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xiaowhore · 8 months

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hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x you

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kairospy · 16 days

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TSC SPOILERS • overall

A list of things I’m still thinking about 2 days later

Jeremy and how he fully avoids his every issue and doesn’t acknowledge them, even to himself. We know nothing about this man.

Cat and Laila.

CAT HAS A BIKE

Cat being nicknamed Cat

Jean simping for every character but Neil (canonically stunning) only gets “cockroach” and “vicious”

Kevin keeping depressed guys alive one promise at a time

Candy drawer. Cheese shelf

Neil never mentioning any of the rumours about Jean in aftg

Jeremy baby wtf happened at the banquet. Who’s your brother. Why would a cop recognise you. Who’s your dad. Why does your sister hate you. What do you mean you ‘chose Exy’.

“As if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day.”

Wymack dialling the the Dad Vibes up to 100

Realising Neil has a lot more of Nathaniel in him than he lets on in his pov

“They’re American” “Hey” “You barely count”

“That’s illegal, just so you know.”

Jean mourning every “what if” with Neil

The girls giving Jean forehead kisses.

Jeremy being disappointed if not slightly jealous when he thought Jean was dating Renee but pushed down those thoughts because “it wouldn’t be fair”.

Jeremy absolutely thirsting after Jean to the point where Cat had to tell him to “tighten those screws before getting on that ride”…. I’m stopping my thoughts here before it gets nsfw

Neil pulling up, killing a guy, walking the FBI around like dogs because he found it amusing, making a trained cop feel guilty for him (a criminal), making up the best alibi and lie on the spot (even Jean was impressed), finding his way back to the ATM no problem despite never having been in the city before (Jean was getting lost).

Neil being a “safe line to follow home” for Jean

Confirmation that Kevin was also severely physically abused prior to having his hand broken

There’s more. I’ll keep adding.

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #tsc #the sunshine court #all for the game trilogy #jeremy knox #jean moreau #jerejean #laila dermott #catalina alvarez #neil josten #kevin day #renee walker #aftg trilogy

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jaysgirlx · 3 months

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Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.

Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.

Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.

Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.

Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.

Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.

Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.

Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…

Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.

Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.

Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"

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i-cant-sing · 11 months

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What are your thoughts on the yandere haikyuu teams x their manager?

Boring. I need some spice in it. How about-

Yandere Daichi as a cop and his darling is a civilian and now he's so obsessed with her that he murders her husband, frames him as a criminal and will literally stop at nothing to get darling in his arms because again... who will suspect good old, everybody's best bud COP Daichi to be able to do heinous crimes???

Yandere Sugawara as a psychiatrist because come on- he gives major "master manipulator" vibes and now he's obsessed with his darling patient and will continue to do malpractice and gaslight her and prescribe her all the wrong meds until she loses it and he gets to admit it her under his "special care" and now he can play with her mind all day long🤍

Yandere Oikawa is now a pro volleyball athlete and he just saw Ushijima's little sis, the same one he used to bully and even rejected (and ofc, HUMILIATED) when she confessed to him back in highschool. But now Oikawa's obsessed with her and also still hates his nemesis Ushijima, so what's better than killing two birds with one stone??? And Oikawa still has a very devoted fanclub, only now it's larger and more powerful than ever so now he uses them and his socials to peer pressure you into dating him and eventually, marrying him because he ain't getting any younger honey and he needs some cute babies out of you ASAP.

Yandere Kuroo who is the smart IT tech guy at your office but in reality, he has his own cyber security company that he uses to spy on you, controls your entire life through your socials and don't even get me started on your online banking shit. If its any consolation, he's very rich so... yeah. He may not look like a million bucks, but he does have them. In several offshore accounts.

Yandere Kita who somehow ended up as a mafia leader, probably inherited it as family business and he has like severe OCD so he wants everything done to perfection or so help you, you will 1000% end up 6 feet under. Mafia Kita who has this vision of you being the perfect wife, solely based om the one time you offered him your handkerchiefs because he had a nosebleed from stressing too much and now Kita thinks you're an absolute angel and he wont let you destroy that fantasy of his. Seriously. He will pick out your outfits, tell you how to act and all, punish you if he must, but he does love you.

Yandere Ushijima who is a farmer and has decided that the reader whose car broke down and came to his door asking for help, will now be his wife and be a countryside mom to many kids (u can't say no, okay? He wants a big family) and animals! But hey, he's a very caring husband and will massage your feet, give you baths and feed you his homegrown veggies and meals daily once you are round with his babies🥺

Yandere Bokuto who is now a popular politician and he needs an obedient wife to keep up appearances and play the "family man" image up. So he decides to threaten reader who had a one night stand with him, and Bokuto somehow has very intimate images and videos of you and he uses them to get you to marry him. And now he controls every aspect of your life and tells you to do exactly as he says, and he abuses this privilege more as he gets more powerful and you could only imagine the horrors he would inflict on you if he does actually win elections, but you can't run away because again- he has eyes and contacts everywhere.

#yandere daichi #yandere daichi sawamura #yandere bokuto #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima #yandere kuroo #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere kita #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyu x reader #yandere sugawara

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thechekhov · 3 months

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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH36

Time find out just how fucked up Toshiro got.

Hey Kabru. Chill.

That sure is a normal look to give your team mate. I'm sure you're a normal, well adjusted leader who understands when you step out of bounds.

Bold of you to assume they even care. They're too caught up in the plot of the second arc to even remember you...

So much to question here. The fact that Toshiro has retainers. The fact that they're all mildly bored. The fact that Marcille seems to hate it here. Marcille, hello??? Are you only interested in Falin? Do you just hate people that aren't her?

The fact that she's still wearing the frog costume makes this panel, honestly. What a legend.

This is so wholesome. Laios just decided to therapy this workaholic man all on his own, dangit. If he won't do it, who will? Senshi must be so proud.

Hang on, I just realized--.....is that.

Is that the cat girl...?!!? That I've been seeing? I thought it was just a hat at first, but those are ears, aren't they?! Is she the one that eventually joins the party?

Marcille, you're a beautiful frog woman to me.

If I didn't know that Chillchuck is a dad already, I would have known it at this point. What a thing to say. "oh no, which one of these kids grown men is going to cause more trouble if left unattended"

I'm sure that's fine.

...........

But when you put it that way, it seems a little.... simple?

Kabru is beginning to suspect he's in the wrong class.

"Ah yes, a little freak that scuttles around from paintings to reality and speaks in archaic and mysterious tones. GOTTA be a Sorcerer. And hella mad, too!"

The math checks out, your honor.

Her best, Karbohydrate. She did her best.

Oh Laios, you're a hoot.

Kabru, you literally said Laios is a terrible liar three seconds ago. Maybe be a little less obvious? 😂

...you've done this to yourself, mate.

Okay, you know what. I take it back. I still don't like Kabru but watching him suffer IS supremely entertaining.

Okay, I can see how he might jump to the wrong conclusions here. They did not, in fact, eat the orcs.....

Orcs are duty bound to slap ya upside the head.

I love how genuinely patient Senshi is, and how good he is at listening. Chillchuck was worried but he's just vibing with new friends.

I'm sure they're having a grand old time.

What do those ears do, hmmm?

I enjoy the fact that he says "they're all treated as heinous criminals" instead of passing moral judgement and saying 'they're beyond reproach' or the like. He knows the consequences, and remarks not at all on whether or not he agrees with the judgement itself.

I could also draw some parallels here about how Japan treats all drugs but. Well. That's another topic.

Oh, noooo. As opposed to that other way of dying, where your corpse is dragged about in a carnival fashion after you die, to dry up in the light of day forever after.

Oh wait.

This bitch is really only here for the drama. 😅

FALIN?!?!?!?! MY GIRL

WHY THE LONG......body...?

....................cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. Alright. Okay okay okay. Alright.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #chekhov reads dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi liveblog

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rinbowaman · 6 months

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THE BUTLER

Warnings: Unprotected smut, slight voyeurism, secret smut, secret love, heart break, Y/N is a rich girl, not at all spoiled, slight Cinderella vibes, stepmom and sisters, they don't really like y/n, and death. MDNI content is for 18+ only.

Something for you guys as I finish the last chapter of DT. I started this a while ago but finally decided to finish it, as you can see, I was inspired by the release of "Criminal Love" so enjoy. I enjoyed this piece quite a bit. Part of this is proofread, so sorry if the ending of it seems a little sloppy.

“Oh! She’s here sir!”

The house nanny calls out, informing your father of your expectant arrival. Your mother and stepfather told you that this was a great opportunity to travel overseas, leave home, and expand your horizons as a prospective student. And lucky for you, your father’s work as the country’s Ambassador afforded you said opportunity, and you wish you could be just as excited about it as everyone else. Truth of the matter was, it devastated you to leave.

Of course, growing up in a proper household, one with many manners and strict etiquettes in place, only meant that naturally, you were groomed to put on a mask to conceal your true emotions, among other things.

You loved your family, and respected your father dearly, even when only seeing him every summer. Yet there was something back at home that caused this change of pace; something that you knew you had to get away from, even at the cost of your goals and happiness.

It was hard for anyone to understand, since you and your former companion had only known each other for a year. To others, it appeared only as a fling, a swift love that left as fast as it came, but for you, it was a whole other matter. Unbeknownst to everyone around you, promises of a tight future we’re made, all initiated by him. He told you he loved you, cherished you, and that you both would be together forever. So was it a surprise to you, or him, that you fell into the abyss of depression and had clammed up after he exposed how he didn’t think much of your relationship; that it was just something to look back on, as “experience” for real love.

“Real love?….”

How could he use those words put together? How dare he? After all the times that you gave up to be with him; the sacrifices you made, and not to mention, the countless hours you made up to maintain your grades while still being there for him whenever he needed you. Such as the time when he lost a beloved family member, and you were the only one there to console him. One thing led to another and in a blink of an eye, you were no longer a virgin. You never minded, after all, he did tell you that he saw a future with you as his wife, and you responded each time by giving him your flesh and sweat….you did all of that, yet he didn’t see it as real love.

Your mother and stepfather could never know the degree of your breakdown. How could they? They probably suspected it, but never confirmed that you lost your virginity to the man. After he told you that he no longer wanted you, he moved on to another girl, one that you used to call ‘friend’. How despicable. Guess that was college life for you, though you would have never braced for something so heartbreaking to happen, even at a prestigious university.

After all that, you stopped talking and dropped all of your classes. You fell lower than ever before, and perhaps your mothers words, “It's not a big deal, he’s not worth it. You’ve only known him for a year, forget about him.” Was said, only to try and bring you back from the ground you found yourself graveling on. You know your mother better than anyone else, she loved you more than the world and would do, and say, anything to bring you back to a sound mental state of mind. She always did before, only this time….it didn’t work.

That’s when the idea of sending you to live at your fathers estate came to discussion. Your father was a very noble man, not in a literal sense of course; the man had built himself up from nothing, growing up from such a poor family. Through his elaborate military career and his continued service in politics, he earned his lavish lifestyle. The driver opens the door and gives you a hand, helping you out of the backseat as you are immediately greeted by the house nanny, and your father following suit.

