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atrwriting · 9 months

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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

#corio smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #corio snow smut #corio fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #corio imagine #the hunger games #lucy gray #sejanus plinth #young coriolanus snow

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antiwhores · 5 months

Text

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

#i was gonna write more smut #but it was already too long #and thats out of character for antiwhores #part 2 maybe?#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki

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pynkfairyheart · 5 months

Text

pairings: Connie x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, mentions of drugs

Birthday girl

“Wassup mami.” Connie greeted, eyes trailing over your body, your curves on full display in your outfit. “You look good.” He licked his lips, eyes looking you up and down once more before enveloping you in a hug.

“Thank you, Connie.” You cheesed. His usual scent of weed, lavender, and sage fueling your senses.

“I didn't know you were gonna be here.” He leaned in close to speak over the loud music playing throughout the house.

“What do you mean? This is my celebration.” You giggled.

“Whatchu mean ‘your celebration’? Did I miss something?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It is my birthday Con.”

“Oh shit. Happy Birthday, mami” He hugged you again. “Why you ain't tell me? I woulda got you something.” He scolded.

“I figured you knew already because of Sasha. Plus you don’t need to get me anything. Especially since you never let me pay for my shit.” You rolled your eyes, though you were extremely grateful.

“Whatever. Ima get you something regardless.'' He kissed his teeth. “Is this your house?” He motioned to the large modern house, its lights dim and filled with your closest friends, loud music, liquor, and weed.

“It's my family's vacay home. Wanna tour?”

“Yeah, for sho.” Next thing he knew your hands were entwined as you showed him around the house. As the tour continued upstairs, Connie could feel the blood rushing to his dick. The sight of your ass peeking from your skirt as you walked up the stairs had him ready to get on his knees, and truth be told he didn't know whether it was to bury his face in between your thighs or ask to marry you.

“And then this is my room.” Your words brought him out of his trance.

“It's very you.” He walked around the room analyzing everything, from the pictures on your wall to the strawberry vanilla candle that was recently burned.

“In a good way?”

“Of course mami, everything about you is good.” He stood behind you as you took pictures in front of your large full-length mirror, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he posed with you.

“These are cute, Con” You gushed, as you swiped through the pictures.

“We look good together.” He mumbled.

“We do.” Your eyes locked. The energy shift was so quick you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “Connie?…”

Connie had wanted you craved you since that night you asked him if he sold pre-rolls. He didn't, but you were just too pretty to say no to. Since then, he longed for something more than what you already had.

He had planned on asking you to be his numerous times. From the first time you sat in his passenger seat where you gushed about how much you loved his car to just two weeks ago on your usual late-night drives when neither of you could tell if the sexual tension was due to the sativa or the breaking point of all the intense eye contact and not so subtle touches you shared the past month. Neither of you acted on it but it no longer mattered anymore, he had the opportunity right now and he was going to take it.

“Lemme make you feel good.” He broke the silence. Large hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

“What?” You instinctively leaned into him, thoughts going fuzzy.

“I know you heard me.” He muttered into your neck, light pink lips littering kisses onto your neck.

“C-Con, what are you doing?” You bit back a moan as he sucked harshly on the spot that had your knees weak and panties soaked.

“Be truthful, ma. You thought about this before or nah?” He pulled away from his assault on your neck, admiring the faint mark forming on your brown skin before looking into your eyes.

“What about-”

“Just a yes or no mami.”

“...Yes”

“Do you want to do this?” His hands traveled to grip the soft flesh of your ass through your skirt

“Please.”

“Then let me take care of you. You're the birthday girl after all.” He whispered before his lips were on yours.

The kiss started slow and passionate, before his hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you off the ground like it was nothing. The kiss became needy and sloppy. Saliva mixing as his hands roamed the area of your ass before gently placing you on the edge of your bed.

“Connie” You panted.

“You're so beautiful” He groaned, kissing down your body, his tongue running over your exposed cleavage before he unbuttoned your top.

Immediately his mouth was back on the soft flesh sucking gently on your nipple while he pinched and rolled the other.

“Fuck, Con” You whined, looking down into his hazel eyes that were staring you down. Releasing your nipple with a pop he gave attention to the other, his tongue rapidly flicking over the nub.

When he was finally satisfied with your whimpers and whines he let up his assault on your breast, peppering a trail of kisses down your pudgy belly before completely undressing you.

“You're so damn pretty. You know that?” He kneeled in front of you before separating your thighs. “Fuck”

Connie swore he could feel himself get lightheaded by how fast the blood rushed to his dick. The sight of your pretty pussy having him on the verge of cumming in his pants. Your pretty brown lips glistened with your arousal, the prettiest pink he'd ever seen peeking out between your folds the wider he opened your legs.

“Con.” You whined, cool air breezing against your clit.

“I got you, ma.” He gently kissed your clit. It wasn't long before he needed more, fingers digging into your thighs as his tongue traced the outline of your clit before dipping inside your folds, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked on the bud.

“C-Connie shit.” Your hands traveled to his head, long acrylic nails running over his buzzcut to hold his head in place.

Letting one leg fall he replaced his lips with his thumb, rubbing tight circles on your clit, as his tongue teased your hole before diving deeper. Your walls immediately clenching onto his tongue.

“Fuck pa, oh my god.” You whined, hips bucking as you tried to push his head away though it was no use. He was pussy drunk, his tongue relentless as it slurped up your arousal before diving back into your spasming hole. “Fuck, Connie m’cumming.” Moans spilled from your lips at your release.

Despite your shaky legs and attempts to push his head away, Connie continued to lap at your pussy, slurping every last drop of cum before lifting his head.

“You taste like fucking heaven.” He groaned, kissing your inner thighs before standing. Not bothering to wipe his chin of your cum before taking his shirt off. His flexing muscles and ink-littered torso had you feening for more. “Fuck, turn around, ma.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips before flipping you around.

Your back arched, head resting on your arms. Connie couldn't resist the way your ass looked, kneading the soft flesh before landing a slap to your right cheek, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“What's your safe word mama?”

“Red.” You looked back, the sight of him spreading his pre-cum that leaked from his angry pink tip making your mouth water. He was big, at least 8 inches, thick, and fuck, it looked so heavy.

“Shit, m’gonna fill you up mami.” He slid his tip in between your folds, gathering your slick before lining up with your entrance.

“S-shit.” Connie let out a shaky breath as he sunk into your tight walls. “Fuck, relax, ma.” He could barely get his tip in without you squeezing him tight. “Breathe mami. I got you.” He gripped your hips sliding deeper into your soaked pussy, tip kissing your cervix once he fully rested inside you.

“Con.” You moaned, nails gripping the sheets tightly.

“I know mama.” He rubbed slow circles into your hips as he started to feed you slow deep strokes “Doing so good for me, look.” He tilted your head to the mirror. Your ass ricocheting off his hips with each thrust he delivered, his pace increasing.

“Fuck, Connie, please.” You moaned over the loud sounds of your pussy sucking him in and the claps of your ass.

Your words encouraged him to go faster. His hand wrapped around your throat, the pressure he applied mirroring the way your walls tightened around him.

“Ugh- fuck keep doing that nd imma put a baby in you.” He groaned. He was so deep, stretching you to full capacity. The repeated kissing of your cervix, having you see stars.

“Con I'm so- mhmmp I'm so close.” Connie could feel his balls tighten at your words. You were so addicting.

“Yeah? Gon head nd nut, mami. Let it go.” His eyes focused on where your bodies connected, a white sticky ring forming around the base of his dick.

“Shiiit” You moaned into the mattress, your walls spasming around his dick as you came, your cum dripping onto the mattress.

“Fuck” He groaned, his release following right after yours. Thick ropes of cum being shot deep inside you. He continued to give you slow strokes to ride out your orgasms before pulling out. After taking the time to clean you up he got you settled in bed, the party long forgotten as he rubbed soothing shapes onto your hip, giving you soft sloppy kisses as you drifted off to sleep.

“Happy Birthday mami.”

pt.2

had to do something for my baby connie also ik fuck was used a lot im sorry lol buuuuttt i like to think I'm getting better at this but idk y'all tell me.

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 months

Text

He’s Not A Machine!

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: when dean collapses from exhaustion, it takes everything in you not to beat the shit outta john

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.0k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, john being a terrible father, john being an asshole in general but what else is new

pairing note: reader washes/brushes her hair

author’s note: hiiii me again after many moons of zero contact with this lovely website. sorry for taking so long, hopefully i’ll stay a while this time lol.

It’d been nearly four weeks of back-to-back hunts. This was the seventh motel you and the two Winchesters had been at this month and you were almost ready to call it a night.

“I’m gonna wash this wraith stench off of me,” you told Dean. You then added quietly so John—who was sitting at the table and cleaning his guns—wouldn’t hear; “Would you like to join me, handsome?”

“More than anything,” he whispered before he bent down and kissed you. John coughed loudly, and you weren’t sure if it was just a perfectly timed accident or a purposeful guilt trip. It was most likely the latter. “But… I think it’s better if I don’t, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly with a small nod; “Next time, then,” you assured him. You looked up into his eyes and noticed the tiredness laced with the usual burden he carried. He blinked unusually slowly as if he was trying his damndest to stay awake, and you furrowed your brows. “How about you head to bed, you can shower after you get some sleep.”

“It’s alright, I’m not that tired,” he said.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” you asked him, barely above a whisper so that John wouldn’t hear.

John didn’t like you. He didn’t really trust your intentions with his son, and he thought you were just a distraction that would end up getting Dean killed if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t like how easily Dean would get ‘all giggly’ when he was near you, and he didn’t like that his son kept his guard down when he was with you.

He didn’t like the matching rings you wore, or that you too often referred to the other as husband or wife when a stranger would ask. You weren’t married, you were his fucking girlfriend and John fully believed you wouldn’t still be together by the time Sam finished his first four years at Stanford.

“I’m fine,” he replied, matching your quiet tone. “I’ll shower right after you so don’t use up all the hot water, okay?” There was a teasing smirk on his face which made your worries subside temporarily.

“I promise to leave you some,” you said before you kissed him once more.

“Dean are you okay?” you asked, seeing the far-off look in his eyes when you left the bathroom.

“Yeah, I uh…” He rubbed his eyes as he tried to again focus on your face. He looked over at his dad, who raised a brow at his eldest son. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

You followed his line of sight and pursed your lips when you saw John.

“Dean says he’s fine, drop it Y/n,” he told you.

Against your better judgment, you decided not to ask Dean again. With your hair still wet from the shower, you took the brush from your bag and started fixing it.

“Aren’t you gonna shower, babe?” you asked Dean, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. He started to kick off his shoes when he tripped and fell straight to the floor, his cheek now pressed against the carpet.

“Dean!?” you exclaimed and hurried over to him. You fell to your knees and took him into your arms, shaking him gently in hopes he’d just wake up. “Dean? Dean, honey, please? J-John he’s not waking up!” You pressed your lips to his temple; “C’mon, Dean!”

John had left his spot on the couch and was now hovering over you, as you looked up at him desperately.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yeah,” you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. John helped you lay Dean down so he could check his breathing.

“He seems fine,” John deduced. “Is there a wound we missed or something?”

“W-We need to call an ambulance,” you said and rushed to grab your phone off the nightstand.

“Y/n, Dean wouldn’t want us to call the cops,” John replied. He seemed a little too calm for your liking, so you weren’t about to let him call the shots regarding Dean’s wellbeing.

“I don’t care, we’re getting him to the fucking hospital,” you said as you dialed and made your way back to Dean. “Now hide your goddamn guns before the paramedics get here—I need an ambulance at the Rosebud Motel room 302, my husband just collapsed unexpectedly.” You ignored the look John gave you when you called Dean that. The operator asked questions and you answered each one; “Yes, he’s breathing… No, no bleeding… He’s twenty-five… Uhm, I’m not sure…” You pulled the phone from your ear; “Has he had anything to drink yet tonight?”

John was putting away the guns and paused to think before he shrugged; “I dunno, I wasn’t watching.”

