ex boyfriend speeds up the pace of his fingers and thrusts them into your hole faster, your body thrashing around with each jerk of his fingers.

A mewl leaving your lips as he drops a mouthful of spit onto your pussy and hearing the squelching sound from your arousal as you take his fingers, back arching as you buck your hips faster.

"Cumming!"you cry out and san shows you mercy this time as he lathers up the other side of your neck, you cumming all over his fingers as your hand covers your mouth to keep you from crying out too loud.

San pulls back as he pulls his fingers out of you and he licks them clean, a deep growl resounding in his chest as you watch him with hooded eyes.

"S-sannie"you reach for him and he removes the rest of his clothes before burying his face in your neck, letting you welcome him into your embrace and stroke his hair.

Your legs wrap around his waist again and you bite your bottom lip, he kisses your lips again and drags his tip through your folds as he collects your arousal before he slowly pushes himself inside of you.

"Is this what you wanted?"he doesn't give you time to adjust as he immediately starts to thrust into you, catching you off guard and wrapping a hand around your neck.

"San"you cried out, tears welling in your eyes as he doesn't show you mercy.

"Is this what you want me for? To fuck you dumb? Every night?"your eyes roll into the back of your head as he thrusts into you harder, your headboard slamming into the wall repeatedly from the force of his hips.

"Fuck- fuck!"you cry out and he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock reaching deeper with this new angle.

"Oh my god!"your voice cracks and your body arches, fingers digging into his arms and he moans deeply.

Your fingers scratching down his back as he burys his face in your neck, your body squirming underneath his own as you cum but he doesn't slow down.

His hips plowing into your hole faster and fucking you into overstimulation, it's only when you start to squirt does he pull out and watch you try and catch your breath.

"I'm not done with you, turn around"his voice is stern and you don't want to test him, you flip onto your stomach and he grabs the back of your neck as he angles your head towards the mirror.

"Watch me fuck you dumb, I surely hope you don't have any plans for the next couple of days"he smirks and you catch his eyes glowing a deep red, you gulp.

Oh shit

#ateez smut #choi san smut #san smut

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cowboysandpilots · 1 year

Text

Meetings and Morals (Marvey)

Warnings: Adult Language

Pairings: Harvey/Mike

Word Count: 2000

Hi, @fleuroqium here is your Marvey blurb. :) I’m so sorry this took me absolutely AGES. I really apologize, I hadn’t watched Suits in a hot minute, and I wanted to get back into it so I could write this the best I possibly could, but hey, this made it up to 2k words, so I hope it was worth the wait. ❤️

Nothing between Harvey and Mike had ever been ordinary. Even their first meeting was the strangest way they could have met. So, it stands to reason that the way romance started seeping into their partnership would be anything but ordinary and just like their first meeting, it was fast. It took Harvey only about 5 minutes to know he wanted to hire Mike, and it took him even less than that to know he was in love with him.

The first time that Harvey noticed his feelings start to change for Mike was the moment that Mike finally decided to grow some balls and stand up to him. If it were anyone else, Harvey would've taken it as a sign of disrespect, but because it was Mike, he took it as a sign that the kid was actually listening to him and coming into his own as a lawyer that wouldn't back down. It made Harvey feel something he doesn't think he's ever felt before, butterflies.

“You told me to fix my case; why don't you fix yours?” That's what Mike had said to him, and it had been playing over and over in Harvey’s brain for weeks. There was a bass to Mike’s voice that Harvey had never heard before, and it sent a chill up his spine.

The next time that Harvey felt those butterflies again was after a long and challenging case they had been working on. Neither of them had slept more than a couple of hours in days, and Harvey could tell that Mike was crashing. They were in Harvey’s town car, and to his credit, Mike was trying exceptionally hard to keep his eyes open. He was also leaning heavily against Harvey’s shoulder, not that Harvey minded. However, he did have to keep up appearances, so he kept shifting against Mike every few minutes, making him lift his body again, giving space between them. He couldn't let Mike think that things like this were okay, even if maybe he didn't mind it.

“Now is not the time to sleep, rookie. You're a grown man; you should be able to wait until you get to that hole you call an apartment.” Harvey chuckles softly.

“Leave me alone, Harvey,” Mike mumbles lowly. “I haven't slept in so long; I need this.”

Harvey couldn't get over how good Mike’s voice sounded when he was half asleep like this. As much as they had spent time together, Harvey doesn't think he’s ever heard it like this before. It was like Mike had all his walls down, he was wholly unguarded, and Harvey loved it. Mike always had walls up, considering everything that he was hiding.

There was one more thing that Mike was hiding, something he hadn’t even told Harvey. Mike was gay. He was worried that it would change things between him and Harvey. Things had already changed between him and Trevor. He thought that Trevor was someone he could trust. They were best friends. However, when he told Trevor about his sexual orientation, Trevor had started to close himself off from Mike. It started off with little things like not inviting him to the parties that he threw. Then, he started spending more and more time over at his girlfriend, Jenny’s, house. It didn’t seem that weird at the time; Trevor was in love with Jenny; of course, he would want to spend as much time as he could with her. It made sense; however, Jenny let him know; a few weeks later, she had told him that Trevor had only started staying with her so much because he was uncomfortable around him. Mike didn't understand it at first; they were best friends. Nothing had changed between them except… Mike had come out to him. Fuck.

Mike knows that Harvey is no Trevor. In fact, he’s exponentially better than Trevor, but that doesn’t mean coming out won’t have the same outcome. Harvey had never given Mike any reason to think that he wouldn't be okay with it, but he had never given him a reason to believe that he would be either. Mike could've gone to Donna for that kind of information, but he had no guarantee that the act of him asking the questions wouldn't get back to Harvey, and that was the last thing he needed. He couldn't tell anyone. Other than his Grandma, of course.

It doesn't take long for them to get back to Mike’s apartment, but he wishes he didn't have to leave Harvey, wants to invite him up, wishes he could, but he won’t. It would be inappropriate, and Mike just has to keep reminding himself of that. He opens up his door and gives Harvey a nonchalant goodbye before heading up to his apartment, his empty apartment. “Doesn't matter,” he tells himself; he’ll see Harvey tomorrow anyway.

Harvey had Ray drive him back to his apartment; as soon as he knows, Mike made it safely into the door. It’s a bad neighbourhood; you can never be too careful, right? When he finally makes it back to his apartment, he does nothing except get his suit off and climb into bed. He barely has time to think about anything before he’s drifting off.

It felt like only two seconds before Mike's alarm was going off again. In reality, it was at least four hours, only half of what the body actually needs, but not bad for two high-profile lawyers. He drags himself into the shower and leaves his slept-in suit strewn all over the bathroom floor. Once out of the shower, Mike picks out a new suit and decides that the one good thing he did while in the middle of the fallout with Trevor was take all of his fancy suits. He gets it on as quickly as he can and peddles through the city, narrowly missing a few cars on the busy streets before he gets to Pearson Hardman. When he makes his way to Donna’s desk because he still needs permission to enter Harvey’s office even after all they’ve been through, he notices that Harvey is nowhere to be seen. “What? I made it here before Harvey?” He grins, but Donna doesn’t even look up.

“Wrong.” She answers immediately, making Mike’s grin disappear. “Harvey is in a meeting with Jessica this morning.”

That makes Mike’s eyebrows crease together, and it takes him a moment to talk again. “He didn’t tell me about that.”

“I forgot; you’re in charge of Harvey’s schedule. Oh no, wait, that’s me.” Donna finally looks up to smirk cheekily at Mike.

Mike can’t think of what to say to that because she is right, and her smirk scares him, so he figures he’ll just come back when he catches a glimpse of Harvey.

***

When Harvey got to work this morning, he didn’t expect to be called into Jessica’s office, and he had half a mind to tear Donna a new one for forgetting to tell him about this. His faith in her was restored when Jessica made it known that this was a more impromptu thing. She offers him a seat which makes him uneasy, her smile, even more.

“So, you’re in love with Mike.” She starts, just dropping that bomb right away.

Harvey is taken aback, but he keeps his face neutral; being a lawyer has helped with that. “What makes you say that?”

Jessica only gives a humourless chuckle and shakes her head. “I’m not an idiot, Harvey, don’t treat me like one.” She offers no other explanation, but Harvey has known her long enough to know that he can’t charm his way out of this one, and if she’s asking, it’s because she already knows and has the evidence to back it up. “I was here late last night. I saw you give him a ride home, and I saw the way you looked at him when he was getting into your town car and not looking back.

There’s the evidence.

Harvey opens his mouth, about to plead his case, when Jessica holds up her hand and cuts him off. “But!” She starts. “I also saw how he looked at you while you were talking to Ray.” For the first time, she cracks a smile.

This time, Harvey doesn’t hold back his surprise. “He did? How?” He knows he’s giving Jessica far too much leverage right now, but he was caught off guard.