“Papa!”

“There’s my girl! Come here, it’s been too long since I last saw you. Look at you, just as pretty as always.”

Holding you in a warm embrace, you felt free from the pain of heartbreak as you hugged your father; you missed him so much and it was always good to see him. Aside from being with him, his estate was something that you always cherished. He had acres of land, manicured with a few guest homes on the property. There were large floral gardens and orchards that decorated the entire estate with the main house stationed at the center of the acreage. Maybe coming to live here for a while wasn’t such a bad idea after all. And who knows, if you had ever found a reason to go back, you could always get up and go ... .just as much as you could settle down and stay, so long as you had found meaning behind that decision.

During your embrace, you caught the eye of the trio that made their way over, though they seemed less excited in greeting you.

“Well, you could have called when you were nearby. We were just about to have lunch. It would have been embarrassing to begin eating and to take a pause because of your arrival.”

When it came to your father, mother, and stepfather, they were all a delight and you couldn’t have asked for better parents. However, when it came to your stepmother, that was an entirely different story. Of course, your fathers marriage to her wouldn’t be complete without your two stepsisters…

“Oh my gosh! Look at her hair! See mom! I want my extensions to be as long as her hair, the same length.”

“Y/n, where did you get your outfit? It’s so pretty, I want one just like it but in pink. Don’t I look good in pink?”

Your father takes a moment to jest, yet you had a feeling by the tone he took with your stepmom and sisters, that he was more on the serious side at hinting on their lack of manners. The ‘joke’ was him remaining tactful, as always.

“Well, usually it’s customary to say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you?’ whenever you’re greeting family, but I guess talking about lunch, hair, and outfits is just as welcoming.”

Looking up at your father, he gives you a small wink before placing a kiss on your head, much to the obvious dismay of your stepmom. “I was only trying to point out that it would have been more considerate of her to call, that’s all. But, I guess you do have a point.”

Your stepmom quickly took the hint, and rendered obedience in her own manner, before ushering the girls to come up and greet you properly. Pushing boundaries with your father is never a smart idea, for anyone. The man was rich, had close connections with the government, and didn’t feel the ‘need’ to have a wife as much as he merely enjoyed having one for companionship. Your stepmom knew that, just needed a reminder from time to time that he would drop her quickly, along with your stepsisters. You’re not entirely sure what had gone wrong, you never did anything to your stepmom nor did you ever go out of your way to offend her. Yet somehow, she acted somewhat distasteful to you. As for your stepsiblings, it wasn’t quite their fault. They were spoiled, had everything beyond the world given to them, and only acted out based on the initiative of their mother. Nevertheless, you were always pleasant and did your best to make them feel welcomed. You even gave up your room, the largest suite of the household, all to accommodate their ‘needs’ shortly after your father married and brought them in. Since you previously had only come for long visits in the summer during your college breaks, it wasn’t a huge deal to give up your room, or your favorite guesthouse, which was once your getaway for whenever you wanted to paint and do pottery. What was once your soaring heaven had now become a playhouse for the girls…to depreciate and throw their large parties for whenever they wanted to have their friends over. Guess that is what it means to be the elder and the matured one out of the brunch.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you fed. I imagine you’re tired and hungry from that long flight, did you have any trouble finding Bitterman?”

“No Sir, I found her with no trouble. It’s quite easy to find a girl as pretty as her.” Bitterman, your fathers driver, chimes in, earning a chuckle from the latter. “Thank you my friend, be sure to get yourself fed as well, Louis has the kitchen smelling delightful.”

Your father was always admired and loved by the staff, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He wasn’t just wise, rational, and a thoughtful type, he was also benevolent and selfless. Indeed, he was just as good of a master as he was a father and husband.

“Oh, Bitterman, no need to get the bags, I’ll get them.” Your father exclaims as he goes to pick up one of your luggage. “Oh um….I can get that Papa, it’s actually kind of heavy—“

You were cut off when a shadowed figure appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of the leather strap, just before your father completed his reach for it. “I got it sir, please allow me.”

The tall figure was dressed in a black suit with a fitted designer trench coat to match, paired with fine leather gloves; the right one being fingerless. His hair was swiftly combed to the side, with a few pieces dangling above his eye and brow, yet it only enhanced his suave appeal. There was a slight bit of royal purple hue to his strands, yet it was tasteful and neat. He effortlessly picks up the luggage and swings it over a shoulder, and picks up another large carry-on before making his way inside the house. “The Nénuphar suite, correct?”

“Yes, thank you Ethan.”

Confused, you looked at your father as he took note that you hadn’t been properly introduced to his newly acquired staff member. “Oh! Ethan, this is y/n.” Turning back to you, your father completed the introduction as he took your hand and guided you closer to the mysterious man in black. “Y/n, this is Ethan. I’ve told him all about your arrival and if you need anything in my absence, come to him. He is the head of my household staff and is my personal butler, second to no one, except myself.”

“B-butler?” You were caught off guard at the label, the man did not carry the appearance of a butler. That was when your father somewhat clarified. “Well, butler in an abstruse sense. All you need to know is that he is my right hand man. So if you ever need anything, come to me or Ethan.”

‘Abstruse? What is that supposed to mean—‘

“It’s nice to meet you y/n.”

“Oh…it's nice to meet you too. Thank you...for taking my bags, I can get the rest of them.”

“No need, I’ll have it taken care of.” Turning his head to the side, he raises a hand and snaps his fingers. Upon the crisp sound echoing among the grand entrance of the estate, a series of maids and butlers come in and grab the remaining of your belongings. You raised a brow before peaking a questionable gaze at your father, in which he replied with…

“I told you, he is my right hand man.”

…………………………..

The next morning, you awoke in your beautifully furnished room. After carrying out your hygiene routine and dressing yourself, you walk down the lengthy staircase to find the girls at the base, dressed primply with jewels and broaches decorating their hair and outfits.

“I want to re-do my nails.”

“You just got yours done yesterday, it’s been three days since I got mine. I want to add more jewels.”

“I want more flowers.”

“I wanted them with a sharper point.”

“I wanted them longer.”

Walking through the foyer, Ethan takes stride with his hands clasped behind his back, as if he was taking a walk of leisure. Breaching the girls, they immediately dropped their topic of nail decor and called out to the handsome butler. “Oh Ethan!” One of the girls calls out. “I just got this dress yesterday, what do you think? Do you like it? Doesn’t pink look good on me?”

Ethan gave a faint, side smirk as he paused in his steps. His hands remained behind his stature as he stood comfortably, not responding. Your other sister butts in, trying to vye for the man’s attention as she shows off her manicure. Again, he remained silent, yet the girls seemed to be used to it.

“Oh, trying to be silent like always?”

“That’s so hot.”

“Come on, won’t you say anything about my outfit for once?”

“Or my nails?”

Pouting their faces rather flirtatiously, the girls flutter their lashes as they bite their lip, only to get nothing out of the man. You continued walking down during the entire entourage and once you reached the base, Ethan’s eyes sparked up. He glanced up and beyond their heads, watching as you made your way down. You pause as your sisters remained standing on the last step, seemingly oblivious to what the man was staring at.

“Ah, young lady, you’re just in time. Your dad wanted to see you first thing this morning.”

Extending his hand and shooting it between your sisters, the girls part ways as they watch you take Ethan’s hand as he guides you down the last step of the staircase. “I’ll take you to his study.” You felt his fingers subtly pinch your hand as he firmly established his grip. As he started to take you away, he suddenly paused with you remaining closely behind. His masculine scent was befitting with the dashing designer suit he had on; he looked more like a businessman than a butler, perhaps that was what your father meant from yesterday's conversation. Turning his head halfway, he glanced over to the girls and spoke in a low tone, all with a dashing smirk decorating his side profile.

“Oh…about your outfit and nails….it is not in my place or station to remark on such matters. Please consult your designers and seamstresses if you ever feel confused.” With a slight tug, he pulls your hand and leads you away while the girls stood confused with hurt feelings. There hadn’t been many interactions between Ethan and the girls, but from what you heard by the house nanny, the few times he did exchange words with the two, it was far from what they ever expected or trying to achieve. Aside from his laconic smirks, the man was stone cold towards the two.

Reaching the double doors of your father’s private office, another butler stands by. “Please inform the master that his daughter is here to see him.” Ethan calmly states. The other butler nods before knocking on the glazed wooden doors, before peeking in upon hearing your father responding from inside. The elder butler steps aside and gives a slight bow towards Ethan as the latter bars the doors wide open, gently dragging you behind.

“Sweetheart, did you sleep well?” Your father immediately speaks out, while Ethan takes you over to a tea table, surrounded by lounge seats. Pulling the seat back for you, he guides you over and pushes you in towards the table, where a lovely tea set and tiered tray filled with all sorts of snacks and finger sandwiches were nicely laid out as your father makes his way to join in. “I got all of your favorites.” Your father says proudly, shooting another wink over to you.

Ethan finishes scooting you into the table, his hands gently caressing the back of the seat. Before pulling away, his hands gently graze over your arms and shoulders as he walks out with one hand in his pocket. The man certainly walked with a sense of authority and carried out a superior presence, more so than even your father, even though he was the master.

“I am sorry for how your stepmom and sisters behaved yesterday, that shouldn’t have happened.”

Your fathers words caught your attention, causing you to turn your head away from Ethan’s backside, making eye contact with your sympathetic parent. “I had words with them yesterday and will make sure that doesn’t happen again, they need to be more mindful especially since you’re going to be here for a while.”

You shook your head and waved off his concern. “It’s fine, I’m not worried about it.”

Your father smiles at your reassurance and chuckles. “Good.” Adjusting in his seat, he takes a cup of tea and begins to sip on it while carrying the conversation to a different direction. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded as you took your own cup and delicately sipped from it. Your father kept adjusting in his seat, appearing to find it difficult to gain comfort within the chair, not that it wasn’t hard to see why. The chairs were beautiful and carried a regal vintage design, but were very much too stiff for someone like your father, who required more softness to accommodate his back. No doubt he had so many strains from all the years he served in the military.

Just as you were about to ask him if he needed something for his chair, you hear the doors from behind open. Turning halfway in your own seat, you watched as Ethan entered with a silk and plush pillow in hand; he didn't say a word, instead, he walked directly over to your father and handed it over to him, obviously flaring his familiar knowledge of your father and his routines.

“Oh thank you so much Ethan, you do know me too well.” your father chuckles out as Ethan smirks. “Sweetheart, you want a pillow for your chair?” Your father asks you while Ethan stands by his side. He crosses his arms and gives a slight tilt of his head, establishing a rather dominant and assertive stance, yet your father seemed to be quite used to and didn’t mind at all, in fact, he seemed to embrace that wholeheartedly. You shook your head and politely declined the offer, to which Ethan issued a slight nod before exiting the study, turning back once more to pull the doors shut.

