Warnings: heavy smut, gun kink, breeding kink, rough sex, manhandling, oral sex (f&m) ....
"Come on truth or dare " shouted Derek as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder
"Okay!" Emily shouted back through loud music. We all sat down and got our drinks . Strange thing is that Aaron fucking Hotchner decided that he wanted to play as he calls " childish game"
Aaron Hotchner. The most irritating, annoying, hardass man on the planet. He always had time to play on my nerves . We hated eachother but team of profilers could see sexual tension between us. He was hella attractive, this raven black and thick hair, goddamn hazel eyes and ravishing side profile. Don't even let me get started on his body.
His trousers always fit his thick and long legs heavenly. Who am i kidding?! He was walking sex god but at the same time total asshole
" Derek truth or dare " asked JJ
"Dare duh " Derek said without hesitation
"Okay, i dare you to get someone's number " Said JJ and Derek smirked . We all knew that it was simple operation for Derek so soon he came back with couple of numbers
"One even offered me to go to the bathroom " he laughed
"So pretty boy truth or dare?" Questioned Derek
"D-dare?" Spencer knew that Derek wouldn't go easy on him
"Go to the bathroom with some chick "
"No, what if i get STI or something ? And also one night stands aren't really my thing " he said awkwardly
"Go you need to get laid " Derek dragged him out on the dance floor and left him there "you will thank me pretty boy, enjoy yourself !"
"Y/n truth or dare " said Aaron
"It's not your turn asshole " he just rolled his eyes and waited for the answer
"Fine truth " Emily and Garcia cheered because it was the first truth
"What is your biggest kink?" Oh he went there. Should i lie ? Because i don't think i can look them in the eyes after that. I drank my shot and mumbled something
"What was that sweetheart" Aaron teased, even though he was calling me 'sweetheart' just because to make me mad it somehow always caused weird feeling in my tummy
"Guns " i said embarrassed Aaron only raised his beautiful brows while everyone was screaming or laughing
"I think I'm too old to listen to this " Rossi cracked a smile and winked at me causing me to blush
"OH MY GOD" screamed Penelope
"Come on she's embarrassed " laughed Derek and kissed my temple
"Who knew that my best friend was THAT kinky " chuckled Emily
"DEREK " Reid came screaming. Thank god that i wasn't in the center of attention, but i felt pair of eagle eyes staring at me. Aaron licked his lips and smirked. I just showed him middle finger and he made a hole with his thumb and pointer finger . I cringed and rolled my eyes at his childish actions
" She she wanted to eat my shit " Reid panted as he tried to hide behind Rossi
Team tried to contain their giggles but Derek laughed like maniac
"It's not funny guys ! "
'meet me outside in 5 minutes ' i got text from Aaron what the fuck
'fuck you Hotchner ' i decided to push his buttons
'i will drag you out '
'yes yes of course , would love to see you trying ' i rolled my eyes and put down my phone.
In about 5 minutes Aaron stood up and looked at me i just rolled my eyes and smirked sarcastically
"Okay then" he mumbled " bye guys "
He bent down and threw me over his shoulder. He wasn't joking. HE WASN'T JOKING
"Aaron put me down " i screamed and team was laughing
"They are gonna fuck !!! Yes finally" screamed Emily
"Rossi please tell him to put me down " it was too late Aaron was walking straight to the exit
As soon as we got out he slapped my bum causing me to scream
"Don't scream like a cheap whore sweetheart " okay this did something to me but i will never admit it
"Are you out of your mind Hotchner? It is embarrassing" i hissed
"I gave you an option but you decided to play on my nerves , so here we are "
Our hotel room was close so i guess he was taking me there. He was going to fuck me. Who knows how many times I've imagined him while i was playing with myself
"Put me down i can walk ! "
The whole way we were arguing and he kept slapping my ass. He didn't put me down when we stepped in the hotel room. He threw me on the bed.
"Now that I'm finally giving you attention, will you stop wearing that slutty dresses?"
"You are so full of yourself. I'm not wearing them for you-" okay that wasn't entirely true but he doesn't need to know
" You are wearing blue thong and you know blue is my favourite colour ,you also know that i have thing for woman's collar bones so here you are with bare shoulders and the heels, we all know that you hate wearing them but you wore them for me " no shit Sherlock
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased
"Fuck you "
"Oh you will little one " b-u-t-t-e-r-f-l-i-e-s.
He just ripped my dress revealing my bare breasts and blue thong
"Are you mental?! That dress was expensive as fuck and you -" he put his huge veiny hand on my mouth and kissed my neck
"First of all nice tits second of all I will buy you all the dresses you want " he mumbled
Then it hit me. I was naked underneath the most beautiful and hot man ever. I wrapped my hands around my knees trying to cover myself
"Don't you dare sweetheart " he whispered in my ear sending shivers down my spine " you are the most beautiful woman i ever laid eyes on"
" So beautiful, so gorgeous" he kissed the back of my neck " so perfect " he said looking into my eyes
How can someone be this perfect ?!!
He gently removed my hands from my knees and kissed my hand
"No need to be insecure, you have no idea how ravishing you are right now , so hot , only for me" only for him.
I crashed our lips together and he quickly got between my legs. I tangled my hand in his soft hair and let our tongues dance together.
He bit my bottom lip and smirked into a kiss then he showed his tongue down in my mouth and fought for the dominance . I moaned and it pushed him over the edge. I removed his jacket and went for his tie when he removed his lips from mine. He left one cheesy peck on my lips and started unbuttoning his shirt
Oh god. Zeus is that you?
I heard a laugh and i blushed realising that i said it out loud
I palmed his erection through his pants and he groaned. Lord he was big
I started unbuckling his belt and he started leaving hickies on my neck and collar bone
I pushed his pants down and left him in his black boxers. Hot.
He removed my panties and showed it in his jacket's pocket.
"Naughty man, stealing my panties " i knew that it would be all wet
"Shush" he spread my legs and stared at my pussy with wide eyes
"This is the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen" he said and kissed my clit causing me to whimper
"Aaron you don't need to - "
"Do i have to shut your mouth for you ? Because i know couple of ways " I felt my pussy getting wetter and he chuckled
" Such a slut"
He dived into my pussy and started circling my clit , i leat out a loud moan and he smirked against my sex
He found my clit with his mouth while guys my age can't even find it with their fingers
I felt his hands sneak around my waist and he suddenly flips me on my stomach .
Seeing Aaron manhandling me is the hottest thing , my quivering cunt is the evidence
"Baby you are dripping " he groaned as he licked from my clit to my ass. Okay everything with him is hot .
He put a finger inside of my asshole with a struggle and moaned at the sight, he wasn't the only one who moaned.
"Such a tight little asshole " he spreaded my ass cheeks with both hands and started rimming my hole
"Shit Aaron " i groaned
Then he put his mouth on my hot pussy lips and started lapping on them, soon i felt something wet going into my slit. He put his tongue in my and started teasing me. My moans has never stopped
"A-aaron stop I'm going to cum" he didn't stop in fact he hummed against my pussy sending vibrations and making me scream. I gripped his hair and he hummed again
I felt him doing some weird motions with his skilled tongue but it felt so good, I've never experienced such pleasure from oral sex
Shit. He was writing his name on my pussy, that was the last thought before i stepped into a pure bliss. No one has ever made me cum with their tongue and he didn't even use his fingers
"So fucking sweet" he said as he licked his lips
"Oh god. Fuck" i received a harsh slap on my cunt
"Language !"
"That was amazing " i breathed
" We haven't even started yet pretty girl" he smirked and kissed my lips
"God you look fucked out already. What a dirty little whore . Opening legs for your boss"
"As if you don't want me "
smack.
He slapped my face. It went straight to my core
"I told you to be quiet , didn't i?" I nodded my head "good girl "
"Can -can i taste you ?" I said looking at his boxers. His bulge was so big and hard as rock
" Little cock slave " he chuckled and removed his boxers. He seemed big but holy shit, not only was he long but also so thick
How am i going to take it. There is no way.
"You are going to take it all " his husky voice said i just nodded my head like a dumb slut
I kept staring at it as it was a piece of art.
His tip was pink and angry. His base had thick veins and god his balls. It was so big and symmetrical
"Cockdrunk whore " he smirked and petted my head
He stood right Infront of the edge of the bed and i was sitting. I just wanted to have my head between his strong thighs
"Take a picture it will last longer " he chuckled and i took my phone from the nightstand and took a picture
"Oh god " he rolled his eyes
His hand grabbed my hair and he forced his whole shaft down my throat
"Shit " he hissed . I was shocked by his action but i wasn't complaining
I gagged and tried to get up but he thrusted his hips into my mouth and my nose hit his freshly trimmed pubic hair. Instead of fighting i took his balls in my hand and started playing with them. God they were so heavy and soft
I successfully reached his balls with my tongue and he let out animalistic groan
"Shit baby you are doing so good " i hummed and he moaned
Tears started streaming down my face
"You look pre- pretty when you cry " he bit his lip as i looked up at him
i removed my mouth to breathe and he smiled down at me
I gave his tip kitten licks and tasted his pre-cum.
"Don't tease love " LOVEEEEE
"Sorry sir " his eyes widened and smirk appeared on his face
I sucked on his tip and stroked his base and balls
"Finally the way to shut you up bonus you look so bloody sexy with my cock down your throat "
I swirled my tongue around his tip and he tightened his grip on my hair, then i licked from his balls to his head following his veins, i finally put his half dick in my mouth causing him to growl
"I'm cumming slut don't you dare and stop" i hummed
"Do that again " i followed my own strategy
"I said do that again filthy little harlot" i disobeyed him again
That's when he threw me on the bed and slapped my face . He laid down and pushed me between his legs. He showed his cock down my throat and wrapped his legs around my neck.
"Breathe through your nose " he said and he started bobbing his hips
The feeling was overwhelming but seeing i caused my dream man to roll his eyes made me cum and he instantly knew
"You just came didn't you? So treating the way you deserve makes your little cunny wet? Disgusting girl " he patted my cheek and continued brutally fucking my mouth.
I pushed my index finger in his asshole and he moaned so loud
I wanted to stimulate his prostate and as it seems i did it because Aaron Hotchner came in seconds with heavenly moan
His cum was thick and white, not to mention tasty. I swallowed every drop and he groaned
"Naughty girl " he breathed and i smirked as he let me go
"Disobey me again and see what happens"
"Just bark no bite " he smirked at my words and took something from his pants. I heard 'click' sound and saw a gun. Shit. Thats where it all started.
"Is-is it loaded?" I gulped
"Where do you think we are? In the kindergarten?" He chuckled
"You do trust me right? " I nodded "words pretty girl"
" I do "
"Say it" he insisted as he started cleaning the gun
" I trust you Aaron "
"Good " he laid down next to me and cuddled with me
"Oh you want cuddles baby?" I earned a slap on my tits
He opened my legs and started drawing '8' on my puffy clit , then i felt something cold near to my vagina.
"Aaron what the fuck , you are supposed to-"
"Did i ask ?" Rude.
He squirted lube on my pussy and i scoffed
"I'm already Niagara " he chuckled
"Shush and close your eyes" i did s i was told and after one minute something touched my walls
"Aaron it hurts and its cold " i said as i gripped his arm "agh" it went deeper
"Open your eyes " i opened my eyes and i saw loaded gun going in and out my vagina
"Shit what kind of game is this ?" I asked as he continued fucking me with gun
"No bite huh? Should i shoot?"
"NOO Aaron don't you dare no Aaron please no " he pulled the trigger and i came. What kind of monster am i?
"Whore"
"Are you planing to play Russian roulette? You scared the shit out of me "
"You came darling " he kissed my temple
"Should i shoot again?" I avoided eye contact and he laughed
"God didn't know that you were that desperate floozy for me, risking her life to cum "
He shoot again and i was on the edge
"Please Aaron finger me"
"Wanna bet that the next one would kill you?" He removed soaked gun from my taut and checked a bullet. He was right. That's why i trusted him i know that he won't risk my life if he isn't sure about something
He put his 2 big fingers in and started thrusting them.
"Knew that you would be this tight"
"I don't think you will be able to walk tomorrow"
"Who said I wanted to walk?"
He flipped me on my knees and hands and made me arch my back
"Cocky bitch " he mumbled and teased my opening with his tip
"Aaron ! Put it in me !" I hissed
"Tsk tsk tsk doll "
"Please Aaron fuck the daylight out of me" he smiled and aimed his member
"Be gentle please, I don't think i can take it a-" i was interrupted by my own scream. He thrusted in me without warning and didn't even give me time to adjust. Aaron was groaning like a beast
"The most hot and tight cunt ever" he moaned and started abusing my pussy, his balls were slapping my clit but all i was feeling was pain
"Please it hurts" i sobbed and he smacked my ass
"Better get used to it " he grunted and squeezed my hips, I'm pretty sure it will bruise but who cares , obviously not me
I screamed as pain turned into the most amazing feeling and I'm pretty sure I've never experienced it before.
"Look at you, panting like a dog, i don't even think you are worthy of my cum but " he moaned and continued " but wanna fill you up with my cum, paint your insides and make you mine "
"Aaron" i moaned and clenched my cunt
"Scream my name darling " he slapped my arse again and then pulled my hair
"Aaron "
"I don't think people 3 floors down heard you, scream like you mean it" he grabbed gun and pointed it against my head. I knew that it was loaded and could blow my brains out but i trusted Aaron with my life and I couldn't deny how good it felt
"You fuck me so good daddy" shit.
"Little slut " he slammed me down on his cock and started railing me in a brutal pace
"It hurts so good " i moaned out "god "
"No god here only me sweetheart"
"All i can ever think about is fucking this sloppy cunt , tell me that this pussy is only mine"
"It is fucking yours " i mumbled
"Who's?"
"Yours Aaron "
"Come again" he gripped my hair more tightly and fastened his movements
"Yours daddy " i screamed and he groaned
"That's right slut. Now I'm gonna breed you like a bitch you are. M'gonna make your belly swollen with my baby" shit this sent me over the edge and i almost came but he shouted " don't you dare harlot"
"Please wanna cum so bad " i cried
"You. Will. Cum. When. I. Say. So" he said between his thrusts
"Wanna cary my child?"
"Yes yes daddy i want to ha-have your baby"
"Im going to get you fucking pregnant" he pushed gun tightly to my head
"Please daddy may i c-cum?" I stuttered as he stretched out my cunt
"Go " he said and wrapped his arms around my naked and sore body . We came at the same time and i swear i saw the stars
"That- that was the best sex of my life " breathed aaron as he pulled out " i felt so empty without his dick stuffing me
"Same , i lost count of my orgasms " i mumbled and kissed his lips
"Be right back " he disappeared in the bathroom and came back with wet washcloth
"You are a whole package huh?" I chuckled causing him to smile
"Only for my lady" his lady. " Aww you blushed "
"Shut up" he started cleaning me up by the time i stopped smiling like an idiot he was done cleaning me, he left one kiss on my clit and i moaned
"I think you need to sleep " he said and kissed my forehead
"Is this all you got old man?" I teased
"Your smart mouth will get you in trouble one day "
"Or will get me out of trouble " i winked and he rolled his eyes. We both knew that i was the one who couldn't go one more round because i was completely fucked out physically and emotionally
"Little girl just close your eyes "
"Not without a kiss " i argued and he grinned
"Here you go " he pecked me on my lips and i smiled. I turned my head around and kissed his cheek
" We should've done it before "
"Yes but we can't change past so we should do it more often , what do you think sweetheart"
summary: you don't realise you have bruises on your hips when putting on low waisted jeans, and your brother becomes protective over you.
cw: allusions to sex, secret relationship, jily
part of my remus x potter!reader secret relationship au! This is set before james finds out. read more on my marauders masterlist!
0.6k+ wc
"You're going to make us late y/n!" Marlene yells, Lily chuckling by her side as they wait for you to get ready. It wasn't your fault that you were still in class, and definitely not your fault that everyone had made Hogsmeade plans whilst you were in said class. You heard the door to the dorm open and slam shut, three extra voices added to the commotion in the room. You run around the bathroom, throwing off your tie and running your hands over your slightly crinkled shirt, hoping the outfit you picked out matched the image you'd created for it in your head. Kicking off your skirt, you shimmy on a pair of low waisted jeans. You pull the material of your shirt up, wondering if you should tuck it in or not before deciding against it.
Shrugging, you open the door to the bathroom, closing the closet door after stuffing your school shoes in its bottom compartment. You sit on the floor, putting on your sneakers and tying your laces. You glance at the boys who have joined your dorm mates in the room. James, your brother, sits with an arm wrapped around Lily's shoulder, whispering something into her ear. You pull a disgusted face, turning your attention to the others. Remus catches your eye and smiles widely, which you immediately return. Oh, the things you would do to stroll up and kiss him, but unfortunately, all that would do is expose your relationship to your brother. You push yourself off the ground, your shirt riding up your torso a little, and you walk into the open space of the room, putting your sun glasses on your head. "Okay I'm ready." You announce, attracting five pairs of eyes.
Sirius is the first to make a comment, asking "What counter did you have a fight with?" The comment confuses you, and you pull a face at the boy. "He means, how come you have bruises on your hips?" Marlene corrects, clearing her throat awkwardly. You glance down, view of your hips obstructed by your breasts. Huffing, you turn towards the mirror, jaw dropping just as James says "I think what they both mean is which boy fucked you so hard you have bruises on your hips?" You grimace at your brother's rephrasing, looking at the expression on his face through the mirror while Sirius barks out a laugh. James's jaw is tightly clenched, eyebrows furrowed angrily and you laugh nervously, watching as he slowly stands up. You definitely didn't think about the after effects of Remus having you bent over your desk yesterday, a hand slapped over your mouth despite the dorm's emptiness. At least the sex was good. Regaining your composure with a cough, you say "My sex life is none of your business, James."
James crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at you. "What, you don't think an older brother should care about their sister's romantic involvement with boys?" You grin, putting your arm through the handle of your purse. "No." You walk towards him, poking him in the chest. "And three minutes doesn't count as older." You open the door to your dorm, saying "After you, princess." Marlene and Sirius burst into a fit of giggles, and you can see Lily and Remus's unhidden grins from the corner of your eye. Three people stand up, following your brother out of the dorm, but one person stays behind, letting you close the door before approaching you.
Remus's hands land on your hips, massaging the bruises sorry with a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry about those sweetheart." He says, pecking your lips sorry. You hum, opening the door again, and shooing him out. "I think that smile says otherwise, Lupin. Causing me trouble with my brother..." He laughs at your comment, chasing after the others before you attempt a weak attack at him.
summary: returning to hogwarts for your final year, you’re surprised when your best friend remus suddenly seems impossibly attractive, leading to a heated encounter on the hogwarts express.
cw: best friends to lovers, this is their 8th year so all characters are adults, sexual tension, exhibition kink, train sex, explicit sexual content, cum play, blow jobs, oral, intimate passionate sex, kissing, wall fucking, bite mark kink, talks of worship, confessions, public/partial public sex, dirty talk. art is not mine!! credit goes to likafuneral, inspired by sabrina’s song when did you get hot?
Your fingers fumbled with the clasp of your bag as you hurried across the platform, weaving through the cloud of smoke that always seemed to shroud the Hogwarts Express on departure day.
The sound of chattering families, hooting owls, and trunks clattering against the cobblestones filled the air, yet beneath the chaos there was a warm, steady current of relief. It felt good to be back. Hogwarts was not only your school but your home, the only place that had ever truly felt like it belonged to you.
And after a long, empty summer, the thought of being reunited with your friends again made your chest ache with a sort of giddy anticipation.
“There you are!”
Your name cut through the noise like a whistle, and you spun around, heart leaping. James Potter stood a few feet away, already in half a mess with his trunk. His glasses were slightly crooked, hair more unruly than ever, and the grin splitting his face was wide enough to eclipse the morning sun.
“James!” You rushed forward without hesitation, crashing into him with enough force to make him stumble back a step. He laughed, his arms wrapping firmly around you in that careless way that only James Potter ever could.
“Merlin’s beard, I missed you,” he said into your hair.
Your laugh came out muffled against his shoulder, but before you could answer, the impact of the hug made your bag slip from your shoulder and crash to the ground. You bent instinctively to retrieve it—only to find another hand reaching for it at the same time.
Your fingers brushed against theirs.
Your head snapped up.
And your breath lodged itself squarely in your throat.
Remus Lupin.
Remus fucking Lupin.
He crouched opposite you, his long fingers brushing yours lightly as he lifted the bag. And when he looked up at you, offering the faintest curve of a smile, you felt your stomach lurch like you had stepped onto a broom far too high in the air.
“Got it,” he said quietly, handing it over. “You always were clumsy with this thing.”
Your lips parted, but no words came. Remus Lupin… he looked impossibly, devastatingly different. Painfully, shockingly so.
He had always been tall—taller than everyone else—but now, over the summer, he seemed to have stretched further, shoulders broader, chest lean yet impossibly strong. His hair fell longer now, soft and careless over his forehead, begging to be touched. His skin—warm and alive—seemed to radiate desire, as if the sun itself had left a mark on him.
Since when had he been this… this unbearably, sinfully attractive? You wanted to tell him, but the words were gone, stolen by the heat of him, by the ache and wetness building between your legs.
“Merlin, I missed you,” he murmured, his eyes warm as they swept over you with quiet fondness.
You swallowed hard and stood, clutching your bag a little too tightly. He pulled you into an embrace before you could think to stop him. His arms folded around you, strong and sure, and you pressed your cheek against the fabric of his shirt, suddenly all too aware of the solid muscle beneath it.
“I… I missed you too,” you managed, though the words trembled with more meaning than you would ever dare admit.
“Hey there, wankers! Make room, make room!” Sirius Black’s voice rang out, seconds before he crashed into both of you, dragging you into his usual bear-like hug. You squealed, half crushed between the two of them, as James joined the chaos, laughing at the way you practically disappeared in the middle of it.
“Bloody hell, Pads, you’ll suffocate her,” James scolded, but Sirius only grinned, planting an exaggerated kiss to the top of your head.
“I missed our girl,” Sirius announced.
You laughed despite yourself, but your eyes betrayed you, flickering back toward Remus the moment Sirius loosened his grip. He was standing slightly apart now, his hand curled around the strap of his trunk, and as he bent to lift it you couldn’t help noticing the way the fabric of his shirt pulled against his arms, the ripple of lean muscle beneath.
