#<- new tag i'm excited about (though I need MORE)

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

it's always a weird feeling when a piece of media references A Tale of Two Cities out of the blue, especially older media since the frequent references in older works reveal that the plot & characters of the novel used to be so much more a part of common knowledge / pop culture than they are now

but it's still even more surreal when it happens in something as famous as Singin' in the Rain😳

bonus:

[xxchumanixx]

Beach Adventures

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary: Pedro takes the opportunity to fuck you at the beach.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni!, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), fingering, multiple orgasms (two), filthy talk, implied age gap (because, let's face it, we're all much younger than him), established relationship, porn without a plot

Word Count: 5.289

Authors Note: What. Did. I. Do. I don't know. But this video of Pedro? It sent me down a spiral I wasn't ready to be pushed down. This was living in my head rent-free since then, and i think it's time it does something for its stay! I hope you'll enjoy this. Never did anything for Pedro before, so this is kinda new. Also, it's been a while since I did smut, so, please, cut me some slack.

Enjoy!

You should have known he'd take that challenge - and succeed it.

Making you horny at the beach on your vacation? Yes.

Making you come on his fingers at the beach? Yes.

Fucking you at the public beach? Triple that yes.

Pedro sat in the reclined chair under the parasol at the beach, busy reading the book he had brought along for the Christmas holidays. You were sitting in a chair right beside his, bathing in the sun. He'd be lying if he said you weren't distracting him in your tiny swim suit.

You stretched a bit, the sun making you sleepy. "How's your book?" you asked, eyes still closed.

He chuckled softly at your comment, seeing as your eyes were still closed. Clearly you hadn't been paying attention to the world around you for a short moment. "It's alright. Very well written, but a little boring for my taste." he admitted, closing it for a brief moment just to admire the view of you in your swim suit. "How's... sun bathing going?"

You hummed. "Good." you said. "Though I'm sorry for the book. I know how excited you were about it."

He shook his head, waving it off almost immediately. He set the book to the side, turning his chair just a tiny bit to see you even better. "It's alright, babe. Can't like everything right?"  

You hummed once more. "That's true."

His hand moved up onto your leg, running up and down your thigh absentmindedly. It was a very subtle move, but clearly, he was in need of some entertainment.

"Are you getting sun burnt yet? You've been laying there for a while - I'd hate for you to turn red later.” he mused.

You snorted under your breath. "I have some very good sunscreen." you told him. "Don't worry. I can still turn onto my front if you're scared, though."

He chuckled. Despite the fact he was enjoying the view of you lying there, he'd much rather see you on your stomach anyway. Less... distracting. "Oh yes, that would be much better. Don't wanna miss any spot while applying more sunscreen you know, gotta make sure everything is covered in SPF."

You hummed, turning onto your stomach. "You're absolutely right." you mumbled.

The sun felt so nice. It was a nice distraction from everything. Holidays meant no work, no events or galas to attend to. No dressing up, no socializing. Just Pedro, a couple friends, and you.

His eyes scanned you up and down, admiring your naked back and how the thin straps of your swim suit kept you from being completely exposed. Pedro didn't mind, he could easily pull those tiny strings...

He leaned forward, a small smirk forming on his face. His hand moved up and down your naked back, touching the smooth skin.  

You sighed, relaxing into the chair.  

He chuckled softly at your reaction, enjoying the fact he could get a reaction out of you just by touching your skin. He moved his fingers to the straps of your swim suit, pulling it a little.  

"Would you mind if I took the straps off? So I could apply the sunscreen everywhere?" he wanted to know. 

You repressed a snort. Right, for the sunscreen. "No, go ahead."  

He smirked as you agreed. He was going to have a lot of fun here. His fingers moved around your body, pulling the straps off of it, exposing you almost completely. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of it in the process. 

He grabbed the lotion, squirting a bunch of it into his hand, before slowly spreading it across your soft skin, covering you in sunscreen from the top of your neck all the way down your back.  

"Pedro?" you mumbled his name. "Are we gonna go to that little bar we saw yesterday, later? It looked really nice."  

He raised an eyebrow absentmindedly, his hands continuing to move across your body. He was just getting to your lower back now, massaging the sunscreen into your skin, not realizing you were talking at first until he heard you say his name once more.  

"Hm?" He hummed, snapping out of the trance he had been in for the past few minutes. "Bar? Yeah, we can do that. I could use a few drinks and some music."  

"Everything okay?" you asked, though you already knew what was going through his head. Being an actor meant for him being very busy and on the run most of the time, which left little time for... other activities.  

Chuckling, Pedro leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lower back, not caring about the sunscreen he’d just applied there. He couldn't help it, you just looked so good, completely exposed for him to see and touch...  

"I'm perfect, baby. Just got a little... distracted. That's all." He moved up onto his knees a bit, his hands slipping a bit further down your body. "We should go somewhere a little more... private, though."

You snorted softly. "Why?" you asked. "The sun's feeling so nice."  

He chuckled, continuing to spread the sunscreen across your body, until he was on your legs. Once on the tops of your legs, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to one thigh and then the other.  

"You know exactly why, baby.” he mumbled into your skin. “You don't need your thighs exposed to the world, not when I can take my time with you in private..."  

"Didn't you do that this morning already?" you mused. The morning had indeed been... busy, causing you and Pedro to miss breakfast. 

He hummed. Yes, they did do some... things earlier that day, but that felt like ages ago, and not nearly enough to satisfy him completely.  

"I don't need a reason to enjoy your body again.” he gave back. “Or an excuse, for that matter. You should know that by now, mi amor."  

"Oh, I do." you sighed. "Why do you think I brought this swimsuit?"

Snickering, he ran his hands up and down every soft curve of your body. “You mean this little thing?" He tugged on the fabric of your top, enjoying how little it covered. "I do love it. Almost too much, darling...”

You chuckled quietly at his words. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his eyes traveling the length of your body once more. "It looks so... good.” he mumbled dreamily. “Really reveals your curves. I love it." His hands ran up and down your legs now, taking his time to caress your smooth skin. His touch on your thighs almost lingered just a bit longer than necessary.

"I'm glad." you mumbled. "Picked it just for you, mi amor."

He hummed happily as you called him that, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs and then up to the tiny fabric strip of your swimsuit in the middle. He tugged on it a little as if testing your limits.

"You're trying to kill me here, aren't you?" he asked.

You grinned softly. "Only a bit."

He chuckled, continuing to tease you with his touch. His hand reached over, picking up the lotion again, before squeezing some onto your thighs, spreading it across your soft skin.

"You're gonna end up going to that bar with a little... problem, if you keep this up.“ Pedro murmured.

You huffed. "What problem?"

Chuckling again, he continued to spread the lotion, moving further and further up your legs, until his knuckles were brushing against your bikini bottoms.

"Oh, I think you're smart enough to figure that one out, mi vida. Unless, of course, you want me to explain myself?"

"Please do." you breathed out, though knowing exactly what he meant. "Wouldn't wanna risk a misunderstanding."

He smirked, his hand moving just a little higher up and around your body. Then, very subtly, he moved his finger against the front of your bikini bottoms, pressing it right against the sensitive area there, not doing much, just touching.

"I think you know exactly what's about to happen if you push me a little further, darling."

You swallowed, heat rising up your spine. "You sure?" you asked, keeping your voice steady. "‘Cause I'm not."

He chuckled. You were testing him, challenging him. It excited him, though, knowing you wanted to see how far he'd go. He didn't mind showing you one bit.

"You're a naughty little tease." he breathed out, slowly applying pressure to your sweet clit with his finger, rubbing it gently and teasingly through the fabric, just to see your reaction.

You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your hips from moving. "Am I?" you asked. "And here I thought that part was yours, old man."

He smirked at you calling him old, knowing fully well by now that was only for the purpose of riling him up. He loved it.

"Old man? That ain't very nice, darling." He mused, rubbing over your clit a little rougher. He was trying to find your limits, testing your patience.

"Ain't it?" you breathed out, the slightest bit of strain to your voice. "Just stating facts. You're older than me, I was told to show respect to my elders."

He snickered. "Elders aren't the same as old men, mi amor.“ he said. „I don't think you're showing much respect here. Not with the way you're teasing me, at least.“

"Not doing it on purpose." you tried to defend yourself, though it was a clear lie. "Maybe a little."

He smirked, continuing to rub your clit. Slowly, but surely, rubbing a little faster every time he moved his finger. He loved teasing you too, just to see when you'd give in.

"A little? You're doing it on purpose entirely, mi vida. You love to tease me, and you enjoy every second doing it." he gave back, brows furrowing slightly.

You bit your cheek, a strangled breath leaving your lips. "Just tryna test your durability." you said. "Fifteen years aren't nothing, baby."

Pedro chuckled, continuing is ministrations on your clit before moving his fingers across the edge of your bikini bottoms, teasing you with the idea of slipping them underneath them. He knew you couldn't last much longer, but you knew he was just as weak as you were.

"Hmm, you mean you doubt my durability, darling? Is that what you're trying to say here?" His voice was low, his words barely above a whisper.

You bit your lip. "I'm just tryna look out for you, Josè." you said. "Can't have you getting bored with me."

He chuckled and bit his lip, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "Oh, I could never get bored with you. Not after seeing you like this, mi amor. So beautiful, so... desirable." Moving his fingers back to your clit, he added a little more pressure, just enough to send a jolt through your body. "And that's why you won't ever have me get bored in the first place.“ he added.

"Hngh- that's good to know." you pressed out, inhaling shakily. "You're being mean, Pedro."

He chuckled, his touch getting more intense the longer he continued. He loved to tease you like this, loved the way you reacted to his touch. He knew he was close to breaking you. All he had to do was push you just a little bit further.

"Oh, I'm being mean, am I?“ he mused. „Well, maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to tease an old man like me, darling."

You scoffed. "That's not fair."

He smiled, leaning closer to your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. "Not fair?“ he echoed, his hot breath fanning against your skin. „It's not fair that you tease me, knowing what it does to me. And it's not fair that you keep testing me, just to see where I break, when we both know damn well that you aren't lasting much longer either.“

You bit your cheek. "We're at the beach." you breathed out.

He smiled, whispering against your skin, his hand running the risk of pushing your bikini bottoms to the side once more, but not quite getting there yet. He loved the reactions he was getting out of you so far, he loved the way you breathed faster, the way you squirmed. He loved it.

"No one's nearby.“ he mumbled. „They're all more towards the entrance of the beach, mi vida. We've got the corner all to ourselves..."

You huffed quietly. "Still wanna go to that private place?"

Pedro pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hand moving across the crotch of your bikini bottoms. He was testing your limits.

"A private place would be nice, yes." he whispered to you. "Or we could stay right here, see how far you'll let me go...“

You swallowed, heat rising farther up your body. "That was the purpose of the question, Pedro.“ you gave back, doing your best not to squeeze your thighs together.

Pedro’s fingers found your clit again, slowly beginning to move them in circles once more. He whispered into your ear, his voice low, rough.

„I just want you to admit it, mi vida... Are you desperate for me, darling? Do you need me as much as I need you right now?"

"Always, Pedro." you breathed out. "You know that."

He chuckled, gently kissing your neck again. That admission from you was more than enough for him. He knew you needed him just as bad as he needed you. Without warning, his fingers moved the fabric of your bottoms to the side, his fingertips brushing against your bare, sensitive folds.

"How much do you want me, mi vida?” he whispered. “You need my touch? Need it so bad you're letting me do this right here in public?"

You swallowed thickly, the wetness pooling between your legs intensifying. "Yes, Pedro." you breathed out. "So much."

He hummed happily at your words, pleased with your response. He pushed a single finger inside of you, though not moving it yet.

"You'll need to stay quiet for me, mi amor.“ he murmured. „We wouldn't want anyone to see us, after all. Could you do that, darling?"

You bit your lip, leaning your forehead against the backrest as you let out a strangled breath. "Sure."

Pedro chuckled, moving his finger slowly in and out of you, eliciting a broken moan to spill from your lips. His movement was steady, but he didn't want to rush things just yet. You had time.

"Are you sure you can stay quiet?“ he wondered out loud. „Because you're not being all too quiet right now, mi amor. Just imagine what the others would think if they saw you right now... You're not as good at holding in your sweet little noises as you think you are."

You breathed shakily. "Yes, Pedro." you mumbled as your spine seemed to liquefy to lava. "I can.”

He smiled, chuckling softly in your ear. He knew you couldn't, he knew you would break eventually. But damn if it wasn't fun to tease you like this. He pressed a kiss to your neck.

"We shall see, mi amor. We shall see..."

His finger kept moving, steadily getting faster and rougher as he went along. Continuing to listen to you for now, he paid attention to any noise, any whimpers, or even the smallest of moans you let out.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. White hot pleasure nipped at your nerve endings, want and desire swirling through you.

Pedro knew what he had to do. He moved his finger faster, pressing his lips to your neck, moving up and down the sensitive skin there.

„That’s it, mi vida. Just focus on your breathing.“ he whispered to you, his movements not stopping anytime soon. „Good, good. Just breathe…“ 

You squirmed, feeling lightheaded already. „Pedro.“ you breathed out. „You’re not helping.“ 

„I know.“ he whispered, his lips pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear. He was enjoying getting this reaction out of you, enjoying this game of his. 

„But I want to see how bad you need Me. How bad you’re craving my touch.” He pressed a kiss to your neck again. „You’re holding out longer than I expected you to, mi amor. Maybe you deserve a little more?“ 

„Please, Pedro.“ you breathed out. For someone so innocent looking he clearly wasn’t. 

He chuckled softly to your begging, amused by your submission to him. He hadn’t expected you to break that quickly. But now that he had you so desperate, begging him… Who was he to deny you, mi amor? 

„You’re doing so good, mi vida. So good for me.“ he whispered to you, moving his finger inside of you faster for a second, before pulling it out and moving it up. He found your sweet nub again, rubbing against it before he started moving his fingertips in figure eights, adding pressure as he went. 

You drew in a sharp breath, hips bucking almost automatically into his hand as more heat crept up your spine. You whimpered, desperately trying to keep quiet. Maybe it hadn’t been your best idea to do this out here. 

He grinned against your neck, enjoying the reaction he got out of you. You were so perfect, so responsive to his touch. To him. He loved it, loved the way you bucked your hips into his hand, trying to get more, the way you whimpered so quietly, trying to keep it in. 

„Shhh, mi amor. Remember you need to stay quiet. You don’t want the people nearby knowing what we’re doing.” he reminded you. As if he had to. “Do you?“ 

You huffed. Or the press. That’d be a headliner, though. Pedro Pascal fucking his younger girlfriend at the public beach. „I know...“ you groaned. Your hips already ached, the coil inside of you winding tighter and tighter. 

„Don’t let out too much more noise, mi amor.” Pedro said, his tone almost a whine as his strong facade crumbled. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer if you keep whining and whimpering like that." 

You whined on purpose, biting your lip, hard. Fuck! you thought. He was driving you right towards the edge of sweet bliss. 

Pedro heard the whine, knowing that meant he was pushing you closer to the edge. He couldn’t hold back anymore, he was too excited and needed you just as bad as you needed him. He gently bit down on your exposed neck, hard enough to leave a mark, causing you to hiss. 

„Hush, mi amor.” he whispered, tongue brushing over the mark. “We’re still in public. Hold back the cute little noises you’re making and I promise, I give you whatever you want later.” 

„Please, Pedro.“ you whimpered, squirming underneath him. „Need you now.“ 

He chuckled in your ear, enjoying your begging. He was getting close to losing control, losing any sense of decency. But he wanted to get you off before he took care of himself, wanting to see you finish first. Hearing you whimper had him losing his composure, so desperate to do it right then and there. 

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, leaving you trembling as you teetered on the edge, gasping for air. „Pedro,“ you breathed out. „I- I’m-” 

He smiled as he heard the desperate way you were begging for him, knowing you were close, and he didn’t dare stop now. 

„Shhh, mi vida. I know… I know you’re close, mi amor.“ he whispered soothingly, wanting to send you over the edge. „Don’t hold it back, mi amor. I‘ve got you. Let go.“ 

You squirmed, drawing in a shaky breath before you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your mouth with your hand as you came, violently clenching around nothing. Your body trembled, hips bucking wildly. 

He could still hear the sweet little whimpers leaving your throat as you came for him. Just hearing you like that almost sent him over the edge on its own, his own breathing heavy in your ear as he helped bring you back down from the high. 

„That’s it, mi amor. Good, good. You did so good for me, mi amor.” 

You gasped for air, trying to steady yourself. Fuck. 

He pulled his hand away, letting you catch your breath for a bit., moving his hands back up to your thighs. He wasn’t done with you yet. „You did such a good job holding back your sweet litle moans, mi amor.“ he whispered to you, leaning down and pressing small kisses to your neck. „Now I think you deserve a little more.” 

You swallowed, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck you into oblivion already. „Please...“ 

He pressed more kisses to your neck, his hands moving back to the edge of your bikini bottoms, tugging at them. „Please what, mi amor?“ he teased. “You need to tell me, darling. Use your words.” 

„Please fuck me, Pedro.“ you breathed out, not caring how desperate you sounded. You’d go crazy if he wouldn’t be inside of you soon. 

„There you go, mi amor.“ he mumbled, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin, fingers slowly pulling your bikini bottoms to the side once more, exposing you further to him. He loved the sight. He’d never get tired of it.  

„That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.“ he mumbled, leaning down a bit, pressing a kiss to the top of your spine before moving his hands and cupping your ass, squeezing slightly. 

Another sight he’d never grow tired of. He groaned quietly as you wiggled underneath him impatiently, your ass swaying with every movement. Yet he was just as impatient. Pulling his swimming trunks down enough to free his throbbing cock, he gave it a few pumps. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t already been leaking into his trunks as he’d taken care of you. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” he mumbled, using his precum to lubricate himself. 

„I’ll be quiet.“ you gave back. „I promise.” 

„Good girl.“ he mumbled, positioning himself, before slowly and gently beginning to rub his aching length against your glistening folds, letting the friction build up for a few moments. 

You suppressed a moan, inhaling shakily. He was riling you up and you loved and hated it. 

He smiled, moving his hips just a bit faster. 

„You’re being very quiet, mi amor.” he mused. “Are you actually serious about keeping your promise?“ 

„Yes.“ you breathed out, eyes fluttering. „Yes, mi amor.“ 

Humming happily, he moved his hips again, a subtle hint that he was going to push in, if you were ready. You pushed your ass further up, as good as it was possible in your position. 

„I’m going to hold you to that promise, darling.“ he whispered, his hand gripping onto your hip a bit tighter. 

With one final movement, he finally pushed inside, stretching you oh so deliciously. He moved his fingers back onto your hip to steady you, whilst he sank further and further into your warmth, hissing as your velvety walls clenched and fluttered around him in response. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with a gasp as he split you open. Fuck, so big. You would never get used to his girth, no matter how often he’d fuck you. 

He listened to your reaction, enjoying the way you gasped with a small grin. He always loved to hear you like this, cherishing the moment he’d sink into you. He rarely did it fast, too greedy for the way you reacted, nearly sucking him in. 

„Pussy’s so good to me.” he mumbled, his breath hot against your neck.  He wanted this to last for a while, but he didn’t know how long he could hold out.  

You shivered at his words, clenching around him. He hissed in return, huffing a breathy chuckle. He knew you did it on purpose, and damn if he didn’t love it. 

Slowly, he started moving his hips, trying to be gentle and not rock the chair – or worse, topple it over. It wouldn’t have been the first time, yet he didn’t need it to happen right here where everyone could see. 

He moved slow, wanting to enjoy this, every gasp, every whimper that left your lips. „You're so good for me, mi vida.” he breathed out, hips rutting into you a bit faster. “Pussy’s been made for my cock, huh?”

You clenched around him, sighing his name. “Only for you, baby.”  

A soft moan left his mouth as he felt you clench around him once more. „So sweet and eager for me.” 

He thrust a little harder, faster, effectively fucking the thoughts of other people possibly seeing you out of your head. Leaning closer, his chest brushed your back as he angled his hips to push deeper. 

You moaned quietly, his name leaving your parted lips. „More, please, Pedro.” you whimpered. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck, grinning against your skin as he heard you moan his name again. As you asked for more, he moved a little faster, his hand slipping farther down your body. 

„That’s it, mi amor… Moan my name for me.“ he whispered, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. He could tell he was getting close already, but he wanted to be absolutely certain you were getting what you needed first. Not that he had any doubts that you were enjoying every second of this, considering your whimpers and sounds, but he wanted to make sure. 

„Let me know when you’re close, mi amor. Want you to finish before me.“ he breathed into your ear, teeth tugging on it lightly. 

You clenched around him once more at his words. Always so considerate. „I will“ you breathed out in a whimper. „Want you to come inside of me. Want your cum dripping outta me, Pedro.” 

He moaned hearing your words. Hearing you telling him exactly what you wanted was just so damn exciting, so hot… it pushed him right towards the edge. 

„Anything you want, mi amor.” he promised. “Will give you anything you want, mi vida. Anything you need.“ 

His movements were getting rougher now, not bothering to hold back from you anymore. He didn’t need to. He could trust you, he knew you wouldn’t give them away to anyone. He just knew. And that allowed him to forget about everything else, just focus on you and this moment right there. 

„Do you need more, mi amor? Are you getting close, mi vida?“ he wanted to know. 

You whimpered in return. „More, please?“ you asked. „Your fingers, please, Pedro. Can feel you twitching already.” 

He growled against your skin, wrapping his arm around your chest, holding you firmly, so he could use his other hand for you. „That’s it. That’s my good, sweet girl. Asking for what you want, being so desperate for me. I like that, mi amor. I’Il give you what you need.“ he mumbled directly Into your ear, the words sending chills through your body as you listened to them. 

„Move your lower half up for me a little, so I can take care of you, mi amor.“ 

You did as you were told, lifting your hips a little. 

Pedro hummed happily feeling you move, giving him a better angle. He was pretty certain that nobody from the beach would be able to see anything from here, and he didn’t care either. All he cared about right now was you and that you needed him. His hand slid down your body, feeling down your stomach for a moment, until it was able to move the fabric of your bottoms aside once more. His fingertips found your sweet clit, rubbing over it in small, quick movements, wanting to please you. Sure, he could have taken his time, could have made you come on his cock alone, but he didn’t know how much time you had until someone would question what was going on under your parasol. He wanted to make sure you felt good, and make sure you’d reach your peek. 

You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gasped, hoping no one would hear you. 

„Shhh, mi amor, you’re being so good.” he praised you. “Being so quiet. Such a good girl for me. But I know you’re close.“ He moved his hips a little rougher, moving them in a steady, quick pace now, matching his fingers. He was getting close, and he was starting to get desperate, but he never forgot about your needs. 

Moving his fingertips in quick, small circles, he knew it would almost certainly send you over the edge. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last, but he didn’t care. It was all about you, about making you feel good.  

The pleasure was mind numbing, the way he fucked you always so good. It didn't take long for you to teeter on the edge.

You stiffened slightly in his hold, hiding your face in the backrest of the chair as the coil tightened, and you fell apart, desperately trying to muffle any sounds.  

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he heard you finally let go, falling apart for him. It was an amazing sight when he was able to make you finish, and he loved it. Just then though, he was unable to hold back. You clenching around him, your noises you tried to keep quiet… He finally gave in, coming inside of you, gasping into your ear as he breathed your name over and over again.   

You whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Perfect, just perfect. 

He pressed kisses to your neck, trying to catch his breath, still holding you against his chest. He needed you close, he just needed to feel you against him, needed to be close to you right in that moment. You grounded him like no one else did.

„I love the way you sound when you come for me, darling.” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s so sweet and perfect. The sounds you make... I love them. I love every part of you…” 

You smiled, still trying to calm your breathing „I love you, Pedro.“ you breathed out, exhausted.  

He chuckled softly into your neck, holding you close against his chest and kissing your neck a couple times. „I love you too, mi vida. So much. You’re perfect.“ 

He slowly pulled out, pulling your bottoms back into place. As much as he would have loved to just stay there with you, he knew they eventually had to move. He had no intention of leaving you anytime soon though. He was happy here on the beach. 

You whimpered involuntarily when he pulled out, sighing deeply as you sank further into the chair. „You’re too good to me, Pedro.“ you mumbled. „Leaving me full of your cum.“ 

He chuckled into your neck, loving how you spoke to him. He was already addicted enough to you, but hearing you using such filthy words... He pressed another kiss to your neck, his own breathing still a little heavy. „I’II always take care of you, mi amor. And I love taking care of you, especially in this way… I can’t deny you what you need, especially when I’m getting something out of it too.“ 

You huffed a chuckle. „Sounds just fair.“ 

He smiled, holding you in his arms, just enjoying the moment before anything else. „It does sound fair, doesn’t it?“ he mumbled. „There is one disadvantage to this, though.“  

You frowned, turning your head so your cheek rested against the backrest. „What is it?“  

He moved his head a little bit, leaning it against yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. „I'm not going to be able to let you wander around this beach again wearing just this without thinking of what I’m going to do to you in this seat again.“ 

[5sospenguinqueen]

Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader

Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2024 but some events switched around 

I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.

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YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems   tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend

6,883 comments

User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed 

charles_leclerc ❤️💛

charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo

→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char

→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved

→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you 

→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy 

lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles

→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together

→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend

→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend! 

→ charles_leclerc wait, no

→ User2 the prettiest girlfriend

User3 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple

→ User4 they always look so infatuated with each other 

→ User5 umm, how? she's literally never at races 

→ User6 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not

→ User7 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall 

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo  tagged: YourUserName

12,298 comments

YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️

User8 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-l/n. he truly is their child

roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s 

→ User9 roscoe-leo play date when please

→ User10 not until 2025 😂

User11 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum

→ User12 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods 

pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one

→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend 

User13 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next

→ YourUserName oscar

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User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad 

User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her. 

User3 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is 

User4 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?

→ User5 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way 

User6 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though

User7 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world 

→ User8 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further 

User9 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman

→ User10 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on

User11 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one

→ User12 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics 

User13 i miss them already 

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User1 oh god, it’s official

User2 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour 

User3 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles 

→ User4 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept 

User5 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce 

liked by OllieBearman

User6 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?

→ User7 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?

User8 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :( 

User9 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)

→ User10 may all your delulus come trululu

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others 

YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing

3,880 comments

YourBestFriend this barbies practices law

→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults

→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol 

→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one

lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these! 

→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart? 

arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine 

→ YourUserName i’m not that bad! 

→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls

→ landonorris betrayal! 

User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it

YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?

→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n l/n

→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line 

User4 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave 

→ User5 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is 

→ User6 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams

carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼

→ User7 not sainz being messy on main

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week. 

8,449 comments

User9 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm

→ User10 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl 

→ User11 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life 

User12 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend 

→ User13 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this 

→ User14 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it 

User15 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week

→ User16 also it means that his parents will be conversing 

User17 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together 

Baby Fever Angst Series

(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Swim - ROUGH ♡

SUMMARY / Your husband comes home angry, so you let him take it out on you.

warnings ✩ SMUT, DOM/SUB dynamics, established relationship (you're married with kids), hard!dom seonghwa, fem!reader, sub!reader, light masochism & sadism, degradation, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, reader is left with bruises, SAFEWORDS!!

word count ✩ 2,64k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @kitten4sannie

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

The door slammed shut with a bang, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet house. You paused, your hand hovering over the half-folded laundry. The vibration of the slam traveled through the wooden floorboards and up your spine, setting your nerves on edge. You knew that tone.

"Hwa? Is that you?" you put the laundry into the basket in front of you and carry it out of the bedroom, the scent of fresh fabric softener a stark contrast to the tension in the air.

"Mhm." he answered dryly, slamming his bag on the ground. You could see his shoulders tense from the kitchen doorway. The light from the setting sun cast an orange glow over him, highlighting his furrowed brow and clenched fists.

"Oh," you sit the basket on the ground and push it toward the wall, walking over and running a hand along his chest. "What happened, baby?"

He sighs, his body language speaking volumes. "It was a bad day at work. The boss was on my back, deadlines everywhere. I couldn't catch a break."

"I'm sorry." you caress his cheek, feeling the stubble scrape against your palm. His eyes, usually a soft brown, were now cold and distant. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No, talking about it won't change a thing." His jaw was set in a firm line, his voice laced with frustration. You knew this wasn't just about work. It was about feeling powerless, about the weight of the world pressing down on him. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping to offer some comfort, but he remained stiff.

"Well," you sigh. "Is there anything else you think could help?"

He turns to face you, his eyes searching your own. For a moment, you hold your breath, waiting for his response. His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and his grip tightens. "I just need to let it out," he says, his voice low and gruff. You can see the storm clouds gathering in his gaze, and you know what he means.

You tilt your head. "Yeah?" you pull at the buttons on his shirt. "How do you want to do that?"

His eyes drop to your neck, his gaze intense. "I want to take it out on you."

You bite your lip. This wasn't new, but it still made your heart race. "You can,"

He smirked and gently ran his fingers through your hair, tilting your face up to meet his. "But you have to be a good girl and do exactly as I say, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. This was the dynamic you'd agreed to, the one that gave him relief and you a sense of purpose. It had started out as a way to ease his stress, but over time, it had grown into something more, a part of your lives you kept hidden from the outside world.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Take your shirt off." His voice was firm but not harsh, and you obeyed, letting the fabric fall to the floor. His eyes roved over your body, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze grew hungry. You knew he wasn't seeing you as his wife anymore, but as a canvas for his anger and frustration.