Your eyes widened and your teeth clenched, the fucking audacity. Looking at the table you saw three opened beers so you made an educated guess when you answered the 9-1-1 operator.

“He might’ve had a beer or two, but he’s not a lightweight, he’d never pass out after two beers… Yes, his dad is in the room with me… Yes, I can stay on the line.” You took in a shaky breath as you brought his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Just stay calm, ma’am, help is on the way.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept his hand pressed to your lips. “Th-This isn’t like him, he’s–he’s always okay.”

You bounced your leg anxiously as you sat next to John in the waiting room. As you absentmindedly played with the ring on your right ring finger, you couldn’t help but think of the time when Dean had told you how much you truly meant to him almost three years ago.

* flashback *

“I got you a present.” His smile was adorable as he sat next to you on the couch. He saw your face light up and felt the need to downplay the gift; “It’s nothing much, don’t get too excited.”

“Dean, you could give me a dirty sock and I’d love it,” you teased, placing a quick kiss on his pink lips.

“Well… this is like one teer above ‘dirty sock’, I think.” He smirked and handed you the small velvet box.

You opened it and your jaw fell open; “Oh my god, Dean!”

“I know how much you like mine,” he said quietly.

“I do like yous,” you took his right hand in yours and kissed the ring on his finger, “I love yours, Dean.”

“Well, this one is exactly like mine.” He smiled. “Except it’s in your size, obviously, so we can… you know… match.” You took the ring out of the box and admired it for a moment. You were about to put it on but he stopped you; “May I do the honors, sweetheart?” he asked. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you nodded and he took it from you. He slipped the ring onto your right ring finger before he kissed your hand.

“I mean this in the most genuine way possible; this is by far the best gift anyone has ever gotten me, Dean! Ever!”

A sheepish blush was forming on his cheeks as he leaned over and kissed your lips; “I love you so much.” He pulled away so he could look at you; “And, I want you to know this isn’t a regular gift.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your smile growing.

“Yeah,” he replied and kissed you again. When he pulled away again he chickened out a little and didn’t say what he was going to. “You’re twenty-one, which means you can now legally drink in all fifty states.” He stood up, pulling on your hand gently so you would follow him to the kitchen. He took two beers out of the fridge and put them on the table. He used the ring on his finger to easily open one then handed the other to you. “Why don’t you give it a try.”

It took you a few tries but you managed to open the beer using the ring he just gave you; “Okay, now that’s awesome!”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Dean said and you clinked your beers together before you both started drinking them. As he brought the bottle down from his lips, he watched as you kept drinking and smiled to himself. He suddenly felt the courage he felt when he bought the ring and decided to tell you his thoughts; “You know you’re the only girl for me, right?” You nodded with a smile. “I don’t just mean ‘for now’ I mean like forever. That’s the real meaning behind the ring, I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

You couldn’t help the happy tears beginning to sting your eyes as you looked up at him; “Forever?”

“Forever.”

* end of flashback *

You were shaken back to cruel reality by the sound of John’s voice beside you; “What’s taking them so long? We’ve gotta get back on the fuckin’ road.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you scoffed and looked at him. “Dean might be in serious trouble, and you’re thinking about the next hunt!?”

“Dean’s gonna be fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“We don’t know that,” you replied. You again started fiddling with the ring Dean had given to you.

“You know that ring doesn’t make you two husband and wife,” John commented.

You stood up abruptly, not wanting to say what was running through your head; Yeah, and Dean being so fucking perfect doesn’t make you a good father.

“Dean Smith’s next of kin?” the doctor asked.

“I’m his wife, this is his dad,” you said. “H-How is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” she replied. “He has a very minor concussion from when his head hit the floor, but he just needs some rest.”

“What happened?” John asked.

“He fainted from over-exhaustion, he’s gonna be okay.”

“Over-exhaustion?” You furrowed your brows, placing a hand over your chest. “B-But he’s been eating fine? A-And sleeping as much as me, I think?”

“Actually,” John interrupted, “he’s been helping me with research at night, he doesn’t sleep as much as you.”

Never in your life had you wanted to knee John Winchester in the balls as badly as you wanted to at that moment.

“How many hours a night are you sleeping, hun?” the doctor asked you.

“Like three to five… every other night,” you admitted. “And that’s always been enough! If it wasn’t, Dean could’ve just taken a nap he didn’t have to—fuck.”

“Can we see him?” John asked.

“He’s still asleep but yes, you can go and see him,” she replied.

On the way to Dean’s room, you kept wondering how this all happened—how did Dean get so fucking tied he collapsed!? If he was staying up at night, why didn’t he just sleep in the car? You would’ve happily driven Baby, and it’s not like you hadn’t done that before—Dean’s love language was sharing that fucking car.

“This hasn’t ever happened before, right?” you asked John.

“Never,” he replied. “Guess Dean’s just not as strong as he used to be.”

“Excuse me?” you seethed and stopped in your tracks, pulling John to a halt as well. “Dean is a fucking hero but he is not a machine, he’s a fucking human being who’s been treated like a soldier since he was six-fucking-years-old!”

“If you wanna say something, fucking say it!” John exclaimed.

“Oh, I am saying it! How fucking dare you work him so hard that he lands in the fucking emergency room!”

“We all know in this line of work, we have to do what we have to do!”

You slapped him hard across the face and your eyes widened when you realized what you did.

“Dean is your son,” you said, quickly changing your facial expression back into one of pure rage. “He is your fucking child and you’ve been treating him like shit for far too long. He deserves better, he doesn’t deserve to be so fucking exhausted that he collapses.”

You walked away and into Dean’s room. Seeing him lying in the hospital bed made your heart break as tears welled in your eyes.

“Oh god,” you mumbled. “Dean.” You quickly pulled up a chair so you could sit next to his bed and patiently wait for him to wake up. John did the same, though he seemed annoyed by the fact Dean was still asleep.

You weren’t sure how long had passed before John got fed up; “Can you press the button for the nurse so we can ask when he’s supposed to wake up?”

“I think we should just let him sleep, don’t you?” you whispered, not knowing if Dean had been sedated or if he was just resting like normal.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I told you to call the damn nurse,” he said, raising his voice which caused Dean to stir awake.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said groggily, his eyes half-hooded as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He then dropped your hand and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “This isn’t the motel,” he realized. He noticed John sitting at the other side of the bed and he sat up a little, trying to somewhat compose himself. “Wh-What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in,” John said. “Y/n, why don’t you go grab us some coffee so I can talk with my son?”

All your instincts told you not to leave the two Winchesters alone but what choice did you have? You didn’t want to start another fight with John, you were tired too, and you didn’t want Dean worrying.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. You took the time to bend down and place a loving kiss on Dean’s forehead, causing him to smile. “No coffee for you though, you need more sleep,” you told him before you left the room.

About ten minutes later you walked back in and the sight practically made your eyes bulge out of your skull as your jaw flew open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked and placed the two cups to the side.

“Dad said there’s a hunt,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “I can sleep in the car or something, let’s go.” He started to stand up so you pushed him back down.

“How fucking dare you!” you exclaimed at John, who stood on the other side of the bed. “How dare you tell him to suit up right now! He is staying here in this hospital, and he is getting some goddamn sleep!”

“That is not your decision,” John replied. “If Dean says he’s fine, then he’s fine.”

“You realize those are the exact words you said to me before your son collapsed, right?” you scoffed. “Dean lay back down now,” you told him as you began taking his boots off. “You are staying here for the night, you understand me?”

“Don’t you boss him around!” John exclaimed. “Dean and I are leaving here now.”

“You can leave if you want to, but Dean is staying put!” you replied, matching his tone.

“No, he is not!” John yelled.

You’d never fought with John like this, usually yelling and getting yelled at made your eyes tear up in the most inconvenient way. But this? Dean’s health? You were not about to back down. Not one single tear dared to appear in your eyes as you looked at John with such anger you wanted to slap him across the face… again.

“Why don’t we get a third opinion?” you suggested.

“Yeah, Dean, do you wanna sit here like a pussy or do you wanna go save some fucking lives?” John turned to look at him.

“Don’t answer that,” you said quickly. “I meant, let’s call the nurse and see what they have to say about it.”

Before John could protest, you walked over and pressed the button. It took half a minute—during which you and John stared daggers at each other—but soon the nurse walked in.

“How is everyone?” she asked, noticing the tension in the room.

“Do you think this young man here can leave yet? He’s doing fine and wants to go home,” John said.

“Let me check his chart,” she replied before doing so. “I would have to no, he should definitely stay here and get some much-needed rest.”

“Is there a doctor—” John started but you stopped him.

“Goddamn it John!” you scoffed. “He is not leaving!”

“You are not his fucking family!” John shouted, much louder than before. “I am! You aren’t his wife, you aren’t his sister, you aren’t his fucking mother—you are just his current girlfriend, and believe me that’ll fucking change in a heartbeat. You are not in charge of what Dean does, you are not family.” There was a short pause as your eyes brimmed with tears yet you refused to let them fall. John sighed and continued; “I am Dean’s father, I know what’s best for him, and I say he’s packing his things and getting the hell outta here.”

The nurse looked absolutely shocked, her jaw hanging open. The look John gave her made her hurry out of the room.

“Dad,” Dean said, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Dad, you can yell at me all you want, I’m your kid but…” He exhaled shakily as John turned to look at him with a frustrated look. “But you can’t talk to her like that, you just can’t. You might not think of her as family but that’s on you, she is a part of my family, Dad. And yeah, we might not be legally married or whatever but she’s not just my current girlfriend? She basically is my wife, we’re not just… dating?” Dean looked at his father with a sense of desperation, John just had to apologize and you could all drop it. Of course, John, being a stubborn bastard, held his ground and crossed his arms authoritatively. “I-If you aren’t gonna take back what you just said to her y-you can go on this next hunt alone.”

“Excuse me?” John scoffed.

“You heard me,” Dean replied. “She’s everything to me and I can’t sit idly by while you talk to her like that.”

“So you’re talkin’ back to me now? Like Sammy?” John asked. “Refusing to take orders?”

“This isn’t about me, Dad!” Dean said, his face twisted with guilt. “You know I follow any orders you give, that I’m quick to obey. But you saying Y/n isn’t family? I-I’m sorry but I can’t let that slide, Dad.”

John huffed and abruptly left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said to Dean the moment John was out of earshot.

“Me too.” Dean smiled sadly as you both wiped your eyes quickly.

“Why don’t we get these jeans off of you so you can be more comfortable?” you suggested patting his shin.

His brows shot up; “Really? Here? Now?”

“Dean, no!” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I meant comfortable so you can go to sleep!”

“Oh…yeah, that makes more sense.” His trademark cocky smile was back and that made your own smile return to your now tear-stained face.

“I’m serious about you staying put, you know.” You nodded toward his pants and he got the message.

“You can be real stubborn, you know that?” he laughed as he hurried and slipped his pants off. You folded them up and put them on the chair along with his belt. He shrugged off his jacket and you tossed it on top of where the pants sat.

“Get under the covers,” you said. He rolled his eyes playfully but he obliged nonetheless.

“Happy?” He smiled when he was comfortable in the bed.

You nodded; “I love you, Dean.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips, causing his smile to turn more genuine.

“Hey,” the doctor interrupted as she walked into the room, “Nurse Roberts just told me about the little outburst… everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, just a little misunderstanding is all,” you replied. “But it’s all settled—Dean’s staying the night.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said with a smile. “I’ve gotta be honest I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, clearly anxious about her statement.

“I just meant that your husband is very healthy,” she assured you; “I’ve never seen a young, healthy man like him just collapse from over-exhaustion.”

“First time for everything I guess,” Dean laughed nervously.

You glared at him; “Not funny, babe.”

“She’s right,” the doctor backed you up. “Now, whatever you’ve been doing recently that caused you to lose this much sleep, get this stressed you need to quit it right here, right now.”

“It’s our job, we can’t just… quit,” you said. “But I will definitely keep a closer eye on him from now on, make sure he’s getting enough sleep.”

