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#because I want to force others to witness it <3
ntaras · 7 months
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i want tomas to be corrupted by enenra so badly because he’s such a sweetheart in a lot of his dialogues
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kitten4sannie · 9 months
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𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔡
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pairing: san x fem! reader x mingi
genre: smut 
summary: minsan fuck you within an inch of your life <3
w.c: 2.4k
warnings: dom! minsan, sub! reader, san’s a meanie, mingi’s kinda a meanie but mainly a baby boy, himbo energy, threesome, somewhat heavy focus on mxm, spit roasting, spanking, face fucking, degradation, praise, name calling, kissing, facial, cum eating, snowballing, sloppy seconds, overstim, squirting, fingering, anal fingering (m receiving), masturbation, bulge kink, breeding kink, cum inflation (for a split second), creampies 
a/n: this was a request i got by a lovely anon <3 the concept of getting absolutely ruined by minsan is so goddamn hot,, i got really lost in the sauce this time around and i’m proud to say that this is actually just unapologetic filth and nothing else so i hope you enjoy~~
Masterlist
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“Hey, be a little more gentle with her, San. She’s gonna break before I get a turn,” Mingi whined with a pout, releasing the grip he had on your hair to reach across your body and run his fingers along the section of your ass that still sported San’s sizable handprint, forcing his cock further into your throat, beads of saliva and pre-cum dribbling down your bulging neck and onto the already stained sheets below.
Positioned on the opposite side of Mingi with his cock drilling into your needy hole, San rolled his eyes, slamming both hands against your ass, his fingers sinking into your stinging skin and spreading it open slightly to watch his slick cock continuously get swallowed up by your hole. “You love it, don’t you, pretty slut?”
A muffled, though enthusiastic ‘mm-hmm’ left your occupied mouth.
“See, look. She wants me to break her, Min.” San hunched forward over your body, reaching for your jaw and holding it steady as Mingi continued to thrust more than half of his over-sized length into the small opening of your throat, feeling his fingers begin to grow wet with your spit. You felt his warm breath on your back and could practically hear his shit-eating smirk, not knowing his eyes were still on Mingi, simply because he couldn’t bring himself to stop watching him wreck your throat.  “Just look at her drooling all over herself like a brainless whore. She loves to get stuffed with cock, Min, that’s why we’re here,” San chimed, hoping he was educating his glossy-eyed, panting friend, giving him a crooked smile. 
“You’re–shit–right, San,” Mingi huffed out, sweat dripping past his choppy dyed hair and off of his sharp jaw, as he hunched over your body as well and reached out, gripping both sides of your ass. He spread you open further so that San could slide in and out even easier, forcing your back to arch painfully from the way you were sandwiched between them. 
San and Mingi found themselves in a similar position before, face to face, both balls-deep in a toy they preferred to share together, cocks throbbing away as they gazed at each other’s flushed, pleasure-struck faces, unable to ignore the presence of one another’s plush lips.
“Min, lemme taste you,” San mumbled, his hand moving from your jaw to your neck to clutch it, simply to feel the heaviness of his friend’s cock against his fingers as it slipped in and out of your throat. Your gurgled noises of approval and shiny, slicked-up cunt went unnoticed once San and Mingi’s lips collided, each getting a fair share of one another’s spit, their tongues eagerly licking into each other’s groaning mouths.
When Mingi was done exploring San’s open mouth, San took the lead and sucked his friend’s larger tongue into his own mouth, his flushed cheeks hallowing slightly. When he heard a whimper, San opened his eyes to witness Mingi’s big brown eyes looking right back at him. Swallowing their combined saliva down with a gulp, San let go of your throat to grab Mingi’s chin, one hand still cemented on your hip, making sure he didn’t miss a single beat when it came to drilling himself into your sopping wet hole. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, MinMin? Huh? Are you gonna spill your load inside her tiny throat and make a big mess?” he asked in a patronizing tone, his ego growing in size when Mingi whimpered more and nodded his head quickly, a bit a drool falling from his lips. San’s dark eyes sharpened, the sides of his lips curling into a salacious smile. “Then fucking do it.”
“Okay, m’ gonna fill her fuckhole with my cum, Sannie,” Mingi exhaled delightedly, reaching down and gripping the sides of your head, suddenly pistoning his oversized length into your throat, making you gurgle and choke on it, tears spilling down your heated cheeks.
San nodded his head in agreement, wrapping his fingers around your waist so firmly, his nails left indents. “Yeah, you are. Fill her slutty little throat.” Feeling you clench tightly around him, San groaned gutturally, his eyes just about rolling into his skull, responding by jackhammering himself into your dripping cunt as quickly as he could, the sounds of your muffled cries almost louder than the lewd sound of his balls smacking against your slick skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re about to cum all over my cock just from being our own personal fuckdoll, huh?” 
A strained, muffled sound of approval exited your throat, only able to take being pounded into from both sides once more, before the dam inside you broke. Your body shuddered and your limbs almost gave out underneath you, completely zoning out from the bliss until Mingi’s cockhead slapped down onto your cheek, hot spurts of white splattering out onto your face. This was followed by something hot and sticky painting your inner walls, some of it leaking out past San’s softening length. “Fuck,” was all you could choke out, your voice a bit scratchy and deep after the abuse your throat took. 
San smiled to himself, gently rubbing your hips in soothing circles, his lower half still flush to yours. “I would pull out, but I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to knock you up, baby.” 
Turning your head back to look up at San, you licked at your lips, tasting the saltiness of Mingi’s load on your tongue. “Good.” 
San beamed at your reaction, his cock starting to harden inside you, wanting to degrade you but choosing to focus on the cum that Mingi left dripping down your flushed face. “What a messy girl. You should clean yourself up.” He slid in and out of you a bit, just to feel and listen to the filthy squelching sounds, before slowly pulling out and sitting on the mattress. 
Shuddering from the sensation of cum leaking out of you, you got up and sat back down on your knees, looking back and forth between the men, gathering up some of the lukewarm liquid on your face with two fingers. You began to suck and lick at them, moaning softly, beckoning the both of them closer once your other hand slipped in between your thighs to play with yourself. 
Slipping his hand around your waist, Mingi leaned in, running his hot tongue up the side of your cheek, collecting some of the milkiness for himself. “You’re so naughty, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his other hand clasping around one of your tits to squeeze and knead it, licking along your jawline. 
San was not far behind him, his mouth already attached to your neck to suck and lick at it, two of his thick fingers pushing into you and curling up to rub at your sensitive spot. The squeaking sound that escaped your lips made him smile against your skin, slowly kissing upwards until he got to your cheek, swiping his tiny tongue across your jaw to taste Mingi for himself. He grunted, looking over to his friend, still shoving his digits in and out of you, your juices accompanying the cum dripping down his wrist. “You need to drink more water, idiot.” 
“Huh?” Mingi mumbled absentmindedly, staring dumbly at San, remembering to grab your other tit to knead it as well, pinching your nipple between two fingers. “Something wrong with my cum?” 
“It tastes bad, you big dummy,” San hissed, removing his fingers from your cunt just as your pleasure began to crescendo, holding up his shiny, cum-coated fingers near all three of your faces. “Lick. This is what it’s supposed to taste like.” 
You pouted along with Mingi, for different reasons, licking between San’s pointer and middle finger, Mingi’s tongue joining yours to lap up the dripping cum. Before you knew it, you were passing the remaining liquid into Mingi’s open mouth using your tongue, spreading your legs open wider when his hand left your chest to cup your pussy, his palm rubbing eagerly against your swollen clit. 
San pushed his fingers in between the both of your moving mouths, his cock twitching painfully into his chiseled abdomen, barely able to take watching the both of your swap spit in such a fervent manner. Groaning, he grabbed Mingi’s shoulder and squeezed it, encouraging him to pull away and look at him with barely open eyes. 
“What is it, San?” he asked softly, licking at any remnants of cum and saliva that was left on his lips. 
“I need you to stuff her with your cock, Min.” He ran a hand through Mingi’s sweaty hair, smiling. “For me.” 
Mingi smiled back at San, his cock pulsing against your thigh. “Anything for you, bro.” 
-
Mingi had you in his lap on the edge of the bed, your back sticking against his heated bare chest, his large hands squeezing into your open thighs, his cock hitting your sweet spot relentlessly, so much so that your cum sprayed out of your pulsing cunt. It felt so goddamn good you were convinced that the stimulation was going to break your mind. It didn’t help that San was on his knees in between Mingi’s thighs, his fingers cupping his friend’s swollen balls and his mouth open to catch your squirt on his small pink tongue, his face soaked with your release. 
“That’s a good girl, do it again,” San praised, bringing his fingers up to rub them rapidly across your clit, pressing them harder into your bud when your hips tried to move away from his touch, not stopping until more clear liquid shot out of you and coated his already dripping tongue. “Fuck, that’s a good slut.” 
“No more,” you croaked out, your lower half so numb, you’d probably fold like a rag doll if Mingi wasn’t holding you in place. “I-i can’t!” 
“You can take it, sweetheart,” Mingi encouraged breathily, his deep voice penetrating your ears along with his heavy pants, sending a jolt of arousal into your core. He suddenly shuddered, emitting a surprisingly whiny moan upon feeling San’s tongue drag up his perineum to his sensitive balls, encouraging him to buck up into you to chase his high. 
San ran his palms up Mingi’s large thighs, squeezing into them the way Mingi was gripping yours, his thumbs teasing his friend’s puckering hole. Smirking at the sound of Mingi’s soft whimpering, San slipped a finger inside, feeling Mingi slowly begin to grind against it on his own.
Mingi’s jaw hung open, too consumed with lust to notice another finger sliding into him until he felt a sudden, powerful crackle of pleasure erupt from within his core. “Oh, fuck, that’s it, right there, right there,”  Mingi groaned, almost growling his words out, digging his fingers into your bruising skin and slamming himself into you even rapidly than before, sending you into a state of euphoria. 
San stroked himself vigorously, the muscles in his upper and lower arms straining so hard the veins bulged out, a bit of sweat sliding along his smirking face. “Oh, yeah? Does it feel that good, Min? Are you gonna cum in our plaything’s tight little cunt again?” 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah–” Mingi could hardly speak, his body and mind completely overloaded with pleasure, to the point that tears began to form inside his hazy eyes, so close that he couldn’t possibly control the whines and whimpers that were joining your own, the both of your bodies unconsciously moving in tandem so that you could reach your highs together. 
San took delight in the visual of his friend and fucktoy completely falling apart in front of him, his fist squeezing around his cockhead, pre-cum spilling out, the slick allowing him to pleasure himself as fast as possible.“Fuck–Pump…her full…nnngh…of your cum, Min. Please, just make her nice and full for me,” San practically begged, so close to his own high that he didn’t care how desperate he sounded. 
“Cumming, I’m cumminggg,” Mingi moaned whinily, slack jawed, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, letting go of one of your thighs to press his hand down against your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of his cock, swearing he felt your tummy bulge out ever so slightly the longer he drained his seemingly endless cumshot into your cunt. 
You couldn’t even begin to form words, your orgasm doing the talking for you, letting out a few small, stunted moans, your entire body seizing up, spilling your release all over Mingi’s lap. You were so gone, you hardly noticed San suddenly standing up in front of the both of you, whispering something dirty and slapping his cock down onto your used pussy, his load spurting out and coating your mound, mixing with Mingi’s load, as it was already seeping out of you and down your ass. 
“Pull out now, Min,” San commanded softly, watching Mingi slowly slide his cock out with a small squelch, lowering himself back down to the floor to get a close up view of the absolute mess that was pouring out of your used hole, his thumbs spreading you apart. You were stretched wide and filled up with so much cum, San was ready to shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. A moment of silence, mixed with quiet pants and sighs went by, before San came up with a brilliant plan. “Should we stuff her hole together?” 
Wiping some sweat away from his forehead, Mingi tilted his head to the side, perking up, as though he were intrigued. “Like cock to cock?” 
San licked at his lips, tasting you on them. “Yup.” 
Mingi mirrored him, licking at his plush lips as well, eventually sighing to himself. “Double stuffed…”
San nodded, chuckling. “That’s right.” 
Once he exchanged a sleazy look with his friend, Mingi slowly looked down at you, his gaze darkening.
“Yummy.” 
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
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How JJK men react when you fall asleep on them
Pairing: Nanami x reader; Gojo x reader; Inumaki x reader (first time yay, thank you @emzalot and @trysudio for the great idea <3)
Word Count: 3,4k
Warnings: not proofread because I really have to go to work right now lol, a little language here and there, otherwise fluff overload, will write a part ll of this so if you wanna get tagged leave a comment and let me know. Also, I'd appreciate it sooooo much if you'd interact with this fic and showed some support <3
Kento Nanami
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It’s been a hell of a week. Work swallows you whole, curses appear like plagues out of nowhere. This summer seems to be worse than any year before, worse than anything you’ve ever witnessed despite the stinging fact that you are a grade 1 sorcerer.
“When was the last time you’ve slept, (y/n)?” Satoru questions playfully when you walk past him.
You have no energy for his bullshit right now, feet shuffling on the floor without a real aim. Oh, but you do have an aim-
Him.
“Can’t remember anymore. Let me go home now”, you mumble, heart beating a little faster just by the thought of it.
Going home means meeting him. After weeks of being apart, after weeks of not really seeing each other, you’ll finally come back home to him. Kento Nanami, the best boyfriend walking on this earth. Kento Nanami, who was the one who forced Gojo to talk to the elders in order to give you a few days off. Kento Nanami, who is the only thing on your mind except for sleep right now.
“Come on, let me drive you home, (y/n). No need for you to walk that whole way”, Gojo suggests.
You can’t argue. In fact, you don’t even want to. Even the thought of sitting for a few minutes seems like a relieve at the moment.
“Your man was really mad when he found out you were assigned for another bunch of missions this week, threatened to slap me if I don’t talk to the elders”, the man next to you comments amused while starting the car.
Kento is a calm and collected man, never too much of anything. But when it comes to you and your safety, he seems to put on another face.
Definitely a hot one.
“I hope he slapped you anyway”, you reply with a weak grin, earning a heartfelt laugh from Gojo.
“Not yet, but let me escort you to the door just in case.”
He stops the car, your numb body refusing to get up. You just started to get comfortable, maybe you’re able to rest your eyes on the passenger seat for a second…
“Come on, you just need to walk inside. Kento already waits for you.”
“Did you drive her here?”
Oh, that sweet voice. That sweet voice you get drunk on over and over again, that voice that lures you into relieving darkness. Now you’re save. Now you’re finally able to rest.
“Hey sweetheart, are you alright?”
His comforting touch caresses your cheek gently, you can tell he’s gazing down at you worried.  But as much as you want to lift you arms and finally embrace your boyfriend in a tight hug, as much as you are forcing your eyes to open and take in his striking sight, you simply can’t move.
“Let me carry you inside. You definitely need to rest now”, he mumbles.
Softly, he lifts you out of the passenger seat. You feel like melting away in an instant, the mixture of his masculine scent along with the warmth of his body being your personal heaven on earth. God, how much you love that man, how much adore that he stood up for you, that he lets you rest in his comforting arms right now.
“Thank you for helping me out”, Nanami addresses towards Gojo.
“No need for that. We’re buddies after all, right? And I don’t wanna get slapped by you. Good night, (y/n), sleep tight!”
As much as you’d love to bite back, your tongue is so numb you can’t even bring out anything apart from a minor groan.
Kento’s tall frame begins to walk, his tight muscles reflecting every little movement against your head. What a sensation it is, knowing that you’ll lay curled up next to him in bed within the next minutes.
“Missed you”, you mumble.
His touch brushes over your back comfortingly while he steps back into the warmth of your inviting home.
“I’m so glad you’re home again, sweetheart. But before you’re all mine, you have to catch up with your sleep. When was the last time you were able to rest?”
You can’t put a finger on it. Apart from a few short naps now and then, there was absolutely no chance to sleep for 3 hours straight within the last week. But telling Kento that definitely doesn’t seem like a good idea, not that you are able to build a straight sentence anyway.
“Don’t know”, you hush.
Gently, he lays you down onto your soft mattress. You curl up in an instant, taking in his scent inside the soft linen of your blanket. Oh, this feels like nothing but heaven. Especially because he positions himself next to you, pressing your back against his broad chest.
“Get your well-deserved rest. I won’t let something like that happen again”, he breathes against your ear.
“I love you, Kento. Thanks for standing up for me…”
His skilled fingers tuck a strand of hair that hangs in your face behind your ear before stroking your head just the way you like it.
“I will always look after you, (y/n). Now rest a little and tell me about the last weeks when you’re ready. I’ve already shopped for this evening, I want to cook your favourite meal for you.  And-“
He stops himself from talking, your low and steady breath making it more than clear that you are already sound asleep. With a small smile, Kento tucks you into the blanket and presses a kiss against your forehead. Oh, how much you deserve to finally rest, how lovely you look with your relaxed facial features and your head completely swallowed by your pillow
“Sleep tight, I love you more than anything else, (y/n).”
Satoru Gojo
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“No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
You can’t hold in a yawn, teary eyes staring at the man in front of you. That definitely was a rough mission. So rough that Satoru Gojo had to step in to save your puny ass. And if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you can barely keep your eyes open. That fucking demon you weren’t able to exorcise all night, fucking Satoru Gojo who took forever to come to your rescue.
“I’m fine”, you grumble, avoiding his gaze at any cost.
Why on earth does it have to be him? Why Satoru Gojo instead of someone decent like Geto? Now, you’ll have to live with his stupid comments for at least some months.
“Baby, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Don’t call me baby”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Get yourself together, keep your eyes open. Why on earth are you so damn tired right now? Maybe because you were fighting the whole night, maybe because you haven’t slept enough for ages.
“Feel free to rest a little, this car ride will take us some time”, Ijichi interrupts softly, gazing at you through the mirror.
“I’m fine”, you groan.
God, why is everything so damn annoying at the moment? Your eyes wander to the man next to you who just grins from ear to ear. It’s because of him, that fucker over there.
“Don’t worry, I will take care if something happens”, he assures you.
Urgh, you are too tired to deal with his shit-talking right now. You turn pointedly towards the window, staring into the rainy late morning. What time is it? You have no idea. All that you know is that you’ve been awake for more than 48 hours by now, your body being completely worn out and covered in bruises. Maybe Shoko will give you a decent pain killer that shoots you into another dimension. Yeah, that actually sounds nice.