Jessica’s smile doesn’t leave, but it doesn’t get any bigger. This is a business meeting, after all, and the walls are made of glass, and she doesn’t answer him. “I’m not one to encourage workplace relationships. In fact, I think I actively discourage it, and I feel you have already put us in the fire with everything else you’ve done when it comes to the kid.” She levels him with a look, and once again, Harvey opens his mouth to defend himself. “I also know…” Jessica cuts in. “That telling you not to do something will only make you want to do it more, so I say, tell the kid how you feel.”

Harvey, whose mouth has been open through that entire speech, only now closes it and stands up. He wants to get out of here before Jessica changes her mind, so he gives her a nod and a “Thank you” before he rebuttons his suit jacket and makes his way back to his office, but not before stopping off at Mike’s cubicle. “My office. Now.”

Mike knows that tone; either he’s done something wrong, or the firm is in trouble, and it’s up to him and Harvey to save it. Neither of which he really wants to be on the hook for when his head isn’t into it 100%. He straightens up and quickly follows Harvey into his office. “What’s going on? What did Jessica want? Was it bad? It was bad, right?” He rambles, nervous.

At this moment, listening to Mike ramble and freak out, he wonders why he even likes the younger man. He really causes nothing but trouble, though it is very endearing. He lets Mike pace back and forth for a few more minutes while Harvey just sits at his desk and smiles at him. That’s what gives him away.

Mike stops, turning to Harvey for answers when he’s finally stopped talking, but all he’s met with is the dopey smile that confuses him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

God, Harvey hopes he isn’t wrong about this, that Jessica didn’t read too much into a look and steer him in the wrong direction. “This isn’t about Jessica; this is about you.” Arguably not a good way to start this conversation because the horrified look is back on Mike’s face, and Harvey has regrets.

“Oh god, someone found out I didn’t go to Harvard, didn’t they?” He breathes, rubbing a hand over his face. “Who was it? Am I gonna go to jail?” Mike is spiralling again.

“No, no. Relax, Rookie. Nothing like that. This isn’t even about work or Jessica.” It was kind of about Jessica, but Mike didn’t need to know that.

Mike’s face melded from horrified to shocked and confused. “You called me in here like that to talk to me about something not work-related?” He frowns.

“Yeah, I have a reservation at Per Se tomorrow night. I’ve had this reservation for months, so don’t be late. Harvey is sure he’ll have to buy Donna a new, ridiculously expensive handbag for the inconvenience of an uninvitation, but he’s sure she’ll understand in the name of love. “And Mike?” He says, just before he kicks the man out. “It’s a five-star restaurant, so find a better tie, okay?” If Harvey is going to confess any sort of feelings, especially romantic ones, he’s going to do it in style, even if everything will make Mike roll his eyes.

#Suits #suits tv #harvey specter #mike ross #harvey x mike #marvey #marvey suits #marvey fanfic #marvey ficlet #marvey fanfiction #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction #my writing

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satosugusandwich · 2 months

Text

𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔞𝔫…

True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Afab!Reader (This is an AU!!! Sukuna is not a homicidal maniac cannibalistic murderer! I think he’s sexy and my morals say no dick from crazy murderer BUT dick from crazy 😍)

Cw: implications of violence, vomit, reader thinks everything is suggestive… that’s it I’m pretty sure. Does red meat need a content warning???

Description: You've been friends with Yuji Itadori for some time now and have seen the best, the worst, and the strange in all your years of knowing him. You've never thought he was one to have any crazy secrets and well... you were wrong. And now the demon bound to Yuji is bound to you too! How fun! Good thing that you aren't stupid and won't fall for a being that by no means should you have ever interacted with! Right? Right...?

*Yuji is aged up but there will be no sexual stuff with him except maybe like a brief mention but yeah*

Chapter 4 Here!

Chapter 5: I’ll Do It

You woke in the morning, sweaty, still dressed in last nights clothes, arousal soaking in-between your legs, and grotesque confusion. Why were you dreaming of Sukuna sucking at your clit and why was he so fucking good at it? Well, he does have two mouths, but what does that have to do with anything? It was the weekend and it had been officially one week since you were nearly trafficked and kidnapped, you weren't feeling exceptionally positive, but it was certainly a lot better than sobbing and not even being able to look at yourself in the mirror. You also were used to Sukuna lounging in your living room or stealing food from your kitchen and you also were used to Yuji sleeping either in your bed or somewhere on the floor. You knew you didn't want this to be permanent and neither did Itadori, he missed his bed. You both wondered what was going on in Sukuna's head, but neglected to ask, mostly treating him as though he wasn't there. Sukuna didn't care, he was used to it, but he definitely noticed your jumpy behavior today.

First thing in the morning and you're back to staring at him like you did the first few days. He must've really upset you to make you this on edge again is what he thought, he had no clue that you were moaning his name in your sleep last night or that you got off a multitude of times on his tongue within your dream last night. Sukuna was really laboring over what he should do now that he's upset you so much, he would normally be indifferent, but there was something that really nagged him knowing you were mad at him. Really, it was quite the opposite for you, all of what you were mad over has now been replaced with why you had that dream instead.

“You’re finally awake.” Sukuna noted, giving you an uncharacteristic greeting.

“Y-yeah.” You answered, nervous that he might know somehow.

Sukuna attempted to start a conversation, hoping it’d read as him trying to not be abrasive. “Did you sleep well?” You did drink a lot, he knows he’d pass the fuck out really hard.

Your mind was running with thoughts. “Uh, yeah. Did you?” You were desperate to go back to your room now and shower.

“I slept for most of the night. I take so many naps I never sleep long.” Sukuna shifted on the couch, leaning on his hand.

What if you were moaning in your sleep and he heard you!!! Oh no!!!! “That’s good then.” You rushed back in your room with some orange juice in your hand. “I’m gonna shower.” Why would you tell him that, what if he sees it as suggestive?

It makes sense, you stink like alcohol and slept in last nights clothes, he can wholly understand wanting to be clean. He gave you a glance and a nod before turning on the TV to find something else to watch.

Shedding all the layers of your clothes and sitting down on the toilet, you repeated the dream in your mind over and over again. You must’ve dreamt of him because of how desperate you’ve been for the past months to actually get off and have good sex and he’s just the closest male in the vicinity so you dreamt about him! Yeah, that has to be it! There’s nothing else there, he’s just a man with 2 mouths, 4 arms, that’s unusually large, and recently watched a show about sex on your Netflix account, so you naturally threw everything together in your mind. It only makes sense.

You made the water really hot before standing under it and letting it soak every part of you. It’s like you wanted to get everything off of you. From the trauma of the past week, to Sukuna eating your pretty pussy out. You shoved everything down and into the back of your mind quickly, focusing on the fact that you need some good dick and the closest men with the best reviews frequented the bar you were at last night, you’re just gonna have to reach out. The problem is that you’re going to have to interact with Sukuna more today and you’re not looking forward to it. The good thing is that you’re going to have to go to work so you’ll have some time away from him and will be able to stop thinking about him and just make some money.

It wasn’t going to be a long shift today, just a short one and you were grateful especially because it was a busy day for you. Working as a server hasn’t been too awful, some people are really mean and others are very kind, which is something you are grateful for after a terrible week. You don’t have to go in for a few more hours, but you have a few things you need to do, including going to the store and just doing regular college kid things.

There was a knock on your bedroom door and Yuji called to you from outside the bathroom. “Hey, can I ask a favor?”

You peeked your head out the bathroom door. “Yes?”

“Me and Megumi haven’t been able to go out together, you’d be okay if Sukuna had to be around you today right? I almost never get any real privacy with him around, ya know. I’ll do the same when you have people around too!” He had a bright and innocent look in his eye and he was already dressed to go out. As much as your anxiety said no, your mouth said otherwise.

“Yeah. It’s okay. He’ll actually be able to maintain some distance now, since I’m feeling a lot better.” You told him, hoping that it was true and your subconscious was actually feeling safe because you might go absolutely insane if you have to have him over your shoulder the whole night.

He grinned. “Yaaay! Would you be okay if I spent the night at Megumi’s too?” He looked so excited, you can’t say no! “You seem to be feeling a lot better now.”

You hesitate but he seems to ignore it. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You two don’t live far apart, you live in the same complex, but still, you might be a little anxious staying alone again. “I will be okay.” You exited the bathroom, now dressed completely.

He ran up to hug you. “You’re the best, thank you! I’ll see you in the morning then, be sure to text me, okay?” Yuji let you go and got ready to run out.

“I will, don’t worry.” You definitely will, so long as Sukuna doesn’t watch you the whole time.

Yuji gave Sukuna a quick wave and he responded with a grunt, seeming to not care. He got of glimpse of you from within your bedroom, all four eyes watching you before you closed the door to do some quick homework. Sukuna scoffed when you shut it, confused as to if he’s pissed that you’re mad at him or if he’s pissed because he’s so bothered by it. In a weird way, Sukuna was happy to be stuck with you today. If he can’t get you to tell him what’s wrong, he’d figure it out himself.