“You can’t put this all on her, you understand me, Mr. Smith?” She looked at Dean before he nodded shyly. “Mrs. Smith you need to fix your own sleeping habits as well — if you both don’t smarten up and take better care of yourselves, you will definitely be right back here before the end of the year. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said.

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, I’m gonna give you a small dose of a mild sedative to help you fall asleep, alright?” She said as she made her way over to Dean’s IV bag to give him the sedative. “You ripped this out the second you woke up, didn’t you?” She asked him when she realized the needle was no longer in his arm. “You two, I swear!” She started preparing to simply inject Dean with the sedative but you stopped her.

“Is there maybe like a pill equivalent to what you’re giving him? He doesn’t really like needles,” you said.

“There is, would you prefer that?” she asked Dean, and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, I’ll go and grab that for you then. Mrs. Smith the chair in the corner folds out into a small bed if you two don’t want to share one.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m not tired,” you said.

She gave you a look; “Seriously? Hun, what did we just talk about?”

“I get that, but I know Dean’s not gonna sleep properly if he doesn’t feel safe.”

“This is a hospital, it’s safe,” she said.

“Sorry,” you said with a small shrug, and again she sighed.

At that moment, John decided to walk back into the room, making your breath hitch a little before the doctor left to get the meds for Dean.

“It’s alright, you two get some sleep; I’ll keep watch,” he said as he made his way over to the chair and sat down.

“You sure, dad? I thought you said there was a job nearby?” Dean asked.

John looked at you and smiled ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was something you had said to him, maybe John didn’t want you being alone with Dean while he was so weak, or maybe there never was a job and he didn’t have anything better to do than stay with his son.

For whatever reason, John Winchester sighed and answered; “You’re more important, Dean. Your safety is more important. Now quit whining and get some sleep.”

Dean pulled the covers back, silently asking you to join him in the bed and, of course, you obliged. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before getting comfortable in his arms.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple.

“I love you more,” you replied, making him let out a soft laugh.

“You always gotta one-up me, huh?” he chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” you giggled. His arms tightened around your frame as he tucked your head under his chin. John couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for treating not only you but his own son so poorly. Every time John saw Dean be this relaxed and happy, you were always the cause. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

By the time the doctor got back about seven minutes later, you and Dean were both fast asleep; the latter letting out snores that gently moved your hair with each breath. She smiled a little at the sight and decided to duck back out of the room so as not to wake you two.

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luveline · 3 months

Note

I absolutely adore your Spencer x Hotch!sister fics! <3 Can we possibly see the dynamics if it were switched? A Hotch x Spencer's Older Sister fic, pretty please? But no worries if not! Thank you, hope you have a good day!

Was Spencer’s sister always this shy? Hotch can’t remember (and he can’t stop himself from flirting, just a little). fem, 1.4k

“Reid?” Hotch asks.

Spencer grins at his phone.

“Reid.” Hotch clears his throat. “Spencer.”

Spencer puts his phone down on the desk, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Hotch either way. When he realises Hotch is standing by his desk, he perks up. “Hotch, can I ask a favour?”

Hotch had been about to ask Spencer a favour, but it’s fine. “Sure.”

“Uh, my sister is supposed to meet me for lunch in half an hour, but she doesn’t really like restaurants and I’m– me. Do you think she could come to the office?” he asks.

“Sure, Reid. That’s fine, she just needs a visitor card.”

Hotch can’t remember the last time he saw you. Probably when Reid first started tailing Gideon a few years ago, when you’d made the trip from Vegas to Quantico to see how he was settling. It was a brief introduction, and, while you may possess a few more practical graces than your brother, you were far shyer at the time. You didn’t mind shaking Hotch’s hand, but you struggled to maintain eye contact after.

You don’t look much like your brother for reasons he’s never cared to ask, as Hotch has never placed much value on how family comes about. He doubts Spencer does either. But you stay in Vegas with your mother, and Spencer sees you three times a year. Birthdays and Christmas. And today, apparently.

“What’s the occasion?” Hotch asks.

Spencer smiles again. “I think she’s gonna move here, with me.”

“Yeah?” Hotch isn’t the prying boss, but he’s a nosy friend. “Everything okay?”

“Things are great, I mean.” Spencer has the expression of someone deciding what they can and can’t say. Eventually his eyes clear, and Hotch feels satisfied at the realisation that trust has settled tightly between them. “When I decided my mom needed help, Y/N, she hated that, and maybe she resented me, but– I used to worry she hated me, but she doesn’t.”

“I don’t think she could,” Hotch says easily.

Spencer nods. Whether he agrees is up for debate, though. “If t’s finally hit her that mom’s sick forever, so she’s feeling out her options.”

“That must be a hard thing to realise.”

“Yeah. But things really are great, she’s here now, her stuff is coming tomorrow, and– and maybe she’ll stay for a while.”

Hotch likes excitement on Reid (when it doesn’t impede their most important work, that is). Truthfully, there’s so much to worry about that Hotch can’t admit to worrying about Reid as much in recent years, and yet he’s relieved to hear that there will be more Reid’s in a hundred mile radius.

“I’m glad,” Hotch says honestly. “She’s more than welcome here. If she can cope with the photographs in the conference room, the round table is all yours.”

Hotch retreats to his office and forgets about it for a while, submerged in his own lunch and a certain seven year old’s birthday planning. Jack wants a clown, and a cake with Cars, and he really wants a bounce house. Which is great, but Jack decided he wanted the bounce house last night, and his party is at the end of the week. Hotch makes a bunch of phone calls and finally gets to take a victory lap forty five minutes later.

He steps out of his office, enticed by the sound of laughter. Spencer laughs like he’s surprised ninety percent of the time, and yours is no different. It’s clear to the listening ear who taught Spencer how to laugh.

“I love it, I don’t ever want to hear a bad word about it,” you say through peels of it, a breathy, smiley warmth to you as a chair creaks from within the conference room, “and I mean that. Please don’t tell me any facts.”

“I know so many you’d like to hear!”

“I don’t doubt it, but please, as a favour? You can tell me about everything else.”

“Processed cheeses–”

Hotch turns the corner as you put down a sandwich. “Okay, fine. I’m done, are you happy?” you ask, your smile fading into a more polite one as you meet Hotch’s eyes.

“I didn’t get to say anything.”

“Some things are better left unsaid,” Hotch says. He doesn’t interrupt, only says it into the quiet, and he doesn’t bother with fanfare. It’s just to alert Spencer of his presence. “Y/N,” Hotch adds, “hello. It’s good to see you.”

He’s alarmed by your reaction —your eyes widen in your seat, hands hidden beneath your thighs, and your lips part ever so slightly. “Agent Hotchner,” you say softly, almost weakly.

He’s not that intimidating, is he?

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says.

“You’re not interrupting, I was just telling her about the dangers of processed cheese. They’re so irregularly salty that the sodium has to be marked as a cause of heart disease on FDA approved packaging for the service industry,” Spencer says.

“I’m sure some every now and then won’t hurt,” Hotch says, attempting to offer you a friendly smile. “Spencer tells me you’re staying here for a while, that’s great. How are you liking the weather? It must be a change from Nevada?”

You look peculiarly hot. “It’s different,” you agree.

Voices ring from the bullpen.

Spencer stands up. You stand with him, but Spencer says, “Sorry, is that Morgan? He said I have to go and get him when you’re here.”

“Spencer–”

Spencer’s already leaving. “He threatened me, actually,” he’s saying, more to himself than either of you as he departs.

You wring your hands.

Hotch worries his brows are giving him away. You’re acting strangely, but maybe he’s too much. He is a special agent, sometimes the other parents at Jack’s school get antsy around him like they’re worried he can tell they haven’t paid their last parking fine. Maybe you’ve a secret crime you’ve committed.

He watches you more closely, to your flustering.

No crime, Hotch thinks, but a secret. Even from Spencer.

“So how’s your day, Agent Hotchner?” you ask softly.

It’s actually quite sweet, the way you say it. Your nerves are cute.

“Busy.” The expected answer. “I’ve been trying to plan a birthday party between paperwork.”

“For Jack?”

He smiles with more gentleness. “Yes, for Jack.”

“He was, um, a newborn, when we last met. Just a couple of weeks old, I think. How old is he turning now?”

“Seven.”

You breathe out. “Wow. Seven years.”

Seven years, and your crush on him remains. That’s what he’d forgotten —when you visited Spencer at the time, even Gideon had mentioned your frazzled, almost dizzy disposition whenever Hotch was around. And Gideon tended to focus narrowly on work at work, so Hotch had known he wasn’t making it up.

At the time it had been cute, but awkward too, and infeasible. He’d been dedicatedly married and in love with his Haley. And if he weren’t, your age gap might’ve been a little non-functioning, Hotch well into his thirties, and you a fresh twenty-five.

Today you’re older, and more beautiful. Something about you has shifted, a blossoming into your features, and Hotch actually has the ability to notice it now.

Your Spencer’s sister, he remembers suddenly. Probably not a woman he should flirt with, some subtle compliment lost on his tongue.

“You look the same,” you say.

He laughs. “That’s kind and untrue. I’m getting old.”

The look you give him then is a shock and a pit, long the long forgotten twist of butterflies. “No,” you say, looking down at your hands, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What would you say?” he asks.

You’re saved —poor girl, he doesn’t know what he was thinking, you can barely hold your head up— as Morgan bounds up the stairs and into the conference room. He gathers you for a hug as though he knows you better than he does, and Hotch loses sight of your face.

Unknown to him and unseen, Morgan’s greeting is white noise. Why does he talk like that? you think to yourself desperately. He’s asking you all those questions with this weight to them, and he’s so calm! I’m going back to Vegas.

“How long are you staying?” Morgan asks.

You laugh weakly and accidentally catch Hotch’s eye, who smiles at you nicely.

“Oh, I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe.”

Longer, if you have reason.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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mattybsgroupie · 3 months

Text

tape | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing, fighting; established relationship; oral (m receiving); spanking (f receiving); degradation; p in v; creampie; use of “y/n”; dom!matt

- ♡ -

notes: posting this and another one later this week in celebration of almost 600 followers. so thankful for this community and for every single person that enjoys my writing (but if one gets more likes than the other im KILLING MYSELF) <3 not proofread blablabla hope you enjoy i love y’all so so much

- ♡ -

“y/n!” matt slammed the door shut, loud voice taking over the kitchen, where i was peacefully sitting. “are you fucking dumb?!” he hissed at me, throwing his phone on the table.

“wow, chill” i said, frowning my eyebrows, confused look in my face. “what are you talking about?”

“what did you do with our camera’s flashcard?” matt crossed his arms, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground. my mouth hung open, but no words came out of it. matt looked so angry, and i knew i had cause us trouble. as i kept searching on my mind, he screamed once again “fucking tell me!”

“i don’t fucking know!” i hissed back at him, throwing my hands in the air. “i changed it the last time, i told you we were out of memory but i don’t remember where i put the other one!”

“oh you don’t?” he narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to me and removing a tiny object from his pocket. he showed me the flashcard, holding it with his thumb and index right at my face. “what about leaving it on this fucking table next to nick’s work stuff?”

my eyes widened. “matt i-i’m so sorry, fuck” i stuttered, realizing what i had done.

“you’re sorry now? after nick saw everything? we have so much shit here y/n, for christ’s sake!” matt kept holding the memory card, free hand running through his hair as he tried to calm himself down. “he saw your naked pictures, he saw mine! there are compromising videos in here y/n, can you imagine if he had uploaded any of them by mistake?”

“matt, please” i got up, walking closer to matt and resting my hand on his chest. “babe, i didn’t mean it, i’m really fucking sorry.” he looked away, scratching his freshly shaved beard.

“sometimes i think you’re asking for it, you know?” he said grabbing my wrist. “you fucking want our pics to get leaked, so that way everyone can know how much of a slut you are”. matt finished, pulling me to his room as he walked, grip in my skin getting stronger.

he slammed the door once again and pushed me on his bed, my breath turning heavy from his sudden change of behavior. matt went next to his computer, grabbing our camera. it was one of the first cameras the boys ever used to record their youtube videos, and nick gifted it matt after they changed to a new, more modern equipment. matt opened the video screen and turned it on, green light signaling he had started recording.