Satoru’s eyes lay on you, how your body gets sluggish in the car seat with every passing minute. Until your head rests against the window, until your heavy eyes get the best of you and your mouth opens. Yes, you were completely worn out by the time he arrived. And it is more than well-deserved that you rest now. But why do you have to look this lovely while doing so?
“Is she asleep?”, Ijichi questions softly.
“Oh she definitely is. No wonder after that hell of a mission. Please turn the music down a little so she doesn’t wake up.”
Even though you’re always act cold towards him, Satoru can’t help but admire you from afar. You are so feisty, so strong, so lovely it takes his breath away. It seems like the only time he’s even able to look your way properly is when you are asleep.
And he enjoys every second of it.
Ijichi makes a sharp turn to the left, eyes widen in horror when another car is only inches away from crashing into him. Before Satoru is able to react, your body crashes against his, your head now resting against his shoulder. He holds his breath, heart almost beating out of his chest. He never came this close to you, not without you complaining. From here, you look even lovelier, your steady breath brushing against his neck in a way that makes him see start.
But you don’t seem to mind. No, instead your arm wraps itself around his as you rub your head against his shoulder in order to find a comfortable position.
“Is she still sleeping? I hope this didn’t wake her up…”
“Nah, she’s asleep”, Satoru mumbles.
The urge to touch you becomes almost unbearable. How is he supposed to sit still when you are cuddled against him like this? How is he supposed to not stretch out his hand when your hair looks so inviting, when he wondered about what your skin feels like since knowing you?
A little touch can’t hurt, right? A simple, innocent touch…
Slowly, his trembling fingertip brushes over your cheek. It feels like electricity is running through his veins where his skin meets yours. You really are strikingly beautiful, even when your face is squished against his shoulder, even when your mouth hangs slightly open. And oh, the perfume you wear smells absolutely intoxicating. How is it possible he never realized how good you smell?
“Hello?”
He stares at you with his eyes wide open, movement stuck in its tracks while you blink away the sleep and gaze up at him in drunken confusion.
“Are we there yet?”
“No, we’re still on our way back”, he explains briefly.
You look around, the realization of where you are slowly but surely hitting you like a wall. Oh god, is this Satoru Gojo you’re resting your head on? And is it his hand that cups your cheeks.
“I-Im so sorry!”, you stutter, instantly lifting yourself up and stroking your hair.
Fuck, why is this so embarrassing? Even Gojo’s cheeks get light pink while he avoids your gaze, fumbling with his hands frantically.
“Nah I’m sorry. Should have pushed you back…”
You swallow hard, death silence hanging in the air. Even though you only slept for maybe 10 minutes, you feel like you haven’t had such a good nap in a long time. Was is because of him? Is it because you feel…safe?
“Your shoulder was quite comfortable”, you mutter before you can stop yourself.
“Yeah, you think so?”
“Somehow, yeah…”
Is Satoru Gojo maybe not as bad as you thought? He could have yanked your body back into the seat immediately if he wanted to. Hell, you wouldn’t have been able to even touch him if he didn’t allow it. So maybe, just maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought he does.
Just like you.
“Well, you can come over here anytime y’know.”
Your eyes dart towards him in an instant, looking for a single spark of dark humour on his face. But no. All he does is awkwardly smiling and patting his shoulder like he’s inviting you over.
Is this…Alright? Should you really do it?
“Your arm seems comfier than the window, so why not…”
Hesitantly, you loosen your seatbelt and slide into the middle seat right next to him. The warmth radiating from his body seems to swallow you whole in an instant, a yarn escaping you just by the thought of continuing your nap.
“Don’t you dare to tell anybody about this”, you mumble against his shoulder, eyelids already so heavy that you fail to keep them open.
“I will use this against you whenever I have the chance to.”
“Sato…”
Toge Inumaki
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It’s hard to keep your eyes open when the old fart in front of you talks about his boring and made up adventures for over 2 hours by now. Not even the stinging fact that your crush is sitting next to you can keep you from holding your head in your hands, eyes slowly but surely closing.
Unexpectedly you feel a hand tapping against your forearm, ripping you out of your daydreams. Toge’s smile catches you off guard, sweeps you off the ground and almost off your chair. How embarrassing, did you really almost fall asleep while sitting next to him? Today was the first time you’ve had enough courage to ask him if he wants to sit next to you. How are you even able to be tired when he’s so close you can literally feel the heat radiating from his body?
With a firm smile, he slides a little note your way.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep”
You swallow, cheeks heating up in an instant. So he noticed? Oh no, earth should swallow you whole and get you out of this mess as soon as possible. Even though you can tell by his gorgeous eyes that he’s grinning, you can’t help but feel deeply ashamed.  
“Thank you”, you mutter through gritted teeth, eyes darting towards the old fart in front.
Why didn’t you go to sleep early tonight, why did you read through all of those chapters when you knew that you’ll have a lecture early in the morning? That slow burn just really got you. Oh, but the main character reminds you so much of him. Him, the boy who doesn’t speak in anything but sushi ingredients in order to save all of you from getting cursed. Him, whose smile could enchant entire nations. Him, who stole your heart since you’ve joined Jujutsu High along his side back then.
But why do you have to make it so complicated, why do you have to act so damn strange around him? Toge must think you’re a total freak, always admiring him from afar while never really talking much with him. Even though he agreed on sitting next to you today, he might have done it because he feels sorry for you.
Your head sinks deeper and deeper, eyes closing themselves before you are able to stop them. When you get home, you’ll definitely finish that enemies to lovers story you’ve read all night. Maybe you’ll be able to be proud of youself for asking him out when you’re back in your room. And just maybe, you’ll be able to ask him out on a date sometime. Maybe stargazing? Or watching a movie together. Just the thought of cuddling with him…
Toge’s eyes dart towards you. Considering your slow breaths and how your head rests in your arms, you definitely fell asleep. Gently, he shakes your shoulder and back, taps your arm and slides a note your way.
“Tuna tuna”, he mumbles inaudibly.
But nothing works. No, your body doesn’t move an inch except for your head that searches a comfortable position. Slowly but surely, your head threatens to wander off the desk, sending you straight towards the floor.
His eyes dart around frantically. What is he supposed to do now? He can’t let the old man notice you fell asleep and risk that you’ll hurt your head. But on the other hand…
Touching you is something he imagined quite often. Since he first laid his eyes on you, it was over. Searching for you in every crowd, sitting next to you as often as possible, protecting you at any cost. Yes, Toge Inumaki fell head over heels for you.
But somehow it seems like you aren’t that interested in him, avoiding his gaze as good as possible, always mumbling short answers only. It surprised him when you came up to him today and asked him to sit next to you, his heart still beating out of his chest just by your presence. Would you be mad, disgusted even if he grabbed you, even if only to save you from falling to the ground?
He clenches his hands into fists, watching in horror as you begin to slide down your chair. What is he supposed to do?
In the matter of seconds, his hands grab your uniform just before you’re about to fall to the floor, catching you just in time and pulling your head onto his lap.
Onto his lap.
You are laying in his lap.
Oh god, this feels so right. No, he has to focus, what will you think of him when you wake up like that? And what will the others do when they catch both of you in this strange-looking position? His face goes pale in an instant, hands desperately holding onto your back so you don’t slide down. This is bad, very very bad. But on the other hand…
No, he can’t enjoy the fact that you’re laying in his lap right now, he can’t allow to let himself fall like that. You are asleep, it would be disgusting to use you like that. Especially when you clearly don’t like him the way he likes you.
He has no other chance but to wake you up.
“Sake”, he mutters along with gently tapping your shoulder.
“Sake.”
You don’t react. Instead, you cuddle yourself into his lap, arm now resting across his legs. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in and out.
“Sake!”, he hisses into your ear as loud as possible with somebody else noticing.
You jerk up, eyes darting around in confusion. What just happened? You must’ve fallen asleep. Urgh, that old fart is still talking…
“Tuna tuna?”
You blink at the boy next to you with doe eyes. He looks absolutely messed up, glossy orbs staring at you in pure horror. Oh no, did you do something embarrassing? Did you snore next to him? Or worse, did you drool?
Frantically, you wipe over your face. This is a nightmare and you’re still absolutely drained.
“I-I’m sorry”, you stutter.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just a idiot and went to bed way too late last night”, you blubber out.
Gently, Toge grabs the arm that is about to wipe over your face again mid-air and slides another note your way.
“You look cute when you sleep. Would you like to have a movie night when you’re fit again?”
You stare at the neatly written note with widen eyes. This can’t be real, right? Your crush didn’t just ask you out after you passed out on the desk during lecture. It’s like your tongue is stuck in your throat, mouth not able to move. This is way too good to be true, something you’ve dreamt about each and every night. Toge, having a movie night with you?
He stares at you nervously, how you blink over and over again in sheer disbelief. Oh no, was this a mistake, do you think he is a freak for asking you out on a movie night just after you fell asleep? What if you know that you laid in his lap, that he touched you without permission? This was a stupid idea, you made it clear multiple times that you aren’t interested in him like that-
“I…I’d love to”, you suddenly mutter so silently that Toge almost misses it.
“Salmon?”
“Yeah…I mean, if you’re still up for a meeting…”
“You two, will you shut up already? I’ll remove you from this class if you keep on talking!” the old man suddenly screams so loud that you flinch, sitting straight in your chair in an instant while your eyes dart towards him.
Toge shoves another note your way.
“I’m really excited about meeting you.”
Tags:
 @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez
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hotyanderedaddies · 1 month
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 0:
When Blake Fell in Love with You
Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3
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[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
You heard the other students chant over and over that there was a fight, and judging by the "Ooohs!" and "Oh shit!", you could tell that someone was getting their butt kicked.
You didn't want to be associated with any of that stuff, so you did your best to steer clear of any drama.
You were only in fifth grade, but you were pretty wise in a certain retrospect in that you did not want to be involved in any sort if unnecessary drama that would add stress to your life. In fact, this was so prominent in your attitude that you were deemed to be a bit anti-social (shy was more apt).
However, since the crowd of chanting students was in the same direction that you had to take in order to get home, you were forced to walk towards the commotion despite your apprehension.
The closer you got, the more you could see the fight that was going on.
One guy had another pinned to the ground, and the one on top was wailing on the other one with both fists. The sounds of flesh against flesh banged out, and you cringed at the onslaught you witnessed.
"Teacher!" a random kid shouted out, pointing towards the school where one of the fourth grade teachers poked her head out to scream at the crowd to disperse.
Everyone scattered, leaving the one kid who'd been wailed on in the dust.
He stayed on the ground, coughing a little bit as he tried to catch his breath.
You didn't move from your spot, ignoring everyone else as they ran off, leaving just you and the apparent loser of the fight.
A part of you said that it wasn't your responsibility, that you should've just walked home and tried your best to pretend that you didn't see anything at all.
But your conscience told you otherwise.
Swallowing your nerves, you called out, "H-hey!"
The guy remained still on the ground.
You didn't have a phone yet (thanks Mom and Dad), so you couldn't call 911. Therefore, you rushed forward and up to the other guy, your eyes widening at what you saw.
You didn't recognize him. He must've been in a different grade, maybe older because he seemed really big and tall (even from his lying position). His cheek was bruised up and his right eye was swollen shut. He had a cut on his arm that was bleeding a little bit-- not too bad, but enough to where it might ruin his leather jacket.
"Are you okay?" you asked, immediately feeling stupid because he obviously wasn't.
"...yeah," the guy grunted, turning his head away from you, blushing a little bit.
You bit down on your lower lip, not knowing what you could say to help out the random dude who'd gotten his butt kicked. Therefore, you did the only thing that you could think of.
"Um," you mumbled, "um, I have a band-aid...?" You cringed a little, but still dug through your backpack for a band-aid to give him. Your mom made you carry a box with you to school since you were pretty clumsy and always seemed to manage to fall down and skin your knee, hence your box of Hello Kitty Band-Aids.
You pulled out a band-aid with Pompompurin and peeled off the back, carefully sticking it to the guy's cut arm. Out of instinct, you bent down and pressed your lips to it, giving it a little kiss like what your mom does to all of your ouchies.
You froze, having no idea why you'd done that.
"Uhh..." you mumbled. "I hope you feel better!"
Thinking quickly, you shot up to your feet and sprinted away as quickly as you could, scurrying in the direction of your house.
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
As Blake watched you run off, he looked down at the band-aid on his arm that had some random cartoon character on it.
He snorted and was about to pull it off, but then froze.
His skin still tingled from where you'd kissed him and simply thinking about it made his heart flutter in his chest and his breath get all ragged.
He recognized you from school, recalling how you'd typically keep to yourself and how you were a Grade A nerd.
...and how cute you are.
That'd been it initially-- Blake had thought that you were sorta cute, not paying too much attention otherwise.
But as he watched you run off, he couldn't help but stare in wonder.
Why had you helped him?
Why did you care?
And, ultimately, why weren't you his yet?
"They'll be mine," Blake promised himself. "Sooner or later, I'll make them mine."
He smiled as looked down at the Band-Aid you'd given him and placed his hand over where you'd kissed him, smiling to himself.
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
From then on, Blake made it his mission to make sure that you were protected at all costs.
He heard someone talking shit about you or thinking about messing with you?
He kicked their ass.
He heard someone say something negative about you?
He kicked their ass.
Someone cut you in line during lunch?
He kicked their ass.
Someone was wanting to ask you out on a date?
He kicked their ass.
Just that simple act of kindness that you showed the school bully had him wrapped around your finger. You didn't know it, but he was one-hundred percent devoted to you.
He walked you to and from school everyday, making sure to keep a little bit of distance in between the two of you. He knew that you were shy and that you didn't want to be involved in any sort of drama.
Plus, Blake wasn't delusional. He knew that he had an extremely negative reputation surrounding him, and he didn't want to drag you down with him. Everyone looked at him with fear in their eyes, and if you were associated with him, then he'd inadvertently ruin whatever reputation you'd built up.
In his mind, you're an angel, and he didn't want to taint you.
Hence, he kept his distance and made sure to admire you from afar.
But still, if anyone were to ask, Blake would say that you're his. He loves you after all, more than anything in the world.
And he promised himself that eventually he'd confess to you... all he needed was something to push him to do so...
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planete777 · 8 months
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FREAK・⁠。♪ LN4
( lando norris x fem!reader )
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IN WHICH. y/n is full of surprises and shows lando just how dirty she can be. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, reader x brother'sbsf!lando, riding, mentions of sex toys, high hotness part 3464476, lando is lowkey in love with the reader, getting caught... but not really getting caught.
NOTE. my dearest anon requested and i HAD to write this. my last high!lando installment probably for a while because the summer is coming to an end 😭 i do have one more other fic coming tho, so stay tuned. anyways enjoy luvss <3 also credit to @lesbiacebian for the dividers.
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"are you really slagging me off for your girlfriend?"
lando's voice is incredulous, syllables barely pristine as the weed in his head breaks down any cohesion left. the hand pinching the spliff falls to the bed as he sits up, staring at his unmoving best friend.
"she just texted me, i'm not gonna ditch her for you, lando, no offence."
"all taken," he grumbles, then moves to take a harsh inhale of his joint. he may be completely high out of his fucking wits, but he's certainly not pliable like that. he came to get so faded with his friend (and, second to name, supplier) that his brain would feel like it's being suspended over a grill and burned with smoke.
"well," lando sees him shrug half heartedly, "she's putting something on the line for her late night endeavours."
lando scoffs, taking another godforsaken drag. pussy, he thinks, he's getting fucking pussy.
"you're a nasty piece of shit, you know that?"
the boy ahead of him waves him off, "better start going mate, she'll be here any minute."
lando stares blankly at him for so long his eyes begin to unfocus, before he's shaking his head, sliding off the sheets. what a dickhead.
"fine whatever." he opens the door, taking an inhale and exhale of the joint wedged in his lips, and he descends the carpeted stairs with little sentience. his limbs feel dismembered and he can barely perceive the distance from on step to another, but he reaches the ground floor anyways, making his way to the living room.
he guessed he'd find her here, practically one with the couch and eyes welded to the tv screen glimmering with another uninteresting reality show.
the light's off, and considering he could barely walk in a straight line due to the blunt puffing out smoke from his mouth, he doesn't notice y/n turning towards him, pressing pause on the tv.
"lando, hey."
her voice is light, as if she's afraid of disturbing the night, and she swings her legs off the couch. lando subtly scrutinizes what she wears, a tight tank top, and equally as tight shorts, and he begins to feel blood rush to his dick.
"hey," he smirks with the blunt still in his mouth, and shuffles towards the now empty space beside the girl who had him thinking with his dick. he forces the thoughts away, he's not acquainted with the whole corruption kink thing, and y/n screams bloody virgin.
"what brings you here, high out of your mind?" she's staring intensely, as if a blink would make him vanish, grinning light-heartedly.
lando chuckles, taking a long drag, "your brother wanted to get laid, and i'm sure not a voyeurist."
even the thought of it makes y/n grimace, "point made," she curls her legs back unto the couch as lando's eyes follow her.
it's not long before the sound of the doorbell ringing shrills once, dragged until the duration of it could barely hit it being a nuisance. y/n's brother tumbles down the stairs, opening the door with much vigour before dragging her up the stairs with hurrief footsteps. the whole ordeal plays out with silence between y/n and lando, hearing the ruckus with barely concealed amusement, and is cut dead once the bedroom door slams.
"i do not want to hear all that," y/n groans, "his room is right above this one."
"happens when you're pussy whipped like him," lando huffs out a cloud of smoke, "forget who the fuck is around."
"you know you can... go back home," y/n's sceptical, and rightfully so because lando has no idea why he's staying. nevertheless, he makes up an incomplete incentive that sounded valid only in his head.
"i know, but i'm high as fuck and walking in this heat home... yeah no."
his neck flexes as he sucks in as much weed as he can, and y/n watched avidly. something about seeing lando at the mercy of his inhibitions, eyes so red that wherever he looks, he paints it crimson, and lips selling his soul away to the strings of smoke. he's too out if it to notice y/n's assessment, with his head sunken into the couch behind him, and it makes the girl laugh.
"you're gone, aren't you?"
lando does nothing but smirk affirmatively, before limply taking another drag.
"and i could definitely do with a bed to sleep on," he pushes a sound out of his throat, "your brother... fucker, he is."
"for sure," y/n agrees then shuffles to get up, patting lando's thigh. he flitters his eyes open in surprise, diluted, however, because of his lack of level headedness, "what?"
"just this once, i'll give you my bed."
"really?" the word is chipped between his teeth from the burn scarred into the back of his throat.
"yeah," she smiles. lando pretends he doesn't feel his heart grin with her.
