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cult-of-artemis-and-athena · 3 months

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Married Single Mothers

A married single mother is a married woman with kids, usually in a dual-income household, who receives no help from her husband with cooking, cleaning, or childcare, such that the way she spends her time - take kids to daycare, go to work, pick kids up, make dinner, put kids to bed, clean (maybe), go to bed - looks like it would if she were a single mother.

Back In The Day(TM) when a dual-income household looked more like a man working a strenuous or high-stress job for long hours, while his wife worked part time, or perhaps full-time in something that was low stress or didn't pay a lot, maybe it could be justified that he could come home, crack open A Beer, sit in the Recliner, and watch The Big Game with no asks or responsibilities. After all, they had a big yard for him to cut, a picket fence to keep painted, two cars to keep up, and a "Honey Do" list. To avoid rehashing the history of work hours them over time, and the factor of profession choice, here are two sources if you don't already know what I'm talking about: https://eh.net/encyclopedia/hours-of-work-in-u-s-history/

https://www.bls.gov/opub/mlr/1997/04/art1full.pdf

Now, however, the gap between men and women's hours worked and the type of work they're doing is closing. If there's a couple who are bringing home similar wages at a non-management desk job, and maybe she works 40 hours and he works 44 hours. It's really hard to argue why that 4 extra hours of work justifies him watching TV, hanging out with friends, or doing his hobbies instead of helping with childcare or other "indoor chores". If they're urban renters, he can't even claim that more strenuous but less frequent chores like home repairs, cutting the grass or fixing the cars compensate for not cooking, cleaning, or raising his kids. Oh you take the trash to the dumpster? So does the 60 year old lady down the hall?

As I usually do, I'll start by blaming the Victorians by democratizing upper-class gender roles because, now displaced from their farms and having their work taken away by machines and mass production, middle class women had nothing to do. Now, working was just for the poor, and middle-class Victorian identity revolved a great deal around not looking poor. What were they supposed to do all day? Definitely not become rigorously educated or political active...At the same time, child labor was outlawed (considering factories and mines are different from family farms, justifiably so) and children became "economically worthless but emotionally priceless". So, like eugenics and breeding fucked-up-looking dogs, a contrived version of floral saccharine motherhood became the status quo -- be dedicate the whole of one's being, identity, purpose, and existence to raising children.

The 1950s were almost like a Renaissance of this ideal, likely as a reflexive response to men being away in the hell that is war. Women who may not have chosen to do so under any other circumstances were working in factories, filling in other jobs men left for the war, and having to live in relative austerity due to wartime rationing and shortages. A lot of men returning from the war were lonely and homeless, and they'd spent their time away living in inhospitable concrete bunkers and mud holes, constantly surrounded by death and destruction, and not knowing if they will go home at all (would home even be there when they returned?). Women whose husbands or boyfriends were drafted spent all that time wondering if that man could be dead. Single women had to mostly put their romantic lives on hold. When the war ended, most people was overcompensating toward cocooning and romanticization of home, social order, and family life.

Do I blame them? Not necessarily.

Has it still had unintended negative consequences? Yeah.

Trad LARPers idealize the 1950s when it was actually a very exceptional time. On one hand, it was the result of a psychological reaction against WWII. On the other, it was a time of unprecedented economic prosperity -- and what goes up must come down. I'm not an economist but I do subscribe to the cyclical view of history and even if the general trend line of something like GDP trends upward, it has to go down to some extent to move upward. https://ourworldindata.org/female-labor-supply

Women's labor participation in the US and UK had marginally increased from pre-WWII to post-war. Interestingly, Germany had about 15-20% higher female labor participation than the US since about 1895, which also increased gradually during the pre-WWII era, and peaked during Kinder, Küche, Kirche Nazi rule before returning to a similar level as 1895, where it remained until the 1980s. It's not as simple as every Western woman was once fulfilled as a docile tradwife, then Betty Friedan wrote a book, and then the fabric of society was torn asunder by the Boss Babe Apocalypse.

If not feminism, then what do I think made it so hard for families to live on a single income - gender of the earner irrelevant - and made things so generally unaffordable?

Three words: The Powell Memo.

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I would caution against taking the memo at face value as many do, as an earnest call for business leaders to defend themselves against Communists and Fascists who hate "free enterprise". Rather, it can be read as an emotional fear-mongering call for businesses to weaponize the government to, really, take over the country in a multi-pronged effort which resulted in neoconservative and arguably neoliberalism.

At timestamp 48:17 Historiansplaining starts analyzing the memo and placing it in the larger context. Please listen to it. It's comfortable to listen to at 2x speed so it's not that long. There are shorter views but they are extremely biased and not near as nuanced as this one.

The banking industry is a problem. Obviously having the most people with the most debt possible that they're still able to reliably pay on is in the interest of banks. If it exists, there's a loan for it. Credit card debt is a huge problem for Americans. The 30 year mortgage was introduced with the New Deal to help destitute people buy houses, now most people who buy houses use a 30 year mortgage to have remotely affordable payments. There are now 50 year mortgages and those will be the "new normal" if the trend doesn't reverse.

Part of the housing cost crisis is due to 1920s-1060s zoning restrictions created to protect property values, but also to create de facto class- and race-segregated neighborhoods. I'm not the type of person to argue that it's a human right to live in downtown LA or Manhattan, but if it's possible and desired to build affordable housing in a certain place and the only thing preventing it is zoning law, lobbyists, or NIMBY Karens, then that's a problem that can and should be addressed.

The auto industry and adjacent corporations lobbied urban planners to design in a way that would encourage or force people to buy their products. We have the automakers weighing in on efficiency standards such that, instead of like every other country that bases efficiency on weight, American cars are based on footprint which gives automakers leeway to sell more profitable SUVs. Do we need screens and cameras in our cars? No, but people who want new cars don't have another option. Can't afford it? Some companies (ex. Nissan) have moved from 7- to 10-year car loans. By the time you've paid your car off, the transmission will have turned into a tube of K'Nex and it'll be time to finance another one.

College loans, whether they're through a bank or the government -- universities win because they got your money. The Boomers were the last generation to be able to pay for their tuition with a summer job flipping burgers. The midcentury expansion of federal lending - which like the 30 year mortgage started as a measure strictly for the very poor - has caused tuition to fill the space allotted. Useless majors and required electives have exploded since the federal student loan expansion.

Speaking of which, credential inflation means that not only do you have to pay more for college, but you have to go longer just to access the same jobs. In some fields, someone with a Masters degree and the debt to go with it may end up earning just a bit more than the hypothetical $15/hour minimum wage.

The majority of Americans live in a state of debt slavery as a result of what some may call "crony capitalism" but I prefer "economic Fascism" because a) The F-Word makes a lot of people uncomfortable and b) it's technically true. Corporatism, the economic facet of Fascism is defined as "the organization of society by corporate groups, such as agricultural, labour, military, business, scientific, or guild associations, on the basis of their common interest".

If we don't live in economic Fascism, then what the fuck would we be doing different?

After addressing the contrivance that is gender roles-as-we-know-them and going on a meander through economics, I'll now acknowledge my digression and return to the topic of married single mothers.

Due to these economic conditions, most households with kids are dual income by necessity. Tradcons like to portray dual-income households as self-indulgently depriving their kids of an at-home parent for the sake of affording a bigger house, nicer cars, or more vacations. That's not the case and most dual-income households are that way moreso to afford necessities, and I don't think it's reasonable to expect a whole family to move into one of their parents' house, get on benefits, or live in a van just to be able to be able to afford being single-income.

In general, the root of the problem, unsurprisingly, is the mismatch between neo-midcentury ways of doing things and the reality of The Current Year.

The neo-midcentury way goes somewhat like: go to college for your Passion. Get an advanced degree because - don't worry - you will be able to get a high paying job and the debt won't be a problem if the name on your diploma is a Very Good one. Just go to college. Just get a degree.

Like the mainstream media tells you, look for Love At First Sight. Don't be a buzz-kill who thinks or talks about your future plans until at least 6 months into the relationship when you're afraid to leave due to sunk-cost fallacy and secretly afraid to commit due to FOMO. Time to get married. This is such a special time to have your first debt together. Make sure you have a credit card to put your honeymoon on.

Move to a high-demand area, but not so high-demand that you can't afford it obviously. You're going to want to move to the second most popular area so your commute can be between 1-2 hours and your mortgage will assure you live paycheck to paycheck. Because you're commuting for so much of the day, you'll need a nice car, so definitely buy it new.

Now it's time to have a kid. Everything you've done to this point, you find, has set you up in one way or another for failure. It would be cheaper for one to stay home, but their future earnings would be at risk and it's too expensive to pay for two student loans with one paycheck. Plus his spreadsheet job is just so much more important than your spreadsheet job. Because why? Because it just is. You've already moved a few hour drive away from any relatives who could help with childcare.

"Did we really agree to have kids? Did we really want it to be like this? Or were we just going through the motions, smiling and nodding to the expectations of society and our parents?" you wonder as the 18 month old in your arms noticeably shits their diaper and hits you in the face with a sippy cup while you stoop to pick up the dino nugget the 3 year old has dropped over and over again while some Cocomelon bullshit plays on their greasy, sticky iPad...all while your husband plays Elden Ring in the next room. You call out for help. Did he really not hear you, or does he want plausible deniability. Who is this man you married?

But wait...your vision is black with a glowing orange circle above. You hear distant music. You open your eyes... "Destination wedding? Cocomelon? Married single mom? What are you talking about? You must have hit your head hard," says a teenager with greasy black hair and a Korn t-shirt. They extend their hand and help you off the ground. You stand. "Come on, we're gonna miss Hatebreed."

I'm not an antinatalist, so I lean toward most people probably should at least consider having kids. I, for one, want the human species to persist. People who don't are pretty cringe -- black-pilled about the environment, or they're mad that they were born without their consent (?) because they have to wake up every day and experience First World Problems.

Who we decide to marry is possibly the most important decision we make. More than where we live or what profession we choose. We're caught between the old-fashioned way that works under a specific set of circumstances that largely don't apply anymore, and a modern way that is little more than a reactionary movement against the social mores of Old People without considering life beyond age 27.

As Nietzsche foretold (PBUH), modernity puts us in a position with no easy answers. We don't have a god telling us what our values are and what we should do with ourselves, and existing with so many possibilities is almost more dangerous and burdensome in a way than having a pre-determined system like tradition. The boundary between good and evil isn't always clear and it's rarely straight. Many enemies take many forms; they can appear as anything and can speak from both sides of their mouth at the same time.

Freedom is very hard because you're not just yourself. You are yourself and god at the same time. It's not as simple as obeying a disembodied voice anymore. I'm not blaming married single moms at all for the position they find themselves in because they're victims of society. People who were supposed to be giving them good advice were giving conflicted and outdated advice, and probably acting out the old axiom that misery loves company.

I really have a beef with the Boomers, too, for normalizing the idea that being married is hell -- the end of one's individuality and anything they once enjoyed or valued. When society holds up doing the bare minimum - it's miserable but it's not outright abusive - as what young people should expect from marriage, it means the young people aren't looking for or insisting on better for themselves.

Women get accused of having unrealistic standards. "They all want a man who's 6' tall, has 6-pack abs, and makes 6 figures!" Fair enough, that's statistically a rare type and not enough to go around to all the women who want that. However, any time a woman has any standards beyond the absolute bare minimum - not physically abusive, not addicted to substances in a functionally detrimental way, has a job, has all his appendages, can walk and talk - it gets compared to asking for a "666 man".

When women complain (rightly) about being a married single mom or the "double shift", particularly tradcon and redpill men will say, "ACKSHYUALLY you don't want a man to help with chores because such and such statistic says women will go bang Alpha Tyrone if their man does chores, so you don't know what you want and you'll actually be happier if you do all chores and childcare yourself because that's what makes women fulfilled."

That's a convenient conclusion to reach.

"There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics." -- Mark Twain

People can't want different things, too. Women aren't a monolith. I definitely believe too there are women who don't know what they want. A lot of people in general are running on societal programming that, on some level they recognize is herding them off a cliff, but they don't have the vocabulary - they don't even have the gastalt(?) - to describe what is happening.

There's a very good faith contingent of the men's rights movement that's expressing very admirable sentiments that are compatible with what the good faith contingent of what feminists are saying.

They're saying: "Why are we assumed to be expendable? Why is it shameful for a man to say he wants to stay home and raise a family? Why is a man's worth still based on how much money he makes? Why do some people assume that if a man is interacting with a kid in public that he's a predator? Why are chores and childcare seen as emasculating?"

Some people can believe in and live according to traditional gender roles, which is their business, but there's a missed opportunity here. Many women find conflict between wanting a family and pursuing their career, and/or want a more equitable distribution of housework in dual-income households; and there is a portion of men who would like to be able to care less about their career and more about their family, or they want to raise a family and don't care about work at all.

To the extent that men - or a particular man - are held to a traditional gender role, any woman who involves herself will be expected to fill the complementary support role. In a society where dual-income households are economically mandatory, women can't fulfill that role whether the individual woman wants to or not. Even if she would otherwise enjoy childcare and chores as a SAHM if the choice were available, adding full-time work to that- no one has the mental bandwidth for that.

While the interim quasi-solution for this requires, on an individual level, women to be pragmatic and creative, to look beyond the inadequate guidance of people who grew up in completely different conditions - who arguably didn't even do that fucking great for themselves - "just make better choices" doesn't fix the problem. The push for women to enter the workforce wasn't accompanied by an equal push for men to enter the home, and I'm going to dedicate a post to that.

#feminism #amazon feminism #married single mothers #performative femininity #stay at home parent #modernity #corporatism #debt slavery #stay at home dad #men's liberation #the second shift #traditional gender roles #gender roles

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

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eat your heart out | s. hitoshi

➳ tags ;; 18+ mdni, femdom, escort!shinso, sugar mommy / client reader, fem!reader, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, porn with plot, mutual masturbation, sub!shinso, kinda bratty shinso, reader is rich n powerful, facesitting, unprotected sex / creampies, shinso is a lil insecure, wine / alcohol (both parties r mostly sober), heavy praise kink lol, no titles, mouth-spitting (u spit wine into shinso mouf)

➳ wc ;; 10.2k (i’ve lost my mind ..)

➳ a/n ;; inspired by the song ‘the hills’ by the weeknd. sorry it’s a little late!

➳ plot ;; shinso hitoshi is an escort and you are his favorite client. the weird thing about it is that well.. you’ve never actually slept with him before. after spending a day with you and the influence of a little alcohol - he can’t help but wonder why.

The elevator plays a familiar tune

It’s always a Frank Sinatra song in this hotel, on the eastern end of Kyoto. It’s a big building, reaching the heavens despite it’s almost unholy architecture. All glass, bulletproof windows that surround the lowest floor like a skeleton, and floors of hotel rooms stacked on top of each other like Jenga. Despite the time - somewhere after midnight but a little ways before dawn, every single room is lit up with familiar yellow lights. The city never sleeps, he supposes.

It’s always busy, the luxury hotel boasts more than just rooms and suites but a casino in the basement and a buffet somewhere towards the back. With all of the work under his belt, he still feels like he has to catch his breath when he enters here. The receptionist's desk is made of a stained, glossy cherry wood and hosts a big chandelier over the top of it. There’s a petite woman working at the front desk - she looks unusually relaxed.

A lingering scent of dark liquor is always the most obvious thing, mixed in with expensive cologne and cheap perfume. He watches older men with women half their age seated in their lap. The women in these places are always beautiful, no matter how much they cut corners for their job. All types of bodies in all types of clothes with little underneath them. The only difference between an escort and a prostitute is the material of their outfit, really.

They have hungry gazes when he enters the foyer. Like animals maybe, raring to go at the sight of him. Dressed in an expensive dress-shirt, slacks, and a blazer hung lazily over his shoulder. He can understand the confusion.

He doesn’t have the heart to explain they’re of the same profession so he normally gives them a soft wave and a wink - whatever gets them to smile quicker. And after that they giggle and go back to entertaining whatever rich man has bought their attention for the night.

He thinks he’s been in this field for too long for this to make him sick but he can’t help but wince a little every time. His stomach churns with something wide and vague, something that leaves a bitter feeling in his mouth.

He drapes himself over the receptionist desk with a lazy grin.

“Hello, here for a room under the last name L/N?”

The woman at the desk has her eyes widen at the sight of him. He doesn’t consider himself all that interesting looking but he knows he’s handsome. She blushes as she types something into her computer swiftly.

“Name and ID?”

He slips his wallet out from his back pocket before reciting his name back to her. A few more brief moments of waiting and slips him a slim and all black keycard. She can’t bring her eyes to look at him again.

“Y-you’re on the 7th floor,”

He gives her a quick smile, patting the desk with his palms and snatching some candy out of the little bowl.

“Thank you,”

He turns on his heel, popping a mint into his mouth before throwing away the wrapper in an overly glamorous trash can near the elevator. He presses the little button and waits - pleased to see that no one else would be accompanying him.

He slips himself into the empty elevator and immediately presses the button for the 7th floor. It’s Frank Sinatra - specifically ‘I’ve Got A Crush On You’, playing at almost full volume. The melody is soft and light. He hums it under his breath as the doors start to close in front of him, getting a final glance at the foyer before they do.

This whole place is surrounded by mirrors, so he steps back and checks his appearance. He looks a little more disheveled than he really wants too, given he was just with another client. His beard is scratchy per the request of his last one and he really hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep. His body is physically spent and he’s worn out beyond belief from last night.

The money in his pocket prevents him from being upset but he wishes he could look a little better for you. The thought of it has him blushing, skin faintly pink as he pokes and prods at his appearance. Straightening his slacks, fixing his button down.

He knows it’s entirely unnecessary. Acting brand new with you really makes no sense at all. You’re his longest client, and his favorite one of all of his regulars. It’d probably be an understatement to call you special but he knows it’s true.

It’s silly to think about it too hard, but he can’t really control it. His stomach turns and flips but before it can too long - the elevators pry themselves open. He’s greeted by a seemingly never-ending hallway. The floor is draped in a lush carpet, velvety red and the walls have the most expensive and white-gold wall-papers. He’s been in this exact position a million times, it’s always the same room and the same place. The same hotel.

Everything about it is exceptionally familiar to him but the nervous feeling in his belly is unrelenting. Unforgiving, really. He steps out of the elevator and walks into the main hallway - looking both ways only to find it devoid of any life. The air is stale and ice cold in his lungs as he walks towards the door.

727 sits pretty on the front, plastered on a cream-colored piece of wood and hung up. He knocks on the dark grey door 3 times, and taps his foot anxiously. There’s some shuffling on the other side and when the door swings open.

He’s seen this, done this, experienced this a million times before. But no matter how many times he looks at you - he feels like the air is being knocked out of his lungs. With his breath snatched from right beyond his ribs, he gives a soft and wide-eyed stare.

You answer the door with a lazy smile - nude lipstick softly smeared and dark eye-shadow partly smudged. It’s how you do your makeup when you’re going to parties, he’s come to realize. You must’ve just gotten here, the way you’re still dressed in your clothes. It’s a pantsuit - all black with a low-dip on your chest. It reaches a bit past the floor so it bunches at your slippered feet. He stumbles back, his heart hammering upon laying lavender eyes on you.

“Hey, stranger,” ― you greet, hanging off the doorframe ― “Nice of you to finally make it,”

Shinso gives you a sheepish smile as you move out the way for him to enter, shutting the door softly behind him. He can feel your eyes on his figure as you lean on the wall and watch him slip off his dress shoes and put on slippers. You take pleasure in watching him and he knows that, can tell as much.

If he didn’t feel so nervous around you - he might’ve been smug about it.

“Sorry I’m late,” ― he replies, slipping his blazer onto a chair before turning to face you ― “Finding an Uber this late on a Thursday night was rough,”

You shake your head as if telling him not to worry about it. You lock the door behind you as you step to him. Shinso is taller than you by a few inches, enough that you have to reach your hand up. You cup his face with your palm and he relaxes into it without so much as a second though.

That funny feeling stirs inside of him again, chewing on his lower lip as you greet him with such affection.

“No worries, Shin,” ― your voice is remarkably low ― “Are you alright?”

He knows this isn’t really about his mental state as much as it’s literal. You always ask him that out of instinct. He thinks you have a sixth sense about when he’s been with a client or maybe the exhaustion is just that obvious. He isn’t sure he wants to find out which one it is. He blinks at you, skin pink, almost nuzzling into your hands. That hungry feeling returns with no subtly as he nods.