“I like Ethan, he’s super cool. Good guy too.” Your father spoke rather comfortably. You furrowed your brows confusingly, while nodding in agreement, sort of. “Is he…really your butler?” You asked as your father took a finger sandwich from the tier stand.

“Mmhmm.” Your father issues his response as he bites into the sandwich, and chews it while sipping on his tea. Looking back up, he gives you another wink. You chuckle and take one of the finger snacks and enjoyed it, along with a conversation that took up the entire morning as you caught up with your father and told him about college, your mother, stepfather, and even the young man that broke your heart, though one day at your father’s estate seemed to have done a lot of healing, more than you expected. You didn’t know why, but that would unfold as the days continued to swing by.

………………………

A couple of weeks had passed, and you didn’t see much of your sisters or stepmom, they weren’t really around at the house so much, instead, they liked their constant outings and partook in continuous shopping trips. You laughed and cringed internally as you watched the girls make their attempts in gaining Ethan’s affection, much less his attention. Half the time, the man would ignore their teasing and flirting words, but the times when he did entertain small talk, it was always a major shutdown, at least that’s what it looked like to you. But to the girls, it was something else.

…….

‘Oh that’s just how he is, trust me, Ethan likes it when I talk to him.’

‘I think he likes talking with me more.’

‘Shut the fuck up! He likes me more, bitch!’

‘You’re the bitch! You fucking rude bitch, who the fuck do you think you are?’

……

Now you were by no means a saint, but for the most part, using vulgar language was something you considered to perform only when the situation called for it. An outburst of anger perhaps, or…when you had your heart broken. A flashback of when the man informed you that you were just ‘practice’ for his real and true love came to mind, and the image of you screaming out and lashing every cursing you could imagine in his direction. Yet the girls were using it so freely, over a man that didn’t seem to take interest in anything other than his duties.

You politely excuse yourself from the room, allowing for the girls to bicker in peace while the seamstresses customized their designer gowns for the upcoming event. You gently shut the doors behind as you take your stroll outside, loving the sound of the doves that hummed their tune in a nearby Magnolia tree. You walked over to the massive gazebo, lavished with wisteria vines and overlooking the flat fields that extended past the lines of the property. A stone rail surrounding the gazebo stands at chest height, it was perfect for you to rest your forearms on as you leaned in and took in the beautiful sight of nature and tranquility. You watched as the staff members from afar tended to the private livestock, and harvested the fruits from your father’s orchard. In a peaceful state, you stare off with nothing in mind other than the happiness you witnessed as the staff members conducted their duties from afar, not at all realizing that you were watching them with a smile on your face.

“Enjoying the view?”

You turned your head and saw Ethan entering through the hanging vines of purple flowers from the Wisteria plant. “Oh–yeah…sorry, you caught me off guard.” Chuckling, you turn your attention back to the staff members. Ethan comes by your side, and as you had done, he leans against the stone rail while resting his forearms on the smoothed top surface. “Yeah, I seem to have a habit of doing that from time to time.” He calmly tells you, it almost seemed like it was his way of joking, yet you didn't really know whether to laugh or stay silent, so you gave a delicate chuckle instead.

“How are you enjoying being back? It's been the previous summer since you’ve last visited, correct?”

You nodded. “Yes, last summer was the last time I came over. At first, I’m not sure if I was thrilled about living here, not that I don't love my father, I do. I just…it was an abrupt decision and I didn’t really have a whole lot of say in the matter. But I’m glad I did…I miss my dad so much and I always did like this place.”

You confide as Ethan stares off at the orchard, nodding gently at your words. “When did you start working for my dad?”

Ethan lets out a light and airy chuckle of his own, dashing a side smirk as he continues to stare off at the fields. His hands were decorated with the leather gloves, with the right one being fingerless, as always. “Next week makes it six months.”

“You like it here too?”

“I do.” He pauses as he clasps his hands together before him. “Your dad is a good man.”

“Yeah he is.” you chuckle out, flattered by the compliment.

“Did you finish with the seamstresses?” he inquires. You turn to glance over to him with a faint, sweet smirk before looking back over to the distant orchard. “No, not yet. I figured I’d let my sisters do their thing and I’ll get my dress made after.”

“Hm. So you’re just wanting to get away and enjoy solitude in the meantime then.” his voice was deep, calm, and soothing. There was a tone in him that brought the image of a placid lake and gentle wind to mind. You could side with your father’s opinion on Ethan, he was a gentle and good man, and he was very fond of your father.

“Yeah…I love to get away.” you responded back, lifting your nose into the air as you relished the soothing wind blowing against your skin and through your hair. Ethan tilts his head over. “You love to get away?”

“Yeah.” you chuckle out as you flinch a quick glance over his way. He smiles in return.

“What do you like to get away from?”

“Everything. Sometimes I just like to get away from people, and be only in the presence of nature and wind.”

“What else?” Drawing your secrets out, he inquires for you to continue, and you confide fully without giving it a second thought. “I like to get away from responsibility and duties, and experience freedom, even if it's just for a second.”

Remaining in his leaned state, Ethan adjusts, shifting his weight over to one arm as he turns to fully face your direction. “So, you’re an escape artist, in a sense.” He smirks out.

“Yeah.” you chuckled, loving the feel of the wind picking up pace, roaring through your hair.

“You’re a runner?” his voice peaking a sense of interest as he remarks your habit of ‘running away’ or getting away from the things that burden you.

“I am.”

“You’re a runaway that likes to daydream?”

“I am.”

You both laugh in sync. He licks and bites his lip as he turns his face away and stares back off at the orchard. “Neat.” is all he says. Just as you were going to inquire about his unusual leather gloves, a dainty voice comes in from behind. “Y/N, we’re ready for you now.” You turn to see the personal seamstress. You smile and bid Ethan a goodbye before leaving him at the gazebo, not realizing that your smile flashed a charming sense that became permanently ingrained in the man’s memory.

……………………….

The night of the event, you sat in your room for a while before deciding to finally make your appearance at the ballroom. Your father’s residence was massive, with four floor levels and a grand ballroom on the main floor; despite frequently visiting every summer, it took you a while to remember your way around. Now, you know the entire house like the back of your hand.

You walk down the staircase, listening in on the laughter and small talk of the large crowd residing in the ballroom. The tail of your dress slinks down each step behind as you drag your hand against the smooth rail. You opted for a simple, plain and form fitting gown, with a high slit reaching your upper thigh; you’re not entirely too sure why you felt the need to look sexy, but why not? You only live once.

Your sisters also opted for a sexy look, though their plunging necklines screamed of desperation rather than seduction, but you kept your opinions to yourself. Tonight was a night for celebration, not for bickering.

You enter the grand room and earn a wave of stares. Your father stands at a distance and smiles proudly as he watches you make your way to one of the floor length windows. You gaze off at the moon, it looked so full and pretty tonight, shame you had to be inside.

The lights dim down, and the band plays a gentle piece that initiates the guest to slow dance. That was your que, one that you always looked out for, so you could…

“Get away…”

Snaking through the crowd, you make your way over to one of the outer doors that lead to a stone corridor that wraps around the entire base level of the mansion. You found solace in a secluded corner that overlooked the moon and stars, and was closed off to guests. The area wasn’t at all separated distinctively; it didn't have any walls, yet the four large pillars that surrounded it provided enough cover and seclusion for you to remain undisturbed, at least from the guests…

“Getting away again?” You turn to the side and notice Ethan entering the outdoor sitting area.

“Yeah…just for a little bit.”

He walks over and just as he did before, he stands by your side and admires the view of the full moon. His appearance wasn’t anything out of normal; he had on a fine black suit and tie, his leather gloves, and black shined shoes. His hair was styled just the same, and roared out a purple hue under the moonlight. In all actuality, he looked like one of the prestigious male guests inside the ballroom. Taking note of the privacy you both shared, you finally had the courage to ask him about his unusual choice of gloves.

“I was wanting to ask you…”

“Hmm?”

“Your gloves…I dont think I’ve ever seen anyone wear gloves like yours, especially a butler.”

“Oh, these? It’s just for comfort when I carry out some of my tasks.” He puts out nonchalantly, pretty much in the same manner as your father responded whenever you breached the topic of Ethan.

“Oh, I see. A butler that just likes to wear leather gloves then.” you chuckled out, with his own laughter following closely behind.

“Yeah, just a butler who likes to wear leather gloves.” he gently repeats as he switches his gaze from the moon, and looks over to you. Had you not been admiring the moon yourself, you would have taken notice of his unyielding stare. His eyes travel up and down, noting that this was the first time since your arrival to your father’s estate that he got to see the reality of your form. It was beautiful.

Admiring the curves of your body, the length of your hair traveling down your backside, and the complexion of your glowing skin, the man found himself in awe….again.

“So what made you want to get away this time? The people? The politics?”

“The moon.” you jest, slightly biting down on your lip, though you did so harmlessly. Yet Ethan couldn’t help but see the sultry beauty behind it. “I like the moon.” You claim.

“Oh yeah? What else do you like?” he punctures your way, unbeknownst to you, he takes a step closer by your side.

“I like animals. I like food, and the stars, and–”

“To run away…” he finishes, earning your sudden attention, allowing for you to see that he had migrated closer.

“...Yes. I like to run away.” You calmly state, issuing a faint nervous chuckle upon noticing the feasting hunger that glared in his eye. It scared you…but you were liking it….and you wanted more of it.

Reaching up, he takes a bit of your hair and glides his fingers through the length of it, allowing it to fall back on your spine. “Now tell me again…what else do you like, pretty girl.”

Your breathing was less steady and deep, you suddenly found the tone of his voice so alluring, and the way he ran his fingers through your hair brought out a tight feeling from within your gut. Tingling and numbness chimes in your womanhood, it was a sensation you were familiar with, yet this time it was much stronger and vivid. You whisper out your response, taking the plunge and the chance to tell him, without being so direct…

“I like….you…”

So much for not being too direct. At least you could say you tried to keep it somewhat discreet, which was much more than what you could say about your stepsisters.

“Yeeeah…I like you too…” his voice grew deeper and the shine in his eyes grew fierce as the hungry sense raged wildly, he looked different. He looked almost frightening, with how starving his eyes looked, yet the moment he gripped a handful of your hair while saying his piece, you could care less that he had the look of a hungry killer or a sadistic maniac, you were willing to feed him, and he sensed it.

With the grip of your silk strands, he pulls you in, sucking in your breath as he fully envelops your lips in a deep kiss. Oh to be kissed by this man….it was something else.

He explores your body and rubbed your hips, his fingers digging into your waist as a hand rides up your back and cradles the back of your scalp while taking in the sensation of your soft strands. The first moan you release against his tongue, he instantaneously rushes you against the pillar nearby, the force of his weight pushing you back until your shoulders meet the cold marble. Your rear and spine is plastered against the surface, yet he continues to push as his body melts into you. Without breaking the kiss, he keeps pushing, rubbing, and grinding, feeding off those sweet moans you let out.