"i'm feeling nice today."
he stands up, stretches and feels his joints scream out inexplicable noises. the bed seems like paradise now.
"oh mint, thank you."
receiving a hum in return, he follows the girl up the stairs, praying that his legs don't give way. his mind dozes off as they get to the landing, and it's only when he trails behind her inside, on autopilot, and she shuts the door, does his conscience focus like accomodating vision.
"i need to go the bathroom, one sec."
his mind has one whiplash after another as he process her rapid disappearance, before tuning back into the room. it's tame, like any young adult room would be, with half-wave plant bunting snaking around her room. her headboard, however, glows white, abd he figures it's from the leds stuck under the rim.
he walks up to the bedside tableand picks up a small framed picture of her and her brother. young, they were, standing side by side with identical sunglasses on. he smiles, then situates it back.
the drawer beneath is open, just enough for him to slip his hand through and open it, but of everything he could presume to find, he does not expect to meet a clear purple dildo, thicker and longer than biologically possible. he feels like there's a broken wire in his brain, hanging and tickling just where it triggers his dick to harden.
he doesn't know why he's enthralled by it, staring at the phallic toy as if it would magically display the images of it being pushed and pressed into y/n, but then he finds himself wishing so. corruption was never his thing, but now it doesn't have to be. because y/n is already debauched from the hot inside, to the deceiving out.
he stands there, idle, and it pushes a huff of laughter from behind him.
"you can get in the bed, lando," she pronounces like he's a formative infant. but he's not moving.
"what is this, y/n?"
he can't see her face fall, confused, but he hears it in the way she speaks, "what?"
then he's storming to her, standing just before her with a burning look. y/n's not stupid, can tell the way he's turned on but whatever he's seen, if not by the way his eyes flick down to her lips, then by the bulge that pokes her peripheral vision, and it's that her eyes widen in shock.
"oh fuck."
"oh fuck indeed," he takes a final drag before quelling it on the desk behind her, "who knew you were shoving 8 inch dildos up your pussy?"
y/n knows where to push his buttons, get the heat rising like a flood of lava just before it turns into a battle of who will give in first?
her arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in, "and who knew," a hand, calculative and slow, slides down to press the hard on in his jeans, "you would get turned on by it?"
then he's kissing her, hard, wet, messy, with tongues and soft lips eager for each other like they were quenching years of thirst. lando takes everything that y/n gives him, lapping at her tongue and biting at her lips with unrestricted composure.
she's pushing him back, hands scrambling on his top to get it off, and when she does, gives him a final nudge to the chest that has him flying to the bed.
he smirks up at her, watching as she dwindles to nakedness and lando thinks that he can't be seeing this. y/n, in front of him, stripping as if it's a private show, with her brother just a few doors down. it's fucking filthy, and makes him hot all over.
"you gonna suck me off?"
he'd found a way, though he feels semi paralyzed, to rid himself of his jeans, slowly jerking his dick as precum begins to trickle down his skin.
"want to, but i need your dick inside me," y/n says, all breathy and pent up, causing lando to groan as she crawls her way up his thighs.
"fuck, you're gonna kill me." his heart is accelerating in his chest, the libido in him heightens as y/n chuckles at him and takes his dick out of his own hand and he feels completely brainless.
"you ready?"
all he can muster is a nod, and then hot fucking tightness. their moans are akin in volume, elastic and lewd, and as y/n slips further down, lando's dick feels completely rock hard and throbs as he swears every gallon of his blood pools at his cock.
"fucking hell, you're tight, y/n," his mouth feels wet and dry simultaneously and he squeezes his eyes shut as she begins to roll her hips and press down hard.
she bounces and grinds like she's meant for it, and lando can't process that sweet, innocent y/n is bouncing on his dick, squeezing him like she wants to keep him there.
his hands grip her ass, thrusting upwards to meet her hips and the cacophony of slapping skin snaps any vocal composure in him. lando moans like he's being eaten by pleasure itself and y/n grinds and grinds and grinds.
"fuck, lando," her head is thrown back like it's completely broken, and lando preens.
"you're so fucking good for me, y/n, keep going," he can't hold back, feels his hands grip her hips and her ass careening into his thighs with every bounce and, fuck, it's so dirty and so good.
y/n looks slutted out, debauched as she splits herself on his cock. it sends lando tipping over the edge, about to cum fast and deep, when a harsh knocking pounds into the door.
they both freeze, panting as sweat licks heat into their flesh.
"for fuck's sake, keep it down! some people are trying to sleep!"
it's shortly followed by angry footsteps and a slam of a door.
lando, still hard and pulsating in y/n's cunt, has a face of bewilderment, "shit— i forgot he was there."
y/n turns back, smirking, and slowly rolling her hips again, "and continue to do so. now fuck me, lando."
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incognit0slut · 12 days
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hi! what about this: some time after spencer comes home from prison, he finds some toys reader had bought for herself since he'd been in prison for so long. he tells reader that if she was needy enough to do anything without him, she can do it again, without him. he orders her to show him what she was doing when he was gone. you can definitely include edging and/or overstimulation as well as degradation, of course if you're comfortable with that <3 also, if it's not a problem, since it would be a sub/dom dynamic there could be aftercare included, but it depends on what you feel like writing.
anyway, thank you and i hope you're having a great day 🌺
(18+) Dom Spence x fem reader. 1.3k. Sex toy. Squirting.
Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.
-
Spencer wasn't trying to be evil, he really wasn't, but there was a twisted satisfaction witnessing your vulnerability. Maybe it was the sense of power over you, or perhaps you were simply captivating, but whatever the reason, he found himself drawn to the sight of you lying in bed, legs spread apart.
He watched intently as the toy disappeared into your cunt, moving in and out, each thrust met with the tight clenching of your walls. He never imagined he'd witness you finding satisfaction with anything other than him, yet, if he were honest with himself, the sight aroused him more than it angered him.
You had been going at it for a while now—no, he forced you to do it. Though "force" might not be the right choice of word, because as embarrassed as you were by his discovery of the toy you forgot even existed, the pleasure clouded your mind, and you found yourself enjoying giving him a show far too much to stop.
“Is this what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone?” Spencer taunted, leaning back in the chair positioned at the foot of the bed.
Your response caught in your throat as your climax edged closer. With a sense of urgency, you increased the speed of your hand, plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt with increasing desperation, the echoes of your arousal filling the room.
“Answer me,” he urged. “Keep your eyes on me and answer the question.”
With a shiver running down your spine, you forced yourself to meet his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.
“I… I needed…” you stammered, struggling to form coherent words amidst the rising tide of sensation.
“Needed what?” he pressed.
You swallowed hard. “I needed… to feel something,” you admitted. “I needed… release.”
“And you couldn’t wait for me?”
“I… I’m… sorry,” you confessed, each word punctuated by a gasp as the toy drove you closer to the edge. “I couldn’t… without… you…”
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the toy. Then, his voice cut through the air. “Do you need me now?”
You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing eyes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice raw with longing. “I-I need you.”
His lips curved into a knowing smile, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners. “Hmm,” he hummed, his voice low and teasing. “That’s too bad because I’m quite enjoying the view.”
You squirmed under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet undeniably aroused by his control.
“Please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I-I need you.”
A flicker of something akin to sympathy crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I know you do,” he replied. “But where’s the fun in giving you what you want so easily?”
You bit your lip, torn between frustration and arousal. “Please,” you pleaded again, your voice barely a whisper, “Don’t tease me like this.”
His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you. “You’ll have to beg a little harder than that,” he whispered. “Show me how much you need me.”
Your heart raced at his words, the intensity of his gaze igniting a fiery need within you. Without hesitation, you spread your legs further apart, the movement allowing him an unobstructed view of the way your cunt clenched around the toy, your arousal evident in the slickness coating it.
A satisfied groan escaped his lips at the sight, his hand instinctively finding its way to his strained arousal beneath his pants. “I’ll tell you what,” he muttered, gripping himself. “Make yourself come and I’ll give you what you want.”
A whine broke put of you. “I…”
“If you were needy enough to satisfy yourself without me, you can do it again now.”
Your heart was beating fast against your chest, yet you found yourself nodding.
“Three times,” he continued. “Give me three orgasms.”
Your breath hitched at his words. “Three?” You squeaked.
“Three,” he affirmed, his voice low and commanding.
You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with apprehension. The thought of achieving such intense pleasure under his watchful gaze both thrilled and intimidated you. But the promise of his reward spurred you on, driving you to arch your back and chase after your first orgasm.
It came fast and fierce, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your toes curled in ecstasy, and a blush spread across your cheeks as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, knowing that he was watching your every move.
“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Give me another.”
Your eyes fluttered open again, and you whimpered, determined not to give yourself a break. The faster you obliged, the quicker he would fuck you. So you pushed yourself even further, ignoring the burning sensation as the toy thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.
And then, as it hit that very deep spot inside you, your legs began to shake, spreading even wider in response to the overwhelming sensation. The pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, from your head down to your toes, and his name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper.
He grunted as he rubbed himself through his pants. “One more, sweetheart, you can take it, just one more.”
You gasped, still reeling from the intensity of the previous climax. “I… I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “I know you can.”
Despite the lingering waves of pleasure still washing over you, you steeled yourself for one final effort. Gritting your teeth, you resumed the frantic pace, driving the toy deep inside you.
The sensations intensified, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath grew ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared the edge once again.
As the pleasure built within you, there was a sudden, unfamiliar intensity to the sensation. It coiled in your stomach, sending a surge of urgency coursing through your veins. You whimpered softly, a mix of desire and apprehension knotting in your stomach.
You knew what was coming, and so did he, because his grip on his cock tightened, a hunger burning in his eyes. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Give it to me, baby. Just let it out.”
Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, you finally surrendered, feeling a rush of fluid escaping your body as you reached your high. The force of the liquid pushed the toy out of you, and you gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the overwhelming sensation. Your back arched, your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, letting the intense pleasure consume you entirely.
Every nerve ending seemed to tingle with ecstasy as the wave of release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. With a shuddering breath, you collapsed onto the bed, spent and satisfied, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your climax.
In the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, you felt his presence beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You steadied your breathing as he pulled you closer, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your sweaty face.
“See?” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “I knew you could do it.”
With a contented sigh, you nuzzled closer to him, reveling in his warmth. “Will you fuck me now?”
He laughed, the sound rich and full of affection. “Maybe we should wait for a while, let you calm down.”
You pulled back and gave him a look. “Spencer.”
With a playful smirk, he leaned in to pepper soft kisses along your jawline, trailing down to your neck. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent shivers of anticipation through your body.
And then he slipped off his clothes, and when he finally settled between your legs, pushing his throbbing cock into your dripping walls, you cling onto him desperately. Because nothing could compare to the pleasure he brought you, leaving you feeling whole and complete in a way that no toy ever could.
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generalsmemories · 5 months
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Ginkgo leaves
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous
✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.
✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.
p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).
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"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.
"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.
"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."
"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.
"He doesn't have one."
"Then why did you even-"
"But he likes ginkgo leaves."
The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...
"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."
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Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.
It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.
Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.
But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.
No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.
You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.
General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.
General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.
So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.
But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."
That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.
The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.
Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.
Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.
But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.
But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.
"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.
You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.
There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.
Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.
And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.
And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.
But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.
"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.
And he can't hold it in anymore.
It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.
"Please don't make me do this again."
He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.
"... You won't." you whisper quietly.
It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.
But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.
"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."
Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.
You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.
"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.
Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.
And naturally, the one who lost is you.
"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."
You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.
But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.
He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.
"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.
"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."
Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.
The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.
If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.
Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.
"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."
A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.
Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.
"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.
When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.
Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.
"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.
Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"
Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.
A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.
"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."
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5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.
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dtrghost · 11 months
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closeness and proximity
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Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!
pairing: ghost x f!reader
synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.
warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.
I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.
if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.
(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word count: 3.4k
"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.
The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.
"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.
Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.
He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.
"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.
Had she done this all by herself?
He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.
"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.
"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.
Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.
He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.
"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.
"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.
"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.
Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.
"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.
The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.
"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.
"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.
"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.
War.
Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.
"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...
Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.
"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.
"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.
"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."
"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.
"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."
"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.
He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.
She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.
"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.
"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.
"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.
"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.
"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.
"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.
"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.
"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.
"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.
"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.
"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.
"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."
She was a child.
That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.
"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.
"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?
"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.
Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.
When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.
"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.
"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.
Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.
"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.
"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.
"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.
"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.
"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.
"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.
"Envy, huh."
"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.
"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.
"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.
She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.
"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.
"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.
Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.
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And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.
See you guys next time!!
1K notes · View notes
hungiehipo · 1 month
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Macdennis timeline
Macdennis
The 16 season long situationship filled to the brim with sociopathic tendencies, mutual abuse, and disorganized attachment between a man burdened by Catholic guilt who doesn't want love unless it hurts and a deeply dissociated man who can't be authentic unless he's immersed in a facade. And they were roommates.
What can be said that hasn't been said before? Probably nothing... still here's this.
S1-S4 PRE-MACDENNIS
This is before Mac and Dennis find themselves unwittingly thrust into a relationship neither is aware of. There is a homoerotic undertone, albeit usually as more of a joke than anything else. Neither has realized that their feelings for the other goes beyond friendship.
(Season 1 ep 1) Famous tequila scene.
(season 3 ep 4) Mac says I love you to Dennis.
(season 3 ep 15) gang dances their asses off macs dance pantomiming blowing Dennis.
(season 4 ep 1) Man hunters. Dennis puts his balls in Mac's mouth when he's sleeping, and mac shaves his pubes and glues them to Dennis' face.
(season 4 ep 4) Charlie asks Dennis if he still gets the feeling Mac wants to bang them, and that's why Mac makes project badass, Dennis agrees.
(season 4 ep 13) Nightman cometh. Mac gets a boner when Dennis' character pantomimes sex with him in the play. Dennis rips macs heart out (this comes back later)
S5-S7 MACDENNIS INTENTIONAL
Season 5 Macdennis hits like a truck. Dennis has feelings and they are BIG. We the audience witness a masterful display of homoerotic desire wrapped in a stunning amount of cognitive dissonance until "breakup" where Dennis is forced to confront the reality of his feelings. Following this crucial turning point, we are treated to a series of back and forth assertions of no-homo, feelings getting hurt, and lashing out. In order, we get Dennis introducing the dennis system, mac fighting gay marriage, Dennis getting married and kicking Mac out of the apartment, and finally Dennis getting a divorce.
Things are notably different between them post-divorce, marked by a mutual retreat from both Mac and Dennis. There's a shared reluctance to appear overly invested in each other romantically. This dynamic persists into Season 7, where Mac and Dennis noticeably maintain a considerable distance compared to previous seasons. In my honest opinion, this season exhibits the least Macdennis of any. Dennis being unhappy with Mac's weight gain likely contributes to this.
(Season 5 episode 1) Dennis suggests that they pretend to be gay married realtors. Some will say that being gay married was not essential to the scheme. Some would even say that to sell the being married thing Dennis did NOT have to be that touchy touchy. Source of baby boy nickname that has penetrated every corner of AO3 macden fanfiction.
(season 5 episode 8) PADDY'S THONG DUDE!!! PADDY'S THONG! I'm not wearing these because I'm comfortable I'm wearing them cause i wanna turn YOU on, you know what I'm saying??? you get it???
Mac jerks off a shotgun and blows its load in a kneeling dennis' gaping mouth.
(season 5 episode 9) They break up. In the podcast they say that this is a romcom. Dee points out that they act like an old married couple. Realization dawns on dennis's face and he proceeds to freak the hell out. Why? I mean... he knew it was true. We learn that they have a weekly movie night. Mac is jealous of video store clerk guy. We learn that they check in. Deleted scene at the end has Dennis blurting out that Mac has "beautiful lips" and again looking horrified.
(season 5 ep 10) Immediately after break up Dennis introduces his fool proof system for attracting WOMeN with big BIG BOOB for SEX.
(season 6 ep 1) Mac goes on a rampage against gay marriage after just last season being fake gay married to dennis. Dennis immediately gets married and kicks Mac out of the apartment. (Dennis also says he doesn't "have feelings", which Mac internalizes and it comes back in season 12)
(season 6 ep 2) dennis immediately divorces said woman and lets his boy toy (his words) come home.
radio silence all of season 7 except....
(season 7 ep 1) They go to the doctor, mac tries to carry dennis out bridal style. Dennis eats a chimichanga with Mac (romantic).
(season 7 ep 6) cold open, Dennis is holding Macs forearm while they watch the TV.
-season 7 we also learn that Mac slept with Dennis' prom date and it was very easy.
S8-S9 The kiss, the date, and the platonic naked wrestling shower scene
I believe this is the point where Mac starts to get the feeling something is off. (Again, Dennis realized in season 5). Mac has far more dissonance about it though, he like just wants to be best bros with Dennis for life, cause Dennis is like soooo cool. He is definitely not in love with Dennis he just loves Dennis like, as a blood brother. HE IS NOT GAY BECAUSE THAT IS A SIN. HE SERIOUSLY LOVES GOD A LOT.
In Season 8's Dines out Dennis delivers a speech wherein he admits that he thinks of Mac as a man who knows exactly who he is. Season 9's Mac day shows the total elimination of this belief after a full day filled with Macs self hating homophobia contrasting with his out and proud cousin "country mac".
(Season 8 ep 2) Whelp, God only knows how we ended up here after a drought like season 7, but 8 kicks off with a bang with an out of nowhere kissing attempt from Mac… right in front of Charlie too. By the look on Dennis' face I'm going to guess this has never happened before. I genuinely wonder what compelled him to do this…. like….is he just always thinking about it and forgot hes not supposed to do it for real? was it instinct?
(Season 8 ep 6) Dennis deals with emotional numbness, and nothing he tries makes him feel anything until the end of the episode where he feels too much after seeing his dead mother. This is not overtly macdennis but I think it demonstrates how he struggles with emotion and why Mac believes that Dennis does not have feelings.
(season 8 episode 9) Mac and Dennis are going on a fancy dinner date every single month. Monthly dinner and weekly movie nights.... anyway. Mac is upset that Dennis won't say something nice to him so Dennis does a speech to the whole restaurant. Yes he did kinda do it to dunk on frank and charlie. Yes he loved the attention. I think he meant what he said.
(season 8 episode 10) Dennis gets turned on by Mac totally intellectually dominating him while giving his anti science presentation. Also in the car at the end Mac was flirting.