When the hell had Remus Lupin gotten hot?
You caught yourself staring and forced your gaze elsewhere, but the thought stayed, looping endlessly in your head. As the four of you began pushing through the crowd toward the train, the boys already falling back into their familiar banter, you found your focus dissolving.
Sirius cracked jokes. James complained about his mum nearly sending him off with a lecture longer than his trunk. And Remus spoke occasionally, his voice low and rough in a way that curled in your stomach. Every time he laughed, deep and unguarded, you felt heat crawl up the back of your neck.
As you all boarded the train, Remus, ever the gentleman, insisted on taking your bag despite your protests.
“I’ve got it,” he said firmly, his hand brushing yours as he pulled the strap free. The muscles in his forearm shifted under the fabric of his shirt, and you quickly decided you did not mind the chivalry one bit.
“Show-off,” Sirius muttered, smirking as he shoved his own trunk down the corridor, narrowly missing a terrified-looking second-year.
The four of you managed to squeeze into a compartment at the end of the train, sliding the door shut as the whistle blew and the train lurched into motion.
Conversation flowed easily—James animatedly recounting Quidditch drills he had been running all summer, Sirius interrupting with increasingly absurd jokes, you chiming in here and there with updates of your own. Remus, as always, was quieter, listening more than speaking, but every now and then his gaze flickered toward you, lingering just long enough for your stomach to flip.
At one point, you caught him staring. He smiled softly and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Your brow furrowed. “Hmm? Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think that?”
His lips quirked as though he had caught you out in a lie. “I don’t know. You just seem… different. A little shy, maybe.”
You gave a small laugh, shaking your head. “Shy? Hardly. I spent years putting up with you lot, didn’t I?”
“Exactly,” he teased lightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “So what happened? Did you forget all about us during that long summer away?”
You scoffed, though your chest tightened at the warmth in his tone. “Of course not. Nothing’s different. I’m fine, Remus. Promise.”
James groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. “Merlin, I’m starving. How long until the trolley comes around?”
“Not soon enough,” Sirius muttered, half sprawled across the seat. Then his eyes flicked toward James, a glint of mischief lighting them. “Actually… Lily’s in the next carriage, right? We should make sure Prongs gets a word in before she wanders off. Don’t want him missing his chance.”
James’s grin widened, a mix of relief and excitement. “Brilliant. If we don’t make it back, tell Evans I love her,” he added with mock solemnity.
“You say that every day,” you pointed out, a small laugh escaping you.
“Well, just in case it actually sticks this time,” James said, standing and adjusting his tie. Sirius gave him a sly nudge, and together they headed for the door, James’s energy practically radiating in his eagerness to see Lily.
The compartment door clicked shut behind them, leaving you and Remus in the sudden quiet. The hum of the train and the rhythmic clatter of wheels against the tracks became suddenly more intimate, your closeness to him filling the space in a way the others never had.
You exhaled slowly, sinking back into your seat. For a moment, the only sound was the steady clatter of the train rushing over the tracks.
“So,” he said softly, tilting his head. “Still want to tell me nothing’s different?”
Your throat went dry. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you murmured, trying to sound casual but failing.
You can’t meet his eyes. Not now. Not when he looks like that—every line of his body, every flicker of movement, pulling at something raw inside you. Your gaze drops instinctively, fixed somewhere on your lap, on the floor, anywhere but him.
Remus notices immediately. He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, and cups your face gently, tilting it so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, voice low, almost concerned. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Your eyes flicker down, almost by accident, to his lips. And then—he notices. A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “So… that’s what it’s about,” he says, voice a little husky, playful but hungry.
Your face twists in horror, heart hammering. Friendships, boundaries… this is crossing lines, isn’t it?
But before panic can take over, his hand shifts, sliding down to your lips. His thumb brushes across them softly, almost reverently, and then gently pulls them downward.
His gaze locks on your mouth, dreamy, unfocused, and he sighs, soft and full of awe. “You’re so… pretty, y’know that?”
Then, without warning, his thumb slides into your mouth. Your lips part instinctively, curling around him as you suck softly, tasting him, feeling the tremor of need and disbelief running through you.
“Fuck, dove…” Remus murmured, and the huskiness in his voice made your stomach tighten. His fingers pulled back, and the sudden absence left you aching, desperate, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped.
He leaned closer, eyes dark and searching, tilting his head just enough to catch your gaze. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked, voice low, almost a growl.
“Please…” you breathed, barely able to form the word.
Before you could finish, his lips crashed into yours, urgent and insistent. His body pressed into yours, driving you gently but insistently against the compartment wall.
The train rattled beneath you, but the only movement that mattered was his—the way he claimed you, the heat radiating from him, the fire in his kiss.
Through the hurried, consuming press of lips, he suddenly moved, gripping your waist and spinning you so he was pressed against the wall and you were directly in front of him.
He settled onto the seat with a soft thud, pulling you against him, your bodies flush, hearts hammering, breaths mingling.
His hands, hot and purposeful, trailed upward, cupping your jaw as he leaned in again. His fingers followed the line of your throat, thumb resting over your pulse point, dipping just under the neckline of your top. He broke the kiss for a heartbeat, letting his mouth drift up your cheek, nipping softly at your earlobe.
He knows he’s hit a sweet spot right there under your ear, because you feel his mouth spread in a grin.
“That’s my girl,” he says softly.
He’s feeling for the top fastening at the back of your neck, and you drop your arms, pressing your palms into the warm, sunbaked brick as he frees the buttons of your shirt.
Your gaze flicked instinctively toward the compartment door, nerves prickling as the muffled chatter and footsteps from the corridor seeped through the glass. For a fleeting moment you worried someone might catch you like this, lips already swollen from the press of his, your back warm against the plush seat of the train.
Remus, reading the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, let his mouth linger at the corner of yours before drawing his wand in a deft, practiced motion.
With a quiet murmur, the tip glowed faintly and the sounds beyond the compartment dulled, swallowed into silence. His lips curved into a sly smile as his breath ghosted over your ear. “Can’t have anyone hear us, yeah?”
He lets his hands dance over the thin fabric. His touches tease, cupping you in his hands and finding your nipples with his pinching thumbs. You gasp, hands scrambling against the wall to keep yourself up.
When Remus looks up at you again, the grin is still dancing over his face as your chest arches instinctively towards him in response.
“I’ve wanted this,” Remus says. He sounds purring, satisfied and smug, like he’s just gotten what he wants after throwing a temper tantrum and proud of his victory. “I’ve been waiting to touch you for so long.”
You moan, feeling the roughness of his fingers over the satin covering of the undergarment. His hands push, rolling to your ribcage and back up from under your chest to smear over you, and every last bit of fear is pushed away with his persistent touch.
You’re left only with the desire that’s been deep inside you since you first saw him looking this attractive, the desire you tried to deny and tame with logic and self-imposed rules, and finally accepting.
“And… if I say… I’ve wanted you too?”
You’re rocking against the compartment wall as your back arches into him.
“Oh, you wicked tease,” Remus says. There’s a crackle of glee in his voice, and he leans up, planting another quick kiss on your lips before slowly dropping down to his knees, tugging the rest of your clothing down with him.
"Take off your panties for me," Remus mumbles between your busied lips. His words draw a happy smirk, you follow his command, grounding yourself onto the floor, dizzied for just a quick moment, shoving your panties down your legs before jumping back in his lap.
Head thrown back, a needy moan vibrates in your tight throat as you move your hips against him.
"You're so wet, do you like how it feels?" Remus taps his cock over your clit, a needy whine leaving your lips as you nod. "Yeah, I love it."
Remus tilted your chin with a gentle touch, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he closed the distance. In an instant, the velvety press of his mouth met yours, sending warmth rushing through you as your body molded against his.
A soft hum escaped you into the kiss, your fingers sliding up the sides of his neck until they tangled in the sleek strands of his carefully combed hair.
What began as tender soon unraveled into something far more urgent—ardent, insatiable, almost feral in its intensity. Hunger coursed through you, searing in your veins, igniting every nerve with relentless desire.
When Remus finally drew back, a delicate thread of saliva glistened between your parted lips. His eyes lingered on your features, brimming with quiet adoration, before he murmured, “So cute.”
You brushed another fleeting kiss against his mouth, only to jolt when his hand descended to your ass. The startled sound that left you was swiftly chased by his low, amused laugh, threaded with pleasure.
"Get on your knees."
Single-handedly, Remus won your soul, heart, mind, body. He gained complete, fruitious love and desire from you.
Every feature from this divinely perfectly human you adored; from his kindness and consideration, every corner of his mind and heart, him as a whole.
Perfect, in every sense of the word.
With a fluttering heart, you sink down to your knees.
Once seated comfortably with your forelegs on the floor, you awaited further instructions with pleading eyes that fell down to his aching cock. "Are you comfortable Y/N?" You nod in reassurance, a small smile creeping your lips.
"Have I ever told you how absolutely stunning you are?" Remus looked, equally as starstruck as you were; eyes locked in a thick trance over your form, lingering in your desire riddled eyes. “You look marvelous on your knees for me, darling.”
And in his honeysuckle brown eyes, lust resided just the same.
"If only you knew how I look at you." You exhaled. It came out in a dreamy sigh, though you wanted to conjure a much stronger, confident voice.
"Oh? And what might that be?" His interest piqued, Remus's eyes pierce through yours.
"A God, a divinely perfect being." Remus chuckles, cheeks reddened, "I am far from a perfect being, my love." He offers a hand, and you take it, allowing him to brush his thumb over your knuckles, leaning down in his chair to kiss them.
"Can I touch you?" You ask, eager to learn his body, to please the man before you. Remus smiles, “Oh love, I am all yours to touch." Remus sits back up, leaning against the back of his chair.
Creeping your hands up his thighs,
Locking your gaze into his, you lean into his lap, taking the tip gently in your mouth. His eyebrows knit, adjusting to the sudden change in stimulation. The intensity of his eyes never faltered, not once, even as you tease his sensitive cock.
The leather squealed beneath the tightening grip Remus's hand has around the arm rest of the train seats, a low groan ensuing the contact from your sinful mouth. Hallowing your cheeks, you gently sucked on the tip, refusing to take in his full length.
He certainly wasn't complaining.
You were hoping he'd demand you to take it all in sooner, instead, you were reveling in Remus's low, soft whimpers.
"Be a good girl, stop teasing," He growled through grit teeth, his hand taking in a firm grip of your hair. You resisted the urge to smile, and complied.
Your head jerked forward, beginning to bob on his length, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat. Trying your hardest not to gag, tears welled in your eyes, still never leaving Remus's face.
You could tell he appreciated the eye contact.
Your jaw was beginning to ache, but you certainly didn't mind, especially when it was to please Remus.
Oh, how you would bend yourself to his will, as though every breath in your lungs had been spun for the sole purpose of pleasing him. You would not mind eternity at his feet, the cold stone of devotion pressing against your knees until time itself grew weary. For there was no God you had ever prayed to, no altar you had ever known, that could rival the sanctity of Remus Lupin.
In your eyes, there was nothing monstrous in him at all. Remus was no beast, but something sanctified—stitched together from scars and quiet tenderness, a soul carved of both ache and grace. He alone was worthy of devotion, the only altar you would ever kneel before.
Drool seeped from your mouth, dribbling down your chin. Instead of scratching the urge to reach up and wipe it away, your hand comes up to cup his balls, flesh soft and dainty in your palm.
Remus gently tugs your head from his dick, bouncing lightly as it was released from your mouth.
A thin trail of saliva attaches your lips to his cock as he draws back. You wipe the back of your mouth, looking up at him and panting slightly.
“We’re not done,” Remus says softly, and he grabs the sides of your face in his hands and draws you towards him again. This kiss is frantic, ravenous, deeply hungry as his mouth is over yours once more.
His taste—warm, heady, almost dizzying—mingles with your own as you clutch at his wrists, desperate to keep him pressed against you. The narrow compartment walls rattle faintly with the rhythm of the train, but all you feel is his body caging yours, his weight anchoring you in place.
Your back digs into the worn seats, hips straining forward to meet him, while Remus mutters broken curse words into your mouth, low and ragged, as though the very act of kissing you unravels him.
You let go of his wrists with a squeeze and move your arms out, running your hands along the expanse of his chest. His skin is warm and rises and falls rapidly with his heavy breaths. You moan, the sound slipping louder from your chest as you let go of him and let your hands fall back.
“Be a good girl, and don’t scream, okay?”
You nod, trying to keep yourself under control as much as possible, but it’s so difficult, damningly difficult. The worn velvet of the seat presses roughly into your back, turning almost pleasurable as he moves against you.
The aching need is building, roaring, longing to feel him inside you. Your cunt throbs, hot and wet, feeling his cock right under you.
You want Remus, you need him.
“My good girl,” Remus says, his voice raspy with lust. His eyes lock on yours, dark and love-struck, and he leans closer, lips barely brushing yours. “My fucking perfect girl… always wanted you, always loved you.”
You groan, adjusting your feet and standing a little further apart, and it’s just what he needs to angle his next rocking motion forward right into you, lubricated by your own slick arousal.
“Oh!”
It’s hard to keep your promise to be quiet, your knees immediately going weak at the feeling of his first thrust into you. This is even better, and Remus’s next thrust into you is smooth and deeper as you slump into the wall. You try to buck your hips back to meet him, but his pace is too hard and fast even as you try to move with him.
Remus moves with full force, hands holding your shoulders before shifting to brace himself over your head as he grunts with his thrusts. His muscles strain on either side of your head and his face, and your hands ball into fists against the brick.
He fills you up with every thrust with how hard he’s fucking you. His cock almost feels like you’re splitting apart. You feel your slick wetness against your inner eyes, pooling out of you with every stroke out and pump back in, and the moans ride out of you louder and louder.
“Shhh,” Remus hisses as your voice rises, and moves one of his hands from the wall over your head to cover your mouth, thumb into your cheek and side of his hand pushing between your lips. It cuts off your sound, and you lightly bite that space between his thumb and forefinger as your voice gurgles into a whimper.
Remus thrusts his hips up into you harsher and faster, the heat burning at the base of your stomach beginning to spread through your body as his thrusts fall into a frantic rhythm.
Your thighs begin to shake at the effort of keeping your body at this angle, and it turns into a full-body quiver. It races against the build of your orgasm, and you whine into his hand again as his cock rubs into you with each stroke. “Please, please please—you feel so good!”
“Hold onto me, hold tight,” Remus whispers roughly, and lets go of your mouth. His pace falters a little as you do what he says. You wrap your arms around his neck under his hair, and both of his hands come to scoop your ass — digging right into the back of your thighs as he hoists you up against the wall of the train compartment.
You gasp, half in pain at the sudden change of positions, and mostly in a shooting, delicious pleasure as he lifts you effortlessly over his cock. It makes his thrusts even deeper as he fucks you against the compartment wall— he leans his body into yours.
The pressure is electric, and you squeeze your thighs around him, crossing your ankles and bringing Remus closer to you.
“You…feel so good, so tight—so fucking perfect.” Remus says, his voice low but clear against you.
Your arms clutch over his back, digging your nails into the firm skin, arching your neck as you buck and moan under the warmth of his body, muffling yourself in his shoulder as you try to keep quiet.
Remus’s lips are moving again against your throat, suckling and kissing with an urgency as his mouth opens against you to leave love bites. “Gonna mark you up, love. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine now.” He whimpers out in desperation.
Your body trembles even harder as you struggle to take a clear breath, pinned between him and the wall — your entire body a live wire. His breath is just as wild, something hungry over your body that makes your skin prickle as his grunts and groans vibrate over you.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper into his shoulder. His cock stretches you, plunging deeper, deliciously pulling you apart as he comes in, rocks out, and slams back in again.
“How long…have you been waiting to get fucked like this?”
You scrape your nails up across his back, coming up to his shoulders again for balance. Your inner thigh muscles strain against the expanse of his body, and you try to clench your muscles to keep yourself against his hips.
“Since… since I saw you,” you admit jaggedly, briefly closing your eyes and hunching your shoulders into Remus, his breath hot on your neck. “I wanted you.. You looked so good, so hot.”
He makes a sound like a sharp laugh, like it’s all he can force out. “Tease,” he says, almost triumphantly. His fingers dig into your flesh and suddenly his thrusts move frantically. He’s fucking you harder, your composure fully coming apart.
Changing where his hands were positioned, one creeps to thumb your clit in rhythmic circles. A sheen of sweat lie on both of your bodies, uncomfortable against the fabric of your pants, still bunched at your hips.
The sound of flesh-on-flesh filled the compartment, almost as loud as the cries and wails that followed them.
You wouldn't last long at this rate; the speed, and roughness of his snapping hips, the sounds of his pants, his cries of pleasure, the way his brows were knitted on his face, mouth hanging open to catch his breaths as they left, the emotion burrowed in his eyes as they pierce yours.
You wish you could live in this moment forever; feel this vicious, wicked, brewing pleasure sparking in your core, the numbing—the tingling of your limbs, the heat that coursed like magma in your veins.
He leaned further down into you, taking your nipple in his mouth. You arch into his touch, feeling his tongue flick along your sensitive bud, teeth gently dragging along its flesh
“Remus!”
You force your head back, leaning against the wall as your body rides up and down with the force of his movements. Your body is racing towards the long-desired orgasm hard and fast with every thrust of his cock.
He catches your lips, and you whimper into his mouth as the kiss moves. Your fingers dig into skin just as his does— his moans caught in your throat as they come out. The tight, hot heat at the base of your stomach is so close to bursting. You’re ready, you’re so close.
“Remus.. I’m…I’m going to come, I‘m going to come,” you say, gasping, forcing the words as you try to stifle the cries with his kiss. But Remus leans back, immediately parting from your lips.
“I want to hear you. I want to hear you come for me,” he says, eyes flashing and teeth gritting in a devious smile.
You whimper, feeling your inner thighs quiver, unable to sustain any of it anymore. “Remus—”
“I want to hear you come, I don’t care if the whole fucking train hears,” he says, insistent. His voice, deep and raw, is enough alone to push you over the edge.
You whine again, but it’s weaker, your body so overstimulated.
“Let go,” Remus says, and you feel your whole body shudder as it breaks. And you scream. You feel your inner muscles tighten and spasm over Remus’s cock as the heat wave roars through you. It reaches up behind your stomach as you come apart over him.
Remus comes too with his own symphony of groans, grinding his hips deep into your tight core and pushing you directly against the wall—almost into the compartments as his frantic thrusts break rhythm.
You gasp, feeling him hot inside you as your nails dig into his shoulders, the waves of pain and pleasure crashing into each other.
He kisses you again as his cock throbs inside you, holding you close as the kisses come tender this time, fingers flexing and bending into you as both of you come down. Remus pulls out of you as he helps you back down on your feet.
Remus kisses you once more, tenderly as he pulls his pants back up, bending down to gather the bundles of fabric. He smooths out your pants and buttons up your shirt back again.
Remus’s hand rises, brushing a trembling fingertip against your cheek to wipe away the faint tears of pleasure that had escaped you.
“Are you okay, love? Was I too rough?” His voice is gentle now, threaded with concern, and you can’t help but smile up at him, suddenly feeling impossibly shy after the fire and recklessness of moments before.
You shake your head, words soft: “No… you were perfect.”
He laughs, low and amused, as if he notices the change in you, and leans closer. Your breath catches, heart stuttering, as his lips hover just above yours.
Then he pauses, teasing, and whispers, “Why so shy, baby? Thought you wanted me… because I’m so hot, huh?”
You’re dumbfounded, cheeks warming, because fuck—he really does look that good. The way the scarred lines on his face catch the light, the subtle smirk playing at his lips—he knows exactly the effect he has on you. Your thoughts scatter, caught between disbelief and desire, until finally, he closes the distance.
When his lips meet yours, it’s a kiss so impossibly soft it makes your knees weak. Gentle and passionate all at once, it lingers in a way that feels infinite.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes catch yours, dark and alive, and he straightens in the seat. “Don’t want you to think this was a one-time thing,” he says casually, though his voice holds a weight that makes your stomach twist.
“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion and curiosity tangled in your tone.
He laughs, that familiar, knowing sound, and slides back into the seat, gesturing for you to come closer.
You step forward, heart racing, and he catches your waist in his hands, looking up at you with those piercing eyes. “Do you think I’d fuck you like that if it was a one-time thing?” he asks, voice low, teasing, but laced with undeniable certainty.
“I mean it,” he murmurs, tilting his head so close your foreheads almost touch. “When I said I’ve always wanted you… I never saw you as a friend.”
Before Remus can even finish the confession that had your heart beating out of your chest, the compartment door snaps open. And there they are—Sirius and James—both grinning like they’ve just won some cosmic jackpot.
Your stomach drops. You’re nearly on Remus’s lap, hair a glorious mess, sweat glinting on your skin, and the love bites on your neck practically screaming your sins for all of Hogwarts to hear. James’s eyes widen as if he’s taking in the full tableau, every detail recorded for posterity.
Sirius throws back his head and laughs, a deep, roaring sound that makes you want to melt into the floor.
“Oh, Moony,” he says between chuckles, voice dripping with mischief. “Did you really think casting a silencing spell would get you not caught? You had the entire fucking train shaking, you horny dogs!”
Remus freezes, lips parted, cheeks blazing, while you cover your face with your hands, groaning.
James doesn’t even try to hide his grin, leaning casually against the doorframe like he’s judging a particularly scandalous performance.
Sirius leans in toward Remus, mock conspiratorial, whispering, “Next time, Moony… maybe try a compartment with walls that actually work.”
remus lupin x fem!reader x sirius black ( aka poly!wolfstar x reader )
remus leaves for a trip out of town, only to come back early and find the flat in shambles ( 2.3 k )
a/n: yes i am primarily a st writer atm but they were really just calling my name. imo this is lowkey alternate universe steddie. also just realised i write a lot of polyam content?? anyways i love wolfstar their dynamic feels similar to steddie so this felt kinda easy to write. also very sorry to the person i told that i was writing for jancy tonight. sorry
tags: smoking mention, filming sex acts/sex tapes, spitting, biting, marking, praise, degradation, slapping/toys/bondage mention, sirius and r are insane sex freaks, cumming inside, no protection, double penetration mention, sirius fucks remus AND r
The apartment is disgusting.