You stepped closer, pressing yourself against him. His hands slid down your back, and his fingers dug into your skin, the pain sending a thrill through your body. You liked this side of him, liked the way he took control when he needed to. You craved it, even though you knew it wasn't healthy.

"Wait-" you squeak out. "The bed. We should go to the bedroom." You didn't want the neighbors to hear, and the last thing you needed was your kids walking in on this scene.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. You both knew the routine by heart. The living room was off-limits, the bedroom was the only place where this part of your relationship unfolded. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, his grip tight enough to leave an imprint.

He walked into the bedroom and threw you onto the bed, kicking the door closed behind him. The mattress bounced under your weight, and you landed with a gasp. He towered over you, his eyes dark with the need to dominate. You felt the heat between your legs, the anticipation building. This was what he needed, what you both needed.

Without a word, he started to unbuckle his belt. The sound was like a gun cocking in the quiet room, and your heart hammered in your chest. You lay there, your eyes locked on his, as he slid the leather through the loops. The belt came free with a snap, and he held it up, the metal gleaming in the soft light.

"You remember what I said before?" His voice was a low growl, the kind that made your knees tremble. You nodded, your eyes never leaving the belt. "Then what did I say."

"You said I should do exactly as you tell me." You whispered, your voice shaking slightly.

He nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Good girl." He approached the bed, the belt swinging from his hand. "Take off the rest of your clothes."

You complied, your hands shaking as you unzipped your jeans and slid them off, along with your panties. He watched with a mix of anger and desire, his eyes raking over your naked body. The cool air of the room made your skin pebble with goosebumps, but the heat of his gaze kept you warm. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but also incredibly turned on.

He steps closer angrily, his breathing heavy, and you can see the rage in his eyes, but also the arousal. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you whole. You lie there, trembling slightly, your eyes on the belt. You know it's going to sting, but you also know that the pain will bring him the release he craves, and with it, the peace that follows.

He grabs you by the neck and lifts you off the bed, his grip tight but not choking. You stand before him, naked and trembling, as he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your body. His hand slides down your throat to your chest, squeezing a breast, his thumb circling your hardened nipple. You gasp, your eyes fluttering closed.

"The prettiest little whore," he murmured, his voice a mix of anger and desire. He threw you back onto the bed, the mattress squeaking in protest. You bounced and landed with a gasp, your body ready for his wrath.

"Spread your legs," he commands, and you obey, feeling the coldness of the sheets against your thighs. He climbs onto the bed, straddling you, the belt now lying on the bedside table. His weight pins you down, and you can feel his erection pressing against your stomach. He runs his hand down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His touch is rough, but it doesn't scare you. You know he won't go too far.

He reaches between your legs, his fingers sliding through your wetness. You moan, arching your back. His eyes narrow, and he smirks. "So eager," he says, his voice thick with lust. He withdraws his hand and brings it up to his mouth, tasting you. The sight sends a bolt of arousal straight to your core.

"H-Hwa, just-" he immediately pressed his hand against your neck, his other slapping you across the cheek.

"What's my name?" he growled, his hand tightening around your throat. The pressure was just enough to cut off your breath, but not enough to make you pass out. You knew the rules, knew the power dynamics at play. You swallowed hard.

"Daddy," you whispered, your voice hoarse. It was the trigger word, the one that flipped the switch in him from your husband to the dominant figure you both needed in these moments. His eyes darkened further, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your breast, his thumb pinching the nipple until you gasped.

Suddenly, he flipped you over and grabbed your arms, pinning them to your back. You felt the mattress shift beneath you as he straddled your hips, the weight of him pressing down on you. You could feel your heart racing, the anticipation making you wetter. He brought his hand down in a sharp crack across your ass, and you yelped, your body jolting. The pain was immediate, a searing heat that radiated from the point of impact.

"My bitch," he pushes his boxers down. "Treating you like a fucking cumdump and yet you're soaking wet for it," His coarse words sting but the pain is quickly overshadowed by the thrill of his touch as he enters you, hard and fast, without any preamble. You bite the pillow to muffle your cries, your body adjusting to the sudden intrusion. Each thrust is a punishment for your earlier transgression, each one driving the tension deeper into your soul.

He grabs a handful of your hair and pushes your face into the pillow, keeping your hips raised. His thrusts are punishing, his anger and frustration manifesting in the power behind each stroke. You can feel him taking his anger out on you, using your body as an outlet for the rage that's been festering inside him all day. And despite the pain, you find yourself craving more, needing the release that only comes with his dominance.

His hand connected with your ass once again, the sound echoing in the room. You moaned into the pillow, the sting mixing with the pleasure of his rough penetration. Each slap sent waves of heat through your body, heightening your arousal.

"Fucking bitch," he muttered, his hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. "God, your pussy feels so good. Fits me just perfectly." His words were a mix of anger and lust, and they only served to make you wetter. You pushed back against him, meeting his punishing strokes with your own desperation.

He reached down and slapped your ass again, the sound ringing through the room. You gasped, the pain a sweet symphony that only served to fuel your desire. His grip tightened in your hair, and he pulled your head back, forcing you to look at him. "You like that, don't you?" His eyes searched yours, looking for the truth. You nodded, unable to form words around the pillow.

"When I ask you something, answer me." he growled. He let go of your hair and grabbed your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your eyes water. "Do you like it when Daddy punishes you?"

"Y-Yes-!" you gasp, your voice muffled by the pillow. The pressure on your neck sends a fresh wave of arousal through your body, and you push back against him, your ass meeting his thighs with a smack. He grunts in approval, his strokes becoming more erratic, more intense. You can feel him losing control, his movements growing sloppier as his anger turns to passion.

"Yeah, baby. You're such a fucking whore," he chuckles, groaning after. "Letting me take your pretty little pussy like this. Like you're made just for me to use." He slaps your ass again, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the room. You moan louder, your body begging for more.

He slams into you harder, the sound of his hips smacking against your skin filling the space between your cries. The pain is a sweet release for both of you, a dance of dominance and submission that you've both come to crave. You feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely, the friction of each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your core.

He lifted your head by the neck once again, forcing you to look at him as he thrust into you. "You're going to take all of it, aren't you?" His voice was strained, the veins in his neck standing out as he neared his climax. You nodded, your eyes glazed over with desire. The pain in your ass from the belt and the pressure on your throat melded with the fullness inside you, creating a symphony of sensations that had you on the edge.

"You're going to come with me, baby, okay?" His voice was a mix of a question and a command. You nodded again, your eyes pleading. He reached around and began to rub your clit, the pressure building. You could feel his orgasm approaching, his grip on your neck tightening.

With a final slap to your ass, he releases your throat. You gulp in air, the oxygen rushing to your head. "Now," he grunts, his hand moving faster. You can feel yourself climbing towards the edge, your muscles tensing. He slaps your ass once more, the sting pushing you over. You scream into the pillow, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you.

"Yeah, let it out, bitch." His voice was a harsh whisper, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. His hand on your neck tightened, his other hand still rubbing your clit in a relentless rhythm. You felt his cock swell inside you, the head of it hitting your g-spot with each punishing thrust. The pressure grew unbearable, your orgasm building like a volcano ready to erupt.

"D-Daddy, I'm-" You gasped out, your body tightening around him.

"Come for Daddy," he growled, his hips slamming into yours. "Come now."

You felt your orgasm crest, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. A scream tore from your throat, muffled by the pillow. Your body arched off the bed, your toes curling as waves of pleasure washed over you. His hand squeezed your neck, and you felt his cock pulse inside you, hot cum filling you up. He grunted, his muscles tensing as he emptied himself into you, the warmth of his release mixing with the sticky wetness of your own climax.

"Yeah…" he panted, grabbing a handful of your hair with his other hand still rubbing small circles over your clit.

"V-Vanilla…" you whispered your safe word, the word that signaled the end of the scene. It was the only time you ever used it, when it was all too much, when the pain overwhelmed the pleasure. His movements stopped abruptly, his body tensing for a moment before he rolled off of you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of distress.

"It's okay, you're okay." he pushes your hair out of your face, his eyes softening from their earlier ferocity. You take deep breaths, feeling your body slowly come down from the intense high. The sting in your neck and ass starts to fade, leaving behind a warm glow of satisfaction. You roll over onto your side, curling up into a ball.

"Jesus, I bruised you." he mumbled. You glanced at the bruises on your skin and giggle slightly. It's part of the deal. You liked the marks, the evidence of his power over you. "You okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

You nod, still panting. "Yeah. That was… intense," you murmur, your voice still shaky. You felt a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over you. The anger that had been brewing inside him was now gone, replaced by a gentle tenderness as he brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your forehead.

"I'll start your bath," he said softly, getting off the bed and walking towards the en suite bathroom. You watched his naked form as he disappeared into the steam, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. The sound of running water filled the room, the scent of your favorite lavender bath salts soon mingling with the sweat and sex in the air.

[zepskies]

Headcanon: When You're Having His Child...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: This one is requested by @cevansbaby-dove, and is kind of a continuation of this imagine: When you have morning sickness.

Tags/Warnings: Potential fluff overload.

HC: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor.

Dean Winchester

Oh, sweet man...

Dean does the thing where he pretends he has his shit together.

He's really trying, for your sake, for his own, and to save face around Sam and Eileen and Jody and everyone else in the hospital waiting room.

They can see it, and he knows it: he's freaking the hell out.

When he's in the room with you, he's either helping you, holding your hand, waiting for you to be dilated enough to start the whole "having a baby" process, or pacing around on those bowlegs, occasionally dragging a hand over his mouth in that telltale nervous gesture.

"Babe, come 'ere," you say with strain. That last contraction really took it out of you. "You're making me even more nervous than I already am."

Dean goes to you and smooths a hand over your hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. How're you holding up?"

Tears well up in your eyes, but you try to breathe through it. You're overwhelmed, you're in pain, and you've been in labor for several hours already.

"We're ready for this, right?" you ask, squeezing his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed and makes sure you look him in the eyes.

"We're about to find out," he says, with a bit of teasing. But his gaze is steady when he brings your hand up to his lips. "You don't gotta worry about anything. I'm gonna be with you, come whatever, okay?"

You smile, because you don't just believe him. You know.

Because after years of fighting together, surviving together, living together, you know that this is just one more adventure you get to go on with him by your side.

Now, Dean would rather not see all the gritty details of the birth, but he stays in the delivery room, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He's not going to leave your side. He's wiping sweat from your brow and encouraging you, being whatever kind of support you need.

After the baby's born and the nurses bring her back all cleaned up, Dean holds his daughter for the first time.

He has tears in his eyes. For a long moment, he doesn't even blink. He stares down at that small, perfect face. Already he sees some of your features in her.

He can't put into words how he feels. It's overwhelming in his chest. But one thing is certain...

Dean's never been more grateful to be alive than in this moment.

He blinks, and the first of his tears fall. He brings her to you, sitting down carefully on the edge of your bed again so you can hold her. You're beyond exhaustion, sweaty, and weeping, but one thing is certain...

You've never been more grateful for Dean than in this moment.

You turn to him, giving him a small smile. He returns it, and he leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

"Do you have a name picked out yet?" one of the nurses asks.

You and Dean share a look: his imploring, yours knowing.

"We're not naming her Baby," you warn him.

"Aw, come on."

Beau Arlen

Round 2! 🫡

Beau runs the gambit from excited, to anxious, to freaking the hell out, and back to excited.

This is "Round 2" for him. His second child. But he's had reservations about being an "older" father to a new baby. (He's pushing 50 at this point. No matter how much he keeps in shape, he still feels his age in his bowlegged knees.)

You've assured him that plenty of men have children at his age.

Regardless of his insecurities though, you know he's still over the moon. Beau has always wanted more kids, deep down, and now thanks to you, he's getting his wish.

He's the man who's "prepared for anything."

When your water broke, he already had your to-go bag ready with everything you might need.

But he continues to ask you questions from the moment he's got you out the door to the drive over to the hospital, and even in the lobby.

"You thirsty? You comfortable like that? How's the pain? Just breathe, baby. I gotcha. Watch your step now. You hungry? We've got protein bars in the bag, unless you're cravin' something else. First things first, let's check in. Oh, I hope we can getcha in a private room. Let's see--oh damn, they sure are packed today, huh? Okay, how're you holdin' up? How's the pain, level of 1 to 10? Yep, got it, hold my hand. Just breathe through it. I gotcha."

Bless him. The man means well, but he's driving you freakin' crazy.

"Beau, I know. If you don't take a breath, I'm gonna pop you in the damn nose."

He tries not to smile at your grumpiness. "...Okay, I hear ya. Let's just get you into your room."

He rarely leaves your side during the entire labor, just to get you anything you might actually need. The radio at his belt occasionally goes off for work, but he apologizes, having forgotten to turn it off. He put Jenny in charge while he's gone.

"Let's just hope the precinct's still standing when I get back," he jokes. He finally turns off the radio and takes it off his belt, to your relief. And he returns his undivided attention to you.

Beau witnessed the birth of his daughter Emily, so he's no stranger to being in the delivery room. He even ventures past the curtain when your son is born, breathing air into his little lungs and letting out a powerful cry.

Beau laughs with tears in his eyes. "That's my boy."

When the nurses place him into your arms first, Beau supports your hold and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. "Good job, honey. Good job."

"I know," you tease weakly.

Beau chuckles. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and looks down at the small bundle in your arms and his.

"We have a son," Beau says. His eyes are red and shining. "I have a son."

"You have a son," you nod. You look over at him and lean in for a kiss. He obliges you, and rests his forehead against yours afterwards.

Life is meant for moments like this, he thinks.

He's damn grateful it's with you.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Readers of Strong as Blood in the BMD-verse will recognize some of this HC...

This day has been a long time coming, for both of you.

He smells like cigar smoke when he comes back into your recovery room. For which you have no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Butcher and M.M. outside the hospital. 

Ben was with you for most of the lead up to the birth, but you actually agreed that having him in the delivery room wasn't a good idea. He never did well with you in pain, and with his temper, he might just scare the shit out of the doctor and nurses.

He strides toward you though, when he enters the room. He lays a hand on your head and another on the baby's tuft of brown, downy hair.

"We have a daughter," you tell him, with a watery smile.

Part of him still twinges with disappointment. He didn't react well when he found out you weren't carrying a boy, his future son.

(You'd given him enough hell that he never brought up the subject again.)

But that all fades away when he looks down at his daughter's face.

He carefully sits on the edge of your bed, but he's suspended in time. His chest tightens in a way he's never experienced before.

It's almost like pain, but not. Not at all.

He brushes a thumb along the baby's soft cheek. He's almost hesitant to touch her, knowing how fragile she is.

"Beautiful, like her mother," he says at last. And he means it.

He earns your smile.

"Flatterer," you accuse. You know you look as wrecked as you feel. Somehow, none of that matter's whenever you look at your child's face.

You look over at Ben with a shining smile. His lips twitch. He leans in and meets your lips with a kiss, slow and deep and intimate in this quiet little room.

“You okay?” he asks you, after he pulls away. “Got everything you need?”

He’s become even more protective, of course, but also more attentive to you. Especially in the last few months of your pregnancy, seeing how uncomfortable you've become.

It warms you every time, when you consider how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he can be.

It seems that fatherhood is beginning to soften him, even before he begins. You quirk a smile at the thought, and at his question.

“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you say cheekily.

He snorts a bit loudly at that, and you shush him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expects nothing less from you.

“But I’m okay,” you answer his second question. “All I need right now is you.”

Ben considers you, a slightly gentler smile curving his lips, and he nods.

“All right,” he says. In this moment, he realizes that his entire world is in this room.

He’d never admit it, but it's a terrifying thought, for a man who once had everything and nothing.

You unknowingly stop the path of his thoughts when you ask him, "Want to hold her for a while?"

Ben perks up at attention. He's a bit uncertain on how exactly to hold the baby, but he can't lose face and tell you that. So he just accepts the bundle when you place her in his arms.

As he looks down at a small face that already has some of his features, he inhales a faltering breath.

It's the first time you ever see true tears in his eyes, despite how much he resists. One manages to draw a path down his cheek. 

“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, sweetheart,” he says. It elicits a knowing scoff out of you. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”

Ben looks up and finds the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes. His smirk softens around the edges.

“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he says.

AN: All right, I'll stop. 😭 I hope you enjoy this one, fluff overload and all! Who was your favorite this time: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 💜

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[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 7)

You and Johnny were at a standstill. You woke up not long ago from your nap, still safely tucked to his side in the nest in an almost claustrophobic way. You were ready to just get up and leave this situation, but Johnny didn't really let you, actually still insisting on playing with you, which resulted in now.

Both of you were staring eachother. You were satting quietly against the nest border as Johnny laid hid big body across the nest easily, laid on his side as he smiled smugly at you, hand holding his head up, his other hand resting quietly near your little feet. If you tried scooting backwards, he would pull you back easily with just a small tug.

"Pup, come on, ya knae ya want to play a wee bit~" He almost singsongs, voice low and provocative...

Still a bit babyish too.

"Wanna play tag?" As you shake your head quietly, he crawls a bit closer, keeping his big body somehow lower than your sitting position. "No tag? I'll play nice, papa always play nice!" He smiles big, sharp and long teeth on display, making you tremble a little.

You still shake your head, embarrassed.

"Hide 'n seek?" He pouts exaggeratedly, long, fluffly ears pinned back on his head. It looked... kinda cute, but you still shook your head a little. "Come on, Lass.... It'll make ya good to move around a wee bit..."

"Don't wanna play..." Your murmur quietly, still pretty much shy around them.

Johnny lets out a little whimper at that, which immediatly startled you a bit at the high pitched sound.

"How about... just a walk around, yeah?" He suggests gently, only to immediatly sit up a bit, getting excited about his own idea. "Oh, yeah, yeah, let's go for a walk, wee pup! That way, you can get to knae the place around the house, aye?"

"If they are going for a walk outside, they need to be properly dressed." Kyle casually remarks as he comes inside the room out of nowhere, clothes in hand. "It's already getting dark, and the temperature is dropping. Price said that it's threatening to snow tomorrow." "Already??" Johnny growls slightly, and that immediatly makes you jump back a little on the nest. "Oh, nae, nae, it's okay, pup, i'm so sorry, wee pup, come 'ere." He changes tones quickly, leaning over you to coo gently as he paws the blanket tangled around you, pulling you closer.

"Unfortunately." Kyle huffs a little, wings shuffling behing his back, getting fluffly. "I though we would have more time."

Johnny hums, frowning as he considers what to do next, his hands holding you to his chest, even as you squirm a little.

"It's probably okay for a human, aye?"

"If they are properly dressed, yes. Come here, chick." You didn't have time to react as Kyle bend down and picked you up on his arms, the blanket still wrapped around you.

Johnny got up too, stretching like a real dog as he watched Kyle gently set you down on the carpet and pat your clothes, straightening the sweater and pants that got rustled after your nap.

"Give me your hand, chick." Kyle smiles easily, gently, grabbing your hand after you hesitantly lifted it. "John got good things, thank god. This gloves and hat feel very warm."

"It has to be, right? Weren't them in a store that caters to humans too?" Johnny kneeled down by you, watching faithfuly as Kyle gently put the thick wool gloves on your little hands.

"Yeah, but you know how it is. They say they cater to these less common races, but in the end it's just a marketing scheme." Kyle roll his eyes slightly, once again dropping out of the gentle persona he usually adopts when near you. "But these are fine, they feel thick and warm, the wool is good quality, the type that will isolate the heat nicely."

Kyle picked up the new thick jacket they got you at the store, quickly helping you into it, zipping it up tight over the sweater. It did feel warm, almost too warm to your already warm room.

"And here's your beanie, Lass!" Johnny smiled big, picking up the wool beanie and using one of his big hands to push your hair back flatly, your eyes squinting at the action as you feel the hat being placed expertly on your head. "Does it feel warm?"

You nod quietly, feeling a bit too wrapped up in your new clothes.

"Good! Let's put on your shoes and go outside, aye?"

It didn't take long for the three of you to be making your way downstairs, immediatly caughting Simon's attention as he frowned.

"You're leaving?" He asks gruffily, posture immediatly changing as he crossed his thick arms over his chest, still frowning.

"Aye, going outside with the lassie to exercise a little!" Johnny quickly smiled, nodding as his tail wagged behind him.

"It's late."

"It's like, 6:30 p.m." Johnny smiles back, rolling his eyes a little.

"It's cold outside."

"They're wrapped up." Kyle adds, smiling a bit too smugly.

Simon squinted his eyes a little more, annoyed, which only made the younger two laugh with a bit too much arrogance.

"Stop going all mama bear, Si, they're gonna be fineeeeeeee~" Johnny laughs, gently nudging you towards the front door.

Simon growls quietly at that, but cuts himself off almost immediatly as they see you weaken your steps.

"I just don't like the idea of having them outside at this hour and at this weather." He replies, voice heavy and low, almost growled out.

"It's not good for them to be cooped up inside all the time." Kyle points out, Johnny quickly nodding to agree with his mate.

Both harpies and werewolves are very active and outdoors' species. Contrary of Wraiths, obviously.

"Let them go, Simon. It's good for the kid to walk a little too." John raises his voice for the others to hear him from the kitchen.

Simon huffs, but his posture relax slightly. He glances at you, that is obediently still by the door, Johnny big presence pressed against your back as he still smiles smugly at Simon.

"Be careful, eyes on them all the time, don't start with your little games yet, this is a little human kid we are talking about." Simon speaks slowly, clearly holding back on a growl as his fingers started to let out small wisps of shadows.

"I knae, Si! What do ya take me for?? 'M nae dimwit!" Johnny huffs, rolling his eyes before he lets out a big grin right after. "I'm not play wrestling this wee baby yet, it's just a little walk!"

"God, I also want to let loose and fly a little..." Kyle huffs a bit, stratching his wings, tho quickly tucking them back when he saw you take a small step away in intimidation. "But I'll let that for later. I'll help John with dinner."

"Be back before dinner." Simon warns Johnny once again, that just throws a mock salute his way and steps out of the house, taking you with him.

"Right, mama bear! We'll be right back!"

"Don't compare myself to the likes of Nikolai." Simon huffs as he turns away from the now closed front door, going to the kitchen to both help the other two with dinner and to watch Johnny and you outside the kitchen window.

Part 6 / Part 8

[chrissv4mp]

౨ৎ lacy black pair with the little bows

— word count : 4.3k

★ sum: you listen to billie's new feature, and you can't help but notice that more than half of her lyrics are directed toward you.

☆ pair: fem!reader × billie eilish

★ cws: smut, language, spit, oral, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, crying, mommy kink, degradation, dirty talk, masturbation, strap-on sex, etc.

☆ a/n: well...... haven't written for like 4 years (days), but i'm back !! (maybe...)

★ a/n 2: i lied, you're getting this way earlier than u should've.... (my break from writing is long overdue i need to get back on here 💔)

— tags : @livialifesblog @mseilishmwah @mxqdii @sophloveswomen @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33

navigation

your thumb quickly taps on a newly released music video, a video starring charli xcx, and your girlfriend. you heard the song already, millions of times, actually. it was one of your favorites on the album, and you were ecstatic when you found out that billie got to star in the music video and also put a little twist to the song.

you bit down on your lip in an effort to contain your excitement, a light pink hue flushing your cheeks and ears as your eyes darted around at every extra in the video. they all looked amazing, but the person you wanted to see right now was billie. you wanted to know what she was wearing in the video and what lyrics she wrote for it. her mind worked in such a beautiful way that you couldn't help but get excited.

a squeal left your throat as your girlfriend finally came on screen. she looked good. really good. you couldn't help but blush profusely as you stared into her eyes in awe, causing you to miss half of her lyrics. you quickly skipped back, though, chewing on your bottom lip out of excitement to hear the words. when your ears finally picked up on the words coming from her between her lips, letting out a quiet gasp as your face got impossibly hotter.

"don't have to guess the color of your underwear,

already know what you've got goin' down there."

a quiet hum fell from between your own lips, a big smile plastered on your face as your eyes continued to follow wherever your girlfriend went on screen. the next line of lyrics made your eyes widen subtly, catching on to who she wrote her lyrics about. did she write them about you? your thighs squeezed together at the thought, breath hitching.

"it's that lacy black pair with the little bows,

the ones i picked out for you in tokyo."

you remember that night very well. when she took you on her trip to tokyo for her tour promo. she insisted on exploring the city with you, explaining in great detail how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you and how she wanted to experience new things with you specifically. and that eventually led to her dragging you into a mall and taking you into victoria's secret, then surprising you with a pair she wanted you to try on.

she really couldn't get her hands off you when she saw them on you, hugging your hips just right and making her appetite for you even bigger. she wanted to taste you, so that's exactly what she did. right in the dressing room, she ate you out like a starved woman. you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it. the adrenaline you got from the fact that anyone could interrupt you or even accidently walk in made it all the more pleasurable.

she bought them for you without hesitation, and you quickly found out those were her favorite pair. the way the light pink bows decorated the thin, lacy fabric, and the way they fit you just right made her absolutely insane. whenever you would walk around the house in just underwear, she would be right at your feet in seconds, tugging at the fabric in an effort to pull them down.

"i saw them when you sat down, they were peekin' out.

i'm gonna tell you right now they're all i'm thinkin' about."

her words affected you much more than you'd like to admit. the way her plump, pink lips moved to sound out the syllables of each word she spoke, it made you crazy. she was teasing you through the fucking screen, and you couldn't do anything about it right now.

"fuck." you mumble, the end sounding as a whine as your head lolled back onto the couch cushions. she wouldn't be home for another hour, and you knew she hated whenever you touched yourself without her clear permission.

how could you resist, though, when she spoke such filthy words? her tone of voice didn't help your situation, either. it was low and raspy and had just a hint of seductiveness settled in. the way she sang had your heart pounding and your pussy throbbing, eyelids threatening to flutter shut as you continued to watch.

"i wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it,

pull it to the side and get all up in it."

you couldn't take it anymore. sure, you could've shut off the video and tried to distract yourself, but you really didn't want to take your eyes off the gorgeous girl. instead, your free hand slid down your body, caressing your own soft skin gently before dipping beneath the waistband of the pair of panties that your girlfriend loved so much.

a choked sigh of relief fell from between your lips as your index finger ran through your wet folds. the hand on your phone only gripped the device tighter, eyes trained on billie as she moved around in the music video. she looked so sexy you couldn't help but moan out into the empty house, hips bucking against the pads of your fingers.

"billie—mhh.." you whimpered quietly, teasing yourself by only dipping the tips of your index and middle finger into your pussy. just like billie would do if she was here. she would call you a slut for getting so worked up just by watching her through a screen. she'd edge you the whole night if she saw you in this position, actually.

"kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?

charli likes boys, but she knows i'd hit it."

the way she moved her head side to side as she sang the lyrics reminded you of the countless times she's done that while in between your legs, eating you out like you were her last meal. she was always so eager to please you, taste you, hear you.

your fingers stopped when you heard the last line, though, pausing the video quickly as a pang of jealousy hit you. that only fueled the fire in your lower stomach. it fueled your urge to further disobey her and make yourself cum over and over again by yourself. you wanted her to walk through the front door and instantly be met with your throaty moans and the disheveled, fucked-out appearance of yourself while you continued to thrust your fingers in and out of your swollen pussy.

the thought alone made you wetter, and this time you fully plunged both fingers inside of your pussy. a moan sounded throughout the house as you tossed your phone to the side of the couch, head lolling back as you spread your legs further out. you imagined they were billies fingers pounding relentlessly into your tight hole, never stopping even whenever you tried to push her hands away.

quiet gasps soon turned into throaty, desperate moans of your girlfriends name. your hand gripped the pillow beside you, bottom lip swollen from all the biting you had been doing previously. the way her hands moved on the steering wheel of the tractor made butterflies swarm in your stomach, her ring-clad fingers making you crave her touch even more.

a thought popped into your mind, your fingers faltering in pace for just a moment before they picked up speed again. your grip on the pillow loosened, reaching around on the couch to find your phone. when you finally grabbed it, you unlocked it and opened up the camera app, pointing the phone down at your thighs. as you snapped the picture, you let out a breathy chuckle as your eyes scanned it. your hand was visible through the thin fabric of your panties, and the obvious wet spot just made your smile bigger.

you didn't think about the consequences before sending the photo to billie with a teasing text, "still thinking about them, or did i wear these for nothing?" then your phone was tossed to the side once again as you got lost in your pleasure, eyes rolling back as you curled your fingers just right and hit that one soft spot inside of you.

it didn't take long for your phone to start vibrating, the screen lighting up with a picture of you and billie and her contact name showing in bold at the top. you would've answered if you weren't so caught up in the need to cum, drowning out everything around you as you got lost in the fantasy of your girlfriend plunging her fingers deep inside of you while her lips wrapped around your swollen clit.

a low whine sounded in the room as you clenched around your digits, bucking your hips wildly against your palm as it continuously grazed your swollen bud. a hand came up to grope at your tit, rubbing your nipple through the thin, white baby-tee you wore. when your fingers curled again, you lost it, letting out a high-pitched moan as your back arched away from the couch cushions. your juices coated both of your digits as you pulled them away after a few moments, whining at the empty feeling.

grabbing your phone once again, you opened the camera app and spread both your index and middle fingers, snapping the photo when the web of your cum was visible. a cheeky, flustered smile formed on your face as you flipped the phone camera. this time, you recorded your filthy actions. you slowly brought your fingers up to your mouth, sticking your tongue out in a seductive manner before placing both of your wet digits on the muscle.

your lips wrapped around your own fingers, and your eyes fluttered closed as you let out an exaggerated moan, tongue swirling around them as you thrusted them in and out of your mouth. billie wasn't gonna be nice tonight. you knew that. but you didn't care about the consequences right now because she was just so fucking fun to tease. she always got so worked up and flustered, you couldn't help it.

you stopped the video after you dragged your fingers out from between your lips slowly, making sure to give billie a show. then, you sent it without a care in the world before placing your phone down on the coffee table. she wouldn't be back soon anyway, so she'd have time to calm down.