“She was gentle with me,” ― he tells you, unsure of how to be in front of you, like always ― “I’m fine,”

You pat his cheek before removing yourself from him. And the affection and warmth is gone too quickly for his liking - he’s hoping he’ll get lucky tonight and that you’ll ask him to come lay with you for a while.

“Have you eaten anything?”

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles faintly causing you to break out into giggles as he blushes even harder. Without missing a beat, you hand him a book for room service and sit next on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside you.

“Come here and tell me what you wanna eat, yeah?” ― you lean back, shaking out a crick in your neck ― “I’ll order it for you while you’re in the shower,”

He gives you a confused look but sits next to you anyways, flipping through the menu as he balances it on his leg and yours.

“I don’t have any clothes,”

You chuckle a little, patting his knees.

“I bought you some,”

A strange feeling settles inside of his heart upon your words. He squirms a little in his seat, scratching the back of his neck before clicking his teeth.

“Tsk, you didn’t have to -”

“Do that for you. Just tell me to bring clothes next time,” ― you finish for him, laughing lightly ― “Spare me the lecture, Shin - I’ve heard it a million times already,”

He glares at you playfully before sighing, dropping his head onto your shoulder. His head feels light, skin tingly.

“Whatever,” ― he huffs ― “..Thanks, though,”

This makes you laugh again and Shinso ignores the way his whole body reacts to the sound. The little pleasantry shouldn’t have this much of an effect on him. He hopes and prays you can’t hear the way his heart sounds.

“Yeah, yeah - you’re welcome. Now pick something out and go shower,”

You already know what he wants to eat but you watch with content as he goes through the menu anyways. It’s always the same - fried chicken and some form of potatoes and sometimes he’ll let him get dessert. Most of the time, you order it for him even though he never asks and it seems like today is one of those days.

He points out the same thing, like you had predicted before grabbing the bag of clothes and heading to the shower. You don’t look at him twice when he leaves, grabbing the remote and immediately getting comfortable in the wide, queen bed.

The bathroom is a nice reprieve to cool Shinso’s nerves.

It’s huge, this bathroom. Meant for a couple - given the way there’s a heart-shaped bathtub, rose-petals, and a large bottle of bubble-bath soap sitting on the counter, wrapped in ribbon. The ceilings are high and it’s well-lit like you could see every detail - but there’s a little knob to dim the lights too.

He stares at himself in the big, oval mirror. He can almost tell how flustered he is as he stares at himself for a long while. Silky purple locks now droop with the heaviness of the day, and his eyebags are worse than usual. It’d be polite to call him haggard and he finds himself embarrassed to look at his reflection.

Really, he just finds himself embarrassed to exist in your presence. For as long as this exchange has gone on, Shinso always ends up at his wits end. He checks his appearance with urgency and can’t help but zone out as he thinks about every single thing he’s done since he arrived with an ever increasing amount of scrutiny.

He decides promptly that these are thoughts that belong in the shower so he sighs and turns away from the mirror - stripping himself of his clothes. He unbuttons the white dress shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders, undoing his belt and ungracefully tugging his pants and boxer briefs down in one fell swoop. The sudden feeling of cold air all over his body makes him shiver.

He turns again to examine his figure. His body is muscular in its own right but he’s mostly lean muscle. His torso is thin and his stomach is flat but nothing about him is all that defined other than his upper arms. His forearms are thick and veiny.

His entire body could be described as an acquired taste he thinks. Even bare naked, he doesn’t think he’s all that bad to look at. He’s exceptionally well-kept thanks to his job - hair above his dick trimmed nicely. He’s clean everywhere. There’s nothing.. wrong with him physically he doesn’t think.

Shaking his head, he opens the glass shower door, turns the water as hot as it can go, and steps inside.

With a clean loofah hanging dry on the wall, he squirts some hotel shower gel into it and starts to scrub over every inch of skin. He showered before coming but he still feels grimy, so it’s a nice feeling. The hot water relaxes his muscles as he lets his thoughts drift again.

If he wasn’t entirely spent, he’d also probably have his dick in his hand. There’s a routine to all of this and that’s normally part of it but his body is at peak exhaustion right now. His eyes already feel heavy and he can only hope he doesn’t pass out in the shower.

Despite all that, his head is only filled with thoughts of you, the same thing he always thinks when he ends up here..

Why haven’t you had sex with him yet?

It’s funny, isn’t it?

For most escorts he knows, the part about having sex can be the worst part of the job. Even for high-end escorts like Hitoshi himself - ultimately your body is a product more than your work is a service. You’re being paid to be whatever your client wants and it changes all the time, varies from client to client.

He has it a little easier because he’s a male escort, and most of his regulars have been mostly women in their 40’s and 50’s with a lot of money who are looking for the ‘boyfriend’ experience. It’s really a stroke of luck, all things considered. All of the women in his field have to deal with old men who have a nasty reputation of being disgusting, no pun intended. Having heard even half of the things some of his friends have said about it - he knows it to be true too.

Some people don’t mind the sex part since they don’t really think that being an escort is more than that. A true professional knows that escorting is having to play a little bit of every role - the therapist, the partner, the temptress. High-end callboys and girls are responsible for being more than just a thing to fuck and take out their stress and the better you are at your job, the easier it is to find regulars.

Other people find it degrading but most people just consider it an often annoying part of the job. You are a fantasy on legs - and you get quite handsome tips for being filthier than you ever really plan on being at the start. The sex isn’t always to your liking. It’s too rough or too much and most of your clients aren’t exactly looking to be giving partners.

It’s easier than being on the street corner (safer, too) but he’d argue the mental strain is a lot more exhausting. He feels like he’s playing a role and it’s not one he always enjoys. A lot of his regulars are nice women- most of them lonely with husbands who rarely ever come home. Some of them are downright bad people.

But beggars can’t be choosers so Shinso does what he does best and slinks into whatever role they want him to play. Some nights he’s a mean and callous secret affair - he pulls hair and clashes teeth and lets them scratch his back up.

Other nights he’s a sweet and endearing lover, he holds them and whispers sweet nothings and listens to them complain about their problems like he cares.

Almost all of the time though, it ends in sex. It’s not particularly meaningful or particularly good sex. The whole act has essentially lost its meaning for him, especially in a casual way.

Sex is just sex. Part of the job. And he can have it with his eyes closed but it doesn’t really feel like anything. Mostly, he wants it to be over so he can go home and get some sleep. The whole field of work is exhausting on his spirit.

But it pays rent, and it’s food on the table - and he’s really not in any place to question it when it ends up being so important. He avoids thinking about it too hard when he can because there’s not really any reason to do so.

He finds it.. odd though. That despite knowing all of this, he gets this horrible discomfort at the fact you don’t seem to wanna sleep with him.

Shinso’s self-worth has never been all that high, but he can say with certainty he’s good at his job. He’s handsome enough to catch eyes everywhere he goes. He’s strong, always smells good, is witty and intelligent. Good in bed. He’s good on paper.

Maybe it’s because you knew him when he wasn’t any of those things. After all, you were his longest regular. He wasn’t as put-together about this whole ordeal, so nervous around everything that so much as breathed in his direction. He’d gone to a party that night to look for clients in the ballroom of a place just down the street from this very hotel.

You took him up on his services but didn’t sleep with him. You didn’t even kiss him or touch him. Instead, you sat in a hotel room together and drank the entire night. Shinso confessed to you his life story - why he’s here and how he’d never done this before. He expected you to take him on his offer and at least ask for some oral or something. But you didn’t. You simply shook your head at him and told him that wasn’t necessary.

Then you let him talk to you some more. You told him about yourself - you’re head of a big company and child of a powerful man. You have more money than you know what to do with so you came to this event. Apparently, you weren’t expecting much but you found him handsome and that’s why you’re here now.

He still remembers blushing at your words as you took another sip. The light flush in your skin as you giggled at his still shy demeanor.

You’re older than Shinso by three years. He was 22 and you were 25. It’s been three years since then and Shinso’s grown up a lot, he thinks. Maybe you won't sleep with him because you know all this is an act or maybe you never found him attractive to begin with.

He knows it shouldn’t matter. No matter what you do, you pay Shinso almost three times his rent every single time he’s with you. You do it once a month, just on time - and you never do anything more than talk. If you’re tipsy enough or tired enough, you’ll let him lay on your chest as you vent but never anything farther than that. Not once have you crossed the boundary with him of intimacy like that.

You’re just a client and this is just a simple relationship, an exchange of words for money. He knows that better than anyone.

But he can’t help but feel.. shitty about it . He can’t help but wonder what's wrong with him if you don’t want him in a physical way. Maybe it’s because you know about all his baggage so intimately you can’t bring yourself to sleep with him out of pity.

He knows it shouldn’t matter but it does. It matters so much to him he hardly knows what to do with himself over the fact you won’t sleep with him and you’ve never even shown any interest.

Romantic relationships in this field are something of a complete anomaly. It might work if you're dating your pimp or madam, maybe if you’re both escorts even - but with the way things tended to be, it was hard. Shinso had 0 expectations of a love life for however long he was at this job.

But if there are words to describe this never ending longing better than “love”, he’d be hard-pressed to find it.

It’s really a whole pain in this ass to admit it to even himself, in his head. Romantic feelings? For a client? He’s out of his damn mind.

But you treat him so.. kindly. So differently from everyone else. You always call him ‘Shin’ with a honeyed tone, and you let him sleep when he comes over if he’s too tired. You feed him and buy him clothes and play with his hair sometimes. You talk to him like he’s a person and maybe he’s just… unused to tenderness.

But even if that is the case, it’s been years and you have an iron-tight grip on his heart.

And from how things have been going and how he continues to feel - it doesn’t seem like you have any plans of letting go anytime soon.

When Shinso exits the bathroom, he finds you lying on your back watching some reruns of Love Island playing on the TV. You’ve undressed and wiped off your makeup - now in pajamas and settled in the sheets. When you notice him, you eagerly shift to the other side and pat it for him to lay down which he does without a second thought. You’ve got a bottle of wine and two glasses waiting - unusual since you rarely drink with him.

He plops himself down besides you, turning to face you as you do the same.

“Is there a special date I’ve missed or something? What’s all this for?”

He gestures his head to the wine on the other side. You give him a soft shrug.

“Ah, sorta. Not sure if you wanna hear about it though,” ― you look at him sheepishly, yawning ― “Nothing very interesting to you,”

He wants to say everything about you is interesting to him but that’s entirely too corny. So he flicks you softly, shaking his head.

“Shut up and tell me,” but there’s no bite to it. You turn to lay on your back, laying to look at the ceiling. You lightly trace the patterns with your fingers, shutting your eyes.

“Did I.. ever mention I was engaged?”

His heart falls into his stomach, blinking rapidly before staring at you. He lays on his back now too, voice gone quiet. Unsure of how to respond, he stops. He can feel his heart clench, forcing a reply.

“Uh.. no, I don’t think so,”

You chuckle a little.

“He uh.. we weren’t serious,” ― you explain clumsily, lips pressed into a thin line like it stresses you out to think of the details ― “He really liked me and our marriage was mostly PR but I was lonely. I thought I might grow to like him,”

The flickering ember of hope in his heart is enough to push him, aching to know more.

“Did you?”

You shake your head and laugh, letting your neck crane over to look at him.

“I didn’t. Something came up and suddenly, I had different priorities,”

He just barely masks the relief in his expression, coughing lightly and trying to distract from his reaction.

“Well then uh, what’s wrong?”

You turn over to face him with not much to say. You reach over and tuck some loose hair behind his ear before retracting your hand. The small bit of affection is enough to send him reeling.

“Not wrong really. He got re-engaged today and it feels weird since I haven’t really made much progress in my life,”

He rolls his eyes at you.

“Oh yeah, opening your own company is pretty boring,”

You frown at him before sighing, scratching your scalp.

“I guess so but uh.. it’s not what I want, really”

He seems confused by your reply. You wonder if he knows just how dense he really is at times, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you want then?”

You giggle a little and shake your head.

“Something I can’t really have,” you say with a shrug.

He gasps aloud sarcastically.

“There’s something like that out there? Seriously?”

He’s expecting a typically witty response like the ones he normally gets from you. A rolling of eyes and a gentle shove as you tell him to pipe down or something along those lines. What he isn’t expecting is the way your eyes go lidded, smile curved up - blinking endlessly. The mellowness in your gaze as you nod.

“The funny thing is, it's so close to me sometimes. Almost like.. I could have it if I just... reached for it,”

Your sincerity strikes a chord in him, and he finds himself responding again without thinking twice..

“What’s stopping you?”

You give him a shrug.

“It’s not really my place to reach for it, I guess,” ― you explain, half-heartedly, just tired from thinking of it ― “It’s whatever, really,”

He can tell you want to stop talking about it but he can’t help but be curious. Still, he swallows whatever questions he has and lets you lay like that for a while. Observing you comes naturally to him these days, silently but probably not all that subtle.

A silence stretches between the two of you like how a cat moves in the summer sun. A comfortable exhaustion, where neither of you can find it in yourselves to move from your spot. It's unlikely you'll drink tonight. You yawn a little, heavy eyelids as you look at him.

“Hey, Shin,”

He hums, tiredly.

“Do you wanna spend tomorrow with me, too?”

He isn’t really sure if he heard you correctly until he opens his eyes to your expression. You’ve caught your lower lip between your teeth, nervously waiting for his reply. Shinso’s eyes widen as he stares at you, completely dumbfounded.

“A-are you sure? Aren’t you normally uh.. pretty busy during the weekdays?”

“Yeah but I took some time off since everythings been going well. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a break,” you explain

“And you wanna spend that time off with me…? I heard that correctly?”

You laugh at it though you know his question is genuine. You nod.

“You did, actually. It’s okay if you’re busy - I just thought it might be a good change of pace and I’ll still pay you. I need to go run some errands but we could make a day of it,” ― your give him a soft smile ― “No pressure,”

He blinks at you, dumbfounded.

“No I.. that would be cool. I’d like that,” he chokes out, heart stuttering.

You smile at him.

“Good,” ― you lean over, pressing a kiss to his temple before getting up to dim the lights ― “You look exhausted so get some sleep in,”

“R-right,”

He feels your weight as you slip into bed again, still facing him but closing your eyes.

“Night, Shinso”

“..Night,”

How did things end up like this?

With a hand on his thigh, and the spike of warmth in his chest - that’s all he can think to ask himself.

After last night, he’d woken up to find an empty bed and a paper-note crinkled up on the bedside table. It told him to get dressed and whenever you came back - the two of you would go out. You had a list of errands you needed to run and all Shinso had to do was go with you.

And he was ready to do that - he showered, got dressed, and when you arrived, accompanied you all day to do whatever tasks you needed.

Your first stop was the bank to deposit a check and take out a hefty sum of cash - half of which you handed to Shinso with a not so subtle wink.

After that - you went to your office to drop off some paperwork, with Shinso in tow and then to the Shopping Centre where you bought him an excessive amount of clothes and a brand-new watch he absolutely didn’t need. You even made him give you a little show, telling him to come out of the dressing room so he could see him in each outfit.

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you’d paid for both of his meals after having breakfast. You’d spent the whole day together and you’d essentially sugared him the whole time.

It wasn’t like Shinso minded . But as a pining escort, having your attention like this all day was doing terrible things to his heart. The never-ending yearning only seemed to swell up further and every gentle touch - a hand on his knee or you holding his arm, only served to make it worse.

He was torn between wanting the day to end and never wanting it too but he knew it’d be terrible for him if it continued on.

You asked him if he’d like to drink with you tonight since you couldn't last night and Shinso had said yes like the love-sick fuck he is. So you get back to the hotel room, order an expensive few bottles of wine, and pour him a few drinks. He could sleep the night and leave the next morning with cash in hand and all new items and that would be that.

Shinso knows you rarely drink and given the fact you’re choosing to spend so much time with him, he’s certain you’re going through something. And he’s fine with accompanying you through it, comfortable giving you whatever you need.

But it’s oh-so bad for his heart. It’s bad to watch you drink and see your cheeks get flushed and glow in the dim lights. It’s bad to feel your hand creep-up on his thigh as the drinks loosen you and you get comfortable.

And it’s hard for him to shut himself up when he wants you so badly anyways. When you’re so close but so far all at once and he’s losing track of his sense of dignity or pride as you drink another sip, and rub your thumb into the meat of his thigh and he’s looking at you with so much longing .

You take a sip from your glass, stem between your fingers when your voice startles him out of his trance.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now, y’know,” ― you tell him, tapping his leg ― “If you have something you wanna say, just say it. No judgement,”

He gives you a strained look. Chewing the inside of his lip, he leans forward with his elbows on the table, cautiously moving so nothing spills. His eyes focus on the cork, fiddling with it to calm his nerves.

It goes dead silent, like everything in the entire world has stopped. Not a single car on the street or life of any kind. Just you and him, alone in this hotel room.

“Why haven’t you..” ― he trails off, wincing at his own vulgar words ― “Why won’t you.. sleep with me?

Upon hearing his question, you freeze. Worried he’s upset you, he immediately goes to correct himself. Tell you that you don’t have to answer, he’s just being stupid but instead of getting angry, you laugh.

It’s a chuckle at first but it tapers off into full-blown giggles and eventually you put the glass down just to laugh. He’s not sure if he should be offended or not by it so he sits and waits for you to catch your breath.

You lean back in your chair, hands splayed on the table as you observe all the rings on your fingers. Silver and diamonds, manicured nails and all. You tap them on the table, sighing before shrugging.

“Well, not like I have any reason not to tell you,” ― you say sighing ― “Try not to think too hard about it I guess,”

“What is it?”

“Ah well, there’s two reasons,”

He squints.

“..Okay? What are they?”

You smile at him, cracking your knuckles before resting them on the table again.

“Well, firstly - I like you” ― you say casually, all too easily for him to even process. His eyes widen the size of saucers, shock punching him in the gut ― “And I felt like sleeping with you like this.. under these circumstances would make me like the rest of your clientele so there’s that,’

What the fuck .

“Wh-whats the other reason?”

You smile.

“I’m into some pretty weird stuff,” you say with a shrug.

He stares at you.. hard and for a long time as you sit and sip wine casually. Like you didn’t just drop a complete bomb on him. Like you didn’t just casually confess your feelings for him like you were reciting the weather.

“The first reason again.. can you say it again..? Slower maybe?”

You turn to face him, cocking your head to one side.

“That I like you?”

“What the actual fuck ”

You frown.

“I told you you didn’t have to think about it too hard,”

“That is not the problem”

“Then what is..?”

“That I like you back! Obviously!” he snaps, frustrated. You stare at him wide-eyed before falling into giggles at his flustered and irritated expression. He gapes before shutting his mouth, dropping his head on the table with a groan.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to - fuck me ,”

You laugh again, patting his back sympathetically.

“Take your time,”

He rolls his eyes at you.

“Why am I just now learning this? Like..? Isn’t this something I should know? Since when and why?”

You laugh a little harder at his distress.

“Uh.. I don’t know? Since we first met?”

He stares at you.

“ That long? ”

You nod softly.

“Why didn’t you… why are we just finding this out?”

“Remember last night when I was talking about something being out of my reach,”

He gapes at you.

“.. You were talking about me?”

“Yeah… I might’ve just been some client to you. Your job is hard enough and I didn’t want me having feelings for you adding any pressure so I just left it alone,” ― you explain to him awkwardly ― “Too far out of my reach, you know,”

“Oh, what the fuck,”

It grows quiet for a while as Shinso sits in the strange reality that you.. like him . He tries his best to swallow the relieved lump in his throat, shaking his head of any second thoughts.

“Okay well...we don’t have time to unpack all of that right so I’m not going to,” ― he says decidedly ― “But that second part..I doubt it’s that bad. I’m an escort, I’m sure I can handle it,”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hm.. you must really wanna sleep with me huh”

He flushes.

“Gimme a break here,”

You let out another soft laugh.

“Sorry sorry, it was like.. right there. It’s not that it’s weird uh.. maybe a little.. unconventional? Even for you,”

He shakes his head.

“Highly doubt it. I’ve done it all. If it’s anything like spanking, choking, biting, hair-pulling, bondage - the whole nine yards and then some,” he explains. You hum.

“Well.. I guess it technically counts as all of that,”

“See, I told you -”

“The thing is.. I don’t really want you to do all that to me,”

He stops dead in his tracks.

“...What?”

“I uh.. don’t really sub like that. Not often, anyways. I’m into what you said - spanking, choking, biting, hair-pulling, bondage - all of that and then some but like… not for me,”

He pauses. Why is his dick doing that?