Finally, he allows for the both of you to take a breath as he abruptly breaks his lips away. Softly gripping your neck, the fine leather squeezing against your skin, he whispers before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, his eyes staring down at you and never breaking contact. “Be a good pretty thing…and try to stay quiet for me.”

“Mm..mmhmm…” you moaned.

“Yeah? Can you do that?”

“Y-yes….yes…”

“Yeah?” he lowers his head and buries his face into your neck, ravishing you with kisses as he smothers his saliva on your smooth skin. “Say you’ll be good for me.”

“I-I’ll….I’ll be good…I’ll try to be good…mmm…Ethan.”

“Heeseung.”

You moaned out of both, pleasure and confusion as you winced your eyes shut upon feeling his kisses becoming rougher, his teeth nibbling on your neck. “H-Heeseung?”

“Mmhmm…my real name.” He lets out just before he gives you a sharp bite. “Ah! Uggghhhhh!!’ you jerked up upon feeling the stinging sensation, with him easing it out as he licked over his teeth mark. “Shhhh….you gotta be good, remember?” he mocks as he gives you another bite.

“Ugh! Fffffffffuck….ugh!” you lengthen out your moans as you feel your body tremble. You really thought you could be quiet, that wasn’t hard to do with the last guy…but with Ethan…no, Heeseung….it was impossible.

“I…I can’t…I can’t….please…please let me scream….oh God I wanna scream…”

Looping his hand under your thigh, he lifts your weight as your back drags against the pillar, his lips sucking and kissing your breasts, which have now become exposed as he pulls the straps down from over your shoulders. With a mouthful of your plump areola, his free hand trails upwards and makes its way to gently cover your mouth. “Then scream baby.”

His finger digs into the skin of your upper leg as he sustains your weight, while his free hand shoots up and gently holds you by your neck. It was all happening so fast, you hadn’t realized that he had already snaked his member out from his trousers until you felt the warm skin of his hard bulge probing your clothed entrance. He fingers your panties and scoots them off to the side, where the probing became more intense as you felt his hips bucking upward. He enjoyed teasing you with it, poking you a few more times as he wasn't focusing on entering, until you let out a whine that indicates your desire for him to do it to you. “Please…..” you moaned out. He kisses you as he finds himself, slipping through your tight walls. The both of you breathed out deeply and simultaneously upon feeling the initial penetration. He breaks the distance just slightly between your lips, so that he could take a better look at you while he continued to thrust all the way in, slowly. Sloooooowly.

There was so much friction, roughness, and pressure, but it was all divine. He stared down at you, looking directly into your eyes with his feasting ones, while his grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly. His thumb reaches up, and grazes over our gasping lips as you pant out your moans.

“Shh…” he waves his index over your lips, hushing you tenderly before the base of his groin meets with yours. You felt full, stuffed, and complete. He gives a slight nudge, imploring for you to respond that you were ready, and you were. With a slight nod, your eyes glistened as you gave him his que, to which he took, along with a kiss on the tip of your nose before he started to pull out. He didn’t have to say it, you could hear it within his growl that you were tight. Your walls squeezed every ounce of precum out of his throbbing length as he drew it out from the immense pressure your cavity created for him. Your squelching walls squeezing him, cradling him with a tight ring of muscle that made it almost seemed impossible for him to penetrate a second time. His breathing escalates yet each exhale becomes prolonged as he groans out the pleasure he felt upon breaching you. He exits out fully, his bulbous tip barely lays nestled in your cavity, with only the very tip that carried his exit laying inside, but it wasn’t for long. You clenched uncontrollably when you felt him plunge back in, harder, deeper, and faster. He bellows out in the depths of your gut while shoving his nose and mouth against your skin, still holding you by the thigh and neck. His hips thrust, starting off at a slow tempo, but taking no time to pick up the pace. In just a few seconds, you found yourself being lunged upwards in a jolting motion, all at high tempo.

In and out, his thrusts were graceful yet demeaning as he goes in each time with the intent on tearing you apart, feeding you the immense thickness of his length and girth. The sound of the bustling guests exiting and mingling outside of the house could be heard, all unaware of what was happening behind the large pillar that Heeseung had you pinned against. You so badly wanted to scream, it all felt too good. The way he had you bouncing upwards at high momentum, your hair draping and decorating the marble backing as he continued to shove and lift you to accommodate each thrust. Biting your lip, you couldn’t take it anymore and yelp out in desperation, only for him to shoot his hand up and cover your mouth as he did before.

“Shh….that’s my good girl.” Whispering against your forehead, his thrusts become harder and tighter as he reaches the areas of your body that you never knew could be obtained by a man. His length repeatedly hits a spot that causes you to yell out into his palm in a repeated motion as he goes in with so much ferocity. Your body goes limp, and you could barely contain yourself. Sensing that, he flings your thigh upwards and catches it, adjusting his grip as he scoots in closer while penetrating deep inside, leaving absolutely no distance between your heated bodies.

“Good girl…good girl…take it….keep taking it…..fuck!”

Feeling your walls pulsate did him in. You felt his cock throb with violent twitches as he buried it deep inside, releasing his warm, silky seed into you. The way you felt his length bend and flicker against your muscles, with the hot temperature of his children entering invigorated you, causing you to experience your orgasm. Your walls leak, vibrating out your ecstasy while he stays put for a few minutes; leaning back, he stares down at you with fulfillment in his eyes, they are no longer hungry. Satisfied under heavy lids, he reaches up and takes from his internal breast pocket of his suit, a silkened handkerchief. He pinches the corner, before whiplashing it to unfold as he slides out, inch by inch. Once you felt hollow, you felt the warm ooze of his labor dripping down your thigh. It was thick and white, mixed with the clarity of your body’s own solution produced from your orgasmic high. Keeping your thigh elevated, he takes a knee and drags the smooth silk against your skin as he delicately wipes up the residue, leaving a trail of kisses against your inner thigh upon cleaning you up. Dragging his tongue upwards, he leaves your skin spotless before standing straight up, placing a tender kiss on your lips. No words were exchanged, just acts of affection and softness to conclude the lovemaking. Throughout the night, Heeseung danced and kept you company, flashing a smile your way every so often, much to the dismay of your sisters.

“Why is Ethan dancing with her? I want to dance with him too!”

“After me first.”

Your stepmom subtly scolds the girls under her breath, pressuring them to focus on the more eligible bachelors that roamed the ballroom, no doubt heirs with big money behind their names. Yet the girls had a hard time shaking off the handsome Ethan from their minds, and only grew more frustrated as they watched him court you. Your father sips from his fine glass, and reassures your sisters as he issues a firm look over to your stepmom. “I’m sure it’s nothing girls. Go and mingle with all these other handsome fellas, I’m sure they’d love to dance with you two.”

“But dad! I’ve been telling you how long I’ve had a crush on Ethan, it’s not fair!”

Your father slides his stern look over to the girls; “I’m sure Ethan is being polite, after all, it's the first time your sister attended this event, he’s more than likely trying to make her feel welcomed since she doesn’t know anyone here. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Glancing over to you and Ethan, your father smiles softly upon admiring the way you both flowed with the course of the musical piece being played. Whispering to himself, he quietly tells himself, “I’m sure it’s nothing…but love.”

…………………………….

The following week, you spent more time with Ethan. For a butler, he didn’t seem to be as busy as you would expect, especially considering the house was massive. Then again, your father did mention that he was the head of the house staff, and second to only him as the master of the household, so perhaps his duties were strictly supervisory with high authority. Either way, you didn’t mind that he was free to be with you the majority of the days, it was exactly what you had needed to recover from your previous partner. Ethan had heard about him, yet never brought him up, he never felt the need to. As far as he was concerned, you had him now, and that was all that mattered.

One day, you went out with your sisters to do some shopping. You took interest in the local food vendors that sold fresh produce, while your sisters were enchanted by the local boutique of their favorite designer brand and the release of the new collection. You interacted with the sellers, buying simple ingredients to prepare a nice meal tonight, for you and Ethan. You were surprised that your father hadn’t become curious as to your frequent absence at dinner, since you were spending each evening in private with Ethan, dining at the gazebo or at one of the guest houses. Perhaps he knew? Or maybe he just trusted you to care for yourself, after all, he never restricted you to a strict schedule, allowing you the freedom to provide for yourself whenever you needed.

As you walked the row of street vendors, a mysterious figure from afar eyeballs your movements. Stationed at the peak of a nearby tower, he aims and observes through a scope, attached to a sniper rifle. Being the only legitimate daughter of the Ambassador came with some ups and downs, and it would appear that your father had enemies that intended to cause you harm, perhaps as a warning for money or secured and private information that would affect national security. Blindly unaware, you continued on with your shopping, just seconds away from getting pierced through the chest with a stray bullet. A bullet…that was shot in silence, not a sound heard by the crowds.

Hunched over, bleeding, and choking out his last breath, the mysterious assassin slowly fades out over his rifle; a single hole in his chest leaks out the last of his vigor as his vision blackens. Across the tower, on the roof of a neighboring hotel, another rifleman kneels perched with his own weapon and silencer. Ejecting the casing out from the ejection port, a leather gloved hand catches the steaming hot brass; with his trigger finger is exposed, he releases and activates the safety switch on the weapon. Peeking through the scope, he watches the mysterious figure die out, then switches his aim over to you. Watching over you, his scope follows your every move, until Bittmerman pulls up.

“Miss y/n, it's time to get back. Your sisters are already in the car.”

You nod and smile happily. “Okay, thank you.”

Taking Bitterman’s hand, he guides you in the backseat where you are reunited with your spoiled sisters. He shuts the door and looks up to meet the eye of the scope, emitting a nod that implies your safety behind bullet proof glass and steel. Smirking, the rifleman lowers the gun and takes it apart. Chuckling to himself, he places the components of his rifle in a fine case before standing and watching Bitterman’s car drive off.

Taking his index, he bites the tip of the leather glove and pulls it off his left hand. Taking the brass casing, he flicks it up in the air before catching it with his strong hand, adorned with the fingerless leather glove. Rolling the brass in between his fingers, he admires it for a second before he preps to take his leave. Chuckling once more, he whispers under his breath, growing excited in seeing you upon his return home, knowing you'll be waiting for him.

“I’m just a butler… who likes to wear leather gloves, pretty girl.”

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

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Drabble Idea: Judge Crane decides to give his obsession a third option. Death, exile, or…….

You know he would use his position in order to get his crush all to himself while Gotham burns.

YES OMG SOME LOVE FOR JUDGE CRANE he's so underrated and I actually lost it when I saw the movies in theaters and he popped up <3 like omg look it's my husband

warnings: coercion, ownership, threats of noncon, yandere vibes

"You can't be serious," you mumbled, but you knew he was-- Dr. Crane wasn't an especially humorous guy, that whole death by exile bit from earlier notwithstanding.