“take your shorts off” he demanded and i knew i could no longer run from my punishment. i kept sitting, slowly removing the cloth down my legs, kicking it away with my foot. i was wearing pink panties and a t-shirt i borrowed from him, not looking my best.

“you wanted this so bad, didn't you?” he asked, positioning the camera on the nightstand. matt sat next to me, but only to pull my legs over him. he turned me over, my belly now resting on his thighs and my head falling down, only my left arm resting on the mattress. i opened my mouth in disbelief, my calves trying to move away from him somehow.

“what are you doing?” i asked, trying to at least get a bit more comfortable in that position.

“giving you what you wanted” matt said, his arm locking my legs together while the other one held me by my breasts - at least my head wouldn’t be spinning. one of his cold hands smacked my ass, the sudden contact making me choke on a moan. i could feel matt’s grin growing wide as he palmed my skin, preparing me for another slap.

“fuck!” i groaned as the burning sensation started. i knew matt didn’t actually want to hurt me, he rubbed my butt after each smack, soothing the tingles i felt as my blood started to run faster.

“matt- please” i tried to speak, but another spank interrupted me. “behave, yeah?” matt whispered in my ear and pointed to the camera. “everyone’s gonna see how much of a fucking slut you are. can’t even take a punishment, right?” he teased, long fingers now travelling between my buttcheeks, brushing lightly over my panties. matt pressed his digits harder over my cunt, feeling the wetness there “soaked already?”

i looked away, trying to cover my embarrassment with my hands - it was humiliating, my ass in the air being spanked by matt after a mistake i didn’t even mean to make. “you’re fucking embarassed? can you imagine how i was after nick gave this to me? my brother saw everything, your dirty whore” he didn’t stop the slaps, and i couldn’t stop whimpering as his hand kept on marking my skin.

“ah!” i cried once more, until he two other spanks were enough. matt gave a kiss on each of my senstive buttcheeks and tossed me out of his lap, getting up and standing in front of me. he grabbed the camera once again, turning the screen so that only him could see what he was filming. my face was burning red and i was already exhausted. matt looked at me, rising his eyebrows, wide grin on his face.

“come on” he said, zooming the lenses on me. “you’re gonna look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock”.

i gulped, quickly nodding and moving my hands to his belt. i had barely unbuckled it, but i could feel matthew’s impatience growing. i pulled matt’s pants down along with his underwear, revealing his hardened dick. matt moved the camera to show off his own length, eager for me to touch him, even when he was the one in charge.

i wrapped my fingers around his shaft, veins pulsing in my palm. i brought my mouth closer to his tip, lips wrapping around the sensitive area as i received a groan in response, matt finally getting some relief to his aching cock. i couldn’t fit him entirely - matt was huge - so both of my hands started pumping the missing part as i moved my head down.

i heard matt chuckling, delighted with the view of my teary eyes begging for him. he started to slowly move his hips forward, trying to thrust his leaking dick inside of my throat. one of his hands went to my hair, already messy and tangled, in order to set my pace as he pleased.

i mumbled on his cock, asking if i could please, please, please, take a breath. of course, no words came out, my muffled voice only sent vibrations and warmth to his length which made him push his cock forward in my mouth, making me gag.

i could feel the saliva running down the sides of my lips when i softly tapped matt’s thigh and he slowly removed his cock, realizing he might have been a little too rough. i coughed, catching my breath as he pouted at me, faux sympathy showing by the lust in his eyes.

“can’t you take anything?” he asked, tugging the hem of my - his - shirt. “you cry when i spank you, you can’t even blow me properly… weren’t you supposed to act like a good slut?” matt said, helping me remove the white cloth, exposing my breasts. my nipples had been poking through the shirt from a long while, but only now matt decided to zoom in on my nubs. i caught him licking his lips as i positioned myself further on the bed, showing off my body to him. my fingers around as his followed from my neck to my collarbones and down to my tits as i teased my hardened nipples with my own digits.

“so pretty” matt whispered so low i wouldn’t have heard it if i wasn’t paying attention to his lips. “on fours” he said in a serious tone, making my pussy clench.

i turned my body over, standing on my elbows and knees, sticking my ass out as he placed himself on the bed with his knees behind me. matt’s cold fingers touched the waistband of my panties, slowly pulling it down my legs as he filmed everything.

he grabbed his own cock and pumped a few times, spreading the pre-cum along his length before dragging his dick between my buttcheeks and moving it down my cunt, lazily rubbing my folds, not really trying to fuck me. after teasing me a bit more, matt quickly put the camera back on his nightstand, now filming both of us.

matt placed his digits on my entrance, pressing my wet hole with two fingers. he slowly started to push in, but didn’t go all the way, pulling out when he saw me biting my own lips. i whined in protest - i needed him to fill me up. “fucking shut up” he spoke in a lighter mood than in the beginning of the night, showing that he was now just as needy as me.

his hands rested on my hips, holding it tight as he gradually buried himself inside of me. his pre-cum and all of my juices made it easier for matt to slide in, quickly stretching my walls and not giving me time to adjust to his size before pounding into me. “gosh- matt!” i moaned, throwing my head back as my cunt throbbed.

“always so tight for me” he said, hovering his body over mine. his chest was almost glued to my back, one of matt’s hands holding my jaw so he could kiss me. “who owns that pretty cunt, huh?” matt asked, my mouth hanging open as i could no longer stop my gruntings “y-you! ah-”.

“my fucking slut” he kept on talking while jointing his hips forward, cock finally hitting my spot. “only mine”.

“yes matt, fuck!” i pleaded, feeling my cunt clench its own walls against his dick. “i’m gonna cum, please!”

“don’t you fucking dare coming before me” matt said as his thrusts turned sloppier, trying to reach his orgasm. “f-fuck, taking me so well” he groaned loudly, palm once again meeting my ass as he slapped my skin. suddenly, i felt matt’s release filling me up completely, his sticky spurt leaking down my thighs as he finally allowed me to cum as well. my whole body trembled as my orgasm washed over me, my chest panting heavily, letting my head fall on the mattress.

matt slowly pulled out of me, lying down by my side as he came back from his high.

“are you okay?” matt asked, his hand resting on my back while i still recovered. “was i too rough?” he caressed my skin and i could feel the concern in his voice starting to show as i didn’t say anything in response.

“i’m never” i started, still out of breath. “losing the fucking card again”. i heard matt chuckle as he moved his other arm further, trying to reach the nightstand. he grabbed the camera and placed it next to my face. “say hi, pretty”

“hi pretty” i joked, matt giggling before turning the lenses to himself and winking to the video, pressing the finish button and closing the video screen. “and yes, babe. i’m okay” i assured him. “im sorry for being irresponsible and-“ he cut me off with a kiss. as he pressed his lips against mine, i realized he was no longer mad at me, and i could finally let myself relax.

“by the way” he spoke, throwing the camera on his side of the bed “you can leak this one” i giggled, hugging him, both of us acknowledging we could never - ever - lose this flash card again.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @marselise @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt x y/n #dom!matt #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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fueledbysano · 10 months

Text

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓!

welcome! here at rent-a-boyfriend, we understand that everyone has unique needs and desires, which is why we signed up a roster of men to fit your preferences! whether you want to piss off your ex or need a date on that company event, our team of charming boyfriends are waiting for you!

♱ ft. chifuyu, baji, ran, rindou, hanma, shinichiro, wakasa

♱ content: fake dating, fluff, humor, romance. [ wakasa's: suggestive ].

♱ a/n: a lil warmup for everyone whom I wish I've written more of! a little idea I got while working on commissions so I'm indulging in it.

𓆩♡𓆪 our taglist of loyal customers: @iluvizana @livefromnc @scoobydoofruitsbacks @moon-byeol2001 @vivid-orchids @slqttttt @awkwardaardvarkforever @cawwn @silphyl @chunkygirl07 @keenkittenstrawberry @m4nj1ro1 @reiners-milkbiddies @mysouleaten @souyaddiction @saenora @smutbae @fuyuswifey

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Chifuyu Matsuno | 26 | PET SHOP OWNER | 5’6 | LOYAL

Jokingly entering a lottery for a luxury couple’s cruise, you were surprised to receive a notification saying that you were the lucky winner! You now have to find a “spouse” for the trip. You’ve considered your friends, but all of them probably have commitments already. And then on the day of the cruise, Chifuyu greets you with flowers. He was so much cuter and in front of you. You settled into your luxurious cabin and began the journey.

On your first night, you tried the fancy dinner aboard the ship, shared your favorite dishes and chatted about your childhood memories associated with food. It struck you when he mentioned he was formerly a gang member, as he certainly did not look like one. you also bonded over your shared love of animals and memories of having owned pets as children, while Chifuyu told you all about the interesting things about these pets.

You also enjoyed a masquerade ball; Chifuyu was not the best dancer but he was so gentle with his movements. He was nervous at first, unsure how to navigate the party, but with your guidance and reassuring touch, he gradually relaxed and even started to enjoy the activity. You took the lead, taking him to the rhythm. With your hands on his shoulders and movements in synchrony with his, you glided across the dance floor, lost in the music and in each other's company just like dinner. Chifuyu was impressed by your confidence and grace on the dance floor. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for that.

After a long day of exploring the ports and enjoying the activities on the cruise, you decided to unwind at the couple's spa. On the way there, the two of you even came up with a fake love story in case the masseuse asks— you were high school sweethearts. Inside the spa, you settled into adjacent massage tables, holding hands and enjoying the deep tissue massages that the spa offered. The oil worked its magic onto your bodies, and you turned to Chifuyu, who seemed to be holding his laughter from being ticklish. You smiled at him and chuckled as you made eye contact, letting him know that you didn’t mind. You couldn't help but notice Chifuyu's toned body. His toned back and arms were on full display, you felt yourself being attracted to him in a way you hadn't been before.

As the week went on, you and Chifuyu continued to learn more about each other while also participating in the cruise activities, all while pretending to be a couple. By the end of the cruise, Chifuyu couldn't deny the connection he felt with you, and he was surprised by the depth of his feelings for someone he had only just met. It was then that he realized that despite being the one who was rented for the vacation, it was he who truly rented your heart. So when you visited his pet shop, he couldn't deny the connection you had and was happy to see you again. It’s against the rules of the rent-a-boyfriend services, but he does not need that anymore and so do you.

Baji Keisuke | 26 | VET | 5’9 | TSUN-TSUN

As you prepared for your family's Christmas trip, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Your relatives were constantly badgering you about finding a partner, and the pressure to conform to their expectations was starting to wear you down. That's why when you heard about a service that could provide you with a pretend boyfriend, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to get your family off your back and enjoy the trip without the constant constant nagging.

When you met Baji, you were surprised at how charming and easygoing he actually was. He was exactly the kind of guy your family would approve of, and he was happy to play the role of your boyfriend. Both you and your family were struck by how handsome and charming he was. His tall, lean figure and stunning eyes made him look like a model, but his warm smile and how gentle he was with your family made him seem accessible and likable.

You found yourself growing nervous as the time went on, but Baji was quick to pick up on your discomfort and put you at ease. He asked questions about your family and interests, and he made you a drink before settling into your room for the night. Baji then joked and laughed about things your parents have told earlier, making sure to give you a sense of ease and comfort with him. After all, you will be going on a trip together. You knew that you were both putting on an act, but you couldn't deny his potential of being an actual partner.

So the trip began, Baji proved to be a great choice. He was friendly and outgoing, easily striking up conversations with your relatives. He quickly became a favorite especially to the children in your family, who were drawn to his playful nature and witty banter. He spent time playing with them, telling jokes and stories, and generally being a fun and engaging presence. He was so good at interacting with the children that they started calling him "big bro Baji". He simply made a positive impression on everyone. He even went out of his way to compliment the cooking and offer to help with luggages, and making sure that everyone was taken care of, especially you, even if it meant putting himself in second place.