— a loud slam echoed through the house, and your lips quickly curved into a mischievous smile as you got off yours and billies shared bed. it didn't take long for her to call your name, the tone of her voice clearly showing off her anger, "y/n, where the fuck are you?"

her eyes darkened as she watched you walk down the stairs like nothing happened. they traveled down your body, catching sight of the panties you wore in the picture you had sent her earlier. she couldn't believe you actually had the nerve to touch yourself without her present. as you stood at the bottom of the staircase, an innocent grin on your face, she bit her lip out of... she didn't even know.

"c'mere, now." her voice was quiet, the tone of her voice laced with anger and lust and emotions you couldn't even catch. you obeyed her commands, skipping off the final step before making your way over to the girl that still stood at the front door. the way your hips swayed as you walked was addicting to billie, her own urges becoming hard to contain. when you were finally in arms reach of billie, you stared into her ocean blue eyes and just smiled, humming as you tilted your head to the side.

she mirrored you, tilting her own head to the side but keeping the same stern look on her face as she analyzed your own. before she spoke, her hand came up to grab your face, her fingers pressing harshly against your cheekbones and causing your lips to part slightly, "you think it's funny to tease me while i'm out workin', huh?"

you stayed silent, eyes darting around her face and admiring her many facial features. the freckles that were only noticeable if you paid real close attention to her. your mind didn't process her question until after she shook your head side to side for a few seconds. you gasped before stuttering out a quiet response, "'ts not my fault. you were the one who started it, bils."

a toothy smile formed on her face, a quiet chuckle coming from between her perfect lips before she spoke, "how did i start it, babygirl?" her voice alone made your knees weak, wobbling for a moment before you composed yourself and spoke up, "the video," you whispered, and billie just scoffed as she pressed harder on your cheekbones.

it made you whine, cheeks flushing a light pink hue as her lips parted to speak again, "oh? was it the video, or was it the lyrics, mamas.?" you only stared back at her with a knowing look swirling in your pupils, and billie chuckled again, "it was both."

you nodded in response, hands moving to paw at your girlfriends close in a weak effort to try to get her to touch you. that's all you wanted ever since you finished the video, "you were the one who wrote those lyrics. you told me to watch the video and you—" you grumbled, and billie quickly shut you up by giving you the look that always made you crumble.

"no, no, it's not my fault. i think it's your fault for being such a needy slut, actually. you only had to wait a few more minutes and i would've been home to relieve you," she whispered, that stupid, sexy smile on her face never leaving, "but you couldn't wait, could ya? such a fuckin' slut you can't even wait to cum. 'm'gonna teach ya tonight how to be patient soon,"

"not tonight, though. you wanted to cum so badly so i'm gonna make you cum," you knew what that meant. yeah, she'd make you cum but she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied. she wasn't gonna stop until you were crying and begging her to stop.

a low whine ripped through your throat as you pouted your lips, batting your eyelashes at billie in an attempt to get out of the punishment. she replied by shaking her head slowly, biting down on her lip as she let her eyes travel over your body, eventually landing on the lacy panties you wore.

"y'look so sexy, mama," she groaned, letting go of your face to grab your hips. she walked toward you, resulting in your own feet taking you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you were forced into a sitting position. billie quickly dropped to her knees, spreading your legs with her veiny hands as she settled herself in between them.

her eyes couldn't decide where to stay, dragging over every inch of your body hungrily as she ran her thumbs along the exposed skin of your thighs. before you could complain, she dipped her head low and began to trail kisses along your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted needed her the most.

as she dragged her tongue up your thigh. you gasped, hands moving around for something to grab onto. she chuckled softly at your reaction, hooking both of her index fingers in the waistband of your panties and slowly, teasingly sliding them off your thighs, legs, and then your ankles. a look of confusion masked your face as she held them for a few moments before tucking them into the back pocket of her baggy jeans, eyes darkening even further as she kept eye contact.

then her hands were back on your skin, the cool temperature of them causing you to shiver as she caressed your thighs once more. she scooted closer this time, licking her lips as she finally caught sight of how soaked you were, "need you, bils. fuck—need you s' bad,"

billie hummed in response, not wasting another second to run the tip of her tongue through your folds, starting at your entrance and stopping at your clit. she repeated the motion a few more times, pleased at the breathy gasps you gave her in return. her tongue dipped into your hole when she licked back down, moaning at your taste as her eyes fluttered shut.

a breathy moan sounded throughout the room as her tongue began to thrust in and out of your pussy, your hands finally finding home tangled in billies hair. your hips instinctively bucked against her tongue, head lolling back onto the cushions just as it did a few hours prior. she was better with her tongue than you were with your fingers, fuck, you could've came on the spot.

"mmh, taste s' good, y/n.." she groans, the words muffled by your pussy. the vibrations of her voice make you whimper, eyes squeezing shut as you feel her tongue delve deeper into you. when your thighs begin to close around her head, she pulls away. your immediate reaction is to whine, hands pulling her close to your core again.

billie slaps your thigh softly, a silent warning not to piss her off as she would only add on to the punishment. when she got close again, though, she spat right onto your clit and then began to rub her index and middle fingers in slow, tight circles, "feels good, huh?"

you only nod, smiling stupidly as you sigh, "yes, yes, fuck yes..!" a moan rips through your throat as she finally dips both of her fingers into your entrance, her pace immediately picking up. the wet squelching sound of your pussy fills the room and billies ears, and she whimpers at the sound.

she fucking whimpers and you think it's by far the hottest thing she's ever done while in between your legs. her eyes are closed, so focused on sucking your clit harshly as her fingers pump in and out of you. the way she whispers soft praises against your pussy drive you crazy, the vibrations just making the whole situation so good.

"'m'gonna cum, mommy—mhh, fuuck.. please? please, need—lemme cum?" your words are jumbled up versions of every sentence you replayed in your head, trying to pick out the best one in hopes that she would actually let you cum on her fingers and tongue. what you didn't expect her to do was continue, but this time curling her fingers each time she reached a certain depth and rubbed against your weak spot, "yeah, mhmm—right.. right there! fuck, please don't stop,"

you didn't care if you sounded desperate right now. you wouldn't deny that you weren't desperate because you were, you were so close to your release, and you needed it. badly. the orgasm that you gave yourself would never come close to the way billie made you cum. she was so skilled with her fingers and her tongue and just everything.

she couldn't take her eyes off your face. the way your nose scrunched up in the slightest and the way your pretty lips were left parted to let out those beautiful moans of yours. your eyelids struggled to stay open, and billie smirked against your heat. she added a third finger, and you almost came on the spot, eyes rolling back as you tugged on her hair harshly.

her moans fell right into your pussy, the feeling of your hands tugging at her black locks both painful and pleasurable, "fits jus' perfectly, mama. wish you could see how well you take me," she mutters, thrusting her fingers in deeper if that was even possible. the stretch stung, but it also felt like the best thing in the world, "c'mon, cum around my fingers, know you wanna."

that was all you needed to let go. the knot in your stomach finally snapped as your thighs trembled, subconsciously closing them as billie continued to thrust her fingers into you, this time at a softer and slower pace. your breathing was erratic, mumbling half-finished sentences and, of course, billies name.

she didn't stop even after you calmed down, though, quickening her pace once she knew you were fully aware of everything going on around you. your eyes rolled back again as you felt butterflies swarming in your stomach once again. the overstimulation only made your thighs shake more, your pussy clenching around her fingers as you tried to protest.

"take it." is all she says, leaning her head against your thigh as she smiled up at you. her thumb took place of her mouth, rubbing tight circles on your clit as her other fingers worked on fucking you hard and fast, "you wanna act like a needy slut? i'll treat you like one, baby." her words only added to your overstimulating pleasure, and now you didn't know what you were begging for.

a choked moan rips through your throat, and now you're releasing all over her fingers once again. your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath you take, body falling limp against the couch as your thighs tremble around your girlfriends head. when you've come down, she finally pulls her fingers out and sits herself next to you. you gasp when she pulls you onto her lap, her eyes hooded and her lip caught between her teeth.

"open," she whispers, her voice laced with seduction. and, so you do, sticking your tongue out and taking her three fingers into your mouth. you wrap your lips around her digits, reaching out to grab her forearm so that she won't pull away. your tongue moves in between her fingers like you did with your own an hour prior, eyes fluttering shut as you moan quietly, "there's my girl. so obedient."

you whine when she pushes her hips up against your exposed core, the feeling of the strap beneath her pants making you grind down on her jeans, "can i fit it in that tight pussy of yours?" she asks condescendingly, raising an eyebrow as she tilts her head to the side. you nod eagerly as your hands begin to work on her belt.

billie just smiles at your eagerness, pulling her fingers out of your mouth before she throws her shirt over her head. her lacy bra barely covers her tits, and you pause for a moment to stare. when she pushes her hips up again, you take the hint to finish what you've started and help her slide her jeans off.

they pool around her ankles, and you bite down on your lip at the size of the indigo strap. it wasn't like you hadn't taken it before. it was the question she had just asked you. before she could even speak again, you lined the dildo up with your entrance, sinking all the way down in one go. your head fell back, a guttural moan echoing in the room as you began to roll your hips slowly.

billie whined quietly at the way your pace picked up quickly, her eyes scanning every inch of your body with a look of hunger swirling in her pupils. her hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as you bounced up and down on her lap, her cock filling you up perfectly, "jus' like that, yeah. shit, you look even better with my cock fillin' you up, princess."

the new pet name makes you shudder, head falling forward as your hands find their way on billies shoulders to stabilize yourself. your noises are quiet, whimpers and whines leaving you. your legs never stopped trembling even as you sunk all the way down. you cried out in pleasure as billie pushed her hips up, the strap hitting places your fingers could never.

you nod stupidly as her grip on your hips tighten, pulling you down on her strap harshly as you pick up your pace. the quiet whimpers your girlfriend lets out don't go unnoticed by you, a pleased smile taking over you face as you hide your face in the crook of her neck. your lips find her skin, kissing and sucking softly to create very visible marks.

"s' big, mommy—fuck." you moan against her neck, the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten. it gets tighter each time she bats her eyelashes at you, it gets you so much closer whenever she even speaks a word to you. her lips just look so kissable and fuckable and—

you capture her lips in a hungry kiss. it's uncoordinated and sloppy due to the combined neediness of you both. billie smiles into the messy make-out session, practically devouring your face as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. you're the first one to slide your tongue over her lips, silently asking for entrance, which she gladly accepts. your tongue explores her mouth, sometimes clashing with her own tongue in a fight for dominance. you have no idea how, but you win.

when you finally pull away, you drag her bottom lip out with your teeth. your eyes are looking straight into hers and, oh my gosh, she could cum from just that alone. a few more bounces on her cock and you're hips ate finally stuttering, struggling to keep up the pace you set as your grip on her shoulders tighten.

"bouncin' on my cock like such a slut, huh. bet you'd do this to any girl in your sight, right?" you shake your head the best you could, babbling something that sounded like, "no, only you." billie just scoffed, thrusting her hips up harder and faster as she holds your own. the slapping sound of skin echoes in the room, followed by the moans coming from your dry throat.

"cum," your chest heaves up and down, eyes squeezing shut as your body falls against hers. your orgasm hits you hard, and you swore you saw stars behind your eyelids as you rode out your high. billie smiles as she feels you fall limp against her, her hands coming to your back to pull you closer to her body, "did so good, mama,"

you nod weakly, eyelids ready to flutter shut once again as you hide your flushed face in her neck. when she thrusts her hips up again, you cry out, "but we're not done yet."

[redbullgirly]

Can you do a Lewis Hamilton smau where she is basically like Barbie? I feel like since Barbie is a fashion icon and so is Lewis, it would be a match made in Heaven. I read your pinned post and tried to make a request based on your rules. Sorry if it isn’t good enough

HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part2, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis Hamilton is part-time Formula One driver and full-time fashion icon. And so is his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who's also known as a real life Barbie.

Warnings: None... but a lot of pink XD. Also this story is set in December 2023, so no broken hearts over Lewis going to Ferrari... actually maybe just a little teaser.

Author's Note: Hi Anon! This request is great and thank you so much for it, it definitely is good enough! :) I had fun writing and creating this, even though at the end it's kind of different than what I firstly intended to do. The original idea was to make Y/N very Barbie coded, but at the end I'd say she's Barbie inspired and I focused more on the fashion icon part of the request. Though there's a sweet storyline about why her nickname is Barbie, so I hope you won't be disappointed! :)

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lewishamilton A lot happened in 2023 season and there was also a lot of outfits 🤞🏾✨

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user1 MY GOD THIS MAN IS BEAUTIFUL!

yourusername this was definitely one of my favs 💝

liked by the author

lewishamilton What can I say... pink is the color of real men 🫶🏾

yourusername but do i still wear it the best?

lewishamilton Of course ma'am

user2 I love them sm 😭

user3 can we talk about the fact they're the best couple ever?!

user4 so sweet🥰

user5 And the fact she's literally the only person he interacts with in the comments...

user6 You are the best Lewis, can't wait for another season 👏

user7 🔥❤️

mercedesamgf1 Did someone say Barbie and Ken?💘

user8 YES

user9 admin you're so real for this... they literally ARE our barbie and ken 🤭

user10 The only question is who is the Barbie and who's the Ken? xd

user11 lol imagine barbie lewis💀

user12 GOAT ⬆️♥️

carmenmmundt Me and goergerussell63 when?

gourgerussell I don't really think pink is my colour...😬

yourusername don't worry honey, if he won't wear pink w you i will 😘

carmenmmundt Oh I knew why you're my favourite Y/N 😘

georgerussell63 No wait I changed my mind darling!!

carmenmmundt Hmm now I'll have to think about it 🤔

georgerussell63 Y/NNNNN

yourusername 😌😚

user13 i love how he always manages to get y/n into his posts

user14 The power boyfriend Lewis has over me😩😩

user15 RIGHT?!

user16 he's just so... asdgsagfsgd 😫

user17 I literally need this version of him to live!!!

user18 i'm weak for bf lewis🥵

user19 Y/N looks SO GOOD in that coat

user20 I need to know how she does it

user21 fr

user22 The best driver and a fashion icon... damn he's got some talent 🙇‍♂️

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yourusername great season and now it'll be even better winter break w my love 💋💞

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f1 Our own Barbie🤩

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user1 yeeeees

user2 Wait I'm new in formula one, why do we call Lewis Hamilton's gf Babrie??

user3 idk user2 she just gives off the energy 😆

user4 Actually I think Lewis himself once called her Barbie in an interview when there were rumors about them dating and then it just stuck with her 🤷‍♀️

user5 oh really?!! tbh i had idea he ever called he barbie himself... y/n is just iconic xd

user6 IT'S Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT 🗣🗣

lewishamilton Can't wait to spend the winter break with you ✨

yourusername *mwah*

user7 pls I'm so excited for them!!

user8 the vacation photo dumps are gonna slay🤭

alexandrasaintmleux stoppp you're so pretty!🎀

yourusername nooo you are alex 🥹🫶

user9 they could never make me hate these two just 'cause they're dating the hottest drivers on the grid🫡

user10 The outfit in the second photo? HELLO?!

kellypiquet 🤍

liked by the author

charles_leclerc I see you like the Monaco circuit very much👀

yourusername i see you're stalking my photo dumps very carefully charles leclerc 🤨

charles_leclerc Well I have a feeling we'll see each other more often soon so I have to get to know you better😉

this comment has been deleted by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc Caught in the crime😂

user11 WHAT WAS THAT CHARLES?!

user12 omg I wasn't the only one to see it? I'm not delusional right?🫣

user13 idk what you saw 'cause i didn't but this interaction is so funny to me XD

user14 mommy- sorry... MOTHER

user15 ❣️❣️

user16 y/n & lew >>>>

twitter

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yourusername i'm barbie. he's just a ken (and he won some trophy for p3 in the championship... idk where it is) 💖💄

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user1 I live for Lewis leaving the trophy there💀

user2 and the way y/n basically confirmed this by saying she has no idea where it is😭

lewishamilton You're everything. I'm just Ken 🙏🏾✨

yourusername exactly... though you're the best ken ever 💞

sebastianvettel Isn't he more like Allan then?

yourusername ohhh true seb 🤭

user3 YOU WANNA TELL ME THE SEBASTIAN VETTEL SAW BARBIE

yourusername yeah we made him watch it and he cried during gloria's speech 💓

sebastianvettel I'm not ashamed about it.

yourusername and that's why i love u seb 🫶

user4 why aren't all men like sebastian???😩

user5 I love these three with all my heart y'all don't understand

user6 my fav driver watching my fav movie and crying during speech about feminism is my roman empire

user7 AAAHSDFHFGSDHSG😍

f1 If there was a prize for fashion icons, the Hamilton household would definetly win it! 🏆

liked by the author

user8 not admin calling them hamilton household🥹

user9 Lol that would be the only fairly given trophy this year

user10 OMG I just realized that one day Y/N and Lewis WILL be both HAMILTON😭😭

user11 I'll tattoo the date of their wedding on my arm fr

user12 that's real dedication user11 💀

user13 TRUE DEFINITION OF A QUEEN... LOVE YOUUUUUU

kellypiquet Gorgeous darling!💖💖💖

yourusername we both babeee 💖🫶

user14 the IT wags casually supporting each other

user15 I love they're still friends even though their bfs are probably the biggest rivals xd

user16 not the shade about the trophy💀

user17 Waiiittt what happened?

user18 someone who was at the ceremony said lewis gave him the prize 'cause he didn't want it😭

user17 Oh and Y/N wrote in her caption she doesn't know where it is?

user18 exactly😭

user17 Whoops... I love her, she's queen for that

user19 and the fact fia tried to deny these rumors💀

user20 Absolutely love this look 🤍

user21 you and lew are just such a good looking couple

user22 THE DRESS I REPEAT THE DRESS🥰

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lewishamilton 🇲🇨 with the best company.

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roscoelovescoco Mom's look's so handsome's ☺️☀️

liked by the author and yourusername

lewishamilton Agreed

yourusername awww my boys are too sweet 🥹💕

user1 lewis complimenting his gf not w one but TWO accounts makes my heart melt

liked by yourusername

user2 I want a man like him🤧

user3 WE LOVE ROSCOE CALLING HER MUM

user4 Lewis, Y/N & Roscoe are the best trio ever🥰

user5 parents and their son

user6 literally omg

yourusername wow who's that handsome boy laying on a couch 🥴😻

lewishamilton Handsome you say?😏

yourusername yeah, right next to u 🥰

lewishamilton Oh no, I should've seen that coming😒

roscoelovescoco Thank's mom's I'm handsome's boy's 😊👅

user7 these interactions give me the will to live

user8 I love the Hamilton family🥺

user9 lol y/n calling roscoe handsome xd

user10 The funniest part about this is that Lewis manages Roscoe's profile😭

user11 omg yes user10 not him playing being offended on his main and then being all sweet as roscoe...

user12 Love forever ❤️

user13 Y/N is so beautiful I can't believe my own eyes

user14 the two belong together forever 🙌🫶♾️💫

user15 fr

user16 If they ever break up I'll stop believing on love

mercedesamgf1 Mr. & Mrs. Mercedes

user17 pls give him decent car in 2024 to win another championship🙏

user18 The most iconic couple in history of motorsport 💅

user19 ❤️😍

user20 what's Ferrari doing in the likes?🤨

user21 lol calm down... he's literally lewis hamilton🤣

user22 No but it's weird... they never like other team's things

user23 and after the rumors during monaco gp too 🥸🥸

user24 I think this photo dump caused global warming... like daaammmnnn they're both so fine 🥵

user25 let's just say roscoe isn't the only one calling them mommy and daddy-

user26 lmao

user26 but true🫢

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yourusername barbie has a great day everyday... especially when she gets pink mercedes she wanted 🛍🤍

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lewishamilton Seems like Ken is good for something

liked by the author

yourusername maybeeee

lewishamilton You want pink Ferrari too, don't you?

yourusername ☺️☺️

user1 ohhh to have a man like that

user2 OMG LEWIS PLS GET HER PINK FERRARI

user3 Yeah, Y/N will slay in that car😌

user4 i wanna be barbie too if she gets pink mercedes

user5 but first you'll need to have a ken like lewis hamilton

francisca.cgomes this barbie is so prettyyyy

yourusername love u! 💓

user6 Okay okay I NEED the bikini😫😍

user7 QUEEN

user8 Y/N looking gorgeous like always🫶🏼

user9 gold digger alert!!!!🤮

user10 Girl go away, you clearly know nothing about their relationship xd

user11 jealousy alert!!!

user12 the first pic does something to me 😩

user13 The most beautiful woman ever

user14 Lewis won lottery w her

user15 yes she's literally so pretty and they seem so happy together🥰

user16 fr I don't think I've seen him this happy before

user17 yeah he looks so much calmer and even younger when y/n is with him at event and gps...🥹

user18 Plus the OUTFITS?! I love them sm

user19 Where is Lewis 🙂?

user20 c'mmon he doesn't have to be in every post she makes🙄

user21 stunning as always 💘

user22 SLAYING AS ALWAYS

twitter

Y/N’s interview

photo 1: Y/N: How did you and Lewis meet?

Y/F/N: Oh, you guys'll love the story!

photo 2: Y/N: It was actually in a toy store. Lew was there with his niece and I was there because... [laughs] Let's say I still like to collect dolls and lego, sue me.

photo 3: Y/N: Anyway, Lew's niece saw me, thought I'm a real life Barbie and wanted to say hi. [laughs] It was honestly so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm just a normal girl.

photo 4: Y/F/N: So does she still think you're Barbie? [laughs]

Y/N: Yeah, I think so... She calls me Auntie Barbie! [laughs too]

photo 5: Y/N: But back to Lewis - I didn't recognize him and just thought he's really cute. We talked for few minutes, though then I had to leave and didn't have the courage to ask for his number.

photo 6: Y/N: But few days later he followed me on Instagram and I was just like - yes!

Lewis’ interview

Interviewer: Lewis, you recently followed a known influencer and model on Instagram. Is there something going on between the two of you?

Lewis: Are you talking about Barbie? Oh, shoot, sorry... [laughs] I mean Y/N?

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yourusername aesthetic life w the best man, cute son and lots of flowers 🌸💖

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roscoelovescoco I got's mom's the's flowers's 😊🌷

liked by the author and lewishamilton

yourusername thx roscoe baby!! 🫶 guess daddy will have to learn from you 😌🤍

user1 ... are we gonna talk about the fact y/n just called lewis daddy?

yourusername ... no please don't, you know what i meant 😭🙈

user2 Too late Y/N, the twitter girlies are going to go nuts about this (me included)

landonorris Awww look at that grumpy little dude 🥺

liked by the author

pierregasly Mate are you calling the seven world time champion grumpy little dude?🤣

user3 lando tf-

user4 This is so funny for no reason😭

user5 Lewis being called grumpy little dude wasn't what I expected from this winter break tbh

landonorris ROSCOE

landonorris I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSCOE GUYS

user6 💀💀

pierregasly Lol

yourusername why did you even think it was about lewis peirregasly ??🧐

landonorris YEAH MR. TRIPOD TELL US

pierregasly Goodbye...👋

user7 u and lew are so sweet

user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERING 😍

alexandrasaintmleux Shining like a star✨💖

yourusername and you're my sun ☀️💖

user9 I want a man who gives me so many flowers!!!

user10 yeah and they're beautiful and tasteful too

lewishamilton So lucky to have you darling! 🫧🫶🏾

liked by the author

yourusername we're both so lucky lew 💗🫶

user11 and i'm lucky i was born in the same century as you so i can witness this love

user12 I LOVE Y/N & LEWIS🥰

user13 I'll ask again... When is he going to put a ring on it? 💍 C'mon Lewis you obviously love her sm

user14 Your guys love is so special ❤️

user15 if this is the content we'll be getting during winter break, i don't think i want it to end

user16 races are great... but boyfriend material lewis hamilton is better🤤

user17 REAL

THE END

Author's Note: Hi and thank you for reading! I'll be glad for likes, reblogs, comments, follows and any other ways of support. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2! I really enjoyed this version of Lewis and Y/N... and perhaps I have a lot of pictures that unfortunately didn't make it to the story because picture limit isn't very friendly. Love you and have a great day! :)

[blackbat05]

Opposites Attract

Congressman Bucky x Library Staff Reader

Plot: You were never really one for politics, but when Congressman James "Bucky" Barnes and an Avenger comes to grace the library for work, he may just prove you wrong...

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Super self-indulgent (yet again). Watched Thunderbolts over the weekend and despite being very partial to the MCU, this movie seriously impressed me! I love my rag-tag team~ Please excuse the subpar writing as I feel like I'm still in a funk.

He absolutely regrets this.

Yeah he should have never agreed to this.

“Congressman Barnes?”

The secertary snaps him out of his anxiety hazed stupor. “Sorry Linda, you were saying?”

“As I was saying, your appearance at the public library has been shifted up to 2pm. There’s a kid’s program and they’re hoping you’ll be able to grace them with your presence.” Linda informs.

“Thank you.” Bucky dismisses the secretary, immediately taking out his darned notes that Gary insisted he had to read.

“New York Public Library recently had their children’s library go under redevelopment…”

***

“Y/N!” Darcy rushes over. The young girl drags a chair to sit beside you as you’re pouring over the story time you planned for the kids coming in for the reading session at 2pm.

“Someone’s awfully cheery after lunch.”

“Congressman James Barnes is coming! To our library!” She hisses with excitement. “Gosh he’s so cute, I hope he gets to interact with the kids because that would just make me explode!”

“Okayyy, someone needs to calm down on the caffeine.” You swivel your chair to face her. “First of all, he’s doing his duty Darcy, second of all aren’t you being too vocal with your fantasies?”

“A girl can dream.” Darcy singsongs. “Good luck!”

You sigh at her enthusiasm that was bordering on naivety. The congressman was probably going to be the same as the rest, they always are. They’ll come and show their faces for photos and leave without truly understanding what they had to be here for.

Though a part of you can’t help but to agree with Darcy. Those good looks are wasted in politics.

The clock read 1.15pm. You should start getting ready for the session.

***

“You seem very engrossed in that packet, sir.”

“I find it tough how we can fund billions for weapons and nuclear warfare but it takes almost six years to refurbish the children’s section of the New York Library.”

“I can’t say anything else apart from my need to agree with you, sir.” Linda crisply responds.

Bucky stays silent, thinking about his own memories as a child in the library. A library was meant to be a safe space, away from the ruckus of life.

The car rolls to a stop and Bucky gets out with two guards trailing behind him.

“What am I? An invalid? I don’t need bodyguards, Linda. This is a Children’s Library. I don’t need them to have more things to be scared of.”

“Apologies sir. I’ll speak with the Director and make other necessary arrangements after the event.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

The trio departs from Bucky who decides to take the chance to explore the library that was as every bit as he remembered it.

He takes a random book and finds a spot that is hidden away from the public eye to do some people watching at the Children’s Library.

Mothers take this chance for a reprieve and catch up with their friends while the little ones try to flip big picture books with much effort. The older children roam around the series section, discussing in excited hushed voices the latest book that they had each read. Bucky’s heart oddly feels satisfied when he sees a little boy nose deep into a Geronimo Stilton book. Ah, a timeless classic for kids.

“Congressman Barnes?”

Bucky turns around, slightly apologetic that he had been people watching for too long.

“I’m the children’s librarian- well, technically support staff. I’m working towards becoming a librarian but of course you didn’t need to know that.” You inwardly cursed at yourself. He’s definitely going to think you’re bonkers.

Then, he chuckled.

Actually chuckled.

“I’ll be sitting in your session later? I promise not to stare as much.”

Before you can get a good word in, the charming congressman strolls away, leaving you in a mess.

***

"Good afternoon children!" You put on your best enthusiastic voice, as you greet the crowd.

"Good afternoon Ms Y/N!"

Even after doing this for too many times to count, being in front of children who were waiting to be impressed still gave you the jitters. Nevertheless, you were proud to say that you had build rapport with them steadily over the past six months.

"So, we've been reading books about values and I thought we could continue our discussion with a short but humorous story that I know will promise a good laugh." You show the book, eliciting a couple of giggles from the children.

“Today’s story is by Jon Klassen and it’s titled - I want my hat back…”

***

By the end of the story, the children were throughly amused at the simple but larger than life visuals that told a clear message. You were also glad that all that practice of different animal voices came in handy.

“Thank you for listening so well! For the last part of our session as we won’t be seeing each other for two weeks, we can do something fun! We’re going to create our very own paper hats!” You continued. “That’s not all, we’ll be doing it with a very special guest so I want all of you to help him along okay?”

Once you introduced Bucky, you offered him to roam around the tables where the children were already planning how to design the best hat.

As you helped a boy add stickers to his hat, your attention is diverted to a mini commotion at the table ahead.

“What’s all the buzz about?” You moved closer, almost bursting into unruly laughter yourself when you see the Congressman sitting in tiny plastic chair wearing a red cone hat similar to the character while the kids fluttered around to add sparkles and glitters, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Not Bucky though as his eyes widen at the sight of you. You give a slight cough to get the attention of the children.