He still smiled at you, though; "It's your choice."

"Well, it's not much of a choice, is it?" you scoffed.

"It's a better choice than anybody else got," Jonathan shrugged, "if you do choose exile, I'm sure these guys would love to give you a nice send-off-- right, boys?"

You didn't even have the heart to look back at the thugs who had dragged you in here, but you heard them chuckling and mumbling amongst themselves. Crane had made his message clear, and you let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine," you said.

"Fine?" he repeated. "What's that mean, you'll just die?"

"No, I--"

"You know, you said once you'd rather die than marry me, do you remember that?" He laughed. But that was years ago, when your father tried to set you up with him because he was a respected doctor and you were a nice young socialite-- it was more about rebellion than anything else then, but learning about his insanity and criminal activities wasn't exactly changing your mind.

"I was wrong," you admitted, "alright? I'm sorry."

He smiled again, a little more sinister than the last time. "Then you can wait for me with the others... sweetheart."

The huddled mass of the 'arrested' dwindled through the day, executives and politicians dragged up the stairs to meet their fate as determined by Crane; soon it was only half or less left behind, with you simply counting the minutes until you'd be taken-- you couldn't imagine what life would be like with Jonathan, and for now, you tried not to.

He came for you at the end of the day, standing above you and smiling down as you stayed sitting on the ground, leaning against a pillar and waiting for whatever he asked you to do. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say," he admitted as he stared at you. "Hi honey, I'm home or something?"

"You don't actually sleep here, do you?" you frowned.

"No, no-- I believe in work-life balance," he shook his head; then reached his hand out to help you up. "Come on, let's go home."

Though you hesitated, you took his hand and let him help you to your feet with a wince.

"Are you alright?" he asked, seeing the pain on your face.

"They kinda roughed me up," you admitted quietly, though your breath caught when Jonathan pulled you closer.

"Poor thing," he mumbled, petting your cheek briefly, holding your waist a little tighter. "And having to sit on this hard floor all day-- you must be sore, hm?"

You nodded slightly, though you felt strange talking to him like this-- like it was a normal conversation, and not something you had to do to keep yourself safe. If being with him could really be considered 'safe'...

"I can write you a script if you're in too much pain," he offered, "but I think you just need some rest: somewhere warm, a nice big bed..."

He leaned in closer as he trailed off, taking a deep breath beside your head as he rubbed your back. Though he must have noticed the way you tensed up and nearly pulled away, it didn't deter him.

"I'll be good to you," he promised, "if you just behave. You don't need to be so afraid of me."

But you could hear the excitement in his voice; he liked that you were afraid of him. Finally, he had the power over you that you'd denied him all those years ago. No matter how sweet he promised to be, one way or another, he was going to make you pay for that.

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane fic

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spacedace · 1 month

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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

#batman #batman au #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #dc penguin #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #dick grayson robin #bruce wayne #the joker #tim drake #dc robin #gotham city #open season au #i don't go in for Jason being the 'angry' robin or the 'violent' robin #he was the lil chainsmoking ball of sunshin robin that made sure to do his homework first before going out to fight crime #dick was the scariest robin because he was BOTH incredibly violent & full of rage AND a ball of sunshine & unrelenting hope #Jason was a Gotham kid (an Alley Kid) and I think a lot of the rogues would have respected that #dick got his respect by teaching them how many of their bones a tiny 9 year old could break in a single kick #feel like there's a scene in the extended au in which Tim gets kidnapped but instead of being held for ransom or threatened #it's just the Rogues aggressively mother-henning him and trying to make sure he's alright #Dick gets a call from Harley later that the newest Robin is fine he and Riddler are coming up with deadly traps together #No she doesn't see anything wrong with that - it's just some enrichment activities for them - why do you ask?

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bellasprettywords · 5 days

Text

So High School (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: It’s me, hi, so I’m kind of back, although I’ve decided to expand my horizons and also write for Doctor Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds; either way, I hope you like this little writing🤭💕

This one shot is inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift from The Tortured Poets Department, which is my current obsession, so if you are swifties, I hope you guys catch the references 🫶🏼

This is season 2 Spencer, cause I just really dig the shy-sweet vibe

This is not proofread, as it’s 2 am, but I couldn't stop

y/n – your name

Warnings: Friends to lovers (kindish), mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2,409

My Masterlist

Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, but every now, and then you’d have days when all you had pending was paperwork, and you’d catch a break. Like right now, sure, you still had a couple of reports to get through, but overall the mood seemed relaxed, even if you’d been working nonstop for the last 24 hours.

You were typing your reports and sporadically, you’d catch a glance of Spencer Reid’s concentrated face, whose desk was in front of you. Sure, you were work friends, but deep down you knew you had a small crush on the twenty-five-year-old Doctor. Your thoughts were starting to fly away, thinking about Spencer's hair, framing his delicate features, his big eyes, which seemed to move frantically over the computer screen, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was invested into his work, and the way his brows were crunching, making small wrinkles in his forehead; when suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted.

“You know what we should do? We should play kiss, marry, kill” Penelope suggested way too loudly coming into the bullpen with a huge grin and walking frantically to your desk.

“What are you even saying?” exclaimed Emily, standing from her chair and approaching your desk

“We still have to finish our reports” said Spencer, who seemed to be glued ho his computer, taping frenetically

“Did I just hear kiss, marry, kill?” Morgan approached your desk and one by one, the gang was coming all together

“Okay, first round, y/n, kiss, marry, kill with Gideon, Hotch and Rossi?” Penelope asked a little too excited for the question

“Come on, I’m not answering that” you said chuckling at the thought of even giving a response

“Comeeeeeee ooooooon” this time Morgan insisted and the absurdity of the question made you laugh so hard, Spencer looked up from his computer

“Fine, kiss Rossi, marry Hotch and kill Gideon, because he has way too much dad energy to kiss or marry him” you said, and your friends burst out laughing

“We are way too sleep-deprived to be here” Emily said chuckling, “Also, I’m starving”

“I have a frozen pizza at home I just can’t wait to devour” you said and suddenly your friend's eyes seemed to sparkle

“Now that I know that, I’m totally going home with you” Penelope said clinging to your arm

“I’m tagging along as well” Emily added clinging into your other arm

“They say three is a multitude, so I’m coming, just to keep you guys in check” Morgan exclaimed, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to add himself into your plans, but unfortunately, the young doctor was back into his working frenezzy.

“Como on Spence, we are going home” you said hoping he’d tag along to your improvised plan, even if you were almost certain he’d say no, considering he didn’t really talk to you other than work related business; and rarely info dumped on you, which made you a little sad, considering his info dumps were one of the things that you most liked about him.

“Excuse me?” Spencer said crunching his eyebrows and staring over his screen monitor into your eyes

“We… we are all coming to my house to eat pizza, I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come” you stuttered and felt your cheeks become red. Anytime, you’d try to talk to Spencer about anything other than work, words would trip out of your mouth incomprehensibly, your cheeks would flush in a bright shade of red, and you were pretty sure anyone with a brain knew about your crush, specially considering you’d act like a high schooler in love around him.

“Come on man, we can even trow some poker to sweetener the deal for you” Morgan added

“Also, y/n told me that she has the new Grand Theft Auto, so we could play for a while” Penelope tried convincing Spencer appealing to his love for video games, and if it wasn’t obvious before, well, it was obvious now that you were eager to have the boy-genius at your place

“Alright, let me just grab my bag” Spencer said calmly, almost… oblivious to the fact that your friends were playing smooth wingman and wing-woman

“Penny and I are driving together, and Derek is taking his bike, so Reid, you can drive with y/n” Emily said and for a second, you couldn't believe how shamelessly uncool your friends were being about the whole situation

“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate riding with you” Spencer told you a little… flustered? No way, you were the one fangirling over him, maybe he was just getting secondhand embarrassment for the whole situation and your friend’s pathetic attempts to get you together.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The ride home was quite nice, Spencer seemed to loosen up when he got the chance to share statistics on pizza consuming habits in the U.S. and somehow, he managed to incorporate the history of pizza:

“So, a precursor of pizza was probably the focaccia, a flatbread known to the Romans as panis focacius, to which toppings were then added. Modern pizza evolved from similar flatbread dishes in Naples, Italy, between the 16th and mid-18th century” Spencer kept explaining, while you took the chance to steal a couple of glances, even if it was a driving hazard “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are bored with my nonstop chatter” the young Doctor added shyly

“No way, I really enjoy your facts and stories” you said, and a shy smile formed into his lips, so you took a leap of faith, hoping with all your heart he wouldn't be uncomfortable with what you were about to say “I love the way your mind works, I find it amazing how you can just know so much, you know?”

“Thank you, it is called an eidetic memory, most people think it’s weird” Spencer said looking down to his hands, that were lying over his lap.

OH MY GO, WAS DOCTOR SPENCER REID BLUSHING? You were trying your best to hide your excitement, and luckily you were saved by the bell, as without realizing it, you were already parking in front of your apartment building

“So this is me, home sweet home” you said turning off the engine of your car and Spencer gave you a side smile that made your stomach flutter

“Thanks for the drive, and you know, for having me” he said, and you were high on his words; everything about him seemed to fascinate you, but before your mind could go wild, Morgan tapped your car window to let you know he was there, and after a couple of minutes, Penelope and Emily were outside as well

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“I’ll put the pizza in the oven, so maybe we can play a round of poker while we wait?” you suggested as your friends took a seat at the table, and you handed them a beer each.

“That’s what I’m talking about” Morgan said, already shuffling the deck of cards. The game was fun, although Spencer won each and every round. The night was everything you could ask for, Spencer seemed comfortable at your apartment, and he even got around to joking and laughing out loud.

“Truth or dare?” Morgan said spinning his empty beer bottle with mischief in his eyes, and laughs started bursting, until it landed on Emily

“Truth” she said glancing at Morgan with amusement

“Have you even come into work tipsy?” Morgan asked

“Alright, yeah, once when we were working with the Newport Police” she replied calmly “Now, have anything stronger?” Emily asked, lifting her beer bottle

“As a matter of fact, I do” you said standing from your chair and bringing different alcohol bottles, you had a wide selection of whiskey, wine, rum, tequila, and vodka

“What are you? A bartender?” Penelope asked, surprised by the alcohol selection.

“I tried, I even got a book, but between life and work I never got around to reading it” you added pouring your friends a couple of drinks.

Emily spun the bottle, and it landed on Spencer, who gulped a little too loudly, and you couldn’t keep your eyes from his Adam’s apple “Truth or dare, boy-genius?” she asked taking you off from your thought

“I… mm… truth?” he said almost too afraid of what your friends could think about asking him

“Alright, what do you think about y/n?” Emily asked bluntly, and you could see Spencer’s cheeks turning red. Sure, you loved your friends, but their mingling was getting way too obvious for your mental health

“I… I think she’s great, I mean, of course she is incredibly smart, she’s sweet, funny, and she has a special way to always makes you feel heard and taking into consideration. It is undeniably that she’s pretty, I mean, and… yeah that's what I think” Spencer said staring into your eyes, and you couldn't believe it, you literally were wonderstruck.