A few hours passed and you told him you had to go to the store. You were able to walk there since there was one right across the street so you were able to put in headphones and drown him out. All you had to get were basic toiletries, some food, and you wanted to get another game to keep yourself entertained in these tumultuous times. Sukuna stayed a few feet back, looking around the store for things that caught his eye. While in the women’s items section, you tried to hurriedly stash some pads in your basket, but he couldn’t help but stare at the vibrators they have right beside the condoms. He has some familiarity with them thanks to the show he watched a few days ago, you definitely noticed him smirking at the selection and tried to hurry along. When you went to the back for a game, he analyzed all the titles and cases, wondering what each of them are. You picked up an old Mortal Kombat that had recently been rereleased and decided to go with it, Sukuna found it amusing you selected a fighting game.

Then came Sukuna’s favorite part of any store, the food. He walked over to the red meat, poking at prodding at it. “These seem nice.”

Walking over, you realized the you didn’t know what he liked to eat but he clearly does eat a lot. “You like steaks?”

His lower set of eyes looked to you. “Yes, I like all kinds of meat.”

What does he mean by that???? “I can get some for you.” Ignore, ignore, ignore the suggestiveness.

“Hm, then get these.” He lifted two hefty pieces and put them into your basket, you almost forgot that he was invisible to everyone else and realized you probably just looked crazy telling thin air you’d get meat for them. No one paid any attention to you so they must’ve assumed you were on the phone thanks to your headphones.

“Anything else?” Your neck craned up to him and you were reminded of how insanely tall he is.

“Get whatever you’d like. I eat anything so long as it’s cooked well.”

You started to move along, picking out a few vegetables. “You seem to really like food.”

Sukuna scoffed, “isn’t it normal for every creature to like food?”

You didn’t know if he thought your question was ridiculous or you. “Well, not everyone sees food as this huge thing, it’s crazy to me. If I could, I’d have a personal chef at all times.”

“I used to have a chef.” He said nonchalantly, eyeing the huge, bright lit-up advertisements near the front of the store. “They cooked the most incredible meals. Saved me a lot of time.”

You were surprised. “You cook?”

He laughed this time. “Back in my day, you had no choice.”

As much as you wanted to complain about the cringiness of his comment, you knew it was true. The convenience of having a personal chef was rare and something only achieved by those in power or men of the house. The average person had to learn to cook.

After checking out all of your items and unpacking them at home, you realized you were nearly late and changed into your clothes faster than you have your entire life. Sukuna watched you scramble in amusement, your panicked state bringing out that fire he wished he could see more often. It really was so hard for him not to tease you when you made it so easy!!! For you, you had totally forgotten about your sex dream and everything else that had been bothering you, so by the time you were in the car and ready to go, you jumped out of your skin when he opened the door to get in the backseat.

“Fuck!” You called out and he chuckled. “Scared the hell out of me!”

He laid in the backseat, comfortably positioned while you drove off. You turned on the radio and tried to skim through music, but it was embarrassing having someone hear what you listen to, but even more embarrassing to realize he’d probably heard it all before when you were with Yuji. And then there you go again, thinking about your wet dream.

The ride over there was nearly unbearable, all the thoughts you tried so hard to repress were back up and at ‘em and even worse now that you realized quite a few things.

1. Sukuna has seen likely a lot more than a few private moments when you’ve been with Yuji.

2. He’s also most definitely heard when you listen to naughtier music.

3. He’s seen that you watched that Netflix show.

4. He could’ve very well heard you moaning in your sleep.

To your chagrin, Sukuna has to go inside with you even though you think you feel a lot better. He doesn’t seem to mind that much, wandering through the restaurant freely and listening to people’s conversations. You clocked in and immediately were put to work because of course it’s busy right when you come in. You helped your coworkers out and did your best to narrowly avoid Sukuna as you walked through, but it seemed like the other people just walked right through him as if he was a ghost. You didn’t have that luxury, if you bumped into him, you’d fall right onto your ass. Sukuna, as much as he wanted to see you flustered, knew that it wasn’t worth it so he attempted to help you out by staying out of your way. Eventually, he decided to rest in the waiting area and then he noticed something.

A man with dark hair, dark eyes, a nasty smirk, and a mean ass scar on his neck walked in. He recognized that scar, especially since he was the one who put it there. The man didn’t notice him, letting Sukuna know that if he is working with demons, they certainly aren’t nearby, especially since he was basically right in front of him. Looking at him, Sukuna is especially observant of his features, he’s wearing expensive rings and has olive skin, he’s also wearing expensive clothes that cover most of his body minus where theres a few glimpses of his chest from under his shirt. He looks to be the picture of the average upper class man, well-put together with lots of money in his pockets. He must make a fortune off of selling those girls is the first thing Sukuna thought, he’s also rather bold for letting his scar show.

The hostess spoke to the man. “Hello Mr. Tamaki, is it just you today?” The woman knows him.

“Ah, no, I’m coming for a meeting today. I will be joined by three other men.” He spoke? Impossible. Sukuna destroyed his larynx, he knows he did. And who are these three men?

“I see. Do you want your usual spot?” The woman gathered menus and started walking them over.

“Yes please, and my usual server. I didn’t get to see her last week.” Mr. Tamaki was sat in a corner booth, privately stored away from everyone else, basically. It was the furthest spot from the door and closest to the back.

The man got sat down, checking his watch and then his phone before turning toward Sukuna and greeting his server with a smile.

“Hey, Miss Y/n. I missed you last week.” Oh you’re fucking kidding him.

Sukuna moved out the way so you could stand in front of the table, but he was very tempted to grab you and pull you straight out the restaurant to go home. He did put a hand on your shoulder, signaling he wants to talk to you.

You ignored the gesture and greeted your regular. “Yeah, I wasn’t feeling very good, but I’m happy to be back. How are you doing this week? Is business good, I heard you had a good offer given to you last week, but it slipped right out of your hands.”

Sukuna wanted to kill this man.

Mr. Tamaki simply smiled. “Yes, yes, it’s doing fine. It was disappointing but I won’t let that make me give up.”

Sukuna could feel himself about to lose it and he gripped your shoulder tighter.

You tried to nudge him off like it was just a muscle cramp. “Anyways, what are we drinking tonight?”

Mr. Tamaki pointed at some wine on the menu and you wrote it down on your ticket. “Do you know what the others will be having?”

Sukuna’s patience was seriously being tested, especially as the other men seemingly headed toward the table. Luckily, none of them were recognizable to him, so at least they weren’t involved in your abduction. But they were ogling you like some type of fine wine as they approached.

The man shook their hands as they sat and greeted you all the same. When they reached out to shake your hand, Sukuna grabbed your wrist to prevent you.

“Something wrong?” One of them said, an older man with gray hair and a receding hairline asked.

You shook your head and Sukuna was entirely ready to pick you up and leave. “I’m okay, I just need to go to the bathroom really fast.”

Sukuna tugged you in the direction of the employees restroom and you could barely keep up as he walked. When you got inside, he stood in front of the door and locked you both in. Before you could ask, he answered your upcoming question. “Mr. Tamaki was the driver. He’s definitely been watching you through your workplace. You need to quit.”

You felt dizzy. “Huh? But? I don’t get it.”

Sukuna looked serious. “He must have demons working with him as well, that’s the only way his throat could’ve healed so fast. And you don’t recognize him, do you?”

You shook your head slowly, tears welling up. “No, he’s always been so kind to me here. There’s no way—“

Sukuna sighed. “Trash like him always put on the most convincing front. Give me the word and I’ll do it.”

You felt so sick, you lifted up the toilet seat cover and got on your knees. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“I’ll do it.”

You heaved once and then tears started.

“I should’ve killed him then and there, Yuji is foolish to let a bastard like him live.” Sukuna prattled on, anger filling his entire body. “One command.”

“Just shut up!” You yelled and he looked at you wide eyed. “This is a lot for me—“ Then you threw up.

His expression softened, watching you heave and sob into the toilet. He would normally be disgusted, but seeing you this miserable made him pity you. Disregarding all the aggression he had just built up, a gentle hand was now on your back and two others had pulled your hair back. Sukuna didn’t even recognize what he was doing, he hasn’t done something like this for someone since his youth. The gesture shocked you.

“S-Sukuna.” You muttered, the taste of stomach acid turning your expression. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”

Funny, he thought, yesterday you were yelling at him for being an asshole, which he can admit he has been, and yet here you both are now. He must admit, hearing you thank him filled him with a warmth he had grown unfamiliar with after hundreds of years of isolation. He thinks he might be going insane.

“It’s no trouble.” He scoffed. “Can you get yourself together now?” His voice was soft and he was sure he’s going insane.

“Yeah. I think we should go home.”

He didn’t want to press about dealing with those men, he knew it was for the best and that you, ultimately, were a being of compassion similar to Yuji. You wouldn’t want him to be killed, but Sukuna surely hoped you’d make those men face consequences. And he’d enjoy it if he was the one to do it. But that can wait until later, he knows the one thing he has to do it get you home safely.