“Alright now, let’s not crowd around Mr Barnes.” You ushered the children away, giving a couple of soft apologies on their behalf.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it.” He appeared to have snapped out of his momentary embarrassment of being covered in glitter, back to his charming self that you had the privilege of experiencing firsthand.

The rest of the session went smoothly (and glitter free). Bucky watches you bid goodbye to each kid in a unique and special way, from fist bumps to hugs and sometimes just a simple wave of the hand to the quieter kids. The children's section is quiet once more and he is amazed how you flutter around the tables, cleaning up effortlessly.

"Can I help?" He finds himself speaking up.

"Oh, that's alright. Wouldn't want to get your suit all messed up." You respond airily, trying to ignore the close proximity with Bucky.

"I insist." He says firmly and starts helping you to gather the scissors. You can't help but to notice how there's a butterfly sticker on his metal hand.

"A little girl - Lucy, she put this on me." He explains fondly. "Can't bear to take it off, at least not today."

Lucy. She never failed to turn up for every library session. Although she wasn't the loudest in the room, she participated with a quiet determination. Which was why you found this revelation particularly surprising.

"That's amazing. She takes a while to warm up to strangers. Well, not that you aren't a complete stranger. You're an Avenger- oh I'm doing it again aren't I?"

"That's okay." Bucky reassures you calmly. "I like it."

His straightforwardness throws you off, leaving you flustered but oddly pleased.

"Hey-"

"No, you go first."

"Do you want to get a drink?" Bucky asks. Before you could respond, loud voices could be heard from the adult's section, slowly becoming much louder.

"Oh no..."

"There you are!" Bucky spots Alexi from a mile away with that strikingly bright red suit. The rest of the team hushes him collectively, with Yelena attempting to make herself as small as possible.

"We've been trying to call you! Then your assistant- and she said you were in this place of knowledge! Oh, and who is this lady?" Alexi stares at you, intrigued. Bucky steps in front, feeling protective.

"Alright, can we focus, please?" Bucky shoots you an apologetic look that you clearly understood.

You'll have to reschedule.

***

“So! Are you not going to tell us who she is?” John is the first to broach the topic. Bucky gives him one of his famous death glares. However, this only encourages him and the rest of the team more.

"She seems lovely." Yelena teases, "Though I'm not sure why she would be attracted to a grump like you."

"Opposites attract." Ava adds helpfully (or unhelpfully in Bucky's opinion).

The jet flies across the ocean, making its way back home. Bucky taps his foot impatiently. Any longer with this group and having to endure their teasing might just make him commit daylight murder.

Bucky feels a buzz in his pocket and he fishes out his phone to read the message.

"Oooooh! Someone's texted back!" The team is in sync with their onslaught on their leader.

"Someone just kill me now." He mumbles under his breath.

*** You tug on your cardigan, waiting for Bucky on the steps of the library.

"Doll!" You hear a familiar voice that made your heart skip a beat. Though you must say, you were a little shocked to find out that he wasn't alone.

"Hello! Miss Librarian!" Alexi booms.

"Oh my god Dad she has a name." Yelena groans.

"Yes but she is proud of her job no?"

"Sorry about these idiots. Hi, John Walker." The man extends his hand for a handshake before being brushed aside by Bucky.

"Hi," you decide to make yourself known. "Bucky's told me about all of you."

"Whatever he's told you, don't believe all of it. The man's too grumpy for his own good." Yelena pipes up as Ava nods.

"Ok! And it is time for you to all go. The jet does not need a parking ticket." Bucky interjects pushing his teammates away from you. "Bob's waiting!"

With a couple more goodbyes, the jet zooms away, leaving the two of you still standing on the steps of the library.

"Not everyday my date is late because he's keeping the world safe from bad guys and outer space threats." You joke.

Bucky doesn't say a word and you're suddenly afraid that you may have fried his internal circuits.

"Sorry, I wasn't mad-"

"I'm your date?" He says with a grin and your words slowly sink in.

"Oh, well... I thought... um..." You scramble for words much to Bucky's amusement and he takes a step closer towards you.

"Would it be weird to say right now that I was thinking exactly the same thing?"

The both of you laugh and your stomach takes this moment to grumble loudly.

"Someone's hungry. I know a good Japanese Restaurant."

"I'm always down for good food."

He slots his fingers in between yours, holding on to your hand firmly.

"Great, then Sushi awaits."

"You are a god send."

[scorpioriesling]

i need some smut with liam mairi. specifically maybe based to the concept of bed chem by sabrina carpenter 👀 we know he’s the cute guy with the wide blue eyes and the big bad mmm 🫠

I Bet We'd Have Really Good...

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, nsfw, sex, p in v, fingering

Summary: Everyone knew how threshing typically went; however, no one could have prepared you for how it would actually go this time around.

SR’s Note: Not me LITERALLY planning to use this for Kinktober -- LOL. I was going to use Lucien, though. Nonetheless, I believe Liam is quite literally the perfect candidate for this type of story. Enjoy!!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Initiation was rough.

The parapet? Hell.

The first few months of challenges? Hell.

Training? Hell.

However... there was an entire new Hell, meant to scare and inspire riders during the hardest challenge they'd face yet.

Threshing.

"We haven't even met all of our yearmates yet," your new friend Malea mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. "How do they expect us to meet and bond with a dragon? A mere stranger to us?"

You sigh, looking out across the quad full of other riders.

"I mean... at least we've met some of them, right?" You shrug. "There's Violet, and Ridoc, remember him? Funny guy?"

Malea chuckles, her eyes locking on the brunette across the way.

"Yeah, real funny."

You bump her shoulder and she looks to you.

"Met me too, right?" You raise your eyebrows. She rolls her eyes.

"Yesssss," she groans, shaking her head. "I suppose you're right."

You shrug. "So I guess bonding a dragon won't be that hard, right?"

* ✧･ﾟ: *

The following morning, you followed routine as usual.

Get up.

Shower.

Brush teeth.

Ponytail.

I was in a cheer dress, the day that we met

We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

You're friending me up, so we could connect

You nod along with the newest Sabrina Carpenter song playing from your phone, brushing back the last few flyaways up into your ponytail.

And what are the odds? You send me a text

And now the next, thing I know I'm like

Manifest that you're oversized

You click the pause button as Malea bangs her fist on your shared bathroom door, and look yourself over one last time.

"Y/N! C'mon, its almost ten -- we need to be down there!"

You loose a breath, reaching for the doorhandle. Tugging it open, you look into her worried hazel eyes. She places a tentative hand on your shoulder, faking a reassuring smile.

"We'll both bond dragons, the strongest there are." She affirms. "C'mon, say it with me."

You take a deep breath, trying hard to repress the fear clawing at you from the inside.

"We'll both bond dragons," you repeat. "Strongest there are."

* ✧･ﾟ: *

The flight field was full of eager riders, all dressed in black. The stark contrast of color against the lush green grass, the early sun making the air around you more energized than ever.

You gulped. This was it, this was truly it. You'd either bond a dragon today, or you wouldn't.

I digress, got me scrolling like

Out of breath, got me going like

Oooh

Silly song, clouding your thoughts. You literally flinch when Malea places an excited hand on your forearm.

"Hey! Just think, after we bond our dragons, we get to go to that really sick party tonight," she bounces with excitement. You look incredulously at her. You were literally about to go through Threshing, and all she could think about was the party tonight?

"Yeah, uh, I don't know if I'll go to that, Lea," you say with uncertainty. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of green among the nearly trees. Malea sighs, chattering behind you.

You look closer toward the trees, the shimmering scales among them catching the light again. Your eyes widen, and you take a small step toward the forrest.

"Y/N, c'mon you know it'll be so fun, we can meet all the other first years like you said..."

Her voice faded out as you continued on your path, venturing closer toward the treeline. You squinted, peering in as much as you could but finding nothing.

Step. Step. Step.

Who's the cute boy

With the white jacket

And the thick accent? Like,

You hum as you venture further, the song still playing through your mind.

Ooh

Maybe it's all in my head, but-

Your breath catches, the tune halting in your mind. You inch closer to one of the trees, trying to calm the racing of your heart.

You peer between two thick oaks, watching as a shimmer of orange stalks nearer.

No, no no.

Your blodd pumps fast, making it hard to hear. You strain to listen, but the sound of crunching grass beneath the huge beast's claws is unmistakeable. You bite your lip, fear wrapping its razor sharp claws around your heart.

Taking a daring glance around the tree, you freeze.

Its eyes lock onto yours.

You let out a single breath.

The huge dragon blows out a stream of fire, its mouth curling upward as though it is smirking at you. Your breaths come out short, ragged even.

It charges.

You inhale as quickly as you can, running as fast as you can away from the huge creature. You're on a path, running running running...

Deeper into the forrest.

Oh, shit.

Heat blasts behind you, and you don't dare to turn back. You know that the orange is still chasing you, which only propels you further. The beast roars behind you, and you squeak in fear. How would anyone find you out here, alone in the woods?

Burned to a crisp, likely.

You pass tree after tree, continuing on as the ground shakes. He's getting closer, and your heart lurches when your foot catches on a thick root. You are sent flying, crashing to the dirt path.

You gasp, the wind completely knocked from you. When you push yourself up, you wince at the searing pain blooming across your cheek. There's no time to dwell on it -- quickly flipping over, your vision fills with the image of the feisty orange charging you.

You scramble back, kicking against the dirty moss-ridden ground in a flightless attempt to get away. You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the worst, when suddenly...

"Back! Stay the Hell back!"

Your eyes widen, the rush of adrenaline spearing through you as you scramble to your feet. The orange's eyes are no longer focused on you, but rather the blonde male before it, weilding a rather sharp sword.

"Don't make me use this," he shouts, and the dragon breathes out a short spurt of fire. The blonde swings the blade, nearly slashing the beast's neck. It rears its head, preparing for another blast before-

It starts slowly backing away.

You finally release the breath you'd been holding, watching it's retreating form through the trees. It seemed to focus on something behind you, something... else.

You turn, breathing coming more and more shallow before you spot it.

A large, red dragon. It slowly stalked closer to you.

You yelped, stumbling back once more and finding yourself yet again, on the ground. Backing up against a tree, you clamp a hand over your mouth.

But, the red daggertail walks right past you.

The blonde finally turns, and you catch a glimpse of his face.

His, handsome, face, that is.

His gaze focuses squarely on the approaching being, his shoulders rising and falling before he sheathes his sword across his back. You'd half expected him to keep it out, considering what just happened, but instead... he smiles.

You completely ignore the tingle in your tummy as you watch the red dragon walk to him, bowing his head in greeting. The handsome man laughs, full and hearty as he reaches for it, extending a hand to brush kindly over his nose.

Your heart warms at the sight -- so this is bonding. You can't help the small smile on your face, watching a fellow rider find it's match.

When it has been a few minutes too long, you feel like you're intruding, you brace your hands on the ground. Preparing to stand, you jump when a voice is heard just before you.

"You alright?"

You gasp, your gaze jerking up to meet the most gorgeous, icy blue one you'd ever seen. The blonde had walked to you, back turned to his newly bonded dragon. Nodding, he extends a hand to you.

"Good," he continues. "I'm Liam. Mairi."

You work to control your breathing, your voice coming out shakier than you'd like.

"Y/N," you offer, and take his hand firmly in yours. Expecting a handshake, you grip tight -- however, he holds your fingers in his lightly, turning your palm to the ground as he brings the back of your hand to his lips.

The blush spreading across your face is downright shameful.

"Y/N," he repeats, dropping your hand and looking you in the eyes. "I don't think we've met."

You shake your head slowly, your gaze lost in his endless ocean of a stare. He chuckles, flashing his brilliant smile -- and the tingles in your tummy return.

"Have you... bonded, yet?" He asks. You straighten, the tingling sensation gone again as you recall what you were actually supposed to be doing out here.

"N-no," you stammer, embarassment heating your skin. Liam only shrugs, placing a guiding hand on your lower back as he steps toward the path once more.

"Don't worry," he encourages. "I'm sure you'll find one -- maybe not all the way out here, but." He grins, and you look up at him. He gives you a reassuring smile, walking alongside you as his dragon trails behind.

"Might have a better chance out in the open, ya know. On the flight feild?" You huff, and he looks down to you. "What were you doin' all the way out here, anyways?"

You recount the events that had led up to you being so far in the forrest, and as you retell it... you can't help but feel the pang of disappointment. Telling this handsome, fearless male about your encounter with a dragon -- and running from it?

Your stomach churned.

"That's when you came along," you finish the retelling. "Thank you, by the way." You look to the ground, and Liam's steps slow.

"We're almost to the edge of the forrest," he says, looking between you and the treeline. "Are you ready?"

You loose a long breath, the small of your back still ablaze where his hand had rested.

"Ready as ever."

He flashed you one more look of reassurance, before stepping out into the sunlight. You followed, your gaze catching on the tones muscles concealed beneath his black tee.

In that moment, you could only think about one thing.

I bet we'd have really good bed chem.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

"Yeah, and he totally wasn't interested at first, but all I had to do was flash these guys and Aotrom totally wanted me!"

You chuckled as you chewed on your straw, listening to Ridoc's retelling of his threshing experience. You watch as he flexes his muscles, and girls near him laugh. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Malea roll her eyes, bringing her cup to her lips and taking a long sip.

Chatter continued around you, busybodies interacting with one another under the neon lights of the club. Mostly first years had come, but you'd spotted a few second and even thirds mingling with the crowd.

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things

That's bed chem

How you're looking at me yeah I know what that means and

I'm obsessed

Are you free next week?

I bet we'd have really good...

You nod along as the speakers blast your favorite song, and Malea leans in close to shout in your ear.

"Hey! I think I see that guy you were telling me about earlier," she yells, and your head swivels in the direction of her line of sight. "Is that him?"

The blonde hair. Radiant smile. Overjoyous laugh at something his friend just said.

Yeah. It's him.

"That's... yeah, uh..." You trail off. His arms bulge beneath the black longsleeve he wears -- a nod to how muscular he is. His cargo pants sit perfectly on his hips, and your eyes track his movements as he runs a hand through his hair...

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Malea teases.

Come right on me

I mean-

"Camraderie," you chuckle nervously. “You know… friendship and all that.” She raises an eyebrow at you, and you take a large gulp of your drink.

"Sure." She shrugs, and you shake the thoughts from your head. Ridoc makes his way toward the two of you, his gaze mainly focused on your red-head counterpart.

Said you’re not in my time zone but you wanna be

"Oh, where art though? Why not uponeth me?" He teases, earning himself yet another Malea-famous eyeroll.

"In your dreams, Ridoc." She sighs, looking up at him. "I only date second years."

You frown at her. That was downright untrue.

Ridoc laughs, leaning in to speak directly to her.

"Well good thing I fuck like a third."

You giggle as her cheeks pinken, her wide-eyed gaze up at your yearmate.

"I see it in my mind, Malea -- c'mon, lets fulfil the prophecy." He winks at her, and she shakes her head, tipping her cup back once more. Ridoc makes to depart, but you catch his forearm before he can make it too far.

"Hey, maybe you know... who's the cute guy, with the wide blue eyes?" You ask him, pointing to Liam across the way. And the big bad mmm...

Stop.

"Oh, Liam?" He says, catching sight of the other male across the way. "Yeah, his family was part of the rebellion or something. I know he's like, best friends with our Wingleader, but. Yeah. Cool dude, I guess." He shrugs. "Beat the shit out of me at challenges, if I'm honest."

"I know I sound a bit redundant, but," you continue. "Is he... single?"

Ridoc laughs, side-eyeing you. "Why don't you go find out yourself? I think after a successful day of bonding a dragon, the least you could do is chat the guy up."

That's exactly. What you were afraid of.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

Another hour and three more drinks in, you were ready to call it quits. However, finding Malea on the dance floor was not as simple a task as one may think.

You searched as best as you could, that is while stumbling through the crowd. It seemed everywhere you looked, she just wasn't there. Your eyes began to blur as you took in each and every face around you -- some familiar, some not. The more and more you weaved and turned on the dance floor...

"Woah there! You alright?"

Your stomach lurched as the familiar voice sounded behind you. Two strong arms gently wrapped around your waist holding you upright, and you couldn't help but lean into the culprit.

"I believe you already asked me that today."

Liam laughs, his chest rising and falling against your back. He leans in, pulling a strand of hair from your forehead and tucking it behind your ear.

"Cute and funny -- I like it," he says. You crane your neck to look at him, a dumb smile overtaking your face. His cheeks are redder than they were a few hours ago, but you notice the absence of a drink in his hand.

"You don't drink?"

He shrugs.

"Not regularly, but seeing as its nearly midnight, my Wingleader stepped in and suggested the cutoff." He jabs his thumb over his shoulder in Xaden's direction. The third year doesn't notice; he's too caught up in the silver-haired girl in front of him.

"Do you drink?"

You continue your smiling, turning to face him fully.

"Tonight I do."

He chuckles, his grip releasing a bit around your waist. You frown, your hands reaching for his forearms to put them back.

"Waitttt," you whine, and his brows raise in amusement. "I like them there."

His grin turns into something... darker, a flicker of something more than attraction passing over his features. You bite your bottom lip, pressing against his chest once more.

He not so subtly glances down at the neckline of your dress -- and, like you'd hoped, a moment later his hard-on is pressing against your stomach.

You wind your arms around his neck, tugging him close so you can whisper in his ear.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

You giggle. "I bet we'd have really good bed chem."

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, pulling back only slightly as his grip on your waist tightens.

"Oooh... you have no idea what you just got yourself into."

* ✧･ﾟ: *

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things

The song continued replaying in your mind as you walked back to your dorm. You'd agreed to meet Liam in 30 minutes, and your dorm being at the very end of the hallway certainly didn't help.

That's bed chem

How you're looking at me yeah I know what that means and

I'm obsessed

Are you free next week?

I bet we'd have really good...

When you finally reached your dorm, you all but texted your friend goodnight before racing around the small joint like a racehorse. She wouldn't see it anyway, she left the club with Ridoc... and you knew what that meant.

The mental checklist ticked off with every task you completed; the cutest lingerie, running a brush through your hair, retouching your makeup...

Not that it mattered. You hoped it'd get ruined anyway.

One spritz of perfume later, and you were out the door, racing down the hall once more.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

You all but skipped to the boy's dorms, delusionally betting that you and him would arrive at the same time. Would his room be hot? Freezing cold? You paused in thought; maybe, he'd set it the perfect temp: 69.

You rounded the corner, finding dorm 15 and taking a deep breath. You really hoped this wouldn't only be better inside your head--

The chuckle you let out surprised you. It was Liam Mairi; surely, whatever happened would be perfect.

His door opened as soon as you walked up to it, and he leaned against the doorway with a lazy smile. He'd already done the honor of removing his shirt; and in your state of mind, your gaze roved over his ripping abs unashamedly.

"Stop oogling me and c'mere already," his voice came out deeper than when you heard it last, and a rush of heat went straight to your core. He reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you inside.

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

The room was dark, and sure enough; the perfect temperature. You giggled as he pulled you against him, his hands immediately finding your ass before squeezing.

You squeaked as he walked you to the bed, pushing you down upon it and leaning in to smash his lips onto yours. You groaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as his mouth moved against yours.

He broke away moments later, his fingers finding the hem of your dress and shoving it up to your waist. He sucked in a breath, his gaze lingering on the crotchless panties you so kindly wore for him.

How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things

"Fuck, baby..." he groaned, his fore and middle fingers parting the lacy garment in search. "Already so wet for me, aren't you, gorgeous?"

That's bed chem

You blushed, though you doubted he could see it in the moonlight. His fingers sank inside of you, so slowly... you moaned in satisfaction. He withdrew them, shoving them back in only a moment later.

"That's a good girl," he cooed, and you bit your bottom lip hard to surpress a moan threatening to break free. He leaned in, his idle thumb swiping across your lower lip before kissing you again. This time, he was more forceful, sliding his tongue in to explore your mouth with intrigue.

You had your own ideas though, as your fingers dipped below his waistband in search of his cock.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you found it.

"Oh Gods Liam... you're so big-"

He hissed when you started tugging on his length, his head thrown back at the sensation. After a few strokes he looked down at you again, hungrier than ever.

How you're looking at me yeah I know what that means and

I'm obsessed

His hand yanked your fingers off of him, and he slid his from you. In an instant, you were flipped onto your tummy, his fingers yanking your ass into the air. You felt his velvety skin against yours, his own hand fisting his cock a few times as he prepared to fuck you.

"You sure you still want this?"

You nodded, responding quietly.

"Please, Liam. Fuck me good."

He needed no more encouragement.

His long, thick cock thrust into you, so deep that you could only gasp at the feeling. Your pussy was instantly stretched to accomodate his size, and he loosed a breath at the sight before him.

Pulling out halfway, he rammed himself back in -- and again, and again. Small pants erupted from you, your forearms barely holding you upright on the mattress as he continued pounding mercilessly into you.

You arched your back, giving him a new angle to hit and he groaned. His fingers gripped your ass so hard you knew there would be bruises -- but, you didn't quite care.

"Fuck... this pussy was made for me, Y/N," he gritted out, his hips snapping against your ass at a quicker pace. "Fuckin' love how you feel."

You could only gurgle a response as one of his hands reached around your throat, giving a slight squeeze -- just enough that you saw stars.

"Oh God -- Liam, I'm gonna cum--"

You squeezed your eyes shut as pleasure-filled tears slipped out, the sensation of your pussy being absolutely wrecked guiding you to the edge faster than ever before.

"Fuck... oh fuck-"

He yanked his cock out of you, his cum spurting from it only a second later. Your walls clenched and released, the empty feeling inside no match for the orgasm rolling through you. Hot ropes of cum decorated your panties and ass, and Liam stared as he caught his breath behind you.

When you turned to face him, he was reaching for a towel on the floor. You turned back to face the sheets, your chest still rapidly rising and falling. He gently ran the fabric over you, cleaning up the remnants of your prior activities before chucking it to the floor once more.

"As much as I'd love for you to stay just like that," he begins, chuckling. "I think we should probably get some rest."

You giggle, turning to sit on the mattress properly as he got on beside you. He relaxed against the cushion, kicking off the heavy blanket and pulling the sheet up to his chin. He gave you a wide-eyed, sad puppy look before motioning for you to join him.

Who would you be if you didn't oblige?

You crawled beneath the sheets beside him, your head resting against his arm as he snuggled you close. You gazed right up into those beautiful blue eyes, sleep threatening to soon take you.

"Was that... did you..."

He grins, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"I guess you were right, Y/N. We really do have good bed chem."

You chuckled, the laughter soon turning into a yawn. Liam followed with one of his own, his eyes closing as he spoke again.

"And, you? Any thoughts?"

You grinned, closing your eyes as well.

"Just one... are you free next week?"

* ✧･ﾟ: *

[jazzy11scorpio]

Turns Out, He Liked Me Too

Chapter 1 Office Secrets

Summary: You're an assistant with a secret crush on your boss, Harry Castillo. After your fiancé cheats on you, a late night at work turns into unexpected encounter with Harry, who's also dealing with heartbreak.

Pairing: Reader x Harry Castillo

Tags ⚠️: Adult Content, MDNI, smut with plot, age gap (early 30's / late 40's), use of Y/N, unprotected sex, mention of cheating, boss/assistant, quickie, rough sex, oral sex (m/f), dirty talk, squirt, breast play, office sex, creampie, power dynamics, SMUT.

Word count: 3,7 k

Note: Hello, my dear readers! I'm back again! I've deleted my old blog, so consider this a fresh start. My writing inspiration has returned, and I'm so excited to share this new story with you. I really hope you enjoy it.

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

It was Monday morning, the start of another busy work week at Castillo Company. Your life felt… okay. You had a good job, someone you were going to marry, a future that looked right on paper. But under your calm life, you had growing feelings for your boss, Harry Castillo.

For the last two years, you had worked for him. You started at a low-level job, but you worked hard and were smart, so you quickly became his helper. Now, near the end of this time, you knew all about his business and helped him every day.

You really respected him. Harry was everything you liked in a leader: smart, driven, and surprisingly down-to-earth even though he was very rich. He was always nice and treated you with more care than just what you'd expect from a boss. Sometimes, that care even felt… personal. You'd see him look at you for a moment longer than needed, a warm feeling in his brown eyes that made your heart beat faster. But he was a good person and never did anything wrong, always acting like a boss should.

Still, those looks and that extra bit of kindness made you wonder "what if?" You tried to ignore it and focus on getting married and the future you had planned. But hiding your feelings for Harry felt like holding your breath – a constant, small worry.

This Monday was different from the start. Harry, who was always on time, was late. When he finally arrived, he seemed a little different. He seemed a bit happier, with a small smile, but his clothes looked a bit messy, which was not normal for him.

He walked into his office and quickly said, "Morning, [Y/N]," like a young boy, before sitting in his leather chair. "Coffee, please," he asked, his voice a little rough.

As you turned to make his usual black coffee, you felt a bit worried and also curious. What had made him late and act so unusual? And more importantly, how would this slightly strange start to the week make it harder to ignore your growing feelings for Harry?

You bring Harry his coffee, and the strong smell fills his office. "Good morning, Harry," you say, "Just a reminder, you have a meeting with the Sterling Group at ten, and Mr. Davies from accounting will come by around eleven."

He takes a thankful drink, a real smile on his face. "Thank you, [Y\N]. You always save the day." He sounded happier than usual.

You ask carefully, "Did you have a good weekend, Harry?" It was a normal question you often asked, but today, you were more curious than usual.

His smile got bigger, a bit more private this time. "Actually, yes, it was… quite nice." He stopped for a moment, then added, almost like he just remembered, "Could you order a very fancy bunch of red roses for me? Have them ready for tonight, around six." He looked at his watch.

A small, tight feeling started in your chest. So, there was someone. A date. Tonight. You imagined the beautiful red roses, which mean love and romance, and you felt a small, sharp feeling like jealousy, which you didn't want to feel. It reminded you that even though you worked closely with him, you weren't part of his personal life. The difference between boss and helper, between Harry and you, suddenly felt bigger and harder to cross.

You nod, trying not to show any emotion, putting on your work face. "Of course, Harry. A big bunch of red roses. Would you like a card with them?" You tried to sound calm and professional.

"Yes, a note would be a nice touch. Just something simple… for Lucy. How about: 'Looking forward to exploring where this beautiful serendipity might lead. Harry.'"

"Lucy?" you ask, the name feeling foreign and unwelcome on your tongue. You try to sound merely inquisitive, but a slight edge of curiosity, perhaps even a hint of something sharper, might have crept into your voice.

He leans back in his chair, a sigh escaping his lips. "Yes, Lucy. She's… quite something. A young matchmaker from New York. We met last night at Amelia and Charles' wedding party. Rather unexpectedly, actually."

A soft smile plays on his lips as he recounts the encounter. "Intelligent, driven… and quite charming, herself. I liked her. I'll swing by the florist around six to collect the roses before my date."

Young, ambitious, charming – everything you perhaps secretly wished you could be in his eyes, beyond just his efficient and reliable assistant.

Each word feels like a tiny poke to that little corner of your heart you try to keep locked away. Lucy. Met at a wedding – a party celebrating love. Sounds like things went well. And now, a date, complete with red roses and a casual but clearly interested note. It's a stark reminder that Harry has a life outside the office, a life that doesn't include you in that way. The lust you've been trying to ignore suddenly feels a little heavier, a little more… pointless. You make a mental note: red roses, card, Lucy, six o'clock pickup. Just another task. Right.

He leans back further in his chair, the earlier contentment still lingering. "And how was your weekend, [Y/N]?" he asks.

"It was fine, thank you," you reply. You manage a small smile, the practiced gesture feeling brittle and insincere even to your own ears. The image of Harry picking up those roses for another woman flashes in your mind, and the casual inquiry feels almost pointed, a stark reminder of the separate paths you walk.

Without waiting for a further response, you turn and leave his office, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you.

The day just crawled by. Harry's happy face talking about Lucy kept popping into your head, which was annoying enough. But then you got home, opened the door, and BAM. There he was. Your fiancé. With some other woman. Right there in your living room.

Yeah, you kind of lost it. Like, full-on crazy. All that pent-up frustration from work, mixed with the shock of seeing that… you just snapped. You started yelling, screaming, chasing them out of the apartment like a maniac. It was a total mess. Your hands were shaking, your voice was cracking, you were just… done. Done with pretending everything was fine, done with being blindsided like that. The whole picture of your life just shattered in that one awful moment.

The silence that followed their hasty exit was deafening. The apartment, once your home now felt tainted, poisoned by their betrayal. A hollow ache spread through your chest, a crushing weight of heartbreak and disillusionment. You felt utterly betrayed, not just by him, but by the future you had envisioned.

That night, you didn't reach out to anyone. You poured yourself a drink, then another, the cheap liquor burning a temporary path down your throat, a poor substitute for the inferno raging inside you. Alone in the suddenly vast emptiness of your apartment, the reality of your broken engagement sank in. The pain was a raw, gaping wound.

Compounding the agony was the unwelcome resurgence of those feelings for Harry. The man you couldn't have, who was now happily pursuing someone else. The unfairness of it all was a bitter pill. You loved Harry, a love you had tried to bury, and now, the man you were supposed to love had just ripped your world apart. The irony was cruel, the pain almost unbearable. The alcohol numbed the edges, but the core of your being ached with a profound loneliness, a stark realization of the double loss you were now facing.

The next morning dawned with a pounding headache and the lingering taste of cheap whiskey. You were late, the numbers on your alarm clock a blurry insult. Still reeling from the night before, a potent cocktail of anger and heartbreak churning in your gut, you rushed to get ready, the events of the previous evening replaying in fragmented, painful flashes.