(season 9 episode 3) Mac day. Praise God. Dennis is drowning in a sea of Macs delusion. Mac believes himself to be totally badass and not at all gay while repeatedly demonstrating the opposite. Country Mac shows Dennis what Mac could be if he was all the things he said he was and just embraced that he was gay. Dennis resents Mac.
(season 9 episode 6) saves the day. Macs fantasy involves Dennis wailing over his corpse, proclaiming his love. Dennis' fantasy is interesting, revealing his fear that Mac would abandon him the moment his sexual appeal fades. He envisions the possibility of being loved for more than his sexual abilities, yet his declaration of love precludes Jackie being hit by a car, leading to the loss of her breasts, and Dennis choosing to leave her. Lot to unpack here.
(season 9 episode 8) Mac and Dennis are trying to catch a rat. Mac tries to bash the rat, but Dennis says that its not about brute force, its about seduction. He turns on some romantic music and they both sway back and forth, looking into each others eyes, Mac takes a step forward, but Dee enters the room and the second dennis sees her he spins around and walks away.
I also feel the need to point out that Mac and Dennis went to high school together, and Macs nickname in high school was....well... Ronnie the rat.
(season 9 episode 9) Mac writes into the script of lethal weapon a scene where he and Dennis, I kid you not, wrestle naked in a shower. If you can call it wrestling... though it's more accurately described as an opportunity for an intense, naked embrace.
(season 9 episode 10) Cute food fight scene. Their apartment burns down.
s10-11 Out of their natural environment
Following the incineration of their shared home, macdennis moves in with Dee and all three of them hate it so so much.
(season 10 episode 1) Dennis looks at Mac like he wants to eat him (4 min 24 seconds) Mac says wait Dennis don't go and Dennis turns like he's expecting.... I don't know.
(season 10 episode 5) Mac and Dennis take turns watching and jacking off to creampie videos. Some will say they could just find their own porn, however I think this is one of the numerous creative ways they've found to have a sex life with each other.
(season 10 ep 3) Dennis is diagnosed with BPD.
(season 10 ep 6) The gang embarks on a journey of independence, only to discover that their lives are intricately woven together. For better or worse they will never escape each other, and will likely live this way until they die.
(season 10 episode 10) Dennis creates an entire fake cult to get Mac to do things he wants him to do. Says Macs been looking so good so sexy lately *manipulative*
(season 11 episode 4) Mac turns off the video Dee made about Dennis being raped by the librarian.
(season 11 episode 5) Macdennis play house. Mac asks Dennis if he can hear the beep too, Dennis gaslights him and says no, meanwhile getting increasingly agitated by the pool filter. It's already been explained more better by others but basically this is a metaphor for Mac wanting Dennis to acknowledge what has been happening between them, while Dennis adamantly avoids doing so. Instead, he channels his frustrations into unrelated problems.
Dennis hates going to work alone all day and Mac hates staying home, which could easily be fixed by having Mac come to work with him. Instead, Dennis' solution is a "honey-do list" (a list of chores a man would give his wife) and a dog, which Mac names DENNIS JR. (parallel to Dennis' real kid who is named Brian Jr. ) This kind of relationship paralleling is a recurring theme; for example in gets romantic, double life, and celebrity booze).
In the beginning of the episode Dennis wants to listen to Bryan Adams in the car. At the end of the episode Mac confronts him by saying "everything I do I do it for you, and everything you do you do it for yourself". (referencing the title of a very romantic Bryan Adams song)
dennis says he hates him
(season 11 ep 6) Mac asks Frank if he thinks Dennis hates him, because he just wants him to think he's cool and he puts so much work into this relationship and *unintelligible* (seriously if anyone know what Mac is saying when Frank spaces out please message me)
(season 11 ep 8) Dennis also knows about the gay bar
(Season 11 ep 10) 🎵 Amazing Grace how sweet the sauce 🎵
Mac comes out. When they play fake dinner Mac talks about him and Dennis' future home where they will have dinner parties and touches Dennis' hand. Confused, Dennis questions the idea of it being "their" home, seemingly operating under the misconception that he and Mac might eventually part ways and not continue living together.
Mac prays to god that they be saved and after being rescued he goes back into the closet.
s12 Mac claims to be gay and Dennis leaves the state of Pennsylvania
Season 12 is my favorite season!
Mac comes out, has a gay dream, gives Dennis a present, tries to insert himself as 2nd father of Dennis' child, and is swiftly abandoned.
Things start to get a little too real for Dennis, and hes just a little too vulnerable. Perfectly it turns out he has an opportunity to live the typical nuclear family lifestyle he's envisioned for himself and escape all his troubles.
(season 12 episode 6) Gay Mac rules! rich gay Mac!
The watershed moment wherein Mac comes out as gay for real this time. Dennis is beyond shocked.
(season 12 episode 7) Mac fully grasps that his feelings for Dennis are romantic after having a dream where Dennis kisses him. Upon waking he goes to find Dennis. Again Dennis dances towards him and leans in, Macs eyes light up thinking that his dream is coming true but Dennis slams the door in his face.
(season 12 ep 8) Dennis wants to completely ignore Valentines day because he doesn't think he has anybody who really cares about/loves him. Everyone in the gang openly states that they don't think he has feelings.
At the end of the ep. Mac has Dennis open a crate, which turns out to be an RPG (something that Dennis thinks is awesome and talks about all the time), and he tears up, he's incredibly touched. When Mac says there is no rocket (rendering the gift effectively useless) Dennis says he doesn't care, he loves it. Mac figured out the one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world and got it for him. This is likely not referring to the RPG but instead to the fact that he wanted someone to show him that they love him/care about him.
(season 12 ep 10) Dennis is revealed to have a son with Mandy, a woman who he had sex with on his layover from the wade boggs episode. To get him out of this jam Mac suggests they pretend to be in a relationship. Dennis, reluctantly going along with the plan, tells Mandy he sleeps with women but he is emotionally invested with Mac. When she is fine with it and says she wouldn't mind Brian Jr. having two dads, Mac enthusiastically agrees to parent Dennis' kid with him. When Dennis asks Mac why he would agree to that, since they are not a couple, Mac replies that he thought they could just keep pretending.
Mac wins a bet and gets to refurnish the apartment. He surprises Dennis by recreating their old apartment down to the last detail, save his own bedroom, which he leaves empty. He only buys Dennis a bed because he is hoping Dennis will go along with continuing to share a bed like they did at Dee's.
At the end of the episode Dennis announces he is leaving to go raise his son in North Dakota with Mandy. Nobody tries to stop him.
S13-14 DENNIS IS COMING BACK HOT
Dennis' 2 most angry/upset seasons.
In the season 13 promos Dennis is like a ghost, watching the gang laughing and talking without him. At some points they seem to notice that he's there, but just don't care. He is the only one spooked by the weird things happening around the bar.
In season 13 Dennis' returns and feels as though he is not important or needed by his friends. Mac has a journey of self-discovery, coming to terms with his sexuality and finding his identity as a gay man. Mac relies on Dennis to tell him what to do, desperate to please him, but Dennis wants Mac to take control and take care of him. Dennis only wants the illusion of control.
(Season 13 episode 1) Mac orders a sex doll of Dennis and swears he isn't blowing his loads into it. Dennis comes back.
(Season 13 episode 2) Mac finds a heart shaped lock clue whilst doing an escape room. Dennis says they should keep it between themselves.
(season 13 episode 4) Dennis holds a seminar where he publicly declares his own heterosexuality and lack of interest in Mac.
just gonna leave these quotes-
dennis- "some of you just haven't been careful enough, so youre asking yourself what can I do to save myself now. You gotta clean up your act otherwise you're going down, and you're gonna take me down with you and I ain't going down. You understand? I've been telling you this for years but you refused to listen"
----
mac- "and we should probably stop harassing them"
dennis, replying to Mac- " uh well you know, one step at a time we don't want the whole system to collapse" (but Macs only crime was being too open with his feelings for Dennis)
(season 13 ep 5) Dennis opens the floor for questions about his absence. He totally gets that everyone was giving him some space and respecting his privacy, and he's ready to talk about it now but...they just don't actually care....at all... (including Mac)
(season 13 episode 7) Its my personal interpretation that all of clip show happens in Dennis' mind in an episode of dissociation. He imagines that Mac decided to come with him to north Carolina. He imagines being confronted about why he would want to live with Mac if he "hates" him so much.
(season 13 episode 10) Mac comes out to his father in a beautiful interpretive dance and is rejected.
(season 14 episode 1) Mac tries to get into Dennis' good graces again by staging a scheme to get Dennis laid just like old times. Interestingly, Dennis isn't all that interested in banging. When its not working out with the woman, Dennis decides that it's because the leads are actually Mac and the husband. They can't seem to figure out that the leads are really each other.
Mac and Dennis are paralleled by the married couple while Charlie and Frank are mirrored by the father son duo..
"If you'd just give us a chance, we could tell a love story for the ages, a gay GAY ass love story". WE ARE READY AND SO WILLING
(season 14 episode 5) "Bathrooms at zoos are, like, big Grindr spots for closeted dads." (also refer to Macs super long pining text messages)
(season 14 ep 6) "all that for a whistle, I wonder what you'd do for a biscuit" I really don't understand how but apparently this episode really did happen and it wasn't in someones dream or anything like that??
(season 14 episode 10) Dennis says to Mac it's time to end the game. This could be interpreted as being about their 14 season song and dance, and would be backed up by the fact that the next season shows Mac completely backing off.
s15-s16 Acceptance and regret
mac tries to move on, Dennis misses his baby boy
(season 15 episode 1) We get some cute broke back mountain Macdennis. They play guitar and sing a love song they wrote together, looking into each other's eyes.
(season 15 ep 4) There's a subtle moment that's easy to miss. Dennis pats Mac's hand when they are talking to Charlie and Mac looks down at it, taking a deep breath.
(season 15 ep 5) Dennis has COVID and Mac isn't concerned, in fact he is irritated that Dennis wont admit he's sick. This is a big change from the last couple of seasons where Mac is desperate to take care of Dennis.
(season 16 episode 1) Mac and Dennis throw away all of their furniture including their beds. They now share an inflatable bed/couch and sleep together in it (just a couple seasons ago Dennis was absolutely refusing to sleep in the same bed as Mac). They are touching so much in the bed. Dennis is concerned for Mac because he has been continuously consuming nuts that he is allergic to (there's a metaphor here) and is heavily wheezing. Dennis gently places two fingers on Macs neck to check his pulse.
If Dennis did not want to sleep in the bed with Mac he would have gone and bought another inflatable bed. He would have made Mac sleep on the ground. He would have gone to sleep at Dees house. He wanted to be in that bed with Mac.
(season 16 episode 4) Dennis creates a fake dating profile under the alias of "Johnny". He buys Mac extra large anal beads to put inside of him at all times, and turns them on to signal to Mac to meet him at a hotel. He says he did it to....get him out of the house? and to get Mac to....buy him crab?
Dennis looks so devastated when Mac says he's in love with Johnny. I kinda wonder if it's the idea that Mac could love someone else that upsets him... or if he's reacting to Mac telling him he is in love with him to his face?
This is also the episode where we learn that Dennis has a fool proof method for attracting men. When Mac and Dee ask why he has this system he just shushes them.
(season 16 episode 5) The relationship between Malcom and his dad is a parallel of Mac and Dennis's relationship. The speech at the end to me seems like its hinting that Mac knows more/ has more control and power than is let on.
NEW INFORMATION JUST DROPPED I have just been made aware of the actual parallel between Malcom and the dad possibly being Dennis and Frank.
(season 16 episode 8) Nightmare! Nightmare! Nightmare!
Dennis takes a mental health day. Some people really hated this episode but I really liked it. Mac is putting coal in a pressure cooker to make diamonds. Dennis rips the CEO's (who is wearing a Hawaiian shirt like we've seen Mac wear) heart out, and squeezes it so hard it turns into a diamond and he eats it. This is a direct parallel to the nightman cometh where he also rips Macs heart out.
*edit to add* The director of this episode (who did not write the ep but still was involved in its creation obviously) Heath Cullens, in a reddit QA when asked if this was a nod to dayman replied "Nope. I think pretty much a coincidence." which I think is a total missed opportunity tbh.
This was all in Dennis' mind, and it seems to me that the Mac "situation" has left him with a sense of powerlessness. He feels isolated, trapped in an endless nightmare of his own creation, and he has nobody he can count on to help him, there's nobody he can rely on, he can only trust himself. Compressing the coal into a diamond represents Dennis molding everything to be exactly as he wishes, and by swallowing it he reclaims absolute control.
Always sunny book- : the 7 secrets of awakening the highly effective four-hour giant, today
"Mac for instance is also a 3 in ugly, so even if this exercise we're going to try fails, you'll have some company at your ugly parties. For the record, on the ugly scale charlie is a five, frank is a six, and Dee is a nine." - Dennis
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souliebird · 6 months
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
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When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.
When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can. 
And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger. 
Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.
Usually.  
Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.
You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well. 
That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart. 
Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child. 
You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.
Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things. 
Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it. 
Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen. 
You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal. 
The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then. 
You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone. 
Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"
You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.
You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good. 
You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone. 
You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market. 
About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"
The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"
You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."
She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."
"Okay, sweetie." 
You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her. 
She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little. 
Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.
You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump. 
You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.
It's just Matt. 
You open the door and your breath catches. 
It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way. 
He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway. 
Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob. 
"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up. 
"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass." 
You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect. 
"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level." 
Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."
"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"
Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."
"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it. 
"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.
"I told them. About you. About Minnie."
You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter. 
That's all you want. 
You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady. 
You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"
He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home." 
"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things." 
"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."
You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"
You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"
"I'm hungry!" 
She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler. 
You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"
Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is. 
Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie. 
"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle. 
Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."
Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"
You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.
"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"
You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him. 
You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try. 
Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."
"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises. 
You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down." 
Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one. 
Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"
You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."
Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness. 
This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay. 
Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."
You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."
"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."
The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.
"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks. 
He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it.  Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring. 
You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter. 
Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating. 
You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen. 
Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down. 
One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.
"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing. 
Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.
You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere. 
"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"
The only reply you get is upset screaming. 
"Cover her ears!" 
Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help. 
You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared. 
Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!" 
You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.
Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child. 
You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it." 
Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."
You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently. 
You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back. 
"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine. 
Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you. 
That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out. 
To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I." 
You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more. 
"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?" 
You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.
She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back. 
You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter. 
You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.
Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.
He looks absolutely murderous.
He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.
He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.
"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."
You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.
You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you. 
"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you." 
You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.
Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.
You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down." 
Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it. 
You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."
You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back." 
You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away. 
As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table. 
Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it. 
Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine. 
"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you. 
"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.
"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"
tags list:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @
two-unbeatable-beaters 
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reidsdaisies · 2 months
Note
PROTECTIVE EMILY WITH READERRRRRR
i would love to witness emily go a lil feral if maybe the unsub punches reader or something. the things that woman makes me feel 😩😩😩 i wanna be held by her and have her kiss my tears away
‘𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭’
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༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x gn bau!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; guns and typical cm case stuff, reader is shot in the shoulder but is okay, rephrasing of the iconic “I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out?” line, stressed emily :( and concerned emily, she blamed herself :(, you don’t blame her, kissingg<3.
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1k
༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i don’t think this is the exact situation you wanted, but this is the direction i took it. not proof read.
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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“Honey, don’t.”
You gave a silent nod, pressing your lips together in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. Her hand was pressed against your chest, the chest protected by the bulletproof vest you were wearing. She gave you a light pat before drawing her gun and swiftly turning the corner.
Two shots from her Glock is all it took before the unsub was out cold. You all knew he would try to ambush the two of you, just like he did with his victims, and so Emily needed you to be quiet in order for the situation to go the right way. Fortunately, it was easier than you guys had anticipated, and as she bent down to confiscate the perpetrator's weapon, she was taken aback when she looked up to see you turned around the other way, standing beside her with your gun drawn.
“Drop your weapon!” You yelled to the unknown man, but it was too late because he had already fired his shot at you. Luckily, his aim wasn’t too great, and even though you were hit by the bullet, it was in your shoulder, nowhere where the damage couldn’t be undone. You yelped, pushed back slightly by the force, hitting the brick wall behind you, completely caught off guard.
He doesn’t have a chance to redo his shot, because Emily is on it, aiming her gun at a particularly low area on his body.
“I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. Nothing is stopping me from taking you and the little ones out right now, so I’d advise you to listen to my partner and drop your weapon.”
The second unsub falters at that, clearly not wanting to sacrifice his private parts just for the opportunity to maybe shoot two FBI agents and have even more charges against him than he already has. With her words, he slowly lowers down to the ground, placing his weapon down and sliding it across the ground to her.
She stops the gun while still never taking her eyes off him. “Now, hands behind your back.”
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“Two unsubs? Two of them! How didn’t we know there were two of them?” She thinks aloud, pacing back and forth right in front of where you sit in the back of an ambulance. She runs a hand through her hair, sighing deeply.
“Em,” You drawl, looking at her with a look her brain, clouded by anger towards the man who hurt you, convinces her is betrayal, but in actuality is just concern.
“It’s my fault, you’re hurt and it’s my fault because I was so sure there was only one unsub.”
She winces at the memory of watching you get shot injury, her vision flashing back to the sight of you leaning yourself up against the wall, hand pressed over your shoulder, blood seeping through your fingers and down your sleeve.
“Emily, sit down and take a breath before you pass out and hit the ground and I’m no longer the only one sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting treated for a wound.”
“Right, you’re right, y/n,” she swallows, moving to sit down next to you on the edge of the ambulance. “It was just your shoulder, and we’ll be going back home soon. I didn’t mean to stress you out, it’s just I can’t stand seeing you in pain like how you were when he shot you.”
The EMT who’s treating your shoulder wound moves to your side, making room for Emily who’s now sitting on your left. You were shot in the right shoulder, so the EMT is still able to work on bandaging you up.
“I know Em, and you should know that it’s not your fault. None of us could have seen that turn of events happening, not even Reid, so don’t beat yourself up for it. And I also know you’re salty that Hotch won’t let you go over to the station to interrogate the man, but that’s most definitely for the best. I know what you’re like when you’re upset with someone for hurting the ones you love, and the guy seems like a pussy, I’m sure he would crap his pants.”
Emily lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the tension slowly dissipating from her features as she leans into your side. "You’re probably right, y/n," she admits, her voice softening with gratitude. "As much as I want to give that guy a piece of my mind, I know it's probably for the best if I leave it to Hotch, just this time."
You offer her a reassuring squeeze with the hand of your uninjured arm, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity.
She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion as she leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
She pulls back, smiling at you.