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #Sukuna #ryomen sukuna #Sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna fluff #yuji itadori

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the-traveling-poet · 4 months

Text

✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼ °° ✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼

Since today is Levi Ackerman’s birthday, (and Christmas too I guess) here’s a festive little idea I’ve had stuck in my head :)

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼ °° ✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼ °° ❅ ҉ ❅ ✼

A bitter chill hung in the air throughout the halls, drafting in through HQ’s main doors opening and closing as people came and went as they pleased.

Wreaths hung outside office doors, and the occasional branch of mistletoe hung in various hall way arches in joking fashion. The hearth sat in the far corner of the mess hall had even been lit, warming those who stopped by’s hands from the winter chill.

Since it was the holiday weekend, Commander Erwin had called for a break through the next couple of days, just after training had ended earlier that same day around noon.

Everyone had been relieved for this time off to either return home to their families, or relax around HQ with minimal duties to entertain.

Yourself and several of the veterans in the Survey Corps had chosen to stay at base, keeping one another company in place of the families you either did not have, or had lost. But for some, neither scenario was the case.

Watching Captain Levi roam the nearly empty halls with his ever present blank expression, you soon understood he’d never had a family to lose, much less return to. So he had always opted to take vacation in the Survey Corps dorms.

Though, despite this bleak reality no doubt weighing on his conscience, his demeanor had considerably changed over the past week. Today especially had been exceptionally awkward around your boyfriend.

He’d made brief mention of his lack of family to you as you both grew closer over the months, and had officially began a relationship. You were both still new to romance, stumbling blindly over your ever growing emotions. Levi most especially. But regardless, this new chapter in your life, however new it was, had been a blessing you could have only hoped for.

With one last close inspection, you finished tidying up you recently neglected office and decided to search for Levi. After all, wasn’t it apart of your responsibility to check in with him when he wasn’t acting well?

After searching high and low for him, you hadn’t come across Levi anywhere he usually frequented on down time. You’d nearly decided to postpone your search, till a flicker of color caught your eye behind the mess hall’s windows.

Currently, Levi stood out among the training grounds, doing nothing more than observing his surroundings and watching the sky. Finding this behavior odd, as it was seldomly shown by the raven, you hesitantly left the hall and approached him, standing a respectable distance away.

“Levi,” You greeted softly.

“Y/N,” He curtly responded, his eyes never leaving the thick cover of clouds blocking out the sun. You searched his side profile for any indications as to what he might have felt, but you’d sooner see emotion shown on Wall Maria’s smooth surface before your fellow Captain’s.

Chewing at your lip and awkwardly shuffling your feet through the frost covered grass, you decided to broach the subject lightly.

“So…Are you hiding out here to avoid Hange again?”

Scoffing lightly, he shook his head.

“Partially. I just stepped out for some air. Needed to think, I guess.”

Frowning, your eyes left his face a moment as you realized what might have gotten him in a funk.

“You mentioned before, but never went into detail; you lost your mother around this time, right? Is that what’s going through your mind this week?”

You spoke softly and slowly, trying your hardest to ease into the topic carefully for his sake. Finally, he turned to fully face you, his steely eyes searching your face before he seemed to decide what he wanted to say.

“I did, yes. And you’re right, it has been. Never really cared for winter after she died, nor cared celebrating the one shitty day out of the year that makes me older.”

Slowly, you reached out for his fingers, finding them near freezing to the touch. He had to have been standing out here awhile, you thought, as you looked over his pink tinted ears and nose. Showing him a bittersweet smile, you began to gently rub some heat back into his hand with your own.

“Well, maybe think of it this way; your mother would be proud to see who you’ve become, and how hard you fought to escape the underground. She chose to love you for the time that she had, and she still does wherever she is. She’d be sad to see you freezing your ass off out here second guessing yourself.”

Whether it was the cold or the words you sincerely spoke, you couldn’t quite tell, but the light pink hue spreading across his cheeks was a color that you found suited him nicely. With a wider smile, you took his other hand into both of yours to repeat the process of warming them back up.

“And as for your birthday, well, I think your life is worth celebrating at the very least once a year. You’ve survived again and again, despite whatever odds you face each new year. And you’ve managed to put up with me more the past few weeks, so that’s a feat all in its own.”

To your surprise, a soft chuckle met the end of your speech. The corner of Levi’s lips were slightly upturned and the color in his cheeks had yet to fade.

Another first for you, was seeing the thin watery line cresting his eyes as he partially turned away, glancing one last time up at the sky before looking back at you and gripping your hands with both of his.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he all but whispered, swallowing back any more emotion from slipping out.

Shaking your head with a bemused grin, you squeezed his hands and daringly reached in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Of course, I’m here for you. Always.”

With a gentle tug at his hands, you began to lead him away from the spot he hadn’t moved from in god knows how long.

“Now, let’s get you back inside. Maybe we could sit by the fire in the mess hall? Last I checked it wasn’t occupied, so we can have the space to ourselves for a bit.”

He merely nodded his head with an approving hum, holding on tighter to your hand as you led the way.

“Good, we’ll also grab some tea to cheer you up! And while we’re at it, we can talk about you at least letting me celebrate this birthday with you? Please?

Your eager prompting was met with the faint sound of him clicking his tongue in mock annoyance as he followed closely after you.

“I guess I can tolerate that. But no sappy bullshit, you hear? I don’t want this to be any kind of big deal.”

“So I cant tell Hange or Erwin?”

“You especially cannot tell them. I just…Want this to be between you and me.” Levi mumbled, avoiding the awestruck look you shot him over your shoulder, and the playful cooing that followed. Seeing his embarrassed scowl, you ceased your innocent teasing.

“Okay, okay, no sappy bullshit. But you never know, you might like it. Can’t say you don’t like something till you’ve tried it, you know?”

While you rambled on about how you would spoil him into enjoying a birthday for once, he listened in silence with a warm smile aimed at your back. Who knew, maybe he would enjoy this year’s celebrations after all, now that he had you to celebrate with.

As the two of you walked hand in hand back across the training field towards the base, snow startled to lazily float down from the heavens and fill the indents Levi’s shoes had set against the frosty grass only moment before as dusk fell over the land.

Perhaps it was nature’s way of accepting Levi finally leaving the baggage of his troubled thoughts in the past where they now belonged, you idly thought as you peered out from under the blanket you shared with your lover towards the window to watch the snowflakes fall some time later.

But here in this moment, resting your head on his shoulder by the fire with a warm mug of tea perched in your lap, you knew you’d always come to his aid if the snow didn’t brush the woes away.

#happy birthday levi #lynn’s drabbles #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman drabbles #snk #aot #aot fluff #snk fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi x you #happy birthday levi ackerman

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ja3hwa · 11 months

Note

Hi Jae! Could you do 19 with Yeosang?

Prompts : 19 "You're not playing fair."

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : You were Bestfriend. You loved one another so much to the point that you hated each other. Well, at least video games and help you let off steam... among other things.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.26k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Suggestive, Fluff, Gamer Au

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Bestfriend!Yeosang x Bestfriend!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Swearing. Mention of sex. Dirty talk. Teasing.

Note: Hello Ruby, My darling. I hope you are well. And I certainly hope you enjoy this read♡♡

Over and over again. Game after game. Whether it was video games, board games, physical or mental games, and tricks. Yeosang and You were both determined to beat one another.

It started out light-hearted when you were kids. Just innocent banter and competition. But as you got older, it became more heated. Fights broke out and more than one occasion. Mostly verbal fights, but when you too started wrestling for a victor, your other friends would have to pull you off each other and put you in time out as if you were still kids. Neither of you was violent by any means, but the tension between you two was high. You became rivals more than friends. Enemies even. You didn't hate each other, though. In fact, you could stay away from one another to the point when you both graduated college, you moved in together.

Some may say it was a bad idea, but your friendship became ultimately stronger because of it. Your fighting lessened. Your bickering had almost stopped. Leaving nothing but friendly competition. But something out sparked, something that had always been there, but it has only surface now. Sexual tension. The way you would catch yourself staring too long at Yeosang's arm as he works out. Or the way he would shamelessly watch you in only your oversized shirt―his old shirt―and panties in the early morning trying to reach for a cereal bowl that is on the top shelf. He always got a perfect view of your ass and the way it jiggled when you jumped. You both were quickly becoming more and more frustrated with one another in that aspect, and it made it exceptionally harder when you both were playing video games.

This was one of these nights.

You were sitting so deliciously in your loose sleep shirt and your way to short PJ bottoms. Yeosang could tell you weren’t wearing a bra from the way your tits would bounce when you moved in the attention of the game you were playing. Tonight was Mario night, so of course, Mario Kart was one of the games you both were playing. After you finished setting his up, you peered over to Yeosang, letting him know it was ready. And even though he was indeed excited to play the game―more so beat your ass in it―he couldn’t help but feel saddened at the fact he could no longer keep looking at you.

“You ready for me to beat your ass?” You drew him out of his thoughts with a smug remark and smirk panting for pretty features. God, how he wishes to wipe that grin off your face with his own mouth.

“You mean are you ready for me to beat your ass.” his words were indented for the game, but he also thought of the idea of spanking your ass raw until you were screaming over his lap. He had to place a pillow on his lap for the rest of the night as his mind kept wandering to the dirty side every time you jumped wiggled or sighed next to him. His patients were wearing thin, but little did he know, you knew exactly what you were doing.