Arriving at the office, disheveled and clearly not yourself, your colleague, Sarah, intercepted you near your desk. "Hey, [Y/N]! Harry's been looking for you. Said you two have an important appointment together this morning." There was a hint of concern in her voice, likely noticing your state.

You found Harry in his office, walking back and forth near the window. He wasn't calm like usual; his shoulders were tight. He turned when you came in, you saw a quick flash of anger on his face.

"You're late, [Y/N]. Our meeting with Dubois is in fifteen minutes." His voice was sharp, showing he was not happy.

But when he really looked at you, the anger seemed to go away, and he looked worried instead. He saw that you looked messy, with dark circles under your eyes, and that you seemed very upset.

His voice became soft right away. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? You don't look well." The earlier anger was gone, replaced by a quiet worry that, surprisingly, felt a little bit comforting when you were so upset.

Your hands shook as you looked at him, and you still had some tears from last night on your eyelashes. "I... I'm sorry for being late, Mr. Castillo," you said, your words getting stuck in your throat.

He walked closer to you, he saw your hands shaking a little and that your eyes were red. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and gently touched your arm, just above your elbow. It was a quick touch, but it was the first time he had ever touched you when it wasn't about work.

Being so close suddenly felt strange. You could smell his cologne, a light, nice smell that was always around him. His touch, even through your sleeve, was surprisingly warm, very different from the cold feeling inside you.

Then he moved his hand to take your right hand, holding it firmly but gently. His brown eyes looked into yours, really wanting to know why you were upset. "[Y/N], what is it? You don't seem good. You can tell me."

The warmth of his hand and the worry in his voice almost made you cry. For a moment, you thought about telling him everything – the bad thing that happened, the sadness, how your life felt like it was falling apart. But then, you felt cold inside. You couldn't bother him with this. Not now. Not ever.

You pulled your hand back, feeling a shiver even though the office was warm. Your voice was flat, with no feeling. "It's... nothing, Harry. Just life. You know how it is. Life is hard sometimes, I guess." You tried to smile a little, but it didn't look real. "I'll be fine. Really."

He looked a little unsure, he looked at you for another moment, his eyes searching, like he was trying to see past your fake smile. Finally, he sighed softly, and you could tell he was still a little worried.

He nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, his voice softer now. "I hope so, [Y/N]. I really do. But if you need anything… anything at all…" He stopped talking, leaving the offer hanging in the air between you. He didn't ask more questions, respecting that you didn't want to talk, but you could still see the worry in his eyes.

The meeting with Dubois went by quickly. Your head hurt a little, like a quiet echo of the sadness inside you. Harry, on the other hand, seemed happier. His earlier worry was gone, and he seemed a little excited about something. You tried to pay attention to the meeting, but you kept thinking about his hand on your arm, that quick moment when you felt close.

The workday ended, and you walked out of the office building. The cool evening air felt a little bit better against the upset feeling inside you. As you walked down the busy street towards home, you saw him. Harry. He was standing near a corner, a small smile on his face, looking at his watch. He was waiting for someone.

And then she came. Lucy. Young, full of life, with a bright smile that looked like his. You could feel a strong connection between them as they looked at each other. He greeted her with a warm kiss and a long hug that showed they were very close. His smile, the one he gave her, was open and real, very different from the polite worry he had shown you earlier.

Watching them, you felt a sharp, painful feeling in your chest. It felt like your heart was breaking into many small pieces. What you saw was a clear sign of what you had been trying not to think about.

As they walked away together, you could hear their quiet laughter in the evening air. You stood there, unable to move, feeling very empty. The world felt like it was spinning, and the familiar city around you looked blurry.

A quiet, sad sound came from your mouth, a raw cry from the deep sadness inside you. "What's wrong with me?" The question hung in the air, with no answer, showing how lonely you felt. "Why doesn't anyone love me? Why doesn't anyone want me?" The fact that the person you were going to marry had hurt you, and now seeing Harry happy with someone else, was a very cruel double blow.

That night, you couldn't sleep. The darkness was all around you, and the only sound was your quiet crying, each tear showing how broken your heart was. You kept seeing Harry and Lucy in your mind, their easy affection making your own loneliness feel even worse.

Days turned into weeks, each day reminding you of how broken your life felt. The sharp pain from what your fiancé did had started to become a dull, constant ache. But seeing Harry so happy was like a new, sharp pain. He seemed… bright. He was lighter, happier than you had ever seen him. Sometimes he would hum quietly to himself, he smiled easily, and his usual serious look was often softened by a dreamy look in his eyes.

Then one day he called you into his office, with a big, almost childish smile on his face. He held out his hand, and you saw a small, shiny ring in his palm. "Look at this, [Y/N]," he said, his voice full of excitement. "Isn't it beautiful?"

You held your breath. It was very beautiful – a classic style with a diamond in the middle that shone brightly. You knew what it meant. This was for Lucy. A real sign of the happiness you could only watch from far away.

You felt a tight knot in your chest. You managed a weak smile, and your voice didn't show how upset you were. "It's... stunning, Harry. Absolutely beautiful."

The words felt like they tasted bad. It was almost cruel. He, the man you had feelings for, was now showing you how happy he was about getting married to someone else.

The casual way he showed you the ring, asking for your opinion, felt like a strange, painful twist. It was a clear, shiny reminder of the life you couldn't have, the love that would never be yours.

The days kept going by, each one showing how different your lives were. Harry stayed happy, and the thought of getting married made him even brighter. You, on the other hand, went through your days acting calm, but the constant ache of your own sadness stayed with you.

Then one evening came. You were working late, the only one left in the quiet office. The city lights made long shadows on your desk as you worked on a very hard project. The only sound was the tapping of your fingers on the keyboard.

Suddenly, the door to the outer office opened, and Harry walked in. He wasn't walking with his usual energy; he looked tired. His shoulders were bent, and he had a frown on his face. He looked… sad. And yes, you could see a bit of that familiar, controlled anger under the surface.

He walked into his office, threw his briefcase on the leather couch, and turned to you. "[Y/N]," he said, his voice low and a bit rough. "Order some dinner for us. Something filling. And maybe… a bottle of that Cabernet we like."

You nodded, feeling a bit worried instead of surprised that he was back. You quickly ordered the food, the quiet efficiency a normal thing in the suddenly tense air.

Soon, the smell of grilled steak and roasted vegetables filled the office. Harry had poured himself a glass of wine, the red liquid moving in his hand as he looked out at the city lights.

You sat across from him at the small table, and the silence felt long and full of things unsaid. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and quietly spoke. "Harry," you started, your voice soft. "Is everything okay? You seem… worried."

He took a long sip of his wine, the silence stretching between you, thick with unspoken emotions. He finally looked at you, his brown eyes clouded with a genuine sadness you hadn't seen before. "Why is love so damn hard?" he asked, the question almost rhetorical, a sigh escaping his lips.

He swirled the wine in his glass again, "I thought… I thought I felt something real. Something… significant." He paused, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"Clearly, she didn't feel the same way. Lucy… she doesn't want to rush into marriage. Not yet, anyway."

He took another, larger gulp of the wine, the frustration evident in the set of his jaw. "Apparently, 'exploring where beautiful serendipity might lead' has a different timeline for her than it does for me."

He shook his head, a raw vulnerability in his expression. "No, worse than that. There's… someone else. She wants to be with someone else. Not me. What the hell is wrong with me?"

The raw pain in his voice hung in the air, mirroring the unspoken question that often echoed in your own mind.

You looked at Harry, your own recent pain still a raw ache in your chest. His raw vulnerability, the echo of your own question – "What's wrong with me?" – resonated deeply.

"Well," you said softly, your voice tinged with a weary understanding, "it's probably better she left you now, Harry. Better than finding her in bed with him later."

The image of your own devastating discovery flashed unbidden through your mind.

A flicker of realization crossed Harry's face, his brow furrowing as he truly saw you for the first time that evening. His gaze dropped to your bare ring finger.

"[Y/N]..." he started, his voice showing he was starting to understand. "Is that... is that why you haven't been wearing your ring anymore?" He looked back at you, his eyes searching, asking without words. "He...he cheated on you?"

One clear, simple word said yes to his question, a quiet way of agreeing about the shared sadness that suddenly connected you in a surprising and deep way. "Yes."

You looked at him, your own recent sadness still feeling fresh and painful. A strong feeling of wanting to protect him, a sudden wave of longing, grew inside you. Without thinking, the words came out, honest and real. "Harry," you said, your voice softer now, with a truth that cut through the tense feeling. "If I were her… I wouldn't wait even a moment to be your wife. To have the chance to love you…"

A deep quiet fell over him. He stopped moving, his eyes locked on yours, the sadness in his eyes slowly changing into something you couldn't read, a quick look of surprise, maybe even… understanding?

Suddenly, you felt very aware of yourself.

The wine you'd sipped felt like it had loosened your tongue too much. You stood up abruptly, a nervous energy coursing through you. "I… I should probably just… get back to work," you mumbled, avoiding his intense gaze. You knew you had crossed a line, revealed a truth you had tried so hard to conceal.

But before you could retreat, his voice, low and husky, stopped you in your tracks. "[Y/N]… wait."

A blush crept up your neck. "I... I'm sorry, Harry," you stammered, "This wine... I'm talking too much. Please, just forget I said anything." You tried to go away, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

His eyes, those warm brown eyes you had tried so hard not to dwell on, were now fixed intently on yours.

"No," he said, his voice low and unwavering. "Don't apologize. Don't take it back."

He stood up, closing the small distance between you. He took your hands, holding both of yours in his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, a stark contrast to the sudden heat rising in your cheeks.

"Tell me, [Y/N]," he urged, his voice softer now, "Tell me what you feel."

He searched your eyes, a knowing look in his. "I've... I've noticed, you know. The way you look at me sometimes. The little things. But I didn't want to… I didn't think it was… appropriate. But tell me. Please."

His gaze was intense, unwavering, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to truly see the vulnerability reflected in his eyes, a mirror to the turmoil in your own heart.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, the alcohol in your system amplifying your anxiety. "Look, Harry," you said, your voice a little shaky. "We're probably both just a little drunk right now. And… and you don't want me. I'm your assistant. And let's be honest, I'm not exactly your type."

The image of the beautiful Lucy, the woman he had just been heartbroken over, flashed in your mind. She was everything you weren't – confident, worldly, seemingly his equal.

His grip on your hands tightened slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Why do you think that is, [Y/N]?" he asked you.

"You are so incredibly beautiful. And smart. You anticipate my needs before I even voice them. You're the most capable person I know."

He paused, his thumbs gently stroking the back of your hands. "The only reason I never… flirted with you, the only reason I kept a professional distance, was because I knew you were engaged. I respected that. I wouldn't have crossed that line for anything."

His gaze softened, a hint of something deeper flickering in his brown eyes. "But now… things are different, aren't they?"

His thumb brushed softly across your cheek, the unexpected tenderness sending a jolt through you. "Tell me, [Y/N]," he urged, his voice a low, persuasive murmur. "Come on." His eyes held yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

The intimacy of the touch, the raw vulnerability in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a fleeting moment, the carefully constructed walls around your heart threatened to crumble.

But then, the image of Lucy, the beautiful ring, his earlier happiness, flashed through your mind. You pulled back, a sudden wave of doubt washing over you.

"Don't do this, Harry," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "You don't want this. You want her, Lucy. Not me. This is just… the wine. And pity."

"[Y/N]," he said, his voice firm, a hint of something akin to hurt in his tone. He reached out again, his hand gently cupping your other cheek, his gaze intense. "And who says I don't want you?" His eyes searched yours, a flicker of something undeniable igniting within their depths. "And don't tell me you don't feel it too. I know you want me, [Y/N]. I've seen it."

His gaze intensified, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me what you feel before, [Y/N]?" he asked, his voice a low, earnest murmur. "All this time… why the silence?"

You looked around him, a nervous energy bubbling up inside you. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered.

A wry smile touched your lips, a sudden boldness fueled by the wine and the raw honesty of the moment. "You wanted me to just… come in one morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? 'Good morning, Boss, here's your coffee. Oh, and by the way, I want you to fuck me right here on this table?'"

You gestured towards his imposing desk, then let your gaze drift to the supple leather couch in the corner. "Or maybe a more casual approach? 'Hello, Mr. Castillo Just wondering if you'd be interested in a little… riding session on that couch over there? Hmm?"

A surprised laugh escaped his lips, a genuine, unguarded sound that sent a thrill through you. He cursed softly under his breath, a mixture of shock and something else… something that felt a lot like desire.

He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, unexpected hug. His chin rested on the top of your head, and you could feel the warmth of his breath in your hair. "And you've been thinking all that about me, huh?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. The closeness was intoxicating, the unspoken tension finally beginning to crackle.

You leaned into his embrace, the unexpected warmth and security. "Yes, Harry," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper against his chest. "Every single day."

He tightened his hold, a low rumble vibrating in his chest. "Me too, darling," he admitted, his voice thick with a newfound intensity. "Every fucking moment I've seen you bent over your desk right here, I've imagined..."

Then he pulled back slightly, his eyes blazing with a raw, untamed desire. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough. "If you had only told me all this before… you have no idea how much I've wanted you."

Without another word, he swept you up into his arms, the suddenness of the movement taking your breath away. He carried you effortlessly, his gaze locked on yours, and gently placed you on the edge of his large mahogany desk, papers scattering slightly beneath you..

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he stepped closer, the hard ridge of his bulge pressing against your already aching core through your clothes. A low groan escaped his lips as he began to grind his hips against yours.

He started to kiss your neck, his lips hot and insistent against your skin. His hands, now free, roamed down your thighs, bunching up your skirt even further. Then, with a slow, deliberate slide, his fingers slipped beneath the elastic of your panties. You gasped as he found your slick heat, his touch sending a jolt of pure sensation through you.

He began to slowly rub your swollen clit, his knowing fingers eliciting a moan that escaped your lips. "So wet for me, darling," he murmured against your neck, his breath warm, "Just thinking about me, weren't you?"

Your own hands were busy too. You clumsily touched the buttons of his clean white shirt, your fingers shaking a little. As the shirt opened, you put your hands flat on his wide chest, feeling his heart beat fast under your palms. The warmth coming from his skin was very strong. Wanting to feel more, you reached down, your fingers closing around the hard, pulsing bulge pressing against his pants. He was very hard, showing the strong want that you felt too.

His fingers continued their exquisite torment between your legs, each slow, deliberate stroke sending waves of intense pleasure through you. "Tell me what you want, [Y/N]," he rasped against your ear, his breath hot.

Driven wild by his touch, you reached down, your fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. With a shaky breath, you unzipped his trousers and gently pulled out his huge cock. It sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand. You began to stroke him slowly, your fingers gliding along its length, feeling the powerful pulse beneath your touch.

"I want to feel every inch of you inside me, Harry," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Right now."

As you began to rhythmically jerk him off, his kisses grew more frantic, more demanding. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue plunging deep inside.

"Fuck, I want to feel that sweet mouth." he groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer against the edge of the desk. "Suck me, baby. I want to feel your mouth on me like you've been imagining"

He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest as you knelt before him. His hands found your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as you took him into your mouth. You savored the thick, hard length, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, your lips creating a tight seal. He tasted of pure, raw desire, and you plunged deeper, wanting to take every inch.

"Fuck, yes," he rasped, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "That's it, baby." His hips bucked slightly against your mouth, urging you deeper. You could feel the powerful pulse of his arousal against your tongue, driving you wild. You used your hands to grip his thighs, pulling him closer, your suction growing more insistent. "Swallow me whole, darling. Show me how much you want me"

He suddenly groaned, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling you back just enough so he could look into your eyes. His gaze was dark, primal. "Wait, not like this," he rasped, his voice thick with urgency. He stood abruptly, pulling you up with him, his eyes never leaving yours.

With a sudden, decisive movement, he reached down and ripped your panties, the thin fabric tearing with a sharp sound that echoed in the charged silence.

He didn't break eye contact as he turned you around, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you against the edge of the desk. The cool, smooth surface pressed against your stomach as he bent you over, your skirt riding high. "Now, like this," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. " I want to show how much I want to take you, right here, right now."

He leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed flesh, and then his tongue was there, a searingly intimate exploration of your wetness. He lapped and tasted, his ministrations sending jolts of pure, raw sensation through your core. You were slick and open, a desperate invitation he was now accepting. "So fucking wet for me," he growled against your skin. " And so ready for my cock"

Then, with a guttural groan that rumbled deep in his chest, he positioned himself behind you. You felt the thick, hard head of his cock pressing against your slick entrance.

Guiding himself with his hand, he plunged forward, burying himself deep inside you in one savage thrust.

A raw cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide, filling you completely, every inch of him claiming you. "Mine," he bit out against your neck. "You're mine now, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't think straight." The force of his entry made you gasp, the intense pleasure bordering on pain, a stark and thrilling initiation.

He started to fuck you faster, each thrust deep and relentless, slamming into your core. You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles white, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He leaned down, his hand gripping the back of your neck, tilting your head down towards the polished wood. His fingers then trailed to your lips, his thumb brushing across your swollen flesh. "Tell me how good this feels, [Y/N]" he growled.

A wild, reckless abandon surged through you. "So fucking good," you moaned, your voice husky and breathless. Then, a wicked little smile played on your lips. "Am I better than her?"

His grip on your neck tightened momentarily, a primal possessiveness flashing in his eyes. "Fuck yes," he bit out, his thrusts deepening with renewed intensity. "A million times better. You're fire, darling. Pure fucking fire."

He pulled back abruptly, his slick cock sliding out of you with a wet, sucking sound that echoed in the sudden stillness. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice rough with spent desire and a fresh wave of hunger.

You turned, your legs still shaky, your gaze locked on his hard, glistening cock. Without hesitation, he parted your thighs wider, his eyes burning into yours as he slammed back inside you, filling you completely once more. The force of his re-entry made you gasp.

Then, he shifted, lifting your legs and settling them onto his broad shoulders. His thrusts became even deeper, faster, hitting that sweet spot with relentless precision. "Open your shirt, baby," he growled, his breath hot against your neck. "Let me see them." You fumbled with the buttons, your breasts spilling free, heavy and flushed. He reached down with his right hand, his fingers finding your swollen, throbbing clit, rubbing with a knowing pressure. His left hand squeezed your nipple, tugging gently, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body.

The dual assault was overwhelming, and a strangled cry escaped your lips as you arched against his hand, the pleasure building. Your walls clenched around his thick cock as you came, a wave of pure, raw ecstasy washing over you.

Your body was still trembling from the force of your orgasm, but the insistent pressure of his cock deep inside you was already igniting a fresh wave of desire.

You looked down at him, your eyes glazed with lust, and gasped out, "Fuck me harder, boss."

His hand, still slick with your wetness, moved from your clit to your neck, his fingers pressing in your skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours, his eyes dark and possessive. "You feel so fucking good, [Y/N]," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight. I could stay buried inside you forever."

Then, with a guttural growl he began to thrust again, each stroke deeper, faster, more demanding than before. The rhythm built, a frantic dance of pure lust, until finally, with a shared, shuddering cry that ripped from your throats, you both reached your orgasam. He went still inside you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged. Then, with a satisfied groan, he leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, still fully embedded within your slick heat.

When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes were dark and possessive. "God, Y/N" he breathed, his voice thick with awe and regret. "I wish I had done this before. You're fucking amazing."

The crazy, amazing high of just being completely lost in each other starts to fade into this… softer, quieter thing. Harry's all gentle touches and little kisses on your forehead, holding you tight like he doesn't want to let go. It's nice. Really nice.

Then BAM. Knock, knock, on the door. And then you hear her voice. "Harry? You in there? It's Lucy."

Your stomach just drops. Lucy. Right now? Seriously? This is getting messy, fast.

"Shit," Harry mumbles. He looks at you, and it's this mix of "oh crap" and something else… maybe a little bit of "what now?"

You're already pulling your skirt down, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "Okay, I should go now," you whisper, feeling your cheeks heat up all over again. No way are you sticking around for that conversation.

But Harry reaches out, his hand catching yours. "Stay," he says, his voice low but firm. He quickly straightens his shirt, a new resolve hardening his features. Then, he walks to the door and opens it.

Lucy steps inside, her eyes widening in surprise as she takes in the disheveled state of the office… and then lands on you. A flicker of confusion, then something sharper, crosses her face.

"I wanted to talk to you alone, Harry," she says, her tone cool.

But Harry's grip on your hand tightens. "You can talk to me in front of her, Lucy," he states, his gaze unwavering. He doesn't let go of your hand, his touch a silent declaration.

Lucy looks from his hand to your face, clearly taken aback. You feel a flush creep up your neck. Not wanting to be the cause of further conflict, you gently pull your hand away from Harry's. "I... I should go," you murmur, offering Lucy a brief, apologetic nod before slipping out of the office, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air behind you. You don't want to hear their conversation. You just need to get away and process everything that just happened.

You didn't look back. You just walked, the rapid thump of your heart echoing in your ears. The office felt suddenly cavernous. You made your way to your desk, grabbed your bag, and practically flew out of the building. The cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to clear your head.

You walked for what felt like hours, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as your mind raced. Every touch, every word, every raw, desperate moment with Harry replayed itself. And then, the image of Lucy, her surprised face as she saw you, her demanding voice. What had just happened? What would he say to her? What did it all mean? Your body still hummed with the aftershocks of pleasure, but a cold dread was starting to set in. You had just completely upended your professional life, and possibly, your heart, all for a moment of desperate connection.

Sleep was impossible. You tossed and turned, the scent of Harry's cologne still lingering on your skin, a phantom warmth where his hands had been. The night stretched endlessly, filled with questions that had no answers and worry about what the morning would bring.

The next morning, you arrived at the office early, your nerves frayed, stomach in knots. You moved like a ghost, mechanically starting your computer, every click and whir seeming impossibly loud in the silence. You kept glancing at Harry's closed office door, a knot of dread tightening in your chest.

You'd barely settled when the outer office door creaked open. You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. But it wasn't Harry. It was Sarah, your colleague, her eyes wide as saucers, glued to her phone. She didn't even notice you at first, muttering to herself.

"Oh my god," she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Did you hear what happened? Harry and Lucy... " She finally looked up, seeing you, and her eyes widened further. "Oh, [Y/N]! You're here early!"

A cold wave washed over you. "What about Harry and Lucy?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, dread coiling in your stomach.

Sarah's gaze darted around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before leaning in conspiratorially. "Apparently," she began, lowering her voice, "Lucy showed up last night, and get this... she slapped him! Right there in his office, yelling about another woman!" Sarah paused for dramatic effect, clearly relishing the gossip. "The night security guard told Brenda in accounting everything. Said it was a total scene."

Your blood ran cold. The other woman. That was you. And he'd been holding your hand when she walked in. What had he told her? Or worse, what hadn't he told her? The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place, a terrifying picture of the chaos you'd inadvertently caused.

"And now," Sarah continued, oblivious to your internal turmoil, "no one's seen Harry. He's not answering his phone." She ended with a dramatic shrug.

You felt dizzy, the floor swaying beneath you. Harry was gone. Because of you. A heavy silence descended, broken only by the frantic beat of your own heart.

You were still reeling from Sarah's gossip, the word "slapped" echoing in your mind, when the main office door swung open with a bang. You flinched, your head snapping up.

It was Harry. He looked like hell. His usually immaculate suit was rumpled, his hair a mess, and his eyes… they were dark with a mixture of fury and something else you couldn't quite decipher. He saw you at your desk, and his jaw clenched.

"My office. Now." His voice was low, clipped, and utterly demanding.

You started to stammer out, "I just need to –" as the phone on your desk began to ring, a shrill interruption. But he cut you off, his voice rising, "Now, [Y/N]!"

Your colleague, Sarah, visibly stiffened at her own desk, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. Your stomach dropped. This was it. You were going to be fired. Your heart ached with a sudden, overwhelming sadness and worry. You slowly pushed yourself up, walking like a condemned woman towards his office, every step heavy.

As you reached his door, he stepped in behind you, and locked the door. You spun around, your hands trembling, the fear and sadness finally overflowing. "Harry," you choked out, tears welling in your eyes, "I'm so sorry. I… I heard what happened last night. I didn't mean to—"

But he didn't let you finish. He closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to cup your face. His thumb brushed away a tear, and then his mouth was on yours, roughly, desperately, silencing your apologies with a consuming kiss. It was deep, hungry, cutting off your breath and your words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still dark, but the fury had softened, replaced by an intense longing. He wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, darling," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "All night. Not for a single second."

"But… Lucy?" you whispered.

He looked into your eyes, "She wants me back," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. Then, his gaze held yours, unwavering, "But I'm already yours, my lady. Right?"

A tear, this time of overwhelming relief and joy, slipped down your cheek. You smiled through it, your heart soaring, and leaned in to kiss him fiercely. "Yes," you whispered against his lips, the word filled with all the love you had tried to hide. "Oh, Harry, I love you."

He let out a low groan, a sound of pure satisfaction, and in one swift motion, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the large leather couch in his office. He laid you down gently, but his movements were urgent, impatient. He quickly fumbled with your clothes, tearing at the fabric of your dress, a hungry look in his eyes.

"God, I need you naked," he breathed, his voice raw, as the dress gave way. "I need to feel all of you against me, right now."

You grabbed at Harry's clothes, your hands shaking with excitement, but a sudden thought made you shiver. "Slow down," you whispered, pushing gently against his chest. "Someone might hear or see us. We can't do this here."

He just looked at you, his eyes burning with a strong, uncaring passion. He reached down and held your chin. "Let them," he growled, his voice rough. "Let them know you're mine."

Then, he leaned in, his lips hot and firm on your neck, trailing kisses downwards. Easily, he unhooked your bra, letting it drop. His mouth found one breast, sucking and nipping softly, sending shivers through you as his other hand massaged the other. He kissed a path down your stomach, his warm lips creating a hot trail to your inner thighs. The same thrilling heat from last night sparked inside you, spreading fast.

He got on his knees, his hands reaching for your underwear, slowly pulling them down your legs. As he did, he lifted your legs, putting them on his wide shoulders. Then, he leaned forward, his head dropping, and you gasped as his hot tongue found your throbbing clit, beginning to pleasure you with slow, careful strokes.

He sucked harder, his tongue expertly teasing you, making you wild. You moaned, your hips naturally moving against his face. Then, two fingers, long and strong, gently pushed inside you, stretching your already pulsing core. "So tight and wet for me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice muffled by your clit. "Just as I knew you'd be. You're going to come for me right here."

You held onto his strong shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, as the pleasure grew, spinning out of control. A cry caught in your throat as your body arched, pushing down against his mouth, and you climaxed, hot and messy, onto his fingers, onto his tongue. He kept pleasing you, licking up every last bit of your release.

When you finally fell back against him, breathless and satisfied, he leaned back a bit, his eyes still dark with desire. He reached up, his fingers touching your wet lips, before leaning in and kissing you roughly, tasting yourself on his lips. "You taste like heaven, [Y/N]," he mumbled, his voice thick with desire. "So delicious. Makes me want to devour you all night."

He then stood up, his body clearly still needing more. He unbuckled his belt, and quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, showing his fully hard cock. He sat back down on the leather couch, his eyes shining with a challenge. "You said you wanted to ride your boss on this couch, sweetie," he growled, patting his lap. "So let's make that wish come true."

A playful smile touched your lips. You moved to sit on him, settling onto his lap. You took his hard cock in your hand, giving him a few slow, teasing rubs, the head of his shaft throbbing against your palm. You leaned down and kissed him, your tongue dancing with his, before slowly, so slowly, you rubbed the head of his cock against your wet folds, teasing him, putting off the moment.

He let out a desperate groan, his hips pushing up beneath you. "Damn, [Y/N]," he begged, his voice hoarse. "Just put me in. Please. I can't wait anymore."

You smiled, feeling powerful, and then, with a happy sigh, you slowly lowered yourself, guiding him deep inside you. A low moan escaped your lips as his thick cock filled you completely. You started bouncing on him, a slow, steady rhythm that soon got faster. His grip on your ass tightened, his fingers digging in as you rode him. He leaned back, pulling your head down, biting your neck, his teeth gently scraping your skin, and you loved it, the sharp pleasure mirroring the raw force of his pushes. The wet, smacking sound of skin on skin filled the office, a rhythmic sign of the raw, wild passion.

"You're so incredibly tight," he groaned, his hips rising to meet your drops. "Every part of you is hugging my cock. God, this feels so good. Ride me harder, baby. Show me how much you love this."

He began to push up into you, meeting your every bounce with strong upward drives. Your body arched, chest heaving, as you rode him with desperate hunger, the feeling building to an amazing peak. Each groan, each gasp, each wet slap of flesh on flesh showed the intense need you both felt.

You rode him with fierce intensity, the pleasure building with every thrust. "Was she good like this?" you whispered, the provocative question escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Was Lucy like this, Harry? Did she make you groan like this?"

His rhythm hitched, and a dark look crossed his face. "No," he growled, his voice tight with displeasure. "Don't ever mention her. Please. Not when I have this. When now I have you"

Then, with a sudden surge of power, he lifted you from his lap, he pushed you gently onto the leather couch, so you were on your knees, holding onto the backrest.

He positioned himself behind you, and with a guttural groan, slammed back inside you from the back. This time, he was harder, more primal, more passionate. He leaned closer, his arm wrapping around your neck, his hand cupping your jaw as he kissed your lips fiercely. Your breasts were pressed flat against the cool leather, nipples aching.

"I'm going to come again," you gasped, your body already arching back into him. "Oh God, Harry."