Did he like you? Did he just admit you were pretty? You were literally on cloud nine when you realized Spencer had spun the bottle, and this time it was facing you

“What’s… What’s your favorite movie?” Spencer asked shyly, and all eyes turned to him

“Come on man, that was your shot” Morgan said leaning into Spencer

“That changes, but right now I’d say American Pie” you said trying not to sound too embarrassed. Secrets were spilled, confessions were made, and shots were taken, until Penelope spun the bottle and once more, it landed on Spencer

“Truth or dare, lover-boy?” Penelope asked a little too excited, which once more made Spencer a little nervous, considering the situation, and of course, the fact that he pretty much just admitted having a crush on you

“Dare?” Spencer said, almost asking

“Uuuh I got a great one, read y/n’s bartender book, and then prepare us some fire ass drinks” she said almost euphoric

“Oh, okay, sure, I can do that” Spencer said released a breath he didn't realize he was holding “y/n, would you mind lending me the book? So I can read it, please?” he asked shyly, and you knew this was your chance to make a move

“Of course, although I’m not sure where it is, so… maybe you can help me find it?” you asked hoping he caught the subtext

“Yes, yes I can help you look” he said, and a little grin formed into his lips

“What about playing the Grand Theft Auto whille they go lok for the book?” Morgan asked smootly, giving you just what you needed, a chance to slip to the side with Spencer

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You were now in your room, with the guy that made your stomach flutter, and once again, you coultn shake away the feeling of being a sixteen year old girl approaching her crush for the first time. Okay, so until now you knew there was a chance he actually liked you, so for the first time, you tried to flirt smootly

“So, the book must me somewhere on this wall” you told Spencer pointing at the wall-tall-bookshelf that adorned your room

“That is an impressive collection” Reid said admiring your books

“Thank you, I like… reading, and of course, books” you mumbled and between the nerves of having him in your room, and the fact that he was aproaching you, starring directly at your eyes, your braing wasn’t braining it. This defenetly wasn’t considered smooth, or flirty

“Truth or dare?” Spencer said coming closer to you

“Truth” you responded almost instantly

“Why is American Pie your favorite movie?” he asked, and the question genualy threw you off

“I know most people think it’s a really stupid movie, but even in those crazy scenarios, the guys get to laugh, and learn about life, sure, it’s twisted, and watching to too your can defenetly cause issues, but I think it’s a great piece of cinematography”

“That’s impressive, altough I can’t judge, as I’ve never got arroud to watch it” Spencer said, moving a little, and turning back to your book collection

“Truth or dare, Doctor Reid?” you asked playfully

“Truth” he said chuckling, and once again, you confirmed his little laughs sent a dopamine charge into your brain that was almost adictive

“What’s your favorite thing from my collection?” you asked, moving your hand motioning your bookshelf

“While you have an impressive Aristotle collection, which I’m a big fan of, right now my favorite thing in this room is not exactly a thing, but a person” he said once again leaning into you, “Truth or dare, miss y/n?” he asked coming even closer to your face

“Truth” you asked playing it safe, as he had suddenly turned into Doctor Smooth Reid, and seeing him take charge, was a side of him, one that you were totally enjoying

“What are you thinking about right now?” he said, leaning a little closer to you

“Actually, all I can think about right now is kissing you” you admited, bitting you lower lip, but not giving him time to answer, you asked “Truth or dare?”

“Dare” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from your eyes, to your lips and viceversa

“I dare you to kiss me” you said, and as you finished yout sentence, his hand was cupping your cheeck, his other hand was placed on your waste, and his lips were softly crashing into yours. The kiss was soft, and sweet, with a couple of bites in between. One kiss, then another one, and swiftly, Spencer made you turn, placing your back towards your bookshelf and getting closer to you, just like you, he longed for this moment, for your kiss, for your touch. You were enjoyoing yourselves way too much, when you heard a knock on your door, which made the two of you burst out laughing

“We should go back to them” Spencer said, placing a las kiss into your lips

“Maybe next Saturday you can come over, I mean, you can’t go though life without the rite of passage of watching American Pie” you said chuckling, hoping with all your flustered heard he’s say yes

“That would me wonderful, I can’t keep living like this, without watching American Pie, I mean” he said lacing his fingers with yours, and opening the door for you, so the two of you could go back to your friends, who were also laughing from the living room, as they were sure their mission of getting you together had been succesful.

Part 2

I really hope you liked it, let me know if you want part 2, as I'm pondering the idea of the American Pie date.

Kay, love you, bye 🩷

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 2 months

Text

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni 18+, sloppy blow/handjob, one (or two) d-slaps, praise, könig is big (i think, that is canon by now), swallowing)

part before: breaking the bed

I ring the doorbell. My cat’s carrier in the one hand, Mimi meowing softly. A backpack in the other.

König opens the door and I look up at him and…

He’s wearing glasses.

Right there on his nose. Black framed glasses. My jaw drops as he smiles down at me, completely unaware.

“Hey.”, he greets me, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my cheek, while his hand shoots out to take the pet carrier from me.

“You have glasses?”, I ask incredulously, letting go of the handle.

The smile falls off his face. “Ah scheiße, I forgot to take them off.”, he mutters, turning away.

“Did you fucking hide them from me?”, I say, still trying to wrap my head around it.

"No, I just need them to read.”, he grumbles as I close the door behind me and follow him into the living room.

He sets Mimi's carrier down and opens the door to let her out, the little kitty traipsing out carefully, getting to explore the new surroundings while we get the rest of the stuff from my car. I didn’t pack that much because it’s only temporary, staying with him until we get the bed situation fixed. There's actually more for the little minx than for me. Her toilet, her cat food, the basket. And then the second box with my stuff that König carries up to the bedroom while I set her basket down next to the couch, and then go to sit down and watch her zoomies.

I laugh, when I see him coming down the stairs again, the glasses still on his nose. The giant with the tattooed arms, all dressed in black, a Death shirt on, the five o’clock shadow, the long hair that he pushed out of his face… and then those black rimmed square glasses. I laugh even more as he shoots me a glare, a deathly one.

He drops onto the couch right beside me, pulling me into him as he grumbles something grumpily in German. I kiss him, telling him that he looks even more attractive with the glasses on. "They are totally fine. So fine even.", I say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, his stubble scratching against the sensitive skin of my lips.

"Really?" He looks at me skeptically. With the glasses that just makes me want to give him another kiss. It's criminal how good he looks with them on.

"Yeah.", I answer truthfully, and I can’t help the little smile coming through. Has he really hidden them from me? Is that… a little hint of insecurity I am seeing behind the serious expression, the cocked eyebrow arching over the glasses?

"No ‘old man’-talk then, huh?", he comments, pointedly.

I laugh. "Maybe a little bit... They are giving you major dilf-vibes.", I say, biting back a giggle.

He furrows his brows, looking at me with a confused stare. "Dilf-vibes?", he echoes, and I explain it to him, of course, a bright mischievous grin plastered onto my face. The only part of the acronym that sticks is that I'd like to fuck him.

"Hm, really? Like right now?", he smirks at me, mischief sparking in his eyes, his large hand stroking up my back. The cocky expression on his face dissipates as I drop onto my knees on the floor, right in front of him, my hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his jeans.

I look up at him, a sultry smile stalking onto my lips, when I pop the button of his pants and lower the zipper. He groans when I take out his dick, his length hardening quickly, as my fingers wrap around him. He slides forward, shimmying his jeans down a bit and spreading his thighs, making room for me between them. I scoot closer, leaning over, and take his tip into my mouth. Sucking on it. Feeling him grow, while my eyes search his.

His head falls back, as I work him, breaking the eye contact, soft moans dropping from his lips. His hand moves up to take his glasses off, but I stop him.

I release him with a pop. “No, leave them on.”, I ask. “Please.”

“You really like them that much, hm?”, he asks, pulling up one eyebrow, but a smirky grin stalks onto his lips, and his hands drop down again, the right one digging into the cushions of the armrest.

“I do.”, I say, my expression mirroring his, as I move my hand up and down his length lazily, which makes him groan again, his hips rutting forward.

I’m getting cocky (no pun intended), just grab him at the base and slap his hard dick against my cheek. It even makes a little noise, so I do it again, this time a bit harder. His jaw drops a little, his eyes widening in surprise, before mischief sparks in them.

“I wanted to do that for quite some while.”, I whisper, still grinning up at him.

He laughs a little bit, the smile on his face smirky and lustful, while his gaze gets heated. “You're not even half as innocent as you look."

"What's that supposed to mean?", I ask him, gripping him tighter, moving my hand quicker now as I jerk him off.

"Oh, you know, Fräulein.", he just says, the last word turning into a moan when I squeeze the tip with my fingers.

Instead of an answer I lean forward again, my eyes not leaving his while I teasingly lick it before I close my lips around him. Slowly moving down his length. His breath hitches, a quiet treacherous sound, his eyes intently watching what I’m doing.

I try to take him deeper, letting the tip hit the back of my throat, and I can feel tears well in the corner of my eyes. I'm not stopping until they're running down my face, the wet drops slowly rolling down my cheeks. His hips jerk up, pushing his dick a little further still as I bop my head up and down his length, at least as far as I can take him. Not even fitting half of him, but that doesn’t deter him.

"Mmh, look at you, swallowing me down like a good girl.", he drawls, his words breathy, his gaze fixed on my lips that are fitted around his girth. The praise washes over me, and I can feel a tingle down my spine.

It spurs me on, I can feel how wetness seeps into my panties, kneeling before him like this. Taking him deeper until I gag around him, strings of my spit covering him, some of it dropping down further.

But there is no use trying to make him fit down my throat, he is just too thick. I pull back, letting myself breathe again, licking the underside of his shaft which makes him shiver. I move to the top, not stopping the nibbles and sloppy kisses, until my tongue is dragging over the sensitive spot, his foreskin sliding back and forth while I jerk him off at the same time. I can taste the salty hints of precum and feel the metal of his piercing as I toy with the tip.

The sounds that drop from his lips are divine. Soft grunts, deep and gravelly, low breaths. Gripping the cushions with his hand, his fingers of the other one running through his hair. His head is tilting back, every so often, but his eyes don't want to leave me. Seeing how I play with his pierced tip. How my hands run up and down his dick. I spit, letting a dollop of saliva drip down onto him before I spread it down his length to lube him up even more.

"Ah, scheiße.", he grumbles, rolling his eyes back.

I work him with both my hands, my fingers sliding over his soft hot skin easily, his dick slick with my spit. They still barely fit around his girth as I move them a bit faster, finding a steady rhythm, until he's moving restlessly, fucking up into my hands.

I bend forward, taking the tip in my mouth. I fit my lips around him, my cheeks hollow. My eyes are meeting his while I look up at him, and his hips buck up, pushing him a bit deeper which has me gag around him.