“You’re very strong, you know that y/n?”
You nod. “You remind me all the time.”
Emily breathily chuckles. “I mean it. You don’t let things like this phase you, and I admire that quality.”
This time you’re the one leaning in, pressing a kiss to her darkly-colored lips.
“Thank you for noticing, and for caring so deeply for me to the point that you get yourself all worked up about it. But also please don’t let your concern get to the level where you’re stressed like that, especially over something you didn’t have control over.”
“I can't make any promises.. but I will try, for you.” She seals her words with another kiss to your lips, the lips now tainted by her lipstick.
“All done,” the EMT says with a smile, pulling you two from your little shared moment.
“Let's get back to the station, y/n,” Emily says, hopping down from the vehicle and offering her hand to you, which you very gratefully accept.
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pascallllllll1 · 1 year
Text
Dizzy Spells
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Pedro Pascal x Reader
Word count: 1K+
Description: Pedro being the caring and loving boyfriend he is forces reader to get looked at after experiencing dizziness and fainting.
Warnings: Mentions use of IV’s/needles and unplanned pregnancy. Age gap relationship (very legal)
Pssst!
“Hey! Don’t play with that!” Hissed your overbearing boyfriend who currently resides at your bedside while reaching to stop you from fidgeting with the tape holding the IV in place. You’ve never been a needle person, your parents always scheduling appointments with your family doctor growing up for vaccinations and shots to save you the embarrassment of having a melt down in front of school nurses through the years. Now coming into young adulthood needles continue to make you very nervous, but you're not a blubbering baby that needs to be held down anymore. Some might call that growth. Right now you’re just thankful to whatever higher power is out there that Pedro won’t have to witness hysterical sobbing caused by a tiny needle, all because you’ve been light headed lately and may have fainted a few times. Which leads you to now, where you lay attached to an IV keeping you hydrated while reclined in the stiff bed, your boyfriend of only 5 months by your side stressing over every little thing while waiting for the doctor to come back with test results from your blood work.
“I’m sorry! It’s just really itchy. I wanna go home babe, I really don’t see why we had to come there’s nothing to worry about! It’s probably low iron or something.” Whining you poke out your bottom lip and look up at Pedro with big doe eyes and rest the side of your cheek on his broad shoulder. With a deep sigh Pedro opens his mouth to begin his speech on how it’s better to be safe than sorry and how he cares about you taking care of yourself when two short knocks come from outside the waiting room door. You're quickly repositioning yourself and begin sitting up eager to get this over with and calling out whomever was waiting on the other side of the door to come in. A tall busty woman walks in, clipboard and files in hand looking about Pedro’s age if not older, she looks over to you both when crossing the space to the end of the bed and does a double take when looking to Pedro then back to yourself. You can hear the hesitation in her voice before she asks,
“So who have you brought in with you for support today… Y/N?” She glances down at the now open file to double check your name before her eyes meet yours again waiting for an answer. Nervous, you look to your left hoping for Pedro to speak up for you. Suddenly realising how the question may have come across to you the doctor clarifies her meaning.
“I’m sorry, it’s just your results have come back and due to the nature of them I wanted to confirm you wanted him in the room to hear or if you’d like privacy and for him to step out a moment.”
“The nature of them?” Speaks up Pedro worriedly, concern deeply etched across his face. The doctor looks to you for confirmation that you’d like him to stay. Your mind is spiralling out of control with ideas of what’s wrong with you, what could possibly be going on inside your body, and already searching for ways to solve these hypothetical scenarios reeking havoc in your head. Needing Pedro now more than ever for moral support and comfort you nod to the woman to continue on with the test results.
“Ok. First and foremost I’d like to make it clear that you are healthy and nothing is wrong with you.”
Pedro exhales shakily at the new information and pulls you against his chest with his left arm around you, he kisses the side of your head and takes a moment to breathe you.
You look up to the doctor and ask,
“So what's going on with me then? How come I’ve been so dizzy and fainting?”
“Because you’re pregnant, about 3 weeks along.” Your body tenses up when you feel Pedro quickly release you from his embrace and shoot up out of the bed towards the doctor. The sound of a file opening and paper being hastily sorted through fills your ears. This is way too early in the relationship to be happening. Does he want a family with you? To marry you? A future? Does he see you as his end game? For crying out loud you weren’t even together publicly yet- HIS FANS! How would they react? Would they hate you over such a large age gap? Would they hate you for taking him off the market? Would they hate you for trapping him with a baby? Would he still have a career or would his fans drop him because of who he’s with? You couldn’t live with messing up his life. His dreams and achievements he’d worked so hard for. A large familiar hand pulls you out of the black storm of doubt and back to the present moment. The other comes up to cup the side of your cheek and trace a delicate thumb over your trembling bottom lip. Shifting your focus to the man now kneeling on the bed in front of you, your eyes are met with tearful brown ones staring back at you, undeniably full of love and childlike amazement.
“Baby,” Pedro pauses and takes a moment to clear his throat and sniffle,
“I will support ANY decision you make, and YES this is all 100% your decision to make,” closing his eyes as his voice breaks Pedro exhales loudly and wipes at his eyes before his hands resume to their previous spots.
“But I want to make it so very clear baby, I will stay by your side and support you and our child, I love you Y/N. I want our family if you’re willing to give it to me.” Looking at the man across from you now, there’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s the partner you want to have in life. You and him. Seeing the love he has for you, for your unborn baby who you’d literally just learned about triumphs any previous worries you’d had initially. He’s your person and your his, together you’ll share the most special experience two people can share, raising a child.
“Our family.” You whimper out.
“Our family.” Pedro confirms wrapping you up tight in his arms.
Thank you for reading!! I’m still learning and figuring this all out so any comments are more than welcome! I’d also like to mention that yes I’m writing about Pedro Pascal himself but I’d like to make it clear this is all pretend and a fake fantasy. In no way do any of us know who he really is as a person and this isn’t me trying to make him something he isn’t just sharing my personal daydream fake scenarios with y’all! Hope you enjoyed:)
2K notes · View notes
spiderispunk · 1 year
Text
return the favor
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: Fem!Reader. Mentions of Pregnancy. Reader and Bradley Have A Son. Dilf!Bradley. Oral Sex (m! receiving). Dirty Talk. Domesticity. 
Summary: He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too.
A/N: Honestly, I blame @withahappyrefrain​, @ouralcohol​, and Bud Light for this. 
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Little Nicholas “Nicky” Bradshaw came into the world kicking and screaming. Though he chose to make his grand entrance at around 3:30 AM on a quiet Thursday night, he was hell-bent on letting the whole world know about it. And so, with a whirlwind of forms, bills, and the shrill cries of the darling baby boy, you and Bradley were thrust into the throes of parenthood.
You both handled it well, or as well as you could for first timers. Working as a team to tackle midnight bottles, blowouts, spit-up and the frequent sleepless nights. You’d settled into an easy rhythm over the past seven weeks. Bottles every 2-3 hours. Naps in-between. Diaper changes. A little tummy-time when Nicky would tolerate it. 
Day in. Day out.
You were worried the Navy-issued twelve weeks of parental leave would make Bradley squirrely– the repetition would become tedious–but here you were more than half-way through, and you hadn’t heard him complain about a thing. 
If anything, Bradley took to the role of fatherhood eagerly. Sure, he might have missed being on base, the camaraderie, the planes, but he has other things to think about now. And he wouldn’t trade all the excitement for the joy of spending time with you and his son. 
Everyday was another milestone, and so far Bradley had been there to witness them all. 
“Nicky blinked at me today.” 
“He almost turned his head.” 
“I think I heard him try to say da-da.” 
“He drank his whole bottle!”
“Do you think he’s old enough to wear shoes yet?” 
Deeper down inside there was the growing fear of his impending absence . It wasn’t a question of if, but when . A mission would come, the phone would ring, and the goodbyes would begin. Pictures and grainy videos would stand in for the real thing.  
But he was here now, and he was determined to soak up as much as he could.   
Fatherhood suited Bradley. 
He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. 
It would be infuriating if it didn’t turn you on so damn much. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d opted to let the stubble on his chin get scruffy now that he didn’t have to comply with on-base grooming standards. 
For you, hopped up on hormones and the longing that comes with forced post-birth abstinence, it was a truly lethal combination. More than once, you’d gotten lost in your daydreams about what the coarse hair would feel like as his lips caressed your skin. Trailing down your neck, over your sensitive nipples, scratching between your thighs. 
You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too. 
You try to push the horny thoughts to the furthest recesses of your mind, as you enjoy the quiet afternoon. It’s a rare occasion. Nicky’s nap is going longer than usual–probably because he kept you and Bradley up the entire night before–so you’re trying to relish the stillness.  
You doze on the couch, head pillowed in Bradley’s lap while he scrolls through the endless black hole of his phone. His thumb circles mindless patterns into your upper arm and shoulder. He hums quietly under his breath. 
The TV is on, David Attenborough going on and on about the ocean and all its wonderful creatures. Sleep tugs heavy on your eyelids, aided by the soothing drone of his voice, and the patch of warm sunlight that falls over you. 
You’re thinking you might finally be able to catch up on lost sleep, when a wail crackles through the baby monitor. Harsh and breathy, it shatters the silence, snapping you to attention. A hunger cry. 
You sit up, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s due for a bottle.” You stretch your arms to the sky, groaning as the muscles in your back and shoulders stretch and loosen. “I’ll go warm one up.”
“Hey.” Bradley’s hand curls around your waist. “I got it.”
“You fed him last time,” you protest, turning to face him. “Stayed up with him for half the night, and changed his diaper three times in a row. S’not fair for you to do everything.”  
He cups your face, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. “I got it. He’s my kid. ‘Sides you were falling asleep.”
“Bradley–”
He cuts you off with a quick kiss. “Baby. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of Nicky.”
“I’ll pay you back,” you promise, eyes not-so-subtly scanning over his body. 
Bradley chuckles. “No payment necessary.” He kisses your forehead and then your lips once more. “Get some rest, yeah?” 
You nod, and stretch back out onto the couch. Bradley pulls the crocheted throw blanket over you and, with one last smile, heads upstairs.   
The door to the nursery squeals, and then you hear his voice through the baby monitor. 
“Hey, Nicky,” Bradley whispers. “Look at you. Sleep okay, bubba? Yeah? You ready for lunch?” 
The one-sided conversation continues as Bradley changes Nicky’s diaper. He asks about Nicky’s dream, tells him some of the facts he picked up from Our Planet, and shares his latest sports predictions. 
“Your Auntie Natasha thinks the Padres have a shot this year. I told her she was crazy at first, but I might be eating my words soon.” A pause. “That means I’ll have to admit I was wrong. It’s an idiom. Your mama’s the English teacher though, she can teach you all about that later.” 
You smile dopily at his words. The easygoing way he interacts with your baby. He’d been so worried at first. Scared to fail, scared Nicky wouldn’t like him. But there was no denying the simple fact that Bradley was meant to be a father. He proved that more and more everyday.  
The steps creak as Bradley begins his descent. “Gotta be quiet, okay? Your mama’s sleepin’. Yeah, you tired her out last night.”
You hear him moving around in the kitchen and then the soft gurgling of the bottle warmer. Nicky whines impatiently, and Bradley distracts him with more stories. The effect of his words are two-fold, soothing both your baby and you. You blink sleepily, snuggled up on the couch all comfortable and warm. A few minutes later, aided by the hush of Bradley’s voice, you fall into sweet unconsciousness. 
When you wake later, the room is wrapped in shadows. The once bright sunlight has started to dim. You swallow thickly, tasting stale breath. Your body aches from sleeping in the cramped space, limbs still heavy with sleep. 
You reach for your phone sitting face down on the coffee table. The screen is bright in the dark room. You squint to make out the round numbers. 5:52 . Fuck. You’d been asleep for hours . 
“Babe!” You call out. “Why’d you let me sleep this long?” No answer. “ Bradley .” 
Still nothing. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. The baby monitor wasn’t picking anything up either. Your heart twinges painfully in your chest, stomach turning with the thick ice of dread. 
You tap your phone screen again, looking for a message or a missed call. Any kind of clue as to where Bradley had disappeared off to. There’s a text waiting for you, must’ve missed it in your initial alarm. You scan it quickly and breathe out a sigh of relief. 
Almost out of diapers. Went to the store with Nicky. Don’t freak out. Love you honey. 
Panic now abated, you drop the phone back onto your chest. You should probably get up and do something, anything . There was no shortage of chores to do around the house. Laundry to fold. Dishes to wash. You were due for a pumping session too. But try as you might, and admittedly you don’t try very hard, you can’t bring yourself to disturb the peace. So you stay on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep.
You must have fallen asleep again, because sometime later you’re startled awake by the click of the front door. 
“Bradley?” you mumble, rubbing the heel of your hands into your eyes. 
“Hey, honey.” He kicks the door shut behind him. “Sleep okay?” 
“Yeah.” You stretch. “Freaked me out a little when I woke up and you guys were gone.”
Bradley kisses your forehead and flicks a lamp on. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to, but I didn’t wanna wake you up.”
You draw in a sharp breath when you see him. He’s looking sinful in a pair of jeans and a dark blue Henley. A backwards baseball cap rests atop his unruly hair. Your eyes flit over his body, head to toe. He prattles on about his errand, completely unaware of the fact that you’re currently undressing him with your eyes.
Somehow, at this moment, he’s the hottest he’s ever been. 
“Got more diapers. They’re in the car. I wanted to bring Nicky in first and get him settled. He fell asleep on the drive back. He got a compliment from the lady at the register. Honestly I think all this attention is starting to go to his head. Can’t help that he’s so cute though, he got it from you. I also got more onesies, cuz I saw them in Target and couldn’t help it. Oh and those peanut butter cups that you like from Trader Joes, and…” He trails off, catching you staring. “What?” 
“Babe,” you mumble, still in your lust-fueled trance. 
“Yeah?” Bradley’s eyebrows knit together. 
“C’mere.” 
He sets Nicky’s carseat down gently. “You’re looking at me weird. Did I do something wrong?” He asks, moving over to you slowly. 
You shake your head. “You let me take a nap, and you went to get diapers without me asking you to.”
“Uh huh. So?” He looks down at you, lips pursed. “I still don’t understand why you’re looking at me like that.” 
You don’t answer. Instead, you grab the waistband of his jeans and pull him towards you. 
“Whoa, baby.” Bradley stumbles forward. His hand covers your fumbling ones. “What are you doing?” 
Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “What does it look like I’m doing?” You undo his belt and pop the button of his jeans. 
“I mean it looks like you’re about to–” his gaze flits to where Nicky rests still fast asleep in his carseat. “Suck my dick,” his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Wait, right here? Shouldn’t we move–”
There was definitely logic in his words, but it didn’t really register at the moment. The only thing on your mind was him . Emerald tinted lenses colored your world. Greed plain and simple. For the taste of him. For the weight of him on your tongue. For the sound of his throaty groans to fill the air. 
“Bradley,” you whisper, lips following the trail of dark hair down his stomach to where it disappears into his elastic waistband. 
Your husband swallows thickly. “Yeah, honey?” 
You free his cock from his boxers. “Stop talking.” 
“But, sweetheart– oh fuck .” Bradley runs a hand over his face. 
“Let me return the favor.” You shush him. 
“You don’t have to do–” Bradley chokes as you swipe your tongue over his hip bone. “ Shit . Okay, yeah.” 
You spit into your palm and stroke him slowly. He’s halfway there, but getting harder with each languid flick of your wrist. You sink your teeth into his thigh and he groans throatily. The noise settles deep into your stomach, pulsing against your clit. 
You missed this. The heady paradox of being on your knees, yet having Bradley completely at your mercy. Making him feel good. Pulling him apart piece by piece. 
You mouth at the base of his cock, tongue laving at the underside of it. Bradley rests a hand at the nape of your neck. There’s no force behind the gesture, it’s more like he’s anchoring himself than pushing you further onto him.
“Fuck, baby.” His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw slack, and lips slightly parted. “ Christ. ” He rocks his hips forward into your hand. 
A wordless plea. You know what he’s asking for. Your mouth slides up his shaft slowly, and you swirl your tongue around the head, still pushing, still teasing. It’s only when Bradley moans brokenly that you decide to have mercy on him. 
Your lips part, and you swallow him down slowly. His head tilts forward and he lets out a breathless whisper of your name that has you squeezing your thighs together as your clit throbs. 
Bradley’s a perfect picture of debauchery above you. Shoulders drooped and leaning over you slightly. His face is flushed, eyebrows screwed together. The veins on his neck and arm bulge prominently. His grip on your neck tightens, and he gently guides you forward. 
You take as much as you can handle, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. Your jaw aches from the lack of practice. But it’s worth every bit of discomfort to hear the moans and praises he levels your way. 
“Your mouth feels so goddamn good, honey,” he whispers, when his cock hits the back of your throat. “Just like that, baby. Such a good girl. You’re doing so good. Keeping going, sweetheart.”
Your hand drifts downward of its own accord, and dips into the waistband of your leggings. You rub insistent circles into your clit to relieve the ache. It’s been so long, you think you could come from this alone.
“Look at you getting off,” he says, hazel eyes blazing into your own. “Wish you could see how pretty you look with my dick in your mouth, baby,” he mumbles, lazily thrusting forward.
Bradley cups your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheek where he can feel his cock moving. He rolls his hips forward again, biting his bottom lip as he watches your lips stretch to accommodate him. 
“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing your hair out of your face so he can see you better. “Taking me so well. Gonna make me come.”
You moan, and Bradley chuckles.
“That what you want? Want me to come down your throat?” 
You blink up at him, pleading with watery eyes. You wanted it more than anything. 
“Yeah? Gonna swallow every drop, like a good girl?” The thought sends a shudder down his spine. “My good girl. Won’t last long with you looking at me like that.” 
That’s the plan . 
You move the hand on his thigh around to gently squeeze his balls, and Bradley thrusts forward sharply.
“ Shit –sorry, baby.” His thumb brushes at the newly shed tears that track down your face. “You okay?” The fire in his eyes dies slightly as he searches your gaze for any sign of pain or reluctance to continue. 
Instead the only thing he finds there is hunger and greed. 
This time when you squeeze, you’re ready for his reaction. You take his next roll of his hips easily. And the next, and the next. Letting Bradley gently fuck your face. He was close, you could tell by the slur of his words, the inconsistent buck of his hips. 
“Goddammit,” Bradley says through gritted teeth. His fingers snag into your hair, tugging at the nape. “Gonna fucking kill me, honey.” His chest heaves with shallow breaths. “‘M gonna come, sweetheart. You ready for me?” 