Remus is by no means the cleanest person, but he’s never left a space looking like this. There’s clothing all over the floor and the sofa is almost a metre away from its designated spot. One of the dining room table chairs sits in the middle of the living room, something quickly drying on top of it that Remus can’t quite place. A fruit bowl finds itself next to the kitchen table, apples and pears lying sadly on the floor.
If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought somebody had broken in.
Remus sets his backpack on the now crooked (how did that happen?) bag hooks and makes his way to the bedroom, carefully stepping over a knocked over painting to push open the door, now sporting a makeup smudge in your foundation colour.
Instantly, Remus is overwhelmed with the scent of sex and sweat, and he takes a step back into the hallway to gather himself. The bedroom is a mess. Your nice rug is littered with an array of different lingerie sets and all the toys hidden in the box in your closet lay out in the open. Remus isn’t sure he’s ever seen them in the daylight. The sheets on the bed are half-stripped off, with a naked you and Sirius right in the middle.
Sirius lies face down in the bed with you curled up in the middle. Bruises and bites are littered all over your bare bodies, and Sirius has one of his fancy ties still secured around one wrist. Remus feels his cheeks warming when he realises, upon further inspection, that there’s a dildo stuck to the headboard that he assumes is a stand-in for him. His jaw drops at the sight of your favourite lipstick smeared around the base.
“Sirius,” he whispers, gently shaking his shoulders, “Sirius.”
Sirius stirs, turning to face Remus with a squint. Remus almost guffawes at the state of his usually put together boyfriend. Sirius looks like he’s been put through the fucking ringer. His hair is knotted, he has half a set of earrings on and there’s a mark in the shape of your handprint on his pale face. Is there anything they didn’t try? Remus thinks.
“Remus,” his expression softens, his bracelets tinkling on his arm as he moves to rub his cheek, “you’re home.”’
Remus scoffs, but his heart swells regardless. “Yeah, I’m home.” he gestures to the bedroom, “If that’s what you can even call this place anymore. Jesus Christ, baby, It’s like a fucking tornado ripped this place to shreds”
Sirius plucks a cigarette from a carton on the bedside table, beckoning for Remus to light it for him. He inhales deeply and taps the ash into an empty condom box, sitting up on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his knees to inspect the room. “We got a bit carried away, I suppose.” Sirius shrugs, picking at his black nail polish.
Remus leans down to brush a lipstick print at Sirius’ hairline away. “You suppose? You dickheads. I leave for three days and I come back- early, mind you- to a flat destroyed by your sexual escapades.” he scolds, partially because he’ll have to help clean up your mess and partially because he didn’t get to see any of it happen.
Sirius reads his expression, blowing an o back up at Remus. “Don’t pout, darling. We filmed some of it, if you were wondering.” he states matter-of-factly, nodding to Remus’ trouser pocket, “Check your phone.”
Remus powers his phone back on, smiling softly at his wallpaper of you and Sirius at a restaurant, and switches off airplane mode. The message comes in immediately as he connects back to the home Wi-Fi.
pads 🖤 , 4:17 AM : we miss u moons ( 1 attachment )
Sirius gives him a little go on gesture and Remus opens it.
The video plays back a sound that makes Remus almost drop his phone.
Sirius is holding the camera in front of you, his tattooed hand gripping your fucked-out face expression, smushing your cheeks together. Remus can’t see the rest of your body or Sirius, but he can hear the slap of Sirius’ balls against your pussy and the moans leaving his mouth.
“Tell Moony how it feels, darling.” comes Sirius’ voice, the hand over your jaw easing slightly. Your eyes roll back into your head as you struggle to string a sentence together. Oh my god, Remus thinks.
“Feels so g-good, Remus. Feels like fuckin’ heaven.” you slur out, face almost knocking into the camera with every thrust that pushes you forward, “I’m being good for him, baby, like you asked.”
“Tell our boy how much you miss him- tell him how bad you wish he was here.” Sirius commands.
You obey, whining into his ringed’ hand. Your nose scrunches up in a way that lets Remus know you’re close to cumming. “Fuck, Sirius-,” you sniffle, “Miss you so much Remus, miss you so bad, baby.”
You're babbling now and Remus feels his legs go weak. “I wish you were here- fuck -wish you were here to fuck my cunt. Wish you were cumming in me.” Your eyebrow twitches upward and Remus can only imagine the feeling of you creaming all over his cock. “Shit, shit, shit!” you scream, the audio crackling as your voice peaks the sound. Remus’ baggy jeans now feel tight.
He looks back down. Sirius still looks impossibly bored- tapping his second cigarette in the make-shift ashtray, waiting for Remus to finish the video- but his cock says otherways. It stands tall and pink, tip already dripping precum.
Sirius pushes your head into the bed and brings the camera to his face. There’s a shot of him panting, sweat dripping down his forehead as he fucks you through your orgasm. He says nothing before winking at the camera and turning it back onto his point of view. Your perfect ass sits in frame, moving with every thrust Sirius pushes into you. His hand comes into frame to spank you and Remus can hear your muffled whines. “Come home soon, my darling.” Sirius says into the microphone, low and gravelly, “We’ll be waiting.” The video stops and reverts back to the first frame. Remus gapes at the two of you.
“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Sirius asks finally, in that unaffected voice of his, “It’s a real shame, darling. You missed all the action.”
Remus is on him in an instant, plucking the cigarette out of his bony fingers and stamping it under his boot. He pushes Sirius back onto the bed hungrily with his lips attached to his neck. Sirius reacts instantly, wrapping a leg around Remus’ back and pressing a kiss into his mouth. Sirius whines greedily as his hand rests on Remus’ nape, trying to push their faces closer together.
“You’re such a whore.” Remus bites over an already bruised spot on his’ neck and Sirius groans happily. “You wanted my attention, now you’ve got it.”
Sirius proves him right. “Spit in my mouth.” he breathes out, letting his tongue fall over his bottom lip.
Remus obliges, his saliva travel down from his mouth into Sirius’. He swallows greedily, making a show of letting it run down his throat.
“Remus?”
The boys pause their heavy petting, turning to stare at where you’re sitting up. You stretch, looking like a flower blooming and Remus beams. Your eyes finally assess what’s happening in front of you, and Sirius watches your eyes fill with the same crazed hunger from last night's video. You swallow thickly, gazing at Remus’ cock straining in his jeans and Sirius grins. “You’re back.” you say simply.
“I am,” Remus begins, “looks like you were busy while-”
Sirius grabs your arm to roughly pull you down to him, his lips weaving together with yours as you whine. You kiss down Sirius’ jaw, leaving his lips free. Remus glares at his boyfriend. “What?” Sirius says incredulously, “Shall we just sit here all day exchanging pleasantries, or are we going to fuck?”
“You’re a cunt, Pads.” Remus responds as your hand reaches up to trace the contour of his biceps, yanking him down to meet his lips. While you trace his teeth with your tongue, Remus slips his arm under your back, rolling so you land straddling his trim waist.
You immediately grind down into his clothed cock, leaving a wet patch of slick over the crotch. “Fucking hell.” Remus curses as you moan.
“Missed you,” you coo, your hands planted on his shoulders.
“Saw your video, sweet girl,” Remus pants, “I can tell.”
Sirius crawls over to both of you, his hands reaching under Remus’ top to pull it off over his head. You hover over Remus’ lap so Sirius can do the same for his trousers, taking his boxers along with his jeans.
Remus lays bare for the both of you, eyes blown wide as your bare cunt slides over his length. You do an experimental bounce over him, estimating how much of last night's ache riding Sirius still sits in your bones. Sirius laughs behind you, his hand wrapping around to cup your bare tits. “I think you’ll have to bounce a little higher than that.” he mumbles in your ear.
“What do you want, darling?” Remus coos, shifting his hips so your clit brushes his tip. Any higher and he would be able to slip into you. You sigh and fall back against Sirius’ chest softly.
“I want to show you how much I missed you.” You lift yourself up a little to pump his cock slowly, watching his pretty eyes flutter closed.
Suddenly, with a jolt he’s pushed backwards, back arching off of the bed, his chest rising as his eyebrows furrow. “F-fuck!” he moans, “Sirius!”
When you turn around, Sirius has a similar expression, having fully sheathed into Remus with no warning. Remus’ hands fly up to painfully grip your waist, his hands full covering Sirius’ marks from yesterday.
“A little warning would’ve been nice.” Remus scowls at your boyfriend. Sirius hooks his chin over your shoulder, an eyebrow quirked as he inspects Remus carefully. You know that gaze- the one that gets you all tingly and hot all over. Remus holds his composure well, but his length throbs harder underneath your finger tips.
“Wow,” Sirius sighs, “a couple days without a dick in you really does get you bitchy, huh?”
You giggle as Sirius retreats back behind you, giving Remus’ balls a little squeeze that has him groaning out all over again. “You’re insatiable, you two are. I’m living with fucking animals.” Remus grits out, “Bloody destroyed the house and each other and now you’re going to destroy me too.”
Sirius snorts, “Is she giving destroyer vibes to you, Moons?”
“Have you seen the state of our flat?”
“Can you both shut the fuck up?” you chime in, lining up Remus’ cock with your cunt.
“Alright,” Remus shifts his hips slightly, arms folding behind his head. He looks gorgeous in this state- hair disheveled as always and his eyes heavy and lidded. “Show me how much you missed me, sweetheart.”
You sink down slowly on his length, wincing at the stretch. Despite your multiple rounds with Sirius, Remus is much longer, his tip prodding at a sensitive spongy spot inside you. You whine as he splits you open and you almost fall face first into his chest when you bottom out. “So big,” you shudder.
You grind your hips into him slowly before testing out a small bounce. The movement sends shockwaves up your body as your pussy flutters around him. “Fucking squeezing my cock, my pretty girl.” he praises, “Good job, lovely.”
Sirius calculates your movements, timing his thrusts carefully so Remus feels overwhelmed with pleasure. His cock stretches out Remus’ tight muscle forcing a whine to fall from his lips. “Fuck, Sirius,” he pants, “Right there, darling. Good boy.”
You lean forward to lie on top of Remus’ chest, kissing up his neck all the way to his mouth. “I missed you, baby,” you peck the corner of his lips, “Missed this cock. Missed your pretty face.”
Remus’ big hand cups the side of your head to pull you in for a kiss. He tastes of mint gum and cinnamon as you suck on his tongue, almost gagging on it. You bite down hard after a particularly hard thrust and he practically growls, his hand snaking down in between your bodies to rub at your clit. “Wanna cum,” you mumble, “can I cum, Rem, please?”
He nods wordlessly, feeling his own balls tighten up as Sirius’ thrusts get more sloppy and frantic. “Me too, dove. Cum for me, you’ve been so good.”
His praise has you cumming on him with a shout, your thighs trembling as you grind down, working yourself through your orgasm. His hand guides your hips and you feel your wet cunt fill with his seed. By the sounds leaving Sirius' lips, you can only assume he’s also spilling out into Remus. “Remus, ohmygod,” you moan, “filling me up so good, baby.”
Your body finally gives out, and you collapse into his chest, his arms coming around to cocoon you. “Did so well, lovely.” he murmurs. Sirius’ falls on top of you, effectively sandwiching you in between the two men. Remus moves to immediately embrace him, tucking a long raven lock behind his ear. “Fucked me good, beautiful.” he praises Sirius who beams, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.
Heavy breathing remains the only sound in the room as you lie together. You could fall asleep like this, with the weight of Sirius on your back and Remus’ long arms encasing you both. You think you might’ve drifted off when Sirius’ voice brings you back to the present.
His head lifts off of your shoulder, and you feel him survey your shared bedroom.
“Fucking hell. We really did destroy the house, didn’t we, sweetheart?” he asks you.
Summary: Sirius had his little stash of enchanted sweets that he always claimed were "too strong for you." But you want to feel what he feels, to have fun like they do when they're soft and floaty and grinning. So when you’re left alone and curious, you make a mistake, eating an entire magical aphrodisiac meant to be split between four. What follows is hours of heat, begging, and unbearable need.
Requested by: Anon -- listen, I appreciate & loved this request so much omg, thank you so much! I hope it's not too much for you <3
A/N: PSA; LMAO this is filthy as hell.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, Dom!Remus, Mean Switch!Sirius, Soft Switch!James, Innocent!Reader, dom/sub, drug use (smoking weed/edibles), aphrodisiac, sex pollen effects, extreme body reaction, size kink/difference, begging, crying, rough sex, praise kink, degradation, fingering, belly bulge, squirting, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare, slight angst
Words: 6.7k
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AO3 Link
The Gryffindor common room was warm with an orange hue from the fire, and faint laughter crackling beneath the noise of pages turning.
You sat curled in the crook of James’s lap, your cheek against his chest as he read aloud from one of your shared textbooks, his voice steady and comforting, even though you weren’t listening anymore.
Sirius was pacing nearby, fidgety and barefoot, hair mussed from where he kept tugging on it. His shirt was barely buttoned, and he had that smug look that always meant he was up to something.
Remus sat curled sideways in the armchair with his long legs hanging over the armrest. The Marauder watched Sirius with the patience of a saint and the suspicion of someone who knew him far too well.
“So when exactly were you going to tell us?” Remus asked, lazily turning a page in his worn copy of The Hobbit.
Sirius grinned and flopped dramatically into the chair opposite. “Shipment came in this morning. You should’ve seen the owl. Grumpy bastard nearly bit me.
Remus’s brows lifted. “And what exactly did this grumpy owl bring you, hmm?”
James snorted against your temple. “Something that’s going to get us all banned from the tower if McGonagall catches wind of it.”
Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and leaned over to tap the side of his nose. “Let’s just say, the good stuff. Two rolls and three little boxes, plus the new batch of glitter ones. Stronger than last time.”
You blinked, sitting up slightly from James’s chest. “Glitter ones?”
All three of them paused, the kind of pause that made it very obvious they’d forgotten you were in the room.
Sirius immediately flashed you a charming, toothy grin. “Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, darling.”
James kissed the side of your head, smoothing a hand down your back. “Just stuff we use to unwind. Not really your thing, love.”
Remus, of course, watched you closest. His green eyes flicked over your expression, studying the soft knit of your brows, the way your lips parted just slightly.
“You’re curious,” he said simply.
You ducked your head back into James’ chest, cheeks going warm. “A little.”
Sirius barked a laugh, and James squeezed you gently. “Our little pup wants to go to the moon with us, eh?”
Remus didn’t laugh. His voice lowered just enough to draw your eyes to him. “Curious is one thing. Ready is another.”
~~~~~
The Astronomy Tower always felt like their place. Above the school, above the rules – high enough that it felt like the stars were listening. Sirius had a blanket spread on the stone floor and his cloak wrapped around his shoulders, loose like a shawl. He passed the joint to James with practised ease, laughing around a story you weren’t following.
James sat beside you this time, his hand playing absently with yours. You were snuggled between him and Remus, your head tucked on Remus’s shoulder, both of them warm in the cool night air.
Sirius exhaled smoke toward the stars. “Felt like the first time I saw Reg got absolutely slaughtered on firewhisky. Poor bastard tried to flirt with a mirror.”
James howled with laughter, and even Remus let out a soft chuckle as you rocked with the movement.
You watched them quietly, now hugging your knees to your chest, oversized jumper keeping you warm. They all looked so comfortable, maybe the thing they were smoking smelled funny, but you wanted to feel it too. Feel as relaxed and laugh as hard as they did.
Sirius caught you watching and winked. “Want some, darling?”
You hesitated. “I… maybe? I want to feel what you’re all feeling.”
Remus shifted beside you, his hand heavy against your shoulder, pulling your body until you’re flush against his chest, relaxing into his arms. “It’s not just the joint, love.”
You look up at him over your shoulder, “I thought what you were smoking was making you all feel funny?”
Sirius held up the joint between his fingers. “This, yeah. But I also took a little gummy about an hour ago.”
He grinned, proud of himself. “The kind that makes everything feel like clouds and lava all at once.”
James added helpfully, “We took them together before dinner, and mine just kicked in.”
You blinked. “So you’re not just high, you're extra high?”
“Basically, yes,” Sirius passed the joint to James, who took another slow drag, tilting his head toward the sky as he exhaled. “Which is why, love, you might want to wait. This stuff’s not for baby puppies.”
“I’m not a baby,” you mutter, leaning further into Remus with your arms crossed.
Remus’s gaze was sharp, though his touch around your waist was gentle. “No. But you’re ours. And we don’t want you to rush into something you don’t understand.”
James flicked ashes into a little enchanted jar. “We should show her the stash. So that she knows what’s what.”
“Not up here,” Remus said immediately. “Late, maybe. With all of us.”
James leans over, nuzzling your cheek and whispering, “We’ll take care of you, yeah? Always.”
You melt into his touch, giggling to yourself as he kisses all over your face.
Back in the dorm later, the boys let you sit on the edge of their bed as Sirius knelt beside the bottom drawer of his trunk, unlocking it with a quiet flick of magic.
Inside was a velvet-lined box. Several, actually.
Your eyes went wide.
“This,” Sirius began, holding up a shimmery purple chocolate, “is one of the glitter ones. Warmth, light body float, extra giggly.”
He picked up a deep blue one. “This? Time goes weird. Don’t recommend unless you’ve got nothing to do for twelve hours.”
The third is glittery pink, pretty. “This is one I had earlier. Not too strong, just makes you feel happy and relaxed.”
Another, red and shaped like a heart. “This one’s a little special. I was saving it. Makes you, well, hot. All over. Can’t think straight. Touch feels like lightning. Fun for group nights.”
You’re left with more questions than answers, “Hot?”
Remus’s hand slid gently over your lower back. “Aroused, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you breathed, eyes wide.
Sirius grinned wolfishly and snapped the box shut. “But not for you, not yet.”
James chuckled, pulling you into his lap. “Not until our good girl is ready. And when you are…”
He brushed his lips to your ear, biting on the lobe. “We’ll take care of every inch of you.”
Remus leaned down and kissed your forehead like a promise. “No rushing. No pressure.”
Sirius blew out a breath and flopped backwards onto the bed. “Can’t believe we’re this responsible now. Look at us.”
“Shocking,” Remus deadpanned.
You giggled and curled closer to James, your head on his chest as he rubbed your back.
And as you eventually drifted off in the tangle of arms and warmth, the drawer with the stash stayed in the corner of your mind. Tucked away. Waiting.
~~~~~
The sun was lazy and warm, stretching gracefully across the Hogwarts lawn. It was a rare afternoon, no rain, no wind, no assignments due, just grass, light and the soft hum of spring.
You were curled sideways in Sirius’s lap on a blanket they’d laid out beneath a tree, his arms draped lazily around your waist, his chin hooked over your shoulder. He smelled like cedarwood, smoke and the last of his cologne, and he was warm–too warm, probably, with how the sun bathed the back of his black humper. Not that he cared. Sirius loved the drama of melting for you.
Remus was stretched out nearby, one knee bent, flipping lazily through Advanced Potion Brewing, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his forearms so a couple of his scars were visible. James sat beside him, close enough that their legs brushed, his fingers plucking bits of grass and twirling them around. His hair was wild from Quidditch practice, cheeks still flushed pink from exertion.
Sirius blew on your neck. “You’re squirmy today, darling.”
“I’m not,” you mumbled, shifting again to get comfortable. “You’re warm.”
“You love my warmth.”
“I love your mouth shut,” Remus mused without looking up from his book.
“Rude,” Sirius chuckled against your ear. “You hear that? Verbal abuse. In front of a lady.”
James snorted. “You deserve worse, Padfoot.”
“You usually give me worse,” Sirius purred.
That earned a flicker of reaction. Remus’s eyes slid sideways, just enough to pin James in place.
“You do?” you asked softly, turning your head toward James. James’s ears turn pink.
“I mean, sometimes,” he said, tossing the grass away and sitting back. “When Moony lets me.”
Remus’s lips quirked. “When you earn it.”
You felt Sirius’s arms tighten around your waist slightly as he watched them, interest spiking like a cat watching prey. “Here we go,” he whispers into your shoulder.
Remus sat up slowly, his gaze still trained on James. “You’re getting twitchy again, love.”
“I’m fine,” James said a little too quickly, his hands now picking at the hem of his shirt.
“Mm,” Remus reached out, caught Jame’s chin gently between his long fingers, and turned his face to look up at him. “That mouth’s getting cheeky. You sure you don’t need help with that?”
James opened his mouth to sass, but Remus kissed him before he could get the words out. Firm, slow, all knowing. James melted instantly. His hands dropped, and you could see the tension leave his body in waves as Remus deepened the kiss.
Sirius chuckled lightly to himself, clearly delighted. “Gods, I love when he goes soft like that.”
You were watching, wide-eyed, as James whimpered against Remus’s mouth, just once, and Remus took that as an invitation to push him gently backwards until James was leaning on his elbows, staring up like he couldn’t remember what the sky looked like.
“Is he…” You trailed off.
“Melting?” Sirius answered, “Yeah, it happens every time.”
Remus finally pulled back, licking his bottom lip like he was tasting victory as James was flushed and slightly stunned.
You nodded slowly, heat pooling in your belly. The air felt warmer. Everything felt more.
You shifted in Sirius’ hold, curling in closer, and said before you could chicken out. “So if I wanted to try the glitter one, I’d just take a quarter, right?”
Everything stilled. Sirius barked a laugh and leaned his head back, grinning toward the sky. “Merlin, that’s adorable.”
Remus turned his head slowly, one brow lifting. “A quarter?”
“That’s what you said, Sirius–”
“I said a quarter of the purple one if you’re new, not the glitter,” he corrected, smirking. “The glitter one will have you think you’re a mermaid and trying to swim in the sink. It’s euphoric and bright and made, absolutely not starter level.”
James sat up again, still slightly flushed in the cheeks. “Isn’t the glitter one that makes everything smell like strawberries?”
“No,” Sirius said dramatically. “That’s the fizzy. Gods, none of you ever listen to me.”
Remus was now just watching you, head tilted slightly. “Do you even remember what the shimmer one does, love?”
You take a moment to think, “Hands glow?”
“Nope,” Sirius said gleefully, enjoying this moment far too much.
Remus gave you a look that was all affection, all fondness, but with just enough edge to remind you who was in charge. “Not quite ready yet, pup.”
You pouted, turning slightly to tuck your face into Sirius’s neck. “I’m trying.”
“I know,” Remus said gently. “And I love that you’re curious. Bu we’ll wait.”
James scooted forward and kissed your knee. “You’ll get there, sweetheart. And when you do…”
Sirius whispered against your ear, “We’ll make it a very good night.”