Purposely, walking around the house bottomless, bra-less, or just with minimal clothing in general. You could feel his stare on your body and the way his eyes hooded when his gazes racked over your legs. And what made you start this secret game was when you overheard him over the phone to one of your friends mentioning he has a huge crush on you and that he doesn’t know if he should confess or not. So here you sit, playing dirty, like you’ve always done with him. But this time, it was for more than a cheap victor in a game. No, you wanted him to give up and confess his love.

“Come on, slow poke!!” He cheered, finally getting past you on the road, whacking you with a bomb before flying off in front. You grumbled out, trying your best to catch him. One more lap left, if he wins I swear to fuck. You thought, suddenly getting an idea. You were both near the finish line, just one more bend left. Which was a bend in the road that took a lot of concentration and if you don’t drift at the right time you’ll crash into the sidebars. So as you both started to turn you spoke.

“Hey, Sangie we should fuck afterwards.”

Oh, the poor boy's brain just short-circuited. Did you really just say what he thought? Taking his eyes off the game, he looked at you for a second, noticing your expression was still the same. Your game face, as he called it. Tongue poking out with frowned brows. With his attention being shifted, you managed to hit him with a banana peel before just by only a mere couple of inches, beat him over the finish line.

“YES!!!”

His gaze snapped to the screen, seeing he had lost. Did you trick him? He couldn’t believe you tricked him with the promise of sex. He huffed, throwing his pillow on his lap towards the tv, but alas, it landed lazily just in front of the coffee table, not making an impact with anything. “You’re not playing fair. I would have won if it was for—”

He cut himself off quickly. Maybe he heard you wrong. No, he definitely had to have heard you wrong. You were his best friend, his second half, and his partner in crime. You wouldn’t say something like that, right?

“For what, Sangie?” You tilted your head, looking over at him with a small smile. “for saying we should fuck?”

“Oh god.” Yep, he definitely heard correctly. “You can’t say things like that doll.” he leant back, letting his head rest on the top of the couch, his arm draping over his eyes, thinking he might wake up at any moment, and this was just his brain trying to torture him

“Why not?” You placed your controller on the table before crawling over his lap, letting your thighs sit on either side of him. He could feel the heat of your core against him, making him rumble a sound deep in his chest. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“I….” He couldn’t answer. It was like everyone in his brain had gone home for the evening, leaving Yeosang to for defend himself. There was a silence for a moment before you let out a chuckle, and not just a little chuckle no, no. This was a hardy chuckle, one that could bring you to tears if you kept going. You place your hand on his shoulder, letting him soften his stiff body and let out a slow breath he had no idea he had been holding.

“It’s okay, Sangie. We don’t have to. I was just teasing you.” You knew he liked you, and you liked him. But you didn’t want to break the poor boy's mind. “Let’s play another round, and if you win, we can do whatever you want next. And if I win, I get to pick. Okay?”

He could only nod before finally snapping out of his daze. He grabs his controller in a manner of determination. Your smile never faltered as you gabbed your own controller. He now needed to win and was going to do anything in order to get his way. And little does he know, you were -for one- going to help him. Cause even though you are competitive and wish to win, nothing would be more pleasing than seeing what Yeosang would do once he won.

- ♥︎

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overleftdown · 4 months

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farleigh analysis PART 3, because i might as well do the entire movie at this point. i'm locked in. this is going to cover the early-saltburn summer era. AKA, oliver's once in a lifetime, hand job on a haybale, golden big boy summer. everything after venetia and oliver's sex scene is in another post on my blog. this one is pretty short.

[0:34:42] (they're watching superbad. teehee.)

farleigh looks borderline revolted in the background of this shot, which is so funny to me. superbad is, in my opinion, notoriously rude. the comedy is hollow, childish, homophobic, etc. even seth rogan admits that the movie is tone deaf and aged horribly. that's neither here nor there, though. all i'm saying is that i can't imagine farleigh would enjoy the movie as a queer person.

[0:35:19] elsbeth: is that right, he had to put his fingers down his mother's throat to make her sick? farleigh: yeah. felix: farleigh, that's private stuff! farleigh: well, you told us. felix: in confidence!

when elsbeth initially asks the question, she's looking directly at farleigh. yet, when felix confronts farleigh about discussing private matters, farleigh responds with "well, you told us." meaning the family, i assume. felix had no issue with elsbeth and pamela discussing oliver's home life until farleigh was very moderately involved. it's odd to me. and yes, felix is the one that told them. moral superiority, or something. having someone to blame, even when you enabled their gossiping in the first place.

[0:35:34] elsbeth: we should give him the most wonderful time! farleigh: good luck, he doesn't smile much. elsbeth: farleigh seems to think he's ghastly. why are you friends with him, darling?

really, you can tell that elsbeth likes farleigh. she respects his opinion to a certain extent. i also talked about the tutor scene in part 2, and how i consider the "style over substance" debate a metaphorical parallel to farleigh over oliver. here, farleigh once again points out the style of oliver's social interactions: he doesn't smile much. when you look at this from a social and... neurotypical perspective, lacking a smile during conversation can mean a lot of negative things. farleigh seems to have a dedicated focus on arbitrary social expectations, largely because he has to.

[0:35:33] farleigh: and here he is now! we were just talking about you. elsbeth: don't be silly! farleigh, you just make up the most awful things. of course we weren't!

once again, in traditional catton fashion, farleigh is scolded for saying doing something that contrasts the cattons saviorism. obviously oliver knew they were talking about them. i can't blame elsbeth for attempting to backtrack, but "farleigh, you just make up the most awful things" is a weirdly unnecessary throat punch. she's stepping on farleigh to appear taller, if you will. at 0:36:34, when elsbeth asks oliver to sit by her, farleigh looks so exceptionally irritated. he rolls his eyes, looks back towards his computer, and sighs dramatically. wonderful. he's so sick and tired.

[0:37:20] elsbeth: i've lost so many friends to addiction. so, so many dear, dear friends. it's the root of poor pamela's horrors too, i'm afraid. farleigh: and the only interesting thing about her. elsbeth: farleigh! no, she is rather dull, actually. but she's so beautiful. you have to admit, she's very beautiful.

elsbeth and her obsession with physical appearances. once again, style over substance. and her outrage at farleigh refusing to soften the blow on his statements, before following it with her own (albeit less crude) dig at pamela. style over substance. wouldn't it a little uncanny, a little scary, to be the only person of color in a household that places physical appearance on such a high pedestal? especially a household as ignorant as the cattons. that's just conjecture, though. oliver has the ability to manipulate a space for himself in the family without sacrificing any of the qualities he began with. he never really smiles more, throughout the summer. he never really loses his signature awkwardness, his imposing energy.

[0:40:05] elsbeth: you know we're delighted to have you for however long it is you mean to stay. farleigh: forever...? pamela: oh, no. i think i might have, erm, found somewhere. elsbeth: oh, well done, darling! james: oh, good!

right after james says "good," you can see farleigh turning to look at him. prompting james to drop the hatchet on pamela's prolonged stay at saltburn, i'm assumng. this is what's interesting to me, i think. again, farleigh lacks the drive to play the same game as oliver. farleigh doesn't want to nurture the charitable actions of the cattons. farleigh believes the other guests at saltburn take up the space that he would otherwise fill. just like at oxford, when felix is sitting with someone else, farleigh is discarded. when elsbeth invited oliver to sit next to her, farleigh looks annoyed. the cattons capacity for attention and kindness is depressingly small. farleigh isn't playing chess, he's trying to win by sheer survival of the fittest.

for the next few, brief scene of farleigh and oliver interacting, oliver repeatedly proves that he does his research. i can't get over it, to be honest. neither can farleigh; if looks could kill, oliver would've been dead within 10 minutes of arriving at saltburn. the methods farleigh and oliver uses to remain relevant in the catton catalogue are so wildly different. farleigh, who uses his personality and social skills to keep the cattons entertained and charmed by him. i'm sure he loves to gossip with elsbeth, wine and dines with venetia, and he clearly does everything in his power to stay glued to felix's side throughout the school year. this is someone who has never considered manipulating the cattons; he just wants to be one of them, and he wants it to be easy. can you blame him?

#saltburn 2023 #saltburn #farleigh start #oliver quick #felix catton #elsbeth catton #rararararara #i'm off the henny or something like that #yipee!#movies :P

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jerzwriter · 4 months

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A Little Holiday Cheer

Happy Holidays!

@lilyoffandoms had no idea what they were creating when they wrote a tiny drabble about these three sets of loons. Since then, Lily, Dani (@storyofmychoices), and I have expanded on their hijinx, and it just gets more fun with time. I asked the lovely, talented, and all-around amazing @/artbyainna (IG) to create this commemoration not only of the friendship between Ethan, Merida, Bryce, Olivia, Casey & Tobias but, more importantly, the friendship between us! 😊 As always, she MORE than delivered! I hope this brings you a little smile.