Please, oh please . Your thoughts chant, words blurring into a slurry. You hope your eyes convey the desperation you feel. 
Bradley’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He bites his pointer finger, trying to muffle the shameless groan he lets out as he unravels. 
You take all he gives, and he gives you so much. His cum coats your throat, and you swallow as much as you can, but you have to pull away for air. The last dribbles of his cum paint your lower lip and drip down your chin. You tilt your head back and stick your tongue out to show off your empty mouth. 
Bradley stares at you, eyes crossed and unfocused. He pushes his hat off and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “Fuck, baby.” 
He swipes at your lip, smearing the cum and spit into your skin. “Don’t look at me like that.” 
“Like what?” You smirk. 
“All innocent and shit.” Bradley pushes his ring finger into your mouth. “I’ll fuck you right here.” 
You clean the digit off with your tongue and pull away with a pop . “You promise?” You arc an eyebrow up.
“Fuck.” He leans down and gives you a kiss that leaves your toes curling. “Give me five minutes to put Nicky in bed, and I’ll be right back.” He whispers. 
You lean back and peel your shirt from your body. “ Tick tock .” 
Bradley bites his bottom lip, eyes sliding hungrily over your body. “Don’t go anywhere.” He points a stern finger at you. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you chuckle. “Hurry up so you can fuck me.” 
He grabs the carseat, and still manages to be gentle despite his obvious excitement. “Five minutes, baby, I promise.” 
Bradley’s never one to break a promise. 
2K notes · View notes
sea-owl · 7 days
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Ok but I wanna talk about Portia in that trailer and the absolute pride in her voice when she's taking to Penelope.
I personally love Portia's character and how she's been a foil to Violet in that she's a loving mother, but she's also a realist about the society they live in. She's a tough love, no nonsense type of mother. She's making sure everyone survives as a top priority, if she has to be mean to get them there than so be it.
She's been at odds with Penelope the last two seasons mainly because of their different views. Portia is a realist, while Penelope still has dreams like most 17-18 year olds. Portia, in her own way, has been trying to bring Penelope back to reality.
An example of this to me is the scene where Portia finds out Penelope has been writing to Colin. The first thing she says "I declare Penelope," in a softer tone and when Penelope declares Colin her friend that tone becomes more strict. She tells Penelope, "Colin Bridgerton is no more your friend than I am the next Catherine the Great." Is it mean? Yup. But looking at it through Portia's eyes there's some truth to it. Their society doesn't allow friendships between single men and women. Colin and Penelope writing to one another without being engaged or even a proper courtship was actually very inappropriate. Portia probably does understand that there really isn't anything inappropriate in those letters and they are actually friends but she also knows no one else would see it that way. If she wanted she would have been well within her rights to go to Anthony about it and raise a fuss. She needs Penelope to see this too.
Now come season 3 in Portia's pov Penelope is finally taking the marriage mart seriously. She's got herself a suitor who is a titled lord, and Portia is proud of her. No more silly little fantasies of love. Meanwhile Penelope is probably weirded out with some other mixed feelings by this because this isn't what she is used to from her mother.
Makes me excited to see where their relationship goes. Because honestly, Penelope probably inherited the most from her mother, but she's in denial about it. It mostly comes out in Lady Whistledown, but that sharp wit and scheming mind is Portia. Penelope will actually fall into Portia's line of thinking when she's backed into a corner. When she saved both Colin and Eloise, she knew they would be hurt, and she's sorry about that, but she also knows they'll be safe. That is Portia's school of thought 101.
I've also been wanting to see how they approach the big heart to heart between the two of them. I want them to get into a screaming match that breaks down into them sincerely talking to one another. Penelope's confidence is supposed to get a boost this season, and we know she's not afraid to subtley barb at her mother. I hope they have Penelope confront Portia at some point, forcing everything out in the open.
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sigmoon · 1 month
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Stepdad!Fyodor . . . [final part]
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Desperate times call for desperate measures. As much as you want to, Fyodor doesn't feel the same way about your relationship as you, and nothing you do seems to change that, not even a joint visit to his best friend. As if things couldn't get any worse, you start to get into serious trouble at college. Eventually, you find out what's keeping Fyodor from being yours alone, but in both cases, you have to resort to drastic solutions.
[pt. 1] [pt. 2]
cw: dark content; stepcest, smut, threesome, double penetration, spitroast, creampies, cheating, power imbalances, implied underage, Nikolai is a creep, teacher/student affair, blackmail, manipulation.
Pairings: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x fem.reader x Nikolai Gogol + Osamu Dazai x fem.reader (separately)
wc: 6.8k
Author's note: I had so much fun creating and writing this series over the last few months! I can't believe I've finished it :< A big thank you to all my readers, everyone who contributed to this work, and all the nice anons and my lovely moots <3
⟢ "I’m so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there’s other men I don’t want / If I can’t have you, no one will." - SZA / Kill Bill ⟢ "I remember thinkin’ I had you / And I can see us twisted in bedsheets / August slipped away, like a bottle of wine / ‘Cause you were never mine." - Taylor Swift / august
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With each passing day, your gleeful anticipation to sleep with Fyodor and his friend only grew. Partly because the idea seemed more and more fun to you, doing something completely different from your previous sexual activities, but mostly because your opportunities to sleep with Fyodor had drastically decreased since the dinner that had almost put your little affair at stake.
And although your mother’s suspicions had turned out to be wrong, Fyodor had deemed it necessary to be extra cautious from now on, to which you had agreed, until it eventually clicked that this meant having notably less sex with him. 
Not only did it rarely occur anymore, thanks to Fyodor trying his best to fulfill his duties as a loving, faithful husband, and spending a lot more time fucking his wife, rather than his stepdaughter, but the few times you did get to sleep with him, lacked the passion that had been characteristic the first few times. Each time was a quickie, hurried and devoid of foreplay and aftercare, both essential parts of your lovemaking in its earlier stages.
While your mother was on cloud nine, with an attentive husband like Fyodor, and received all the attention that you felt was your birthright, you were forced to witness their ecstasy, betrayed by the sounds of bed springs creaking, their heavy breathing and suspicious thumping seeping through the walls at night. 
Each time you lay in bed with a pillow over your head at night, trying to block out the noises that you ought to make, not her, you grew more and more frustrated, feeling so deprived of your nightly fun, that you thanked the gods when the day finally came– the day Fyodor was going to visit his best friend, and taking you with him to introduce you to a new sexual experience, promising that it would be fun.
But in your opinion, Fyodor could’ve fucked you behind a dumpster in a filthy alleyway and you would’ve been content, as long as he was yours alone, not your mother’s.
Of course, Fyodor had come up with a very fitting lie about how you two were going to spend the day and not be back before evening in advance.
Now that you’d passed your finals (in all honesty, the lack of sex with Fyodor had had a positive effect on your performance at school, at least you’d managed to study well enough to eventually graduate high school, despite your inner turmoil), it was time to find a college to visit soon. 
Being the responsible father that your mother knew him as, Fyodor had offered to spend the day visiting several local schools in one go, to help you decide on one. 
Your mother didn’t have to know that Fyodor had already helped you apply for a school that was good in his eyes and also enabled you to keep living at home weeks ago and that your destination for the day wasn’t different campuses, but his best friend’s apartment, or, to be precise, said friend’s king sized bed with sheets that felt so expensive it was obvious that he had a generous income that he didn’t have to spend on kids of his own.
You’d long forgotten about your mother’s dreamy smile that she'd flashed Fyodor when he had proposed his selfless idea to help you to her, or how she’d wished you fun and good luck when you had left the house earlier.
Now that you were on all fours on the luxurious satin sheets, your clothes long discarded on the bedroom floor, your mind was on nothing but the men in front and behind you, stuffing you with their cocks. 
Nikolai had been giddy and eager to fuck you first, and, after waiting for your approval, Fyodor had allowed it, willing to patiently await his turn. In the meantime, he was enjoying the blowjob you gave him, sprawled out before you with his thighs spread wide.
“God, you're so cute. You feel so fucking good, baby,” groaned Nikolai, his hands, larger and rougher than Fyodor’s, kneading your ass as he buried his cock inside your cunt. “Can’t believe your daddy here waited until you were eighteen to fuck you.”
Fyodor, whose hands gently rested on the back of your head, as you slowly bobbed it up and down his length, hummed in response. “I believe taking advantage of a minor’s curiosity to fulfill one’s desires is wrong. But some people obviously have a different opinion on this.”
“Killjoy,” Nikolai scoffed. He grabbed the soft, supple flesh of your ass harder and gave you a little smack. “Let me tell you, sweetie, I wouldn’t have made you wait. Age is just a number, ain’t it?”
You could only whimper in response. You didn’t quite know what to say, as Nikolai’s words carried something creepy, yet he was much hotter than how you’d remembered him, and his groping, combined with the way your stepfather caressed you as your lips were wrapped around his cock, nearly drove you insane.
“Be gentle with her, Kolya,” Fyodor reprimanded his friend. “She’s not like one of your immature little playthings that you can toss around as you please.”
But before you had the chance to overthink Fyodor’s words, Nikolai firmly held on to your hips and pulled you back against him, making you yelp as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your cervix. You moaned around Fyodor’s cock, and it almost slipped out of your mouth.
Nikolai enjoyed your reaction greatly, and he cackled before thrusting again, even harder this time.
„She’s not as fragile as you think, Fedya. See, she likes being fucked hard.“
Not quite convinced, Fyodor tilted your chin upwards, searching for signs of discomfort on your face. “Are you alright, sweetheart? We can stop anytime if you want to.”
His attentiveness was truly touching, and despite the man behind you moving in and out of you at a relentless pace, you smiled and kissed Fyodor’s palm. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”
“If you say so…but your word is our command, little one,” Fyodor said and leaned back against the headboard of the bed once more, allowing you to pick up where you’d left off and pay attention to his cock. 
“So if Kolya does something you don’t like, tell him. He needs to be put in his place now and then…”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Nikolai and he reached forward to grab your tits, groping them while he kept fucking into you. “Nobody has ever complained about my performance in bed before.”
It was hard to focus on the task at hand, pleasuring Fyodor, when his friend’s cock, bigger and girthier than his, dragged along your wet walls the way it did, pulling one string of incoherent moans after another from you. 
When Nikolai sped up his movements, and shoved your body forward, almost making you choke on Fyodor’s cock as it slipped deep into your throat, you gave up. You gagged and recoiled, coughing.
“Hold on…”
“Aww, two dicks too much for you to handle, little girl?” Nikolai chuckled. 
“I need a little break,” you told Fyodor with an apologetic look.
“Take your time,” Fyodor whispered and wiped the saliva that dripped down your chin away with his thumb, but you could see from the deep red color of his cock’s tip, and the way it twitched, that he’d been close to cumming, hadn’t you stopped all of the sudden. 
“You’re giving your poor daddy blue balls!” Nikolai laughed, as he once again picked up the pace, grabbing your hips tightly and rutting into you. His pace was relentless and his strength and stamina greater than Fyodor’s, you had to admit that. 
“Don’t you worry about me,” Fyodor said. He brushed your hair, that stuck to your sweaty forehead, out of your face and smiled gently. “We’ve got the whole day, and you ought to enjoy yourself. This isn’t about my pleasure–”
“Right, my bad,” Nikolai sneered and reached down to rub your clit in quick circles while he pulled out of you halfway, only to slam his cock right back into your pussy. “I forgot your balls belong to your wifey now. Snip snap, you left them at the altar.” He cackled at his joke and pinched your clit between his thumb and index finger, making you whimper.
Fyodor’s smile faded, and he glared at his friend. 
“Shut up, Kolya,” he scowled. “Don't speak so ill of my wife.”
“Ohoo, kitty’s got claws now?”
“She had every reason to not want you to visit anymore. And even if she didn’t, do you seriously think I would’ve let you…do what you had in mind?”
“You're just as sick and depraved as I am, my friend. After all, you're fucking your own daughter...” Nikolai grinned, his smirk a sinister one.
You were slowly getting fed up with their bickering. Too fucked out to properly follow their conversation, you were left lying between them being used like a soulless toy, with neither of the men paying attention to you and your pleasure, like they had in the beginning. What annoyed you the most was Fyodor defending your mother’s honor, as if she had to be mentioned and praised by him in a situation like this.
You sat up to pull away from Nikolai and instead grabbed Fyodor’s shoulders, slamming your lips against his, messily making out with him. 
“Shut up already and fuck me, will you?” you growled at him. Your stepfather swallowed thickly, looking genuinely taken aback. Your own crude words made you blush, but whatever it took to get Fyodor’s attention, you were willing to do. 
“Hey, what about me?” Nikolai sulked since you made him the third wheel. He looked adorable, hard, needy cock bobbing against his abs as he sat there, forced to watch you make out with Fyodor.
“Watch us,” you grinned and straddled Fyodor, who was still on his back. When you sank down on his hard cock, slowly, drawing a guttural moan from both of you, you kept eye contact with Nikolai. “Touch yourself…”
Nikolai’s eyes were wide like saucers, and he stared at where yours and Fyodor’s bodies were connected. Just like you’d ordered him to, he wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed it slowly. 
From the corner of your eye, you could see that the size wasn’t the only difference between their genitals. While Fyodor was circumcised, and his dick was the first real one you’d ever seen, it fascinated you to watch how Nikolai’s foreskin was continuously pulled back and forth as he pleasured himself. A truly educational experience.
The sight beneath you was beyond beautiful. As you looked down, you cupped Fyodor’s face; lids fluttered shut, a thin layer of sweat on his pale skin, lips parted as whines and muttered curses spilled from them. 
“I love you…Fedya, I love you,” you said, and buried your face in the crook of his neck, whimpering each time his cock kissed your cervix.
“I love you…too, honey,” he whispered, and you believed him, believing that he meant it in the same way that you did. One of his hands held your waist, the other stroking up and down your back. “My beautiful girl…”
The gentle pace, the whole sensual moment just between you and Fyodor, only lasted for a few minutes and was interrupted when Nikolai started to get bored of jerking off to the scene before him and sat up on his knees and scooted closer. You felt him grab your ass from behind, kneading the soft fat and watching how a creamy white ring of your arousal formed at the base of Fyodor's cock.
“Ever been fucked in the ass, sweetie?” he asked, and before you could answer, you felt his thumb flick over your asshole.
You gasped, as the sensation was strange, unknown, but surprisingly pleasant.
“N-No…ah, but…that feels good…”
Nikolai smirked and leaned down to drag his tongue over your hole, wetting it with spit. He spread the makeshift lube with his thumb, and carefully applied a bit of pressure, until the finger slipped inside, making you mewl.
“I’m not surprised. Your daddy isn’t into anal, although I've been trying to tell him what he’s missing out on for nearly twenty years.”
“Why would I…when there’s another entrance for that?” Fyodor said through grit teeth and slowed down the pace of his thrusts a bit. 
“So narrow-minded,” Nikolai shook his head and slipped another finger inside your ass. You moaned at the stretch, as well as at how Fyodor kissed your neck and collarbones.
“Are you sure you want both of us at once?” he whispered, gently stroking your hair. 
“Yes, I wanna try.”
“Yay!” exclaimed Nikolai, and pulled his fingers out of you, spat into his hand and smeared his saliva all over his cock. “Today’s my lucky day!” 
The stretch of Fyodor’s cock was already enough to make you see stars. But when Nikolai carefully pushed the tip of his dick inside your asshole, your mouth fell agape and you gasped. 
You’d never felt so full before, and Nikolai didn’t give you much time for adjustment, as he bottomed out in one single, slow thrust.
“Shit…ah, so fucking tight!”
You rested your head on Fyodor’s chest while taking deep breaths, still getting used to the foreign stretch in your ass. The sound of Fyodor’s heart pumping blood, like a song that was made just for you to hear, and the feeling of his chest heaving with each breath he took felt like a peaceful wave carrying you. 
“Mine,” you whispered breathily, but Fyodor didn’t even hear it, because at the same moment, he groaned and threw his head back into the pillows, as he felt Nikolai’s cock through the membrane that separated your ass from your pussy, when the latter entered you.
You groaned too, feeling the two men moving inside you at once, and your mind went foggy again as they continued using your holes to get themselves off.
“Are you already close, Fedya?” Nikolai groaned, not missing how Fyodor bit his lip in an attempt to last a bit longer. The way you felt so much tighter now, and the pornographic act of fucking you together with another man made it hard for your stepfather to keep his orgasm from crashing down over him.
“Mhmm…” he replied with a grunt. “Ah, fuck!”
Nikolai had reached down, grabbing a firm hold of his friend’s balls, earning a loud whine from him.
“I wanna watch you cum, your orgasm face is priceless,” he panted and squeezed Fyodor’s balls. Nikolai's cock was buried deep in your ass, though it only lingered there before he pulled out halfway and thrust back into you.
It felt amazing, overwhelming but so good. You made a mental note to beg Fyodor to do that to you too sometime, once this was over.
And oh, how right Nikolai was. When you slept with him, you were often too dizzy to properly witness Fyodor’s face when he came, but when you did manage to catch a glimpse of it, while sucking or jerking him off, for example, it was like a work of art, meant to be exhibited in a gallery for the world to see. And yet, it was all yours, and it was especially pretty to look at how his features contorted in pleasure and he let himself go completely, and knowing it was the result of your work.
Unable to voice his approaching release, Fyodor pulled you tighter into his embrace and dug his teeth into your shoulder. You cried out as well, both from the pain and the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you and painting your walls milky white.
“Feels good, dollface?” Nikolai asked you, grabbing your face to make you look at him. “You like being stuffed with your Daddy’s cum, huh?”
“Yes, yes! I love it!” you whimpered, lips swollen and red from biting them. Nikolai had adjusted his position and was fucking your ass at a new angle now, allowing him to drill his cock deeper inside you than before. His pubes tickled the soft skin of your ass, as he buried himself inside you to the hilt, waiting a few seconds, and pulling out entirely with an obscene sound.
“Don’t stop, please,” you pleaded, your focus fully shifted away from Fyodor, who was still recovering from the aftershocks of his high, eyes closed and chest heaving with shallow breaths.
“Little fucking slut…”
Your hole was gaping, clenching around nothing, and Nikolai inspected it with delight. 
“Want my cum in your ass, hm? Is one load not enough for you?”
Nodding frantically, you wiggled your ass, hoping that he would put an end to your agony and finally grant you your own orgasm. 
“Yes, please…please..”