On the last day of the trip, you find yourself wondering how he was so good at handling family members, and he was more than happy to explain that he had a close relationship with his own mother growing up. He also said that in his career, he had come to see his animal patients as members of his own family. He described how he would take the time to get to know each animal individually, talking to them in the veterinary clinic and taking them out to play and explore. He told you that he believed that the key to understanding and connecting with other beings was to see them as unique individuals, just like people.

You did miss Baji after the trip. He had made such an impact on your family members, especially the children, that he was brought up in conversations even after he was gone. Your parents asked about him, and his absence was noted by the young ones who had grown so fond of him. You found yourself thinking about him often and wondering what he was up to. The trip had been such a special experience for you, and you felt grateful for the time you had shared together. Even though your relationship had been temporary and arranged, you found yourself wishing that you could see him again and continue your connection. So when you called him up for a “rental” again, it was to your surprise when Baji answered with “Don’t worry, this one’s on me.”

Hanma Shuji | 28 | PHOTOGRAPHER | 6'4 | DAREDEVIL

You have been struggling to keep your ex-boyfriend at bay. Despite repeatedly asking him to leave you alone, he would still find a way to contact you, whether through social media or by showing up at your workplace or at your apartment. You were worried about the situation and wanted it to stop, so you decided to hire a pretend boyfriend to make your ex-boyfriend back off. You chose Shuji Hanma, a 28-year-old photographer with a charismatic and handsome look. He also had a rebellious streak that made him perfect to play the role.

Hanma's stylish motorcycle added to the spectacle of his arrival at your apartment. As you rode away, you noticed that your neighbors were staring, probably wondering who the mysterious man on the motorcycle was. It was the same case when you arrived at your workplace, your colleagues were equally curious about the identity of the mystery man who waited for you at the lobby.

Hanma was engrossed in his work in the lobby, concentrating on editing his photos on the computer screen. He noticed the faint sound of footsteps approaching. The sound grew closer, and Hanma looked up to see your ex-boyfriend walking towards the seats. Hanma was not impressed, and he almost immediately approached him. “Hello, I'm Shuji Hanma. You are…?”

“Uhm, Touri—desu.” He was confused, but shook Hanma’s hand anyway, which he regretted… Hanma’s grip was undeniably strong, which turned his skin to crimson. “You new here, huh?” Hanma tried to remain cool. “Eh, not exactly.” The guy shrugged, and Hanma scoffed and took his belongings. “Well, I'll be on my way.” He headed to the receptionist and spoke loud enough, “Good afternoon, can you please deliver a message to my girlfriend, Miss [ L / N ]? I have our lunch~” This was enough to grab your ex’s attention, and he was visibly confused and angered.

Hanma immediately escorted you off the elevator when you arrived, letting you know of your ex’s presence as he protectively put an arm around you. Which seemed to work, because he was only angrily standing there with a piercing glare. Hanma was inarguably intimidating with his fierce eyes and tall height. As you sat together for lunch, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. You knew that your ex-boyfriend was watching from a distance, witnessing you having a wonderful time with another man. Hanma also appeared to be enjoying the situation, and he kept up his loving and affectionate demeanor throughout the meal, like Hanma taking your hand and kissing it, feeding you, and simply looking like a real couple. When in reality, you were also talking about your day so far and telling each other about the usual get-to-know topics.

After you walked out the restaurant together, your ex stepped forward and started yelling about how you could move on and replace him. “And with this twig?! Come on [ Y / N ], is this the best you got?” He chuckled and attempted to reach your arm. As he continued his tirade, Hanma lost his patience and punched him in the face. You were shocked at your pretend-boyfriend's sudden burst of violence, but you had to admit that it was somewhat satisfying to see your ex take a hit. Hanma quickly pulled you away from the scene and kicked your ex’s stomach. “Who’s the twig now? If I see your face again, I'm going to break every bone in your body.” He spat and then led you back to your apartment.

Once you were inside, Hanma apologized for his behavior and assured you that he only wanted to protect you. Still a bit shaken, you knew that Hanma had been there for you, and he did his role perfectly. You forgave him for resorting to violence and appreciated how devoted he had been to you with a generous tip, to which he answered, “I’m not leaving without making sure that guy never comes back.” You were taken aback when he took a seat on the couch by your front door. “And don't worry about the rent thing ♡” He winked. You were pretty sure he just enjoyed beating your ex, but you got yourself a pretty damn good fake boyfriend/guard dog.

Rindou Haitani | 30 | CLUB OWNER | 5’8 | GENTLEMAN, BUT A LITTLE NAUGHTY

You were feeling a bit down about attending the wedding of a college friend without a plus one. Your friends were all in loving relationships, and you were tired of being the odd one out. Rindou was intrigued by the request and quickly agreed. He looked forward to the opportunity to spend the evening with you and to help you feel less awkward.

Rindou was a stickler for presentation, so he took it upon himself to choose an outfit that would make you feel confident and comfortable. He asked you about the theme of the event, the colors of the invitations, and any personal style preferences you had. Using this information, he was able to find a perfect ensemble for the evening.

When you arrived at the venue, you felt a new sense of confidence. The dress that Rindou got tailored was a perfect fit, and the shoes made you feel taller and more sophisticated. You knew that you looked good, and that made you feel even more comfortable mingling with the other guests. Rindou had been right, the outfit had boosted your confidence, and it showed while he was happily your arm candy. As you continued to make your way toward the main event, Rindou couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity with the place. He quickly realized that he was one of the co-owners of the venue, and had completely forgotten to mention it to you. He felt a bit sheepish about the oversight and did not make a big deal out of it.

However, it did come back to bite him in the ass later on. “Mr. Haitani?” The groom took notice of his presence when the couple visited your table. “Pleasure to meet you, I did not see you on the guest list. What a surprise!” They shook hands. “My girlfriend is here with me.” He smiled and held you closely. “You didn’t tell us that your boyfriend owned the venue, [ Y / N ]-chan!” WHen the bride said that, it seemed that the other guests on the table now seemed more interested in you. “How did you meet?” “Is there a ring yet?” It was a bit of a shockwave to you and your friends. Suddenly it seemed as though they were all more interested in you than they were before, and you felt a tinge of discomfort, which Rindou easily picked up on.

“Oh, shut up…you won’t even talk to her two minutes ago…” Rindou scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Wanna ditch?” You were touched by his offer, and gladly accepted. You needed a break from the endless talk about your friends' relationships, and it was nice to have a place to escape to for a little while. Rindou took you to the bar of his brother’s hotel nearby, where you were able to enjoy your own night just by yourselves without having to impress people who you barely know anymore. “Sorry for not telling you sooner, it was exactly what I was trying to avoid…” Rindou knew his way around a bar, and you found yourself in the perfect spot with him at your side. He explained the menu items and suggested a few different drinks that he thought you might enjoy, making sure to cater to your tastes. You felt grateful for his attention, and you appreciated how much effort he was putting into the conversation.

As you sat at the bar, you found yourself opening up more than you ever thought you would. You talked about your job,hobbies, and even a little bit about your past relationships. Rindou was a great listener, and he made you feel comfortable enough to share details that you had never told anyone before. You loved the fact that even though he was a complete stranger, he was genuinely interested in your life and experiences. While he also had a fair share of stories, especially the reason behind joining the rental services despite being a wealthy businessman… Rich people get bored sometimes too, you know…

You felt like you had known Rindou for much longer than just one evening. You couldn't believe how quickly the time had passed, and you found herself wishing that the night could go on forever. As they closed down the bar and left the reception, Rindou walked you to the suite he offered, and you found yourself wishing that you had the courage to ask him if he would like to see eachother again…

Ran Haitani | 31 | CLUB OWNER | 6'0 | BOLD

You have been using your “fiance” as an excuse to get out of uncomfortable situations or company gatherings, but now you are facing a dilemma. Your boss was hosting a company outing, and you knew that you couldn't use the same excuse again because he personally invited “your fiance”.

Thinking quickly, you reached out to Ran and asked him to play the part of your fiance for the whole trip. You were relieved when he agreed, knowing that he was the perfect person to accompany you to the event. Ran was charming, charismatic and extremely meticulous so you knew he would be able to sell the "fiance" ruse perfectly.

Ran likes to live life to the fullest, and he's not afraid to splash out on extravagant things. He's handsome, wealthy, and he has a way with the ladies. “You wanna make this more believable? I’ll take you on a date before our flight ♡” He took you to the finest restaurants and their club, and he insisted on paying for everything. He bought you clothes to bring to the trip, and you took a lot of photos together to show around. And he of course did not forget the fiance scheme and took you to Cartier for ring shopping. You were surprised by Ran's opulent lifestyle, but you were also drawn to his confidence and charm. He's not afraid to take risks or to try new things, and you feel like you can learn a lot from him.

On the day of the flight, you pulled up at the airport in his luxury sedan, dressed to the nines that truly made you look like the real deal. Ran was a smooth talker and a natural flirt, and he made you feel like the most important person in the world. And being the actor that he is, Ran smoothly introduced himself to your boss and colleagues. But you only gave them a glimpse of your ruse, because Ran had bumped your seats to first class where you praised each other for your acting.

During the trip, you were treated like a queen by Ran. He was always making sure your needs were met and that you were comfortable. He would hold your hand in public, carry your things, and go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable and well-cared for. You liked the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and the way he looked at you with a sparkle in his eye. You were constantly getting compliments on your clothing, accessories, and your perfect “fiance.” You knew it was all just an act, but you couldn't help but enjoy every minute of it. Ran was way too good.

One night, you and Ran spent the evening soaking in the bathtub on your hotel balcony, surrounded by the sounds of the sea and the stars sparkling above you. He uncorked a bottle of the finest champagne, enjoying the bubbly beverage as you talked about your actual lives. You took the opportunity to let loose and talk trash about your co-workers. Ran laughed and poked fun at their annoying habits and quirks as well, bonding over your shared experiences. Ran was a natural storyteller, sharing stories from his past and his dreams for the future.; while You were fascinated by his adventures and insights. In turn, you talked about your own hopes and dreams. Ran listened intently, offering advice and support where needed. The conversation flowed effortlessly, with no awkward silences or forced conversation.

Ran was a true professional, and he played his role as your fiance flawlessly throughout the trip. He remained attentive and gave you affection in front of everyone. You were impressed by his commitment to the bit and his ability to seamlessly slip into character and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for him. He made you feel like you were the most important person in the world, and you were touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

You were seriously moved by Ran's dedication to the role, even as you said goodbye. He had played the part with such natural grace and ease that she had almost forgotten that it was all an act. You were grateful for his commitment to the bit and his attention to detail, and you enjoyed the fact that you had someone during the trip. “Come on, I can’t keep these.” With his gifts in your hands, you insisted. Of course, you could… But you thought it was polite to offer. Ran’s answer intrigued you, though… “Of course you can…” He chuckled and opened the door of your home. “We still have that wedding, right?” He winked and kissed your forehead before seeing his way out.

Shinichiro Sano | 36 | BIKE SHOP OWNER | 6'0 | CHIVALROUS

You had grown tired of your friends' incessant efforts to set you up on blind dates, with stupid college boys to make matters worse. You appreciated their well-meaning efforts, but you simply weren't interested in pursuing romantic relationships. And so you decided to seek the assistance of Shinichiro, hoping that his chivalrous disposition would be enough to convince your friends to lay off.

You decided that for the cover to be believable, you would need to go on a date with Shinichiro before hard-launching him to your friends. You also made sure that he was comfortable with playing the role and that you had a good rapport, but you had no idea what to do for your very real fake date. However, Shinichiro took the matter in his own hands and insisted you did not have to move a single joint.

You and Shinichiro arrived at the cafe of the main deck in Tokyo Tower, which offered breathtaking views of the city's skyline. You were seated at a corner table, giving a clear view of the vast expanse of lights and skyscrapers. It was a dreamy and romantic setting, enhanced by delicate table settings and soft music playing in the background.