"Good girl," he bit out, his voice a low, rough command. "Let me feel every fucking bit of it. Give me all of it, right here, right now. Show me how much you need me." He thrust harder, faster, his weight bearing down on you, pinning you against the couch. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it mercilessly, pushing you over the edge.

A scream tore from your throat as you came, your walls convulsing around his cock. You felt a gush of warmth as you squirted, milking him, saturating him with your wetness. He groaned, a deep, satisfied sound, feeling your release engulf him. "That's it, darling," he rasped, his voice thick with his own impending climax.

"Feel how much you make me want you. You're absolutely perfect. God, you just broke me open."

He then pulled back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and with a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, filling you completely with his hot, thick release. "I love when you fill me up, Sir," you whispered, your voice hoarse, utterly spent. "I love being filled by you."

He shifted, turning you gently, and pulled you into a tight embrace. He kissed you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the raw passion of moments before. You lay together on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, his touch gentle and sweet.

"I love you, [Y/N]," he murmured, his voice soft, almost vulnerable against your hair. "I think… I think I've loved you for a long time. I just never let myself see it. You're everything I never knew I needed."

You burrowed deeper into his embrace, your heart overflowing. "I love you too, Harry," you whispered back, tears pricking your eyes. "More than words. And I've wanted you, longed for you, for so long."

You lay wrapped in Harry's arms on the leather couch, the lingering warmth of your shared passion a comforting weight. The world outside the office seemed a million miles away, but then a thought pricked at the edges of your blissful haze.

"Harry," you murmured, your voice still husky. "What happened last night with Lucy? I heard… I heard she slapped you."

He sighed, the sound vibrating against your cheek as he held you tighter. "She did," he confirmed, his voice a low rumble. "I told her I didn't want her anymore. That I was… with someone else now. She didn't take it well." He leaned down and kissed your hair, then your temple.

Just as his lips touched your skin, his phone, forgotten somewhere on the desk, began to vibrate insistently. Sarah's name flashed on the screen, a relentless series of missed calls turning into a new incoming one. Harry glanced at it, a frown touching his lips.

"It's Sarah," he said, pulling back slightly. "She says Lucy's outside. Again."

Your stomach clenched. Again? A wave of dread washed over you, mixing with the heady aftermath of your lovemaking. This was too much. You scrambled to sit up. "I have to go," you whispered, pushing against his chest. "I can't be seen here."

Harry, however, seemed to have other ideas. He quickly stood up, his movements decisive, and helped you gather your scattered clothes. As you hastily pulled on your dress, he smoothed his own shirt, running a hand through his hair to tame it.

"Don't go yet," he said, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint that, despite the chaos, made your heart flutter. "I want to ask you something."

He walked to the door, his hand on the handle, as Lucy's insistent knocking began again, louder this time, accompanied by a frustrated shout of his name. He ignored it, turning back to you, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Will you go on a proper date with me tonight, [Y/N]?" he asked, "Dinner. Just us."

The knocking outside ceased abruptly. A chilling silence fell, then a sharp, audible gasp. You saw Lucy's shadow shift beneath the crack of the door. She had heard him. Every word.

Harry, oblivious or simply uncaring, took a step towards you, his hand reaching out. "Well?" he prompted, his eyes full of hope.

You glanced at the door, then back at Harry's hopeful face. The situation was exploding, but a defiant thrill shot through you. You could almost feel Lucy's fury radiating through the wood.

"Yes, Harry," you said, your voice firm, a triumphant smile finally breaking through. "I'd love to go on a date with you tonight."

The heavy silence from the hallway lingered, pregnant with unspoken rage. You knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that Lucy had just heard your answer. And you also knew this was only the beginning of the drama.

Harry opened the door. The moment he did, Lucy almost ran past him, her eyes still angry, but now with a hint of something else—despair. She didn't even see you at first, focused only on Harry.

"Harry, I am so, so sorry," she started, her voice sounding truly regretful, though some of her usual sharp edge was still there. She reached out and gently touched his arm. "Last night was… a mistake. I was upset. I just… I want to talk. Can we please get a drink? Just us. Like we planned." Her eyes begged him, a big change from the angry woman who had just been banging on the door.

Harry looked from her hand on his arm to your shocked face, then back to Lucy. His jaw was firm, and his face showed no doubt. "Lucy," he said, his voice steady, "there's nothing to talk about. And no, we're not getting a drink."

Lucy's face sagged a little, but then her eyes narrowed, looking at you with sudden meanness. "But… who is this?" she asked. "Harry, what is she doing here? What was that about a date?" She waved her hands between you and Harry, losing her calm. "You said you didn't want me anymore because of her?" Her voice got louder, almost a shout, the despair turning into fresh anger. "Your assistant? Really, Harry? This is a joke!"

You felt your face get hot, but Harry didn't move. He stepped closer to you, subtly placing himself between you and Lucy, his hand finding your arm again. "Lucy," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "you need to leave. Now."

Lucy's eyes narrowed, a cold fury replacing the desperation. "You're going to regret this, Harry," she hissed, her voice low and venomous.

Harry just smiled, a confident, almost triumphant curve of his lips. "It looks like I'm not the one who regrets things, Lucy."

Her face turned red with anger. She spun around fast and marched out of the office.

Harry turned to you, the tension in his body relaxing as he took your hand. You could feel your coworkers trying to sneak looks and listen from their desks. Harry didn't care what they thought. He leaned in and gently kissed your lips, a soft kiss that made your still-shaking body feel warm.

"I'll pick you up at six," he whispered, his eyes shining with a soft promise. "And I have a surprise for you."

A real smile finally spread across your face. You felt happy, but still a little shaky from everything that had happened. "Thank you," you said, your voice a bit wobbly. "I'm so happy. I'll see you then."

You squeezed his hand, then turned and walked out of the office. The weight of the day, and the amazing things that had just happened, felt heavy on you. You knew for sure that your life had just changed forever.

Chapter 2 next week ☺️

Thank you for the reading 💜

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 (here) | Chapter 5 | ...

Masterlist

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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Cafe Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Traveler, Paimon

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. There is a taglist if you want to be tagged.

I am also sorry about the sudden disappearance guys. I fell down the stairs and somehow got into a coma. I fear that this is because of the AO3 curse bcs I was going to publish one of my works there so uhh ig I won't now bcs of what happened. Sorry about that guys. I woke up a week ago and I'm now a-okay. }

As a compensation, I am planning to release 3-4 chapters after this week :)

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Its been 2 weeks since the Traveler and Paimon had known about the existence of your otherworldy café, and within that time period, you guys have learned that the door only appears on Teyvat at weekedays. Both of them were devastated at the news. Literally. They spent their whole weekdays with you, they were pouting and whining at how they won't be able to talk to you much more or taste your meals, pastry, and refreshments though, the complaints mostly came from Paimon.

Their sincere sadness, pouts, and sorrowful eyes tugged at your heartstrings, evoking strong sympathy for both of them. They seem to clearly love your creations far more than anything they could prepare or purchase for themselves, so you made up your mind to surprise them for their lovely company and advices in making much more better food. You put your very heart and soul into making something special for your dearly beloved friends, hoping that they won't look so down as much as before when it is time for them to say goodbye.

You were so absorbed in organizing and preparing your suprise that the weekend almost passed you by. You looked at the old ticking clock besise the cashier register and saw that it was 6:55 pm, which was only a few minutes before your scheduled meeting time. You hastily cleaned up after hiding the suprise somewhere they can't quite see. You didn't want any people to recognize them because it would cause tons of trouble not only for you but for Traveller and Paimon as well. So you decided to meet up every 7:00 pm after you close for the day.

At exactly when the clock struck 7:00 pm the door you were once so afraid opened, the soft chime of the bell announced the arrival of your guests. Clearing your throat, you called out cheerfully, 'Welcome, dear customers! Feel free to sit anywhere you like!' The sound of the Traveller’s soft giggles reached your ears, and you turned to greet them with a warm smile. 'Hello, Boss!' they responded in unison, their familiar voices filling the room with an air of comfort and familiarity.

"(Reader)!!!!", Paimon exclaimed, twirling around you like an excited cat seeing its owner after a long time of absence. Though, instead of nearly tripping over her, you found yourself feeling quite a bit dizzy with her rapid spins round you. Thankfully, the Traveller noticed and swiftly grabbed Paimon by the collar of her clothing. "GAAHHH!", she yelped, her playful demeanor momentarily interrupted. "Could you stop spinning around (Reader) for a moment? They're getting quite a bit dizzy with your twirls." the Traveller gently scolded her, a hint of amusement in their voice.

“Hehe, it’s okay! But, Paimon, could you keep your spinning to a minimum? I won’t be able to greet you properly if I suddenly pass out from all the dizziness,” you teased, a playful smile on your face. Paimon’s expression shifted to one of shock. “NOOO! (Reader)! You still need to make me delicious foodddd!” she exclaimed, kicking her feet in the air as if throwing a tantrum. “Come on, Paimon. (Reader)’s just joking with you,” the Traveller said with a sigh, rolling their eyes at Paimon’s dramatic antics.

“Now, let’s settle down, shall we? I have a new item on the menu today. Would you like to give it a try? Here it is; you can read the description and decide if you want to sample it,” you said, handing them two menus. Paimon scrutinized the menu intently before shouting, “The same as usual, (Reader)! And also, one order of the new item!”

The Traveller smiled and added, “I’ll have one Cheesy Tortellini and Sausage Bake, one Creamy Chicken and Rice Soup, and one Iced Pumpkin Cream Chai.”

“Oh my! That’s quite a feast! Rough day?” you asked, taking notes of their orders. “I’ll make sure to throw in some extras for you.”

"*Sigh*, yes. It was a really rough day. *mumble**mumble*." You couldn't quite pick up what they said after but it seems that they truly had a real hard time judging by their deep sigh and slumped shoulders.

You went straight to the kitchen to whip up their orders while you kept a close eye on the suprise that you still kept hidden.

After a flurry of activity in the kitchen, you finally finished preparing their orders. With a warm smile, you approached the table, balancing the plates with practiced ease. "Alright, you two, no more frowning," you chided playfully, setting the dishes down one by one. "Dig in! You must be starving by now."

As you arranged the plates, you added with a wink, "Oh, and I threw in some Strawberry Creampuffs—compliments of the house. Consider it a little treat for my favorite duo."

Paimon's eyes widened to the size of saucers, her tiny hands already reaching for the pastries before you could even finish speaking. "Wait, for free?! (Reader), you're the best!" she squealed, clutching a creampuff like it was a treasure. She took a bite, and her face lit up with pure delight. "Mmm! These are heavenly! Paimon could eat a hundred of these!" She floated in the air, twirling with joy, her excitement infectious.

The Traveler chuckled softly, shaking their head at Paimon's antics. "Thank you, (Reader). You really didn’t have to, but we appreciate it." They picked up a creampuff, their expression softening as they took a bite. "These are amazing. You’ve outdone yourself again."

You leaned against the table, watching them enjoy the food with a satisfied grin. Seeing their smiles was always worth the effort.

"Alright, alright, take your time eating," you said with a soft chuckle, stepping back from the table. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." With a warm smile, you turned and made your way to the back, your mind already buzzing with excitement.

You had a surprise for them—a special thank-you gift. Since the door doesn't appear on the weekends, you’d spent the last few days preparing an extravagant feast. It was your way of showing gratitude for their constant companionship and the joy they brought into your life. The portions were enormous, enough to last them for days—or, knowing Paimon, maybe just one. You smirked to yourself, wondering how they’d even carry it all. But then again, the Traveler’s magical inventory space was a blessing in disguise, so you’d gone all out without a second thought.

Your café had been thriving lately, with a steady stream of wealthy customers placing large commission orders. The influx of money was more than welcome, though the workload was starting to wear on you. Juggling the demands of your high-profile clients and the everyday crowd was exhausting. Maybe it was time to hire some help. The idea struck you like a bolt of inspiration, and you quickly pulled out your phone to jot it down in your notes. Hire workers. Soon. 3 workers perhaps.

But for now, your focus was on the present—literally. You glanced at the array of pastries you’d set aside earlier. Paimon’s delighted squeals from the dining area echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but smile. Why not add a little more? You had plenty of leftovers from today, and serving them tomorrow didn’t sit right with you. Giving them to the Traveler and Paimon was a far better option than tossing them out. Besides, their magical inventory would keep everything fresh indefinitely.

With that decided, you grabbed a large container and began filling it with an assortment of treats. A half Greek Yogurt Tangerine Cake, eclairs, chou à la crème, flan, lemon tarts, and egg tarts—each one carefully placed inside. The container was soon overflowing with a colorful variety of pastries, each one a testament to your hard work and creativity. You left a little bit to yourself to eat at home later as a good job treat.

You stepped back, admiring your handiwork. This was more than just food; it was a token of your friendship, a way to say thank you in the sweetest way possible.

Stepping back into the dining area, you found the duo slumped in their seats, looking thoroughly satisfied—and perhaps a little too full. Their slightly bloated appearances were hard to miss, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Oh deary me, you two look like you’ve been through a feast fit for a king!” you teased, walking over to clear the plates. As you picked them up, you noticed, not for the first time, that not a single crumb remained. It was impressive, though not as shocking as the first time you’d witnessed their bottomless appetites. Back then, you’d been utterly floored. Now, it was just another reminder of how much they adored your cooking.

The Traveler’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but they quickly recovered, flashing you a sheepish grin. “Well, what can we say? Your cooking is to die for, (Reader).” Their tone was smooth, almost suave, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at their attempt to save face.

“Thank you, Traveler,” you replied warmly, stacking the plates neatly. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”

Just then, the Traveler reached into their pocket and pulled out a small pouch, placing it on the table with a soft clink. “Oh, right! Here’s our payment. As always, it’s worth every mora.”

You picked up the pouch, feeling the satisfying weight of the mora inside. “Thank you, dear customer,” you said with a playful bow, tucking the pouch into your apron pocket. “Your patronage is always appreciated.”

“Oh, right! Stay there for a moment—don’t come into the kitchen,” you said, holding up a hand to stop them as you hurried back to the kitchen with the stack of plates. Paimon and the Traveler exchanged curious glances, their usual routine of following you to the front bar momentarily interrupted. Reluctantly, they took their usual seats, waiting patiently but with growing curiosity.

From the kitchen, they heard a faint grunt, followed by the sound of something heavy being shifted. Paimon’s ears perked up, and the Traveler leaned forward, concern flickering across their face. “(Reader), are you okay? Do you need help?” they called out, halfway out of their seats.

“No need, no need!” you replied, your voice slightly strained but cheerful. “This thing’s just a bit heavier than I expected, but I’ve got it under control!” Moments later, you emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing two large, cloth-covered containers in your arms. You set them down gently on the counter in front of them, your face flushed but triumphant. “Wait, there’s still more. Don’t touch them yet!” you warned, holding up a finger before darting back into the kitchen.

When you returned, you were carrying yet another cloth-covered container—this one filled with the assortment of pastries you’d prepared earlier. Paimon’s eyes widened, and the Traveler tilted their head, their curiosity now fully piqued.

“(Reader), what are these? They smell amazing—and they look huge!” the Traveler asked, their voice tinged with awe.

With a dramatic flourish and a smug grin, you pulled the cloths away, revealing the contents. “Ta-da! This is my surprise gift for you! Are you shocked?” you announced, clearly pleased with yourself.

Paimon gasped, floating closer to inspect the containers. “Wait, these three ginormous things are for us? Paimon loves them already! But, uh… what exactly are they?” She scratched her head, her tiny face scrunched up in confusion.

You chuckled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter. “Well, since we can’t meet on weekends, I thought I’d send you off with enough food to last you a while. Consider it a thank-you for always keeping me company. There’s a bit of everything in there—main dishes, snacks, and, of course, plenty of pastries for someone with a particular sweet tooth.” You shot Paimon a knowing look, and she beamed, already reaching for one of the containers.

The Traveler’s eyes softened, a grateful smile spreading across their face. “(Reader), you really didn’t have to go through all this trouble… but thank you. This means a lot to us.”

“Nuh-uh!” you said sharply, your eyes narrowing as you caught the Traveler’s hand reaching for the pouch of mora at their waist. “It’s on the house! The payment you’ve already given is more than enough to cover all of this,” you insisted, waving your hands emphatically.

And it was the truth. Thanks to the connections you’d built with your high-profile regulars, you’d found a discreet way to convert mora into gold bars, bypassing the government’s watchful eyes (fanfiction logic, of course). Those gold bars had opened doors to even more lucrative opportunities, leaving you with more than enough wealth to afford this generous gesture.

“But—” the Traveler started, their brow furrowed in protest.

“No buts!” you interrupted, placing a hand over their mouth to silence them. “That’s final,” you said firmly, though your eyes sparkled with warmth. “Besides, this is my way of saying thank you—for your companionship, for listening to me rant about rude customers, and for always brightening my day. You two mean a lot to me, and this is the least I can do.”

Paimon, who had been floating nearby with a pastry already in hand, grinned from ear to ear. “See, Traveler? (Reader) says it’s fine, so stop being so stubborn! Paimon’s not complaining about free food!”

The Traveler sighed, their resistance melting away as they shook their head with a soft chuckle. “Alright, alright. We’ll accept your gift—but only because you’re being so insistent.”

You laughed, stepping back and crossing your arms with a satisfied smile. “Good! Now, make sure to enjoy every bite. And don’t even think about trying to sneak mora into my apron later—I’ll know!”

The Traveler simply smiled at you, a look of helpless gratitude in their eyes, and nodded in understanding. They knew better than to argue with you when you were this determined.

The café was soon filled with the sound of laughter and lively conversation as the three of you shared one last chat before it was time for them to leave. The warmth of the moment made the impending goodbye a little easier to bear.

Finally, Paimon floated toward the door, her tiny hands waving excitedly. “Goodbye, (Reader)! We’ll see you again in two days! Make sure to take care of yourself, okay?” she chirped, her voice brimming with genuine affection.

Beside her, the Traveler stood, balancing the three large cloth-covered containers with ease. They gave you a nod, their expression soft but resolute. “We’ll be back soon. Don’t overwork yourself,” they added, their tone gentle but firm.

You smiled, feeling a bittersweet tug in your chest. “Same to you two. Safe travels, and don’t let Paimon eat everything in one sitting!” you teased, earning a playful pout from the floating fairy.

Paimon reached for the door and swung it open, revealing the sprawling landscape of Guili Plains. In the distance, the towering silhouette of Wangshu Inn stood against the horizon, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

You waved as they stepped through the doorway, their figures framed by the breathtaking view of their world. “See you soon!” you called out, your voice carrying a mix of fondness and anticipation.

The door closed softly behind them, leaving the café quiet once more. You stood there for a moment, the warmth of their presence lingering in the air, before turning back to the kitchen with a smile. Two days would pass quickly, and you already couldn’t wait to see them again.

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Taglist:

@kameyo-kumo @esthelily @haru-tofuu @udretlnea @shining-nebula2000 @ifeellikejumpingoffacliff @resident-cryptid @allblognamesaretakenlikereally @leilakaro @stvrbrighttt @chericia @evaline-ethan @ra404 @mmmhyperfixation @original-person @chaoticfivesworld @lexal-amber-rose @floofeh-purpi @time-shardz @animeobsessed56 @fantasyhopperhea @yuan1819

I'm sorry to those in the taglists whose names didn't tag them. Tumblr doesn't want them. I even double checked your accounts.

[starmocha]

i'm on the run with you, my sweet love [Sylus/Reader ★ 3737 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Forever your ride or die. A/N: Happy New Year! I’ve had this story written since Christmas 2024, but I had decided to save it to ring in the new year instead. Kind of based on my favorite Sylus phone call: As You Wish. This is…very………vague…….something…… I’m here for the vibes mostly. :’) Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia 【 request to be added 】

When everything came to a pause, when the whole world had shifted and all eyes were on you, a bounty had been placed on your head and your name suddenly known to the whole universe.

He had whisked you away, his hand in yours, no questions asked.

Where you go, I’ll go with you, he had said, his hold firm, his vow unyielding.

It’s not safe with me. They’ll get you, too, you had warned, giving his hand a little squeeze, almost afraid that you would lose him as well.

Sounds exciting, sweetie.

He had smirked, his lips on yours, a promise that nothing would ever sever his bond with you.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, head pressed to his back, and the sound of his motorcycle raced down the dusty road to nowhere. A trail of dust was left behind, the heat of the sun bore down on you, and the unknown future awaited both of you in the distance.

On the way to the end of the world, you said goodbye to what you had once thought was home, all of the people who had ever loved you were gone.

Except him.

Are you crying?

…No…

Let me hold you. For me.

…Okay…just for you, though…

Thank you, sweetie.

In an unassuming shabby safehouse, one of many he owned around the world, you felt a moment of peace, as false as it may be.

He paced the living room, exhaustion etched on his features. He still hadn’t adjusted to this daytime schedule, and though not a word of complaint or discomfort ever left his lips, you knew he had been pushing himself to his limits to keep you safe.

Sylus, you called, worried, come rest.

He reassured you with a smile, a near perfect façade had it been anyone else he was trying to fool. You knew when he would put on a mask, and you didn’t like it—you were upset that he was lying to you for your sake.

I’m tired, you fibbed, Can we nap together?

Strange how you didn’t feel any qualms about lying for his sake instead. You supposed you were a hypocrite.

Very well. He seemed to concede. What a fussy kitten.

There was no malice in his words. There never were.

You guided his head to your lap, his body barely fitting on the small sofa, but it would do. You stroked his hair, seeing him surrendering to his exhaustion—surrendering to you, as well.

You hummed a song, something light and soothing. His soft snoring soon joined your melody, the two sounds bringing life to this long unoccupied house.

For a moment, this unassuming, shabby safehouse almost felt like a home.

It would be nice to make this place a true home with him, you thought. Some fresh flowers, a little sunlight, and maybe a picture or two could help with the illusion.

Such wishful thinking. You knew in a few days you would both need to leave. This was only temporary.

You needed to go farther—to the place where everything was new and you were nothing more than an unknown drifter seeking something permanent.

For now, though, you both rested. You let your song soothed him, just as his presence had given you hope.

You often wondered what permanent looked like. You also wondered if you and he had the same definition for the word. There were more idle times now than before, so you both humored one another with your own thoughts and whims.

A little cottage in the woods, you thought aloud as you and he lazed about on the couch. You could have a little vegetable garden, and maybe you could also learn how to make your own bread as well.

He could hunt, or perhaps, he could also put his fishing skills to use.

You might even raise chickens. Maybe some ducks, too.

Sweetie, you have it all planned out, he teased, pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away, but you couldn’t deny this. You had thought about this life. Thought about it often, in fact. You couldn’t help it. It seemed you had more time to let your mind wander.

Well, you weren’t alone. He also had his own thoughts, his own vision he wished to share.

A seaside house on a cliff, he suggested, adding, We could watch dolphins from the balcony. And have a gin fizz or two.

You laughed and shook your head. What, no tequila?

Tequila can be for breakfast, he added, matching your humor with the same tone and a playful smirk.

We could also have a hot tub on the deck, he added with a lecherous smirk on his handsome face. A nice soak as we watch the sun set over the horizon.

Yeah? Your heart beat faster, his lips looming near yours.

We could also stargaze together, he continued in that same easy tone. So teasingly close, his lips just barely ghosted against yours. He must be doing this on purpose, wanting to see you fluster and squirm because of him. What a scoundrel.

You have it all planned out, you echoed his earlier words back to him, his immediate response that nearly insufferable trademark smirk of his. You caved in first, eagerly taking his lips, wanting to quell the growing heat between the two of you.

He succumbed to your whims, his back suddenly against the couch cushions, your body on top of his. He answered your desperation with his own, all lucid thoughts leaving as you both submitted to your instincts, letting your desires guide you both to Heaven and Hell and back again.

An apartment in the city.

In the city? Again, sweetie?

What better place than hidden in plain sight?

A clever kitten.

You remembered wining and dining under starry skies. The rich food filled your belly wonderfully and the aged wine tasted like the sacred nectar of the gods. Blissfully tipsy, you remembered dancing with him on a rooftop, swaying and twirling, feeling like you were on cloud nine as the stars above shined brilliantly while city lights twinkled and gleamed.

In a humid, cramped bus, you leaned against his shoulder, remembering distant memories that might as well just be silly old fairy tales.

The days blended together. Most days, you weren’t sure if it was Monday or Tuesday, or perhaps it was neither, and it was actually Thursday.

He had acquired a car. Temporary, just like everything else in your life had been these past few months. As he filled the car with gas, you wandered into the convenience store. That particular scent hit you instantly, a strange feeling of nostalgia for something you had never missed.

You wandered down the aisles, hand skimming over the different snacks on display. None of them really caught your eyes or stirred up a craving, but you still picked out a few just in case. As you were checking out, you also grabbed an ice cream bar. The heat was unbearable and a strawberry shortcake bar suddenly sounded enticing. You missed the taste of fresh fruits, something that you never thought would one day be scarce and a sudden luxury.

As you left the store, ice cream bar unwrapped and the refreshing, cooling sweet taste on your tongue, you remembered the time when you and he went to pick strawberries together.

He had already finished refilling the gas tank. As he leaned against the car waiting for you, sunglasses over his eyes, you approached him, holding the cold treat up.

Want a bite?

He smirked, and took a generous bite to your dismay.

H-hey! That was a big bite!

Sorry, sweetie. He didn’t sound apologetic at all. What a prick.

I hope you get brain freeze.

And he laughed, already getting back into the car with you following suit. When you turned to buckle your seatbelt, his hand was on your cheek, already guiding you to his lips. He kissed you sweetly, nibbling on your lips as he tasted you.

When he parted, he smirked at your confusion, your breathing still shaky.

You had ice cream on your lips, he answered matter-of-factly.

Flustered, it took your brain a few seconds too long to register his mischievous words. When it finally clicked, you leaned back over, this time surprising him as you took charge. You kissed as if it was your last, as if he was the air that you needed, and he responded with equal fervor, treating you like a gift bestowed upon him by the highest being, or perhaps more like a forbidden treasure he had greedily coveted. Before the growing lust could cloud your mind, all semblance of reality returned when you heard the incessant honking from the car behind you, and had he been in a sour mood, perhaps there would have been an altercation, one that would end horrendously for the other party, of course.

But he smirked. He leered at the car behind him before speeding off. As he drove, you noticed him licking his lips.

Strawberry, he said, pondering, We should get this ice cream bar again.

You agreed, delighting in the taste of him that still lingered on your lips.

All thoughts disappeared, all of those dirty matrasses from dingy motel rooms didn’t seem to matter. You would always welcome him into you, the late, long nights of lovemaking a sweet escape from the reality you lived. In these little moments of you and him, he was your whole world and you were his. Deep kisses branded your skin, the heated moans of you and him mingled with every movement, every pulse, the need to chase after that paradise heightened by the shared growing passion.

You had memorized his every feature, his every being. The jewel-like crimson eyes of his always reflecting his deep devotion to you, the promise to always surrender to you had long been fulfilled. With every searing hot touch, he worshiped you like a devout man knelt at the altar of a goddess, beseeching her blessings.

He satisfied all of your needs, your desires his to fulfill, willingly and devotedly. No rules to bind you, nothing more to lose, you succumbed to your desires, drifting off to a state of pure euphoria only he could bring you to, just as you were all that he longed for, the only one who he would let rule his heart and bring him to his knees.

When you returned from your high, with the threat of dawn looming, he held you close, gentle fingers threading through your hair soothingly, his warm, deep voice feeling like home.

He lulled you with words of a distant future.

Maybe…we can get a dog.

You laughed. You don’t seem like a dog person, you reminded him, your finger poking his cheek in jest.

He smiled, and grabbed your wrist. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, the simple act had you stilling with pretty rosy cheeks, illuminated in the dark by a single ray of moonlight.

A cat then, he said, his voice teasing. He stroked your cheek, his fingers just barely skimming against your skin. Maybe two, so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Yeah? you asked, breathless, What else?

He hummed as he contemplated. White picket fences…Have coffee ready for you in the morning…red checkered blanket and a picnic under the sun…

It doesn’t sound like you… you quipped.

It could be me, he responded, his hand moving to tuck strands of hair behind your ear, his soft voice continuing, It could be us. And also—

His words stopped abruptly, sparking your curiosity. You questioned him, but he only answered with an ambiguous smile and a dismissive, amused shake of his head, as if what he was thinking was nothing of importance to dwell further.

It’s late, he whispered, kissing your forehead, Sleep, my beloved.

As you settled more comfortably into his embrace, you felt his hand resting over your lower abdomen, the touch unlike any other time he would embrace you. As your heavy eyelids closed, you realized the words he had withheld, the hopeful future even he seemed too scared to voice into existence.

In your dream, you could have sworn you heard the pitter-patters of small feet on hardwood floor, and his voice full of joy as he effortlessly swept up into his strong arms two little children, a boy and a girl, perfect blends of you and him.

Such a shame that it was only a dream, you thought the morning after in bed as you watched him shaved the five o’ clock shadow from his face in the dirty motel bathroom.

In the mirror reflection, he noticed you sitting up in bed, the cover barely covering your nude body, hair in disarray, and he smiled. You smiled back.

Such a shame indeed, you thought again, feeling a strange ache in your chest as your mind drifted back to the little boy and girl in your dream.

It was amazing how you still had an appetite.

Eggs and bacon seemed extra delicious at diners in the middle of nowhere. As if stuck in time, it looked nothing like the modern eateries you were familiar with. Black and white checkered flooring, large red booths, an old barely working jukebox in a corner—everything seemed like it was untouched by modern advancements, living peacefully in its own world of idle monotony.