Book: Open Heart Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Merida (@lilyoffandoms), Bryce Lahela x Olivia (@storyofmychoices), and Tobias Carrick x Casey (mine!) Rating: Teen Words: 825 Summary: It all started at Ethan & Merida's place, so it's only fitting that we go back there again!

There was something about this time of year... even the mundane seemed to morph into magic, and tonight's gathering of friends was no exception. While the robust aroma of lasagna competed with the sweet scent of sugar cookies baking in the second oven, neither managed to diffuse the fragrant pine from the Christmas tree. Music served only as a background to the laughter and lively chatter, but while Bryce and Olivia were too engaged in the conversation.. and each other... to notice the music shift from soulful renditions of holiday standards back to melodic strings and woodwinds, Merida didn’t miss a beat. Resplendent in her holiday attire, she halted slicing provolone for the charcuterie board long enough to shoot Ethan a menacing glare.

“Ethan Jonah Ramsey, so help me God! If you turn Stevie off to put The Nutcracker back on one more time, I will not be responsible for my actions!”

“I’d be careful,” Bryce advised. “She is holding an exceptionally large knife.”

Ethan started to open his mouth, then thought better of it. With a quick flick of the wrist, “That’s What Christmas Means to Me My Love” blared through the air once more.

“What did it?” Olivia teased. “Knowing you were outnumbered, or the large knife?”

Ethan leaned against the counter, popped a piece of chorizo in his mouth, and shrugged. “It’s the season of goodwill. Let's go with that.” His half-smile quickly retreated when Merida slapped his hand.

“There will be no goodwill in this house if you keep sneaking food! You have to wait until all of our guests arrive.”

A sigh tinged with frustration escaped him. “I fail to see why we all need to starve because Carrick is late... again.”

“Technically, he’s not late,” Olivia advised.

“She’s right,” Merida agreed. “It’s only seven-fifty, and dinner starts at eight. They have ten minutes before we can declare them late.”

Ethan turned to her with astonishment. “But I was there when you told him to be here at seven!”

“Yes,” Merida said matter-of-factly. “I told him that to ensure they’d be here by eight.”

“But since it's Tobias and Casey we're talking about,” Bryce interjected. “You probably should have told them six."

"True," Olivia nodded, biting into a fluffy cheese puff. “Knowing Casey, she’ll want to redo her hair and makeup.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows in disbelief as Merida smiled. “What?” she asked.

“Olivia is eating a cheese puff and not an ounce of chastisement from you... but I sneak a sliver of sausage, and you considered dismemberment!”

“Ethan...Olivia is a guest! Besides, she’s too cute to dismember.”

The doorbell rang, and the friends looked at their phones at 7:58 PM.

“Wow! They’re early!” Bryce exclaimed. “And they say Christmas miracles are a thing of the past!”

“Great,” Merida laughed as she wiped her hands with a dish towel. “That means they probably didn’t get it all out of their systems, and they’ll be horny on main all night.”

“And that would be different from every other time... how?” Bryce laughed.

Merida scurried down the hallway, high heels clicking, but her irritated boyfriend beat her to the door, swinging it open to find Tobias planting kisses on a giggling Casey’s neck.

“Do you two ever stop?”

“What?” Tobias protested with a sheepish grin. “We weren’t doing anything. We were just stuck in....”

“TRAFFIC!” The four friends shouted.

“That is what they call it these days,” Olivia winked, all too proud of herself. "Aren't they?"

“Hey! You can’t blame us,” Casey said, tossing her fuzzy coat over Ethan’s unextended arm. “Boston is just filled with traffic!”

“Mmmhmmm,” Merida greeted her friend with a warm embrace. “And you two are always without GPS.”

“That’s right,” Casey smiled. “We prefer to go by... feel.”

“Can we send them home now?” Ethan groaned.

But Merida and Casey were already halfway down the hall, linked arm-in-arm and giggling like schoolgirls. Ethan jumped when Tobias’s hand landed on his shoulder with a thud.

“You were saying, buddy?”

Running a hand down his face, Ethan surrendered. “Olivia is right. I’m outnumbered.”

Moments later, the couples were assembled around the kitchen table, with wine generously poured. Ethan happily partook in cured meats as he endured one too many jokes about salami from his best-freinemy.

“Tobias, I swear, you never escaped adolescence.”

“Was that something we were supposed to escape?”

Bryce raised his glass with a smile. “Only during working hours!”

“And these are not working hours,” Merida gleefully stated. “A toast... to friends, who have become family.”

“And by family, she means you’re inescapable!” Ethan grinned.

“Just like adolescence,” Casey beamed, clinking her glass with the others.

Merida set her eyes on Ethan’s, a radiant smile on her lips. “And would you have it any other way?”

Wrapping his arm around her waist he pulled her close. "No," he beamed. "Despite each of you, save Olivia, causing me more grey hairs by the moment... I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Several drinks in, you know they started teasing Tobias about his "Ho-Ho-Ho" sweater. Everyone except Olivia, who wasn't sure what they meant until Bryce whispered it in her ear. Merida and Casey quickly agreed to corrupt the poor dear much more before their New Year's Eve gathering!

Happy Holidays! :)

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanart @openheartfanfics

@choicesholidays "I'm Thankful for You"

@choicesdecember2023 Christmas

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #choices fanart #open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan x merida #bryce lahela #bryce x olivia #tobias carrick #tobias x casey #playchoices #choices stories you play #open heart fanfic #open heart fanart #christmas #holiday fics #holiday art #choices openheart

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

Text

Midnight | Chapter 6 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you spend the night in West Virginia, in which you find yourself in a slightly awkward situation. When you move on to a small town in Illinois, you make a decision that could end up being your downfall, while Spencer tries to take his mind off his growing attraction towards you.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - blood, murder, masturbation (male), slight voyeurism, slightly aggressive Spencer, swearing, drinking, making out, tears.

WC - 5k

Chapter Six - Raise No Fool

Logan, West Virginia was, by all accounts, an exceptionally boring place. There was nothing particularly interesting about it, aside from maybe its proximity to the Appalachian Mountains.

The town boasted two restaurants, Morrison’s Drive In with its “world famous” hot dogs or Chirico’s Ristorante, a family owned Italian joint which was where you and Spencer had eaten dinner upon arrival in town. Shopping was just as sparse as was any other kind of activity in these parts. But you supposed you weren’t here for a vacation.

The Chapmanville Inn, the fifty bucks a night motel Spencer had picked out was cheap but certainly not cheerful. The old building had definitely seen better days, a lick of paint would have gone a long way. Then again, knocking it down entirely and starting over again would have gone further.

The room was smaller than your already pokey living room at home. It had twin beds, a wobbly table with a single chair you wouldn't think out of place in an elementary school, a stained blue carpet and little else. At the very least your room had its own bathroom, worryingly not all of them did.

You hadn’t said much of anything to Spencer for the rest of the drive or over dinner. He kept trying to engage you but you responded with little more than perfunctory sounds and nods. Eventually he gave up trying.

He’d allowed you to call Luke from the car outside the restaurant while he listened intently to everything you said to ensure that you didn’t incriminate him. You were sure Luke could sense something was amiss, between you telling him you’d left without your phone and that he couldn’t contact you on your replacement device, you knew he was suspicious. You’d ended the call telling him you would be in touch soon.

When you checked into the Chapmanville Inn, under the names of Andrew and Rose Burnett with their Colorado drivers licences and paying cash, you went straight through to the bathroom to shower.

You spent a long time under the measly flow of luke-warm water, cleaning yourself with the hotel shower gel which had an odd scent that you couldn’t place. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant but it certainly wasn’t nice either.

You dried yourself off and changed your clothes and when you stepped back into the bedroom, you found it empty. Spencer was nowhere to be seen and neither were the two firearms or his hunting knife. The only thing left behind were your bags and the clothes he’d been wearing earlier neatly laid out on one of the beds.

You padded over to the window and pushed the curtain aside to look out at the parking lot. The little navy Nissan was no longer in the spot Spencer had parked it in.

Your first thought was to run. It could be your only chance to get away from Spencer’s manic clutches. The lobby must have a phone, you could call Luke and tell him everything and get him to come and pick you up. Or you could call the cops and have them come for Spencer, but on what grounds?

You had no proof he had done anything wrong and you weren’t here entirely under duress. Spencer hadn’t forced you at gunpoint to come with him, ok so he’d threatened you but you could have gotten out of this if you’d really wanted to. When Luke hugged you at the BAU and obscured your phone’s microphone you could have told him what was going on but you didn’t. You didn’t tip Luke off for the same reason you weren’t going to run now.

You didn’t want to. And that was what scared you most about this whole situation. You had no intention of going anywhere because you wanted to be here with Spencer, no matter how foolish that made you. And you were sure Spencer knew it too, otherwise he wouldn’t have left you here alone. If he’d thought you would run he never would have gone anywhere without you.

Goddamint, I am in way over my head.