Shinichiro treated you to a multi-course meal, where you savored a selection of traditional Japanese food. They were exquisite and perfectly prepared, and you couldn't help but be impressed by Shinichiro's good taste. You talked about everything and anything, from your childhood memories to your ongoing endeavors. Shinichiro was a good listener and made sure to ask thoughtful questions, ensuring that the conversation flowed smoothly. You were honestly impressed by his openness and genuine interest in you, and you found yourself sharing things that she had never shared with anyone else before. The conversation was so engrossing that you lost track of time, and it felt as though you had been talking for hours.

However, the motorcycle race of his little brother's team, "Top of Manji," was an exhilarating experience. You marveled at the skill and precision of the racers as they raced around the track at high speeds. Shinichiro's passion for mechanics was palpable, and he explained the intricacies of the race in detail. You were moved by his enthusiasm and felt grateful to have had the opportunity to share in such a unique experience, and it was genuinely warm to listen to Shinichiro talk about something he really loved.

And so the day arrived and you invited your friends for dinner at a restaurant you and Shinichiro had found, a Japanese izakaya that you thought they would enjoy. You had made a reservation for a medium table in the middle of the restaurant, where you would be surrounded by the lively atmosphere. After greetings and pleasantries, you finally introduced your friends to Shinichiro, revealing that he was your new boyfriend. They were all visibly surprised by the revelation, but Shinichiro turned on his charm, making small talk and engaging in witty banter with your friends. He was so natural at it, making everyone feel comfortable and included. You couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for his presence and for the support he had shown you thus far.

Shinichiro was very affectionate towards you, making sure to pay attention to your needs and feelings. He cut your food, poured your drinks, and wiped the side of your lips. And as the evening wore on and the temperature dropped, he took off his jacket and casually offered it to you. It was relieving to see that your friends were starting to warm up to Shinichiro. They were impressed by his chivalry, intelligence, and sense of humor.

As the evening went on, she and Shinichiro grew more comfortable with each other, exchanging smiles and sharing inside jokes. Although your friends were initially skeptical about Shinichiro at first, however, as they spent more time with him, they began to see what she saw in him. They noticed his chivalrous nature and how he treated you with “love and respect”. They were impressed by his ability to hold a conversation and how engaging he was. They praised you for finding a good boyfriend and expressed their support for your relationship. This made you feel touched and felt grateful for their encouragement.

Shinchiro was an older man, but he carried himself with a youthful energy that was contagious. He had a kind heart and a charismatic smile, making it easy for you to feel at ease with him. He was a gentleman, always using polite language and good manners, but he also had a bit of mischief in him. He loved to make jokes and banter with you, and he always had a twinkle in his eye that made you smile. The dinner was a hit, and you were thrilled to see your friends enjoying themselves so much.

Maybe it was the fact that Shinichiro was older than the guys you previously dated and even older than yourself, but you actually enjoyed the extra attention and care that Shinichiro gave, as compared to your previous dates. You found yourself beginning to fantasize about having a real boyfriend like him, who would pamper and take care of you in the same way. It was a nice feeling to have someone who seemed to genuinely care about you, and you were grateful for the experience of dating him, even if it was just a temporary arrangement. Or will he allow it to remain that way?

Wakasa Imaushi | 36 | GYM OWNER | 5'3 | NONCHALANT

Wakasa Imaushi was the perfect person for your plan to win back your ex. He was charming, confident, and seemed to know how to treat a woman. Your plan was to make your ex jealous by spending time with Wakasa and having you paint a picture of a perfect couple.

He was impressed with your predictions on the whereabouts of your exes, and he was always ready to hop on your antics. Wakasa was a natural at billiards, while you considered yourself to be a bit of a novice. Despite this, he was patient with you and taught you the basics, guiding you through each shot. As you played, you stood closely together, with his hand on your back as he showed you how to grip the cue. As you finished up your game, you noticed your ex watching you from across the room, clearly jealous of the attention Wakasa was giving you. This only seemed to fuel Wakasa's desire to treat you like a princess, and up his game for your next “dates”.

As you waited outside your office building, you spotted Wakasa pulling up on a sports bike. It was obviously a labor of love for him, and it was clearly a statement piece— beautiful paint job, modifications, and powerful engines. He even got you your own helmet, and as you took a seat on the back of the bike, Wakasa revved the engine and took off down the road. You couldn't help but notice the looks of envy and jealousy from your ex-partner. You had always admired his bike, which was pretty decent, but Wakasa's was on another level. It was entirely his idea, knowing that it would take a hit on your ex’s ego. Which was right— he couldn't help but feel jealous of Wakasa and his newfound ability to make you happy and sent you a pretty petty text later on that day.

You eagerly showed Wakasa the text from your ex, and his reaction was everything you had hoped for. His expression turned into a proud smirk, and he leaned in closer to you as he read the text. You felt a sense of joy knowing that she had the upper hand in the situation and that your ex was feeling a sense of jealousy. No one could even see the two of you right now, but you were hanging out together in his gym, seemingly having a blast together. As part of your workout routine, Wakasa finds himself beginning to focus on helping you train, providing guidance and assistance as you lift weights. He was attentive and supportive, helping you with your form and demonstrating proper technique. Wakasa found himself enjoying the process and the feeling of coaching someone. You appreciated his guidance and support, and she felt a sense of satisfaction as you lifted heavier weights than you've ever had before…

“Don't fall in love with me, [ Y / N ]...” He made eye contact with you through the mirror as he held your waist. “Shut up.”

One particular day when you got off early at work, you and Wakasa found yourselves on a night out at his favorite drinking place, sipping drinks and enjoying each other's company. As they sat in the dimly lit bar, their conversation grew more intimate, personal, and playful, laughing and teasing each other. With the alcohol flowing, your inhibitions began to slip away, and before you knew it, you were locked in a deep, passionate kiss while you sat on his lap.

You were both surprised by the spontaneous kiss and felt your heart racing as you and Wakasa shared an intimate moment. “You’re making a mistake.” “Probably.” “Definitely…” You remained close together, not wanting to break apart just yet. The kiss was long and passionate, and it seemed to last forever. As you finally pulled away from each other, you both felt a sense of emptiness, wanting more of each other but unsure of what to do next.

As you woke up in Wakasa's place the next day, the reality of the previous night's events started to sink in. You realized that you had made a mistake in giving in to your urges, but at the same time, you couldn't help but want to continue doing it. You were hesitant at first, unsure of how to approach Wakasa about what happened, but you found herself drawn to him anyway. You knew that your relationship was still temporary and that you couldn't let your feelings get in the way of your agreement. Despite this, you found yourselves wanting to spend more time with him, both in your ruse and outside of it, all while pretending to Wakasa’s face that this still meant nothing.

It is certainly not common for a boyfriend-for-rent to give you a monthsary gift. Such gifts are typically given by a long-term romantic partner, or someone who is seeking a long-term relationship. Since the arrangement with Wakasa is meant to be temporary and was not originally intended to last longer than a few weeks or a months, it would not be expected for him to give you such a present. So you were surprised when Wakasa presented you with a small gift for your one-month anniversary. You were touched by the gesture, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt knowing that you shouldn't be developing feelings for him…

ㅤㅤthank you for renting our boyfriends! did you catch feelings? we don't care! as long as you come back to see them again ;)

#tokyo revengers #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #baji keisuke #baji x reader #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #haitani brothers #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios

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reidmotif · 4 months

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Check Your Window (He's At Your Window)

Summary: Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, lingerie, masturbation, slight dubcon (but for like 5 seconds i swear), nipple play, penetrative sex, apartment break-in.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

It’s natural to believe you’re safe in your place of residency. You’re given locks, blinds, a security gate- all measures designed to invoke a false illusion of privacy. Of course, there are defects that no one can plan for that have the ability to shatter this illusion.

Mine happened to be a badly placed window.

Finding this apartment felt akin to love at first sight. It sounds dramatic, but I’m serious. Do you know how horrific real estate is these days? But when my eyes came upon piano oak flooring, the soft light of the day streaming onto a marble island, and of course, an in-home washer/dryer system, I was sold.

Due to my inherent awkwardness around meeting strangers, and lack of overt charm, I’d never been one to initiate introductions with my neighbors. I moved in quietly, packing up my life into neat little boxes and dispersing them throughout the emptiness of my new space. It was only then, when I realized a strangely placed window that seemed to fall exactly where I’d wanted my bed to be.

And while examining my outlandish situation, I saw him.

I didn’t want to assume he’d been watching me. I wasn’t paranoid like that. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give off the aura of, for lack of better words, a creep, so the quick aversion of my eyes from his gaze felt instinctual. Curiosity won over me a millisecond later, though, and against my better judgment, I quietly peered into the window again, wondering if the man in the glass had slipped away, or had looked away from where our eyes met last.

What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was to be met with the unflinching stare of his eyes, far from concerned with how he came off, holding his gaze with an almost disconcerting and defiant presence.

He gave me a subtle nod, before walking away, disappearing from view. I was left feeling.. unsettled. But also strangely thrilled. There was a certain peculiarity in knowing you were susceptible to an audience at any given moment. I vaguely recalled social facilitation as a possible explanation as to why the concept roused me the way it did, but whatever it was, I didn’t feel compelled to attach curtains or any kind of barrier to avoid the phenomenon.

While my thoughts occasionally drifted to the man, I didn’t actually know anything about him. He lived in the building beside mine, so we didn’t even share so much as a landlord. I truly never expected to gain any insight on him besides the location of his domicile in relation to mine, and the thought didn’t bother me by any means. I was completely fine with letting our connection stay as severed as it was.

Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas.

I found myself a few weeks later, struggling with an overstuffed grocery bag in front of my building, and in a terrible game of mismanaged weight and the flimsiness of grocery-store plastic, my bag gave way, scattering the contents of it across the ground. Further misfortune plagued me, as the bag in question had been holding a good pound of lemons, that rolled quite far from where I’d been standing. I immediately dropped to the ground, trying to gather up the ones by my feet in my arms, and noticed a presence nearby doing the same and bringing the runaway citrus to me. I was thankful, and was ready to express my gratitude to the helpful samaritan, until I saw a flash of recognition collectively pass over our faces as we made eye contact.

Him. The man in the window.

“You dropped these.” He says, his voice a little quieter than I’d expected from him, and I nod.

“Yeah, no. It’s these bags. Not really equipped to hold a pound of lemons.” I say, trying to gather the rest to my chest, our eyes still trained on the other.

“Can I ask why a pound of lemons?” He asks, a sort of playful lilt in his voice.

“Lemonade.” I say, almost immediately.

There’s a bit of confusion that flashes over his face. “Are you making a joke?” He replies, furrowing his brows a bit.

I realize that my response might’ve come off as too deadpan, and I shake my head to correct his misconception. “Oh, no. I’m serious.” I say, offering a grin. “I love lemonade. There’s a work party I’m attending, and I offered to make some for the office. Hence, the lemons.” I continued, gesturing at the aforementioned fruit, and feeling myself ramble slightly, but it didn’t seem to offend the recipient.

“That.. is a surprisingly normal response, given the situation.” The man says, nodding. “I love lemonade too.” He adds.

There’s a bit of silence as we both picked up lemons together, the man more focused than I on the task. I took the oppurtuinity within the lull of our conversation to truly examine the man, finally no longer separated by a pane of glass, and my observations all seemed to point towards one glaringly obvious conclusion.

The man in the window was hot.

He appeared older than me, yet his age did nothing to diminish the beauty of his features. His doe-like eyes seemed to shine with the same curiosity that I felt towards him. His hair was a bit longer than I’d expect from a man his age, but it suited him. The smooth slope of his nose had a certain charm to it, and his cheekbones were impossibly sharp. I wanted to run my thumb over the bone, and kiss him senseless until we could barely remember our own names.

“I’m (Y/N). You’re free to come over.” I say, a little more rushed than I’d wanted to. “For the lemonade, of course.” I add, trying to not drop the ball when it came to inviting this gorgeous man over to my apartment.

“Spencer.” He replies, offering his name to me. “I'll keep it in mind.” He says, smoothly. He flashes me a kind smile as he places the last of the lemons into my other bags or directly into my hands.