As you finished your meal, he stood up, walking over to the ancient jukebox out of curiosity.

He perused the song choices, brows furrowed in contemplation before he settled on one:

In the still of the night / I held you / Held you tight.

Your head lifted at the smooth crooning, eyes meeting his just as he walked back to the booth, his hand extended to you. Silently, a little embarrassed, you took his hand, just like you always seemed to do.

Promise I’ll never / Let you go.

He twirled you around before his hand found your waist, steadying you as he moved you to the rhythm of the music. In the near empty diner, you danced with him, remembering a time long ago, you two had also waltzed just like this.

To keep your precious love.

Your head rested against his chest, his arms around you as he swayed you gently to the music as it faded to silence. Even long after the song had ended, you stayed in his arms, holding firmly onto the one constancy you still held from your past.

Things could get worse.

I’ll be there every step of the way.

An old television set, from decades ago, flashed for an instance a photo of you. Without words, he had dropped a generous amount of bills on the table, his hand already reaching for yours and taking you away before anyone could be wiser.

By the time the waitress had come to clear the table, her tired mind suddenly realizing as she looked from the television back to the empty booth, the young couple had already left town. Discreetly, she tucked away the extra bills into her bra, and resumed her monotonous day, blissfully ignorant and a few hundred dollars richer.

In an old convertible from long ago, driving down an endless, deserted road, you woke up in the passenger seat to his—peculiar—singing alongside the car radio:

No matter what you are / I will always be with you / Doesn’t matter what you do, girl.

You giggled and he turned to look at you momentarily before his eyes redirected to the long road ahead. The radio continued to play the song as you and he conversed:

You’re actually laughing at me, he quipped. You’re so cruel, sweetie.

With you, you corrected him cheekily.

Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was laughing.

You were, you insisted audaciously.

In that case, laugh with me then, sweetie.

You giggled again. I don’t know this song.

His eyes remained ahead, but his right hand reached over to rest on your thigh. He squeezed you gently in reassurance, and as the song neared the end, he sang along again, Ooh girl, you girl, want you.

The radio played the next song, but you settled in your seat, his hand still resting on your thigh and you hummed again the previous song before the gentle drive lulled you back to sleep again. As your consciousness faded away, you heard distantly his voice singing the current song:

So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep / Sometimes / All I need is the air that I breathe / And to love you.

The time that passed made the line between reality and dream blurred. The life you lived, running away with him felt more dreamlike with each passing day as you bounced from old motels to grand estates to the most discreet safehouses he owned. Nothing in either of your life felt permanent right now, except for each other, the only constancy in this reckless fleeing.

You had both discarded your names, only taking them back at night when you were both truly alone, feeling like two lost souls abandoned by the universe. In the dark, you moaned each other’s name, such lovely sounds as warm breath ghosted over slicked skin.

Your hands lightly touched his face, his eyes always locked with yours. Your shuddering gasps and his barely-restrained moans followed in suits as his hands gripped tighter your hips, guiding you up and down on his length. You kissed him, crying as he pierced you again and again, his movements rushing as he felt you nearing your release.

…I can’t…I need to…Sy…please…please…

Hngh…ye-yes…

He was panting, his eyes darkened by the heavy arousal of seeing you, his beloved, falling apart for him—because of him. You arched forward into him, his name spilling out from your lips and pleasure coursed through your entire being. With a few more rushed thrusts, his own release came, his deep groans resonated in your ears as he filled you full.

Collapsed on him, you both rested lazily together with his softened member still inside you and his seed dripping obscenely down your thighs. You hummed into his skin, boneless and satisfied, his warmth so familiar and addicting.

Just two nobody’s in the world, but in this moment, it felt like no one else existed and you were both truly the last of your kind.

How heavenly.

Away, away, you ran from town to town, the final destination only a vague dream. The further you ran, the lighter your heart felt. In his eyes, the bird that was caged was now soaring high. His only wish was to save her before her wings were clipped, and now he would follow her wherever she would take him, her song beckoning him to a paradise for two.

Don’t let go.

Sweetie, you’re stuck with me for life.

Higher and higher, you soared, the sun threatening to scorch your wings.

If you fall, you knew he would be there to catch you. So, you continued to fly, your hand outstretched. All of Heaven would be yours to command. You were going to unlock paradise, a place for two kindred spirits, the last of their kinds, forevermore tethered to one another.

Eventually, the dream came to an end, life catching up within a flash.

You had grown a little careless, believing that you were just a nobody drifting through life, forgetting that there was still a hefty bounty to your name.

Someone had seen your face. Someone had snitched. You wondered if they truly believed you were dangerous, or perhaps it was merely just human greed that drove them to expose you. You supposed it didn’t really matter in the end now. It was all over anyway.

You looked to him, and he to you. A silent exchange of words, an understanding reached.

The distant sirens grew louder and louder as they approached your final hideout.

There was banging outside the motel room, scattered voices calling for your surrender. There would be no negotiation. It wouldn’t matter if they dragged your dead body out instead. On command, a red laser dot maneuvered into the room from the open window, aligning to your head. Your heart was racing, but you stayed grounded, your eyes locked on his.

In just seconds, everything was about to change.

Five.

Four.

Do you trust me? he asked, his hand held out.

With my life, you answered automatically, your hand in his, and with a tug, you were pulled into his familiar warmth, safe and secured as a gunshot sounded and the glass window shattered. His large hand pressed your head gently to his chest, shielding you from the sounds, and just like that, you both left this world behind, disappearing into the swirls of red and black mist he had summoned before the motel door came crashing down.

One.

The end.

Somewhere, in another place, in another time, you woke up to clear blue skies, white picket fences, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, and you heard his laughter mingling with the sweet giggles of two little children.

You hummed pleasantly into your pillow, the sounds of footsteps getting louder and louder until the bedroom door opened. The bed shifted, his heavy weight on you, and your children’s assaulting kisses stealing away your breath and laughter.

Joyful tears brimmed your eyes, your belly aching tremendously from helpless laughter, and your heart at peace as he gazed down at you, his love steadfast and true.

It was almost nine in the morning, but you stayed lounging in bed, surrounded by all that mattered to you. Your children snuggled close to you on either side, your one free hand reached out for his, his hold ever familiar and constant.

His smile mirrored yours, the same devotion in his eyes just like long ago when he took this same hand and whisked you away, running and running until you found your home again at the end of the world.

His thumb caressed yours, his honeyed voice a sweet lullaby. I love you.

And you smiled back. I love you more.

He laughed, surrendering once more to you, always for you.

The past seemed distant, the future too far away. Cradled in the present, in this instance, the world seemed at peace again, and life moved on.

[kiwriteswords]

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

Part I in the Wicked Game Universe (Can be read on its own, though!)

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I can't stop writing Hotch x 'someone from his past' stories. I loved writing this one, though. I'm really excited to share this one with you. I have taken a break from some of the shy!reader fics and really, truly leaned into a reader (I probably embarrassingly identify with too much)...the bold, unapologetically-flirty!Reader, who tends to let her mouth get her in trouble more often than not! Also, thank you to @spoonpine for walking through this idea with me in the comments of my o.g. post!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 11k

Tags/Warnings: Slow Burn, Fluff, Angst, Sexual Tension, Undercover Mission, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Banter, Teasing, Emotional Vulnerability, Flirting, Team Dynamics, Slightly Suggestive Themes, Brief Mentions of Violence (related to the case), Tension Build-Up, Slight NSFW, professor!reader if you squint

Sypnosis: After years away from the BAU, you return to the team you once called home. Some things feel familiar, but your dynamic with Aaron Hotchner has changed. What started as playful banter now carries an undercurrent of something more, and the line between professionalism and desire begins to blur. In a world where control is key, the tension between you and Hotch is about to reach its breaking point.

It had been years since you last walked the halls of Quantico. 

Back then, things were different. You were a profiler, standing shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Agents Gideon, Rossi, and Hotchner. 

You had a deep understanding of how the human mind worked—specifically, how it could be unraveled and manipulated. Your background in psychological torture had set you apart from most, and it wasn’t long before your work at the BAU made you a name within the Bureau.

But as the years went on, you found yourself taking a different path—one that led to the world of academia. Teaching at an Ivy League university seemed like the natural next step. It gave you the chance to share your knowledge, write books, and shape the next generation of criminologists. But as fulfilling as it was, something was missing.

The adrenaline. The stakes. The feeling of being out in the field, making a difference in real-time.

At the BAU, Rossi had seen it for a while now: the way Hotch carried the burden of the job, rarely letting himself relax. 

It wasn’t about setting him up with someone; it was about challenging him, waking him up again. You—sharp, confident, and always able to push his buttons—had a way of doing just that. 

Years ago, there had always been a fire between you, something unspoken yet undeniable. 

Rossi didn’t need to fan those flames—he just knew that having you nearby would reignite something in Hotch, force him out of his controlled, measured existence. You were one of the few who could challenge him in ways no one else could.

It wasn’t just about making Hotch feel young again but making him feel alive.

When Rossi reached out, you hadn’t needed much convincing. The new age of teaching wasn’t what it used to be anyway, and the BAU--it had always felt like home.

“Come on, kid,” Rossi’s voice crackled through the phone. “You know you miss the action. Sitting behind a desk teaching criminology to a bunch of Ivy League kids? That’s not you.”

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. “Don’t knock it, Rossi. There’s a certain charm in watching them squirm when they realize the real world isn’t as glamorous as they thought.”

“Maybe,” Rossi replied with a laugh, “but you belong in the field, not in front of a chalkboard. The team misses you.”

You smirked, unable to resist teasing him. “The team, huh? Or is this your way of saying you’re getting old and need someone to keep you on your toes?”

“Please,” Rossi shot back, “I’m timeless. But we could use a little more… fire around here. You always had a way of lighting things up.”

“Is that your way of saying you miss me, Rossi?”

“Maybe,” he replied smoothly. “And maybe Hotch could use the challenge, too.”

“Ah, now I see. You’re just trying to stir the pot,” you teased, your voice light. “Fine, I’m in. But don’t think I won’t be bringing my own brand of chaos.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Rossi said, a smile in his voice. “Welcome home.”

When you worked together years ago, before Hotch became Unit Chief, there had always been something between you—unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. The chemistry was undeniable, though you both kept it buried under layers of professionalism. 

At the time, Hotch was married to Haley, and you had been in a relationship of your own. The affection you had for Haley, knowing how much she meant to him, made the idea of crossing that line impossible. There was a mutual understanding that, no matter the tension between you, it couldn’t be acted upon. 

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to play around. 

You were always a natural flirt. Charisma came to you as easily as breathing, and sometimes, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. 

But with Hotch… it was different. He was reserved, controlled, and steady in a way that made the small cracks in his composure so satisfying to witness. And it became impossible to resist pushing him, just a little. 

Watching him squirm under the weight of your words and subtle glances became a game—a game where you were always two steps ahead. 

You knew how to push his buttons, and he let you.

He always had.

The distance between you, built by circumstance and respect for your respective relationships, had kept everything in check back then. It was that very distance that allowed the two of you to maintain your professional connection without ever letting the attraction get in the way.

The two of you had kept in touch over the years--various bureau events…the typical bureaucratic crap that you two would often bond over rolling your eyes at. 

But now, things were different. There were no more barriers. Haley was gone, your own relationship had long since ended, and that old chemistry still lingered—stronger, maybe, after all the time and distance. And this time, there was nothing to stop it from burning brighter.

There was something freeing knowing you could push a little further. The idea of it, acting on this attraction you couldn’t even deny you’ve had over the years, was thrilling.

On your first day back, the team gathered in the briefing room. Rossi had greeted you like the old friend you were, a sly smile on his face as if he already knew what was coming. Hotch stood off to the side, arms crossed, his eyes catching yours as the rest of the team exchanged introductions. He stepped forward, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed.

“It’s good to have you back,” Hotch said, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if acknowledging the weight of the years that had passed since you last worked together. “Things have changed a bit.”

You shook his hand, feeling the weight of familiarity settle between you, his grip warm and steady. “Yeah, I noticed. You’re the boss now,” you said, tilting your head slightly, your tone playful but your gaze steady. “Guess I’ll have to get used to taking orders.”

Hotch didn’t respond immediately, but his brow lifted just slightly, a rare flicker of amusement in his eyes. His thumb brushed across your hand before he released it, stepping back. “We’ll see how well that goes.”

The others—Morgan, JJ, Reid, and Prentiss—had heard of you, of course. Your name was well-known in FBI circles, especially since you’d been one of the few women to pave the way for others in the Bureau. They respected you immediately, not just because of your accolades, but because of how you carried yourself—confident, self-assured, commanding respect without demanding it.

The case briefing began, and Hotch, ever the professional, gave the rundown of the unsub’s profile. You couldn’t help yourself. As he stood in front of the team, rattling off key details, you crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips.

“Still delivering profiles like they’re carved in stone, Hotchner?” you teased casually, just loud enough for the others to hear.

Hotch’s eyes flickered toward you, a brief flash of something behind them before he cleared his throat. 

“I prefer to think of them as accurate,” he replied, his voice smooth but with an edge. “Just like always.”

The corner of your mouth lifted into a knowing smile, and you saw it—the tiniest twitch of discomfort in his jaw. 

Oh, you still had him.

Rossi, sitting nearby, chuckled softly. “Watch out, everyone. The professor’s back.”

The rest of the team exchanged glances. JJ leaned toward Emily, whispering, “Is it just me, or is there something… more there?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “You’re definitely not imagining it.”

In the days that followed, it became clear to the rest of the team that there was a thick tension between you and Hotch—an almost palpable current that crackled whenever you were in the same room. 

You couldn’t help the way you flirted with him. Sometimes, it was a subtle comment, a lingering glance, or the way you stood just a little too close during case briefings. Other times, it was more overt—a casual touch on his arm, a playful quip when you knew the team was listening. 

You’d always had a rebellious streak when it came to authority, sometimes you wondered how you got as far as you did in your career with that mouth of yours.

Hotch—rigid, rule-following Hotch—was just too tempting a target. You’d once jokingly referred to yourself as a “brat” when it came to pushing buttons, and in your case, that usually meant defying authority with a smile on your face.

But something was different now. Back when you worked together years ago, Hotch would brush off your teasing with calm professionalism, barely giving you a reaction. He’d remain composed, seemingly impervious to your provocations. Now, though, he seemed more willing to engage, to push back just a little more than you expected. 

You weren’t often surprised by people, but Hotch’s newfound ability to meet your wit with his own had caught you off guard.

It wasn’t just his typical stoic self anymore—there was an edge to his responses, a glint in his eye that made it clear he wasn’t just enduring your teasing; he was playing along. And it threw you off balance in a way you didn’t quite anticipate.

It wasn’t just in front of the team, either. In private, away from the others, Hotch’s responses had started to take on a different tone—quieter, more personal, laced with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. There were times, especially late at night when the office was nearly empty, when his voice would drop low as he answered one of your playful jabs, turning the tables on you in a way that made you squirm just a little.

And that was something new. You weren’t used to being the one caught off guard. Hotch had always been steady, collected. But now, you noticed the way his eyes would flicker down to your lips when you spoke, the way his voice dropped just a little lower when he addressed you directly. He never let it show, at least not on the surface, but you knew. You always knew.

It was late, the bullpen quiet save for the soft hum of computers and the occasional shuffle of papers. You had finished most of your report and were about to call it a night when you spotted Hotch still in his office, the faint glow from his desk lamp highlighting his focused expression. Naturally, you couldn’t resist.

You knocked lightly on his door, smirking as you leaned against the frame. 

“Burning the midnight oil, Hotchner? You know, even you need sleep sometimes,” you teased, the playful lilt in your voice familiar.

Hotch didn’t look up right away, but you saw the small smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Funny, I was going to say the same to you.”

You stepped into his office, crossing your arms as you leaned against his desk. “Well, unlike you, I still know how to have fun. Late-night drinks can be productive, you know.”

This time, Hotch raised his eyes to meet yours, his expression calm but something else lurking behind it. “Is that an invitation?”

You blinked, caught completely off guard by the unexpected shift in his tone. “I—what?”

He closed the file in front of him slowly, standing up from his desk to face you fully. His voice was steady, a quiet challenge in his words. 

“You said late-night drinks could be productive. If you’re offering, I might just take you up on that.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words, something that almost never happened. You could feel your pulse quicken, the confidence you usually wielded slipping as Hotch’s eyes stayed on yours, unflinching.

Recovering quickly, you gave him a slow, teasing smile, though your heart still raced. “Are you sure you could handle it, Hotch? You don’t strike me as the type to let loose.”

Without missing a beat, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. “Maybe you’ve underestimated me.”

There it was. The subtle, confident way he turned the tables, leaving you scrambling for a response. You weren’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of banter, especially not from Hotch.

You felt a flush rise in your cheeks, and Hotch’s eyes flickered down, just briefly, as if noticing. When he looked back up, there was a slight smile playing on his lips, but he didn’t push further, leaving the weight of the moment hanging between you.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, your voice a touch quieter than you intended, the flirtation still there, but now with an undercurrent of something else. Something deeper.

Hotch simply nodded, his expression softening, though his gaze didn’t falter. “Good night, then.”

You turned to leave, feeling the warmth in your cheeks as you walked out of his office, your mind spinning from the unexpected encounter. You had always been able to push his buttons, but tonight… it seemed Hotch had learned how to push yours.

Over time, the team grew used to the rapport between you and Hotch, much like how they had come to accept the flirtatious banter between Penelope and Derek. But with you and Hotch, it was different—sharper, more restrained, but no less intense. 

The others would exchange knowing glances when your conversations got a little too charged, but they respected the unspoken boundaries you and Hotch danced around.

And the truth was, those boundaries wouldn’t stay unbroken forever.

There was this push and pull—a game of tug-of-war. You both knew how to push each other's buttons, but you also knew when to let go before the rope broke or one of you fell flat on your faces. It was a delicate balance, and somehow, neither of you ever crossed the line. At least, not yet.

It was late, and the harsh lighting of the local police station did nothing to alleviate the exhaustion that hung over the team. 

The case had finally been wrapped up, and now it was just a matter of packing up and heading home. Everyone was scattered around the room, collecting files and closing laptops, the weight of the long hours evident on all of your faces.

You were finishing up, leaning casually against one of the cluttered desks near Hotch, who was meticulously stacking paperwork into his briefcase. He always took his time—never rushed, even at the end of a long case. It was one of the things that both fascinated and frustrated you about him.

“Come on, Hotch,” you teased, watching him with a smirk. “You ever think about leaving the paperwork for tomorrow? Or are you afraid the world might end if you don’t have everything perfectly organized before we leave?”

Hotch looked up from his task, his expression as stoic as ever. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner we can all go home,” he replied, his voice even and calm.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Home? You mean you’re actually going to leave this place?” you asked, your tone playful. “I always thought you just… stayed at the office, brooding until the next case rolled in.”

Across the room, Morgan and Prentiss were packing up their own gear, but your voice was loud enough to catch their attention. Morgan glanced over, smirking. “Brooding’s definitely on-brand for Hotch,” he muttered to Prentiss, who hid a smile behind her hand.

Hotch closed his briefcase and stood up, straightening his posture as he turned to you, and this time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that caught you off guard. 

“I don’t brood,” he said, his tone just a little too smooth. “And I think you’d be surprised at how well I can unwind.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected comeback. “Oh yeah?” you challenged, crossing your arms and leaning against the desk a bit more. “Guess I’ll need proof of that. Can’t have the Unit Chief pretending to be fun when there’s no evidence.”

Hotch didn’t miss a beat. He stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough that only you could hear, though the team was watching from across the room. 

“Careful,” he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. “You might not be able to keep up.”

Your breath hitched slightly, your pulse quickening in response to the subtle challenge in his words. You weren’t used to Hotch pushing back like this, and it caught you off balance for a second. You had always been the one to make him squirm, but now… now, he was the one getting under your skin.

“Did Hotch just—” Prentiss began, her eyebrows raised as she glanced at Morgan, who looked just as surprised.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I think Hotch just played her at her own game.”

Prentiss smirked, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. “I didn’t know he had a game.”

Morgan chuckled. “Oh, he does. He’s just been keeping it locked away until now.”

Across the room, Rossi, who had been quietly observing the exchange, gave an almost imperceptible nod, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. He had known you would be good for Hotch, and seeing the dynamic between the two of you now only confirmed it.

You quickly regained your composure, leaning in just slightly as you shot back, “I’m pretty sure I could handle it, Aaron.”

Hotch’s lips quirked in a subtle smile, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped back and grabbed his coat, leaving the challenge hanging in the air. 

“We’ll see,” he said, his voice calm, but there was a teasing undertone to it now.

As Hotch walked toward the door, the rest of the team finally let out the breath they had been holding.

“Wow,” JJ said, eyes wide. “Did we just witness Hotch flirting?”

“I’m not sure I believe it,” Reid chimed in, looking genuinely puzzled.

Morgan crossed his arms, a wide grin spreading across his face. “It’s about time someone shook things up around here.”

Rossi walked past you, slapping a hand on your shoulder as he did. “Keep it up, kid,” he said with a satisfied grin. “Looks like you’ve got him right where you want him.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “I think he’s the one keeping me on my toes now,” you muttered under your breath.

As the team gathered their things and headed for the SUVs, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at Hotch. The way he had engaged with you tonight—subtle, teasing, but undeniably flirtatious—left you with a strange mixture of excitement and surprise. You’d always known how to push his buttons, but now? Now it felt like Hotch was finally ready to play the game.

And for the first time in a long while, you weren’t sure who had the upper hand.

Weeks had passed since that night, and though the tension between you and Hotch still simmered beneath the surface, the team had moved on to a new case, throwing you both back into the rhythm of work. The dynamic had shifted, but the game remained—unspoken but always present. Now, out in the field with Morgan, the familiar tension crept back in as you prepared to relay critical information to Hotch.

The case had taken a sharp turn, and every second mattered. You dialed Hotch’s number, knowing the information you were about to relay could be critical. But, as always, the tension had you slipping into your usual rhythm of teasing—almost like second nature when things got stressful.

Hotch answered on the second ring. “Hotchner.”

“Hey, got something for you,” you said, catching a breath. “We spoke to a witness. Black SUV, partial plates, seen leaving the scene about an hour ago. I’m starting to think I’m carrying this whole case. You sure you don’t need me running things for you while you take a day off?”

Morgan shot you a sharp look, trying not to laugh. The timing wasn’t great, and he fully expected Hotch to cut you off with a firm, no-nonsense response. After all, this was Hotch.

There was a brief pause on the line, and Morgan mouthed at you, “He’s gonna kill you.”

But then, Hotch’s voice came through, low and steady. “Careful,” he said, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable note of amusement. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll start thinking you’re trying to get yourself reassigned to paperwork duty.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. That wasn’t what you expected at all. Was that… Hotch teasing you? It was subtle—typical Hotch—but unmistakable. Your mouth opened to respond, but for once, words didn’t immediately come.

Morgan’s eyebrows shot up, clearly floored. “Wait, did Hotch just—” he started, but you waved a hand to silence him, still processing the fact that Aaron Hotchner had just flirted back, in his own serious, dry way.

“Well,” you finally managed, “as long as I can file it in your office, I’m sure I’d manage just fine.”

Another pause. “I think you’d find my office much less entertaining than you imagine,” Hotch replied smoothly, the same playful edge to his voice.

Morgan let out a disbelieving laugh, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. “Okay, what is happening right now?”

“I—uh, yeah, I’ll get those plates to you,” you said, trying to regain control of the conversation, but there was a heat in your cheeks that wasn’t from the work. “I’ll, uh, check in when we’ve got more.”

“Understood,” Hotch said, his tone back to business, though you could still hear the amusement lingering beneath the surface. “Keep me updated.”

Something shifted. The playful banter that had always come so easily felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken. For the first time, you both sensed it—this wasn’t just a game anymore. The teasing, the flirting—it had blurred the line between fun and something far more real. Neither of you said it out loud, but you could feel it in the weight of every word, in the way the silence lingered a second too long after each response.

When the call ended, Morgan stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “You gotta be kidding me. Hotch? The man barely cracks a smile, and here he is giving you hell?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the lingering warmth in your face. “He’s still my boss,” you said, playing it cool. “He’s just… keeping me in line.”

Morgan snorted. “Yeah, right. If I said half that stuff to him, I’d be doing desk duty for a month. You’ve got some kind of magic over him, I swear.”

Meanwhile, back at the local precinct, Hotch ended the call and glanced up to find Rossi watching him with a knowing grin. Rossi had caught the tail end of the conversation and didn’t need to ask to know what had just happened.

Hotch raised an eyebrow at him. “Something you want to say?”

Rossi chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing at all, Aaron. Just nice to see you loosening up.”

Hotch gave him a steady look, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Someone has to keep her in check,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Sure,” Rossi replied, clearly enjoying the exchange far too much. “Though I don’t think you’re trying that hard to stop her.”

Hotch didn’t respond, but there was a quiet understanding between them. Rossi had always known how to read between the lines, and Hotch’s small smile confirmed that Rossi’s instincts were right.

Back in the field, Morgan still hadn’t let it go. “I seriously don’t know how you get away with it,” he said, shaking his head as you both climbed into the SUV.

You shot him a sidelong glance, the smirk creeping back onto your face now that you had recovered from the surprise. “What can I say? I’m special.”

“Yeah, well, you better be careful,” Morgan teased, pulling out of the lot. “Because if Hotch ever does snap, it’s going to be spectacular.”

You laughed, leaning back in your seat. “I think we both know he likes playing this game as much as I do.”

Morgan chuckled but didn’t disagree. As you drove away, you couldn’t help but think back to Hotch’s voice on the phone, how he’d turned your usual banter right back on you. For once, he had left you the one a little off balance.

Later that day, as you and Morgan returned to the bullpen, Penelope swirled into the room with her usual dramatic flair. 

"Well, well, well," she began, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I heard a little birdie tell me there was some serious verbal sparring going on between you and the boss-man in the field today. Dare I ask how it ended?"

Morgan chuckled, throwing you a knowing glance. "Oh, it ended alright. But for once, I think Hotch had the upper hand."

Penelope gasped in mock horror, her eyes widening. "Our resident queen of sass, left speechless by Hotch? This I have to see."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "It’s nothing I can’t handle," you said, but the truth lingered in your mind. This was only the beginning, and even you didn’t know where it would lead.

As the days passed, you found yourself thinking more and more about that shift with Hotch, but before you could dwell on it too much, the next unavoidable event crept up on you—a formal Bureau gala.

It was a rare occurrence—one of those formal Bureau events where the invitations were non-negotiable, the kind you couldn’t avoid no matter how much you wanted to. This time, it was a benefit gala, an annual gathering of Bureau brass and political figures. Most of the team had managed to find a way out, but you, Hotch, and Rossi had drawn the short straws.

Rossi, ever the diplomat, had no issue attending these sorts of events—especially since Strauss had already invited him as her plus-one, an arrangement that left you and Hotch both slightly bemused.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” you teased when you and Hotch were left figuring out your own arrangements.

Hotch looked at you for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, to your surprise, he said, “You could come as my date.”

You blinked, caught off guard for a second. Hotch rarely flirted so openly, and the ease with which the words left his mouth left you momentarily speechless. 

“Your date?” you repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You sure you can handle that?”

“I think the better question is whether you can behave,” Hotch replied, his tone measured but carrying that dry, teasing edge you were beginning to recognize more and more.

You raised an eyebrow, recovering quickly. 

“Behave? Where’s the fun in that?” you quipped back. “Alright, deal. But you better not leave me to fend off the Bureau’s old guard on my own.”

Hotch gave a small, amused smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The night of the gala approached faster than you expected, and soon enough, Hotch was back in his office, preparing for the evening ahead.

As Hotch finished straightening his bow tie, he heard the familiar knock on his office door. Rossi stepped in, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes sharp as ever.

“You clean up nice,” Rossi said with a smirk. “But that’s not what’s got me concerned.”

Hotch looked up from his desk, brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rossi stepped closer, his tone softening just slightly. “Aaron, I’ve been watching you. You’ve got that look—like you’re fighting something inside.”

Hotch sighed. He didn’t have to ask what Rossi meant. “It’s complicated, Dave.”

Rossi gave him a pointed look. “It’s only as complicated as you make it. Look, I know you. You’re holding back because that’s what you do. But maybe this time, you don’t have to. Let loose. Lean into it. You deserve that.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened. “I’m not sure I can afford to.”

Rossi smiled knowingly. “You deserve to feel alive again, Aaron. Don’t miss your chance.”

Hotch didn’t respond, but the words stayed with him long after Rossi left the room. He just continued to run through his thoughts as he grabbed his keys and made his way to the SUV to go pick you up. 

You’d never have imagined Hotch picking you up in a tux, let alone for a Bureau gala where you’d be going as his date. 

It had started as playful banter, something you never thought would lead to more. But the moment you accepted his offer to be his date, something shifted. There was a weight behind it, an unspoken connection that ran deeper than either of you had let on. 

And now, as you smoothed your dress one final time before he arrived, a flutter of nerves settled in your chest. This wasn’t just flirting anymore. You could feel it—something real, something that went beyond the game you’d been playing for months.

When Hotch pulled up in front of your place, he stepped out of the car to greet you, and the sight of him in a sharp black tuxedo made you momentarily lose your train of thought. He was always put-together, but tonight? Tonight, there was an extra edge to his appearance, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Right on time,” you quipped as he opened the door for you. “Very punctual, as always. Does that come with being Unit Chief, or is that just your way of keeping everyone else on their toes?”