“..Oh. I see,”

You wave him off a bit.

“We don’t have to do anything like that, if you don’t want to. But that’s why I was hesitating,”

“I never said..” ― he trails off, flushing ― “I’m fine with it. I trust you I just.. don’t have experience subbing, honestly,”

Your eyes widen as a familiar heat finds you. You stare at him, trying to mask your excitement.

“We really don’t have too,”

“I want to. I’ll tell you if I want to stop so,”

You give him a soft stare before chuckling. Rising to your feet, you give him your hand for him to grab. He stumbles to stand as you drag him to the bed where he finds himself seated on the edge.

You force him down, hands on his shoulders. Wordlessly, you draw your hands up his clothed chest, stopping at his face. He rests his cheek in your palm and lets you drag your thumb across his bottom lip. Everything shifts in less than a breath, in the blink of an eye and suddenly he’s looking at you more intensely than he ever has before. The reality of having sex with you, touching you - for the first time suffocates him

“Fuck,” he swears, under his breath.

“Open your mouth, Shinso,”

You leave him there for a moment, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a swig. You slide your palms down to his neck, tilting his chin back.

He does, eyes absently tracing your face. He leans back onto his palms, mouth open. He can feel your fingers curling around the sides of his neck, pressing softly as you lean over him and spit the wine into his mouth. It’s warm from how you’ve kept it between your lips. He lets it spill, the rich liquid spilling from the corners of his lips down to his chest.

“Now swallow, yeah?”

He does, one large gulp that leaves him gasping for air with an ache between his legs he doesn’t know how to handle. His eyes flutter open and he looks at you as you pat his cheek.

“You listen well, yknow that?”

He gives you a hazy nod as you laugh, setting the bottle of wine aside again before returning to him.

“Do you know about the green light system?”

He nods. You smile.

“Can you repeat it to me?”

“Green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop,” he recites back to you. You settle your hands around his throat, humming.

“Smart and handsome, huh?”

He laughs a little at that, dropping his head forward.

“You’re gonna kill me,”

Your grin widens.

“But you’ll have fun at least,”

He can’t disagree with that. His whole body feels like it’s lit up. Fiery heat lays claim to every inch of his body, years and years of desire welled up inside him. He feels like he’ll melt at any touch. Keening, he sighs under his breath.

“It’d be nice if we got to the fun part faster,”

You raise your eyebrows, grinning.

“Someone’s bratty,”

You think he’s gonna fold but he doesn’t. He looks up at you, arms wrapped around your waist. He tugs you towards him, face buried in your torso.

“You’ll have to fix that on your own,” ― he takes a deep inhale of your perfume. You smell like sunlight ― “I’ve waited for so long, you don’t even know,”

“Are you asking me to go easy on you?” you ask, partially genuine. He shakes his head, tilting his head up to look at you.

“The opposite, actually,”

You can’t help but laugh at him again, you run your fingers through his hair - tugging it back until he’s looking at you again. You lean down this time, getting in his face.

“You should learn to be more careful, Shinso,”

“Hitoshi,” he corrects, mouth slick with a sleazy smile. You tug at his hair harder and he lets out a moan.

“You should really learn to be more careful, Hitoshi,”

“ Fuck ,”

You release him from your grasp stepping back. He can feel his heart in his ears as you stares at you with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Strip,”

“Why should I?” he challenges.

You raise a brow at him and shrug. He watches as you step out of your own clothes, how your fingers undo your blouse buttons one by one. His mouth goes dry, licking his lips as he settles on his ass to watch you undress. He watches the loose fabric fall to the floor gracefully - eyes soaking up the sight of your chest.

A pretty lace bra barely holds them from sight, he can see every single detail. His cock twitches. You don’t stop there, looping your fingers into hooks of your pants and shrugging them off. Your body is perfect - so much better to look at than he could’ve ever imagined. Every curve or stretch mark or hair sits so pretty on your skin he can barely breathe.

He’s aching to jump across and touch you but after you undress, you deposit your clothes to the back of a chair across the bed before sitting down. With your legs spread - he gets an almost perfect view of your cunt behind thin and lace fabric.

“You wanna touch me, right?”

“Y-yeah,”

“Then get naked and sit on the bed,”

He swears he sees stars. The way your voice dips, gets heavy and powerful. He nods a little, stumbles when he stands.

“What’re you gonna do?”

You grin, leaning back in your chair. You hand one hand brushing against your chest. Slender fingers rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger as the other hand smooths down your navel to sit between your legs. He feels his knees buckle as you sigh, going beneath the snap of your waist band. You draw a ragged breath in as you play with yourself and Shinso watches you like he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna watch,” ― you pant ― “Give me a good show and I’ll reward you, Hitoshi,”

Shinso is decidedly out of his element here. He’s not accustomed to this treatment, all of this attention. It’s clear you’re asking him to present yourself to him - but Shinso’s never been the one doing this. He’s normally in your shoes.

But the way your eyes drink him in, lustful and wanting, makes him want to try. So he stands and he strips, both hands grabbing either side of his shirt and slowly peeling it off of his torso. When the cool air hits the bare skin - he shivers. He rubs the back of his neck and splays his hands across his body as reaches down to his pants. He watches you while you watch him, basking in this mutual voyeurism of the act.

He feels himself get impossibly hard underneath your eyes. He takes off his pants first, tight skinny jeans that drag off his thighs and steps out of them - leaving him to only his boxers. He hesitates, embarrassed to continue, but swallows his pride. When you stop ready to question him, he starts. Slender fingers dip into his waist-band and he wiggles his hips to take them off extra slow for you.

He’s a sight to see in your eyes - his body is pale and pretty, nipples flushed against strong chest and thick thighs. He’s toned and lean, body pure sinew - with dark purple carpet to match the drapes. His cock is pretty too, not big but curved left with the tip pink. It smacks against his stomach when he takes it off. Wet with precum that drools onto his skin.

You throw your head back when you see him naked.

“Fuck, you’re pretty Hitoshi,”

He blinks at you.

“Pretty?”

You nod, still touching your clit. Still staring at him like you’re going to eat him alive. A raspy moan leaves your lips.

“Wanna see you jerk off,” ― you manage to say through a series of moans ― “Bet you look so fucking good when you do it. Sit on the bed and show me,”

This is embarrassing . Shinso is humiliated, but more than anything he’s humiliated by the way he listens . He lets himself do it. He spits into his palm unceremoniously His hand wraps around his cock, fingers around the base when he gives it a long and slow stroke. He remembers the last time he got off but he’s sure it didn’t feel like this.

He can feel it in his whole body - the tenseness in his muscles and how his chest rises but never seems to fall completely. Short, ragged breaths leaving his lips. His throat stumbles on his breaths like he can barely get them to come out. It feels so good, he can feel it everywhere. Blood pulsating under his skin - it’s hot in his veins and he strokes himself off with enthusiasm. He’s never done this before but he understands why people do.

The feeling he gets watching you watch him sends chills up his spine. The desire that lingers, connects you two like a web. You want him just as badly as he wants you and there’s proof in the way your moans mix together. Soft pants with his slow groans.

He can feel himself get close - in his throat. He throws his head back when he moans.

“G-gonna cum if I don’t stop, hngh shit ,”

You laugh at him, instead of telling him to stop - you laugh.

“You’ll stop when I tell you to stop,”― you assert, spreading your legs even wider ― “Don’t you wanna cum inside me, baby? Think that would feel better, yeah?”

“F-fuck, yeah, god,” ― he bites the inside of his cheek, slowing down as he feels it. The soft strokes make him whine ― “Want to fuck you so bad,”

“Are you close?,”

“ Please,”

“How close?”

“S-so close, gonna cum soon if I don’t - haah , shit,” ― he takes a ragged breath, slowing as best he can “Don’t stop. If I don’t - ,”

You can feel how close he is. With a breathy laugh, you sit up.

“Stop, Hitoshi,”

He gasps, immediately removing his hands. Stumbling back onto the bed, he grips the sheets trying to catch his breath. The come down is miserable, you must know. You give him a soft look of sympathy as you approach him.

“You did good,” you praise, lifting your knee and placing it beside his thigh. “Bet you’re real sensitive right now, aren’t you ‘toshi?”

“Want a reward?”

He nods. You press your pointer and index finger to his lips and watch him open his mouth. His mouth is hot and your fingers rub against his wet tongue. He closes his lips on instinct, a deep groan leaving him when he realizes. what you’re doing.

“I was gonna tie you up, y’know? With a little tie but you behaved so well for me just now. You think you’ve earned a reward?”

He looks at you with misty eyes, cock pulsing with desire. You’ve broken him down thoroughly. The empty look in his eyes and the way he sucks on your fingers. He works his tongue on each ridge on your knuckle all the back to the tips.

“What is it you wanna do, Hitoshi?” ― you ask curiously ― “Do you know?”

You pull back, watching drool drip down the sides of his mouth and down his neck. He has his hands on either side of him, fists clench. Like he can’t decide what he wants to do more.

“Wanna feel you so fucking bad,” ― he says with finality, eyes pleading ― “Please let me feel you,”

“What do you wanna feel, baby? Just wanna feel me up or you wanna feel your cock inside me..?”

He shudders.

“All of you.. god - all of you,”

“That so… think you can behave for me then? Can you be a good boy so I can give you what you want”

He nods but you shake your head, holding his face in your hands.

“Good boys have good manners,” ― you inform, staring at his eyes with adoration ― “Tell me that you’ll be a good boy for me,”

He can feel his cock twitch almost like he’ll cum untouched. The way you hold his gaze doesn’t let him look at anything but you. All he can see or smell or think is you.

“I-I’ll be... a g..good boy for you,” ― he stutters, never having said something so.. submissive. It feels awkward but you smile, grow soft so he tries again, a little firmer ― “I’ll be a good boy for you..promise”

He probably doesn’t realize himself but he gets a soft look in his eyes when you compliment him. It would make sense for him to have a praise kink but you almost feel guilty exploiting it when he doesn’t even know.

“You’re such a good boy for me aren’t you, Hitoshi? Got such a handsome face,” you’re still looking straight at him. He squirms, body doing something unfamiliar.

“W-wait,” ― he squirms, backing up a little ― “Shit.. wait it’s..

Instead of pushing him, you pull back.

“Get up on the bed baby,”

And he does, scooting back towards the headboard with his back leaning into pillows. You crawl towards him, straddling him. Both of your knees are on either side of his thigh and your bodies are pressed so closely together.

Your hands rest at the base of his throat, before sliding around to his face. He can feel your core, wet and warm - hovering just above his naked torso. You lean forward, warm breath on his lips. You smell so good to him, breath sweet with alcohol. Everything about is so attractive and his heart is racing all over again.

It’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. He lets you take the lead on it. The way your bodies meld into each other and the gentle touch of your hands. Nothing can distract him from the kiss. Your lips are so soft. They taste sour and sweet and you kiss him feverish. Each time you pull back to kiss him again, you do it a little deeper and a little longer until it aches to stop.

You kiss him with tongue, and you lead. He follows. You let it drag across his lower lip, let your teeth tug and bite wherever you please. It sets off something feverish inside of him. Shinso moans as your clothed cunt drags onto his cock slowly, the light sensation making him shiver.

Heat splinters off inside of him, something slick dragging along his cock has him choking on his breath.

You let yourself pull away from his lips, moving to pepper kiss down his jaw all the way to pale neck. He can feel the sharpness of your teeth dig into the skin, mouth lapping over the marks before sucking them into bruises. A deep purple to match the rest of him - littered from his throat all the way down to his chest as you scoot down to get a taste of the rest of him.

“You’re so cute, Hitoshi” ― you greet, hands on his waist ― “Such a pretty boy,”

He whimpers when he hears your voice.

“Is there anything you want?”

“C-can I… I wanna uhm.. eat you out, maybe? If that’s alright”

You sit back up to look at him. He looks like it took everything out of him just to ask. You give him a quick kiss on the mouth before nodding.

“How do you want me?”

“Sitting on my face, please?”

“You even know to say please huh,” ― you chuckle, moving over so he can lay back. He follows with your instruction ― “You must really want it,”

“Y-Yeah, I do,”

“Then I’ll give it to you,”

Shinso lays flat on his back and watches you from the corner of his eyes as you slide off your panties. The only word his hazy mind can think of to describe you is pretty. Your pussy is pretty too - it’s slick and rests between your thighs, clenching around nothing. Shinso watches with great interest as you make your way over to him - with one knee on one side of his head. You spread yourself right over his face and he moans.

The heat of your cunt is a welcome invitation. He really can’t think of any way to describe it other than it smells like you, hot and heavy and thick in his lungs. He reaches his hands up and wraps around your thighs, dragging you closer to him. You're facing the wall - hand on the headboard to steady yourself. The other one threading through his locks.

“Go on baby,” ― you tease, settling some of your weight until your pussy is on his tongue ― “Enjoy yourself,”

He has a catty remark somewhere in him but right now he’s too desperate to care. Wet tongue drags between your folds, burying himself in your cunt as deep as he can. His nose bumps against your clit, resting against your mound as he laps at your clit with great effort. A full body shiver runs through you and above he hears the shuffle of fabric, the unclasping of your bra as it falls to the floor.

You lean back this time, hands splayed behind you. Shinso prepares himself for what's coming by digging his fingers into your thighs a little further. He moans into, mouth sucking and slurping at your pussy as you find your pace to grind against his mouth. All the blood is rushing to his cock as he feels you. The swollen bundle of nerves pulsates on his tongue as your hips rock into an easy back and forth. You grip at his hair, throwing your head back.

“Feels so fucking good, baby,” ― you moan, voice hoarse and heavy ― “Such a good boy letting me fuck your face like this, yeah?”

He groans against your cunt at the sound. It eggs him on, stretching his tongue out so you can get the most pleasure. His cock twitches haphazardly. He can feel every clench, every ridge in his mouth. You taste so fucking nice - arousal spilling down his cheeks and chin. He can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel you.

You can feel him too. The way the pleasure builds in a steady crescendo as you continue rocking yourself on his face. Your thighs clench, muscles trembling - a bead of sweat dripping down your forehead and cheek.

“Haah, shit - gonna make me cum, gonna cum all over your pretty face baby,”

He whines into you like he wants it. When you reach your peak you almost scream, mouth fallen open as your pussy spasms. All you can see is white - pulsing white heat and sinful pleasure that leaves your breathing ragged and body rigid. It feels like falling into water, floating in it - completely weightless

You fall forward as it hits you in waves. Shinso can feel the rush of your orgasm, cum coating his tongue. He swallows it down with enthusiasm as you continue to ride out your high.

When you’ve ridden out your high, you dismount yourself from him - sitting on his chest. His face is flushed, dusted a bright pink across his nose. Saliva and cum make his skin shine in the lowlights. You scoot back then lean forward to meet his mouth in a lazy kiss. He moans, soft and easy.

“You did such a good job making me cum, Hitoshi,” ― you’re quick to praise, pressing a kiss to his nose ― “Sit up for me,”

And he does, propped up on his elbows. With a heavy mind, he sits back up like how he’d been before and watches as you crawl into his lap. His cock fucking hurts, the lack of attention making it hard for him to think straight. You place a hand on his chest and lift your ass up.

“I don’t know how long I can last,” he admits. You laugh a little.

“Don’t worry about it and enjoy yourself. Do whatever feels right,”

Shinso nods as he watches you reach between the two of you, gripping his cock and guiding it to your entrance. He’s mesmerized by it, lidded gaze staring at with such focus. As soon as the tip stretches you out, he’s a goner. It’s soft and wet and hot. An all encompassing and slick heat, like silk around his cock. His whole body falls forward in a shudder, cock pulsing. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your bare tits as you slide yourself down.

“O-ooh, fuck - please, please ”

“Feel good?,”

He’s too euphoric to get out a reply. Such great relief has him near tears, his body aching as he buries himself deep in your cunt. Even the slightest movement has him moaning, loud and shameless as the tip drags against your sensitive walls. The summery heat of your cunt has his voice trembling - his body shaking.

Taking the utmost mercy on him, you lift your hips until his cock almost slides out before slamming yourself back down. He cries out into your chest, as you ride him like your life depends on it. The constant motion - the slip of your pussy has him rutting his hips to fuck back into your rhythm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,”

You feel encouraged to egg him on with some praise, an unexpected second wave of pleasure building in your abdomen. You feel his mouth catch on one of your tits as you ride him - laughing.

“Such a good boy for me, Hitoshi. Fuck me so well, making me feel so good. You can cum inside me for being so good, f-fill me up so nice, yeah?”

He grunts.

“Fuck, yeah ,”

He gives up on trying to do anything but chase his orgasm. With a heavy grunt, he fucks himself into with little effort on his part. You let him because he sounds so desperate . Heady moans and whimpers that taper off into swears. You can feel how bad he wants it. His cock stretches you nicely but it’s how deep you can feel it that leaves you exceptionally hazy. You let him fuck into you with a smile.

Your own orgasm hits you a second time and you gasp, then laugh a little at just how good he’s making you feel. You can’t help but think you should’ve done this forever ago as a lazy orgasm has you shiver, pussy gripping Shinso like you never want him to leave.

You take your face in his hand and watch him drool all over your palms. He really is beautiful. His lower lip tucked between teeth, voice brokenly moaning as he approaches his own orgasm.

“Gonna cum for me, handsome? Makin’ such a pretty face. Wanna feel your cum deep inside, okay? Can you do that?”

“Y-yeah, hnggh yeah - please, please”

“Cum for me, Hitoshi. Be a good boy and cum for me,”

With one last thrust, Shinso throws his head back and cums so hard he sees stars in his vision. He can hear your voice distantly as his body spasms and releases all that he’s been holding in for so long. A sob hiccups in his chest as he rides his high out, pouring thick and hot loads of cum inside of you with fervor. He’s beautiful for you, really.

“Good boy, Hitoshi,” you coo, soft as he cries into your chest “Such a good boy f’r me,”

After a particularly long session of holding each other post orgasm, you’ve managed to drag Shinso into the bathroom. He’s exhausted and you’re not that surprised. Even resting in the warm, floral scented water - he’s not so much as spoken a word. He’s got his arms wrapped around you, face buried in your shoulders.

The ambience is nice. He finally got to use the couples bath items - candles lit with rose petals dancing in the hotel bathroom. It’s romantic, he has to admit. It makes Shinso think long and hard.

His voice is raspy after he speaks for the first time. It catches you by surprise but it’s soft and gentle.

“So.. you like me,” ― he starts, drawing his arms even tighter around your middle ― “...And I uh.. I like you back so. What does that…?,”

You chuckle at him, leaning your head back to look at him before smiling.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it too,” ― you say first, before flushing. It’s the first time in the evening you find yourself flustered ― “But I’d like to take care of you.. financially and otherwise,”

He blinks a little, blushing.

“W-would that.. like would that make me your.. uhm? Boyfriend or whatever,”

You register what he says before breaking out into another set of full-blown giggles. No matter how smart of how witty Shinso may be, he still manages to make your heart flutter with how cute he is. You nod.

“Yes, that would make you my boyfriend. And sugar baby, technically,” ― you explain to him, wrapping your hands around his. ― “We can work out the details in the morning,”

He’s quiet for a while before nuzzling into you closer.

“Cool,”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling.

“...Cool?”

He nods and smiles too. That's all he could ever ask to be.

“Cool,”

#prettyboy.thirsts #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #shinsou x y/n #shinso x reader #shinsou x you #shinso x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #formal #writing tag #bnha smut #shinso smut

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

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Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

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tu-sugar-mami · 3 years

Text

Tales of the side of the road: Day #1)

You're an overworked, sleep deprived, tired barista at a pretty strange coffee shop. You don't really complain, since the payment is good and you have a lot of free time, with the shop being pretty much empty and customers walking in only once in a while. The place is big, well equipped, somehow there's wifi, and you love doing what you do even if sometimes you wish you could go home. You could say the building is placed in the middle of nowhere, in a road connecting two barely populated and pretty hidden towns. The only other building anywhere in a few miles is the convenience store, an old and beaten up OxxO across the street, the cashier doesn't speak much though.

The owner is a bit... how to say it? Cryptic, to put it slightly, but that doesn't bother you at all, you barely see them, and now that you think of it perhaps the only time you spoke to them is when you were hired.

You've seen your fair share of weird stuff in three years of working here, and you even made friends with the local cult, although with a rocky start when they tried to sacrifice you to their deity. It turned out for the best, since you gained regulars that always came in with the freshest gossip. And yes, you may have gotten a small curse because of the first encounter, but hey, being occasionally possessed by a dark goddess do come handy when one of the diverse side effects is super strength and you have to lift heavy boxes of ingredients for the drinks. Because, let me tell you, the drinks you make are not regular stuff.