I’d hoped “I’ll keep it in mind” meant “within the next few days or so” but waiting seemed futile after a certain amount of time had passed. He never came, and I even stopped seeing him as often through the window in passing. In hindsight, it was rather naive to genuinely expect a near-stranger to come to my apartment, on account of an invitation that could have been interpreted as a thinly-veiled proposition.

It felt a bit dull, his lack of interest. I’d had a taste of his attention, and for some reason, I was hooked. It was irrational, and illogical, but I couldn’t help the desire I felt simply at the thought of this man. And in a mixture of perversion, desperation and pure brainlessness, I tried to use the one thing that had rarely failed me in the past. Sex.

I reasoned by telling myself it wasn’t like it was guaranteed he’d see me.

And it wasn’t as if I was standing directly by the window, exposing myself for his pleasure, and his pleasure only. So hey, if he saw my figure adorned in lacy lingerie in passing, and felt compelled to act on that in any way he chose, well. No harm, no foul, right?

So that’s exactly what I did. To my benefit, it was one of the hottest summers D.C had ever had, so the lack of clothing worked in my favor. I’d always felt quite confident in my own skin, so lounging around in bras, panties, barely-there cover-ups around my apartment didn’t strike me as the oddest thing to do. I felt comfortable, and in turn, possibly seducing the man in the window. Win-win.

And “win” I did, in some way at least, because I noticed the arrival of lingerie correlated in a sudden uptick in the times I’d see Spencer taking a longer-than-normal glimpse into my apartment. It was fucking exhilirating, to have his regard in this strange, taboo way. I’d find myself imagining him, surrounded by a sea of sheets and pillows slowly stroking his cock to the images of my scantily-clad body. I had no real way of verifying if this was the actual case, but the fantasy was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and an ache in my panties.

It started to drive me a little crazy, however, when after a week of this, literally no tangible reward came from the fruits of my labor. While I’d enjoyed his eyes on my form, that seemed to be all he was capable of. He seemed completely at ease with just watching (to my utter dismay) and it seemed the action I wanted him to take was sorely out of reach.

Reflecting on his shy, soft demeanor from the one time we’d spoken, I concluded that he might not be as forward as I am. It made sense; he never seemed to have visitors in his apartment and, seeming to be in his 40s without a stable partner, he probably wasn't accustomed to a woman's attention in this way. He didn’t exactly exude “womanizer” anyway from what I knew about him, and I began to connect his lack of initiative to these points.

It didn't deter me from continuing my attempts though. At best, I was at least providing a lonely middle-aged man some sorely needed imagery in the meantime. I’d always been a giver, anyhow.

It’s reasonable to assume there’d be some payoff down the road, right?

Wrong. I continued to wear increasingly revealing lingerie, going as far as just walking around naked once in a while. Nothing. I was a fucking saint at this point for continuing this for him.

It didn’t help that my mind insisted on taunting me with what I couldn’t have, as a moment of spare time in my day would constantly be preoccupied with thoughts of him in my bed, pinning my hands down and kissing up and down my neck. I’d imagine him pounding into me, or bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing us both to the throes of pleasure. I couldn’t halt the depravity of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.

What I also couldn’t stop, was the slow descent of my fingers into my panties one night, finding a delectable mess within them, signifying my deep arousal associated with the man. It’d been a long few weeks, the smell of summer and heat encasing my apartment, and a profound craving I couldn’t resist. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I began rubbing the small nub, alternating between up and down motions, and then a slow, circular rub. Little moans poured out my lips, before I quickly shed my panties entirely, watching a string of arousal stuck to them, kicking them haphazardly to the side, wanting more access to my clit.

My eyes naturally closed as I found myself lazing towards the precipice of release. Soft sighs and moans filled my apartment as I let my fingers rub a bit more desperately. I could see flashes of him again behind my eyes, his hand on me, instead of my own, mirroring the actions I was performing. A gasp of his name came tumbling out of me as the image became clearer and clear, my eyes opening almost frantically as I felt myself closer and closer.

That’s when I got the strangest sensation, and felt a pair of eyes on me. I jolted my head to the left, and saw Spencer, who was clearly watching at this point. His gaze was entirely trained on me, and similar to the first time he saw me, our eye contact didn’t deter him from his observation.

I refused to let it either, and kept my gaze trained on him. I was entirely exposed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop my actions if I’d had a gun to my head. It just felt too fucking good. A moment more of eye contact from him, and I felt the familiar clench and release from my body, waves of pleasure wracking my body. I let out another moan, but not once did my eyes leave his, as my back arched against my sheets, a silent plea on my part being conveyed.

Come here. What could you possibly be waiting for?

I watched him disappear from the window as I finished, both literally and figuratively, and panted, wondering if finally, finally, my prayers and fervent supplications would be answered.

After about 30 minutes, my anticipation was replaced with severe disappointment when I realized even after then, he wasn’t coming. I could no longer see him in the window, and at this point it seemed a little silly and pathetic to continue expecting him to come.

Maybe he was just entirely sexually inadept. That could be a possibility, right? How much more explicit could I get than this? I’d masturbated in front of him! Albeit, through a window, but masturbation regardless! Was this seriously all he was willing to do?

I roll my eyes at the thought. I came to accept that maybe, truly, there was nothing I could do to get this man to fuck me the way I deserved. Fine.

As I closed my eyes to get some necessary rest after my endeavors, I made up my mind that I’d buy curtains tomorrow. Fuck Spencer Reid, and his absolute inability to take any action in his goddamn life. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything.

Was I dramatic? Yes. Was I still right? Also yes.

Despite the sour mood I’d taken to bed with me that evening, my dreams were anything but. The idea of Spencer Reid holding me down, whispering sweet and dirty nothings alike were all still incredibly tantalizing to my subconscious. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft pink lips brushing against the shell of my ear, a deep pressure imprinted onto my body, keeping me in my bed.

“Wake up, sweetheart.” He murmured, beckoning me out of the peaceful cocoon of sleep.

I felt a few more wet and warm kisses trailing up and down my neck, the sweetest sensation of pleasure being granted to me with every touch he gave.

“Need you to wake up, pretty girl.” He mumbles. “You really are so pretty up close.” His voice is slightly patronizing, and it does nothing to help the excitation that was steadily growing inside of me.

Suddenly, I became incredibly aware that the stimuli I was receiving didn’t appear to be a byproduct of my psyche, but rather- he was here? My eyes opened slowly to realize I wasn’t at all mistaken, the soft brush of his brown hair against my neck slightly tickling me as I came to.

“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his lips still mapping out every inch of my skin. Out of pure instinct, a slightly alarmed moan came from me, still unsure if I was dreaming or not. Surely I had to be dreaming. I had to be, because how the fuck did Spencer Reid get into my apartment? Into my bed?

“You want this, yeah?” He murmurs, taking a second to gaze down at me. I realized he’d been on top of me this whole time, and the pressure I’d felt in my dream was his skin on mine, trapping me in between his strong chest and the soft sheets adorning my mattress. “I know you do. Saw your little show and everything.” He breathes out, desperately, almost.

I know I should’ve thought about it. Perhaps I should’ve pondered on the idea of letting a man who’d just broken into my apartment full access to my body as he pleased, but there was no time. He was here, and how could I have ever said no to that?

There’s an equally as desperate and breathy, “yes” that escapes my lips, and before I can finish saying the word, he dives down, meeting my lips with his, absolutely devouring me with no hesitation whatsoever. If I'd thought his previous ministrations were delightful, this was absolutely heavenly.

I moan softly into his mouth, wanting to tangle my hands in his hair, or latch them onto his shoulders and sink my nails deep into the skin that resided there- anything to show even a semblance of control in this situation, but it seemed Spencer had already thought of that, pinning my hands against the mattress so tightly, I couldn’t have moved if I’d exerted every last bit of strength into it.

“God, the first time- first time I saw you.” He mumbles in between kisses. “With those lemons. I knew they’d fall. Saw you through the window across the street and practically ran. Wanted to meet you so badly.”

A small whimper escapes me, and I can’t help but get wetter at the thought. I knew he’d been watching me through the window, but the idea that I captured his attention, outside of my apartment, in the most mundane of situations only served to heighten the arousal I felt, my thighs rubbing together for any kind of relief.

He notices the movement and grins, planting one last kiss on my lips before slipping down. His hands cup the backs of my knees, forcing me to spread my previously shut legs.

“You had the prettiest voice.” He breathes out, examining my glistening heat. “Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sound, screaming my name.” He leans forward, planting a chaste kiss on my clit that caused an incredibly breathtaking jolt through my body.

“Spencer-” I moan, my head rolling back as I felt it, my back arching slightly.

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles, clearly pleased. “Good girl.”

His hands traveled upward from where he’d been situated between my legs and squeezed my breast blindly. It didn’t feel like it was for my pleasure, but rather that he was desperate to touch anywhere he possibly could. Anyone else, and I might’ve been annoyed with the incessant touching, but with him?

It was so fucking hot.

“That goddamned lingerie.” He mumbles. “The things I wanted to do to you. Did you know that?”

I looked at him through hooded lids, unsure what he meant, and he took my diversion of attention to quickly tweak one of my nipples, eliciting another surprised moan from my mouth.

“I’m so much stronger than this, usually.” His large hands continue to squeeze and grope at my breasts. “But you.” He whispers, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. “Had to push the limits. Practically begging me to come here and take you.”

I let out a gasp as I felt his hands trail down my stomach, the cool touch of his fingertips causing the muscles to tense up there.

“I’m gonna do it.” He whispers, his face only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open window, but I could still see the dangerous glint in his eye, thrilling me even further. “Fuck you exactly how you want it.”

Before I’m able to react to the sentiment, he’s grabbing onto my hips and turning me over, a yelp drawn out from me.

“Hands and knees.” He says, in an authoritative tone that doesn’t leave any room for any disagreement. I comply quickly, much to his elation.

“You’re so good for me, yeah? Gonna ruin you. Just how you want.”

There’s a hint in condescension in his tone, like he’s making fun of me for wanting to be fucked this badly, but I can barely pay any mind about it, especially when I feel his cock slotting itself betweet my folds, separated only by his boxers, a shaky moan coming from Spencer.

I can feel his hands leaving my hips and the slight lean away as he quickly shucks off the fabric, and within the next second, he’s pushing into me, providing me with a stretch and fulfillment that was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast pace, the sound of our skin slapping and the smell of sex permeating the room.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans out, and I let out similar noises in tandem.

I can barely find it in me to stay coherent. I want to scream how good he feels, how big his cock feels in me, how close I was- but instead the only thing I could manage was the borderline scream of his name and loud sobs of pleasure, fully at the mercy of the man behind me. I can feel the way I clamp down on him, absolutely imploring him for as much as he could give me.

“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He says, feeling the clench of my walls on his cock. “Come on, pretty girl. Give me what I want.” He murmurs lowly, leaning down closer to my ear. His hand shoots out a moment later, beginning to rub my clit, similar to how I had been doing a few hours earlier as he watched me, and the memory and sensation of it is enough to hurl me off the edge, my walls tightening around his cock as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.

It seemed that was enough for him as well. I felt his hips still, and a sudden warmth at my deepest point. He let out a groan of relief as he thrusted once, twice more, and then pulled out, his cum slipping down my thighs as he plopped down next to me. I’d already collapsed the second he pulled out, panting as I came down from the orgasm.

“You good?” He mumbles, wearily, and I can feel him moving aside my hair to kiss at my shoulder.

“Mhm.” I murmur back, a small sigh of relief escaping me. There’s a beat of silence, before he breaks it.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Wanna go out with me?”

I raise an eyebrow, turning at him with a playful expression- as playful as I could get in this state anyway. “Where to?”

“Target.” He mumbles, still stroking my back lazily, his eyes shining with something less intense than lust now, but still enough to turn my stomach over with butterflies.

“Target?” I say, squinting my eyes. “Why Target?”

“We’re buying you some curtains.” He says, a small grin appearing on his face. “And maybe a stronger lock.”