He grabbed your hip with one hand, and stroked his dick with the other, tapping it against your hole. He was so close he ached already, and even if you wouldn’t have begged him, the chance was low that Nikolai would have managed to resist finishing inside you. 
He pushed in a last time, leaning into you with his full body weight, and spilled into you with a groan.
Hot, thick ropes of cum painted your insides, a lot more than Fyodor’s load. As he caught his breath, Nikolai remained folded over your back, pressing down against you.
“Kolya,” Fyodor mumbled, sounding pretty exasperated, and patted his friend's back– understandable, as there were two people lying on top of him, and Nikolai was heavy.
Obediently, he rolled off of you, and sprawled out like a starfish next to you and your stepfather. Fyodor too, pulled out of you and you felt empty again, aside from the two heavy loads slowly oozing out of your holes. You felt filthy but in a good way. Being jizzed on had never felt wrong when Fyodor was involved.
“How are you feeling, darling?” He whispered into your ear, as you snuggled against each other on the king-sized bed. This moment was yours alone, and you wished you could freeze time and stay like this forever. Fyodor smelled like sweat, and you were sticky with cum, but rarely had you ever felt this content after sex.
“Perfect. I’m with you, Fedya,” you hummed into the crook of his neck and kissed him there. “How are you? Was I good?”
“What a question. Of course, you were, you’re my perfect little girl,” was his response.
Next to you, Nikolai had started to doze off, softly snoring. He looked a mess, though you were hardly looking any more put-together at the moment. His blond hair was disheveled, cheeks flushed, and his cock, which slowly softened as it rested against his toned abs, was still smeared with both your bodily fluids. 
“He fell asleep,” you giggled quietly and reached out to run your hand through Nikolai’s hair, playing with the strands, soft to the touch. “How cute.” 
“He’s always out cold after sex, the moment he’s finished,” Fyodor snorted. 
“How do you know?”
Fyodor raised a brow at you and grinned. “I was also young, some time ago. You think this is the first time we’ve done something like this?”
He laughed when your cheeks grew hot, and you shyly looked away. You could hardly imagine a younger version of him sleeping around with Nikolai and a third party. 
Your stepfather cupped your face and kissed your forehead. “But none of those little adventures ever compared to you.”
───────────────
You’d had your fun at Nikolai’s, there was no denying that, but essentially, that little adventure had only made your bond with Fyodor stronger. At least that’s how you felt.
While you loved and wanted him more than ever before, the love he showed you at home was that of a father, as platonic as it could’ve been, and no trace of the romance you thought had sparked between you at Nikolai’s was left.
Sure, he was affectionate and kind as you knew him to be, but day by day, it got more difficult to deny the obvious: he wasn’t yours, but your mother’s.
Anyone would’ve been grateful to have parents who had a relationship as loving as theirs was, and you were too, in a way. After all, your father, when they had still been together, had never adored your mother as much as Fyodor did, and you knew that your stepfather’s feelings for her were real. And that was the biggest problem.
Fyodor loved you, he’d never shied away from telling you that, but after each time you two had sex, he kissed you goodnight and he was hers again. 
You knew by now that he wasn’t just pretending to only feel fatherly affection for you to keep your secret safe. 
The love he felt for you didn’t go any further than that, as deep and genuine as it was, and his nightly desire for you didn’t change that. As much as you wanted him to, he didn’t see you as a partner, a lover, as his.
And it was all her fault.
───────────────
Your first semester in college had started, but instead of connecting with your peers, going out, and enjoying the classes that you would’ve found interesting under different circumstances, you were busy ruminating about what in the world you had done wrong to be undeserving of Fyodor’s love, that your mother was lucky enough to be showered with day and night. 
Unfortunately, your lack of focus and drive started showing in your grades, the missed deadlines, and the unattended classes that piled up. 
But even that went past you, trivialities undeserving of your energy, as you thought, until one day, one of your professors asked to stay in the lecture hall for a moment once the class had ended.
“Is something the matter, professor Dazai?" you asked once the rest of the students had left the hall, and the heavy wooden door had fallen shut.
“Yes, I’m worried about your performance,” he said and crossed his arms, leaning back against his desk. “If you don’t start taking your education seriously soon, you might fail a few classes, mine included. Do I bore you so much you can’t bother to pay attention to my lecture once a week?”
Shit, you thought. It didn’t surprise you that your professors had a critical opinion about your sleazy attitude by now, but the possibility that you might fail if you kept going like this, hadn’t crossed your mind until now, that’s how mentally absent you’d been.
“No, of course not,” you said quietly, staring down at your shoes. “But I’m having a bit of a hard time at home right now, you know. So–”
“I don’t care,” Dazai interrupted you. “Save your excuses. What I do care about is for you to pass this class, as well as your others.”
Professor Dazai was popular among your fellow students; handsome, and young, compared to most of his colleagues, who all seemed to be about a decade older than him. 
His lectures were usually very entertaining, due to his charisma and wit– he was a true heartbreaker. 
There were plenty of students who started blushing and whispering to each other in the hallways when he was in sight, and you had often overheard a handful of girls giggling and talking about him in the bathroom as they gathered in front of the mirror by the sink, as they combed their hair or reapplied their makeup. 
Ever since your first semester had begun, you also heard rumors about him sometimes, and allegations that he had scandalous relationships with students on occasion.
Naturally, you were surprised at his sudden sternness, another side to him, one that had very little understanding for your laziness.
„Yes, I understand. But I am struggling at the moment. Is there anything I can do to pass after all?“ you asked, hoping to receive some kind of support or advice. Of course, you couldn’t tell Dazai the reason for your poor performance. 
„Study? Maybe don’t skip your classes? Get your head out of the clouds and take this seriously, I’m sure your parents are paying a lot of money for you to be here, and they wouldn’t be happy if it all went to waste, would they?”
„Thank you very much, sir,“ you huffed, wanting to turn around and leave the lecture hall. You’d assumed Dazai had intended to give you some useful advice, not darken your mood further. 
„However…if that’s too much to ask of you, I could offer you something else.“
„I’m all ears.“ You stopped in your tracks.
„Well, I’m always happy to help my students find solutions when they’re struggling. So, if you’ll allow me to…offer you my support, I can guarantee you that you’re going to pass all of your classes.“
„But I thought you only teach contemporary literature and art? How are extra lessons, or whatever you’re suggesting, gonna help me pass my other classes?“
„You’re not very smart, are you?“ your professor scoffed. „I’m not talking about extra lessons.“
„Then what do you mean?“ You frowned, letting Dazai’s words sink in. 
„Lord, give me strength,“ he murmured, then cleared his throat. „What I’m offering you is a little deal between you and me. I have good connections in this institution and more influence than you think. But my help has its price– we’re doing each other a favor, that’s it.“ 
“What do you want?”
Dazai remained silent, merely raising his brows and letting you fill in the blanks. You had an eerie feeling that there was only one thing left he could mean…
„Sex?“
“Bingo.”
“No!” 
You couldn’t do this. You didn’t want this. Yes, he was hot, but not hot enough to be worth cheating on Fyodor with. You shooed away the thought that technically, you and Fyodor weren’t even in a committed relationship, so sleeping with someone else didn’t count as cheating.
„Alright, alright, I was merely trying to help you out. You don't have to, of course. But in that case, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you,” Dazai shrugged.
With that, the professor turned around, grabbed the stack of books he’d used for today’s earlier lecture from the desk, and made his way to the door.
“No, wait!” you called out, just when he reached for the door handle. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Good. After class next week. Wear something cute.” Dazai winked and shot you a last glance before he left the lecture hall. The sound of the heavy door falling into its lock still echoed in your ears, as you made your way home, paralyzed about the decision you’d just made.
───────────────
For almost ninety minutes straight, you’d stared at the clock on the wall, as if your penetrating gaze would make the time pass faster. 
When the bell finally rang, announcing the end of the lecture, you waited for the other students to leave the hall. 
You wanted to shoo them all out, so you could just get the thing that awaited you over with, but they took their sweet time, chattering about the contents of the lesson and other trivialities with one another as they packed up.
“You coming?” one of your classmates, another girl that you’d befriended over the past few weeks, asked when you stayed seated.
“Go ahead, I’ll be right there. I just have a question about the assignment,” you said quickly.
“Okay,” she smiled, unsuspecting, and reached for her bag, before she left the room, leaving you and Dazai alone.
Your professor shut the door behind her and pretended to sigh wearily. 
“Too bad she’s got straight A’s. I’d love to give her a little private lesson too,” he chuckled. 
You grimaced at the crude joke he’d made about your friend but left it uncommented. The less you talked now, the sooner this was going to be over.
You rose from your seat and approached Dazai, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, trying to kiss him. He pulled back and cringed.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“No, this isn’t how we’re doing this. Turn around, bend over the desk.”
You hesitated but did as he said. The surface of his desk was smooth and cold, and you shivered, though you weren’t sure whether that came from the desk or the chilly atmosphere. 
This was a lot different from sleeping with Fyodor, or even Nikolai. While Nikolai had also been less affectionate than Fyodor was with you, even he had enjoyed thoroughly making out with you before he’d wanted to fuck you. 
But Dazai not only lacked the affection and liking for physical contact that you were used to, no, he seemed to want as little as possible of that. This was all about the intercourse and nothing else, making you wonder if the other students he’d done this with had even enjoyed it, beyond getting off on the thrill that came with being fucked by a professor.
“I’ll make this quick, I know you’re not into me,” you heard Dazai say behind you, followed by the sound of his belt being unbuckled and his fly being opened. Fabric rustled, he pulled his pants and boxers down. Cool, slender fingers flipped your skirt up and tugged your panties down.
“I could tell from the moment I proposed this to you that you’re already someone else's,” your professor said and kicked your legs further apart with his foot. He leaned forward, his breath fanning against your ear when he whispered: “What would he say if he saw you right now, hm?”
Dazai’s cold fingers brushed over your folds, and you didn’t want to, you tried so hard to resist, but to no use, you could feel yourself getting wet as he collected some of your arousal.
“Would he be jealous?”
One cold finger slid into your pussy, and you gasped.
“Or would he perhaps…” he inserted another finger, “...not even care one bit?”
You froze, paralyzed. This man was sinister, and sadistic in every way, and he fooled this whole institution with a pretty face and a quick wit.
“No,” you whispered, tears beginning to brim in your eyes. “No, he loves me...”
“If he would, you’d be able to focus in class, darling,” Dazai scoffed and pulled his fingers out of you. He reached for a drawer in his desk and took out a condom, opening the package with his teeth. “You think I can’t spot a lovesick girl when I see one? 'I’m having a hard time at home' my ass.” Dazai slid the condom on and aligned the tip of his dick with your entrance. “Your guy loves someone else. Face it.”
With that, he pushed into you, in one go, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to muffle the sob that escaped you, but it wasn’t from the sharp pain that Dazai’s sudden thrust had caused you, but because of his words and the truth that they carried.
───────────────
“Ah-ah, wait a sec…”
*snap*
*snap*
Still bent over the desk, you squirmed when you heard the sound of Dazai’s phone camera taking a picture.
“What are you doing? Stop” you hissed and swatted his hand away, as he took several snapshots of your cunt.
“Just making sure this stays between you and me, sweetheart.” Your professor grinned at the screen as he swiped through his camera roll. “Pretty, huh?” 
He showed you a few of the photos, in all of them, you were seen in the same bent-over position, your hair a mess, your ass bruised with a red handprint, and smudged mascara on your cheeks. You were sore, as he hadn’t exactly been gentle with you, but your heart ached far more than your body did.
“You wouldn’t want anyone to see those, would you?”
“...no.”
“Good girl.” Dazai put his phone back into his pocket and handed you a tissue. “Clean yourself up. And hurry, my next class will be here in five minutes.”
You snatched the tissue from his hand and rubbed the smeared makeup off your face, once you’d pulled up your panties. Just in time, you fixed your disheveled appearance, before the first students came in through the door. Dazai looked as put together as before, nothing about his appearance gave away that he’d just fucked a freshman on his desk.
“See you in class,” your professor said nonchalantly as if nothing had happened. 
You nodded briefly and, without looking back, hurried out of the lecture hall and towards the school’s exit. Since this quickie had ensured that you were going to pass this semester no matter what (as Dazai had promised it, and you believed him, why else would he risk his job like this?), you felt zero guilt skipping the rest of your classes for today. You needed to be at home now, you needed Fyodor.
───────────────
Not long after, you stood in the kitchen at home and did the dishes you’d left in the sink earlier this morning, and Fyodor returned from work. 
He hung up his coat, took off his shoes, and tossed his keys onto the cupboard. Then, he joined you in the kitchen.
“Hey, princess…had a nice day at school today? 
Strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you against a warm chest. Fyodor pressed a kiss against your temple, humming quietly as he watched you scrub a plate.
“Hmm…it was okay,” you replied and leaned further into the comforting embrace. This felt heavenly. How you’d longed to be embraced by these arms for hours…
Of course, you felt like bursting into tears and confessing to Fyodor what had happened that day, but you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to argue about your reckless decision, or disappoint Fyodor because your grades were bad, nor did you want to admit to him that you’d cheated on him. Dazai’s hurtful words were stuck in your head, though you tried to ignore them. Your eyes stung and you felt a lump in your throat, but you pulled yourself together.
“What’s that smell on you?” Fyodor asked and sniffed your hair. 
“What smell?” you replied, and hoped that Fyodor hadn’t heard your voice crack.
“Men’s cologne. Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” he grinned conspiratorially.
Dazai’s cologne. Of course, Fyodor was going to smell it on you from this close.
“Of course not,” you laughed awkwardly. “We are packed like sardines in the lecture halls, so it must be the cologne of the guy who sat next to me.”
“I was only joking, my dear,” said Fyodor. “Besides, you know I wouldn’t mind if you were seeing other people. It’s a joy watching you grow up, and I guess dating is part of that.”
Don’t say this! You screamed internally. You should mind! We’re in love, aren’t we?
“I’m not seeing anyone. I have no interest in a boyfriend when I have you.”
Fyodor laughed at your pout and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “You’re so sweet. I’m so happy you’re my daughter. But it wouldn’t hurt you to go out more, you know? College is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, you’ll remember that time forever!”
I fucking hope I won’t, you thought, but instead of answering, you leaned up to kiss Fyodor’s jaw.
“Are you free tonight? I’ve got a new bath bomb we could try together…” you whispered suggestively. Your stepfather pulled back with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, sweetie, I can’t. It’s your mom’s and my anniversary today, and I was planning to take her out. Another time, okay?”
Right. The day of the year you always feared the most, followed by the annual flu shot. 
“Fine. As you wish.” You turned your attention back to the dishes in the sink, frantically scrubbing them.
“Come on, please don’t be mad at me, okay?”
“I’m not.”
“Darling…we need to properly plan our special time together if we don’t want to get caught one day, you know that. It’s hard to do that spontaneously. And while I’m having a lot of fun with you, and I love you to the moon and back, we are no couple, and we most definitely cannot act like one with others around the house.”
You felt your stomach twist. Dazai had been right, and your greatest worry had been confirmed. Your secret affair was nothing more than a little adventure to Fyodor, while it was the center of your life to you, and he was your great love, but to hear him say it out loud hurt differently.
“Have fun with Mom,” you grumbled and squirmed out of Fyodor’s embrace. You needed a plan, as soon as possible, for you weren’t sure for how much longer you would be able to take this agony.
───────────────
You had barely slept that night, partly because of your planning, and partly because Fyodor and your mother had been awfully noisy when they’d gotten back home from the restaurant, tipsy and giggly as they’d stumbled into their bedroom. As you were used to, they had hardly given you a choice but to listen to them having sex again. It was infuriating. 
Trying to come up with a plan took you a couple more days and sleepless nights, and although what you eventually came up with was cruel, you felt it was the only way that ensured you’d have a future with Fyodor, a future where your mother wasn’t his number one.
Fyodor wasn’t going to want to leave her, so she had to leave him.
You’d figured that, if you couldn't have him, no one should, especially not her.
The day you decided to go through with it, you weren't going to have any classes until noon, so, once Fyodor and your mother had wished you a nice day before they left for work, you hurried upstairs.
After a last moment of contemplation, you dug out a pair of brand new panties from your drawer– hot pink and lacy, and they did a very poor job at covering anything. 
Slutty and tasteless were the only fitting words to describe what they looked like.
You’d just bought the lingerie the other day, specifically for this occasion, which meant that your mother couldn’t possibly have seen them in the laundry yet, and identified them as yours.
Your heart was thumping like crazy when you entered your parents’ bedroom and placed them underneath Fyodor’s side of the bed. You took a step back to inspect the picture you’d created, then knelt before the bed again to adjust the undergarment’s position, so that one corner of the fabric peeked out from underneath the bed.
Today Fyodor was going to be home from work earlier, so technically, he had the perfect opportunity to invite his mistress over. Not like Fyodor had one, but what other conclusion could your mother draw when she’d return from a long day of work to find underwear that was neither hers nor her daughter’s, underneath their shared bed?
It wasn’t right to stab Fyodor in the back, but you had to frame him for something he didn’t do.
Confusion, shock, hysteria, divorce– that was the series of events you hoped to happen today, and all that you had to do now was heading off to school with a devilish grin, and later return home to find at least one of your problems solved. 
When they were done with one another, and you were going to stand by him, he would finally see who loved him the most and love you back just as much.
───────────────
The look on Fyodor’s face made you pity him when you returned home to find the exact scene you’d hoped to play out. He looked so hurt, so desperate to save his marriage that it made your heart flutter. 
What a man, you thought. The kind you don’t get over. And it was your mother’s loss that she was unable to see that.
Her voice was raised in fury and rang through the whole house, as she aggressively flailed around her arms, yelling at Fyodor and holding your lacy panties in one hand. 
Her poor husband tried to pacify her, stammering as he promised over and over again that he had no idea whose underwear that was, and that he had no idea how they’d gotten under the bed. 
On any other day, you would have interrupted the fight to defend Fyodor, but as sorry as you were for him that the woman he loved was slipping through his fingers, and that the upcoming breakup would catapult him into deep grief, this was necessary to ensure that he was going to be able to spend the rest of his life with the one who truly deserved him. He simply needed a little push to understand that.