You specialize in a very complex form of beverages, with basic color code names, but with a flawless, delicious, magnificent taste. At least to those who are meant for.

You see, customers here are very unique, and many have tried to eat you several times before you made it clear that you were not on the menu. They learned to not underestimate your skills manouvering a broom.

Anyway, today is a specially slow day. Not even Gary —a cultist of the highest ranks, who loves his double shot 'blue' coffee— has passed by yet and you can't help but wonder what or who held him back. Though your inquiry doesn't last long, when you hear voices outside and the approach of hurried steps.

It's almost nightfall and it starts to get chilly when you get ready for yet another endless night shift. You find it odd that other people aside from Gary would swing by the shop at this hour, but well, it is your job to serve them after all, and so you tighten your apron and ready your notepad.

Like i've said before you've seen a lot of not so ordinary stuff, and when an uncommonly tall —and absolutely gorgeous— lady along with three younger, shorter women wearing at least 10 layers of cozy clothes walk in you're absolutely unfazed and instead welcome them with the brightest smile you can muster.

"Hi! Welcome to Itsy Bitchy Spider, home of the best coffee in all 24 miles around. What can i get for you today?" You say, bringing the women's attention to you.

The tall lady seems a little thrown off by your warm welcoming. Or by the weird name of the franchise, or perhaps because she wasn't expecting a fragile-looking human to be behind the counter, who knows, but she usher one of the younger girls —a brunette one, who wears a creepy but charming smile peeking from under a thick scarf— towards the counter and clears her throat. "Hello, yes, my daughter got into a little bit of a situation earlier and she has to clean herself up. We're on our way to a very important meeting and she has to be presentable."

It's only now when you notice that said daughter has bloodied clothes, and when she lifts her head you can see that there's blood dripping from her chin too. But again, not the weirdest.

"Sure ma'am," You say with a smile, wich has her giving you a curious look. "the bathroom is on that black door over there." You point and the girl goes on her way, almost skipping. Kind of adorable, you think, like a small child would be, except much older and dangerous. "So, is the cult holding a meeting? That'd explain why Gary hasn't come by." You say casually. The woman is about to answer when another uh, you suppose is a daughter too, suddenly points at the pastries countertop.

"What's that?" A redhead girl asks. She looks excited and genuinely curious about a colorful piece of a cake. You don't make them, and honestly you don't want to know what's in them, but you know they're suitable for any kind of customer that walks in, so you pull out a piece and arrange it on a plate, decorating it with red syrup, the red syrup.

"Try it, it's on the house." You wink at her while sliding the plate towards her and she looks at you like you just handed her a priceless jewel.

"Really?" She says, but is more a formality since she's already pulling the plate closer. "Look Bela! Look what i got!"

"No, Daniela you shouldn't eat that. Your tummy will hurt, you know this." The tall lady says as she grabs the plate and pull it out of Daniela's grasp, which is easy given her height. "We're sorry, but we can't take this. We have a very strict diet." She hands the plate back to you.

You smile and gently take the plate away, aware of the sad puppy eyes the redhead is giving you. You discreetly, almost as if it wasn't your intention, you put the plate within her reach and keep talking. You pretend not to notice when the girl sneakily grabs the plate and runs back to her sister to share her prize.

"Ma'am, i assure you it is perfectly safe. You're not from around here, are you? Well, let me get you acquainted with the place." Not wasting any time you quickly prepare a concoction of 'red' coffee and top it with regular whipped cream while the lady's gaze is fixed on every move. "Here, try this."

"Try what?" The dark haired girl has returned from the bathroom all freshened up and looks curiously to the tall glass you slide on the counter. "Oooh, that looks nice!"

"It is nice. It's one of the house's specials. We call it 'red coffee' though it's up to you discover if you like it."

"Cassandra, i don't think we should..." The lady seems hesitant, but when you rise the glass as close as you can to her face and she takes a whiff you can clearly see her pupils dilate. "What... is that?" She asks, breathless, as if she's just found something she craved for so long and didn't even know it.

You smirk, knowing that you guessed correctly about what would work on her. "Why don't you take a sip and find out?"

"Mother, i think you should give it a try." The blonde girl, the one who hadn't said a word since she first entered says. You notice that there's some cake frosting right on the corner of her smiling lips.

"Perhaps i should listen to you, Bela. Let's see, shall we?" The mother takes the glass from your hand, tiny in comparasion to hers, and she guides the brim of the cup to her red lips. She cautiously takes a sip and as soon as the liquid touches her tongue and she tastes, the drink is downed in seconds.

"So, what's the veredict? You like it?" You say as you put the lid on the last of another three cups of the same drink that you finished making while the cup on the lady's hand was being emptied, ready to hand over to the girls.

"It's exquisite..." She says, and you can see the awe on her face. "How?"

"Well, that's a secret, isn't it? You can come by whenever you like, we're open all day, every day." You look behind the four women and spot a grumpy looking man wearing sunglasses and a hat just outside in the parking lot. Odd when there's no sunlight to protect his eyes from, but you don't judge. "Looks like someone is looking for you." You point past them to the guy.

And sure enough:

"Alcina! Where the fuck are you? Miranda is waiting for us, we're late!"

The annoyed expression on the lady's —Alcina, now you know— face almost make you laugh, but you don't want to be disrespectful and instead you just cough a little. "Looks like we have to part ways." She says, putting the glass on the counter delicately. Her eyes are glued to your own and you can see fire in them. "For now."

The lady turns around and walks away with determination and elegance in her stride and behind her the daughters follow with the grace of young gazelles. One of them, the blonde girl turns her head enough to see you over her shoulder and waves goodbye. You wave back.

"Have a safe trip!" You say. Much, much later you'll call this 'day one', when Alcina first entered your life, but for now:

Alcina... The name feels sweet like honey in your mouth and you smile. You can't wait to see her again.

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@thejennystuttle here it is the first one i finished. I got carried away, srry. Hope u like it?

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If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #my fic #lady d #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina x reader

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softmary · 3 years

Text

You know what? I'm also posting my headcanons on slashers:

- Tiffany Valentine: bisexual icon™, ultimate mom, very supportive and 10/10 person if we don't pay attention to her murderous tendences.

- Chucky: homophobic bastard. Literally murdered his child and wife, but he is funny and comes back as a chick to make out with Tiff so we forgive him.

- Freddy Krueger: not even Satan wants him. Homophobic, sexist, racist and ableist. He bullies my sweet baby Jason, of course I hate him.

- Jason Voorhees & Bubba Sawyer: definition of pure, innocent bab (again, don't mind the whole murdering ordeal) very good and special bois who deserve all the kisses and cuddles. They love animals and mother nature and they love them back.

- Thomas Hewitt: he is a quiet tsundere but is surprisingly sweet if treated with love and care. Basically be nice to him, you selfish fvck.

- Michael Myers: angery 24/7. Easely pissed off. You really don't want to get on his bad side (even more). A brat. He wants something? He takes it. Not homophobic nor an ally. He hates everyone just the same.

- Pennywise (2017): feral baby. Surprisingly short-tempered and can be very bratty. Like Michael, he doesn't cares about what you like, after all food is food.

- Pennywise (1990): lied back gramps. Very chill, loves to smoke and drink. Often scolded my Penny for his unhealthy habits. An old goof with a messed up sense of humor.

- Ghostface: an absolute crackhead who is responsible for the ungodly high phone bills. Pranks everyone and anyone (original, I know) He is that oldass man who thinks he is 15 and pulls the "What's up, my diggity dogs?" phrases in hopes of seeming like a fellow teenager. He should get an actual job since he is an adult but he is in denial.

- Brahms Heelshire: homophobic homosexual. Literally lives within the walls which is the equivalent of being closeted. Hates water and soap, veggies and is very smort. Too good at looking innocent when he is nasty. He is so thristy he doesn't finds fangirls scary. The definition of simp. Would definetely buy gamer girl bath water.

- Vincent Sinclair: another introverted tsundere. Much like Tommie, he'll be nice if you are patient with him, but it takes WAY more work to convince him not to kill you since making wax figures out of people is his passion. He is a misunderstood artist, leave him alone.

- Bo Sinclair: extroverted tsundere, homophobic homosexual and a bottom as much as he hates to admit it (that's why he doesn't) lowkey into masochism. Needs therapy, a slap across the face and a hug all at once.

- Lester Sinclair: stinky possum man who unironically eats garbage. A feral forest goblin who collects literally anything to bring it to his nest (AKA his truck) Criminally underrated.

- Chromeskull: a fine gentleman. A sugar daddy, as some may put it (@thomashewittispacking I'm looking at u) respects women unlike some mozzarella looking ass bastard.

- Carrie White: literally my spirit animal. She is so nice I want to show her my seashell collection and have a picnic with her. She didn't deserve anything that happened to her and deserves all the hugs in the world.

- Slappy: I don't even know if this funky doll counts as a slasher but I loved his movie and so I get to add him. A gæ puppet mastermind who has a way too big ego for such a small body. He is too cool for everyone.

- Yautjas: this applies to every single one of them. They are giant hairless space cats who become very touchy once shown affection. At first they are very reluctant, but little by little your mate will warm up to you and have you sit on his lap when he is done with his responsabilities. He will praise you by patting your head or shoulder and is very possessive of you.

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

questioning {natasha romanoff x wlw reader}

summary: natasha had always been able to appreciate women. once she meets you, it becomes clear why {for @stephanieromanoff - for some reason i can’t answer your ask but i hope u enjoy this}

warnings; probably swearing?? and mentions of the usual mcu canon typical violence

this is actually my first natasha imagine on this blog which is...wild. because - and i’m sure many people relate - she was my bisexual awakening and i still would let her top me. enjoyy!

-jazz

Sexuality was fluid - Natasha knew that.

She’d just never considered her sexuality to be fluid.

It was funny, really. Natasha had witnessed many forms of beauty in her time as a SHIELD agent; beautiful men, beautiful women, beautiful people. She could appreciate a good-looking human when she saw one but it never extended beyond admiration. Most of her Red Room training had been centred around seducing men. Her friends had always set her up with men. It wasn’t so much that she’d rejected the idea of anything other than heterosexuality but she’d always just kind of...assumed.

Besides, it wasn’t like Natasha’d ever even been in a position where she’d been close enough to a woman (or anyone, for that matter) to ever consider them in a romantic way. Her job didn’t allow for it - not unless the person she was with was also in her line of work. And, with all due respect to her colleagues, she knew them far, far too well to ever consider the notion of dating one of them.

Life has a funny way of working out though, doesn’t it?

You were dropped into Natasha’s lap when she least expected it. It was a cold, rainy Monday afternoon and she was in the staff room at the Compound with Steve. They were sat in comfortable silence, scrolling through their phones. The peace was disrupted by the sound of a crash, followed by a string of curse words.

‘What the...’ Steve stood up, approaching the hallway outside.

That was the first Nat saw you: with coffee halt spilt down yourself, your bag strewn across the floor and cheeks bright red. It was quite on brand, really.

‘I am so sorry!’ You dropped to your knees, quickly scrambling to pick the papers up. ‘I was too busy trying to find my office and I went straight into the door frame.’

The first thing Natasha noted was that you were pretty. Not pretty like the girls she’d seen in windows in Amsterdam, or pretty like the slender models she’d seen in London. You were...sparky. Talkative, and bright. There was an energy about you that she was yet to see in anyone else.

You were terrifying too. Not a single person at SHIELD had witnessed someone telling a dad joke whilst throttling a man twice their size, but there was a first time for everything.

At first, Natasha was convinced that her feelings towards you were simply admiration...for a friend. Because you were friends, right? It was hard not to become close to someone when you spent every second of every day with them. She never thought much of it, though - you were also close with Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky. Nothing about your relationship with Nat was different from your others.

There were a few notable exceptions on her part. She could tolerate you more than anyone else - and that was just the way she worded it in her head, to convince herself that it didn’t mean anything. In actuality, she found herself seeking you out, trying to spend to time with you. She’d do paperwork in your office until the small hours of the morning, and she’d bring you coffee when you both returned to work a few hours later. Natasha had never had a best friend before and it felt good.

‘Do you ever think about relationships in our line of work?’

You looked up from your paperwork, glancing over at Nat. She was sat across from you at your desk, the dim glow of your spotlight illuminating her face. It wasn’t unusual for her to bring up deep subjects when it was late (in this, case it was 1AM). You ponded for a moment, tapping your pen against the edge of your desk.

‘Sometimes.’ You said. ‘I mean...I wasn’t an Avenger until five months ago, give or take. If I did get into one now, I imagine it would be much more complicated than when I was normal.’

‘You are normal.’ Nat reached across the desk to whack your shoulder, smiling to herself. ‘At least by Avenger standards.’

You chuckled. ‘Honestly, I barely have time to think about relationships now, let alone get into one. My ex-girlfriend asked me if I wanted to grab a coffee and the earliest date I could do was in four months.’

That was the first time Natasha realised that whatever chemistry and easiness was between you, it could have been something more than friends. The sound of the word girlfriend coming out your mouth? It...well, it made her mind go places. No-where drastic, or revealing. It just made her think; the idea of you casually referring to her as your girlfriend in conversation gave her butterflies.

And Natasha Romanoff did not get butterflies. At least not until now. Not until you.

‘How did you know that you liked girls?’ She asked. It was a casual question - one you’d been asked plenty of times.

‘I just knew.’ You shrugged. ‘It’s not the same for everyone, though. Sometimes it takes meeting the right person.’

That was the statement that got Natasha thinking. She’d never even considered the idea of liking girls, not until you’d come along.

She couldn’t help but let herself day dream - it was a guilty please, in a sense. What would life be like if you were together? What would it be like to call you her girlfriend? To live with you? Natasha was so vehemently against the idea of domesticity...but with you? Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. She didn’t even realise how (for lack of a better word) gay her thoughts were. And when she did? It hit her like a train.

Natasha had dealt with a lot in her life - aliens, nazis, gods, genocidal robots, evil super spies. It made the situation seem so mundane; she’d become so exceptionally aware of her mortality that things like questioning her sexuality or pondering on her attraction for her best friend just seemed like a waste of time. She’d always been fearless, after all. It had kind of been forced into her nature at the Red Room, and even more so after becoming an Avenger.

It was during another late night conversation that Nat realised her feelings might have been deeper than she realised. She knew that she liked you in a way that ran far deeper than just being best friends; it was just the extent that she was unsure of, and she didn’t want to make a move until she understood it properly. It was like being on a mission really: do some recon, get a better gauge of what’s going on and make a move.

She hadn’t expected it - it had been nine words. One completely casual sentence. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a conversation.

‘I saw a TikTok that reminded me of you.’

It was in that moment that Natasha realised, whilst staring at you across your desk with wide-eyes, that she was in love with you. It was a brand new (and not entirely surprising) discovery but it didn’t feel like a shock. The feelings had always been there - it was just the sudden comprehension of them that came as a revelation.

It didn’t have to be complicated. Missions to Russia to take out HYDRA bases were complicated. Teaching Steve and Bucky how to use an iPhone was complicated. This was....well, it was simple, wasn’t it? She loved you. And maybe, just maybe, you loved her too.

Aside from the fact you were just friends, you might as well have been a couple already. You ordered take out together every night and ate it together on the sofa. You drove to work together, and you had a thousand and one inside jokes. The foundations were there but neither of you had ever been all that good at architecture.

‘It reminded you of me?’ Natasha quickly regained her posture, offering you her signature smirk. ‘I didn’t realise you thought of me outside of work.’

‘Nat.’ You snorted. ‘We hang out after work every night.’

‘I know, I just...’ She trailed off.

‘You just what?’

‘We should get dinner tonight.’ Nat cleared her throat.

‘Wasn’t that the plan?’ You raised an eyebrow at her.

‘No, I mean...dinner.’ She sat up a little straighter (ironic). ‘Like a date.’

‘Are you asking me out?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘I...’ it was your turn to be a little speechless. ‘Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.’

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha x reader #natasha imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers fluff #avengers smut #avenegers preferences #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fluff

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hitoshisbabygirl · 3 years

Text

Author's Notes ♡:Sooooo I wrote this once with no mythological background and it was so blank because one I half read and two it had no pizzazz. So here I am...enjoying this collab wholeheartedly. For some context the readers dad is Dionysus, yknow the festive, wine maker? So I tried to incorporate that with being a potions maker! Rappa is based on a mix between Behemoths and the Kusarikku, so i wanted him just a big and a bull man hybrid but not fully a Minotaur! I hope whoever reads this enjoy it as much as I did writing it! (Also I’m slowly realizing how much I hope this man)~ bunny ❥

Here’s the lovely masterlist of the others beautiful arts!

Warnings : NSFW again! (◎_◎;)

A use of pet names l, uh some heavy size kink (if you know who I based him on, also is one of my kinks showing yet) , Needy Rappa, breeding, Light cursing, a bit of a pussy job, female oral and a bit of overstimulation.

Word count : About 6.5k (ooof) !

Paring(s) : Bullman! Kendo Rappa x F!Reader

Summary : Being a demigod had perks, you could travel, you had god and goddesses as siblings and family members and of course the power! But what happens when you have to help a stubborn farm...pet?

Enjoy ♡

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Growing up as a demigods daughter who owned a garden on earth was one experience. All types of people, gods, goddesses and hybrids needed her experience with all sorts of plants and other things from nature ; rather it be for healing medicines , a bouquet for an upset lover or for help with livestock growth, [ ] and her parents helped with every little working class they could. As [ ] went from child to young adult she was used to her fair share of men from every place asking for her attention. A human asking for her hand and giving her the bare minimum, a god, wanting to make her a goddess, or just simply flirting to warrant her attention. But alas to them all she gave them no leadway, keeping her same polite smile and overall sweetness to each and every person she dealt with. On a warm day in the heavens as she walked the sky castles grounds she ran into a farmhand, one she remembered worked for Demeter approached her hesitantly, his eyes wandering to the young maidens “U-uh M-miss [ ] right?” The male asked her , her eyebrow raising as a silent answer “Lady Demeter would like to speak with you, she need some help but she did not tell me exactly what” he said with a bow and soon turned to leave. Wondering what the goddess could want she headed to her ranch, watching the cattle and other animals graze. Suddenly the door swung wide, revealing the deity to her “[ ] my favorite niece how are you love!” The tall woman sing songingly yelled, hugging the wide eyed girl “Hello Auntie Dem, im quite alright! Uhm, what seems to be the problem? One of your hands came to get me” [ ] said as she took in the ranch home her harvesting aunt had, all sorts of gains, wheats, fruits and more spewed about in her living room “Ah yes! Your father told me how great youve become with your potions and mixes of herbs, being the daughter of Dionysus im not surprised! I told him to let you grow and do more now look at you, serving us gods and mortals alike!” Demeter went on, handing her confused niece a large apple as she took one for herself. Becoming her to a table by the window they both sat, eating on their fruit as she explained her issue.

“You see, i have a lot of cattle, different kinds, different kins and legacies, but im a bit stuck. My favorite mare, had a child a little while ago and he seemed to just be your average bull at first….but..as time went on he out grew his father, my prized minotaur bull and even his normal cow and bull family.” Taking a glance to the field they watched as the minotaur children and some sheep danced and played, other average cow cults running to join. Sighing Demeter continued “Hes a hybrid, my prized minotaur as his father and well, my biggest and prized heifer as his mother. He wont come out of the shed, doesnt deal with his other kind, minotaur or not. Hes around your age now, getting to be his prime but..he wont converse in the fields. Both his father and mother voiced concerns to me about his health but when i checked on him, hes fine! Fields away under a sun and away from my younger and ready cows! I dont get it! Maybe because hes more human than he is bull, he does have a human face and even body, just taht everything below is...well bull. Tail, those wonderful breeding-” “Auntie!” Before she could finish [ ] was hushing the woman, waving her arms “I get it i get it Bull bottom human top i dont need to hear about his loins!” She pleaded.