You squirmed, suddenly shy again. Sirius gave a lot to him and looked back toward James and Remus, watching the lingering way Remus’s hand rested on James’s thigh now. “Well. Somebody’s getting marked tonight.
James groaned and chucked a flower at him. Remus looked entirely unbothered.
Then the bell rang, echoing faintly through the grounds.
James sighed. “Quidditch. Come on, Padfoot. Let the poor girl go.”
Remus stood and stretched. “Prefect rounds.”
Sirius helped you to your feet and kissed your cheek. “Be good.” He winked. “Or don’t. We’ll find out later.”
James kissed you twice, once on the cheek, once on your lips, and whispered, “Our girl.”
Remus’s hand trailed briefly along your lower back as he passed. “We love you. No exploring the drawers while we’re gone.”
Your cheeks burned. “I won’t!”
They walked away with teasing murmurs and shoulder bumps, Sirius turning around to blow you a kiss before Remus shoved him forward.
You sat back down in the grass with the scent of them still lingering in the breeze, heart whole, belly warm.
An hour passed before you stood from the lawn and decided to head back to the shared dorm room. It was always eerily quiet without any of them in there.
Sirius had left a mess of clothes scattered across the floor, his leather jacket draped over Remus’s desk chair, and James’s broom sat resting against the foot of his bed. The scent still lingered on the pillows, and it was comforting, but not enough to last.
You were curled in the centre of their oversized bed, arms hugging your legs, chin tucked between your knees. Why was it always so boring when they weren’t around?
You did try just to relax, listening to Remus’s records or reading some of your books, but the drawer kept catching your eye.
Maybe you weren’t ready. But you were tired of feeling left out and being treated like a baby. They all got to float and laugh and kiss and touch each other like nothing in the world could ever go wrong. And you watched that.
You watched to show them you could handle it, that you weren’t just the sweet, sheltered pup. You could be bold. You could belong.
You sat on the edge of the bed, chewing your lip, staring at the drawer like it might open itself.
And then you stood, the drawer wasn’t locked. You opened it slowly, tentatively. Inside the velvet boxes, little tins, colour-coded chocolates and candies lay. You tried to remember which one was which.
“Purple. Quarter. Starter one.”
You squirted. Was the purple one the shimmer? Or the calm one? Your eyes landed on a deep red heart-shaped sweet in a velvet box. Small. Pretty. Safe-looking, not remembering the specifics of the effects that Sirius had explained.
You plucked it out of the pouch and turned it over in your hand. You bit off a corner, just a nibble. Then, another little bite until the sweet was consumed completely.
It tasted like a blend of rose and strawberry, with a slight hint of spiciness, and your heart pounded as you waited, but nothing happened.
No floating, no laughing or waves of bliss.
Your shoulders sank. “Seriously?”
You gave it a few more minutes, paced a little, even sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for anything. But there was no difference. Your tongue still worked. Your mind was clear. Nothing was spinning—no sherbet flavours or dreamy sighs.
Disappointed, you changed into your uniform and headed down to dinner.
The Great Hall was busy, buzzing with students. The candlelight above seemed a little brighter tonight, but you figured it was just your eyes adjusting.
You found them halfway up the Gryffindor table. Sirius immediately scooted over nd patted the bench beside him. “There’s my girl.”
James beamed from the other side of the table. “You look sweet enough to eat.”
Remus gave you a look. A very Remus look. Like he was scanning you for signs of trouble, and your heart did a nervous flutter.
But then he smiled and tugged you gently to sit between him and Sirius. “Missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you said quickly, averting your eyes, always embarrassed when all their eyes are on you.
Sirius leaned over and kissed your temple tenderly, and your breath caught. For just a moment, your skin tingled.
Weird.
You tried to shake it off. It was probably just your imagination or nerves.
Reaching for your goblet, your hands were just the tiniest bit shaky.
“Eat something,” James encouraged. “You’ve gone all flushed.”
“She always does when she has Remus’ full attention on her,” Sirius says proudly, planting another kiss on your skin. “Don’t worry, pup, I do too.”
You smiled, biting back a laugh, and then you felt it.
A low throb in your belly.
You shifted on the bench. Remus was buttering a roll. His hand brushed your knee under the table—just casual, absent-minded affection.
You nearly jolted. Your thighs clenched painfully close. Heat licked up your spine.
You took a shaky breath, eyes flicking to the doorway, the ceiling, anywhere but them.
Sirius reached across you to steal a bite from James’s plate, his arm brushing your chest. “Oi, Prongs, don’t hot the potatoes, love.”
James rolled his eyes and leaned across the table closer to you, reaching over the centre to grip your hand. It was meant just to be a soft show of affection. That’s when you felt it for real.
The ache. Low. Deep. Hot.
Your underwear was damp. Then soaked. Like a tap had opened up between your thighs, but it was from your cunt. You froze. Your thighs were wet.
Your stomach cramped sharply, curling inward like a clenched fist. “Oh god,” you whispered, not being able to stop yourself.
Remus looked at you sharply. “What’s wrong?”
You forced a smile, unable to meet his eye, picking up your fork. “N-Nothing. Just a stitch.”
Sirius leaned in closer. “You alright, darling?”
Your eyes burned. Panic bloomed in your chest. You could feel it pooling beneath you, heat, slick, an unbearable pressure in your lower belly as if you needed something and didn’t know what.
You whimpered without meaning to.
Remus’s eyes narrowed, concerned. “Love…”
James’s hand is across the table again, holding onto your wrist, his thumb stroking your skin in soothing strokes. “Wha’ts hurting?”
His touch was making the sensation worse. “ I-I just need–” you couldn’t finish.
You stood up abruptly. Too fast.
Sirius tried to reach for you, but you were already sliding out of the bench on unsteady legs. “Bathroom,” you choked out. “Be right back.”
And you ran. You bolted from the Great Hall, barely aware of your feet hitting the stone, of the voices calling after you.
Your hands trembled as you pushed open the nearest door and locked it behind you, sagging against it with a sob.
Your underwear was soaked. Your thighs were dripping. Your clit was a hard nub, filled with blood and throbbing. The cramps were worse, like your body was begging, screaming, clenching for something, but nothing could fix it.
You were shaking so violently that your teeth were chattering together. You slid to the floor, pressing your palm against your belly, trying not to cry.
You were so stupid. You’d wanted to prove something. To feel like them. To be strong, like Sirius. Cool, like James. In control, like Remus.
But now your body was on fire. And your mind was foggy. And you were so wet that it was running down your legs. And you didn’t even know how to make it stop.
They were going to be so angry. Or worse, they’d be disappointed. You buried your face in your hands.
Outside, the sounds of the castle continued: laughter, footsteps, the clinking of cutlery. But in here? You were falling apart.
~~~~~
The dorm door slammed behind you as you stumbled inside, your fingers trembling before you collapsed onto the edge of the magically sized bed, big enough for all four of you.
As you curled into a ball, all you could feel was how soaked the sheets became the second you sat down. You were panting. Seating. Your skin was boiling. Every inch of you is too tight, too sensitive. Your thighs were slick with arousal, and your panties were drenched; the cramping in your belly was sharp, needy and awful all at once.
You whimpered and clutched at your stomach. “Please…”
You didn’t know who you were begging. Everything hurt. You needed something, anything, to make the pain go away; you just didn’t know what to do.
You’d been stupid. So stupid.
The door suddenly bangs again—voices and rushed steps.
You barely lifted your head before they were flooding in.
“Pup?” All three of your boyfriends stopped dead.
You were curled up on the bed, trembling, your skirt bunched around your hips, one leg pulled up, and your panties were completely soaked, nearly translucent, sticking to your thighs.
The scent of your arousal hit the air like a spell. Sirius was the first to move, instinct sharp and immediate. “Fuck. Fuck, darling–” he was at your side in seconds, on his knees in front of the bed, hands hovering but not touching. “What happened?”
You sobbed, grabbing at his shirt, nails digging into the fabric. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening– it hurts, I can’t– I’m so– I’m so wet–”
Remus moved slowly, deliberately, coming up behind you as Sirius cradled your face. James hovered near the door, stunned, lips parted.
Then Remus’s eyes flicked to the drawer. It was open. Wide open. And a red velvet box was missing.
Realisation hit him like lightning. “No. Tell me you didn’t–”
“I just– I wanted– to feel like you– to be strong–” your voice cracked, high and frantic. “I only took the one. I thought it was the nice one–”
Sirius's breath hitched. “What colour, love?”
“Red,” you whispered.
James finally moved, crossed the room and dropped to his knees at your other side. “Oh, love–no.”
“That was the aphrodisiac”, Remus said tightly, jaw clenching. “The strongest one.”
Sirius cupped your face gently, his voice tense. “That was meant to be split for the four of us. Together. You weren’t–fuck, darling, you weren’t ready for that.”
“I know,” you whimpered. “I know, I didn’t know– I tried to be good–”
Remus turned to Sirius. “How strong was it?”
“Really fucking strong.”
Your hips rolled without meaning to. “Please–” you sobbed, tears dripping down your neck. “I can’t– everything hurts– I need – please touch me–”
James climbed onto the bed, stroking your face. His hand found your inner thigh, and his breath hitched. “She’s soaked, Moons. Dripping everywhere.”
Remus’s jaw ticked. “We’ll help you, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, year?”
You nodded frantically, gripping onto the pillow beneath your head and moving it between your legs, rocking your soaked core against it, needing some form of relief.
“Good girl,” Sirius said, voice low, eyes locked on where you’re riding his pillow between your thighs. “You’re gonna let us take care of you. You’ve been so brave.” Your body trembled, completely overwhelmed.
You didn’t even realise you were crying until Remus kissed the tears off your cheeks.
“Love,” he tried to remain calm, encouraging as his thumb brushed your soaked lips, “You have to breathe. Deep, slow. You hear me?”
You nodded, but the ache in your cunt was so loud it made everything else feel fuzzy. You were soaked, clenching around nothing, slick running down your thighs, pooling under you, your clit swollen and throbbing. It hurt. Everything hurt in the best and worst ways.
Sirius groaned deeply behind Remus. “She’s fucking ruined already, and we haven’t even touched her.”
James pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his voice soft and close to your ear. “You did so well trying to wait for us, honey. We’ve got you now.”
“I-I need–” you gasped. “It’s not enough, nothing's enough, please–”
Remus’s hand moved down between your thighs, two fingers flipping through your soaked folds, “Fuck, you’re burning up, love.”
You whimpered at the slightest contact, throwing the wet pillow across the room to give Remus more room. His fingers hadn’t even pushed in fully yet, just brushed past your clit as your hips jerked, another gust of juices coating his scarred knuckles.
“Sensitive little thing,” Sirius purred. “Bet your clit’s screaming, huh? All swollen and throbbing, my poor pup.”
“Please–” you sobbed again. “I’m sorry, I just-I just wanted to feel what you do–”
“And now you’re stuck, hm?” Sirius cooed mockingly. “Look at you. Our precious girl’s just a fuckdoll now. Dumb and leaking.”
Remus shot him a look, but Sirius didn’t stop; he just looked hungry. James kissed your temple, helping you stay focused and grounding you in the process. “We’ll help you, my love. You’re notion trouble. Just let Moony take the lead.”
Remus nodded once, getting into the headspace. “James, make sure the pillows are under her head and then get her legs up, keep her thighs open.”
“On it.”
“Sirius, grab the towels, she’s going to soak through the sheets.”
“Already is,” Sirius chortled, but obeyed.
Remus’s fingers slid inside you, just two, and the sensation was already too much, not from pain but from relief.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he said, voice low and soothing, but his cock was visibly straining behind his trousers.
Your inner walls, warm and tight, clenched immediately, spasming hard enough that you nearly came on the spot. Remus stilled. “You’re not even going to last, are you?” he said in the kindest way, eyes locked on where his fingers were sunk to the knuckle. “That desperate, you’re going to cum from just this?”
“More–” you shouted, head tipping back onto the pillows James had fluffed. “Please, it’s not– Remus–more–”
He pushed a third finger in. Your whole body shook.
James kissed your knee as he held it back. Sirius slides beside you again, licking a drop of sweat from your cheek. “Look at you. Messy little thing.”
Then came the fourth finger. You came hard, a violent, gusting squirt that soaked Remus’s hand and frenched the towel Sirius had shoved under your hips. Your scream cracked, raw and high, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you tried to catch your breath.
“There she is,” Sirius bragged, watching your juices drip down Remus’ wrist. “I told you she was ready for four.”
Remus didn’t move, but just held his fingers inside you as you trembled and whimpered, blinking up at him as your tears still fell. “You’re still clenching, are you still not done?”
You shook your head frantically, “It’s not enough.”
Sirius leaned in, grinning, “Greedy little pup, aren’t you? Bet you’d take five if Moony let you. You’d fucking split for it, wouldn’t you?”
Remus shot him a warning glance. “No one’s putting five fingers in her.”
“But she wants it,” Sirius said mockingly, kissing your temple like it was a prize. “Poor baby doesn’t know what to do with herself.”
“I’ll show her what she needs.” Remus pulled his fingers out with a wet, squelching sound. You whined at the loss, trying to chase his hand with your hips. He stripped off his shirt, then unbuckled his belt, eyes never leaving you. His cock was massive, girthy and flushed.
You moaned, reaching for him. “Please–need to be full–”
“Deep breathe, love.” His voice held a gentleness that calmed your soul but still had authority. “You’re going to take it. But I’m not rushing and hurting my girl.”
He lined up and began pressing in, so slowly. Too slowly. You thrashed beneath him, tears in your eyes, trying to roll your hips to take more, but James still held you open firmly, keeping you in place.
Remus groaned, his eyes closing for just a second as his hair began to stick to the perspiration on his forehead. “You’re squeezing me so tight already. Try to relax for me.”
James stroked your inner knee as your lips parted in a silent scream. “She’s gripping him like a vine. Baby, you’ve got to relax for him, if you want him so bad.”
“Can’t–feels too good–urts but feels– I want it all–”
He was halfway in when you sobbed, “Remus–please–cock-ned it, need it all. Deeper!”
“You’re taking me so well,” he grunted, “So full already, look.”
He took your hand and placed it just above your pubic bone. You gasped, head shooting up as you felt the slight bulge in your belly. “Feel that?” he said, breathless. “That’s me. Deep in your tiny cunt.”
You came again. Screamed, soaked him, soaked the towel, soaked everything. Remus moaned, finally bottoming out, holding you still as you trembled beneath him, twitching and crying and shaking like you were going to fall apart.
You were shaking when Remus pulled out of you. A fresh gush following him, your pusy stretched and fluttering now, aching for more. You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before the cramps came back.
Deep, hot, mean little twists low in your belly, like your pussy was begging to be filled again.
“Fuck–” you gasped, back arching, hands clawing for the nearest body. “Please–it hurts again– need–need”
Sirius was on you in seconds. “Shh, pup,” he taunted mockingly, climbing between your spread thighs. “You had the whole sweet, didn’t you? Greedy, greedy girl. Didn't even leave any for us.”
“Hurts,” you cried, reaching for him. “I can’t–Sirius–need you–”
He sat up, grunting as he slapped his now exposed cock against your swollen clit. The overwhelming lightning of sensations caused you to scream once again, trying to roll your hips, but he grabbed them firmly.
“Stay still, pup,” he warned, licking his lips. “You’re not in charge tonight. I’m going to look after you, remember?”
He looked wrecked, eyes blown wide, clothes gone, pale chest heaving, black strands of hair sticking to the side of his sweaty face, but he was there, so focused on you, so in control.
“You want to cum?" he asked, lazily running the tip of his cock through your soaking labia. “Want to soak me like you did Moony?”
You nodded frantically, mewling pathetically. Sirius just grinned.
“Then you’ll cum when I say so. Not a moment before.”
You nodded desperately, needing him to do anything. “Please–”
“You asked for this, just keep looking at me, ok? So I know you’re still with me, darling," he growled, pushing inside you in a single, brutal thrust.
He was lengthy, hitting something high up in your cunt that made your vision flash white, the slight bulge in your lower belly returning with his movements. “Fuck–she’s tighter than ever," he said, amazed, pulling out and slamming back in. "You’re sucking me in, pup, like your cunt knows I’ll fill it better than anyone.”
You screamed again, eyes focused on him, trying to do as instructed. And Sirius laughed, a wicked sound as he started fucking you fast. His hips slapped against your overstimulated clit with every thrust. Your body jerked and twisted, eyes rolling back as another orgasm tore through you.
Sirius didn’t even have it in him to chastise you for orgasming with his permission, loving how your body was reacting to him, like it was sucking him in as hard as it could, not wanting to let go.
“You’re crying?” he cooed, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Poor thing, so overwhelmed.
His voice dropped lower, almost tender. “But you’re doing so well for me, darling. Taking it so deep, letting me ruin you. So fucking perfect like this.”
You sobbed, clinging to him. “Love you–love you so much–”
His breath hitched as his movements slowed. “Yeah?” he whispered. “Even when I fuck you like this?”
You nodded, and he groaned like it hurt him. “God, I love you too,” he gasped, snapping his hips into you even harder. “So fucking music, it makes me insane.”
Another orgasm crashed over you, your thighs smappemed in James' hold, your back arched off the bed. You were crying so hard you couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't stop shaking.
You didn’t even realise he was cumming until you felt it, hot, thick spurts deep inside, and his hand cupping the bulge in your belly with possessive pride.
“Look at you,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “So full, all mine.”
And then as he pulled out, the cramps came back.
Your hands trembled, already crying out in pain, as another body moved over you, the grip on your legs easing slightly.
“J-James," you whimpered for him, blinking up at him with big, wide eyes.
Your thighs were slick and raw. Your clit was throbbing, swollen and untouched for too long.
James kissed you gently, not caring that your face was covered in tears and sweat. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
He didn’t tease like Sirius. He knew what you needed, so without a moment of hesitation, he lined up, slid inside in one slow motion, groaning low as he bottomed out.
With gentler hands, he scooped your legs back up, wrapping them around his waist, holding you still as you fluttered around him, Sirius’s cum mixing with your slick on your thighs.
“You’re so wet, pup. So warm. You feel like heaven.”
You cried out again; he tenderly kissed away your tears. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered against your cheek. “You’ve taken us all like a good girl. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us. You know that?”
You nod in your delirious state. And then he started to move, not fast and hard but purposeful, making sure you feel the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls. You felt every inch, every praise of love, of devotion as he fucking you through the pain.
“Let go of me,” he said, voice shaking as he kissed the tip of your nose, forehead resting against yours, chest to chest. “Cum on me again, baby. Let me feel you.”
You did, and he followed, soft moans into your ears, his hands shaking as he filled you, holding you tightly. You were sobbing by the end, no longer sure of what, anymore.
Your body was gone, empty, used and loved. Your brain was cotton. You could feel the cum leaking out of you, the wetness between your thighs a mess of Sirius, James and your juices. You were twitching, limbs weak, moaning softly with every little cramp.
“Hurts again,” you whimpered, exhausted. Remus climbed back onto the bed.
“I know, love. Let me help you one more time.”
He guided himself back in, being careful, but your body still melted into the touch. The cramps eased instantly.
You sighed, eyes fluttering closed.
“Cocking warming only,” Remus said, brushing your hair from your face. “No more thrusting. Just keeping you full. That’s all.”
James wrapped you in his arms, Sirius pressing kisses to your fingers, your temple, your wrist.
“You did so well for us,” James whispered.
“So proud of you,” Sirius added.”
Remus kissed your lips. “Sleep, little one. We’ll keep you safe.”
And you did.
~~~~~
You weren’t sure what woke you. You were warm, too warm– your skin damp with sweat, your thighs slick and trembling, and your throat burned like you’d been screaming.
You had been. That much came back quickly. So did the ache.
Between your legs, dull and constant, a deep, used soreness that made your breath catch. Your cunt felt raw, sensitive and swollen. Every part of you was heavy and aching and still soaked.
And Remus was still inside you.
You whimpered softly. He stirred at once. “Love?” his voice was a low rasp, thick with exhaustion but sharp with concern. “Are you alright?”
You shook your head, tears springing hot and fast. “Hurts,” you croaked, barely a whisper. “Remus–it hurts…”
He shushed you instantly, cupping your cheek with one warm, steady hand. “I know, I know, baby,” he said calmly. “I’ve got you. Let me out, gonne b quick, alright?”
Not nodding, lip trembling and bracing yourself, not able to relax at all despite his calming words.
Remus eased out slowly. And you cried. Not just from the pain, though the pain was there, in your stretched, raw and puffy hole that leaked his cum from who knows when, and twitched with overuse, but from everything. The pressure, the love, the intensity of your night. You'd never felt so broken open and so held all at once.
The sob hit before you could stop it, and then you were choking on it, sobbing silently, tears streaking down your face as your body curled in on itself. Remus didn't hesitate.
He pulled you to his chest, tucking you against his heart, shielding your overheated body with his own as his lips pressed to your temple.
“I’m so proud of you. You did so good for us, Pup. You were perfect for us. You’re safe now.”
You couldn't speak, your throat so raw that your voice was gone. You could only nod weakly into his chest, gasping softly against his collarbone.
“Is she alright?” came James’s voice a moment later, quieter than usual.
She’s hurting,” Remus said gently. “But I’ve got her. You can go back to sleep, love.”
James hops out of bed, ignoring the suggestion. “Paindraught, I should have one left from my last Quidditch injury.”
Remus sat up just enough to help you sip it from the vial he held to your lips. It was bitter, but cool, and relief came quickly, easing the sharpest edge of the ache. Not all of it, but enough to stop crying and just breathe.
You heard the sound of water pouring into a glass next, and James returned with it, along with a cool rag.
“Hey, honey,” he said, brushing a hand down your back. “You were screaming for hours. Your throat must be raw. Drink for me, okay?”
You did. Then you were lying back again, your head in James’s lap while Remus wiped your sticky thighs gently with a cloth, careful around your swollen pussy. He kissed the inside of your knee. “We’ll bath you later. Just rest for now.”
However, you couldn’t rest, because you had caught sight of Sirius, who hadn’t spoken. Just watched from the edge of the bed, shirtless, arms crossed, eyes dark and aching with guilt.
James caught sight of him too. “Sirius.”
He blinked like he’d been pulled from a daze. “I shouldn’t have– fuck– I knew she wasn’t ready for that much. She had the whale fucking thing. I should’ve labelled it better. I should’ve stopped–”
“Mistakes happen, and this is not on you, my love,” Remus said, still cleaning your body. “And we all gave it to her last night, not just you.”