"Fuck, just like that." The low gravelly whisper is the only thing he says before I feel him pulsing in my mouth, warm sticky cum shooting down my throat. I hum around him, licking everything up as he comes, and I keep sucking him until I can feel him softening in my mouth.

I pull back, letting him slip out, and drop my jaw to show him his cum in my mouth, the white liquid sitting on my tongue. The sight lets him groan again and I swallow it down, the taste lingering.

I get up from the floor and crawl onto the couch again, wiping over my chin in a quick motion. His dick is still out, resting against his stomach, and he pulls the pants up, to let me take a seat on his thighs.

“Do you believe me now, that I really like your glasses?”, I ask him, pressing my lips to his in a quick kiss, then I steal them from his nose to set it onto mine.

He laughs. “I do.” His hand shoots up, his thumb softly grazing over my cheek, his fingers pushing some of my hair back, his eyes trailing my face, every single bit of it.

“How do I look?”, I ask him, trying to pull a serious grimace, like he always does when he tries to mask his jokes.

“Looking good.” He grins at me while I drop the expression and pose, placing my chin on the back of my hands, batting my eyelashes at him. “And way cuter than me.”, he adds, giving my nose a little peck.

“Well, that’s not difficult.”, I shoot back, sticking my tongue out at him.

We laugh a little, and I cannot fight the smile that adorns my face. It’s so simple and casual, the way we’re sitting here, me on his lap after just blowing him. His arm wrapped around me, his other hand softly stroking over my thigh. The warmth of his body against mine, his scent in my nose, my hands tangled in his hair. His presence alone is stirring something in me, the feelings still new and yet familiar at the same time.

Today at work, my thoughts came back to his offer of staying at his place and I had some doubts. Feeling like I was intruding again, even though he was adamant about not letting me sleep on just a mattress in my own apartment, after he broke my bed, and inviting me to stay with him. At least until we got it fixed. And sitting here with him like this, I don’t know anymore why I even thought twice about it.

There’s just something that has been roaming my mind all day. And now I'm thinking about it again, I can't push it away, though it might be a bit of a weird timing. I just...

I hand him back the glasses, he takes them and I sigh. "I wanted to talk to you about something.", I start then.

He puts the glasses on the end table next to the couch, but his head whips in my direction when I speak. "What is it, Kleine?", he wants to know, his arm around my waist pulling me closer.

"Uh, sorry, I'm bad at this but – and we don't have to put any labels on it or anything – but now that I'm also staying at your place and everything..." I pause and he just looks at me, his brows pulled up. Patiently waiting for me to finish my sentence. "We're dating, right? Like, exclusively?"

He nods slowly, his mouth tilting up into a little lop-sided smile, while he's still looking at me all serious. "I don't plan on seeing anyone else, so yeah, I think, you can call it dating or being exclusive, how the youngsters call it.", he says which pulls a little chuckle from me. "Whatever you wanna call it.", he concludes, squeezing my thigh once, a quick reassuring gesture.

"Okay.", I say, snuggling into him, my head resting on his shoulder, content with that answer.

"If you want to see other people though, that's fine too.", he adds after a second of hesitation, and I’m unsure how to interpret the tone in his voice.

The expression on my face drops when I realise what he means. I break away to look at him. "No! No, I mean, I wasn't asking for that reason. I just wanted to make sure, we were on the same page.", I explain. "I don't want to see anybody else either."

I don't have the nerves to tell him, that this had nothing – well, almost nothing – to do with him, but certain people in my past where expectations were built and not met. I just wanted to know to spare myself any unforeseen surprises in that department.

"Don't worry, Liebes.", he says, pulling me into him again. "As long as I'm on leave, you got me all to yourself." Pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"How long will that be?", I ask, ignoring the little flutter in my stomach. Excitement and dread mixing, hearing him say that I got him all to myself, while at the same time knowing that he will need to go back to his job sometime soon.

"Gonna know next week, when they send the details.", he answers, simply.

“Okay.”, I nod, not knowing what else to say to that, instead stretching up to kiss him again. Starting off slow, my lips pressing softly against his. My hand strokes over his face, feeling the scruff on his jaw beneath my fingertips, as we deepen the kiss.

His tongue strokes against mine, a touch that sends a pang of need between my legs and makes me squirm. I snuggle into his broad chest, and with how I’m draped over his lap, that makes his big burly thigh press against my clothed pussy, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my lips. A treacherous, obscene sound that he swallows up.

“What was that?”, he asks, mumbling against my lips, before he pulls back.

“Nothing.”, I say, feigning ignorance. Desperately trying not to subconsciously roll my hips over his muscly thighs, searching for more friction.

He just pulls an eyebrow up, not taking my shit.

“Well, you know. Somebody broke my bed instead of making me come this morning.”, I quip, a challenge in my voice and eyes, which has him look at me from under his eyebrows. The gaze alone is sending a shiver down my spine as it’s boring into me, heated and heavy.

“Oh really.”, he states, his voice deepening.

“Yes really.”, I say. “And…” I halt, trying to find the words. “Sucking your dick didn't help either.”

“Look at you, talking all dirty now, huh?”, he drawls, a mischievous grin cutting through his stern expression, seeming satisfied with my little comment.

“Well, you know, we’re getting there.”, I say, grinning at him. “Getting there, even if I’m not getting off.”, I poke at him again, teasingly rubbing myself over his thigh.

"And we can’t have that.", he states darkly, scooping me up in a quick motion.

He throws me over his shoulder which has me yelp: “König!” before he hurries up the stairs to the bedroom.

Continue right on in the next part: breaking me (not literally) or check out the full story in the Masterlist ~

a/n: this is cut short, cause the part right after is not finished yet, and although my wrist (got tendonitis :c) is already feeling a little better, i still need to rest it and this scene i only needed to proofread, i hope you understand <3 also check out @idontknowreallyidontcare who also has a very nice post about König wearing glasses!

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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sundrop-writes · 1 month

Text

She Keeps Me Up

Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader

I'd fall to pieces if I went anywhere without her

Summary:

JJ is protective of you. When you offer yourself up as 'bait' to lure in an UnSub who is killing women of your type, she protests endlessly about it - but ultimately she can't stop you.

She can, however, possessively lay her claim on you when you get back from the ordeal with nothing more than a tiny scratch.

Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 3,100

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This is pretty much pure smut (with very little plot); this is older/milf JJ and younger reader - the specific age difference is not stated, but the reader is mentioned to be the youngest person on the team; JJ is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; in the very minimal plot, the reader volunteers herself as 'bait' to lure an UnSub (that UnSub is hunting women with similar looks to the reader, but the reader's looks are not described in any way); (passing mention of rape - the UnSub rapes his victims); the reader ends up with a very small cut on her neck from the UnSub but doesn't get any other injuries from the incident; JJ is very protective of the reader; JJ is very possessive of the reader; lots of praise kink - JJ calls the reader 'good girl'; JJ calls the reader 'baby', and 'babygirl'; thigh riding (the reader rides JJ's thigh); JJ is fully clothed and the reader is naked; Mommy kink - the reader refers to JJ as Mommy; very slight manhandling (nothing beyond JJ's realistic strength/nothing to suggest the reader can't be plus sized); oral sex - reader receiving; edging (once - because JJ likes to play with her food); slight spit kink; undertones of humiliation kink; fingering - reader receiving; a lot of begging; implications toward overstimulation; and I think that's it?

A/N: I feel like I have to give credit to this amazing edit - this inspired the general vibe of this fic and inspired the song choice for the title. Dom Milf JJ got stuck in my head and I needed to write about her, and when someone requested thigh riding with Dom JJ, it all came together perfectly in my brain. This could be viewed as a version of JJ who never married Will, or this could be viewed as a situation where Will and JJ are poly and Will is totally okay with JJ and the reader's relationship (which is what's happening in my head, even though I didn't mention Will in the fic). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!

...

“You did so good. Hey, shh. It’s okay. You did so good. You’re okay.”

It was still echoing in your mind - JJ’s firm, soothing voice speaking the words, along with the way she held you tight as you collapsed into her arms after the long, hectic night.

You had been the perfect bait to a killer that the BAU had been struggling to catch - a young, pretty face, exactly like all the other girls he had killed thus far. You were the youngest member of the team, a fresh face that perfectly matched the man’s type in a string of young girls that he had murdered and dismembered after brutally raping them.

Even though you had volunteered to help lure the killer out, JJ had been stiff-jawed and glaring at the mere suggestion of you in the presence of such a sick man. You saw it as a way to help, but all she saw was horrible flashes in her mind, images of you merging with the crime scene photos on the board, turning into one of the dead girls who had been killed so brutally. It kept flashing through her mind on a loop, taunting her. She was deeply against it, and spent the better part of the day trying to talk Emily out of it, trying to convince the team that there was some other way.

But you wouldn’t risk the lives of any more women. You trusted the team to have your back.

And even when the horrible man had held the knife to your throat, just barely cutting into your skin with it while the team rushed to capture him, you still didn’t regret it. So many more people would be safe because of what you had done. JJ had been there for you - holding onto you tight, and assuring you that you had done well while your chest racked with sobs and you struggled for breath.

There was a lot of paperwork to be done and technically they wanted you to visit the hospital to be fully medically cleared, but all you wanted was JJ. You needed some time alone in a quiet room instead of all the flashing lights, people bustling around, asking you questions, crowding into your personal space. She stayed tight by your side, her hand never leaving yours.

She barked at them in her authoritative voice when you gave her a sad-eyed look that told her you didn’t want to go to the hospital. The small cut on the side of your neck that had been inflicted by the man’s large knife was bandaged up with you sitting on the back of the ambulance and then JJ whisked you away from it all.

With you still shaking lightly, your muscles quivering with anxiety and your chest threatening more sobs - she knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with your mind replaying it all, over and over again.

She knew exactly what you needed. (She always did.)

It wasn’t long before she had you alone in her hotel room, stripped completely naked while she was still fully clothed. She guided you to sit on her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed, the roughness of her clothes so perfect against your sensitive skin.

The lights were dim - only the lamp of the side table turned on, creating the perfect quiet atmosphere, making it feel like the two of you were the only people in the world. She had a firm, commanding grip on your hips with both hands, guiding you to sit with your thighs bracketed around her leg. You were soon sitting with the firmness of her athletic, muscled thigh stiff between your legs; nestled up against your hot, needy pussy as she firmly pulled you to sit on the fabric of her gray slacks.

You let out a loud whimper as she pulled you to fully sit and forced her thigh fully between your legs. She forced the muscled firmness right up against the naked, swollen lips of your cunt. You weren’t completely wet (yet), but you found yourself clenching down hard at the pure rawness of the fabric rubbing against you, the feeling of her nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

Upon instinct, your hands moved to sit on her shoulders, tangling into the mess of blonde curls there. You whimpered even harder at the feeling of her lips skimming along your cheek as she gently hushed you.