Laughing, the goddess reached to a pile of hay, whistling to feed some of the nearby cows “Ah you silly girl, I was only gloating about my finest bull yet! I even tried bringing him mortals but...he crushed them, saying they were too small. Every single one! Younger older it didnt matter, he wanted nothing to do with them and just squashed them like a bug under his hoofs! I'm at my wits end, Im not sure what he needs, and hes so large i cant just let him walk around the palace place, he intimidates the clerks and huffs when talked to!” Dramatically laying against the table she looked to the thinking girl, her eyes shining with an idea “Hey auntie, how about you take me to him, i can see if hes loss any weight or seems sickly anywhere. Where do you think hed be at this time?” [ ] asked “Ah you brave girl, what time is it, almost high noon? He might be in the field but its the one with my giant tree that he likes” Demeter responded, pointing to a large tree up a few fields with nothing much around it but luhs grass. “Doesnt even matter if i put up a fence, he walks on two legs so he just hops over it” She sighed again as the duo headed outside.

Seeing a tall minotaur coming towards them [ ] stopped along Demeter, her goddess aunt speaking “Ah Milvor, how are you and Altine?” “Lady Demeter and I'm guessing this is [ ], we are fine. The misses is in the field now, seeing if she can see our boy” He said. Realizing that this was the after for her case [ ] spoke up “Uhm sir have you noticed anything amiss with er-” “Kendo, his name is Kendo” The Minatour said “Ah yes with Kendo, anything seem to be hurt or missing from his way of life” She asked. “Well..not particularly. Hes always fought some of the other males here so bruises and marks are a common thing we see from him. Besides a broken horn he doesn't have anything major going on. Just that he refuses to be around anyone here. Even us at times when were out with the others” He said solemnly , looking at the girl. Grabbing her hands he pleaded “Please, help our son? I know he can be rude and dismissive but down there our sweet boy is in there, were worried sick about him” Milvor said, a sad moo coming from his approaching wife “Miss i do appreciate you checking on him, I just hope he'd be home soon” A half cow women spoke , coming beside this Kendo’s father “Well i'll do my best, it doesnt sound like hes too hurt or anything serious so i'll make sure to try and get him to be with you both” Giving a reassuring smile [ ] started off, heading to the tree at the top of them hill. Just before she got far Demeter called to her, handing her sweet wheat “Heres some of his snack, he sometimes will come back if we offer him more” She said. Taking the wheat and putting it in the side of her flowing peplos. Soon with enough treading uphill , she got close to the tree , soon seeing a tail swish from in front of the tree. Hesitantly she walked forward before seeing hooved legs, also covered in black fur, pop out from the tree. Placing a hand at the side that had no person on it she peeked over to in fact , find a rather giant back in the sun, small flecks of freckles on the toned skin. Holding her gift closer she walked to the male before hearing a snort “ ‘M tellin’ ya Elinor I dont want nothin’ to do with ya, go on, go back to the heard” A rough and deep voice said, a larger hand coming up to wave off whoever was behind him. Feeling a bit bad for this mysterious Elinor and offended, she was brushed off [ ] walked closer , standing at the ends of his legs until the male growled. “I told ya to-'' Stopping himself from yelling once he turned around he was surprised to find not hybrid named Elinor but in fact the small [ ] her eyes widening as amber ones looked down “Yer not Elinor” He said as [ ] giggled “And im guessing youre Kendo” She said as the bull sat up, cruising his legs and the curious woman in front of her. “Whos askin?”

He huffed as [ ] looked at him as she did the same , sitting across from the hybrid “A…. doctor of sorts. Your parents, along with Goddess Demeter asked me to come check on you, see how youre doing” she said as he huffed again “ ‘M fine, now why did they send you” He said as he watched her pull things out, paper , a quill, ink and is that..? Pointing to the bustle of wheat he called out “Is that… for me?” Blinking [ ] looked at the almost childish Kendo, smiling as she untied the snack “It is for you, I heard you liked it. Brought it in the hopes youd talk to me?” She questioned, holding a piece out for him to take. Hesitantly he did, gnawing at it as he hummed in delight, his tail swishing. “ So uhm… Doc what do want to know” He asked, watching as the smaller girl touched his chest and arms, squeezing lightly as she wrote down different things “If ya wanted to touch me ya shouldve asked” He teased, taking his own hand to her face. Felling he face warm up she moved back, poking him with a finger “Now now be good im just seing if youre injured. Besides that horn, do you have anything broken or doenst feel well?” She asked as she waved a pisces of wheat, making him focus. “Nah, im as fit as a fiddle” Side eyeing his response she still gave him a piece , hearing him hum in delight as she wrote more notes.

“So no injuries, no pain , nothing?” shaking his head he continued to eat , taking some pieces from her bundle as she reached for the uneatten pieces “Hey! No you get these as a reward for answering me not to eat at your leisure!” She scolded. Reaching as far as she could she grabbed at his hand before he lifted them higher, smirking “Well miss doc i want what i want, and I want my snack” He said before she grabbed his arm, poking a manicured nail at it hand “Well Kendo ill let you have it if you tell me whats wrong, without covering it up deal?” Feeling him flinch at her poking she did it again until he moved away , glaring at her through his bangs that hung low “Fine! Stop poking me though, ya nails hurt! And theres nothing wrong, i just dont like ‘em cows! They stink!” He said as he knelt closer, moving her from his arm. “They stink? How old are you 5? Why do they stink!” [ ] huffed back as he chewed more of his treat, looking to the flustered girl “Im 22 in human years little girl , and like i said they stink! Reeks like open sores and meat” He said as he kept eating , laying in the sun. Thinking over his words it dawned in her what he could be talking about “And what do i smell like Kendo?” [ ] asked, catching the half bull off guard “I dunno, you dont stink, Neither does lady Dem” He said as he turned to her. Leaning over she gave him a piece of wheat again but this time, pushing herself a bit forward, watching as his body shook before he took the piece , eating it. “Well Kendo, my name is [ ] and ill be checking on you moreoften okay? I need to run down to the house but ill be back if that's okay with you?” Silently he shook his head, watching her run off as he opened his still crossed legs, feeling himself unsleeth as he groaned ‘Shit...now why am I gettin turned on’ he thought to himself, rubbing away what he could before the girl came back

As soon as she got to the farm she was met with the eyes of the worrying three, the first to speak being his mother Altine “Oh! [ ] youre back!” She said, the bell on her neck dangling as she ran to the fence “How is my boy? Kendo is he alright?” she asked as Demeter and Milvor came soon after for the report “Well maam i can confirm he is healthy, not is wrong with him the only thing is..” [ ] hesitated as she looked at them “He might have a heat approaching, is this his first one by any chance?” SHe asked as they all looked at eachother, Demeter speaking up “Well not exactly, this is why I kept bringing mortals up here, he wouldnt mate with the cows, and even other hybrids! Nothing! Hed turn his nose up at them all and go back to that field. He actually broke that horn of his fighting a bull from a neighboring farm who wanted to cow that was trying to get his attention” Demeter said, sigh as she saw her nieces blank face , afraid she overwhelmed her “Its alright if you dont think hes fixable [ ] i can-” “No hes fine. I can help him, and i think it wont be that hard either” [ ] said, giving the group a smile. “Watch him for a few days for me , im gonna go back up there with him, see how he is then come back in a few days with some of my things, ill stay here as long as need be to help your son” She said as she gave them all a smile, going inside to get her something to eat. Soon she hear her aunt appear, shuffling about to give her a basket to put her things in “Here, Im so gald helping him is a easy fix” She said sighing happily as she continued “I know he should mate on his own time, but im more concerned for his heath of it all, he doesnt even release into anyone or even by himself” Glancing towards her auntie she took in a breath before saying something “Well, i know it has to be bad now, he even said the er, cow women here stink, so their hormone have to be covered with other bulls or maybe he genuinely doesnt see appeal with them” [ ] said. Thinking it over Demeter gave her an almost alarming look “Well if thats the case just as you arrived he asked me what i was cooking, that something smelt good. I told him I didnt have anything and he just retreated back to his part of the barn before leaving for the field again.” Slowly [ ] realized she might be in for more than she imagines but brushed it off. “Interesting..” She said as she took her full basket “I have an idea, im gonna see if his heat hits its peaking times in a few days, I do plan on staying here if youd have me here?” She asked as a delighted look spread across Demeter’s face “Of course dear child! I missed having you around! Your Father was bad at bringing you over, him and his festivals” Demeter huffed before she poked her nieces cheek “Besides! We can have a girls night, or well er, weeks depending!” She said as the laughed together “Well it's a deal!”

Heading back up the hill she saw that Kendo had moved, facing a running river as he sast in the sun once more, looking content. [ ] smirked to herself before grabbing some of the things she had ; a brush, a lavish soap and a towel. Heading to where the behemoth of a hybrid laid she noticed his ear twitched, before he opened an eye to look back at her. “Hey Doc, ya back.” He said as she gave him a smile, sitting beside his head “Why yes I am. You seem to be enjoying yourself” She teased as he smirked, turning to face her. “Well i do enjoy the sun, keeps me warm nd my hair soft.” Looking him over again she noticed that his hair was always up in a bun but his bangs covering his eyes, a different hue of color, more of a rustic red than his black furred legs. “Well about that...Im gonna give you a bath!” the giant bull flinched at her words, seeing the happy look gracing her face “Oi now look, ‘m fine i dont need no bath” He argued as she pouted “Why sure you do! I know you dont go when the others get theirs, and if that bun of yours is any indication, you need to wash all of that dirt and grime off. Now let me help you” She barked back, pointing the soft looking brush towards his face. He stood up, now overthrowing the girls height as he pointed a finger at her “Now look, I like being this way, it keeps those girls offa me if you clean me now they wont leave me alone!” [ ] sighe before stepping closer, pointing her own small hand at his face, moving closer “Now you listen to me Kendo, I have things to help keep them off of you, this is for your own health! I can leave you here, dirty but your hair and fur is gonna get so matted theyll have to shave you!”

At hearing a potential that hed be shave Kendo flinched, moving his bangs so his soft eyes could meet her determined ones “Theyll shave me? Ion wanna be like the sheep” he said she she gave him a satisfied look. “Well go into the water then and ill make sure you wont!” Reluctantly he sighed, walking into the river as she followed behind, pinning her longer robe so it wouldnt get too wet as she sat at the side of the river. Holding a hand out she waved him closer, the male coming to her as she undid his hair. To her utter surprise it fell down his shoulders, stopping just short of his waist. Gently she pushed his bangs back to see his pretty amberish eyes looking up to her [ ]’ed ones. He had a typical Bull hook through his nose , the gold shining in the warm sun. He was quite handsome, sun kissed skin and a clear face, broad shoulders and a nice body. Even with his mostly human body his horns, tail and ears were bull, on top of his legs and...neithers , that were covered in fur. Softly she traced a scar under his eye, the wound slightly tender as he jumped from the touch. Going to her wrist she tied a string to hold his long bangs up, a giggle falling from her lips as he almost looked like a younger child getting a bath “What're you lookin at me like that for” He huffed as she laughed more, pushing his face together “You look like an upset child is all. Now go ahead and dip in the water for me , ill scrub you after.” Listening to her, Kendo dropped watching as some of the debris and dirt washed off around him as he stood up, shaking his hair “Good enough?” He asked as she shook her head, pouring some of the sopa on the brush as she started to was his chest,making sure to scrub him as clean as she could from land. Sensing her struggle he reached to her, lifting her over his body as she squealed “Sorry, you were just strugglin so i thought i'd help you” Kendo said as [ ] hesitantly started to wash as much as she could, tapping his arm anytime she needed to move. Being up there did help, she was able to was his horns and his hair, revealing the rust orange and copper hair underneath. Surprised she ran her finger though it, giving him a shy smile. “See dont you feel a bit better?” She asked as he shyly nodded, noticing how her clothes clinged to her chest. He reached to put her back on land, coming out of the water himself as he allowed her to scrb his legs and hoofs, the dull black fur coming to life as he watched in awe. She didnt mind helping him, still came to bother him when he said he didnt want help and now she was bathing him. Kendo mulled over how helpful she was, and realized she was more comforting than most. After scrubbing his hoofs shiny she tapped his legs, signaling she was done.

“All right! Now that youre all clean and such Ill make sure you stay this way okay Kendo?” [ ] said as she went back to the basket, pulling out two apples. The bull in question watched as she came back to him, handing him the other one “Here ya go! Thought you could use something sweet” kendo took the apple from the girl, before biting into it, thanking hier softly as they sat in silence. Soon [ ] spoke up, breaking their silet aurora “So...ill be around here the next few days or so, ill probably stay longer, giving how nice it is” She laughed, looking at the curious male beside her “Dont be afraid to ask me for anything okay? Im here to help you” With that Kendo nodded, going back to the apple. Quietly Kendo touched her arm, making [ ] look to him as an unfamiliar look went over his face. Gently herself, [ ] put her hand on his, shaking her head as a signal for him to talk. “Would you mind...pettin me?” he asked before [ ]’s eyes went wide. Now feeling a bit more embarrassed he spoke up again “I have problems going to sleep, ‘ts why i like it out here in the sun, its warm , nd comforting…” Pausing he continued after he got his words together. “You do the same thing like the sun. Youre warm...comforting.. And make me feel sleepy...so if you pet me...ill be comforted to sleep..its what my mama did, but im too big to be in her lap” With that kendo finished, glancing to the girl who gave him a soft look “Of course i can! I have to get pick some more clothes up but once i get back, I can stay with you out here.” Shaking his head Kendo looked back to the river “Ya dont have to sleep outside with me just...put me to sleep” Unable to stop herself [ ] hugged his arm, looking at him through her lashes “Oh cmon you big baby, I dont mind it! Havent slept under the stars since i was a kid!” Brushing off her dress she ran a hand though his thick locs of hair, giving him another warm hug “Ill be back before sundown, now you be good” And with that he watched as his new found friend walked down the hill.

As promised she brought a blanket and joined him, laying under the tree as the large male went to sleep on her lap, contently humming as [ ] ran her fingers through his hair, making Kendo groan as he fell asleep like mentioned, hugging her thighs as he slept the most comfortable he had in weeks. Watching the hybrid sleep she saw all types of scars, some down his back , others on his chest. A few on his arms and only one on his face, plus the broken horn. He obviously got himself into different groups of problems, but he was sweet, not as curt as he expected. Running her fingers down his back she watched him shiver, going to wrap his arms higher around her torso. Giggling as softly as she could [ ] started to braid his hair back in his sleep, the moving under her ceasing as he was well resting once more. Thinking to herself ‘ If he’ll be like this it should be a breeze to help him.’ Oh how wrong she was.

A few days passed with little to no incident , [ ] going around helping with the daily chore and hanging out with her deity auntie. As the two of them sat in the living quarters, drinking a mixed juice that her father set them they heard a bell appear towards the window, it being Kendo’s mother “I'm so sorry to bother you , but i think something is gravely wrong. Kendo is whining in the shed, earlier he even started to-” Before she could finish a thumb came from his shed, followed by a groan “and that, he's been head butting his room” sitting up [ ] looked to his shed, seeing the door shut but large banging still coming from inside “Hey Auntie, is it alright if we could move him to the other field? I dont want his lashing to accidentally hurt anyone here” Coming besides [ ] Demeter chewed at her lip, thinking “Well, if we can stop him then yes, I'd get the boys to move it quickly”. With that answer [ ] got up, heading to the rocking shed. Taking in a breath she knocked, hearing that the groans subsided. The door slowly creaked open, showing a heaving Kendo “[ ].....?” He whispered, looking over her body as she reached to his forehead, pressing her hand against it. Hot, way too hot. “Kendo, sweetie come with me okay? We’re gonna go to the fields and we're gonna move your shed there okay?” Silently he nodded, coming out of his place. He was gasping, chest heaving as his eyes swirled a darker color than normal. Taking the outstretched hand of [ ] his larger fingers curled against it, following the light pull of the girl. Softly, He nudged her back “ ‘M hot..” he said as she looked back at him, making sure the fever wasn't wearing him down. He gave her a weak smile, rubbing the back of her hand “ ‘M alright princess, just hot” Kendo said as she noted how his voice dropped octaves. “Well theyre gonna bring a bigger shed for you out here and ill check on you every hour. Does anything hurt?” [ ] asked as they walked up the hill “Nah, but my horns are ackey.” “Is that why you were bashing them on the shed?” “Yeah...its like trying to scratch an itch you can reach” Kendo sighed, seeing his usual tree coming into view. As the duo got there he dramatically fell under it, pulling [ ] with him. “K-kendo! Careful!” she fussed as he let go of her apologizing as he drifted to sleep. Soon some of the workers had started working on the new roomed shed for him , finishing just before sundown as they would inform Demeter of where she was.

Gently pushing the deep sleeping boy from her lap she went to his new place, checking everything out. It was more of a small home than a shed, filled with a huge bed and a nice aesthetic to them, the touch of the goddess laced through the look of the place. Going around to sort some of the things they brought for Kendo, [ ] felt a presence behind her “whats all this..” the groggy bull said, ducking down to walk into his lavish bedroom “Your new home! I had them build something spacious but also not overwhelming, and these white are just so lovely.” [ ] kept talking as she soon felt two large arms wrap around her torso “ Ya did this for little ol me..?” He whispered as she ran a hand over his forearm. “I did...you need somewhere to relax in this state” She responded, trying to get from his grasp as he tighten it “Uh uh dont leave...tell me whats wrong with me doc..why cant I stop feeling hot...and anytime you come around I...cant help myself” He ended with a groan , burying his face in the shorter girls neck “Well once im sure of you being in a state of need ill be back okay? Just...relax for me and i promise ill be back.” finally convincing him to let go of her waist, not without a pained groan as he went to the bed, hazy eyes glancing over the short dress wearing girl “Get some more rest okay? Im gonna get something to eat and ill be back in the morning. Call me if you need me okay?” [ ] said as he just groaned a meek response, turning to his side.

Earlier the next morning [ ] woke up to an empty house. Stretching she found a neatly written note with some food on the table

Dearest Niece, Im currently headed to your Uncle Poseidon's place, I should be back some time later ; an update on Kendo, hes been begging for you all day, wont let anyone touch him or check on him. He should be awake now but do be warned ; He’s a lot more scatterbrained than usual

Auntie Demeter

Reading over the note again [ ] sighed, putting on her more comfortable and workable dress as she headed up to his new little house on his hill, the sound of groaning and whines coming to her ears as she got to his door. Seeing it ajar she pushed it open slightly, the place dark except from a crack of light coming from the window. Going to the shades she opened them, hearing a hiss from the bed. “Kendo its me..[ ]?” She called out as the wild set of hair came into view. He was even more disheveled, eyes filled over as he looke to the girl before growling, crawling out of the bed to her. With a gasp she was in his arms, body shaking as she was met with unnaturally feral eyes from the boy. “You left me yesterday..” he rapeseed out, burying his face in her neck again as she grabbed at his thick neck “Kendo honey, i told you id be back this morning didnt i?” She calmly said as he held her tighter, pushing her chest to his “Dont care, ‘ts too long” Realizing why he was so needy [ ] tried to reason with him “Well im sorry love, here lets sit down on the bed” Trying to get him to move she walked forward only to feel something large and hot push into her bare thigh. Nervously she looked down only to be faced to what she feared it was ; His hanging member. A wicked laugh came from above her as she was met with his ever lust driven eyes, a hand of his going to cup her ass and pull her closer “See what you left me with? No matter how hard i fuck my fist i cant cum, it wont come out” He whined and burried his face again, rocking himself on her thigh “Please ill do anythin..youre the only one who sgotten me like this...the only one i want..[ ] please princess help me” Overwhelmed but the situation she tried to pull back, eyes searching his “K-kendo youre getting yourself worked up relax-” Without warning he picked her up, making her screech as he brought her crouch to his face, inhaling as he whimpered, reaching down to his growing dick “Fuck you smell good, like flowers...and sweets..” Letting his tongue roll out he sucked over her panties, making her squeal as she gripped his messy hair “N-no kendo put me down i need to help y-you!” She moaned as his tongue flicked over her clit, a mutual groan coming from both of them. Soon a hard tug to his hair resonated, cause him to put her down as she barely touched the floor, hand grabbing his biceps “Kendo please, please sit down youre overworking yourself.” Trying to calm her racing heart she saw how hazed he was, his hand coming to wrap around his visually throbbing head, stroking himself as tight and fast as he could, looking at the awe struck girl infront of him. His hips lifted up as he was chasing a high but he soon groaned, thrusting meekly in his fist “I-I cant, fuck I cant do it doll, ‘t hurts...p-please” Finally snapping from her haze she got closer to Kendo, hand still trying to milk himself as she put her hand over his, stoping the motion.