Quietly, you walked past the living room and smiled as you went to your room. When the time would come, you would make sure that your beloved stepfather had someone to lean on to cope with the loss and eventually find love again, and god knows you were going to be that someone…
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incognit0slut · 11 months
Text
Right Kind of Wrong (6)
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She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Part summary: she is taken aback as the student becomes the master. wc: 4,3k
Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content (this part includes masturbation, forced orgasm, a little squirting, female and male oral), graphic details of murder
a/n: SMUT ALERT! If you like sexy stuff then you can just read this, but reading previous parts is better for context :)
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
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SPENCER HAD WITNESSED MANY THINGS THAT LEFT HIM IN A STATE OF WONDER. Certain books or poetry. Certain buildings, art, or places. Specific moments that left him in an overwhelming sense of awe. But no amount of experience could prepare him for the view right at this moment. It felt as if he wasn't worthy enough to marvel this splendor sight of a woman.
Was comparing her to a masterpiece of fine art too excessive? Although he couldn't help it, with the way she was sprawled along the couch with knees spread apart, she seemed to be all source of beauty and perfection. His eyes trailed across her glorious body; adorning every curve, every line, and every inch of her skin.
His body ached to touch her, to feel her hot skin underneath his fingertips, yet he wouldn’t dare himself to reach out. This was her moment, he realized. She was laid out in front of him on her own accord, wearing nothing but a coy smile and a certain spark in her eye. Who was he to interrupt a woman basking in her sensuality?
"So, is this some kind of a lesson?" He slowly asked after a moment, his tone provocative and full of meaning as he paused and licked his lips. "If you must know, I'm a very fast learner."
Her eyes were focused on his mouth, those plump lips now glistening slightly from where his tongue had just wet them. "A lesson, a show... you can think of it as anything you want." Then a taunting smile played on her lips. "I only need you to pay attention."
His gaze swept over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the slickness glistening from her core made every part of him swell. "You've had my full attention ever since I saw you that night. You're all I think about."
She felt herself crumbling at his confession. Her heart hammered against her chest, the charge behind his words spreading warmth throughout her body that had nothing to do with her arousal. "Don't say things like that, Dr. Reid."
"Why?"
Because I think I could fall for you.
She swallowed the thought away and focused her attention on this moment. Sex. That was what she should be thinking of, not the way her mind was going into a spiral of admiration that had nothing to do with physical attraction. Nothing else should matter when the man sitting a few feet away from her was looking at her as if she was his favorite meal.
"On second thought," she decided to say, her fingers slowly moving across her thigh. "Words are good."
When he didn't respond, she continued, her hand slipping between her legs. "Words can be an additional sense to stimulate the brain that goes beyond—" Her fingers softly pressed onto her clit. "—touch."
"That... is true," he softly agreed, his breathing more shallow as he watched her fingers moving in a circle motion. "The brain is the most receptive erogenous zones in the human body."
"Exactly. Now tell me what you're thinking."
There wasn't a moment of hesitation as he answered, "How beautiful you are."
She couldn't help the genuine smile forming in her mouth. "What else?”
She really was a sight. Chemicals suddenly flood his system, making his head pound and chest restrict, his blood entirely redirecting south. He gulped as she quickened the pace on her clit. "How I want to be the one touching you right now."
"Yeah?" She readjusted her position to spread her legs wider, wanting to give him a better look at her glistening flesh. "Tell me how you would touch me."
He could feel his body tightening with arousal. "With my hand."
She bit on her bottom lip, trying to hold her amused laughter. "I think that's already a given." Then she gently sped up the motion of her fingers, her voice coming out breathless as she whispered, "You can do better than that, Spencer."
There was an intense warmth that spread along his body. Hearing her call out his name as she pleasured herself gave him a certain control of the situation. It honestly felt exhilarating to be the reason of her arousal. He was the one she wanted. He was the one to have the privilege to behold her whimpering in desperation.
He then leaned forward, a new sense of power in his voice. "I want to run my hands all over you. I want to taste you." She hummed a response, eyes locking with his. "I want to see you writhing as I map your body with my tongue."
He noticed how receptive she became to his words, her body squirming as her fingers pressed onto her clit harder. He took it as an encouragement and kept on going.
"I want to put my head between your thighs. I want to be the one sucking on all that wetness." His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as his gaze traveled down the slickness dripping between her legs. "Look at how soaking wet you are, taking pleasure in my voice as you desperately play with yourself."
Y/n believed Spencer was a smart man. She also believed it when he said he was a fast learner, yet actually hearing his erotic suggestion while he watched her so earnestly drove her over the edge. Her other hand slid across her breast, pinching her aroused nipple as she continued the erratic movement of her fingers. Her eyelids dropped at the sensation traveling through her body.
"I want to make you feel good until you can't breathe," she heard him say, his voice growing more strained. "Until you can't see, until you can't think of anything else but the overwhelming pleasure I will give to you."
She whimpered out a desperate sigh. The snarl of pleasure that tore itself from his throat at her desperation was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. This glorious feeling of knowing she craved him, that she needed him as badly as he did was indescribable it gave him more power.
"I want to ruin you in the best way possible."
She inhaled sharply, time standing still for a moment. Her eyes then snapped open, landing on him splaying his hands over his knees. Her insides wrenched. Her chest was heaving as her fingers slowed down while she tried to register the refined yet filthy words coming out of his mouth. "Well, aren't you quite the poet."
She saw him shrug his shoulders with a bashful smile curling on his lips. "I read a lot."
A breathless laugh escaped her mouth. "Of course you do."
Then her eyes skimmed across his face, noticing the way his eyes glazed over her. His gaze was a slow pull, a gentle tug at the edge of her consciousness. It was evident in the way her body responded, her core alight with the fire he had been patiently building, throwing more fuel over it with each second that passed.
"You're so pretty," he gently spoke, raking his eyes along the span of her exposed body. Then he couldn't help himself as the next words slipped out of his mouth without much thought, "Put a finger inside yourself."
She tensed for a slight moment before she relaxed. "Giving me orders now?"
"I want to see how tight you are."
Her breath hitched at his words. There was a moment of silence as she slipped a finger into her entrance, her body quivering at the pressure. She moved it slowly, feeling the slickness of her walls clenching around her finger that she let out a moan.
"Add another finger. I know you can take it," he ordered, almost drooling at the sight in front of him. His gaze roamed her flesh, drinking in her naked body, the line of her neck, the peak of her breasts, the flare of her hips, the way she writhed with the pressure of her fingers, and her moan—god, the noises she made. It grew louder as he told her to go faster, her body quivering when he remarked that she was not fast enough.
"You can do better than that, Y/n."
She let out a loud gasp at the sound of her name, her back arching away from the couch, her eyes instantly locking with his. She felt so light-headed, so hot, so unbelievably wet. She started to come aware of everything. The feeling of her fingers digging into her soft flesh, continuously swirling against her heat, and the way his eyes soaked in her every movement. She could feel the weight of his stare and it was enough to throw her over the edge, her fingers moving at a quicker pace.
"Are you close?"
"Yes," she confirmed, her legs beginning to burn as she felt herself getting closer to the steady rhythm she had created with herself. Small whimpers slipped through her lips as she felt the familiar sensation tightening in the pit of her stomach, her mind already losing focus of her surroundings.
"Stop touching yourself."
His sudden voice pulled her back to reality, eyes narrowing in his direction. Somehow she managed to halt her movement as she watched him slowly rise from his seat, striding across the room with leisured yet determined steps. Then he positioned himself right in front of her, standing above her so that she had to tilt her head upward to see his face.
"I'm a man of my word." He slowly lowered himself, dropping down to his knees. A slow, sinful smile snuck its way along his lips as his hand grazed the satin span of her thigh. "I do want to ruin you."
She made a little noise, halfway between a sigh and a moan as a long finger brushed featherlight over her sex. Her fingers slowly slipped away as her eyes trained on him, watching the way he carefully slid a finger between her wetness, feeling his callused pad swipe along her slick folds. And when she thought she couldn't get more aroused than this, he proved her wrong by closing the distance, his mouth wrapped around her throbbing clit.
He grunted in delight as her slickness dampened his jaw.
"You taste so sweet," he murmured, and she felt the warm gust of his exhale into her heat. It made her walls flex just as his tongue dived inside her. She leaned back and writhed as he eagerly licked between her slit, wrapping his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her sweet spot and sucked every inch of her like a man starved.
She closed her eyes, her fingers tangling in his thick, untamed hair as she felt another wave of pleasure hit her. His tongue was pressed flat up against her, lapping at her eagerly before moving to twirl around her clit deliciously. She could feel her high approaching, thighs already trembling and he found that to be the perfect time to pull her in closer by the thighs, wrapping his arms securely around them to bring her core closer to his face.
Feeling her body shake, he wasted no time, tongue furiously licking against her and sliding the muscle in and out easily. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls. It didn't take long for her to moan out his name as the sensation struck her body, his hands firmly supported her convulsing body over his tongue to help ride out her high.
She pulled onto his hair with both of her hands, moving her hips against his face as he continued to groan and lick her through her climax. Utterly dazed and covered in a sheen of sweat with a pleasant tingling sensation traveling throughout her body, she watched as he slowly straightened himself, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her into a sitting position.
Then he didn't wait anymore longer as he buried his face in her chest, mouth circling onto her hard nipple. Shoulders tensing, she grabbed a handful of his hair. His tongue was lapping eagerly while his hands roamed her breasts greedily, trying to grab as much of her as he possibly could.
She was dizzy with feverish need, pulling him closer to her chest, getting herself drunk on the caresses against her skin. It wasn't until she felt fingers sliding into her pulsing, sensitive heat that she let out a desperate moan, louder than she intended to.
"Spencer," she whimpered, her body starting to shake again. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you pleasure," he murmured against her skin. Then he proceeded to prove his words by thrusting his fingers steadily into her while his thumb rubbed onto her clit. Her hips buckled while her hand fumbled everywhere in search of something to hold before gripping it along his wrist, a familiar yet stronger sensation pushing through her body for the second time.
This high was fast. It was consuming her so much that she could already feel the coil in her stomach, her mind going blank. She arched her back, instinctively shoving away a bit from him, but he moved closer, rocking his fingers in and out of her body at a more rapid pace, almost violently.
"That's it, I got you," he growled in a rich, rounded tone, slamming his fingers into her. "You can take it."
The pleasure suddenly exploded inside of her, sending her over the edge as she cried louder than before, the sensation sweeping her up into orgasmic bliss and leaving her panting heavily. The feeling was all-consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. She let out a sob as he eased her through it, kissing her breasts while her thighs shook around his arm.
Her breathing slowed as she came back down to reality and she reached out her hand for him. There was a coy smile on his lips as he sat beside her, pulling her body into his arms as he gently hooked a hand under one of her legs, placing it on top of his thighs.
She might not be as smart as he was, but she could tell exactly what he had in mind.
"Spencer," she hissed, throwing him a pointed look. But her protest trembled as he gently kissed the corner of her lips, traveling along her jawline before he buried his head in the crook of her neck.
"I think you can give me another one."
A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth as she felt him thrusting two fingers inside her swollen flesh. There was no mercy in his sudden movement this time, curling his digits inside her vigorously, the sensation had her legs shaking all over again. She could hear how drenched she was, the slick sound of him driving into her echoed around the room, followed by a harsh, loud sob ripping through her throat.
The heel of his palm pressed against her clit as he continued to curl his fingers inside her. Her thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away from the overwhelming sensation. Her body was already shaking from the sheer number of times of pleasure, unsure that she could take much more.
"I-I can't—" She begged him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away but instead the vibrations began to ripple throughout her body. Her eyes rolled back as her mouth dropped open, no longer able to speak as a loud squeal left her lips, the sound distorted by the pleasure surging through her body. “P-Please. I can’t.”
"One more—just one last time."
She cried out and huffed breaths in her nose as his fingers curled and started to rock almost violently forward, swinging hard against a spot deep inside her. Her eyes went wide, feeling something entirely new, like nothing she had ever experienced before. "I-I can't, it's too much—fuck."
"That's it. Such a good girl." He growled, panting with exertion, using the strength of his whole arm to push in and out at a blistering speed. "You look so pretty like this."
"I-I'm going to make a mess—" A panic cry left her mouth, her whole body tensing. Her grip tightened around his forearm, reveling in the flex of his tendons as he rocked his fingers inside her violently.
"Then make a mess." He kissed the side of her neck. "Come on, make a mess for me."
He was forcing out filthy, squelching noises from her body and all she could do was lean into him, wordlessly panting needy noises. Then his thumb circled around her clit, pushing it up into her body so harshly she was gripping onto his arm for dear life. She couldn't take it anymore, her body shaking as the intensity rippled along her core.
And then it suddenly came to her—so intense, so violent, sweeping her away as she almost blacked out at the force of pleasure. She could hear his distinctive voice, triumphant, then turning into lavish praise as she screamed, focusing on a sudden pressure in her gut before a strong gush of liquid surged from her body. He watched her tremble and held her close to him as she screamed out his name, his fingers continuously circling her clit roughly.
Y/n had never felt a pleasure so intense until now. Her body was spasming, her legs were shaking, and her eyes were closed shut. She held onto him desperately and felt his heart beating under her palm as he kissed the side of her head, gently muttering praises as he helped her ride out the tide of pleasure convulsing in her blood. And when every drip of liquid escaped her body, she finally let out a sigh, her head falling against his shoulder.
The silence was calm after the wave, but his voice slowly filled her head with a hint of triumph. "So, did I do well?"
She was tired; utterly, delightfully tired. But she wasn't in the place to hear him gloat. Her eyes slightly trained on him, and hating the smug look on his face, she slowly turned her body towards him. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling as she pressed her lips on his cheek, softly, barely even touching it, before she trailed her lips down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.
"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as she felt his grip on her hip. "What are you doing?"
"Just reciprocating your words." She then opened her mouth, her tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I want to ruin you too."
Her parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as she softly sucked on the spot below his ear. He let out a soft whimper, melting into her touch. What was it about neck kisses that made them feel so good? Was it the tingles that ran down his spine through to the soles of his feet with every kiss? Was it the feeling of intimacy clouding his thoughts?
Y/n wasn't even fully recovered from the pleasure still strumming in her system but she found herself reaching over, sinking onto her knees in front of him. His eyes went wide momentarily. Realization hit him as he understood what she wanted, what she wanted to do to him, his eyes studying the determined look on her face.
"A-Are you sure?" He asked carefully, sliding a hand into her hair. "Because if you change your mind, I'm more than fine."
She dragged her eyes up to his body, lingering for a few seconds on the vest he was still clad in and caressing the blush dipping along his neck before settling on his face. "I think it's only fair. Besides," she muttered, giving him a sly smile, looking into the passion brimming in his eyes. "I really want to suck you."
He grunted at her words, leaning onto the couch as he watched her. She wanted to bask in the warmth of his gaze, the utter devotion in his eyes as she settled between his thighs. She leaned closer, raking her nails over the contours of his legs, the material of his pants rippling under her fingers.
Biting her lip, she slid one hand over his bulge. He let out a sharp breath, desperately whispering her name as she unbuttoned the belt around his waist. Her movements were slow, lingering the anticipation in his tensed muscles. And after fumbling with his belt, he finally helped her, pulling himself out of the confinement of his pants.
She sighed in satisfaction. God, he was beautiful. He was thick and solid, warm and long with a slight curve. Veins dance along his length and she traced a finger up to the flared head, before dipping her head, her lips following. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored and her head completely emptied as she leaned in and licked it up.
He grunted weakly, out of amusement or desire, she didn't know—maybe both. Humming, she wrapped one hand around him and stroked him slowly. A pause settled between them before she finally took him fully in her mouth. He was all salt-tinged mixed with something undeniably him, his taste bursting on her tongue. She kept swallowing him down, her jaw stretching wide as she struggled to get every inch of him inside her, wrapping her hand around what was left.
"Y/n," he groaned between ragged breaths as her mouth wrapped around the girth of his thickness. He had his hand buried deep in her hair, holding it up in his grip when she tightened her hold on him, squeezing him gently. The added stimulation made his eyes roll back, a masculine sound of pleasure resounding in his throat. "You're unbelievable."
The compliment and the urgency in his voice made her wonder how much she was able to make him lose control. She swirled her tongue around him, swallowing him back down as she give him a rough, firm pump. She hollowed her cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across her tongue and he hit the back of her throat. The vibrations traveled down, shooting through his veins and he almost came apart right there.
"Shit," he rasped out, tugging on her hair as his hips jerked up, and she gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "You're taking me so well."
She couldn't stop the proud smile forming on her face. She was the one who made him lose control—the one who could awaken the dumbstruck look in his eyes. Her mouth enclosed around him again and she repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with her tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until she had every inch of him in her mouth. He took her head in a tender hold and slammed her face down, his hips flexing to meet her.
The low wet sounds of her gagging meld with his gravelly broken moans were so erotic. She glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as she moved her head in a rapid motion. He panted another hoarse sigh out, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air, hips jolting upward.
"I can't hold any longer," he whispered hoarsely.
He was on the edge of his release, she could feel him pulsing in her mouth. The mixture of intimacy and pleasure overwhelmed his body, and instead of pulling away, she only grew more aggressive in her attempt, sucking harder and tongue pressing firmer. Her efforts were rewarded by the hot ropes of liquid hitting her throat. His head was starting to spin, stars danced behind his eyes as he felt her swallow everything he had to give, save for the small dribble past her lips as she unraveled her mouth around his shaft.
She smiled up at him, enjoying the way he was leaning back after his bliss, and despite how heavy his body felt, he used a thumb to wipe away the line of liquid on her mouth. "I think we both are very much ruined."
She let him pull her up, settling himself on top of his thighs. His wide hands engulfed her face before he brought her down to him, capturing her lips in a soft, searing kiss. He kissed her with every ounce of power he had. Kissed her as he had daydreamed about so many times. He kissed her as he had never kissed anyone before, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt right.
Then he pulled away, yet kept his hold on her. She carefully resigned herself, feeling completely in the moment with him, her eyes lost in his lingering gaze as she scanned over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room and angle, but she could still see the softness of them.
He suddenly reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The unexpected action had her freeze above him. It awfully felt too intimate, but on the other hand, it felt... somewhat peaceful. Calming. Serene.
And at that moment, she suddenly became aware of their surroundings, of what had took place. The way she was naked and perched on his lap. The way he was mostly fully clothed. The way they were trying to catch their breath.
Then her knee grazed against the deadly weapon still attached to his hip and she jerked, becoming aware of who he was, who she was supposed to be. This unexpected turn of events was already a slight curve in the dynamic between an authority and somebody who was involved in a case.
An unsettling feeling suddenly weighed in her gut as she studied his face, pushing and pulling her consciousness as if she was stepping into a pit of regret… into something that was unforeseeable—into something that wasn't going to end well.
>> NEXT PART
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