“Shh, shh.” She said, entirely confident and firm. “Good girl. You’re so good for me.”

Her nose brushed down toward your neck and her thigh flexed - you unconsciously bucked forward, scraping your pussy against her leg, creating a raw, perfect burning friction. A needy heat easily grew within you at a very fast rate, easily pushing out any fear or anxiety that you had about being attacked by that man, about coming so close to having your jugular sliced. All of it melted away from you with her grounding touch on you, with her breath fanning across your skin, with her familiar scent in your lungs.

“We’re gonna take it slow, okay baby?” JJ said, her soothing voice petting across you - like being wrapped in velvet.

Slow.

That word was usually your enemy.

But you knew that JJ set the pace, no matter what. She was the one in charge. If she ripped your pants down and demanded that you cum within a minute - then you were just a puppet for her pleasure. If she laid you out on the bed naked and played with you, teased you for hours and only let you cum for the first time when the sun was starting to rise - then all you could do was lay there, a sweaty mess, and let her have her way with you.

She was the commander, and you were nothing but her humble follower.

You felt hollow without her - always waiting for her command, waiting for her touch. And you could do nothing but accept what she had to give you.

“Yes, Mommy.” You squeaked out, sliding your palms from her shoulders, deeper into the softness of her hair, seeking more of that touch - more comfort.

“Good girl.”

It was that firm praise coming from the velvet of her voice that had wetness truly leaking from you now. You didn’t think that she could feel it through the fabric of her pants, not yet. But she knew you well enough, and she could see the tense of your thighs, the way your stomach quivered. She knew how to play you like a fiddle. And she was good.

So it was then that JJ dug her fingers into your hips once again, and began rocking you across her thigh - forcing you to move. She wanted you to begin riding her thigh in order to get off.

“Come on, baby.” She encouraged you, lifting her face from your neck to look you in the eyes - sharp, icy blue piercing through the dim lighting of the room at you, instantly making your gut twist. “Move your hips. Be a good girl for me. Come on.”

You couldn’t help but to follow the instructions, encouraged by her words. You moved your hips along as she guided you - already feeling pleasant warmth and tingling creeping up your spine, pooling in your stomach and between your thighs. With your swollen pussy rubbing against the fabric of her pants, it was creating a hot friction that was already driving you crazy. Your legs unconsciously widened, your body grinding downward, trying to get more attention on your throbbing clit.

“Patience, needy girl.” JJ growled, digging her thumbs firmly into your hips, making you moan out in pain at the sharp touch.

She guided you along in wide, languid strokes. She was forcing your hips to stroke back toward her knee, forcing your back to arch harshly before she brought you back to sit more upright, bringing your body closer to hers once again. It was a motion that put tingling heat through you - but it was a slow burn, rather than the fast, mindless pounding that your body was begging for. She was keeping you on a low simmer, forcing your body to warm up so slowly.

It was just like she wanted - slow.

You whined out with impatience, your hand grasping at her shirt while you bit your lip harshly. You were deeply resisting the urge to fight against her grasp in order to fuck yourself against her.

“Please.” You begged quietly. “Please, Mommy. I need it.”

“I know what you need, babygirl.” JJ told you, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

You let out another pathetic whine, but conceded to her whims.

You closed your eyes to simply feel it, wondering how you would be able to cum like this. (Thinking that you wouldn’t.)

JJ continued to guide you across her thigh with determination and force.

You were getting wetter with each stroke, your body boiling in that slow burn, your thighs shaking every single time you were guided back enough for the stiffness of her muscles to graze your swollen clit. You continued on, your hips pushing deeper - knowing she wouldn’t let you break pace, pushing yourself down harder. You were simply enjoying the presence of her hands on you and the pure burn of her thigh between your legs as you bucked across her in those long, deep strokes.

“Please.” You started begging again. “Please, Mommy, please-”

“Such a needy girl.” JJ sighed - the tone of her voice almost bored - so light and airy, with none of her own lust showing through at all.

Though if you could have pried your eyes open for a second, you would have seen her icy irises almost completely chased out by her lust-blown pupils. You would have seen her looking at you with nothing but pure hunger - absolutely loving the show you were putting on for her as you became more desperate, as you stained her pants wetter and wetter as you went on.

“Mommy’s precious girl.” She hummed to herself.

You would have instantly seen through her calm facade. But you were far too distracted for that.

You were too caught up in your own head, too busy keeping up the long strokes of your hips for some friction on your cunt. You didn’t catch the wistful tone of her voice; you were too distracted to truly feel the way her thumb just barely brushed against the bandage sitting on your neck. You missed the way her eyes lingered on it - half glaring at the bandage, half glossy with unshed tears.

She was still burning with deep anger at the thought that anyone would be allowed to bring even the smallest amount of harm to something that belonged to her and still live. But she was also thankful to the high heavens that you had come out of the incident safe. So thankful that you were back in her arms.

“Mommy-” You croaked out again, your voice cracking with pure need, pulling JJ from her thoughts.

She shouldn’t be thinking of the filthy man who had almost hurt you. She should be thinking of ways she could bring you pleasure now - ways she could be thankful that you were still here, unharmed.

“Where do you need it, huh? Right here?” JJ replied, moving one of her hands to slot between your legs, just barely brushing her fingers against your clit.

This made your hips stutter, pushing toward her touch even more.

“Yes!” You breathed out desperately. “Yes, there! Please!”

JJ let out a gentle laugh, and this made you downright dizzy.

Before you could even comprehend it, you had been flipped onto your back - JJ taking advantage of the fact that your body was limp, lust-weakened and distracted. You were breathless as you looked up at her, now towering over you, so damn powerful with her hair billowing around her in a beautiful golden curtain. Her hands slid up your sides firmly while she leaned into you, pressing her knee into the naked rawness of your cunt - something that made you moan and clench your thighs tighter around her leg.

“Gonna give you just what you need, pretty girl.”

JJ rocked her knee against you a few times, enough to make you moan out brokenly. Before you could get any real friction from it, she moved away completely, leaving you breathless and even more needy.

And then, leaving your stomach flipping with anticipation - she descended downward, using a hair tie that she had around her wrist to put her hair into a messy bun before she positioned herself between your thighs. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she had in mind.

She took a hold of you by the backs of your knees and shoved your legs up toward your chest, bending you to her will. This made you vulnerable and open to anything she wanted from you as she dove in eagerly. The moment that her tongue made contact with your clit, you knew that you were done for.

(Like you always were exactly when she wanted you to be.)

“Mommy!” You cried out desperately.

Your back arched hard as you fisted the comforter of the still-made bed underneath you, quivering under her touch but unable to move as she kept you concretely in place. Her lips suctioning tightly around your clit and sucking for dear life, determined to make you cum as hard as possible now that she had teased you to this point.

“Fuck, Mommy! Oh, oh god!”

Your hip muscles quivered and you gasped hard, struggling to get air into your lungs as she furiously worked her tongue over you. The movements of her talented tongue causing sharp, hard shocks of pleasure to emanate out from that precious little point. It was all so perfect - the filthy slide of her spit mixing with your wetness, dripping down between your pussy lips, even gathering and dripping down along your asshole and lingering in a small puddle on the bed.

You were a mess - just as JJ wanted.

She dug her nails into the flesh on the backs of your thighs, making the muscles in your legs burn from holding the position. But you had nowhere to go, you could do nothing but sit there and take it as she sucked on your clit and tongued against you with vigor - giving you exactly what you had been begging for, making you mindless and dizzy as the pleasure became near painful in the most beautiful way.

“Mommy!” You gasped. “Mommy, fuck! Gonna-”

She cut off your words just as you were on the edge, pulling back with a wicked grin and just barely cutting off your orgasm. It made your whole body tense up in shock and caused your lungs to let out a shocked, disappointed whine. You bit your lip to keep from swearing or letting out any complaints - which you knew would only lead to a prolonged time before cumming with JJ in charge.

Instead, you stared at her with your best sad eyes, hoping she would take pity on you. She gathered a large glob of spit on her tongue and heaved it onto your clit, and the touch of this alone had your legs quivering harshly and caused you to let out another sharp moan.

“Please!” You began begging again, knowing that your voice was completely choked by desperation. “Please, please, please, please-” You didn’t breathe between the words, chanting with pure need until JJ shut you up.

“Shh, shh.” She hushed you, running her cheek along your inner thigh. “You need it that bad, huh?” She mocked you gently, and you echoed back a moan.

“Yes.” You confirmed, your voice warbling.

“Hey, look at me.” She hummed quietly.

Your head snapped toward her automatically, and then you were staring down those powerful eyes once again - greeted by her chin glistening with your juices, her messy hair half fallen out of the haste bun. Of course, she looked more gorgeous than ever.

JJ crept back up your body, letting go of one of your thighs and letting it relax, but keeping the other leg pinned up. She put her body weight against it now, putting your knee over her shoulder while she snuck her hand between your thighs as she leaned in to kiss you firmly. The taste of yourself on her lips was beautifully tangy, and you couldn’t help but to suck that taste off her tongue as she forced it between your lips.

She pulled away after a moment, pulling a moan from between your lips.

“Tell me that you’re never gonna do that again.” JJ whispered against your lips.

In your lust-wrecked state, you were confused.

“Huh?” You mumbled back.

“Tell me that you’re never going to volunteer as bait ever again.” JJ said, grinding out the word harshly. “You belong to me. And you need to be safe. So what I say - goes.”

Your pussy clenched at her words. You hadn’t realized how much you had truly worried her - how much you had upset her.

“I won’t do it again.” You murmured back, your voice partially lost in your throat. “I promise, Mommy. I won’t. I’m yours.”

JJ showed her satisfaction with your declaration by shoving two fingers into your well-slicked, wanting pussy. With no warning, she began pounding the digits in and out at a furious pace, sending your body into overdrive.

Still pinning your leg into place with her body, she moved her other hand down so that she could rub your clit in fast, hard strokes to make it all more intense.

In seconds, your pussy was once again throbbing, lit up and burning from the sensations while she fucked you hard and quick - driving you towards an orgasm at an intense, rapid pace.

You let out harsh pants against her mouth and her lips formed into a sharp smile, clearly pleased with herself for turning you into such a mess so quickly. She crooked her elbow so that she could fuck her fingers into you at a sharper angle - and it was only moments before you felt your stomach clenching up again, that telltale heat drawing across your thighs as your clit downright burned underneath her fingers.

“Please. Please, Mommy!” You begged, your throat scraping against the word now. “I need, I need - oh!”

She was actually feeling merciful this time, and continued to fuck you through it, finally bringing you to the orgasm that your body had been begging for all night.

But of course, she didn’t let up. She wasn’t going to stop there.

She leaned in and kissed you on the forehead, and you knew that you had a very long night ahead of you.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a standalone oneshot, and I will not be writing a follow up or a 'part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written. Also, please consider reblogging, because supporting fanfiction writers is important to keep fandoms going! If you liked this and you want to see more, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist for more of my work.

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