Hotch gave you a small smile, his eyes flickering over your dress for just a second longer than usual. “Some habits are hard to break,” he replied evenly. “You look great, by the way.”

You slid into the car, throwing him a playful glance. “You too, Hotch. I didn’t even know you owned anything that wasn’t a suit. What, no bulletproof vest tonight?”

He chuckled under his breath as he started the car, his hands gripping the wheel in that familiar, controlled way. “I figured it wasn’t necessary for a Bureau gala.”

You leaned back in your seat, smirking. “Well, you never know. Some of those higher-ups look like they could start a fight at any moment. Good thing you’ve got me as backup.”

Hotch gave a small shake of his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be able to handle yourself just fine.”

As the car sped through the city streets, you couldn’t resist pushing him a little more. “Come on, Hotch. You’ve got to be at least a little excited. Big fancy event, all dressed up. We might even see you smile tonight.”

He glanced at you, his expression calm but with that familiar, dry edge. “You might want to lower your expectations.”

You grinned, leaning a little closer to him as you teased, “What, are you saying I’m setting the bar too high?”

His eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to the road, and you caught that subtle tension in his posture. “I’m saying you always seem to enjoy pushing limits.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the way he’d turned the banter back on you. You opened your mouth to respond, but his quiet confidence left you feeling like he had gained the upper hand.

“Well, someone’s gotta keep things interesting,” you muttered, trying to regain your footing.

For the rest of the drive, you continued to pepper him with lighthearted comments—teasing him about his serious demeanor, joking about the politics of Bureau galas, you even talked about Jack a few times—but underneath it all, there was a tension growing. Each time Hotch shot back with his calm, dry responses, it felt like a game you were both playing, and you were starting to realize you might not be in control of it anymore.

When you arrived at the gala, Hotch stepped out of the car and opened the door for you, offering his hand as you stepped out. You were about to throw another teasing comment his way, but when you looked up at him, standing there in that tux, the words caught in your throat.

He met your eyes with a steady gaze, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The teasing, the banter—it all fell away, leaving behind the raw tension that had been building since he picked you up.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the sounds of the city around you.

You blinked, quickly recovering. “Yeah, just… surprised that you’re really here, taking me as your date.” Your eyes flicked over him, taking in how good he looked, even though that wasn’t the real surprise. “But, I mean, you do clean up nice, Aaron.”

Hotch tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Surprised I asked you?” His voice was calm, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “I thought it was about time.”

You smiled, the tension between you thickening. “Maybe I am

Inside the gala, the atmosphere was elegant, with the sounds of soft music and quiet chatter filling the room. You and Hotch had already made your rounds, engaging in small talk with Bureau officials and shaking hands with people you didn’t particularly care for. But through it all, the tension between you and Hotch lingered.

After an hour or so, you found yourselves at the bar, taking a moment to escape the crowd. You leaned against the counter, watching Hotch as he ordered a drink for himself and one for you.

“See?” you said, giving him a teasing smile. “This isn’t so bad. You’re surviving, and you even managed to crack a joke or two. I think we can count this as a win.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, “You’re the one who said I needed to loosen up,” he said evenly, his voice carrying that quiet, playful edge. “I’m just following your advice.”

You grinned, the energy between you shifting, the tension you’d been playing with all night coming to a head. Now was as good a time as any to test his limits a little further. 

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of advice for you, Hotch,” you said, leaning in just enough to catch his full attention, your voice dropping to something more suggestive. “And I bet if I really tried, I could get you to loosen up a lot more.”

Hotch’s gaze sharpened, lingering on yours longer than before. There was a flicker of surprise there—just for a second—but it quickly turned into something else. Amusement. Challenge.

“You might want to be careful,” he replied, his voice still smooth but now edged with something darker, something more dangerous. “You’re playing a game you might not be ready to finish.”

You laughed softly, unbothered by his attempt to warn you off. If anything, it only made you push harder. “I don’t think you’d mind that one bit,” you said, your tone bold. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s holding back.”

Hotch’s lips quirked into the faintest smile, but there was a glint in his eyes that told you he wasn’t going to let you off that easily. “Is that what you think? That I’m holding back?”

You tilted your head, “Oh, I know you are. You’ve been doing it all night.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, the tension thick enough to cut through. Hotch’s eyes flicked down to your mouth for a second before returning to meet yours, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, almost a growl. “You might be playing with fire.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time that night, you wondered if you had pushed him a little too far. But then again, that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do, wasn’t it? Test the waters. See how much you could make him bend before he snapped.

But Hotch didn’t snap. Instead, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I’m not the one who’ll break first.”

Your breath caught, and before you could respond, the bartender breaking the moment. You took a step back, trying to compose yourself as Hotch straightened, his expression calm and controlled once again—though the look in his eyes told you the game wasn’t over.

“Here you go. Anything else for the happy couple?” The bartender placed the glasses in front of you both.

You froze for a second, the bartender’s words hanging in the air. You were about to correct him when you glanced at Hotch, curious to see his reaction.

Hotch, to your surprise, didn’t immediately deny it. Instead, he gave the bartender a polite smile and said, “We’re fine, thank you.”

As the bartender moved on, you turned to Hotch, raising an eyebrow. “Happy couple, huh?”

Hotch shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “It seemed easier than explaining.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned in closer. “I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

He met your gaze, his expression calm but with that unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe.”

The air between you felt heavier now, the flirtation and tension building to a point where it felt like something was bound to break. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the banter without it tipping over into something more.

“You know,” you said softly, your voice dropping, “if we’re going to play the part, we should at least make it convincing.”

Hotch’s eyes flickered down to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. “Is that what you want?”

For once, you weren’t sure what to say. The teasing had turned into something real, something you hadn’t expected, and now you were standing at the edge of a line neither of you had crossed before.

“I don’t know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe.”

Hotch didn’t move, but the weight of his gaze stayed locked on yours, the tension between you stretching tight, waiting to snap.

“Are you ready for what comes next?” he said quietly, his voice soft but firm, and you knew—whatever happened next, you wouldn’t be able to go back.

Your pulse quickened at his words, but before either of you could act on the weight of the moment, the evening continued on, pulling you both back into the motions of the event. 

As the night was winding down, you and Hotch found yourselves standing with Rossi and Strauss near the exit. The tension between you and Hotch had been brewing all evening, and Rossi, as always, hadn’t missed a thing.

With a dramatic sigh, Rossi glanced between you two before smirking at Strauss. “You might want to start drafting those HR consensual relationship forms, Erin,” he teased, eyes twinkling. “Looks like there’ll be a couple on your desk by Monday.”

Strauss rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, and what about your paperwork, Dave?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow at their own not-so-subtle fraternizing.

Rossi grinned, unbothered. “I’m grandfathered in. But these two?” He gave you and Hotch a knowing look. “Better watch out.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, while Hotch remained calm, though you saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Duly noted,” Hotch said, his voice steady, but you could feel the charge between you.

Strauss sighed, giving one final glance between you and Hotch. “Just make sure I’m not dealing with fallout from both of you by Monday.”

Rossi patted her arm, chuckling. “Only if you sign the forms first.”

As Rossi and Strauss headed out, you turned to Hotch, smirking. “Looks like we’re on notice.”

Hotch’s lips curved just slightly. “Seems that way.”

You both shared a brief, knowing look, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

The night had stretched on, and as the crowd in the ballroom began to thin, the tension between you and Hotch had reached a breaking point. 

The teasing glances, the subtle brushes of his hand, and the simmering heat had become too much. Hotch, ever composed, had kept his professional demeanor in front of the others all night, but you could feel the pull between you both—like you were walking a tightrope.

You both stood off to the side after the last round of handshakes, observing the room in comfortable silence. But out of the corner of your eye, you caught Hotch glancing at you, his expression unreadable, though there was something different in his gaze tonight—something less guarded.

“Need some air?” he asked quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah, I think I could use a break from all the small talk.”

Hotch didn’t say anything more, but you followed him as he led the way toward a quieter part of the venue, away from the buzz of the event. 

It was a subtle move, deliberate yet not rushed. You could feel your heart beating a little faster, though neither of you had said anything more.

He pushed open a door to a quiet, unused room, likely an office set aside for event staff, and gestured for you to follow him inside. You did, your breath catching slightly at the realization of how close you were now to being truly alone.

Once inside, the door clicked softly behind you, and the hum of the gala faded into the background, leaving the two of you standing in the dimly lit space. Hotch remained still, keeping a respectful distance, though the tension in the air was palpable. His body language was controlled, but the way his eyes flicked to yours made it clear he wasn’t unaffected by everything that had passed between you tonight.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice steady, but there was a subtle edge to it—like he was testing the waters, gauging where you stood.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze. “Just… a lot tonight.”

Hotch nodded, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, his voice quieter now, low and controlled. There was no accusation, just a quiet acknowledgment of the game you’d both been playing.

Your breath hitched, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You seem to be holding up pretty well.”

“Barely,” he murmured, his eyes flicking to your lips. His response surprised you, but also intrigued you. 

He moved in closer, his presence almost overwhelming as he pressed you gently against the wall, his hand bracing beside your head.

For a second, neither of you moved. His body was just inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. The tension, the push and pull of the game you’d both been playing, was about to snap.

Before you could say another word, Hotch’s hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, lingering there in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was soft but deliberate, and it took every ounce of restraint not to close the small gap between you.

Just as you leaned in, lips almost touching, Hotch’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the sound cutting through the moment like a knife. He sighed, the frustration clear, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he fished out his phone with his free hand, glancing at the screen.

“Hotchner,” he answered, his voice immediately shifting back to its usual authoritative tone, though his body stayed pressed close to yours, his hand still resting on your face.

You thought he might step back, put some distance between you, but he didn’t. 

Instead, as he spoke into the phone—likely discussing the logistics of the case—his thumb traced the curve of your bottom lip, soft and slow, like he couldn’t help himself. 

It was such a contrast to the professional tone of his voice that it made your head spin.

You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the heat from his touch, the way he stayed so close, made it impossible to think clearly. You felt every breath he took, the tension between you even more potent now that you were both so aware of it but unable to act.

After what felt like an eternity, Hotch finally hung up the phone, but he still didn’t pull away. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of the moment thickening all over again.

“We’ve got a case,” he said softly, his voice a little rough, like the weight of what almost happened hadn’t left him unaffected.

You exhaled, a frustrated but soft laugh escaping your lips. 

“Figures,” you murmured, your heart still pounding.

Hotch’s thumb brushed over your lip one last time before he finally stepped back, giving you just enough space to breathe again. But the tension between you remained, unbroken.

“We’ll finish this later,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer before he turned toward the door.

As you both walked out of the room and back into the world of the FBI, you knew he wasn’t making an empty promise. Whatever had started tonight, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Whatever was staring you two in the face was too good to ignore. 

Within the hour, the team gathered in the briefing room, the atmosphere charged with the usual mix of focus and adrenaline that came with starting a new case. You were still thinking about the gala—about how close you and Hotch had come to crossing that line before the case pulled you away. Now, the professional walls were back up, and things were business as usual. Or so you thought.

Garcia had laid out the details of the new case on the screen, and you listened as she explained the suspects and their patterns. The unsub was targeting high-profile events, blending in by posing as part of the upper-crust social scene while his victims were unaware. 

The most recent lead? A high-end party happening the next evening, where undercover agents would need to infiltrate to catch the suspect in the act.

Rossi glanced around the room, his gaze landing on you and Hotch, a spark of amusement in his eyes. 

“Well, looks like we need a couple,” Rossi said, his voice casual but with a teasing edge. “A couple that can really sell it. High-class, a little… steamy.”

You felt your stomach flip slightly, the underlying tension from last night creeping back in. Hotch remained composed beside you, his expression as unreadable as ever. But before you could respond, Morgan leaned forward, grinning like he knew exactly what was about to happen.

“You know,” Morgan began, his eyes darting between you and Hotch, “I think we’ve already got the perfect pair for this.”

You blinked, your eyes widening slightly as the attention in the room shifted toward you and Hotch. “Wait—us? No.”

Morgan leaned back, smirking. “You two would be perfect. Got that whole chemistry thing down already.” He gave a mock shudder. “Not sure I’m ready to see what happens when you actually lean into it, though. Might witness something real go down out there.”

Hotch shot Morgan a brief but sharp look, clearly unimpressed with the teasing, though you could see the faintest hint of discomfort in his posture. 

“I’m not sure this is the best idea,” Hotch said, his voice calm but firm.

Rossi raised an eyebrow, his expression amused. “Come on, Aaron. You and her? The chemistry’s already there. Plus, you’re both the best at keeping your cool under pressure.”

You opened your mouth to protest, unsure how this had suddenly turned into you and Hotch going undercover as a couple, but JJ spoke up before you could.

“They’re right,” she said with a soft smile. “You two could pull this off. If anyone can make this look convincing, it’s you two.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, but he said nothing. You, on the other hand, decided to lean into the banter, if only to diffuse the tension.

“Well,” you said with a grin, glancing at Hotch, “I guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior. Don’t want to push your buttons too much while we’re out there.”

Morgan let out a low chuckle, and even Reid smirked behind his stack of files. “I think the real question,” Morgan said, glancing at Hotch, “is whether he can keep it together when you start leaning into the role.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his composure remained intact. “I’m perfectly capable of maintaining professionalism,” he said, though the tension in the room suggested that everyone—including Hotch—knew this undercover assignment was going to be anything but easy.

With the decision made, the plan was set: you and Hotch would pose as a couple attending the high-end party, posing as wealthy socialites while the team monitored from a distance.

As the meeting wrapped up, you caught Hotch’s gaze, the weight of everything unsaid between you settling back in. This assignment was going to test both of you, and it wasn’t just about catching the unsub—it was about how far you could push the chemistry that had been simmering between you for months.

As the team dispersed, Morgan walked by, shooting you both a playful glance. “Good luck out there. Just don’t make it too real, alright?”

You shook your head, giving him a light punch on the arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to break your Unit Chief.”

Morgan laughed, but before he could respond, Garcia’s voice piped up from behind, her eyes wide with dramatic flair. “Oh, sugar, please keep it together out there. I don’t think the universe can handle you two actually playing couple for real.”

Emily smirked, glancing between the two of you. “I have to admit, I’m almost curious to see how well you sell it. Key word: almost.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll behave. Promise.”

“Better you than me,” Emily added, giving you a playful wink before heading off with Garcia in tow.

Morgan chuckled as he walked away, leaving you and Hotch standing there for a moment. The teasing from the team faded as the reality of the situation set in, the tension between you suddenly palpable.

“You sure about this?” you asked quietly, your voice carrying more weight than before.

Hotch’s eyes softened just slightly as he looked at you, but his voice was steady. “We’ll make it work.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you believe him, even as your heart raced at the thought of what was about to unfold.

The small, dimly lit prep room had been quiet as you finished getting ready for the undercover assignment. 

You adjusted the delicate lace garter holster on your thigh, securing the small, discreet weapon inside, while slipping the matching lingerie into place. The deep red fabric, though meant to be functional, added an unexpected level of sexiness to the outfit—a necessary piece of your undercover role, but one that made you feel the weight of the assignment in a different way.

You were just about to slip on your dress when there was a soft knock on the door. “It’s me,” Hotch’s familiar voice came through, steady and calm as always.

“Come in,” you called, expecting him to go over last-minute details. But when the door swung open, Hotch stepped inside and froze.

His usual calm composure faltered for just a moment as his eyes fell on you, standing there in nothing but your lingerie and garter holster, the silk and lace framing your body in a way that was far from professional. 

He didn’t speak right away, his dark eyes taking in the sight of you with a stunned silence that was so un-Hotch it made you smile.

“Cat got your tongue, Aaron?” you teased, feeling the tension rise between you like a thick fog. The way he looked at you—completely unguarded, caught off balance—was more of a reaction than you’d ever expected.

He cleared his throat, his jaw tightening slightly as he tried to regain his composure, but the subtle flush in his cheeks told you all you needed to know. 

“We have… ten minutes before we leave,” he said, his voice sounding a little rougher than usual.

You smirked, turning to grab your dress from the hanger. 

“I know. Just finishing up,” you said casually, like the air between you wasn’t crackling with tension. 

You slipped the dress over your head, the soft fabric falling against your skin, but the zipper in the back was out of reach.

Without missing a beat, you turned your back to him, lifting your hair with one hand and glancing over your shoulder. “Help me with the zipper?”

Hotch hesitated for a second before stepping closer, his fingers grazing the smooth fabric of your dress as he reached for the zipper. His touch was light but deliberate, and as he slowly pulled the zipper up, you could feel the tension building with every inch.

The proximity was dizzying, the heat of his body just behind yours making your pulse race. You could sense his restraint, the way his breath caught slightly as his fingers brushed the bare skin of your back.

When he finished, his hands lingered for just a moment too long, and you turned to face him, the atmosphere between you thick with unspoken desire.

“Thanks,” you said softly, your eyes locked on his. You could see it—he was fighting it, the same tension that had been building between you both for months.

Hotch stepped back, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable but his eyes giving him away. 

“We need to stay focused out there,” he said, his voice low, though there was an edge to it now, a struggle between control and something else.

You smiled, that familiar spark of playfulness returning to your voice. “Relax, Hotch. We’ve got this.” You took a step closer, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Unless you want to practice playing the part before we go out there? You know… make sure we’ve got the chemistry down.”

For a moment, Hotch didn’t move, the weight of your words hanging between you like a challenge. His eyes flicked to your lips, his breath steady but shallow. The tension was unbearable, thick with everything unsaid.

He leaned in just slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “We both know there’s no time to finish what you’re starting.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could say anything else, he stepped back, the tension breaking just enough for him to regain his composure.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the door, though his voice carried the weight of everything still lingering between you.

You smiled to yourself as you followed him out, knowing that the real game was just about to begin.

The ride to the event was quiet, the tension between you and Hotch hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you both stayed focused on the task at hand, but every glance he threw your way only reminded you of the moment back in the dressing room.

The team had set up their surveillance positions nearby, and you both stepped out of the car in full undercover mode. 

The luxurious mansion in front of you was buzzing with high-profile guests, and as soon as you stepped into the party, you both had to sell your roles.

It wasn’t hard for either of you to slip into your roles. The emotions you had to display today felt natural, blurring the lines between the act and the very real tension coursing through both of you.

Hotch offered you his arm, and you slipped your hand through it with a practiced ease, the two of you moving through the crowd like you belonged there. But as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, part of the act, the tension returned full force.

“You’re playing the part well,” you teased softly, your lips brushing just close enough to his ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Hotch didn’t falter, but you could feel the slight shift in his body. “Just doing my job,” he replied smoothly, though there was an edge of heat in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed.

As you mingled with the guests, you stayed close, playing the part of the affectionate couple. His hand rested on the small of your back, his touch burning through the thin fabric of your dress, reminding you of every charged moment you’d shared.

At one point, you found yourselves standing at the bar, close enough that your bodies brushed together as you ordered drinks, keeping up the charade. Hotch leaned in, his voice low in your ear. “We’re being watched. Stay close.”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin, the moment too intimate for comfort—but necessary for the mission. You leaned into him, playing along, your fingers lightly trailing down his arm as you whispered, “I’d say you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

You couldn’t resist the teasing grin that spread across your face. “Should we put on a show?”

Before Hotch could respond, a voice crackled through your earpiece—Morgan's voice, full of amusement. “Easy, you two.”

His gaze flickered, caught between amusement and caution, and he opened his mouth to respond—but then your eyes caught a sudden movement in the corner of the room. Your heartbeat quickened, not from the tension between you, but from the job itself. One of the suspects.

You straightened, your body still close to his but your focus shifting, your muscles tensing. “Target spotted,” you said softly, your eyes never leaving the suspect.

Hotch’s hand lingered for a second longer before it withdrew, his expression sharpening, professional mode slipping back into place. His eyes met yours—still aware of the heat simmering between you both—but the job came first.

“Let’s move,” he said, his voice low and controlled, his attention now fully on the mission.

Just like that, the tension between you was replaced by the sharp focus of the mission, though the heat between you never fully disappeared. It was there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next moment you’d be forced to confront it.

As you and Hotch made your way back to the car after the undercover operation, the air between you felt different—heavier, quieter. The playful tension from earlier had faded, replaced by something more serious. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, the sound of your footsteps filling the space.

Finally, Hotch broke the silence, his voice low. “You played the part well.”

You glanced at him, searching his expression. His usual guarded demeanor was still there, but the weight behind his words told you there was more he wasn’t saying. “So did you,” you replied softly, your own voice a little more vulnerable than before.

He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “It felt… real, at times,” he admitted, his words careful, like he was testing the waters.

You swallowed, feeling the gravity of what he was saying. “Yeah,” you said quietly, the teasing tone gone from your voice. “It wasn’t just an act, was it?”

Hotch stopped, turning to face you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, there was no pretense. No game. “No. It wasn’t.”

The silence that followed was thick with understanding, and for once, neither of you felt the need to fill it with banter. This moment—whatever it was—was real.

The drive back to the BAU had been quiet, filled with unspoken words that neither of you seemed ready to address, but now, with the case behind you and the rest of the team gone, the tension that had built throughout the night felt heavier than ever.

The rest of the team had gone home, leaving the building unusually still. Hotch had stayed behind to finish reports, the soft glow of his office light spilling into the empty hallway.

Standing outside his office, Hotch paused, his hand hovering just above the door handle. For months, he’d kept this quiet, simmering tension between them at bay—tucking it away into the same compartment where he'd stored every personal feeling since Haley’s death. It had been easier that way. Safer. But now, with the team gone, the quiet hum of the building around him, and the weight of tonight pressing on his chest, it felt impossible to ignore.

Maybe he was tired of being safe.

Maybe, after everything he’d lost, he deserved to feel something again.

He pushed the door open.

You were sitting on the edge of his desk, legs crossed, a knowing smile playing on your lips as your eyes met his. The sight of you—so calm, so collected—sent a shock of tension straight through him.

“You’re here late,” he said, his voice low and steady, though the crackle of something darker threaded through it. He closed the door behind him, the lock clicking softly as if sealing the two of you in.

“I figured we had some unfinished business,” you replied, your fingers lightly tracing the polished surface of his desk. “And I’ve always wondered what it would be like to sit here.”

Hotch didn’t respond immediately, but his eyes darkened as he took a few slow, measured steps toward you. He kept his composure, but you could see the tension in his posture, the tightness in his jaw. He stopped just in front of you, his presence overwhelming, but still he held back.

“Why my desk?” he asked, his voice even quieter now, as if afraid of where this might lead but unable to stop it.

You leaned back, resting your weight on your hands, your gaze unwavering. “It just seemed… fitting,” you said softly, your voice filled with the same playful edge you’d always used to push him. “I’ve imagined this. Right here.”

Hotch’s breath hitched just slightly, his control slipping as he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the desk beside you. “You’ve imagined this?” His voice was deeper now, his eyes searching yours as if he was still trying to convince himself this wasn’t happening.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a slow smile. “Haven’t you?”

His silence spoke volumes. The tension in the room was palpable, the space between you charged with all the things neither of you had said for months. He stared at you for a long moment, the weight of his hesitation hanging in the air—until finally, the walls he’d built around himself crumbled.

Hotch’s hand slid to your waist, tentative at first, as if testing your reaction. When you didn’t pull away, he stepped even closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours. “I shouldn’t,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your hip, though the way he looked at you said something entirely different.

You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, your breath brushing his lips as you whispered, “Then don’t.”

That was all it took. In an instant, the restraint he’d been holding onto for so long shattered. His hand slid up your back, pulling you toward him as his lips crashed against yours, the months of tension between you igniting in a kiss that was both hungry and desperate.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his hands gripped your waist, lifting you slightly so that you were perched on the edge of the desk. His kiss was firm, controlled at first, but as you responded, matching his intensity, it deepened, the urgency between you building with every second.

His hands moved over you—up your sides, along the curve of your back—claiming every inch of you as if he was trying to make up for all the time he’d spent holding back. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, pressing your body against his as the kiss grew hotter, more demanding.

He pulled back for just a moment, his breath ragged as he looked at you, his eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. “You’ve been driving me crazy,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “Good.”

Without another word, he kissed you again, this time deeper, more insistent, as if there was no going back now. He moved you farther onto the desk, stepping between your legs as his hands roamed your body, your lips parting for him as the kiss deepened.

The world outside his office disappeared, the only sound the soft, ragged breaths you both took between kisses. Hotch’s control had always been something he prided himself on, but now, in this moment, with you, that control was gone. The only thing left was the heat between you, the connection you had been avoiding for so long.

His hands tightened on your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer as he trailed slow, heated kisses along the side of your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine. The feel of him, so close and unrestrained, made your mind race, the fantasy you had harbored for so long now becoming a reality.

When you whispered, “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” his movements paused for just a second. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breath ragged as he took you in—your flushed skin, the hunger in your eyes. His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, dark and filled with desire.

“Is this what you imagined?” Hotch asked softly, his voice thick with heat as his hands slowly slid up your thighs, teasing, testing your resolve. He lingered close, the teasing tone in his words a rare show of vulnerability mixed with control.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat as the intensity of the moment deepened. “It’s better,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly, your fingers tangled in his shirt as you tugged him closer. “But I was hoping we’d get to… the next part of my fantasy.”

Hotch’s lips quirked into the faintest smile, and he let out a low, deep hum, clearly enjoying the way you were unraveling beneath him. “The next part?” he murmured, his lips grazing yours as he spoke. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

You couldn’t help the small smile that played on your lips as you held his gaze, the tension between you electric. “I’ll show you,” you breathed, your voice filled with a teasing edge, daring him to let you take control.

Hotch’s eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and desire, and he shifted slightly, his hands roaming back to your waist, pulling you closer. “Go ahead,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, “show me.”

The challenge was clear. He wasn’t going to stop you. He was going to let you guide him through the very fantasies you had imagined on so many long nights.

And with that, whatever was left of the restraint he’d been clinging to dissolved completely.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

[apheliia]

FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!

[elexuscal]

Welcome to the Murderbot Diaries Fandom!

Hello, hello! Our favorite anxious half robot, half-human security construct has made it to streaming, introducing it to a whole new audience! While that leaves the temptation to put on our helmets and hide in the corner, I'm putting my best foot forward to mimic Dr. Mensah and welcome you all to our hab!

My intention with this post is to give a little bit of a guide to newcomers to get them situated, and generally just say hi.

What's Murderbot?

Murderbot is the titular character of The Murderbot Diaries, a book series by Martha Wells. Book 1, All Systems Red, is currently being adapted by a new streaming series on Apple TV. The (two) series follow a rogue ‘SecurityUnit’ as it befriends humans and robots alike, steals its freedom, and does what it can against the hyper-capitalist companies that rule much of the galaxy.

Spoilers Abound!

As far as we can tell, the (presumed first) season of the Murderbot show will cover only book 1 of what is currently a six-book series (with two additional short stories, and two more entries planned).

As such, there will be spoilers lurking in the tags! This includes future events, reveals, and characters.

If you're new and don't want to be spoiled, stick to the tags #Murderbot Show and #Murderbot TV. It's also a courtesy of fans of the book series to keep TV show discussion in that tag as opposed to the book tags #Murderbot Diaries and #TMBD. (Though I'm going to be honest, there's like a bazillion tags at this point so this might be a losing battle. Oh well, we try!)

Sharing Spaces

The fundamental themes are Murderbot are about the power of kindness and compassion, and the importance of respecting those different from you. Those are ideals I hope we can continue to foster as our little fandom grows.

What does that mean?

Primarily, it means recognizing that there are going to be different perspectives, and that's okay! Some people are really excited by an adaptation of the books they love; some are skeptical. Plus, of course a whole bunch of folks who have only just been introduced to MB via TV! All are valid! Let's not be rude to those who disagree with our own perspective.

It also means respecting different interpretations of the character and stories. We don't know how much the story of books and show are going to diverge; certainly, even faithful adaptations need to make changes to take advantage of a new medium. And indeed, even when you're reading the same text, people can come away with very different perspectives. We need to make room for all those perspectives to hang out together.

Identity and Representation

The Murderbot of the books is nonbinary, using it/its pronouns. There’s heavy emphasis in the text that Murderbot is wholly uninterested in both sex and romance, and it is therefore very commonly interpreted as asexual and aromantic, not to mention touch-averse and neurodivergent. As such, you'll find many folks from these communities within the fandom. Please try to be kind and respectful of these groups!

As always, the fandom principles of 'Ship and Let Ship' and 'Your Kink Is Not My Kink (And That's Okay)' applies. That said, it's a two way street, and there are ways to approach shipping that recognises why many other fans won't share your interests. Write shippy fic, draw shippy art, just tag appropriately and be respectful of ace and aro-spec identities as you do.

Respecting representation also extends to visual depictions of the characters! With a new show out, it of course follows that many people will be making fanart reflecting its cast! However, the books themselves are often very scant on physical descriptions, reflecting Murderbot's often laconic style. This leaves a bit of a blank canvas for fanart. While we're definitely going to be seeing a lot of fanart representing Skarsgard's Murderbot (as well as the rest of the show's cast), you’re also going to be seeing pieces  taking inspiration from other places, such the official book cover art by Tommy Arnold,  the voice actor of the audiobooks, Kevin R. Free, and artists’ own imagination! This means other interpretations of the characters in terms of racial background, build, and gender presentation. That's awesome! Let's keep enthusiasm for all ways of depicting this awesome universe going!

Fandom Is Fun

Above all, fandom is a place of joy, connection, and creativity. Be kind to others; block those who are bringing you down; share and emphasize the things you love!

If this is your first time finding Murderbot; welcome! I think you've got a real treat ahead of you. I'm glad you're here. 👋