“K-ken..ill help you okay? Youre gonna rub yourself raw at this pace..” nervously [ ] pulled his hand away, precum coating it as she gulped. He was huge, red and swollen tip curved in the right places. Even with his bull heritage he was still humanly manageable, but with a lot of work to try and get it to fit. With her staring at the intimidating size it twitched , curving up to his belly button as he gave her a lop sided snarl “ Cmon darlin, he... er, we need you . ya keep staring make me feel a bit exposed” He laughed as [ ] gave her own light chuckle. Facing her fears she wrapped a hand around his tip, a hurting yelp falling from Kendo at the touch made her eyes flicker to him but what she saw was pure lust, eyes blown with his tongue licking over his lips “Y-yes finally...shit I-i can feel somethin” Kendo couldnt help himself. Reaching down he grabbed her other hand , wrapping them tightly around his tip as he thrusted between them. “Mhmm im cumin, im gonna cum o-oh shit” As soon as she twisted her wrist to help him he felt himself twitch , spurts of warm cum splattering on [ ]’s face and the floor a he gave her a nervous laugh “S-shit doll face yer good...im sorry i couldnt hold it in..” he said shyly as [ ] gave him a sympathetic look, stroking over his still throbbing head. “[ ] please...can I fuck you? I-I promise ill go slow its juts the smell of you is..mhmm intoxicating” Kendo pulled her up from her knees, pressing his mouth against her clinging panties ,pulling them with his teeth. [ ] squeaked, grabbing his hair as he pushed her hips closer, trying to lick her. “W-wait ill take em off” Pushing at his shoulders she pulled the piece he had in his mouth out, sliding the flimsy lace as she came a bit closer, a growl coming from his lips as he pushed her dress higher, finally able to taste her. Throwing one leg then the next on his shoulder kendo fell back, making her fall onto his lips.

[ ] let a pitched moan come out, startled by his rummaging in between her thighs , his diligent uskcing on her clit taking a toll as she came, bucking her hips onto his mouth. Swallowing her juices Kendo flipped her on her stomach, pushing the fabric of her dress up and over her shoulder to release her covered chest, now exposed “mhmm i want more of that sweet nectar baby why dont you give it to me?” whispering in her ear and now bucking his even harder dikc between her small lips [ ] started to panic “K-Ken wait I dont think youll fit!” ignoring her thrashing Kendo looked over her body, seeing how she shook at every stroke of his tip against her sopping core “I told ya ill be gentle, hold still [ ]...i wouldnt hurt my mate” The heaviness of those word took over [ ]’s body as she looked back to him, only to see the save behemoth size push against her ring of muscles. Agonizingly slow he pushed, letting his tip slide in as he pushed each small inch he could in, a whine falling from them both. Once he was halfway in he slowly thrust his hips, causing the girl to yelp “I-its alright i got ya okay? Youre fine...its okay im here” Constantly praising her , Kendo was able to slip more into her, each mini thrust pushing him a bit closer to her, the sounds of squishing and pleasure filled moans filling the room. Becoming overwhelmed at almost being full [ ] pushed her hips back to take the rest, making Kendo yelped and [ ] moaned, the sudden feeling of him bottoming out almost too much as he placed his hand on her stomach, feeling him brush her cervix. Swinging his hips more fluidly he started to pounder her even more, gripping her neck as he pushed her deeper in the bed “Fuck yeah i knew youd be my perfect little minx, taking me so well i cant wait to see you swollen with my babies” He huskily whispered , the stretched out girl too blissed at taking him whole to care about his words.

“I bet youd love being my mate, wouldnt have to lift a finger for anything , id take good care of ya..” Continuing his beating against her cervix he felt something strong hed never felt before, a blind need to cum hitting him like a train “mhm..please let me breed you, this pussys’ mine, all i ever wanted...ill make you a cute little house wife hm? Make you swell with cute little us running about.” Feeling her weakening clench over him he reached for that bundle of nerves, switching his hips to hit even deeper, his throbbing dick pushing against that sponge in her walls. Crying out [ ] fell lower, feeling him slip impossibly deeper as he sped up.” Cmon [ ] , babygirl cum for me..give me it..t-then i can give you what you want yeah? Fill ya to the brim so you can bear me a strong child….”Finally at that the little sense of control snapped coming from a particularly hard push and roll of her clit she was whining , grabbing the arm beside her head as angry red lines welted up. Feeling her hit her peak Kendo got to his knees , nursing her bud as she tried to tug him away, thighs shaking as teary eyes looked down to his fierce lust filled one. As soon as she started whimpering and pulling her hips away he stopped, scrubbing his tip along her folds as he entered without too much pull, [ ]’s mouth falling open “Mh..i'm so close baby...just wanted to look at you when I fill you full..” Kendo felt his tip twitch, making his hips stutter as he picked his pace up again, watching as her arms went are far as they could to his back, stretching his shoulders as he came with a growl, and almost audible sound of him pumping in her heard as she weakly pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a intimate kiss.

With care he pulled from her lips, seeing her eyes fill up again as he kissed tears away “Its alright...its okay ‘m here princess...its alright..I didnt hurt you did I?” Kendo asked as he looke at her slightly bulged stomach, a satisfied smirk on his lips “ Hey [ ]...” He started as she gave a weak hum he continued “Be my mate..I know i didnt ask before filling you bu...id be honored to make such a caring woman my mate and wife...treat you just like my father does my mom..…” He said, nuzzling her cheek before [ ] pulled his face up, kissing him lightly as she gave him a tired smile, rubbing his cheeks “I-id be honored to be your mate..take good care of me okay? Or Auntie Demeter has your head..” Laughing he kissed her lips again, sealing their new deal

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #the circus dome collab #rappa x reader #kendo rappa #rappa smut #kendo rappa x reader

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓)

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @koiibito, @reinawritesbnha, @shorkbrian

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count: 5862

navigation

The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams.

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this?

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero!

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad.

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard.

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you.

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation.

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case.

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon.

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him.

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting, interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious.

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot.

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office.

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected.

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him.

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers.

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy.

He can feel his jeans tighten.

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended.

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep.

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

“What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue.

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens! Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge.

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you.

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go.

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him?

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

“Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair.

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-”

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly.

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

“YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run.

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him.

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life.

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure.

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff.

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost.

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life.

Just hope he lets you cum the next time.

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

A Certain Romance (2/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,685

Warnings: not rlly anything

A/N: a lil bit of a deeper dive for these two’s relationship👀... enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Sam invited him out to some restaurant, but after the last one he suggested, he decided to pass. And when Sam asked him what he was doing instead, if he was seeing you, Bucky lied and said yes. It made Sam happy and got him out of going to another ridiculous restaurant, so he saw it as a win-win.

Once Sam left, though, his thoughts did drift to what you were doing.

You two exchanged numbers at the pizza place after your date, but you two haven’t texted much. He texted you making sure you got home safe, which you did, and a day or so after, you texted him a picture of some advertisement with an awfully cheesy pick-up line written on it, which even he agreed was awful.

But that’s about it. So, he texts you.

Hey. What are u doing?

About to make dinner. Y?

Told Sam I was seeing u. Wanna hang out?

Come over.

Simple enough, he thinks.

You two haven’t had the most meaningful text conversations, clearly, but it’s still nice. No flirting, no typing and retyping messages in order to hook, line, and sinker, no ghosting. No relationship texting.

It was a dream for him. To have a new friend. He’s made plenty of friends, both in New York and in Wakanda. But it’s all under the same… umbrella. Always an agent, a fighter, an analyst of some sort. Someone to train with, to fight with, to fight for. Never someone like you. Someone that works a mundane job and lives in a mundane part of New York where her weekends are filled with going on mundane blind dates or otherwise cooking dinner for one.

It’s a breath of fresh air to not talk about fighting or missions or press or media or anything else he has to hear about at work. The only connection you have with Sam is that you met in a coffee shop a few years ago that has since closed down. He was one of your first friends here.

You could care less about Captain America, too. Which hurts Sam’s ego, and in turn, makes Bucky smile.

So, he goes over to yours.

He’s not sure what you’re making, but he brings a bottle of red wine as a courtesy. You are making dinner after all. Besides, women love wine, right?

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Enough going on to show that someone does indeed live here, but also enough to show that you’re not exactly swimming in riches, like most people that live in this city.

The place smells like garlic and basil, and he’s glad that he brought the wine.

Shoes discarded at the door, he helps chop up the rest of the ingredients while you put a pot of water to boil. He chops up mushrooms, onion, pancetta, eyeing the bottle of vodka out on the table and tube of tomato paste next to his hand.

It's an understatement to say he’s excited. Most of the pasta he makes is from a bag of precooked noodles and a jar of tomato sauce.

Basic small talk floats through the air as the two of you dance around one another in the kitchen. Even though you’re “dating”, you don’t know much about each other. This isn’t too uncommon from how dating was for Bucky when he was a teenager; you’d marry women knowing very little about them.

Your favorite color is orange. You played violin in grade school. You had a childhood dog named Chowder. Bucky tells you his favorite color is green. He played a little bit of piano when he was younger, but did boxing in his late teens and early twenties before the war. You poke fun at him when he can’t remember the name of his own childhood dog.

“He’s probably rolling over in dog-heaven.”

“Good boy; he’d deserve a treat.”

You laugh.

Easy conversation continues on the couch as bowl after bowl of pasta is eaten and replenished. As fun and seemingly simple questions are asked, like each of your favorite movies or whether or not you pour the milk before the cereal, the room that’s left is used for deeper questions.

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” You ask him.

He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth, only to close it again. “One time when Princess Shuri was fixing my arm it wasn’t secure completely, so it flew off while I was playing with some of the children.”

“That’s not your most embarrassing moment. I know it’s not, now you have to tell me what it really is.” You tease him.

He’s never been the best liar.

“You’re right, it’s not my most embarrassing moment. My actual most embarrassing moment is just kind of… sad. And I didn’t want to ruin the mood or anything.” He explains, hoping you’ll accept that but instead you give him an encouraging smile to hopefully give him some comfort that whatever it is he wants to tell you is safe in your apartment.

“Okay, uhm. So, in the 40’s, after I was rescued by Steve, but before we shipped out again where I was recaptured for the second and final time. We were all holed up in this little dance club, all the soldiers and their gals. And in walks Peggy Carter in a pretty red dress,” He begins, only glancing at your eyes periodically as if to make sure you’re still there.

“I know she’s Steve’s gal, he told me all about her. I wasn’t flirting with her because I wanted her, I was flirting with her… to make sure I still could. I mean, after being held in that… place… they injected me with stuff, told me things that weren’t true, I mean Steve told me I was repeating my number over and over again when he found me, I didn’t even remember doing that. I felt… violated, used, not like myself. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.

“So, when Peggy walked in, I thought about how everyone always called me a ladies man, how good I was with women, I mean, I’d take girls out about every damn weekend, you know? I wanted to feel normal, so I flirted with her, tried to get her to dance with me. And she completely ignored me. She never even took her eyes off of Steve. It’s like I was invisible. And it just sort of felt like the nail in the coffin for whoever James Barnes was before the war. It was a realization that I’m never going to be that person again. And it was embarrassing for me.” He explains.

He hasn’t looked up at you again, but he heard your fork stop moving around your bowl a minute or so ago. He feels a lump in his throat thinking about that time, how he knew he’d never get back the man he was, even before knowing what was in store for him after falling off that train. How he used to be this man that wanted a long, happy marriage, six or seven kids running around a big backyard, a white picket fence surrounding a big two-story house in a neighborhood of identical homes. He wanted the cheesy life, at one point. But the same man that wanted that life died falling off a train many years ago.

All of that’s forgotten, though, when you open your mouth, and seem to say the perfect thing to make him feel better.

“One time in the third grade, this girl pulled my skirt down in front of my crush, and I wasn’t wearing any undies.”

A snort escapes his throat as you, somehow, after he’s shared something so deeply personal, something he never even told Steve or Sam about, still found a way to make him laugh. Which is what he wanted, he realizes. The comfort of moving on from that confession and not having to wallow in it like other people would try to. His hand leaves his fork to cover his face as tears threaten to leak out from how hard he’s laughing.

He took that secret to the grave, even if it wasn’t his own. He told himself he’d never tell Steve about how he felt in that situation, and he never did. He never told Steve that he didn’t enlist, either. He couldn’t imagine how Steve would’ve felt knowing that the army would’ve rather taken men that didn’t want to go to war, men who were terrified to go to war, had too much to lose and wanted to be selfish and stay home, than men like Steve who would do anything to enlist. Including lying on the damn enlistment form.

He wonders if Steve is looking at him now. Watching over him as he shares something that he never did with his best friend, with you, a girl he’s met barely a week ago, on your couch over bowls of pasta while he points out leftover sauce on the corner of your lip.

“What’s your greatest fear?” He asks you next.

“Dying alone. Actually, no. Getting kidnapped, probably.”

“Oh, mine’s spiders.” He shares.

It’s so easy to laugh with you, he finds. He jokes with Sam a lot, all the bickering and teasing all in good fun at the end of the day, and it’s mostly pretty funny. But laughing with you. He feels like a teenager again. Somehow, everything is funny; he doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed so much, especially about things that aren’t even that funny.

It’s raining at the end of the night. Early morning, rather.

“You can take the couch, if you’d like.”

“Nah, I don't mind a little rain, and I like the ride home.” He fed Alpine before he left, but he imagines his cat misses him, even if she’s probably busy licking herself to even notice he’s left.

“Suit yourself.”

You don’t push him. A simple pleasure that’s more of a luxury for him. There’s no pushing or convincing or Are you sure’s with you.

Certainly a luxury, you are.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 17 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello my loves, just a reminder that I am still on vacation so the queue is posting this! Will respond to ur taglist requests and messages ASAP love u all :)

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of death, violence, drug use

wordcount: 2k

You and Aaron each read Jack a book of his choosing before tucking him into bed and heading towards Aaron’s bedroom together. Bringing your pajamas into the bathroom, you change and brush your teeth with the door closed, which feels silly, given everything, but you can’t help it. Aaron slips into the bathroom as you step out, and you sit on top of the covers, hands folded in your lap, anxiously awaiting his return.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asks, clocking your anxiety immediately.

“Nothing, I just feel bad that I got us caught by Jack,” you confessed, looking down at the comforter.

“I couldn’t be less upset about that,” he assures you, climbing into bed beside you and taking your hand in his. “I mean, he practically told us that he already knew, even if he was a little confused.”

“That was the other thing-- sorry that marriage and all of that got brought up. I’m sure that was---”

“I’m not upset about that, either.” He interrupts you. “Did I do something to make you think I was upset?”

“No, no,” you assured him. “It’s just kind of early for that kind of stuff, I’m sure it was uncomfortable--”

“It wasn’t uncomfortable. Apparently I’ve done a bad job of expressing how strongly I care for you, and I’m sorry for that.” You go to interrupt, but he cuts you off. “I couldn’t be happier that Jack knows how much I love you. Sharing that with our people-- my son, and our team-- is not something you need to apologize for, or something I’m ashamed of. I’m thrilled to be able to love you openly. No more apologies, okay?”

Your breath caught just a little, but you hold it together. “No more apologies,” you agreed. “Aaron, it’s such a privilege to be loved by you,” you whispered, needing him to know how much his words meant to you but scared to ruin the moment. Aaron just shook his head, leaning to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he whispers into your hair, and you close your eyes, letting the peace of his touch overwhelm you.

“There’s one more thing,” you said, after a moment.

“And it’s not an apology?” Aaron checks.

“No, it’s not an apology,” you assure him. “I wanted to thank you for sharing those pictures with Jack and me tonight. I’m sure it was emotional, but I was glad to see them. You love Haley so much. Thank you for sharing her memory with me.”

“She was the reason I got up in the morning, from the day I met her until the day she died.” Aaron tells you, and you squeeze his hand.

“Everyone knew how much you loved her, Aaron. Even after the divorce, there wasn’t a single person at the bureau who knew a man who loved his wife that much.” You assured him.

“But it wasn’t enough. I failed her, and I could fail you too.”

“No, Aaron, no you didn’t. You promised to love her for as long as you lived, and you didn’t break that promise. You didn’t promise her you’d never change, and she never promised you that she’d never change. You both changed, but you never stopped loving each other.” You told him.

“How did you know? How did you know that I never stopped loving her? Didn’t that scare you out of loving me?’ Aaron whispered.

“Aaron, the way you love her shows in everything you do. You never took a picture of her down, even after the divorce, when I’m sure they were painful to look at. You always let her know you were safe at night, and when she left you, you helped her move and made sure she had everything you needed.”

“And that doesn’t scare you? That even when she left me, I still loved her?”

“No, Aaron, it doesn’t scare me. That’s how I feel about you, so I understand.”

“You don’t mean that,” Aaron says immediately-- how could you mean that? When Haley was so refined, so beautiful, so compassionate, and he was just a man, a man with baggage and trauma and a dark past?

“Of course I do, Aaron. I never told you this, and I might be selfish in telling you now-- but in the weeks after Haley died, I went to bed at night praying that time would move backwards and that I could take her place. I’d do anything to get her back to you, even if it meant that you and I never made it here.”

“It’s an incredible privilege to be loved by you,” Aaron echoes your earlier statement, and you smile.

When you wake up the next morning, you realize that you’re never going to get a good night’s sleep without Aaron beside you again, and you love him and hate him for it in equal measure. Your anger is quickly forgotten when he rolls over and starts planting kisses across your face.

“We have to get Jack to school,” you reminded him with a smile between kisses.

“We’ve got time,” he brushes you off.

“You’ve got time, maybe. My hair is a mess from napping on your couch and I have to do my makeup,” you reminded him, planting one final kiss on his lips before rolling out of bed and heading towards the bathroom.

When you’ve gotten yourself ready for the day, you make your way out to the kitchen, were Jack is sitting in front of a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice.

“Morning, little man,” you said, ruffling his hair and smoothing it back down as you sat in the seat next to him. Aaron crosses the kitchen with two plates, putting a piece of toast with peanut butter and banana slices in front of you, and one on his own placemat.

“Thanks, honey,” You smile, taking a bite of your breakfast as he sits.

“Dad? Can we go to the soccer field tonight after work?” Jack asks as his father settles in.

“I can’t promise tonight, but we can definitely go this week, okay bud?”

“Okay.”

“Finish your breakfast, kiddo, or you’re gonna be late,” you told him, taking your plate to the sink and prepping travel mugs of coffee for you and Aaron, who shepherds Jack through the last few steps of getting out the door. You follow them down to the car and Aaron drives down the road to Jack’s school. You sit in the carpool line for a minute, listening to Jack point out his friends as they walk into the building, before Aaron pulls up to the curb and it’s Jack’s turn to get out. Aaron rolls down the window as Jack collects his things.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Hotchner,” a peppy brunette woman who you’re pretty sure is Jack’s teacher ducks down to make eye contact with Aaron through the window.

“Good morning, Ms. Meadows.”

‘Oh, and who’s this?” Ms. Meadows says, taking note of you for the first time. Aaron introduces the two of you, and you notice her looking you up and down, almost sizing you up.

“Nice to meet you,” she says perfunctorily, turning her attention back to Aaron almost in an instant. “Did Jack tell you about the volunteer sign ups for the kids’ talent show?”

“He did, I think his Aunt Jess--”

“Oh, that’s right, Jess did mention to me that she’d be here!” Ms. Meadows interrupts. “I guess I was just hoping to get some strong FBI dads in the building to help set up the stage equipment,” she pouts, and you briefly entertain the thought of leaning over the center console and wiping the pleading look across her face.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” Aaron says, blissfully interrupted by Jack waiting to give him and you a kiss goodbye. The two of you kiss both of his cheeks, and he hops out of the backseat and takes off towards the main entrance.

“She was pleasant,” you note sarcastically when Aaron pulls out of the parking lot.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, looking over at you briefly, his nose scrunched up in confusion.

“She’s clearly into you, Aaron.” You said, knowing it was obvious and he was just being oblivious.

“What? No she’s not,” Aaron shook his head.

“Oh, Mr. Hotchner, please come save me from the Woodbridge Elementary School talent show. I need your big, strong muscles to move all this heavy equipment because I’m just a docile young lady,” you mimicked Jack’s teacher in an exaggerated tone.

“Now, if she had said that, then maybe I would have thought she was into me,” Aaron laughs at your dramatics.

“She gave me a nasty look. She doesn’t like that she has competition.” You argue.

“She doesn’t have competition. I mean, there is no competition. There’s just you, and that’s how I like it,” he said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grab yours and bring it to his lips.

Garcia is waiting for you both in Aaron’s office when you arrive at work.

“Is everything okay?” You ask her immediately, feeling Aaron shift his body towards yours.