“She couldn’t fucking speak,” Sirius whispered, eyes flicking to your body. “She’s never screamed like that before. She basically passed out at the end, Remus.”
“And she’s safe now. We didn’t go too hard on her last night, we were all checking in on her, you know that.”
“But I was mean to her–”
“She loved it,” James cut in, a small, warm smile on his lips. “She always loves it when you’re mean. Because you’re not really, you’re just Sirius, it was just a scene, just in the moment like always.”
Siriu’s mouth twisted like he didn’t believe him. You blinked, still foggy, but reached out a hand toward him. He froze. Then, I crawled down the bed towards you.
“I’m sorry," he whispered, “I shouldn’t have gone so hard, I should have locked them up. I love you too fucking much to see you in pain like that, Pup.”
You reached out to Sirius, in your tired state, showing him that you wanted to be with him. He instantly pulled your body into his lap, “I’ve got you,” he whispered over and over. “I’ve got you.”
The boys settled around you soon after. Remus leaned against the headboard, a book in one hand, the other resting on your thigh. James curled at your feet, legs draped over yours, tracing your calf with his fingertips.
And Sirius, he held you like he didn’t want to let go.
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, brat taming, rough sex, multiple orgasms (m), f orgasm, dom/sub dynamics (Dom!Hotch and Sub!Reader), deliberate disobedience, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, light bondage, reader being gagged, creampie, cum everywhere, possessive!Hotch, aftercare. L/N used twice.
Summary: You deliberately try to undermine and piss Hotch off in the field so he'll be rough with you behind closed doors.
A/N: If this stinks I'm sorry. I wanted to try and write a fic that wasn't completely in past tense to challenge myself.
But also…. OH MY GOD MY PANTIES ARE SO WET AFTER WRITING THIS 🤤🤭🥴
You’re pushing it today, and you fucking know it.
Every time Hotch opens his mouth to give an order, you directly disobey him, already moving in the opposite direction of what he wanted. Every time he says “hold position,” you take three deliberate steps forward. And every time he shoots you that warning look, the one you know all too well, the one that makes your knees weak and your mouth dry, you smile back like you’re daring him to do something about it right here, right now, in front of God himself and the entire Kansas field office.
He doesn’t. Not yet.
He just keeps that muscle ticking in his jaw that clicks every time he's trying to keep himself professional and his voice clipped, low, and lethal. He knows what you're doing and is mentally tallying every single disobedient act you decide to display for later score.
Morgan keeps glancing between the two of you like he’s waiting for the detonation. Prentiss pretends to be fascinated by the geographic profile. And Reid, poor oblivious Reid, has (actually) backed all the way up against a filing cabinet, as if distance might save him from whatever’s coming when Hotch finally blows.
Rossi, of course, is enjoying the show.
You’re leaning over the evidence table, deliberately bending farther than necessary to reach a photo, when Rossi sidles up beside you.
“You trying to get fired, kid?” he mutters under his breath. Already knowing exactly what you're playing at. Rossi knows Hotch too well, knows you too well. And has definitely figured out just what your relationship entails behind closed doors.
You don’t even look at him. “Just keeping him on his toes, David.”
He hums, unconvinced. “He’s gonna put you on your knees later, and not in the fun way.”
You grin, sharp and sweet, when in reality you should've been mortified at the words coming out of Rossi's mouth. “We’ll see.”
Hotch’s voice cuts across the bullpen. “L/N. My six. Now.”
You straighten slowly, brushing imaginary lint off your shirt. “Yes, sir.”
You saunter over, boots echoing, and stop just inside his personal space, close enough that he has to tilt his head down to glare at you.
The rest of the room pretends they’re suddenly very very busy. And definitely not listening to whatever is about to happen between the two of you.
“You’re off the raid,” he says, voice low enough that only you can hear the tremor of fury underneath. Meaning that you've just struck bingo, and Hotch is giving you exactly what you were playing for later.
You blink, all mock innocence, before you raise your brows at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re staying here with the locals.”
You laugh, actually laugh, straight in his face. “No, I’m not.”
“That wasn’t a request.” His eyes flash, his pupils dilating, darkening. You can tell that he is trying to claw his way out of Hotch, begging to be released upon you.
“And this isn’t a negotiation.” You step closer, dropping your voice to a purr. “You want me on a leash, Aaron, you’re gonna have to put it on me yourself. In front of everyone. Go ahead.” You cross your arms over your chest.
His nostrils flare. For one electric second, you think he might actually do it, might snap right here, take his belt off, and drag you out by the back of your neck like you both know you want him to.
Instead, he exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, trying to ground himself before he says something too unprofessional. When he finally speaks, he leans down to whisper in your ear through gritted teeth, “Fine! You’re with me. You leave my sight for less than .01 seconds, I'll cuff you to the SUV and leave you in the car overnight like some abandoned pet left on the side of the road. Try me.”
You lick your bottom lip. “Promise?”
He turns on his heel before he does something he can’t take back in front of twenty witnesses and the entirety of his team.
The raid is a clusterfuck waiting to happen, and you are the match.
Hotch wants to go in quietly through the back. You’re already halfway across the parking lot toward the front door before he grabs your vest and yanks you back.
“Jesus Christ, do you have a death wish today?” He says, leaving little to no discussion in his tone, you know that tone all too well, even strive to get it out of him on occasion... well, more times than not.
You spin, grinning up at him. “Only if you’re the one pulling the trigger.”
He looks like he’s two seconds from gagging you with his own tie and bending you over right here, right now.
Morgan’s voice crackles over comms. “Hotch, we’re set on the east side. You two coming or getting a room?”
You reach up and key your own comm without looking away from Hotch. “We’re coming, 'baby girl'. Unit Chief’s just having a little performance anxiety.” You can already imagine Morgan's confused look at the nickname.
Hotch rips the earpiece out of your ear and crushes it under his boot.
You whistle, low and a little playful. “That’s destruction of FBI property, sir. Very naughty.”
He grabs the front of your vest this time, hauling you in until you’re nose to nose. There he is. “You do not speak again until this unsub is in cuffs. Not one fucking word. Nod if you understand.”
You nod, solemn and mocking. Already planning to break that exact promise.
He releases you like you’re radioactive.
The warehouse is a maze of rusted machinery and broken skylights. Moonlight stripes the concrete floor. You move ahead of Hotch, deliberately, clearing corners before he can tell you to wait.
He hisses your name, barely audible.
You ignore him.
You hear the unsub before you see him: panicked breathing, the clatter of a dropped magazine. He’s reloading behind a stack of crates twenty feet ahead.
You raise your weapon before you step into the open.
Hotch swears viciously behind you and moves to cover, but you’re already talking.
“FBI! Drop it!”
The unsub spins, wild-eyed, gun up.
You don’t flinch.
Hotch is shouting your name now, furious and afraid all at the same time, but you keep your voice steady, taunting. “Come on, sweetheart. You wanted us to chase you. Here I am.”
The unsub’s finger tightens on the trigger.
Hotch’s arm hooks around your waist from behind, and he yanks you sideways, throwing you both sideways behind a forklift just as the shot rings out. Concrete explodes exactly where you were just standing.
You land half on top of him, ears ringing, heart slamming against your ribs.
He’s shaking with rage, hands gripping your vest so hard the straps bite.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls into your face.
You grin, breathless, high on adrenaline and the feel of him under you. “You’re welcome.”
Another shot pings off metal above your heads.
Hotch flips you onto your back, shielding you with his body, weapon already up. His voice in your ear is lethal. “Stay. Down.”
This time, you finally listen.
He rises in one fluid motion, one precise shot to his leg, and the unsub drops like a puppet that just had its strings cut.
Silence falls in the warehouse, broken only by distant shouting as the rest of the team floods in.
Hotch holsters his weapon, turns back to you, where you’re pushing to your feet.
You meet his eyes across the moonlit warehouse, chest heaving, blood thundering in your ears.
The unsub is down.
The cuffs are clicking.
And Aaron Hotchner looks like he’s deciding exactly how long it’s going to take to make you cry tonight.
The jet is grounded until at least morning due to a mechanical failure in the engine, so the team books into the hotel closest to the hangar and landing strip.
Everyone’s exhausted, adrenaline crashing hard, all a little annoyed from the lack of sleeping in their own beds tonight. But the air between you and Hotch is still a live current, ready to explode any second now.
You’re leaning against the check-in desk, tapping your badge against your palm, when Hotch steps up beside you and quietly tells the clerk, “Two singles.”
You don’t miss a beat. “Separate rooms,” you echo, loud enough for Hotch and the clerk to hear. You flash him a saccharine smile. “How very professional of us, Agent Hotchner. Gotta keep up appearances for the Bureau. Wouldn’t want anyone to know their precious unit chief has been balls-deep in his subordinate every night for the last eight months.”
The night clerk’s eyes go wide. Rossi, waiting for his key behind you, chokes on a laugh which he pretends is a cough.
Hotch doesn’t flinch. He just signs the receipt with a pen that might actually snap in his grip, then hands you a keycard.
“Room 312,” he says, voice flat. “I’ll be there in five minutes. You open that door for anyone else, you won’t sit for a month.”
He walks away before you can answer.
You take the stairs two at a time, pulse already racing.
The second the door clicks shut behind him, the mask is gone.
He shrugs out of his jacket, tosses it toward the chair in the corner of the room, and stalks toward you like a predator who’s finally off leash and pouncing straight toward its next meal.
“Strip!”
You arch a brow at him. “Please?”
He’s on you in two strides, hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head back, hard.
“Don’t push me any further tonight,” he warns. “You’ve used up every last ounce of patience I have.”
“Good.” You smile slowly up at him.
He kisses you all teeth, no mercy, until you’re gasping against his mouth. Then he spins you, shoves you chest-first over the foot of the bed, yanks your jeans and panties down in one rough motion.
His palm slides between your shoulder blades, pinning you flat. You feel the heat of him behind you, the hard line of his cock pressing against your ass through his slacks.
“You’ve been begging for this all day,” he says, his voice low and more controlled than you had anticipated when you started pushing him this morning. It's the way he gets right before he completely unravels you. “Every smart-ass comment, every eye roll, every time you said my title like it’s a fucking joke. You want my attention? You have it.”
He drags your hips back until you’re bent perfectly for him, feet barely touching the carpet. The first thrust of his clothed hips against your bare skin is deliberate, grinding, a promise and a threat all at once.
You push back, greedy for him to enter you.
He stills you with one hand splayed over the base of your spine, the other winding your hair around his fist until your neck arches.
“Stay still,” he growls. “You move when I tell you to move.” He leans over you, mouth at your ear. “Color?”
“Green,” you breathe, already trembling. “So fucking green.”
He pulls back just enough to unbuckle his belt, the metallic clink loud in the almost silent room. You hear his zipper, feel the blunt, bare heat of him drag up the seam of your body.
He doesn’t enter you. Not yet.
Instead, he notches himself at your entrance and holds there, agonizingly still, while you try to rock back and take him, sheathe yourself on his cock. His grip on your hair tightens, holding you exactly where he wants you.
“Beg!”
“Please, Sir—”
“Louder.”
“Please fuck me, Sir, I need—”
He slams into you in one brutal stroke, no warning, filling you so suddenly your breath catches on a scream.
Your legs wrap around nothing, toes curling into the carpet, hips snapping hard enough to jolt the bedframe into the wall with every thrust.
He flips you onto your back without pulling out, hooking your knees over his elbows, and spreading you wide. The new angle drags a broken sound from your throat as his thrusts take him deeper and deeper.
“Look at you,” he growls against your collarbone as he shoves your shirt up and runs his mouth over your skin, teeth scraping against you. “Acting like a spoiled little brat in front of the entire team. You think they didn’t notice? You think I didn’t see the way Morgan smirked every time you opened that mouth?”
“Maybe I wanted them to know,” you taunt, breathless, reaching for him. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t belong to—”
He cuts you off by pulling out entirely and flipping you again, this time onto your knees, face and chest pressed against the mattress.
He thrusts back in so hard your hands scrabble for purchase on the sheets.
“Say it,” he snarls, one hand sliding up to collar your throat from behind, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave a bruise in the morning. “Finish that sentence.”
“I belong to you,” you sob, clenching around him. “Only you—fuck—Aaron—”
“That’s right.” He presses you deeper into the bed, hips relentless. “You’re mine. And tomorrow, when you can’t walk straight and my cum still dripping down your thighs during our briefing on the jet, you’ll remember exactly who you answer to.”
He reaches beneath you, finds your clit with better precision than a trained sharpshooter, no searching, no hesitation, just the rough pad of his finger settling right where you’re swollen and aching for him. He doesn’t move at first. Just presses, holds, lets you feel the weight of that single point of contact while his cock throbs inside you, stretching you open, owning every trembling inch.
You try to rock back, to chase more, but his grip turns iron.
“Stay,” he growls against the shell of your ear, breath hot, voice shredded. “You take what I give you.”
Then he starts to move, slow, cruel circles that drag over your clit with exactly enough pressure to make your thighs shake. Every stroke is perfectly timed with the roll of his hips, the thick drag of him pulling out until only the head remains before he slams back in, forcing the air from your lungs.
Your hands claw at the sheets. Your spine arches so hard it hurts. The pleasure coils tighter and tighter, vicious and unstoppable, until you’re sobbing his name into the pillow, broken and desperate little pleas of his name.
He speeds up, just barely, thumb flicking faster, hips snapping harder, the wet sound of him fucking you filling the room along with your wrecked moans.
“Cum,” he orders, voice cracking with restraint. “Cum on my cock right now. Show me who you belong to.”
The command rips through you.
You shatter, back bowing, toes curling, a raw scream tearing from your throat as your entire body locks down around him. Wave after wave crashes over you, so intense your vision whites out, every pulse of your orgasm dragging him deeper, milking him with greedy, rhythmic clenches.
He swears once and loses the last thread of control. His rhythm stutters, hips slamming forward one final time as he cums with a rough groan, spilling inside you.
You feel every throb, every pulse, the way he jerks and grinds through it, forehead pressed hard between your shoulder blades like he’s trying to fuse himself to your skin.
He stays there, buried to the hilt, chest heaving against your back, both of you trembling in the aftermath, slick with sweat and utterly spent. You can’t help it, your hips give a tiny, greedy roll, chasing the last sparks of pleasure, trying to keep him deep.
A soft, satisfied moan slips out of you.
Hotch’s chuckle rumbles against your spine. His arms tighten, pinning you flat to the mattress so you can’t move an inch further than you've already wiggled.
“You think we’re done?” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. He nips the lobe hard enough to make you gasp. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my time to play.”
He pulls out slowly, letting you feel every inch drag against your oversensitive walls. You whine at the sudden emptiness, but before you can protest, he’s already moving, shirt buttons flying, slacks kicked the rest of the way off, socks gone.
In seconds, he’s gloriously bare, all hard lines, cock still half-hard and glistening with your cum.
He turns his attention to you next, signaling with his hand for you to flip over on your back. You do as ordered.
Your shirt is shoved up under your arms. He yanks it off, unhooks your bra, and tosses both across the room. Then he grabs his discarded tie and crawls over you.
“Hands up,” he orders.
You obey instantly, stretching your arms above your head. He loops the tie around your wrists, threads it through the headboard, and cinches it tight. Not painful, but absolutely inescapable from your end of the deal. You tug once; the silk holds firm.
A helpless little thrill shoots straight to your core.
He settles between your thighs again, slides back inside you with one smooth thrust that makes your back arch. You’re so wet, so swollen, the stretch burns in the best way, you're not sure you can take the sensation much longer before cumming again.
“Good girl,” he praises, voice rough. “Stay just like that.”
He starts slow. Long and deep strokes that hit every spot inside you. His mouth finds your neck, your breasts, sucking bruises into your skin while his hips roll in that maddening rhythm he knows drives you absolutely insane.
It doesn’t take long before you’re writhing, breath hitching, thighs trembling around his waist.
“Please! Sir, I’m close,” you whimper.
He pulls out completely.
You cry out, hips bucking at nothing. He watches you struggle against the tie, thighs squeezing together for friction that isn’t there.
“Shh.” He strokes your hip in a soothing yet cruel manner. “Calm down a little. We’re nowhere near done.”
He waits until your breathing evens, until the desperation fades, then slides back in and starts all over again.
He does it four times.
Four times, he builds you right to the brink, fingers on your clit, mouth on your nipples, cock dragging slow and steady against your walls, until you’re sobbing, begging, tears of frustration gathering at the corners of your eyes.
The fifth time you get loud, really loud, a broken, whining “Please, please, I can’t—” spilling out over and over.
Hotch clicks his tongue. “Too noisy, baby.” He reaches for your discarded panties and balls them up. “Open.”
You shake your head, playful defiance flaring even through the haze.
He arches a brow. “Open that pretty mouth, or I stop entirely and you get nothing.”
Your lips part instantly. He stuffs the panties in, the taste of yourself flooding your tongue, muffling every sound to desperate, garbled whimpers.
“There we go,” he croons, brushing the back of his hand over your cheek. “Much better.”
He fucks you like that for what feels like hours. He comes once deep inside you again, groaning your name against your throat. Pulls out, strokes himself, and paints thick stripes across your stomach and breasts.
Later, he pushes your knees to your chest, and spills across your face while you keen helplessly behind the gag.
Each time he finishes, he starts again, sliding through the mess he’s made across your frame, using it to make you slicker, filthier. You lose count of his orgasms. You’re a trembling, oversensitive wreck, and still he denies you that second release, pulling out the instant your walls start to flutter.
Finally, finally, he collapses over you, sweat-slick and breathless, cock spent and utterly dry. He reaches up and carefully unties your wrists, massaging the faint red marks with his thumbs. Then he gently pulls the soaked panties from your mouth. You work your jaw, swallowing hard, voice hoarse.
He kisses you softly. “Up,” he murmurs.
You’re boneless, but he helps you sit. He slides the same wet panties that he just pulled from your mouth back up your legs, tugging them into place with deliberate care. The fabric settles against your abused, swollen pussy, trapping every drop of his cum inside you. You whimper at the pressure.
He leaves for a second before coming back with a wet cloth in his hand.
When he settles back down beside you, he cups your chin, tilts your face to his, and with the warm cloth, he cleans your cheeks, your lips, your eyelashes with tender, reverent strokes that make you melt against his hand.
But when you reach for a tissue to wipe your chest and stomach, he catches your wrist.
“No.” His voice drops into that stern, deep tone that makes you freeze. “You don’t clean the rest off. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not until we’re wheels-down at Quantico and you’re standing in my shower at home. You’re going to feel me on your skin every second on the jet, every time you shift in your chair. You’ll remember exactly who you bratted off to today, and exactly who owns every inch of this body. Understood?”
You nod, throat tight, arousal somehow flaring all over again despite everything.
“Yes, Sir.”
He smiles, a small, satisfied, and soft smile, before he pulls you into his chest. His hand spreads possessively over the sticky mess on your stomach, holding you close.
“Sleep, trouble,” he whispers into your hair. “You’re going to need it.
You’re already half-asleep when he speaks again, voice low in the dark.
“Next time you pull a stunt like that in the field, I won’t wait until we’re in a hotel room.”
You smile against his skin, sore and sated and utterly ruined.
“Next time,” you mumble, “I’ll be worse.”
He bites your shoulder in warning.
You wake up to the alarm on Hotch’s watch at 5:47 a.m. He’s already sitting on the edge of the bed, hair damp from the shower, knotting a fresh tie. You try to roll over and immediately regret it. Every muscle between your hips screams. Your thighs are sticky, your pussy swollen and aching, and when you clench experimentally, you feel the slow, obscene slide of everything he left inside you only a couple of hours ago.
He glances back, eyes satisfied.
“Up,” he says, voice still rough from sleep and sex. “Wheels up in forty.”
You groan. Actually groan. Getting vertical feels like an Olympic event that you never trained for.
He watches you struggle into yesterday’s jeans with the faintest smirk curling his mouth, when in reality, all you want is a pair of sweatpants.
The panties he pulled back up your legs after he finally untied you are soaked through, his cum, yours, the evidence of four separate loads, and every step makes the fabric drag against your oversensitive clit.
By the time you limp into the hotel lobby, the whole team is already waiting. Morgan does a double-take.
“Damn, sweetheart. You pull a muscle wrestling that unsub... or something?”
You flip him off with the hand that isn’t clutching your go-bag strap for support.
Hotch doesn’t say a word, just opens the back door of the SUV for you like a perfect gentleman, as you make it to the cars. You slide across the seat and bite the inside of your cheek to keep from whimpering when your ass meets cold and slightly hard leather.
On the jet, you take the seat farthest from the group, legs pressed tightly together, praying the movement of the plane doesn’t jostle anything loose. Hotch sits directly across the aisle from you, tablet in hand, leading the debrief like nothing happened last night. Like he didn’t wreck you so thoroughly that you’re still tasting him through your pussy.
He starts with the profile review. You’re supposed to contribute. Instead, you’re hyper-aware of the slow trickle working its way down your thigh every time the jet banks left. You shift, and the wet drag of cotton against your folds makes you swallow a gasp.
Hotch’s eyes flick to you. Calm and professional. Except for the slight curve at the corner of his mouth that says he knows exactly what you’re feeling.
“Agent L/N,” he says smoothly, “care to walk us through the victimology again and what we can learn from it for future cases?”
You open your mouth. Close it. Clear your throat. “Uh. Females, twenty-two to twenty-nine, brunettes, all abducted within—”
Your voice cracks on the last word because the plane hits a pocket of turbulence, and you feel a fresh pulse of warmth slip free. You clamp your thighs harder, face burning.
Reid starts rambling about geographic decay rates. You stop listening. All you can focus on is the slow, steady throb between your legs and the way Hotch’s gaze keeps drifting to your lap like he’s cataloging every squirm.
Forty unending minutes later, the wheels finally touch down in Quantico. You stand too fast, and your knees nearly buckle. Hotch’s hand shoots out to steady your elbow, the perfect picture of a concerned boss... or partner.
You make it down the stairs on wobbly legs, every step making the mess in your panties shift and cling. You’re praying no one notices the way you’re walking like you just rode a horse for twelve hours straight.
Rossi falls into step beside Hotch as you head for the car park. He doesn’t even bother lowering his voice.
“Atta boy,” he mutters, clapping Hotch once on the shoulder.