I giggle at that, rolling my eyes a bit. “But then you don’t get to see me anymore. I kind of liked what we had going on.”

“I did too.” He whispers, his tone slightly vulnerable now. “But I like this a lot more.”

A small smile plasters itself to my face as I nod.

“Me too.” I whisper back, biting my lip.

A mutual understanding passed through the both of us as we smiled at each other in the dark, and for a split second, I imagined myself possibly loving this more someday.

All in good time. Right now, I was going to sleep, protected by his soft, strong arms. That was enough for now. We’d finally gotten what we wanted.

woah!! trying to finally get back into writing semi regularly i see. i hope this was enjoyable. this is one of those pieces i'm kind of unsure about, so please, please interact if you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, anything! or let me know if you didn't! i live for feedback of any kind. thank you for reading anyhow, i am very grateful for it <3

also lol if it wasn’t obvious i listened to “she” for fic inspo lol. linked below

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eccentricwritingbaby · 5 months

Text

baby finn series, the necessary reactions

series masterlist

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

summary - y/n is pregnant again, time to tell the world - well, their whole world.

masterlist

“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”

“you’re joking,” lando whispers, his eyes beginning to well with tears, “love, are you serious?” you nod wordlessly, your smiling catching from ear to ear as lando’s begins to grow, “oh my GOD!” he exclaims, not caring anymore about the young boy sleeping down the hall. he’s currently too busy grabbing your waist in his hands and spinning you around in giggling circles.

“lan, please,” you choke out between your laughs, “you’ll turn our baby into a milkshake,” you continue to giggle as lando sets you down with quiet apologies in between a multitude of kisses. the room falls silent for a moment as lando pulls away and his hands migrate to your stomach, both of you staring into each others eyes as if they were the stars in the sky.

“we’re having another baby,” lando’s smile has not faltered since your admission, and neither has yours.

“ya, lan. we’re having another baby,” you smile wider as happy tears start their race down your cheeks. lando joins in shortly with happy sobs as he pulls you into his arms, calmly rocking you both back and forth in place. you hear the quiet words mumbled into your neck of ‘i can’t believe this is happening’ and ‘i’m so fucking happy right now’ as you just hold onto your husband in joy.

finally pulling apart, lando drops down to a knee, staring at your bare stomach in awe, “hi baby norris,” he chokes down another sob as he kisses the baby’s home, “it’s your daddy,” you hold his head in your hands while trying to control your own tears, enjoying the interaction at its fullest.

your husband looks up at you and all you read in his eyes is pure admiration and love. he catches your eyes staring down at him, seeing only love and admiration as well. you both share the soft moment in quiet comfort, proceeding to not leave each other's sides as you ready yourselves for bed.

getting yourself under the blankets in bed, you scoot over into lando’s awaiting arms, him immediately wrapping you into his hold. his free hand falls to your stomach like a magnet - just as it always did with finn. you roll the slightest in order to have a better view of your husband, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek, both of you not breaking the adoring eye contact. he leans down a pinch, kissing your nose, then cheeks, then forehead, and finally landing on your lips. you hum in approval before he separates, proceeding to lean down to your stomach and repeat the kisses.

his head lays on the top of your stomach, your hands raking through his curls, as he continues to speak sweet nothings to the growing baby inside your tummy. you then soon fall into a conversation about when and how you found out - your bad takeout was not actually bad, and the doctor's appointment was yesterday, how far along you were - seven weeks, only - and when your next appointment was - two weeks from today, your first ultrasound.

you were lulled to sleep by lando’s continuing conversation to your unborn child and his soft stroking over your belly.

you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and distant baby giggles echoing through your home. stretching for a moment, you take a deep breath - debating needing a morning sickness session or not - before you reluctantly climb out from your warm haven of blankets. reaching quickly for one of lando’s hoodies tossed around, you pull it over your head to substitute for the lost heat.

“momma!” you hear the happy squeaks of your son as you open the door from your bedroom, light padding of his feet making their way over to you. entering into the living room, you’re immediately met with a bouncy three year old at your feet, arms up and ready for his morning cuddles. swinging him onto your hip with whispered ‘good morning, my love’ and a kiss to his sweet head, you waltz over to your husband seated on the couch.

“i made breakfast, you hungry, love?” lando asks as you take a seat next to him.

“not right now, but probably soon,” you respond, leaning over to greet your husband with a kiss.

“alright, but you need to eat,” his over-protective nature residing again, something you had your ups and downs with while pregnant with finn.

“i know, love. i will,” you assure your husband with another light peck to his lips. he smiles back down at you, on too much of a high to even pester you as of this moment.

“we have the quadrant video today, too,”

“oh, right,” you shake your head, “what time is that again?”

“around three, so we have a lot of time,” lando proceeds to direct his attention to his son, “are you so excited to come with us, finn? uncle max will be there!”

“uncle max!” your son claps happily from your lap, excited at the mention of his other favorite uncle.

“yes, buddy! uncle max wants to see you!” lando claps with his son, “why don’t you go pick out what you want to wear today, bubs?” your husband picks your son off your lap to help him down, giving him the availability to run to his room.

“otay, daddy!” with that, finn takes his little legs at full speed to his bedroom, amusing giggles radiating through the home. your husband turns his attention back to you after his son was out of sight, pulling you closer into his body.

“i was hoping we could tell the team today, if that’s alright with you?” lando asks you quietly, hinting at the reveal of your pregnancy. last night when you had told lando, both of your parents had been rung immediately. doing it over the phone wasn’t ideal but the parents staying in england as you and lando were in monaco wasn’t ideal either. and you both wanted to tell them right away.

“well i know we agreed to tell our parents first, but i feel like we should tell finn second, no?”

“should we tell him today before the group? or do you want to wait?”

“i don’t know, lan. i truly haven’t given it much thought and i want to. telling your only baby that another one is coming can disrupt a lot, i don’t want to rush it,” you hang your head a bit at your worries and lando understands immediately.

“it’s alright, we can tell the lads later,” he’s quick to respond in order to ease your mind.

“how about just max?” you offer as a compromise. even though finn was beyond fond of carlos, max fewtrell had been the rock for him as he was growing in your tummy up to now and for sure in the future. he was almost his second father. and he was lando’s best friend. and finn adored max just as you know your second baby will as well, “i can tell my best friend today and you can tell yours, then we’ll talk a bit more about how we tell finn,”

“i like the sound of that, love,” your husband kisses your forehead, “we’ll tell max and y/b/f/n today, and then everyone else will find out after finn,”

“yes, lovely. i like the sound of that, lan,”

pulling up to the track where lando’s quadrant video would be filmed, you let out a nervous sigh, hand involuntarily reaching for your stomach. your husband reaches across the console in the car, removing your hand and instead intertwining your fingers. a kiss to the back of your hand was all the reassurance you needed in that moment.

parked in the lot, lando steps out of the vehicle, racing around the front of the car and opening the door for you, holding onto your hand as you step out as well. leading you both towards your giggly son in the backseat, your husband unstraps his seat belts, lifts him out of the car and pulls on his hand due to finn’s persistence to walk - like a big boy. the little family makes their way through a few gates and security checks before finally arriving near the rest of the quadrant group.

“there’s the best godson in the world!” max lets out a squeal, bending down as finn sprints into his arms.

“uncle maxxxx!” finn yells in his arms, laughing along to max proceeding to pick him up and spin him around.

“hey!” your best friend comes out from behind you and lando to join the group, “does your godmother get any love?” she laughs heading over to max and finn.

“aunty y/b/f/n!” finn screams from max’s hold, wiggling to make his way towards your friend, “i dind’t know you come!” he squeaks out.

“your mommy called me! said you missed me, baby,” she laughs scooping your son up from max.

“i did! i miss you all!” finn’s arms wrap around her tightly as the entire quadrant group ‘awe’s’ at his words.

“actually, finn, why don’t you go join niran and ria,” lando starts, reaching for your hand to hint at his intentions, “momma and daddy have to talk to max and y/b/f/n really fast, okay?”

“otay, daddy! but i see them later?”

“oh ya, bubs,” your husband nods as he helps his son down towards the group, “we have the rest of the day to hang out, this will just take a second, okay?”

“otay, daddy!” finn replies to lando’s direction, running off towards niran and ria, leaving the four of you alone in a distant part of the track.

“uh oh,” max lets out, “are we in trouble?”

“not at all,” you laugh in response, “quite the opposite really, we have some exciting news to share with the both of you,” tightening your grip on lando’s hand, you give him an approval nod to let go of the information.

“y/n’s pregnant!”

“WHAT!”

“OH MY GOSH!” your best friend takes a step towards you, holding you in her arms as she jumps a bit in excitement. max and lando are hugging, congratulations are shared as the pairs switch to the other respective partner. both max and y/b/f/n are tearing up, as you and your husband are trying hard not to do the same.

“i think we’re going to tell finn tonight, so just keep it quiet,” your husband shares, max mocks his reprimand by zipping his lips shut as your best friend just continues to nod in excitement.

“and even after we tell finn, i think we’re just going to keep it quiet until i start to show, so let’s not tell anyone, alright?” you offer your worries next.

“you’ve got it guys,” max nods, “we’ll keep it a secret,”

“i mean, we did pretty good with the last one,” your best friend laughs off in her agreement.

after the long and exhausting day on the track, lando is hauling your son’s body up the stairs in his arms, the deadweight not budging once arriving inside your home. your husband carefully places him on the couch in the living room as you make your way into the kitchen in order to find something, anything to eat. a loud sigh behind you causes you to turn your head in it’s direction, coming face to face with your husband.

“i don’t think it’s happening today,”

“you mean telling finn, lan?”

“ya, he’s wiped out,”

“why are you so eager to tell him?” lando thinks for a moment at your question, reaching around you to the counter, popping a grape into his mouth.

“i’m just excited, y/n,” he finally lets slip, “i want to buy things for the nursery, i want to buy baby clothes, i want to talk to little baby norris, i want to hear finn talk about how exciting this will be, i want to-”

“okay, lan,” you cut him off, moving to steal a kiss from his lips, “bright and early tomorrow, finn will know about little baby norris,”

“good,” he sighs in relief, kissing you again.

the blinding light of the sun proceeds to have you blinking open your eyes, facing your husband who was leaning against the headboard, scrolling on his phone.

“you’re finally awake, love,” he whispers towards you, a hand coming across your cheek to swipe the sleep from your eyes. they close for a brief moment to bask in the softness before shooting open as you scramble out of bed to race to the bathroom. several knocks at the door, your persistence to keep lando away from you, and then finally a flushed toilet and mouthwash rinsed out lead you to leaving the bathroom, eyes widening at the scene.

lando is still leaning against the headboard, this time with his little mini me leaning against him as well. the tv is turned on to lando’s favorite show with a soft volume as your son is still fighting sleep on his fathers lap and a bottle of milk slowly slipping from his grasp.

“y’alright, love?” your husband speaks softly as to not alarm the baby on his lap, you nodding in return, climbing back into the bed to be with your family.

“why sick, mommy?” your son asks, sleepy gaze holding a bit of concern.

“well, finn,” you sigh, reaching for your husband’s hand as you both look down at your son on his lap, “there is a baby growing in my tummy, and sometimes it’ll make me sick,”

“baby?” finn questions, looking up at his parents with curiosity.

“ya, bubs,” lando laughs a bit, “you’re going to be a big brother! isn’t that exciting?”

“bwother…” finn sighs quietly, almost as if he’s testing the word to see if it feels correct rolling off his tongue.

“aren’t you happy, baby?” you urge softly, eyeing your son, attempting to read his reaction.

“will baby like me?” finn asks, his attention turning from you to lando.

“oh, bubs,” lando sigh, holding his son tightly as he responds, “the baby is going to love you,” he finishes off with a kiss to his head. finn finally smiles and giggles, climbing from lando’s lap over to yours, bending down to kiss your stomach.

“i wuv you, baby,” he giggles after the kiss, “i meet you soon!”

yours and your husband’s eyes meet as your son keeps kissing your belly, the non-verbal understanding that everything would be okay.

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