You sat down on the free bed and quickly fell back against the pillows. You hadn’t realised how tired you were until you laid down. The last few days had taken its toll on you, coupled with the lack of sleep you’d had due to your nightmares and you were exhausted. You felt your eyes fluttering closed within seconds of your head hitting the pillow. You didn’t even manage to get under the sheet before you were drifting off to sleep.

***

You weren’t sure what woke you. Maybe it was the sound of the door being closed or the light that emanated from the crack in the bathroom door. Maybe it was the metallic smell that filled your nostrils and pulled you out of sleep.

You rubbed your eyes, momentarily forgetting where you were as your brain roused into consciousness. You became aware of the sound of running water. A tap? No, the shower. You sat yourself up in bed and saw the trail of clothes leading to the bathroom door. Socks. Jeans. A hoodie. A pair of boxers. No shirt.

You swung your legs out of the bed without having the forethought to do so and were soon pushing yourself to your feet. You didn’t have to go far before you found the offending item, draped over a garbage bag on the back of the chair.

Even in the dark room you could tell the material was soaked in blood, mostly by the smell. You’d already assumed where Spencer had gone tonight and now you had proof.

Still there was no sign of the guns or the knife.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept towards the bathroom and poked your head around the crack in the door. Sitting on the sink basin, either side of the faucet were the two firearms Spencer had taken from your storage container. Inside the basin, soaking in some water was the partially bloody knife.

Feeling your stomach turn, you went to return to bed before Spencer saw you creeping around but as you turned away from the sink your eyes landed on the shower.

Through the flimsy yellow-ish curtain you could make out the perfect outline of Spencer’s body as he stood under the shower head. The lighting couldn’t have been more ideal, showcasing every dip and curve of his figure in silhouette.

You couldn't quite work out if he was facing you or the wall as his hands moved to run through his hair. You could however make out his slim waist and his strong thighs. You heard him exhale sharply through parted lips as he moved his hands from his hair further down his body.

When he turned to the side you had to hold back a gasp and clamped your hand over your mouth at the sight. His cock was standing at full attention and one of his hands was wrapped around it. When his hand started to move you had to bite down on your hand to stop from making a sound.

Your eyes were glued to his crotch, mesmerised by the way his hand glided up and down his hard length. You pressed your thighs together where you stood feeling dizzy at the sight and wishing there wasn’t a shower curtain hindering your view.

It wasn’t long before you felt yourself getting wet, your arousal soaking into the fabric of your panties. You wanted to follow Spencer’s lead and touch yourself, or better, have Spencer touch you. But you didn’t move. You kept frozen still, watching him behind the curtain whilst biting down on your hand.

Small pants and soft moans were coming from Spencer’s lips and you were possibly more turned on than you’d ever been in your life. You would give anything to just hop in that shower with him, to have a front row seat to what he was doing to himself, maybe even help him out.

You were caught up in your fantasy, lost in imagination of what it would be like to have Spencer fuck you up against those grimy shower tiles. So when a voice interrupted your sordid thoughts, you yelped in shock.

“You can either join me in here or go back to bed. I don’t need an audience, princess.” Spencer’s tone was amused yet breathy and he didn’t stop stroking himself as he spoke.

He’d known you were watching him since you walked into the bathroom, the thin curtain worked both ways he’d been able to see you peeping on him. It was the only reason he’d gotten hard in the first place and he’d decided to give you a bit of a show. But you had to pay the cover charge if you wanted the grand finale.

You made a pathetic whimpering sound like a puppy being kicked in the ribs and then he heard you scurrying away and shutting the door firmly behind you. He smiled to himself, shaking his head and continuing his activity once he was alone. He hadn’t expected you to join him, although he certainly wouldn’t have been upset if you had. He was aware you were attracted to him, as he was to you, but he wasn’t going to push you.

He stroked himself to completion and made sure to moan louder than was strictly necessary when he came, to ensure you heard him. He inspected his body after and once he was sure he had rinsed off all the blood, he shut the shower off and got out.

He dried himself off, dressed in a clean pair of underwear and a clean shirt. He cleaned off the blade soaking in the sink before taking it and the firearms and leaving the room. Your bed was furthest from the bathroom and you laid on your side with your back to him. He knew you weren’t asleep as your breathing wasn’t deep enough, but he’d let you pretend that you were.

He took the knife and the guns and tucked them inside the nightstand between his bed and the bathroom door. He collected up the clothes he’d deposited on the floor and put them and the blood stained t-shirt in the garbage bag. The rags he’d used to clean the inside of the Nissan after disposing of the body went inside the bag too.

Turning back to you he had an overwhelming desire to crawl into the small single bed next to you, turn you on your back and pin you down to the mattress so hard he left bruises on your wrists, maybe even some between your legs.

But he refrained. There would be plenty of time for that, and he was sure it would happen. But right now you were like a frightened deer, seconds away from retreating back into the woods at any given moment. He needed to bide his time, let you come to him. But he would have you, he was sure of it.

He crawled into his own bed and mirrored your position, laying on his side so he could watch the back of your head. You seemed to tense up, as though you could feel his eyes on you somehow. He smiled against the pillow, closing his eyes and still seeing you behind his lids.

“Good night my darling Rose.” He mumbled, but as expected, he didn’t receive a reply.

***

The following day you somehow spoke less than the one before. This time you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him unless he forced you to and when he did an adorable blush would spread to your cheeks. You clearly felt awkward about what you’d witnessed last night but Spencer didn’t. And he would use your embarrassment to his advantage.

Your silence made for an extremely long journey. It was almost five hundred miles between Logan and his next planned pit stop in Edwardsville, Illinois. It took just over eight hours to make the drive with the couple of stops for gas he’d had to make.

He had no target in Illinois. He probably could have found one if he’d wanted to but he was keen to reach his final destination without going off route too much in search of victims and Edwardsville was just a quick detour off of the I-70, barely taking him away from the interstate.

He’d chosen the Heartland B&B for the night, which was a huge step up from the rundown Chapmanville Inn last night and about triple the price. But his generosity went unnoticed by you.

It was an old farmhouse style building, set back from the road and surrounded by woodlands. The room was cosy and most importantly, clean. However, there was only one bed.

You had a scowl on your face as you sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Spencer in frustration. There was a couch on one wall but it was far too small for a person of his height to sleep on.

“Do you think you’ll be able to keep your hands to yourself if we share a bed, Y/N?” He teased you but it only made you scowl grow.

“We will share this bed in your dreams.” You scoffed.

“Oh we certainly will.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“I mean it, I am not sharing a bed with you.” You folded your arms in defiance.

“You expect me to sleep on that?” He nodded his head in the direction of the tiny couch.

“Or the floor. The bathtub. I don’t really care. But you aren’t sleeping here.”

Spencer stepped closer to you, surprising you when he grabbed you roughly by the bicep and pulled you up to your feet. He was bearing his teeth at you like a wild animal.

“I think you’ve forgotten who has the power here, princess. You will sleep where I tell you to sleep. And if you keep sassing me, that will be in the car.” He spat at you, squeezing your arm so tightly he would surely leave a bruise.

Suddenly he let you go, shoving you back to the bed and making you whine slightly. He turned his back on you, allowing you to see one of the weapons and the knife sheathed in the back of his pants as though giving you a warning. You watched him walk back over to the door and throw it open.

“Off on another vigilante mission?” You scoffed and he froze at your words in the open doorway.

He exhaled noisily before slowly turning back to face you. He looked more annoyed than you’d ever seen him, as though your mere presence was a burden right now.

“No,” he hissed. “I’m going to find somewhere to have a fucking drink.”

He didn’t wait for you to reply before he stepped outside and slammed the door closed behind him. You felt your cheeks burning with your anger and you let out a frustrated scream, slamming your fists against the mattress.

You were growing sick of this. You’d let Spencer drag you halfway across the country only for him to treat you like a nuisance. You’d thought you were here to help, to be somewhat useful to him but instead you were to stay hauled up in hotel rooms while he went out and did whatever the fuck he wanted.

No, not anymore. You weren’t going to let him treat you like this. If you were in this, you were in it together or you were leaving. You jumped up from the bed, marched to the door and threw it open before disappearing into the night.

***

Luke had just put down Roxy’s food when his cell phone rang from the coffee table. He patted the dog on the head with a sigh as he prayed it wouldn’t be Garcia calling to say they had yet another case.

The team was worn extremely thin after the loss of two members and the cases seemed never ending. It was the first evening he’d gotten to spend at home in such a long time and he pleaded that he wasn’t about to be called back to Quantico.

The number flashing on his screen wasn’t one he recognised and he frowned as he picked up the device and answered it.

“Hello?” He leant against the back of the couch.

“Luke, it’s Y/N.” Your voice floated to his ears and he breathed a sigh of relief but it was only temporary. Your tone was a little frantic, quiet and if he wasn’t mistaken almost scared.

“Is everything ok?” He quickly stood up straight as he started to panic.

“Yeah. Yeah everything’s fine.” You tried to level your voice.

“This isn’t the number you usually call from.” He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention, something didn’t sit right with him.

“I went for a walk and left my cell phone at my parent’s.”