Hotch doesn’t answer, but you catch the faint, wicked tilt of his lips before he slides on his sunglasses.
You flip Rossi off behind Hotch’s back.
Rossi just laughs knowingly and calls over his shoulder, “Feel better, kid.”
Warnings: kissing, steamy kissing, hotch calling reader a good girl
Words: 1.7k
Summary: Hotch giving reader some compliments and one gets her all flustered...
Being in the BAU taught you to thrive under pressure, but nothing compared to the pressure of working under Aaron Hotchner. His commanding presence, razor-sharp focus, and quiet authority were enough to make anyone falter—especially you. He wasn’t intimidating in the typical way, but in how effortlessly he commanded respect and attention. Every time his dark eyes locked on you, steady and unyielding, it felt like your entire body was under his scrutiny.
And maybe that was the problem. You’d spent too much time noticing the man behind the badge: the soft-spoken leader who was fiercely protective of his team, the rare smiles that lit up his face when he thought no one was watching, the low, rumbling voice that made your stomach twist whenever he said your name.
Unfortunately, your growing attraction to your boss wasn’t something you could afford to entertain. So, you buried it—deep enough to function professionally, but never quite deep enough to forget.
But today was testing every ounce of self-control you had.
---
The team had just wrapped up a grueling case involving an elusive kidnapper. Everyone was running on fumes, but you’d been the one to track down the critical lead that led to the unsub’s capture. As the team regrouped at the precinct to finalize reports, you could feel Hotch’s gaze on you.
“Good work today,” he’d said earlier, his voice low but warm. That alone had been enough to make your cheeks flush.
Now, as you typed up the last details of your report, you caught him watching you again. His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was something in his eyes—something that made your stomach flip.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice cutting through the din of the precinct.
You looked up, heart skipping a beat. “Yes, sir?”
“Can I see you for a moment?”
Your pulse quickened, but you nodded, standing and following him into one of the side offices. He closed the door behind you, the quiet click of the lock making the small room feel suddenly smaller.
“Everything okay?” you asked, trying to sound calm.
“Yes,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I just wanted to talk to you about your work today.”
Your heart sank. “Did I miss something?”
He frowned, shaking his head. “Not at all. In fact, it’s the opposite.”
“Oh.” Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by confusion.
“You were exceptional today,” he said, stepping closer. “That lead you followed—it was exactly what we needed. I wanted to make sure you knew how much it contributed to the case.”
His praise hit you like a tidal wave, and you tried to school your expression, but it was no use. You felt your cheeks warm, your breath hitching as he took another step closer.
“Thank you,” you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
The words sent a jolt through you, and your entire body went still.
“Something wrong?” he asked, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.
“N-no,” you stammered, though your cheeks were burning.
“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.
“I’m not,” you lied, even though the heat in your face betrayed you.
“You are,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
The sight of him almost smiling—especially at your expense—made your heart race. You looked away, desperate to escape his gaze.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice softer now.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” you blurted out, though it came out more like a squeak.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “No?”
“No,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.
“Good,” he said simply, and that damn phrase sent another wave of heat rushing through you.
You tried to focus, tried to keep your breathing steady, but the intensity in his gaze was unraveling you.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said, taking another step closer. “The way you think, the way you work—you’re one of the best. And I’m not just saying that.”
“Hotch, I—”
“You’re remarkable,” he interrupted, his voice firm but warm. “I hope you know that.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the walls around you closing in—not from fear, but from the sheer force of his presence.
“I—thank you,” you managed, though your voice was barely above a whisper.
He studied you for a long moment, and you could feel your resolve crumbling under the weight of his gaze.
“You’re doubting yourself again,” he said, his voice dropping lower.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” he said gently. “But you don’t need to. You’re a good girl, Y/N.”
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your knees go weak. You gripped the edge of the desk behind you, trying to steady yourself as your mind raced.
“I—” You couldn’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a denial.
His lips quirked into a faint smile, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. “Did I catch you off guard?”
You nodded, unable to trust your voice.
He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You just—” You shook your head, your cheeks still burning.
“Just what?” he asked, his tone teasing now.
“You can’t say things like that,” you blurted out.
“Why not?” he asked, his voice calm but curious.
“Because—” You bit your lip, struggling to find the right words. “Because it’s… distracting.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your pulse quicken even more.
“Distracting?” he repeated, his voice laced with amusement.
“Yes,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.
“Hmm,” he hummed, stepping even closer.
You sucked in a breath, your heart pounding as he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine.
“You’re remarkable,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I mean that.”
You felt your resolve snap. “Hotch, I—”
“Call me Aaron,” he interrupted, his voice low and commanding.
The sound of his name on his lips sent a thrill through you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you surged forward, closing the distance between you.
The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and the floodgates opened.
His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your head spin, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped you. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.
You clung to him, your fingers gripping the front of his suit jacket as the world around you faded away.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing hard, and his forehead rested against yours.
“That was…” You trailed off, your mind still reeling.
“Amazing,” he finished, his voice rough but steady.
You smiled, your cheeks still flushed. “Yeah. Amazing.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
You groaned, burying your face in his chest as he laughed quietly. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Not a chance,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.
Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader
Genre: smut (18+)
Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play
Word count: 5,4k
A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is 🤭 I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!
“Oh, you guys are such babies!” You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how they’ve been stuck in one before.
“It’s not funny, Y/N,” Spencer chimes in. “There are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.”
You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. “See!” You exclaim. “Hotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. We’ll be fine.” You add cheerfully.
“You’re coming?” Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms.
You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. “It made the same sound the last time!” You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering.
“Not again!” Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s about to fall to his death at any given moment.
Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. “It seems like the electricity went out…”
“Actually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,” Spencer interjects. “It could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-“
“Let’s just solve this problem, shall we?” You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel.
“You think that’ll do something?” Morgan asks, brow lifted.
“It will alert someone that we’re stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.” Hotch adds.
“Well at least I’ll be missing my meeting with Strauss,” I sigh in relief.
“It was at twelve, right?” Spencer asks.
“Yeah,” you respond with a nod.
“Statistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,” Spencer continues, checking his watch. “That means you could still make it in time.”
“Now that’s just what I wanted to hear,” you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan.
“We can only hope we won’t be in here for that long,” Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors.
“Okay… so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?”
“No, no cases please,” Morgan groans. “We’ve had three in a row. I’m done.”
“Morgan is right. We’ve done enough cases in the past few days.” Hotch agrees.
You mutter an “alright” as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer.
“So Reid, I’m sure you’ve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.”
Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. “Well, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,” you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. “The first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.” You hum in interest. “They used lifts in the Colosseum, right?”
“Yes! Exactly!” he responds excitedly. “The system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!”
“Oh come on,” Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. “You’re telling me you’re actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?”.
Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derek’s skepticism.
“Derek Morgan…” you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. “Don’t act like I’m not curious about knowledge. At least Spence’s got something interesting to say.”
Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense.
“Hey, I know facts too,” Morgan says smugly. “How about there being 7000 languages in the world today.”
“The overall number is actually closer to 8000,” Spencer corrects him. “You only counted verbal communication.”
“You guys are going to have a facts competition now?” You ask, bewildered. “It’s way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.”
“I agree,” Hotch mutters. “It is getting a little warm.”
You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. There’s a brief silence before Reid speaks up again.
“I never thought I’d be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,” he muses. “It’s a little cliché.”
“You know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?”
You shake your head in confusion, “I think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,” you laugh.
Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile.
“I should’ve known you’ve only watched the dirty ones,” Derek teases.
“What about you, pretty boy? Ever seen a dirty movie?” He asks Spencer, grinning.
Reid looks flustered. “I grew up in Vegas… I’ve seen some things.”
“Ah, Vegas,” you say, sighing dreamily. “The place where you can’t drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.”
Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing.
“What about you, Hotch? What’s your favorite dirty movie?” You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look.
“Watch it, Y/L/N.” Hotch warns.
“Come on, Hotch,” Derek says. “Let loose a little!”
“See it as the universe’s sign.” I press on.
“How is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?” Hotch asks, brows raised.
“Well, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,” you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes.
To everyone’s surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you.
You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.
The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. You’re glad he joined you, but it’s hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you.
“How long has it been?” you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. “I’m starting to sweat.”
“Thirty-five minutes so far,” Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself.
Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face.
“You guys should take your jackets off,” you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch.
You don’t need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away.
“Oh, she’s enjoying the view, alright,” Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.
“Shut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.”
Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, “Look at that, Hotch. You’re surprising us all today. First you smile and now you’re taking your jacket off. What’s next, dancing a jig?” You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morgan’s teasing but can’t help a small smile from appearing on his lips.
Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. “Here, let me help you”, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You don’t know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.
“Now it’s your turn, you’re the one who insisted,” Morgan states, and you can’t help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.
“I’ll open up some buttons too, if you don’t mind,” you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You don’t give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, “Now that’s a nice view.”
“You’re insufferable,” you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morgan’s eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like they’re struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed.
He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect you’re having on them. “You know, you’re driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.”
You let out a small huff, “Give me a break. You’re wearing shortsleeves, I’m the one wearing a blouse.”
Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. “That blouse does seem a bit warm.”
“Thank you!” You say, glad someone is on your side.
Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace that’s hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away.
“Let’s just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fair”, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension that’s driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal.
“All our shirts, are you sure about that?” Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Then at least you won’t eye me like that.”
“Oh, I think I’ll eye you only more.” Derek teases, licking his lips.
“Just take your damn shirt off.”
Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.” He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. It’s a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ‘nother level.
You’re glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether he’ll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the other’s bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that he’s more affected than he’s letting on.
“Come on, pretty boy. Join the party.” Derek says.
“I’ll go first,” you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencer’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him.
“See, it’s not that hard,” you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you.
“I don’t know about that. You’re making things pretty hard, baby girl.” Morgan comments, making you laugh.
“You’re way too dirty for your own good.”
Morgan grins. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You’re looking mighty tempting right now.”
You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. “You’ll feel a lot cooler, I promise,” you encourage.
“I don’t know. I’m not as… toned as the others.” It hurts you to hear how he’s comparing himself to his colleagues.
“Do you truly think I care about that?” You ask him. “It’s not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,” you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others.
“Not too bad, pretty boy. You’re looking pretty good without that vest on.” Derek compliments.
“You do,” You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, “Yeah, that does feel better.”
You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,” you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension that’s impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and that’s when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotch’s fingers caressing your arm.
You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable.
His voice is low and husky, “You're all worked up, sweetheart. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”
Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. “I’m not the only one,” you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like he’s been caught staring at your chest. “Don’t be shy, genius,” Derek teases. “We’re all thinking the same thing right now.” You can’t help but smile at Spencer’s flustered look. “It’s… It’s hard not to, when you-” He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts.
Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. “We’ve been stuck in here long enough. I think it’s safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.” The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought that’s been occupying everyone’s mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like he’s touching you.
“Guess it’s only fair if we all just… give in to it,” you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood.
From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles.
“You’re always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,” Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you.
“I- I don’t know about this…” Spencer stammers.
Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. “Don’t worry Reid, she’s enjoying it.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck.
Morgan grins, “Let me show you how sure I am,” he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are.
“See Reid, she loves it,” Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.
“Let me see,” Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch.
“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?,” Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. “Just been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.” You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit.
Spencer’s eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just can’t understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while they’ve been teasing him the entire time.
“You can come here Spence,” you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as he’s close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds you’re making as you’re being touched all over.
“Can I-?” You don’t let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand.
“Thank you,” you whisper back. It’s ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.
Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. “Don’t do that. I like the way you sound.” Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you.
Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud.
You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencer’s swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you haven’t experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time.
“Morgan, is she ready?” Hotch asks, breathing heavily.
“More than ready, sir,” Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing.
“I need you for myself,” he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you.
“Oh my god… I feel so full,” you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that he’s not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass.
“You’re doing okay there, princess?” Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.
“You feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?” You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement.
“I don’t understand Y/N. You’re a big girl, use your words.”
“Oh god…’’ Your head spins as he pounds into you. “I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.” He orders.
“Yes!’’ you cry out. ‘’God yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.”
“Say my name again.” He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. “Aaron, please… I’m so, so close.” He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. “I’m almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.”
You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You can’t take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.
You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as you’re still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencer’s sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up.
“You okay?” Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness.
“Yeah. I feel really, really good.” You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder.
“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask sensually, looking in his eyes.
“Not really,” he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. “It’s not like I don’t want you to! I’d- I’d love you to do…”, he’s not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. “Whatever you would do. I just-,” his voice softens, meeting your gaze. “I really need to know what you taste like.”
Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. “Okay,” you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. You’re amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.
“Feels good,” you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. He’s sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you.
Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesn’t look like he’s touched himself.
“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.” You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derek’s pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. “Fuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.” You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like it’s wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.
His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements.
Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit.
“Don’t get distracted, baby girl,” Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper down your throat.
“Fuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,” he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue.
Spencer’s dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencer’s tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer can’t keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him.
You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derek’s dick pops out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Spence?” You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. “Sorry,” you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.
“Oh god…” You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that you’re making. You lazily tug on Derek’s cock, too distracted by Spencer’s tongue.
“Oh Spencer, I’m going to cum,” you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back.
“I’m not gonna last that much longer,” Derek announces, who’s been stroking himself to your orgasm. “Come here, then,” you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.
“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m going to cum!” He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks.
“Fuck… You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath.
-
“Who the hell is in there?”
The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyone’s heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.
“This is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. I’m stuck here with three of my agents.”
The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didn’t you morons use the emergency button?"
Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.
"Hey, don’t look at me! I’m the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense.
The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."
You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’
"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"
The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I’ve been working here for six months. Don’t blame me because you can’t read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."
You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head.
Derek notices how Spencer’s been unusually quiet. “Speak up, kid,” he urged.
“I’ve known what the buttons do the entire time,” he says, voice casual.
You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. “What?!” You both exclaim at the same time.
Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.”
Derek’s mouth drops open. “You’ve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didn’t say anything?!”
Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. “It’s a team-building exercise,” he says matter-of-factly. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”
You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Reid.”
As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.
Summary: You're good friends with Jack Hotchner, and his dad finds you crying at a house party.
Contents/Warnings: best friend's dad!hotch, legal age gap (reader is over 18), mutual pining, soft!hotch, mention of alcohol/drugs, cheating (reader's unnamed, faceless boyfriend), hurt/comfort, fem!reader
WC: 3.6K / navigation
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
Very few things are more embarrassing than crying at a party. You're wading through a sea of high, hammered young adults, and even if they're too out of their minds to notice the tears on your cheeks, you feel like a fool for letting them fall.
You probably shouldn't have been as naive as you were going into your relationship. You'd been blinded by the prospect of someone being interested in you, and you hadn't stopped to consider the odd behavior he'd presented. You didn't want to be the overbearing girlfriend and check his phone, but walking in on him sucking face with someone else was just about all the evidence you'll ever need.
So now you're crying, stumbling down the hall and into the front yard for a breath of fresh air. Inside it's stuffy, booze and weed clouding the air and burning at your lungs. The front steps feel like a new beginning, away from your asshole (now) ex-boyfriend and the shitty music blaring from the house.
You're not offered much solace, though, because sirens blare through the streets. You squint through your teary eyes at a squad of cop cars that screech into the driveway, black SUVs trailing behind them. Fear drags your stomach down to your feet, because despite knowing that you're sober, you still probably hold some accountability for whatever drugs they're doing in there.
You're the only one outside, save for a couple moonbathing around the side yard, but the cops start for the front door. It means you're scrambling out of the way, tempted to put your hands up just in case.
"Miss," One of the officers glances at you, "Go home. We're shutting this down."
"Oh- okay," You stammer, nodding and wiping a tear from your eye, "I-um... I have to call an uber."
The officers don't pay you any regard after that, streaming into the house. It's only when you're fumbling clumsily with your phone that anyone engages with you, and the booming voice that travels over the lawn brings immense comfort to you.
"Y/N?" It's Aaron Hotchner, Jack's dad. You'd become fast friends with Jack through a couple of shared community college courses, and you'd come to know his dad from study sessions and movie nights.
"Mr. Hotchner," You breathe, reaching up to smear a tear off of your cheek, "I- Are you- what's going on?"
"The neighbors complained about the noise" He explains, jogging across the grass to reach out for your shoulder, "What happened? Are you alright? Why are you crying?"
"I'm okay," You sniffle, now infinitely more embarrassed to be caught blubbering by your best friend's very attractive dad, "We all have to leave?"
"Don't worry about that," He murmurs, shrugging his windbreaker off of his shoulders and wrapping it around your own. Your top is sheer and too-short, and the cold air had been nipping at your skin. His jacket is warm, soft, and you realize with an aggressive heat to your cheeks, it smells like him.
"Now," He tries again, keeping his jacket securely over your shoulders, "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm alright," You shake your head, chin to your chest, "It's dumb, it's nothing. I- I need to call an uber, I'll-"
"I will drive you home," Aaron promises, voice soothing as his hand brushes over your back, "But I need to know what's wrong."
"I don't-" You stammer, eyes rolling at how silly you sound while another wave of tears streams down your cheeks, "It's just- my boyfriend, I saw him kissing someone else. Really, it's dumb, it's nothing."
Aaron doesn't respond, not right away, but you know he's heard you. You know by the momentary tightening of his grip on your shoulder, the way that his fingers dig into your skin like he's trying to make a fist but you're getting in the way. Then he eases up, touches all soft and gentle.
"I'm sorry, honey." He coos, stepping against your chest to wrap you in a hug. He rubs your back, up and down, up and down, up and down, until you're sniffling and sobbing into his chest. He keeps his arms around you, strong and firm, his cheek flush with the crown of your head as partygoers stream out of the house around you.
He's the epitome of comfort, all sweet, low reassurances and grounding touches. He murmurs only loud enough for you to hear as you curl your fingers into his shirt, 'He didn't deserve you, honey.' and, 'You're better off without him.'
"I just didn't see it coming," You admit lamely, your voice muffled against his chest. He doesn't ease up on the hug, and you're grateful for that. The last thing you'd want to do is make him uncomfortable, but he seems to realize you need comfort right now.
"Jack... always had his thoughts about him." Aaron admits, "But I think he kept them to himself, he didn't want to ruin things for you."
"I could tell," You sigh, nestled snugly into Aaron's chest, "I... I thought they just needed time to get used to each other, you know? Like, get to know each other. But I guess not, I guess Jack was right."
"Don't tell him that," Aaron teases, "It'll go straight to his head."
You laugh, albeit weakly, against Aaron's chest, and he takes it as a win.
"Okay," He hums, giving one last broad sweep of his hand over your back, "Let's get you into the car. It's late, you should get home and get to sleep."
"Thank you for taking me home," You sniffle letting him lead you with an arm around your shoulders to one of the SUVs, "Are you sure it's okay to just take one? Weren't there other people riding with you?"
"They'll figure it out." Aaron assures you, knowing Derek will have to bite the bullet and sit in the middle seat of the back row, something he always takes an extra SUV to avoid doing, "It's okay."
Aaron helps you into the passenger's seat, even tugging at your seatbelt when you struggle to wrestle it over his jacket.
"Here," He reaches for the strap, easing it up and over a fold of the jacket that it was stuck in, "Let me."
He clicks it into place for you, and you smile tearily up at him.
He leaves you with a pat to your knee, then shuts the door.
You hear him call something to, presumably, another agent, trying not to think too hard about whatever team member of his you're depriving of a seat. Aaron doesn't let you think much about it, though, because as soon as you're pulling away from the curb, tears no longer pouring down your cheeks, the interrogation starts.
"What were you doing at a party, anyways?" Aaron glances over at you, a frown creasing his brows, "You're not the drinking type."
"I didn't go to get drunk," You shrug, "I went 'cause my boyfriend invited me."
"I'm sorry," Aaron looks at you, stopped at a signal just outside of the neighborhood, "Really. That's awful. You deserve so much better than that."
"Thank you, Mr. Hotchner," You sniffle, "I really appreciate how kind you're being. The ride, and- and the jacket, and-"
"It's no problem," He assures you, looking you in the eyes through the mirror, "That's what you deserve, sweetheart. You don't need to thank me for it."
You have the ironic urge to thank him again.
"And you can call me Aaron." He reminds you, smiling knowingly at your reflection, "You know that."
He's made a point to tell you time and time again that you're allowed to call him by his first name. During impromptu, mid-study-session dinners, at pick-ups in the college parking lot, but you've never felt acquainted with him before, not like this. Wearing his jacket while he drives you home after a ten minute hug seems a lot better of a reason to use his first name than seeing him in passing while you're laughing with Jack.
"Aaron," You mumble, and he chuckles warmly.
You don't have much time to enjoy the sound, even if it flips your stomach into cartwheels. You wish you could savor it, but you watch Aaron take a wrong turn to your house, and a frown tugs your brows down.
"Uh, I live that way," You point behind you, "It's okay, you can just turn up there, I think."
"We're stopping somewhere first," He explains, car bouncing as he pulls into the parking lot of a convenience store, "Come with me?"
You nod, wordlessly, climbing out of the car. He's already around to your side when you step out, looking only a little upset that he hadn't gotten to open the door for you. He shuts it, though, and catches his jacket when it slips from around your shoulders.
"Oh-! Here," He holds the material open, urging you to fit your arms through the slots, "Put it on, honey."
You blame his honey-sweet tone of voice for how clumsy you are in slipping into the jacket. It's unfair, really, how he's treating you like a precious thing, wrapping you in his jacket and driving you home. Then he zips it for you, all the way up to your chin, and you think you're in love.
The cool night air feels even more now like a fresh start. Thoughts of your awful ex-boyfriend have been looming over you the entire time, but they ebb away with each caring gesture Aaron shows you. It takes every ounce of self control in your body not to tackle him into a kiss when he takes your hand, leading you into the convenience store.
He beelines for the frozen section, grabbing a handheld basket on the way. He stops you right in front of the ice creams, only dropping your hand to gesture at the display case.
"Go ahead," He urges you, "Pick some. That's proper breakup ritual, I hear."
"Aaron, no-!"
"It's a rite of passage," He cuts you off, something stern in his eyes even if they're primarily kind, "Just- here. You like cookies and cream, right?" He eyes a container of the flavor behind the glass, and you nod tentatively, wondering how he'd remembered. You'd only eaten it once at his house, and he'd only known because he'd caught you washing your bowl out, and insisted on doing it himself because you were a guest.