“I finished digging up everything I could on Josh, if you want to see it.” She tells you both, and you look at Aaron. Truth be told, you don’t really want to know, but being disgusted and informed is probably better than being uninformed and caught off guard.

“Come on, we’ll go review it in your office.” Aaron said, stepping aside to let Garcia lead the way. Once she is a few paces ahead, he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, and you just tell me if you need to take a break, okay?”

You nodded, and Aaron place a comforting hand on your back as the two of you made your way down to the batcave.

“Okay, so, just going through the highlights,” Garcia starts, clicking at tabs and pulling them up on her assortment of monitors throughout the room. “Starting a few weeks before you left, I noticed that Josh was calling and texting the same number a lot-- but only when you all were off fighting crime. Of course, I assumed that this absolute peach of a man had somehow conned not one but two women who had to be decidedly out of his league, but it turns out that wasn’t the case. He’s been doing coke, and the number leads to his dealer.”

“Fuck, again?” You interrupted her.

“He was doing coke when the two of you were together?” Aaron asked, surprised.

“Not for a while, or so I thought. The coke was what made him violent-- I told him it was the drugs or me, and when he told me that he’d picked me, I believed him.” You explained. “He must have been high when he showed up that night-- he was always an asshole but showing up like that was out of character.”

“So, with you out of the picture, it seems like the coke usage has increased a lot. Like, from a weekly to a daily thing, a lot. He’s going out at night, racking massive credit card debt. He hasn’t purchased a firearm or anything that indicates that he might be planning something violent, but he’s definitely acting impulsive.”

“Was he sober or high when he sent the flowers?” Aaron asks.

“Sir, I don’t think he’s been sober since you took all of her stuff out of the apartment,” Garcia responds.

“He’s only going to get more aggressive and out-of-touch with reality the longer this bender lasts,” you note, clinically, as if you were talking about a case halfway across the country and as if your future wasn’t hanging in the balance.

“We’ll keep an eye on it, and we’ll be ready. Garcia, can you print out a full copy of this and get it on my desk?”

“Are you sure? The full copy is really long, it’s got to be--”

“I’m sure, Garcia. Thank you.”

tagging: @hotforhotchner11 @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @msmarvelsmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

half baked - pjm | m

baby we two distant strangers. i know you don't speak my language, but I love the way she's talking to me - love talk, wayv

↳ summary- park jimin gets a job at your bakery, and you can’t help but find yourself annoyingly attracted to the cocky man.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ word count- 5.2k

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, lightly dom!jimin, sub!reader, slight enemies2lovers, sex in a kitchen, please god don’t fuck in a kitchen its a health code violation, spanking, nipple play, cum play, fingering

↳ a/n- ahHH!HHHHhhh!H! i blame this 100% on @wwilloww for merely putting the idea in my head and i had to take it and run with it. also thank you to @kimtaehyunq my babe/my loml for the amazing banner! i truly do not deserve u but ily so much. and thank you to @chimoona @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @taetaewonderland for being the best mf squad a lady could have and beta-ing this for me! i love you all so much! i hope you enjoy silly cocky jimin!

Two cups of flour, one and three quarters cup sugar, 2 cups of butter.

You know the recipes by heart. In fact, one might postulate that the recipes themselves are the sole contents of your heart.

You live and breathe baking. It is your solace and your truest love.

Which is why it is all nearly thrown into catastrophe when Park Jimin comes into the picture.

It starts on a rather busy day. You’re hard at work in the kitchen, prepping the finished products and presenting them in neat little boxes, when your best friend and co-owner of Wake ‘N Bake, Willow, lets out a frustrated squeal.. You turn your head to find her covered head to toe in flour, making you snort as she shoots you a playfully ominous glare.

“Shut up,” she sniffs as she attempts to pat some fine dust off of her, to no avail. “I only have two hands and about fifty things to do with them at the same time.”

Your lips part to reply something equally sassy when the bell over the front door rings, notifying you of a paying customer. Grabbing a towel, you quickly wipe off cookie debris and throw it at your best friend to do her best to clean off as she follows behind you.

You pause as you take stock of who stands there. A handsome man arrives at the cash register and peers around, presumably looking for an employee. He is gorgeous—ethereal even and looks like someone who walked out of the pages of a magazine. His bone structure screams model, and you can’t help but feel the stirrings of desire for the beautiful stranger.

“Hi! Welcome to Wake ‘N Bake!” Willow sings cheerfully, despite being coated in baking flour.

The man eyes her with a glint of humor in his eye, and Willow’s cheeks turn a hue of pink when she remembers her current appearance.

“Hi,” he speaks. His voice is smooth like butter, and gentle. It makes you feel weak, like you’re warming in the very ovens that your pastries rise in.

“I saw your shop from down the street and I had to stop in. Your desserts look amazing. Is the owner here by chance?”

Your smile fades as he looks around the room for someone else, someone beyond you and your best friend.

Of course.

No one believes that two young women could start and maintain their own business. Everyone assumes that some older, well-off man was at the helm while you and Willow toil for minimum wage.

Your arms cross over your body in clear displeasure.

“We are the owners.”

“Oh!” The man looks surprised but not put off. “Awesome. I was hoping I could… talk to you about, err—… a job?”

His face is sheepish and Willow nearly coos at the sight.

Unfortunately, it appears you and your best friend have warring ideas.

“Yes!” She chimes at the same moment you dead-pan a resounding ‘No’.

Your heads spin to stare at each other—Willow’s eyes wide in disbelief and yours in annoyance.

“We need the help!” She huffs.

“We can do things on our own, like we always have,” you remind her.

Willow gestures to her flour covered clothing in desperation.

“We clearly could use help with how successful we have gotten!”

To your chagrin, she has a point. It might be nice to have someone to help in the front while the two of you manage the kitchen in the back. It would increase your productivity by double what you’re able to do now.

But there’s something about his attitude coming in that rubs you the wrong way. Like, he’s too pretty. Too confident. Too nice.

“What’s your baking experience?” You ask as you turn back to the hopelessly lost, yet ever eager man.

“Oh, err—,” he stutters. “I worked at my friend Jin’s restaurant. That served desserts, too?”

You shake your head in disdain while Willow claps her hands in excitement, a puff of white flour dust pluming into the air.

“Perfect! So you could do sales!?”

“Yeah! I can do sales, no problem.”

You turn your gaze back to Willow who stares at the man like he is her knight in shining armor.

“Willow?! Can I talk to you in the back?”

She knows that tone—the one that tells her you’re not pleased with her decisions. She nods once and politely excuses the both of you from the man before heading back towards the kitchen.

“What in the world is wrong with you?!” She asks the moment the swinging door closed.

“Me?!” You’re incredulous—hands flying in the air. “You’re over here trying to hire the first Joey Hot-Lips who walks in off the street!”

Willow’s anguished face falls and turns into a devilish smirk as she leans back on her heels.

“Aha! You’re attracted to him,” she notes as if she figured out the world's greatest mystery. “That’s why you don’t want him here.”

“What? No!” Your defense crumbles around you. “Did you hear him? He totally acted like he didn’t believe we could be the owners!”

“Oh, come on, that was a simple mistake and you know it! You’re just being protective.”

You ‘humph’ a non-committal response—unable to argue.

You are protective of your bakery. It’s your combined love child with Willow. What started as a dream between cocktails with your best friend became a real brick and mortar reality. You had been through enough trying to open it you can’t help but feel skeptical of anyone trying to get involved. Many tried to discredit your ability to maintain such a successful shop, and you’d rather continue to run it with no one else than see it fall at the hands of another.

“Just as I thought,” Willow hums. “In that case, he’s hired!”

You’re given no chance to reply—the flour-covered girl pushes through the swinging doors and announces to the handsome man that he’s hired and free to start the following day.

“Great! Thanks!” His smile is sincere—blinding and breathtaking, and you hate how much you want to see that smile again.

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, waving goodbye as he exits the chiming door.

“Now, you need to deal with whatever issues you have about letting others into the shop,” she says pointedly, pushing a finger into your arm gently. “And whatever issues you have with wanting to bone him.”

“Willow!” You gasp. “I do not want to bone him!”

“Sure, babe. You think you can fool me but I know you too well. Just try not to fuck him in the kitchen, alright? I don’t need the health inspector up our ass.”

The next early morning starts at 4:30 am, with you elbow deep in cookie dough for a catering order. You’ve nearly forgotten about the new employee starting until the man himself strolls into the back kitchen as if he’s worked there for years.

“Hey!” He says cheerfully, two cups of coffee in his hands. “I got you a coffee. Willow said you’re a nightmare without some in the morning.”

Your eyes narrow at the man. It’s unfair how delicious he looked so early; while you look like a frizzy mess who rolled out of bed and walked into work (which you did), he looked polished and crisp and clean. It’s infuriating as much as it’s glaringly attractive.

“Thanks,” you mutter as you pick cookie dough off your hands and pull off your plastic sanitary gloves. “Every girl loves hearing she’s a nightmare.”

He chuckles behind his steaming cup and places yours on the workbench next to you.

“Those were her words, of course. I’d never call you a nightmare.”

You easily flush, then chastise yourself for allowing him to make you feel so weak so early in the morning.

“To be fair,” he continues. “I don’t even know your name.”

“___,” you sigh as you grab the coffee and bring it to your lips. “And you?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

The first sip of coffee is like a soothing hug. He somehow knew how you took your coffee—two creams and two sugars.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just guessed.”

“Good guess.”

Jimin smirks and looks proud of his accomplishment.

“You seem like the type of girl who likes balance to her sweetness.”

You stare at him curiously over your own steaming paper cup, unsure of what to make of his comment.

“Good morning to the love of my life!” Comes the voice of your best friend entering through the back door.

You roll your eyes in amusement as she teeters in, peppy and perky as she always is this early.

“Oh! Hi, Jimin.” Her cheeks turn a familiar shade of rose as she realizes he heard her. “I didn’t know you were here yet. That’s just a… thing we say to each other every morning.”

“Cute.” Jimin smirks at you, making your stomach lift with unwanted butterflies. “Where do you want me?”

Underneath you, beside you, above you, any possibly way...

You shake your head quickly to push away the sexual thoughts of the gorgeous man taking you from any position. No, you refuse to let your mind wander there.

Willow finishes washing her hands and putting on her apron before she nods to the fridge.

“If you can get the milk, eggs, and butter out, we’ll use you for creaming.”

Your cheeks heat impossibly as Jimin smirks even wider.

“Oh, I’m fantastic at creaming.”

Your hands pause from where they massage dough while you close your eyes and breathe, before lifting to glare at your best friend who wears a faux-innocent look.

“I’m sure you are, Jimin,” she chimes virtuously, before getting to work.

The next few weeks were a haze. You’re so caught up with graduations, birthdays, weddings and major events that your time spent at the shop overtakes your time sleeping, breathing, existing in any way that isn’t baking.

Even Jimin was busy. Despite your initial hesitancy, he was proving to be an excellent third member of your team. He’s a pro at sales—you’re sure his good looks and the mostly female clientele helps—and he pitches in in the kitchen without fail. He even tries his hand at decorating cakes, with only one frosting-based spill. You would never give Willow the satisfaction of telling her outright, but she made an excellent decision in hiring the dazzling man.

But it doesn’t stop your annoying heart from fluttering every time he comes close to you—rubs elbows as he helps you roll out dough or smiles at you from across the workbench as he stamps out sugar cookies. You refuse to allow yourself any thoughts on what it would taste like to lick dough off his fingers or how he would look bending you over the countertop to take you from behind.

You only allow such thoughts at night, safely tucked into bed with your vibrator cranked to the highest setting.

It doesn’t help that Jimin solidifies himself in your life by introducing his handsome and dopey best friend Jungkook to your gorgeous and clumsy best friend Willow. The moment they laid eyes on each other, you knew you were doomed to have Jimin in your life with or without the bakery.

And you weren’t sure how to handle that notion.

Was Jimin flirting with you simply because you were there? He seemed to have no problem flirting with the customers. Sure, the shop has never made more money than when Jimin works his charms and seduces women of all ages to buy the extra cookies, cannolis, and cakes—not that you watched or glared or hated every second. No, of course not. It was for the good of your business and the angry jealousy demon inside you would need to stay firmly locked away.

Except, it’s on a particularly crowded day at the shop that your jealousy gets the best of you.

You’re up front assisting Jimin by boxing and bagging the treats he rings up.

You know he’s flirtatious, but it’s when he goes the extra mile for an extra pretty girl that you lose your cool on him the moment the customers leave.

“Do you have to eye-fuck every single co-ed that walks in this place?!”

Your hands fly up in frustration, and Jimin watches you with a soft gaze.

His silence and knowing smirk makes you continue.

“Seriously? What the fuck was that about?! You’re acting like you’re about to bend her over right here in front of us! Jesus!”

Willow hears the commotion from the back and comes forward.

“What’s going on here?” She asks suspiciously.

You point towards Jimin who maintains his poised demeanor.

“I’m reminding Jimin that work is not a place to sexually engage our customers!”

Willow rolls her eyes as she pulls her apron off and grabs her coat from the hook.

“Whatever, you’re being ridiculous. Jimin’s never been inappropriate. Plus, he’s making us a fuck-ton of money,” she sighs. “You two can close up without killing each other right?” She eyes you in particular.

You cross your arms and huff, glancing at the clock to find you have two hours still until closing. “Why? Where are you going?”

Willow’s annoyance fades away as if it never existed.

“Jungkook is taking me to the Museum of the Printing Press!”

You can’t help but choke a laugh while she pushes your arm.

“Shush! You know how much I love them! And he totally surprised me with tickets!”

Willow can’t shake that lovesick look in her eyes and your heart melts a little. She’s your best friend and you’re thrilled she’s found someone who wants to indulge her in her nerdy fascinations.

“Go have fun, babe,” you smile sincerely. “We can take care of closing. Now, go fuck on a letterpress or whatever!”

Willow snorts and hugs you tight, bids goodbye to Jimin, and exits the store.

Now that your quick anger is gone, you feel sheepish around the man who has yet to reply to your tirade—but you refuse to stick around under his piercing gaze.

“I’ll be in the back,” you mumble under your breath before slipping into the kitchen before he can get any word in edge wise.

You spend the rest of the evening monologuing an apology as you prep ingredients for the next morning and clean your workstations. The shop is closed, doors locked, and Jimin is somewhere at the front of the house finishing his duties.

“‘Hey, I’m sorry for the way I acted’,” you practice out loud. “Hm—no, not humble enough. ‘Hey Jimin, I was a real bitch’, too degrading? Maybe something like, ‘Hey Chim, can I call you Chim? That was fucked up, wasn’t it? Haha.’ God!” You throw your rag down in a huff, frustrated at your inability to form a decent apology.

“You can call me Chim, if you want,” a voice speaks from behind you.

You squeak in surprise and turn around, clutching your apron in your hands as you find Jimin leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face.

“Only my closest friends call me Chim, but I think we’re close enough.”

You swallow hard and nibble at your lip.

“I’m assuming you heard that whole… thing,” you mumble anxiously. His nod confirms that he heard your entire play-by-play of the apology you would deliver to the handsome man.

“Yeah,” he licks at his lips. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“J-jealous?” You nearly trip over your own tongue. “I wasn’t—, I’m not jealous!”

Jimin begins a slow approach towards you, striding as he keeps his sparkling eyes on yours.

“Oh?” He quirks his head, making his soft hair fall into his face. You desperately want to push it away, cup his cheek, kiss those ridiculously plump lips.

He can tell you’re staring at this mouth and it makes his smirk turn nearly feral.

“So, you weren’t jealous? Not a single bit?”

He inches closer and you can feel your heart tighten in your chest and your stomach twists in on itself in excitement, in nerves.

“N-no,” you whisper, unconvincingly.

“You didn’t want to be the one I was making eyes at? The one who ‘gets bent over the counter’ as you said?”

“I—,” Jimin cuts your words short as he stands a breath away from you.

“I guess if you weren’t jealous, then I don’t have to tell you you’re the one I really want to bend over the counter.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating—positive that it will fall from its place in your ribs into your feet.

“What?”

Jimin cups a hand to your cheek and smiles as he steps even closer.

“If you’re not jealous, then I don’t have to reassure you you’ve got nothing to be jealous over.”

Your lips run dry, throat parched as if you’ve never had a sip of water. Jimin is standing so close to you you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves.

“Jimin—,” you breathe and he continues forward until he presses you against the countertop and crowding you into the metal and wood.

“Tell me you were jealous.”

You gulp, eyes seeking his for an answer, for any information. Is he playing you? Does he know you’re hopelessly attracted to him? Does he find it humorous to tease you when Willow isn’t here to insert herself into your flirting.

“I was jealous,” you admit slowly. The words are hard to release, but once they do, the floodgates open. “I wanted to be the one you flirted with. I was jealous because I want to be the one you notice.”

Jimin smirks, then pulls your face in quickly for a heated kiss.

His lips are just as plush, just as soft as you imagined. They’re puffy and sweet and he tastes like one of the treacle tarts you made that morning. He must have had one with lunch, and you find yourself addicted to the way he tastes with your creations on him. You wonder what he’d taste like with your arousal coating that tender, plump mouth.

He bites at your own lip and tugs, chucking under his breath as you mewl your desire at the slight hint of pain.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re angry like that,” he breathes as he presses his forehead to yours. “I nearly popped a boner while you were yelling at me. I could tell you were jealous, and it made me want you more.”

It’s hard to hear him speak so candidly—it makes you groan.

“Jimin—fuck,” you sigh. “I’ve been attracted to you since you walked into this goddamn place.”

He smirks and snags your lips up in another desperate, yet quick, kiss.

“I know. It’s why you didn’t want me to work here.”

You grumble after he pulls away, tired of the teasing and wanting nothing more than to stop talking and start doing.

“I didn’t like you because you assumed I wasn’t the owner.”

He smiles and rubs at your arms, a softer expression crossing his face.

“No, but I hoped you were.”

It’s silent for a moment and you let his words wash over you as he continues.

“I was attracted to your authority. I could tell you were important here somehow, just didn’t know in what way.”

You swallow your growing guilt. You had clocked Jimin entirely wrong.

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you start.

“Hey, hey, I already heard your apology, remember?” He smiles. “Although, I could think of a great way to mend the wounds if you’re interested. No pressure.”

His soft smile becomes a devilish grin instantly and your body lights with instant arousal.

“What did you have in mind?”

His lips press to yours again and you nearly lose yourself completely in his embrace. Your arms circle his neck and he holds you tight at your waist, before pulling away from you, yet again.

“I happen to be very good at creaming, if you’ll recall.”

You can’t hold back a snort of laughter, that quickly gets covered by Jimin’s hot lips, one’s he will not pull away from you any time soon.

“You want to, right here?” You ask as he trails a hot line down your throat.

“Yeah, do you?”

You vaguely remember Willow’s threat of not fucking in the kitchen, but find you can’t seem to care an ounce.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

Jimin needs to hear no more. He pulls you close and kisses you with the remaining amounts of pent-up passion and emotion he feels for you. He’s grown to love the way you take charge, the way you move through the building like you own the place—because you do. He loves the power you radiate and wants nothing more than to make you give up that power for a single night, to him.

“You wanna do this… all the way?” He asks, re-assuring himself that he’s not throwing himself at his boss.

“I want you, Jimin. I want you to bend me over this workbench and fuck me until I’m crying for more. Please.”

He grins and lays a hand on your neck, fingers tracing the gentle lines.

“I might not let you boss me around,” he warns.

“Take control.” Your eyes are blazing with need. It makes him smile, and he gives the moment a slight pause.

“Then, get on your knees and show me just how sorry you are for yelling at me.”

You’re sinking to your knees quicker than you can comprehend. Jimin is almost thrown at how instantly you caved and submitted to him. He watches as your eyes stay fixed on his and your hands work at the button of his tight jeans.

“That’s right,” he murmurs. “Right where you belong. No one else.”

You preen—heart warming at the idea that you’re the only one he wants kneeling before him and tugging his cock out of its confines.

It springs forward, and it pulls your gaze from Jimin’s magnetic eyes. It’s long and thick, just like you suspected all those nights with your vibrator stuffed where he should be. Your mouth waters at the sight and you lean towards it to mouth at it gently—pressing soft open-mouth kisses to the tip.

“Oh, shit,” Jimin gasps. Your fiery mouth feels like heaven on his cock. It’s something he’s equally dreamed about—spent many nights fisting his cock to the thought of you.

You take your time, licking tiny stripes around the head and down the shaft, until Jimin becomes weary of the teasing.