“Y/N,” He swallowed. “You would tell me if something is wrong right? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” You tried to insist. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You’re sure? Because I’m really starting get concerned that-”

“I said I’m fine. Jeez, Alvez, paranoid much?” You chuckled but it didn’t sound like your usual laugh.

“You’re sure? I mean it Y/N you can tell me if…” He trailed off when he heard a beeping in his ear. He pulled the device away from his face and saw the incoming call from Garcia. He groaned as he put it back to his ear. “Sorry, Y/N it’s Garcia. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh, ok.” You squeaked. “Sure, I’ll call you soon, yeah?”

“I hope you do.” He swallowed again. “Y/N promise me you’re ok. Promise me that…Y/N? Hello?” He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose when he realised the line had gone dead.

You quickly replaced the pay phone in its cradle and rolled your eyes at your stupidity. You were not in the right frame of mind to be calling Luke, of course he would see through your thinly veiled attempts to pretend you were ok. You just hoped he didn’t think much of it, hopefully the case Garcia was calling him about would take his mind off of you.

You leant back against the glass booth and ran your fingers through your hair. You’d gone storming out of the hotel so quickly you hadn’t stopped to think that you didn’t have a key. You could go back and wait for Spencer in the lobby but who knew how long he would be out for. He’d said he was going for a drink, how many bars could there be in a tiny town like Edwardsville?

As is by some stroke of luck, you noticed a flyer tacked to the inside of the phone booth and stepped closer to it. It was crudely made, no real effort gone into it. You recognised it from the bulletin board in the lobby of the Heartland and could only assume they were posted all over town. It was a flyer for a bar proclaiming two for one shots on Tuesday nights.

Tonight was Tuesday night. And if you were Spencer, this was the place you would go.

You grabbed the flyer, pulling it down off of the glass and taking it with you as you marched across the street in the hopes of finding a cab in this backwoods town.

***

The Corner Tavern, conveniently located at the corner of Main and Union streets, was somehow exactly how Spencer imagined it to look. It looked like it had been plucked right out of an old western, with its hanging sign proclaiming its name and saloon style doors. But inside was a completely different story.

They’d clearly kept the facade for its charm but inside it had been renovated to reflect a much more modern setting. Loud music played from tinny speakers and the lights were almost too bright for his liking. Most surfaces were a garish silver and combined with the lighting hurt his eyes a little.

But it offered two for one on shots and after walking for almost three miles from the hotel, he was in desperate need of a drink. Or five.

He ordered two shots of Bourbon and necked them in quick succession before ordering another two as well as a glass of scotch. Double. Once again he quickly took the shots before meandering around to find a table.

He’d locked one of the guns and his hunting knife up in the glovebox of the Nissan, not wanting to be seen as a threat to the locals. But he still kept the little Colt tucked inside his boot, he wasn’t a complete idiot.

He had been sitting down for approximately two minutes before he had company in the form of a curvaceous blonde who was almost half his age. She was likely tipsy, certainly flirting. That was confirmed when she bypassed the other chairs at the table in lieu of sitting directly on Spencer’s lap. He couldn’t tell if she’d missed the wedding band on his finger or simply didn’t care.

He’d be lying if he said didn’t find her attractive and that he didn’t appreciate her attention. Maybe a fling with a beautiful young girl he would never see again was just what he needed. It had been a frightfully long time since he’d been intimate with someone.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, grinding herself a little in his lap as she did so. She moved close to his ear and he felt her hot breath on the side of his face.

“I’m Sarah.” Her lips brushed against his ear lobe.

“Andrew.” He replied, thinking it easier and wiser to use his alias.

“You’ve got a hot professor thing going on, Andrew.” She giggled and the sound was akin to nails on a chalkboard to Spencer but he ignored it.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.” He let one arm snake around her waist, holding her place.

His other ventured upwards, cupping her cheek while his fingers threaded into her hair. He used his grip on her to pull her head back from his ear. Her eyes were glossed over from alcohol consumption and her lips were pouting at him, desperately inviting.

He really couldn’t be blamed when he tugged her closed and slammed his lips against hers. She certainly didn’t seem to mind as she was quick to let him plunge his tongue in her mouth.

He gripped her face as he kissed her and she in turn wrapped her arms around his neck. She adjusted herself in his lap until she was straddling him and the way in which she rocked against him had him growing hard in no time.

She moaned shamelessly against his lips, would probably have even let him fuck her right there in the middle of the bar for anyone to watch. Her desperation turned him on and disgusted him in equal measure. But it didn’t stop him deepening the kiss and grinding upwards to meet her.

Maybe they could go somewhere with a little more privacy, the alley down the side of the tavern could work. He could so easily get her on her knees for him, he was sure he could get this hopeless girl to do just about anything for him.

His free hand glided under her shirt and across the planes of her back. He wondered how many other men this pathetic creature had let take advantage of her. Were older men always her type? He would be willing to bet she had daddy issues that he would be more than happy to exploit. Only he didn’t get that chance.

Suddenly Spencer found himself being forcibly pulled away from Sarah by his hair, a hand threading into his locks and roughly tugging him by the roots. He sat back with a frown while Sarah’s arms fell to her sides, expecting to see an angry boyfriend or something standing over them, he was already concocting a way out of this in his head. But what he saw instead was somehow worse.

Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply in anger as you glared at him, your lips pulled into a tight line of frustration. But it was your eyes that contradicted the rest of your expression, your large, sad eyes that were filled with tears as you looked at him with this woman straddling his lap.

Sarah wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at you in annoyance at your interruption. Spencer barely paid her any notice, all he could look at was you and how it looked as though your heart was breaking.

“What the hell, lady? We were kind of in the middle of something here.” She got up from Spencer’s lap and approached you, folding her arms across her ample chest.

“So I saw.” You squared your shoulders. “I hate to break this to you, but I’m his wife.”

You proffered your hand towards the blonde, showing off the worn gold band on your ring finger. Spencer couldn’t help the smirk that jumped to his lips as you played the part of scorned wife so perfectly.

Sarah frowned, looking between the ring and Spencer who was still sitting dumbly in the chair. He shrugged at Sarah, not at all looking sympathetic.

“In my defence,” He pushed himself up, sidling between you and Sarah. “You didn’t ask.”

“Go to hell, jackass!” Sarah suddenly slapped him hard around the face, with a force that caused Spencer to stumble on his feet.

He groaned at the impact, cupping his cheek in his hand. He knew he couldn’t argue with Sarah, not without admitting your marriage was part of a fabricated identity anyway, so he let her storm away.

“See, I would deserve that if we were actually married.” He joked, turning to where you stood.

He felt the exact moment his heart shattered in his chest. Taking in the tears now silently rolling down your cheeks and your quivering bottom lip he felt the pain he’d caused you by kissing that stranger tenfold in his own heart. You looked utterly forlorn as you stared at him with the most broken look in your eyes he’d ever seen.

“Y/N…” He whispered, stepping closer to you. “I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t realise that you…that we…”

He trailed off as he saw you raising your arm. Seconds later another blow landed on the same cheek, this time even harder and he yelped in pain. You worked out a lot, you boxed in your spare time. That wasn’t fair at all.

“I second what she said,” you spat as angrily as you could muster given your tears. “Go to hell, jackass.”

Spencer went to speak but you were already turning on your heels and fleeing the bar. He wanted to call after you but he’d already garnered a lot of attention from other patrons who were now all staring at the jackass who had seemingly cheated on his wife.

You stormed away, your tears burning your cheeks as they fell and tried to brush them away to clear your vision as you shoved your way out of the bar and onto the dark street in the middle of a town you didn’t know.

You’d been stabbed in the back by someone you had once called your best friend. You’d been used, betrayed by the man who had given you his ring, albeit a fake one. Your mother didn’t raise a fool, so why were you letting Spencer use you as though she had?

I'm wearing rose-tinted shades but,

All I see is shades of my imagination covered in red.

A crooked smile and some fake love,

Put me in these handcuffs.

Threw away the keys 'cause I was a threat.

Well, first you try to tell me that we're family,

Then you try to tell me that it's for the best.

You promise that you'll be there if I need you,

But I don't need your handout, you can take it back.

I won't be used,

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Mm, I got a pain in my backbone,

Where'd you get that knife from?

Why the hell is it so covered in red?

I let you walk into my home,

Let you make it your own.

You tried to tear it down and,

Leave me for dead.

Well, first you try to tell me that we're family,

Then you try to tell me that it's for the best.

You promise that you'll be there if I need you,

But I don't need your handout, you can take it back.

I won't be used (no, no),

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Ladies and gentlemen,

If you're sick of being disrespected,

Let me hear you sing it, go.

I don't wanna feel,

Like my money that you're spending.

No, I don't wanna feel,

Like I'm losing 'cause you're winning, baby.

I don't wanna feel,

Like my money that you're spending.

No, I don't wanna feel,

Like I'm losing 'cause you're winning.

And I won't be used,

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging.

I won't be used,

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh (whoa),

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh (no more, no more),

Won't let you leave me hanging.

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #unsub! spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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