He pushes the basket into your hands, and you watch begrudgingly as he takes two quarts of ice cream from the shelf. You protest weakly as he ushers you to the counter, but he shushes you gently, stepping in front of you to pay.
"Aaron," You mumble, cheeks hot and voice whiny as he waits for the cashier to ring him up. You knock your face against his back, burying it there for safekeeping, and he reaches back to pat your side.
The total isn't egregious, but it's more than you're happy with him spending on you. Of course, you don't have cash, so you're unable to pay him back, either. You'll have to slip Jack money the next time you see him, but you have a sneaking suspicion he'd use it at the school's vending machine instead.
"Thank you," You gush, voice still thick with embarrassment and cheeks still burning as Aaron leads you back to the SUV. He's slipped his hand back into yours, and he tucks the ice cream at your feet when you're settled into your seat.
"Again," He urges, resting his hand over your own where they lay in your lap, "Don't thank me. I'm only treating you like you deserve."
If he notices the monumental smile you try to bite back, he doesn't tease you about it.
He pulls into your driveway shortly after, with no further detours. You're renting a little ground-floor condo, and he walks you to your door with your ice cream in hand.
"Alright," He sighs, passing the bag over to you, "I think you have to watch a romance movie with this," He glances at the bag, "It's the law, I'm pretty sure."
"Oh, yeah?" You grin, the expression brighter than it would have been a half-hour ago, "What if I don't? Are the police gonna show up?"
"I will," He threatens, a warm smile on his face, "And I'm a bit of an ice cream fiend, so don't tempt me."
"Well there's two quarts..." You raise your brows, a silent invitation.
"I don't want to intrude," He starts, but you cut him off before he can even try.
"Mr.- Aaron," You hesitate, voice coming out meager where you want it confident, "I really don't want to be alone right now."
You almost expect him to leave. Sure, he'd been sweet to you tonight. But you're nervous that his sympathy was temporary, and that it's waning. So you stare at his shirt instead of his eyes, and you miss the way his gaze softens.
"Okay." He nods, one foot stepping forwards towards the threshold of your condo, "Okay honey. I'll stay."
Your condo isn't much. You're a college student, not a CEO, and your shoddy furniture tells that story. Aaron doesn't seem to mind, though, setting the bag on the counter and rummaging for spoons.
"You sure you want to share?" He eyes you where you've sat yourself on the couch, quarts and spoons in hand as he joins you.
"I'm sure," You nod, reaching for the tv remote, "I think I'd get sick if I ate two cartons."
A romance movie isn't hard to find, but you feel yourself developing a pounding headache from the exhaustion of crying. The ice cream is sweet on your tongue, cookies crunching between your teeth and staining them dark. You munch through the first half of the movie, digging into the carton with a greedy spoon each time. You don't even breach the halfway point before you have to stop, eyes closing and head pounding.
Aaron's similarly engaged with his ice cream, spoon upside-down in his mouth as he sucks it clean. You try not to stare at his mouth, but you're bashful as you place the lid back on your ice cream tub.
"I'm gonna beat you," Aaron boasts, digging his spoon back in for more ice cream, "Quitter."
"Go ahead," You sigh, head lolling back against the cushions. Your voice is colored with defeat, sad and dull. Aaron suspects it's not just about your unspoken ice cream eating contest.
"C'mere," He sighs, jamming his spoon into his ice cream and wrapping his now free arm around your shoulders. He urges you against his shoulder, something that you'd wanted to do since the moment you'd sat down, but didn't have the guts to.
"I'm sorry, honey." He reminds you as you lay your head against his shoulder, his constant slew of sympathy warming your chest, "He's an idiot."
"I feel like the idiot," You admit, voice in a low grumble, "I should have known it was too good to be true."
He pauses, stiffens, shifts. He's turned to face you, now, nudging your head off of his shoulder so he can look you in the eye. He's frowning, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, like... I dunno." You sigh in defeat, "I wasn't exactly everyone's dream girl in high school. And when I started college and everyone seemed older and more mature, it was comforting, like a fresh start. And then he took an interest in me, and I felt like things were finally starting to work for me, like I was finally a girl that guys liked. And then... well, you know the story. It just feels like I should have known better."
All the while, through your confession, Aaron's face has twisted itself into the deepest frown you've ever seen on the man. It looks like it's embedded permanently into his features, like he's stuck there from now on. It's almost cartoonish, and you'd laugh if you weren't so sad.
"Don't say that." He orders, voice stern.
"What?"
"Don't say that." He repeats, "This is not your fault. You were not supposed to see it coming, nor does it mean that people don't like you. College boys are..." He deliberates carefully on his word choice, seeing as he has one himself, "Impulsive. And impulsivity can sometimes be channeled into some pretty stupid shit. Like cheating on your girlfriend. Okay? It's not your fault that college boys are stupid."
"But-" You start with a choked voice, and his disapproving glare intensifies, "He wouldn't have cheated on me if I wasn't doing something wrong, would he? Or- or maybe I just am wrong, maybe I'm just not the type of person that's good enough to make someone stay."
"That is," He rushes to reply, reaching up to thumb a tear away from the apple of your cheek, "The dumbest thing I've ever heard." His hand rests there now, flush to your face, and there's a cold stripe down the middle where he'd been holding his spoon. His fingers are chilly too, but they warm against your skin.
"You are not wrong, there is nothing about you that makes you 'not good enough'. I can think of a thousand things that make you wonderful, but not one dealbreaker. Listen to me, please." He's leaning in, getting closer and closer with every word that tumbles from his lips, "There are people who fall in love with serial killers. No one is unlovable, certainly not you."
"But- but those people fall in love with serial killers because they're serial killers. That's- that's a thing about them, that's a lifestyle that people glorify. No one glorifies mediocrity, Aaron," Your heart sinks, "And that's what I am. I'm mediocre, maybe I'm good enough to take home for a night but I'm not good enough to live with."
In all of your frantic blubbering, you'd avoided eye contact with Aaron. Snapping back to focus, though, you see that it's impossible now, that he's close enough that your noses are brushing, and his breath is fanning over your mouth. Your own breath hitches in your throat, and your heart pounds.
His eyes, once stern and disapproving, are soft around the edges. They're chocolatey, and they speak to his sweet soul that's compelling him to stroke his thumb over the pudge of your cheek. You think for all the world that he's going to kiss you, you almost beg for it, but at the last minute, he tilts his head down, not forwards.
His forehead presses to your own, and his eyes shut.
"You are," He murmurs, holding you close, keeping your face flush to his, "The perfect girl. You're sweet, you're kind, you're funny, you're caring, you're so pretty, you're hardworking, you're resilient, you are... I could name a thousand other things. And, one day," His eyes flutter open, staring into your own as best he can at such a close proximity, "The right person will tell you that."
Aaron is the right person. He has to be, you can't imagine anyone else in the world being as kind or sweet with you as he is. And after all, that's what he says you deserve, right? The way his hand fits around your face seems like a piece of your puzzle you'd never known was missing until it snapped into place, and if you could steal his voice sea-witch style just to hear it all day long, you would.
It's a staring contest, and you blink first.
"I'm glad you told me," You admit, voice thick with emotion. You're not sure whether he picks up on the fact that you're designating him as the right person or not, but you choose not to think about it as he pulls you impossibly closer.
"Don't thank me," He reminds you, "it's what you deserve. Are you tired?"
"Yeah." You admit, slumping your forehead against him even as he tries moving away. It means that your skin slips against his lips, and he presses them into a pucker against your head. You'll savor the feeling forever.
"Go to sleep," He urges you, hand still on your cheek to guide it back to his shoulder. You curl into him much easier now, feeling lovey enough even to wrap your arms around one of his own. The movie plays forgotten on the tv, and your eyes shut to the vision of Aaron's lap, ice cream abandoned between his thighs. It's a nice image, but one you can't think too hard about while sleepy.
His hand comes up from where it had been draped over the cushions behind you to rub your back. He applies soft, gentle pressure, stroking up and down over the fabric of your- his jacket, one that you hope he doesn't take off of you before he leaves. It's grounding, and it only makes you burrow into him more.
The way you know he's the right person for sure is by fighting sleep. You want to conserve your time with Aaron, and you don't want to forget the feeling of his tender touches. You're in that floaty space between sleep and consciousness, somewhere with bodliy sensation but little cognitive ability. Your brain is pleasantly cloudy, and Aaron's hand on your back never stops.
When your breathing evens out, Aaron thinks you're asleep. You feel him shift ever-so-slightly, and you're worried he'll leave you. But he doesn't, he gets even closer, and you feel his lips land on the crown of your head.
"Perfect," He murmurs into your scalp, vibrations thrumming through your skull and wriggling their way into your brain, cementing the thought there, "G'night, sweetheart."
You drift to sleep knowing, without a doubt, that Aaron is the right person for you.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
for the universal blurb can you do breeding kink please? thank you!! <3
18+ mdni
cw: breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, cum eating
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
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“please baby?” His voice was pure sex and you knew you couldn’t resist him, you loved him and the idea of letting him do this to you made your heart pound. The sweet pout on his face when he begged you to let him cum inside you was almost enough to make you say yes- almost. You watched him reach for the condom that you had placed onto his throbbing length, just itching to take it off.
“On one condition,” you started then paused to make the anticipation around you two thicker, you could practically see the desperation seeping out of his pores. A sinister grin spreads across your face as you say, “you have to lick it out when you’re done” his eyes widened in surprise but his grin matched yours quickly. “Deal.”
He immediately pulls the condom off of his cock and lines himself up with your dripping entrance, teasing it with the tip and lets out a needy groan. He slowly pushes past your entrance, working himself in and out inch by agonizing inch, your back arched off the soft sheets as he bottoms out inside of you. When he feels you’ve acclimated to his size he begins to thrust faster, both of your pleasured sounds fill up the spacious bedroom- anyone walking by would be envious of what’s taking place behind your bedroom door.
After your second orgasm you could tell he was getting close, his cock twitched against your walls and his thrusts became sloppy, “c-can’t wait to breed this little pussy” he grunts as his head falls back, his hips twitch as he releases inside of you. He pants hard as he slowly pulls out of you, the feeling of emptiness makes you whimper but when you feel his cum slowly drip down to your ass another wave of excitement hits you. You look up at the hot disheveled man who just gave you one of his best fucks to date, you giggle softly as you say “your turn now.”
Without hesitation he drops his head down to your pussy and gives it a slow long lick, you moan as you look down at him and see the white coating his tongue. His eyes meet yours as he swallows his own load, you’ve never seen something so hot before, you could probably cum off the sight alone. He doesn’t back down, he goes back for more and brings you to your third orgasm of the night.
hii! i had a really troll thought and was wondering how hotch would respond to the reader just casually referring to him as a dilf. maybe they're just talking to the other members of the team and he happens to walk by and is just like 🤨 what did you just call me?
Hear me out! I'm a gremlin so what if we make it bearded Hotch 🤤. (Also tbh Jack not liking the beard was my 13th reason, I'm gonna beat that kid up)
Like ughh look at him 😍
"Penny, Penny! Have you seen Hotch today?" You practically drooled on the floor as you burst into her little tech-filled cave. Penelope was the only person in the entire office who could match your level of unhinged thoughts when it came to men, and you knew she’d never tease you for it.
Penelope grinned knowingly, keeping her secret that Hotch was quietly standing in the doorway behind you, having come in behind you.
"He looks so scrumptious today. What a total DILF."
"Excuse me? What did you just call me?" A deep voice resonated from behind. You spun around, eyes wide in horror, only to find your boss standing there with his arms crossed, an amused but questioning expression on his face.
"I... I—" You stammered, completely frozen in shock that he’d overheard you. "I'm so sorry, sir."
Penelope, ever the quick thinker, jumped in to try and save you. "What (Y/N) is trying to say is: keep the beard. It really suits you."
Hotch chuckled, his stern demeanor softening. "Well, Jack’s not a fan, so it’s going."
"NOOOO!" you yelped, louder than you intended, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened in embarrassment. To your surprise, Hotch winked at you, clearly in a rare, playful mood.
brb, I became a little too much of a feral gremlin in the process. I'm gonna go dump my head in a bucket of ice.
Coming down from the high that Aaron introduced you to feels impossible at this point. Following your very first encounter after his arrival, there isn't a day that he didn't make you feel desired and pleasured. And what better way to have him sated than letting him fuck you senseless out of pure unadulterated jealousy?
Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, masturbation, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, daddy & sir kink, unprotected, rough sex, angry sex, jealous!aaron, size difference, belly bulging, dirty talk, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pure filth, pussy-eater, bearded aaron.
You weren’t sure what was waiting ahead when you accepted the job.
For one, it was a blessing, given your old employers were moving out of state and you couldn’t go with them. They wanted to bring you, of course. They wanted you to come with them but you had to decline as you have plans of your own after you finish your studies. It was a hard decision to make. You were with the family for almost three years, they helped you through University so you don’t drown in student loans and debt, and the kids loved you as much as you loved them. Even without telling you, you could tell their parents felt bad you’re losing your only financial support at the moment.
That was when Jessica was sent to you like an angel in disguise.
She was an acquaintance; a close friend to your employers, so in a way you knew the woman and some bits of her life. You knew that she was taking care of her nephew, although occasionally; a young kid named Jack. You knew that she loved looking after him but her new promotion at work demanded more and more of her time, so she and her brother-in-law had to look for extra help. Apparently, Jack’s father was a very busy man, as you were told.
And that was when you became part of the Hotchners.
For them, you were heaven-sent.
“I’m fine, Jess…” you mumbled over the phone as you read the street sign quietly. You were almost there, almost, heaving a little as you dragged your suitcase behind you. “Of course, I’m nervous… you know how it is. I’m not very good with…”
“Kids?” you heard her breathy laughter at the other line, more teasing than incredulous.
You chuckled in return, shaking your head. “Fathers, actually. It’s different talking to women and knowing how exactly they want things to be done. Fathers aren’t like that. They expect— they just expect you to figure out everything.”
“Aaron isn’t like that,” she assured you, her voice kind. “You’ll see. He knows how he likes things and will tell you so. He’s a good man.”
Your heart hammered against your chest. He knows how he likes things. And he will tell you so. That’s supposed to be an assurance, right? So, why on Earth were you blushing?
Must be because of those damn pictures, a voice in your head whispered. Last night– maybe it was the nerves, or your plain curiosity after hearing many stories about the man that you let yourself get swayed by temptation. You were not one to research about your employers. A brief personal background was always provided by the agency to ensure that employees like you will be in safe hands, and it has always been enough. But last night, for some reason, you felt the need to know him.
In the past week you were negotiating with Jessica, you never met Mr. Hotchner. You thought it was weird and so reckless of him. He’s a federal agent. You expected him to be paranoid, careful at a fault. Why wouldn’t he insist on meeting firsthand the stranger who will take care of his son? The one he’ll let inside his home? It seemed like he didn’t care at all. All you knew was he was out on a case and wouldn’t be home at least for a couple more days. You don’t even know what this man looks like.
You met his son three days ago, though, and you already love the kid. Jack was a little shy at first, soft-spoken, but cheeky as he was polite. You wondered since then if he got that from his father. But you thought it was unlikely when you started digging information from the internet.
“So serious…” you whispered as you plucked the cherry from the stem, chewing slowly as you continued scrolling through the available pictures of him on the web.
There were YouTube links that also popped out when you typed in his name. You knew he’s some kind of bigshot fed but it still shocked you when you realized Mr. Hotchner had to stand in front of the camera and make public announcements on the news. It was impossible not to notice that face. But the least you could say is he looks good. Then you had to stop yourself there and divert your attention to the flaws you could pinpoint.
He looks strict and scary. In every video you opened, there was a tight frown on his face. It looks like he barely smiles or doesn’t know how to, and that he’s always constipated. What a poor man. You could already imagine your days in their household getting shouted at for being clumsy.
“You’re here! Dad, she’s here! Dad! She’s here!” the familiar voice of a young boy cut through your thoughts.
You stood still outside the closed gate of your new residence, peering over where a kid was running toward your direction, and an older man distractedly dribbling a basketball in a mini court. He was topless and sweaty. His arms strong, his muscles taut. And even from a distance, you could tell that he was watching you, too.
Then your eyes met and he smiled, warm and so kind.
At that moment you knew that this wouldn’t be bad after all.
You glanced at the clock on the wall. It’s late— later than you realized and Aaron still wasn’t home after a long day in the office. You’ve learned not to worry too much as you’ve grown accustomed to his late nights. He always comes home to you and Jack. But every night, there was a part of you that couldn’t fully relax until you heard the sound of his key in the door.
The clock just struck half past 10 o’clock. Most of the lights were already dimmed and the house was filled with silence. Jack had just gone to bed. These past few days, you realized how things changed. It took you almost an hour to convince him to get off his iPad and stop the game he was playing with his friends, and another hour before he fell asleep reading you his book of choice for this week. Which explains why you’re still up at this hour.
The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound that accompanied you as you moved through the living room, gathering up Jack’s scattered Lego blocks and soldier figurines. It was all over the place. You told him countless times to clean up his mess before eating dinner, but he just shrugged you off and told you he’d clean it up later. Hours passed by and he seemed to forget about his promise as he was already engrossed with the weird game he was playing on his iPad.
Jack was growing fast. And as much as the thought put an ache in your heart, you knew this was also inevitable.
But the thing is, you have no idea how you should deal with these changes. You didn’t dare scold him, no– considering your growing relationship with his father. You didn’t want him to think that you were crossing the line of acting like his mother, or a replacement for her. So, you thought it was better you wait for Aaron to come home and bring up this issue instead.
Another deep sigh escaped your lips as you bent down to pick up another handful of Lego blocks. You’re ready to go to bed, already clad in your satin nightgown, a pale pink that clings to your curves; feeling soft and smooth against your skin. The thin straps would occasionally slip off your shoulders as you reach for more toys, and the hem would brush against your thighs as you move.
“Didn’t think you’d still be up…”
You froze at the voice, still bent over, before straightening up and turning toward the entryway just as Aaron stepped inside.
His presence filled the space immediately. He’s still in his work clothes— a dark suit that looks a little rumpled from the long day, his tie loosened and his shirt collar open. His hair was slightly disheveled, and you noticed the tiredness in his eyes that he tried to hide as he closed the door behind.
For a moment, his eyes lingered on you, taking in the way the satin nightgown hugged your body, the fabric clinging to the curve of your hips, the way the hem fluttered around your thighs. There was a brief flicker of something in his gaze, appreciative, and scandalously lustful. You saw the slight tug at the corner of his lips behind his thick beard.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he greeted.
Your heart did that familiar, annoying little skip when he languidly crossed the room and caged you in his arms. He sighed deeply, kissed your forehead then your lips, before resting his cheeks at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
“Rough day, Mr. Hotchner?” you wanted to tease him, but with his hot breath fanning over your neck, the coarse hair of his beard against your skin, your words came out breathless.
You heard him groan, his voice low and a little rough when he said, “You have no idea, baby. Why are you still up, anyway? Did Jack gave you a hard time?”
“He’s just growing, Aaron. That’s how it is.”
“So he did?” he concluded, “I’ll talk to him, baby. There’s just too much going on at work.”
You hummed and nodded, running your fingers through his hair, understanding and supporting him without needing any details. You’ve never pressed him for specifics about his work and you know that Aaron was carrying enough weight on his shoulders without you adding to it. But even so, there was something in his tone and the exhaustion in his face that made you hug him tighter.
“You’re home now,” you said softly, massaging his scalp, “You should sit down for a bit. I can make you something to eat if you’re hungry.”
Just then, you felt his teeth dug gently on the skin of your neck. “How about I eat you instead?”
“Aaron…” you couldn’t help but giggle, ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach.
“Hmm?”
“Not here.”
He let out a soft grunt. “You smell heavenly, baby. I want to fuck you.”
His voice was raspy, gruff from all the grueling hours he spent in the office. You squirmed and chuckled quietly as you felt his lips trailing wet kisses on your neck, the soft curve of your shoulders, and even your jaw. His thick beard tickling you with every little movement.
You let out a sigh, clamping your thighs as you felt the heat dampening your cotton underwear. “Not here, Aaron. I’ll finish- I’ll clean up this mess first.”
He didn’t seem to hear you. The rough pad of his calloused palm roamed and caressed every inch of your clothed body. His hands moved to the curve of your ass, the swell of your breast, kneading your tits roughly on his hands while rolling your now sensitive nipples in between his thick fingers.
“I missed you so much, angel…” he said in a whisper, “I can’t get enough of your little pussy. You make me so hard, feel that?”
He guided your hand to the obvious bulge in his pants. Although that idea thrilled you, your fingers trembled in embarrassment and anticipation. You glanced up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your breath caught in your throat, while he hissed as you softly cupped and pressed your palm on his restrained cock, moving your hand experimentally in circles.
“Fuck,” he grunted your name, you even saw a muscle twitch on his tight jaw. “Saw you innocently bent over when I stepped into that door. It’s almost like you’re begging someone to ruin your tight cunt, is that right, angel?”
His hand found the dampness in between your legs, already pressing his thumb on your aching clit, yet it was the crudeness of his words that made you whimper. “S-sir…”
“Use your big words, sweet girl.”
“Not s-someone, sir…” you admitted. “Just you. W-want you to use me.”
A satisfied smile played on his lips.
“I know, baby. Want me to fuck you with my big cock, don’t you? Always fucking ready to spread your legs for me, is that right?”
You nodded dumbly, blinking up at him.
“Are you a whore?”
“N-no...” you said unsurely, “No, daddy. Not a w-whore.”
The dark look in his eyes brought you back to the memories of earlier in the morning. He gave you a small smile. “You’re daddy’s baby, I know, little girl.”
Like he always does, Aaron woke you up earlier with his face buried between your legs. He was lapping your dripping cunt like a madman, licking and sucking with his expert mouth. Two of his thick fingers were pushed deep inside you, making a lewd squelching sound as he nudged the sweet bundle of nerves inside. Your legs were trembling uncontrollably all you could do was moan and tug on Aaron’s hair. When he looked up to see your face, his beard was wet and a string of saliva was hanging from his lips and to your puffy folds.
You already came twice today. One from his mouth, as promised. And one from his big, leaking cock. He had your legs wide open, his hand pressed on the back of your thighs until you were folded almost in half, and rammed his big cock in and out of your weeping cunt with vigor. His eyes were focused on where you were both connected, watching in awe how you willingly swallow his thick cock in your body. He enjoyed watching the bulge appear in your stomach with every deep thrust.