“Please, take it all.” His request is so genuine, so needy, that you’re loath to deny him.

He slips into your mouth with ease, slicked up just enough by your trailing kisses that he slides in and hits the back of your throat in seconds. His eyes close as he feels his cock-head hit the back of your throat—a tighter and more constricting feeling in your already impossibly tight mouth. It feels like absolute bliss, and he’s gasping for air after mere moments of you holding him inside your mouth to the hilt.

He doesn’t need to speak; you know what to do. Your mouth works him in and out, tongue swirling around any open real estate of his cock. His moans echo around the tile of the kitchen walls and he’s sure that the sight of you on your knees with his cock disappearing in and out of your mouth will have him cumming in no time.

He steels himself, makes his body behave because he wants to enjoy this and the way you feel. As good as your mouth feels, he’s desperate to know what it’s like to slide into that cunt he’s spent too many nights dreaming about.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as you make delicious, slurping noises from the gathering saliva. It’s a wet squelching sound that makes him even harder than what he believes is possible—all blood in his head now completely rushed to his dick for his pleasure.

“B-Babe!” He calls as he feels his balls tightening. He doesn’t want to cum, not yet.

He grips your head by the scalp of your hair and pulls you off his cock that is seconds away from losing control.

“Please, I’ve got to fuck you,” he nearly begs.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and smirk, licking the tip of his cock teasingly before standing up to his full height.

Jimin’s hands fly to your expensive leggings that you insist on wearing to work while he kisses you. The kiss is feverish, frantic. It’s full of tongue and teeth and desperate moaning against each other as he pushes down the pants and delicate panties, and cups your cunt in one hand.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as the pad of his finger slides against your clit.

“You’re fucking soaked. All from sucking my cock?” He’s cocky and sucks a mark onto your neck as he massages the bundle of nerves.

“Don’t be arrogant now,” you warn with a smile.

He presses his tongue to your ear and licks a stripe and chuckles.

“I think you like it when I’m arrogant. Your pussy sure seems to like it.”

He emphasizes his words by slipping two fingers into your channel and fucks into you, scissoring you open. He cuts off any chance for you to retort by launching his lips back to yours and prowling around your mouth with his tongue.

His fingers are small but fill you so deeply, and you’re sure his hand is drenched with your arousal.

“J-Jimin, please,” you gasp as you pull your mouth away to breathe in deep. “Please, just fuck me already.”

He growls into your ear.

“I thought I told you you’re not in charge.”

He spins you easily until your back is pressed to his chest. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts, throwing the shirt away and quickly making work of your bra clasps to join the shirt on the floor.

His hands cup your full breasts and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling of his soft and warm hands. He feels so good against the chilled skin of your chest and he tweaks and thumbs your nipples until they stand perky and erect.

“I’ve always wanted to bend you over this counter,” he muses in your ear as he pulls a nipple harshly. It makes you squeak out at the pain, then moan as the pain turns into a sizzling, pleasurable spike that runs through your veins.

“Every time I would catch you staring at me, I just wanted to fuck your cute little throat until you were gagging around me.”

Your eyes close as he continues his abuse on your perky nipples and whispering his deepest thoughts about you.

“I wanted to lift your cute dresses and eat your cunt until you’re wailing loud enough all the customers can hear.”

“Jimin,” you nearly cry. “Please, fuck me.”

You can feel his hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your sodden folds to cover his length in your slick juices.

“I like it when you beg.”

He kisses at the juncture of your neck before letting his teeth graze over the spot and bites down—right as he pushes your face down to the workbench and slides his cock into your spread heat.

He bottoms out easily. You’re soaking wet and he buries himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. He groans out loud—stunned by the heat and wetness of your pussy and how tight it grips him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he gasps as he gives himself and you a moment. His hands grip at your waist, one hand coming to rub the tender skin of your supple ass.

“Jimin, fuck, you’re so big,” you whine.

He brings his hand up, then slaps it down on your ass hard, hard enough that the crack echoes around the large kitchen. You cry out in delight, in pain, as the reverberation of the stinging wraps around you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess,” he whines as he sets a pace. Your ass meets his hips and claps with each thrust, and he punctuates every few pumps into you with another hard slap to your ass. He wants you screaming his name, crying out for him loud enough that the neighbors know who he is.

He’s relentless in his pumps—gripping your hips tight as he fucks you deep and senseless. Your eyes roll back into your head at how well he works your body. Your tits rub raw against the wood of the workbench and you’re weeping fat tears of pleasure as Jimin continues his plight.

“God, I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns. “Cum on my cock, princess.”

You slide a hand down to your clit, eager to add the ultimate piece to what makes you unravel. He grins and pumps into you harder, slaps your ass repeatedly until he knows it’s going to leave bruises.

“That’s right, baby, rub that pretty little clit,” he urges. “God, I can’t wait until you you sit on my face and let me eat this fucking cunt for hours.”

You blubber a response of desire, nearly begging him for more and more, as you swirl your fingers around the tight bundle. You’re peaking towards the summit of your climax, ascending to a point you’ve never gone before.

“Fuck, Chim!” You scream. “Gonna cum!”

Your warning falls on deaf ears—you’re cumming and pulsating around his thickness instantly and Jimin moans mix with your own to create a symphony of pleasure.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos. “Your cunt is so good to me, baby. Mmph—let’s frost this cake, now.”

Instantly, he’s groaning as he pulls his cock free from the vice-grip of your cunt and jerks himself twice to completion, allowing his hot seed to splatter against the tender flesh of your ass where he’s left a clear print of his hand. The warmth soothes the battered skin and you shake your ass teasingly as he continues to stroke himself through his climax.

“Ohhhhh, my god,” he breathes as he finally comes down from his high.

Your face is resting on the cool surface of the wooden workbench as your breathing slowly settles back to normal.

“That was fucking good,” you whisper with a smile. Jimin bends down to press soft kisses to your spine, before grabbing a towel to gently clean his cum off your beaten ass.

“Willow’s going to kill you for fucking me in the kitchen,” he warns with a laugh as he kisses the same spot he came on.

“It takes two to bake a cake, buddy,” you tease.

He laughs and brings a hand down to your untouched asscheek, making you squeal with delight.

“That’s not how the saying goes, but sure, doll.”

The next morning, you’re hard at work making a five-tiered wedding cake with Willow at your side, when Jimin throws open the door.

“Good morning to the loves of my life!”

Willow chokes on her own air while you hide a giggle behind your cake covered hand.

Jimin approaches the pair of you while she splutters and gasps.

“What?” What happened last night after I left?”

Your cheeks heat and Jimin wears a face of pure cockiness.

“Oh my god,” Willow gasps as her eyes open wide, snapping your tender ass with her rag. “You did NOT fuck in my kitchen!”

taglist - @preciouschimine @nyamjinnie @unicornnomore @bangtansbun @theneighborhoodfangirl @cyberbunny21

#bts smut #bts jimin #bts park jimin #park jimin smut #bangtanarmynet #jimin smut #bts fluff #bts au #bts alternative universe #bts jimin smut #heartsforbtsnet #ficswithluv #bangtan smut #bangtan jimin #park jimin #bts imagines #bts fics

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mirkosintern · 3 years

Text

Crawlin’ back to you

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut with a lil angst and fluff if you squint

notes: reader is a member of the lov, set in the meta liberation army arc (before the war!), possessive dabi, wowee this is my first work!! I never expected myself to be able to write a piece but here we are ehehe this was inspired by a certain tiktok actually. U may have already noticed but the title is from the song do I wanna know? by the arctic monkeys<3

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, cum play, dubcon-ish?, toxic relationship, degradation, vulgar language, alcohol

word count: 3k

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That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day Crawlin’ back to you Ever thought of callin’ when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through

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Dabi wasn’t one to do feelings. He’s screwed numerous women, but they were nothing more than some toys to fulfill his sexual needs. Neither did he want to have feelings, nor did he need to. Afterall, his side hoes who begged to stay with him even after all the degradation he’s given them disgusted him the most. He would snicker at their pathetic attempts and cut them off ruthlessly.

However, you were an only exception.

No, he did not have feelings for you, he swears he never did and never will. But you were different from his other disposable sluts--he kept you around. He didn’t ghost you, instead, he kept coming back. It is only because you’re a member of the lov as well, he thinks. You are easy to access since you’re always around the lov base, and he doesn’t even have to worry about getting caught by civilians or stupid bitches who suddenly decide to turn him into the police. You guys were practically co-workers with benefits, fuck buddies where the “buddies” part is questionable.

Dabi didn’t mind that he made an exception for you until that night. That very night where you sleepily decided to crawl into his arms after a rough round and whispered him how you loved the rough texture of his skin against yours. That very night where you pressed delicate kisses beneath his jaw. The moment of intimacy—making his heart pound and warmth spread beneath his cold skin—was threatening. You were threatening.

That’s where he cut you off completely. He did not knock on your bedroom door located in the lov base anymore. He stopped sending those “you up?” texts at 3am. He didn’t even lock eyes with you or talk to you anymore.

It feels as if something heavy dropped inside you, squashing your heart to the point where it’s painful. You try your best to ignore the pang in your chest and remind yourself that you guys were nothing more than co-workers with benefits. However, the enduring heartburn only functions to make you realize how attached you were to him. He’s Dabi, the biggest scumbag you will ever meet, what did you expect? What were you thinking? It should be no surprise this happened, right? But having to encounter his stupidly handsome face every day was not doing any help. You are a girl with dignity, you tell yourself, trying your best to ignore his strong scent of campfire and cologne drowning you every time you guys are in the same room.

The pain is suffocating you for weeks, and you finally decide to completely get over him. The night Dabi brings a bimbo to his room and fucks her loud enough for everyone in the lov to hear—for you to hear—you’re done with everything. You step outside, get drunk, do anything to numbify the pain the raven-haired guy has caused you, and even meet a nice-looking guy who seems to be interested in you.

You are doing good without Dabi.

You don’t need Dabi anymore.

You are not letting him get to your head.

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A party.

League of villains is all about privacy, but they also started having some fun after uniting with the meta liberation army. Now they had sufficient money, people and place to throw parties every now and then without the danger of getting caught by civilians. Afterall, a number of heroes were in their side as well.

“Not gonna lie, you guys do know how to host parties.” Keigo smirks, picking up a glass of bourbon whiskey. “It’s fuckin’ lame,” Dabi answers as he downs a glass of liquor.

“So, what happened with y/n?” Keigo throws a suggestive smile.

“The hell you mean what happened with her?” Dabi frowns.

“Y’know, didn’t you guys used to be a thing or something?”

“Nah, she was an occasional fuck and that’s it.”

“Oh really? The Dabi I know never fucks a same bitch twice though. I thought she was something special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, thought maybe you actually wanted her.”

A smug grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Never even liked her.”

“Have you seen her and her new boyfriend?”

The smile is quick to vanish from his face after hearing the word boyfriend. Dabi’s eyes widen, immediately glaring at Keigo. Before he could say anything, Keigo tilts his chin to point something.

“There they are.”

Dabi turns his head only to find you clinging onto some guy’s arm. Your cheeks are flushed –a pretty, pink glow on your face—as you bat your eyelashes at the guy. Bubbly giggles escape from your lips while you stare at him through half-lidded eyes. The guy’s arm is secured around your waists, pulling you closer to him.

Dabi sees red.

His entire body freezes as his grip around the liquor glass tighten. Dabi doesn’t say anything for a moment, but there is no way Keigo wouldn’t pick up how his cerulean eyes are flaming at the sight. “Well, I thought you knew.” Keigo pats Dabi’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t matter anyways right? You never liked her.”

“…Right.” Dabi takes another sip from the liquor, his eyes still fixed to you.

Keigo’s words are true; at least they are supposed to be true. Dabi didn’t have feelings for you. He doesn’t do romance. No feelings were ever involved with any of the women he’s slept with, and he made sure of it. It was so clear for Dabi without a question.

But why is it unable for him to erase the sight of you with some guy as he forces himself to sleep that night? Why are your sweet giggles echoing his head? Why can’t he get rid of the thought of you in that tight, black dress that perfectly complements the curves of your body? Why is the moment where the guy places his hand on your inner thigh replaying in his head? Why are thoughts of you messing with his mind?

“Fucking hell.”

Dabi gets up. This was fucking annoying. You were truly fucking annoying.

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You tilt your head to check the glowing digits of your digital clock on the nightstand. 2:15am. It’s late, and you haven’t even taken off the dress you wore to the party. You are too tired both physically and emotionally. You’ve done quite a decent job in entertaining the man who’s accompanied you through the whole party, but it was truly an energy-consuming task. You and him walked around as if you guys were the happiest couple in the party; but the truth is that you guys aren’t even properly dating yet. Solely because you have constantly been refusing to properly answer him asking you to be his girlfriend. It’s not that he’s bad looking or anything, but the idea of being with him just doesn’t sit right with you. Ever since you’ve met him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you without asking you anything about consent. You always had to pull his hand away with an uncomfortable smile, yet he never took a hint. However, when a dating rumor about you and him started and spread quickly, you didn’t try to correct anything. Maybe it was because you wanted to pull out a reaction from a certain villain. Maybe your unusual actions at today’s party; clinging onto the guy and laughing at every single word he spoke; was to make Dabi witness how happy you were.

Truthfully, you were dying inside.

What was even worse was that none of your attempts seemed to bring an ounce of reaction from Dabi. When have you become so pathetic and desperate? You feel tears welling up in your eyes, hot and burning, but you don’t want to cry. Not for an asshole like him. You take out your phone, find the guy’s name, and text him that you don’t want to see him anymore. You feel a little guilty, thinking that you may have used him to provoke something from Dabi, but your thoughts are too worn out for you to comprehend anything. You flop onto your bed and bury your face in your pillow. You huff out a deep sigh, and the soft texture of your cotton pillow feels warm on your cheeks. In all honesty, you were thinking about Dabi the whole time you were at the party. Whenever the guy’s hand creeped up your thighs or gripped on your ass, you imagined it was Dabi’s, trying your hardest to feel something from the contact.

You weren’t over Dabi. You never were. Realization hurts, leaving a sour feeling in your mouth.

Your body shoots up at the sudden, loud slamming sound emerged from your door. Your teary eyes widen at the lean man slamming the door shut. “Dabi?” You ask, not believing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Without an answer, Dabi’s one hand reaches for your throat as his other hand grips your wrist. His large body is towering over you, and you feel your bed shift as he dips one knee in the mattress. His sapphire eyes pierce through your soul, and you can feel his raging anger just from looking at him.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

“Dabi, what are you-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, pulling you in for a heated kiss. Your lips open reflexively, enabling him to deepen the kiss. The kiss is aggressive, and he doesn’t know whether it is because of his anger or his pent-up desires towards you that he has been suppressing. The kiss gets sloppier over time, hot and wet with saliva and tongue. He lets go of the grip on your wrist and starts tracing your inner thigh with his thumb, and you let out a soft moan. You finally pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but he doesn’t cease to caress your thigh. Instead, he lowers himself to your ear. “You seem to really love thigh touches, don’t you?” His low voice and hot breath brushing the shell of your ear sends chills down your spine.

“Huh?”

“I always knew you were a slut, but never knew you were this much of a whore. You would bend over any guy who offers you some touches, right?”

Tears swell in your eyes again at his vile words, but it’s hard to talk when his knuckles are repeatedly brushing your clit.

“I’m… not a slut…nngh.” Suppressed moans escape your lips.

“Yeah? Why are you making those sounds then?”

“Dabi…”

He yanks your dress up and dips two fingers inside your lace panties, making you let out a weak yelp. Dabi raises his brows with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, so she indeed is a slut huh? You get this fucking wet from a kiss?”

His two digits start pumping inside you, and you grip on his white shirt at the sudden sensation. Your gasps and moans get louder, and you suddenly feel his wet lips against your neck. Dabi sucks hard, making sure to leave dark purple marks from your jaw to your neck and shoulder, as he repeats the step of curling his fingers and pulling them inside and out your hole. “Dabi…too fast.” You whine out. “Yeah?” A sadistic grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Be a good slut and take what I give you.” His thumb reaches for your clit, making your legs shiver.

“Nngh…stop, I’m gonna… Dabi I’m gonna cum.”

“Stop? You want me to stop?”

“No!”

“Do you deserve it though?” he slows his pace while teasing your clit. “Beg.”

It’s humiliating, really—but do you have any other choice when you are this close?

“Please, Dabi… I’ll be your good slut. Please let me cum!” Your desperate cries have him pumping his fingers fast again, and soon you’re seeing white. Hot drops of release coat Dabi’s fingers as he pulls out.

“Say ah.”

“A-ah.”

You obey, and Dabi sticks his digits inside your mouth. Your mouth wraps around them immediately, sucking as if it’s a pacifier. “Good girl,” Dabi says as he pats your head, and it makes your stomach swoop with sick pride.

The bulge in his pants is becoming painful, and he contemplates on fucking your mouth. But he’s too impatient; He feels the need to abuse your cunt right now. He wants to hear your screams and cries as he proves who you belong to.

“Take that off.” Dabi gestures at your dress, and you start undressing as he demands. Dabi pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, causing his cock to spring out. It’s so pretty, you think, and you can’t help but admire his red tip, glistening with precum. He pumps his length a few times and lines it up with your entrance. You inhale a sharp gasp as you feel his whole length inside you. It feels so full; it feels as if he’s gonna split you in half if he starts moving.

“Ah, too big.”

“I know.” Dabi looks down on you. “Take it like a little slut you are.”

Before you could even talk back, he is moving inside you. Your moans blend with the noise of the bed creaking; a perfectly harmonized orchestra to Dabi’s ears.

You knew Dabi wasn’t one to prep you or go slow, but you feel like he’s going way rougher than usual. His wild thrusts have your head lolling backwards, and Dabi does not miss the chance to take a hard bite on your neck. You scream out of both pain and pleasure, and you feel two hot streams of tears on your flushed cheeks.

“Aww, she’s crying.” Dabi says in a mocking tone. “Bet you love the pain.”

Humiliation fills your chest and you turn your head away, but Dabi quickly grabs your chin with one hand, forcing you to directly face him.

“Who’s the one making you feel this full?” he asks.

“Y-you.”

“Did he ever make you feel this way?”

Wait, he? Who does he mean by he? Your alleged boyfriend? Could it be possible that Dabi was doing this out of jealousy? You try to comprehend, but it’s impossible for you to think clearly, not when Dabi is fucking you stupid. “No!” You shout.

Dabi’s free hand reaches for your clit and starts rubbing circles. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?”

“You…” You try to answer, but he suddenly lifts up your lower body and slams into your cervix in the right angle. It has you moaning even louder, your insides spasming around his cock.

“I can’t hear you.” He smirks sadistically.

“You, Dabi, it belongs to you! I belong to you!” You’re screaming his name like it’s the only word you know, making his cock twitch. “That’s right. You are all for me, all for me to use. Just a pathetic little slut for my cock.” A satisfactory grin appears on Dabi’s face.

Dabi lowers his body down and grunts directly into your ear as he thrusts even faster. The sound of his skin slamming into yours is so erotic, and you can feel how close you are.

“You wanna cum huh?” His words have you nodding frantically, babbling incoherent words. Yes Dabi—wanna cum so bad—wanna be yours—wanna be your good girl—please, dabi.

“Then do it. Make a mess on my cock.”

“Nngh, Dabi!” You scream out his name as euphoria washes down your body. His release follows you soon enough, painting your walls white. You feel warmth filling your belly while his groans echo in your ear. You’re still sobbing and panting after he pulls out, without any energy left to move. As your blurry vision starts getting clearer, you feel his warm skin and the sting of his cold staples against your back. His long arms wrap around your oversensitive body, pulling you closer to him.

“You’re messing with my head.” Dabi rests his forehead on the back of your shoulder.

“Huh?”

You’re confused, but Dabi doesn’t elaborate. His ego doesn’t let him do such thing.

“When you said you belonged to me, did you mean it?”

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to respond to his sudden question. Millions of unspoken words and feelings are hanging in the back of your throat, creating a huge lump. You swallow them all and spit out a question instead. “Do you want me to belong to you?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen at his unexpected response, butterflies fluttering inside your chest. “Be mine.” His low voice vibrates against your soft skin. Your heart melts at his words, and you cannot stop your feelings from overspilling anymore. At that moment you both realize; you and Dabi were meant to crawl back to each other, no matter how hard you both try and struggle.

“I’m yours.” You smile, “I’m all yours.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #todoroki touya x reader #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi lemon #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #dabi fanfic #dabi fic

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