He called you sweet names as he came inside you, flooding your womb with his warm cum. It took him all the self-control (and a message from Morgan) not to bend you again over the sink as he watched you walk to the bathroom, his release slowly dripping down your legs. And he wished you only knew how he wanted to push it back inside and keep his cock buried in your raw cunt for the rest of the day.
- - - - - - - ⋆ ★
The Saturday sun beamed over the soccer field where kids are darting back and forth in a burst of energy. The sidelines were lined with parents and family members, all chatting and watching the game with varying degrees of attention. You were standing among them, your eyes following Jack as he weaved between the other kids, his face bright with determination. Every now and then, his laughter carries across the field, and you couldn’t help but smile as well.
Aaron was beside you, his arms crossed as he watched Jack with that focused intensity he always seemed to have when it comes to his son. You could tell that as much as they were both competitive, he was worried that some accidents may happen.
“I’m going to check in with Jack for a minute,” Aaron informed you as he let go of your intertwined hand, nodding toward the bench where Jack was sitting during a break. “Be right back.”
You nodded and watched in silence as Aaron strode across the field toward Jack, the sun catching in his dark hair. You took a deep breath, relaxing a little now that you were alone for a moment. It feels good to be outside, to be with Aaron, but you hate the weird glances some mothers were throwing at you. As if you were doing something illegal.
Just as you were about to take a seat on one of the folding chairs, a familiar man approached you from the side, his expression friendly. You recognized him as one of the other parents and father of one of Jack’s friends at school, though you don’t recall his name right away. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and a warm, easygoing smile.
“Hey there,” he said with a chuckle, gesturing toward the field. “Quite a game, huh?”
You smiled back, letting out a small laugh. “Tell me about it. My bones could never. I’m exhausted just watching them.”
The man laughed, then glanced over at the field before turning his attention back to you. “I’m Tom, by the way,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve seen you around a few times… and my son told me last night he and Jack partnered for the bake sale activity at school.”
You shook his hand. “I think I recall Jack telling me about that bake sale. Is Jake your son?”
“Yes, that’s the one,” Tom replied, nodding fast and chuckling. “I thought you’d think I’m just making up excuses to come up to a pretty woman and start chatting with her—”
“Pretty woman?” you smiled at the compliment, glancing up at him.
“Well, yeah. Anyway…” Tom grinned shyly, clearly pleased. “Yeah, my son was crazy about beating the other boys or something like that. Tell you honestly, I have no idea what to bring. I’m useless in the kitchen, but I don’t want to be that guy who just shows up with store-bought stuff, you know?”
You laughed softly, nodding in understanding. “I do get it. But it’s a good thing they can choose a partner. If you want, I could help you out. I make a pretty mean batch of cookies.”
Tom’s face lit up with genuine gratitude. “Really? That would be amazing. I mean, only if you have time to accommodate— I don’t want to impose.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” you waved off his concern. “I like baking, plus I can invite Jake to come over so I have another little assistant.”
“Or me?” The man teased. “Just kidding. That would be incredible. You just saved me from embarrassment. The old ladies at school… they’re very, you know.”
The sound of your laughter tangled in the air. But as the laughter fades, you felt a subtle shift in the air. You unconsciously wandered your eyes around and realized Aaron was standing just a few feet away, his eyes trained on you and Tom, his expression intense. His strong arms were crossed, and there was a tightness in his jaw that wasn’t there before.
“Hey,” you greeted, offering Aaron a small smile as he stepped closer. “Everything okay with Jack?”
Aaron nodded, though his eyes briefly flickered over to Tom, taking in the easy conversation you’ve been having. “He’s fine,” Aaron replied, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something sharper, something controlled. “Just needed a little pep talk.”
Tom, the poor man oblivious to the tension, smiled at Aaron and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Tom. We were just talking about the kids’ upcoming school bake sale.”
Aaron shook his hand, but there was a slight stiffness to the gesture. “Aaron Hotchner. Jack’s father.”
Tom nodded, then focused back on you. “Thanks again for the offer. If it’s alright, I was thinking— maybe I should grab your number? You know, just so we can coordinate for the bake sale and all that. Would make it easier to figure out what to bring.”
He was just being friendly and practical, that’s what you know. But the suggestion lingered in the air awkwardly. You could feel Aaron tense beside you, the shift in his posture subtle but unmistakable. With hesitation, you glanced at Aaron out of the corner of your eye. His expression has hardened, his jaw clenched just enough to be noticeable, and there was a flash of something dangerous in his eyes—something possessive, territorial even.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Aaron stepped in, his voice low and edged with barely restrained anger. “If you need anything, you can go through me.”
Tom blinked, clearly caught off guard. He forced out a chuckle, trying to brush off the tension with a good-natured grin. “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. Just thought it’d be easier—”
“You don’t need her number for that.”
You swallowed hard, feeling everyone’s attention on the growing commotion. Aaron’s eyes were still fixed on Tom, his stance rigid, his body language screaming of a barely controlled fury. This wasn’t just about the number.
Tom raised his hands slightly, clearly trying to defuse the situation. “Hey, no problem,” he said, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes as he glanced between you and Aaron. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”
You forced a tight smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Tom. Maybe we can let the kids decide and start there.”
Tom nodded again. “Yeah, sure. I’ll catch you both around.” He gave a quick wave before turning and walking back toward the crowd of parents, his pace a bit quicker than before.
As soon as Tom was out of earshot, the silence between you and Aaron felt heavy. You could feel the heat of Aaron’s anger, his jaw still clenched as he silently watched Tom disappear into the distance.
You glanced up at Aaron, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “What was that about?”
“What?” Aaron finally tore his gaze away from Tom, turning to face you. There was a storm in his eyes, it made your breath catch. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admitted, his voice rougher than before. Then he mumbled, “Or him having your number. Why would he have your fucking number for? Bake sale and all that, that fucking idiot.”
You grimaced at his admission, of how easily he admitted what he felt. You’ve never seen Aaron like this before— so openly protective, so possessive— and it stirred something deep inside you that was too intense to put a name on.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “He was just being friendly, Aaron. It was harmless.”
“Maybe to you,” His voice was still tensed as he retorted. “But I didn’t trust him. And I don’t like the idea of other men thinking they can just… move in like that.”
You bit back a smile, a little amused by his jealousy.
“We were talking about bake sales, not making any plans to run off together,” you nudged his arm with your elbow teasingly.
Aaron took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stared down at you. “Oh, so you can joke. Do you think this is funny?”
“What? Of course no–”
“Jack will be out on a sleepover,” he leaned closer to your ear just to whisper, “We’ll fucking talk later, hm? Save your explanations ‘cause I’ll fuck you like a whore.”
Your breath staggered as you pressed your lips shut. You knew by then that it was going to be a long, long night.
- - - - - - - ⋆ ★
The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang as you and Aaron stumbled inside, your bodies pressed tightly together. His big, calloused hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers digging into your skin as your mouths crashed together in a rough, desperate kiss.
Everything felt hazy, like you were moving through a dream, but there was nothing gentle about the way you were kissing him, or the way his hands were gripping you. It felt like he couldn’t get close enough. It was frantic, dirty, almost reckless, as if both of you were on the verge of losing control and neither of you cared.
You barely noticed the door swing shut behind you as Aaron pushed you roughly up against the wall, his mouth never leaving yours, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through your body, but the only thing you could focus on was him— his scent, his warmth, the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his strong body felt pressed up against you.
“Aaron…” you managed to gasp out between kisses, your voice breathless. You could barely think, your mind clouded with desire, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea, a litany. “D-daddy... slow- slow... down...”
His hands were everywhere— on your waist, your hips, sliding down to the curve of your thighs as he gripped you tightly, pressing his bulge against your needy cunt. You gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed by another fierce kiss as his body pinned you harder against the wall, pressing you there as if you might disappear if he let go.
“I’m s-sorry… D-daddy, please…”
“Please what?” he groaned against your mouth, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then to your neck, the coarse hair on his chin scraping against your skin as he kissed a heated path down your throat. “Now you’re sorry? Bet you fucking liked the attention earlier. Thought you aren’t a whore?”
“No. I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry. I’m not—”
His rough hands slid up your sides, gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up and over your head with a quick, impatient movement. The cool air hit your skin, but it was immediately replaced by the warmth of his touch as his hands moved over your bare skin, his fingers digging into your flesh like he wanted his mark so deeply ingrained in your skin and your whole being.
“Feels like you’re forgetting who you belong to.”
You shook you head, moaning as you felt his hand travel closer to your heat. “No, no. I belong to you, sir. Only you. I’m so sorry, daddy.”
“Are you?” he barked a taunting laugh. “And why do you belong to me then, little girl? Why does this pussy belong to me?”
“Because… b-because you take care of m-me, daddy.”
“I fucking do, don’t I?” he remarked, tracing soft circles on your clit through the rough fabric of your jeans. “And I’m so fucking good to you. So why are you fucking ungrateful, angel? Batting your eyelashes and giggling with other men like a cheap whore on the streets?”
You felt like crying. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. You messed up and now he’s mad. But you don’t like the words coming out of his mouth. You only want to be daddy’s good girl.
“No, baby. I bet you it won’t,” he pulled back for a second, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, his chest rising and falling with the force of his ragged breaths. “I’ll fuck you until your little belly’s round with my cum and you’re pregnant with my child. I’ll knock you up so every man will know whose cock split your tight cunt open. You like that, little girl? You want to be a good whore for daddy?”
You nodded and grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him back down to you, crashing your lips together again as the two of you stumbled further into the room, barely able to focus on anything but each other. Your legs hit the edge of the couch, and before you know it, Aaron was already manspreading in front of you, while you knelt in front of him, your hands laid on your lap.
“Atta girl, look at you,” you keened at the praise, biting on your lower lip as you waited patiently for him to remove his shirt and finish unbuckling his belt.
“Can- can I suck your cock, s-sir?” you said weakly. “Please?”
Aaron hissed as his cock sprang free, slapping the base of his soft stomach. His cock was already hard and leaking, the tip shiny with beads of precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. But still, you waited for his permission, glancing up at him innocently, patiently.
He leaned on the couch and pumped his length slowly, an amused smirk on his lips. “Remove your pants.”
You whimpered and did what he told you. That wasn’t the permission you were waiting for but still you obliged eagerly. Your eyes focused on his hand slowly fisting his hardening cock before glancing up and meeting his eyes. Aaron let out a deep breath as he took in your naked body, your tits, your now swollen lips, and even your thighs that you were subtly rubbing to create some friction.
“Play with your tits, baby,” he said gruffly, “Put on a show for me like a good girl. Go on.”
There was something possessive in his gaze, a wildness that you’d never seen in him before, but it sent a thrill directly through your wet core. You played with your tits, kneaded the soft mound, and pinched your nipples making you whimper pathetically.
Aaron pumped his cock a little faster, his hungry eyes following your movements. “Spread your legs, want to see that pussy of yours.”
It felt humiliating, to scamper on your knees to follow his orders. But still you did. Because the moment you opened your legs for him, Aaron let out a loud growl and gripped his cock tightly on his fist, as if he was trying not to cum just by the sight of your wet cunt. You felt happy with his reaction.
With trembling fingers, you opened your puffy folds to show him how much you desired to be fucked, your clit swollen, your cunt desperately fluttering and clenching on nothing.
“Is that all for me?”
You nodded, your body tingling with pleasure and pride.
“D-daddy…” you sounded meek, all up for the taking. “Want you, p-please. Sir, please? Please?”
You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath as he thumbed the leaking tip of his big and veiny cock. In a swift movement, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you sigh in relief.
“Ride my cock then. Show me how much you want it.”
There was hunger in him that matched your own. The sound of your highpitched whining and Aaron’s deep grunt weaved through the air. You sank down his big cock, your cunt clenching to accommodate his girth. Aaron was so big you don’t think it’s possible to get used to it, the burn of the stretch was there, but it was heady and intoxicating.
“Aaron,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as your fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him closer, needing more, needing him. The intensity was overwhelming, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. “D-daddy, help. Help, please.”
“Pathetic,” he growled against your lips. With one sharp thrust, he plunged the rest of his cock into your raw cunt.
“T-thank you, sir…” you mewled at the feeling, grounding your hips in slow circles. “Good- feels g-good…”
His lips trailed back down your neck, your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His beard scratched your skin. Every touch, every kiss, feels like fire, igniting something primal deep inside of you that you hadn’t even realized was there.
“Does it, angel? Who’s making you feel good right now?”
You arched your back, pressing into him. “Y-you, sir. J-just you...”
A harsh slap landed at the side of your thigh.
“Louder!”
“You, d-daddy! Only y-you. OH MY GOD, AARON!” you screamed, hiding your flushed cheeks at the crook of his neck as Aaron plowed his cock so deep into your frail body. “You’re making me feel g-good. You fuck me so well, daddy! I love your cock, you own me, you ow-”
You heard a low growl reverberate through his heaving chest. He propped his knees at the edge of the couch for better leverage. You felt his cock pulsating deep inside you, his thighs strong beneath your trembling legs. Your vision was blurry with unshed tears and the force of Aaron’s cock ramming inside you. The noise leaving his open lips was dirty, primal, so filthy all you could do was take it.
You let him ruin you.
Let him use you to his heart content.
Like that’s all you’re worth for.
“I’ll fuck my baby inside of you, little girl, ‘s that what you want?” he panted beneath you, his hips staggering a little. “I’ll make you all round and pretty. Everyone will know whose whore you a-are…”
Yes, yes, yes. You couldn’t bring yourself to say. You just whimpered, your voice raw and absolutely fucked out. You just let yourself feel how his cock assaulted your tight, little cunt. There was a familiar coil in your stomach, and then the familiar squelching sound.
“I-I’m s-” you squealed loudly, high-pitched and frantic. “I-I’m coming, ‘m c-coming, daddy, ple-”
Aaron grunted and plunged his cock on a particularly deep thrust, feeling the tip nestle at the sweet bundle of sensitive nerves that made you roll your eyes. You felt Aaron’s cock slide out of your used pussy, a gush of clear release dampening Aaron’s belly and the floor below.
“F-fuck! Look at that…”
“Oh- oh my go-” you bit your lower lip in overstimulation, yet you didn’t do anything to protest when he thrust his thick cock inside again. “Too much… t-too much, sen-sensitive. D-daddy! P-please, no more!”
His cock slid out the second time you squirted. Another gush of release dampened the carpet below. The force was too overwhelming your knees buckled, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You heard Aaron’s pleasured grunt as you clenched even tighter around his cock, your velvety walls hugging his girth like it was molded to be there.
“S-stop, d-daddy! S-stop…”
He scarcely heard you. You could feel every inch of him, the way his body moves against yours, the heat of his skin, the sweat, the strength in his hands as they explore every part of you. He groped you like you were nothing but a fucktoy— one that he will discard the moment he finally got his release.
“See this, little girl?” he grabbed your neck and forced you to look at your belly. You whined at the faint sight of his cock bulging against your skin. “That’s h-how deep I am, you feel that? That’s how well you take me. G-good girl, baby.”
You nodded. “S-so deep, d-daddy. You make me feel s-so good…”
“I’m so close…” you heard him whisper.
You traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension beneath his skin as his breath hitched against your neck. With the rest of your energy left, you lifted yourself and met his desperate thrust. The sound was lewd, disgusting– so wet and filthy.
The world outside disappeared—there was no sound, no movement, no thoughts. Just Aaron. Just him and his big, girthy cock, and his desperate thrust. Beyond the heat of his body against yours, the endless ropes of warm cum flooded your fertile womb. You only closed your eyes and let him take you. Take everything he wants from you.
“It’s coming out of your pretty cunt, baby. Look, you’re so full of my cum…” Aaron said in awe a moment later. He got you lying on your back on the couch, your legs wide open, while he knelt in front of you. He prodded your puffy folds with wide, hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re so messy, angel.”
He licked the cum that dripped out of you. Your cunt felt raw and sore. Too used. So you whimpered as a protest. You’re too sensitive. Too sated. Too much. Too much. Too much–
Aaron smiled smugly when he saw the drunk look on your face.
“Give me one more, angel?”
Happy 600-something, everyone! I know this is long overdue but it's better late than later, right? Anyway, hope everyone's well and healthy (I'm sick right now so don't be like me!) Drink a lot of water and eat well. As always, I appreciate every like, replies, reblogs- everything. Thank you so much for the support. I love you all. See you on the next ones! xx
Nothing in this world has ever baffled Aaron Hotchner more than your questionable taste in men. And after witnessing firsthand how shitty your boyfriend was, he made it his night’s mission to steal your mind from him and show you what you’ve been missing all along.
You were the most sensible member of the BAU as far as Aaron is concerned.
In almost 5 years of working together, he’s never had a problem with you or your work ethic. You’re intelligent and logical, and you never made any rash decision that put yourself or anyone on the team in danger, nor did you ever compromise a case for any reckless, unaccounted reason. Years passed and all the doubts he initially had about you melted into a puddle of respect and adoration. And since then, you never heard him or anyone else contradict your arguments.
In your defense, being the youngest in the FBI gave you the unabating urge to follow orders and protocols as they were, to always play by the book exactly the way you were taught in the Academy. Or maybe because Morgan was right when he teasingly profiled you as someone with people-pleasing tendencies— especially to Hotch and Rossi, given they are higher-ups and had the longest experience in the Bureau.
Nothing was wrong with that, of course. You’re good at what you’re doing. You’re productive; and a valuable member of the team. Slowly over the past years, you’ve gained everyone’s trust and respect. And you’ve been made aware that everyone always has your back…
Unless the topic is your relationships.
“There’s a new Korean barbecue place down the block, do you want to join us?” You stopped midway through arranging your weekly reports as Spencer leaned against your table.
Glancing around the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Derek standing by Emily’s desk, watching you and Spencer subtly from a distance. You almost snorted when Emily and Penelope scampered to look away, while Derek only crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows— like he always does when he’s pissed.
You leaned towards Spencer, whispering. “They know, don’t they?”
“Garcia knows,” He whispered back promptly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell anyone.”
You stared at him suspiciously, eyes squinting a little. It’s just a joke. If there’s anyone in the team that you trust with your little secrets, that’s Spencer. But you’re curious if he knows how Penelope got wind of your secret date tonight. As far as you know, Spencer was the only person who knew about this.
“I don’t judge you...” He replied with a simple shrug. “You know, people who’ve grown attached to unhealthy relationships find it difficult to leave. Given your people-pleasing tendencies, I know you’re holding onto the chance of proving yourself to him. And you’re still waiting for him to realize your worth. It’s sad actually, now that I remember that.”
You gasped in offense and disbelief, making you slap your palm on his shoulder. While Spencer only grinned and chuckled at your reaction.
“Wait till you hear what Morgan has to say.”
You shivered at the thought. Derek has always been protective of you. Ever since you joined the team, he’s claimed that you’re his little sister. Not that it was a problem, of course, you absolutely love having an older brother. It’s just that… you don’t know how to act whenever he’s pissed because you never had a brother in the first place.
As you wandered your gaze to where your friends were standing, a worried frown lidded your expression. Derek hasn’t moved an inch and is pretty much still watching you, obviously seething in annoyance. On his side stood Emily and Penelope, both looking at you with guilty faces.
“He’s going to kill me,” you mumbled to yourself.
Spencer could only snort. “Yeah, right. I wonder why...”
You turned to him in resignation, heaving a deep sigh as you did so. You focused on arranging the folders on your desk before hitting him square on the chest with the documents.
“Enjoy the weekend, Dr. Reid,” You bid him goodnight before walking away.
“What about Korean barbecue?” He called out, raising both his arms in the middle of the office.
You whirled around to face them, still taking small steps backward.
“I’ve got a date!” You announced with a cheeky grin.
The door to Aaron’s office was left open as usual. From your desk earlier, you saw him working on some paperwork due for this week. There was a mountain of it on his table. And you saw him several times leaning on his chair and massaging his temple— not that you’re watching.
“Sir?” You knocked softly on the door surface to get his attention. He was focused on the document he was reading, his eyebrows tugged together in a scowl.
When he heard your voice, though, he glanced up and almost immediately caught your eyes.
“Hey…” He greeted shortly, smiling as he leaned on his swivel chair. “Come in.”
You mirrored his smile as you handed him the documents. “My reports, sir...”
He gave you a brief nod, thanking you promptly after accepting the pile of folders. You stood in front of him for a moment, taking in every bit of his features: his clean-cut hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw— how can someone be that attractive while under stress? Good God.
“Everything okay?”
You blinked in confusion. “Sir?”
“You’re staring,” He pointed out, chuckling. “Are you visiting that Korean barbecue with Reid?”
Your eyes automatically darted to the glass window, seeing that everyone was still waiting for you at Emily’s table. Even JJ was there, listening to Morgan ranting in frustration.
“No, I have a date later…” You admitted shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up.
“Ah…” His eyebrows perked in surprise. “But I heard Garcia wanting you to come with them, do they know about this date?”
You pursed your lips before shaking your head… then nodding.
“They didn’t know— well Reid knew— then Garcia— then now everyone else.”
Aaron nodded slowly, trying to understand your point. “And I assume you don’t want them to know?”
A deep sigh unknowingly escaped your lips.
As much as the team tries not to profile each other, it comes out instinctively. One time after discovering your ex-boyfriend was commenting publicly on other women’s bikini posts, you got so distracted that Emily had to pull you aside to make sure you were alright. Then another time when you came across the secret account he made to continue flirting with other women, you got questioned by Hotch for being so distracted.
They were so adamant in knowing what was bothering you. This is why you always try not to bring your personal issues to work.
“I’m going out with James...”
As soon as those words came out, Aaron looked stunned.
“Come again?”
“James…” You mumbled, your voice nearly cracking in embarrassment. “We’re seeing each other… again…”
It would’ve been better if the floor cracked open and swallowed you alive. The way Aaron was staring at you in disbelief was enough to shrink you in shame. You could even see the disappointment in his eyes, which is way worse than being judged in your opinion.
“The guy who dumped you after knowing you’re earning more than him and thinks women should quit their jobs after marriage?” He asked, scowling.
“Nope, that’s Benedict.”
Aaron heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sight was so funny you almost laughed at his face.
“Is James the guy who comments on bikini pictures?”
“That’s Mark, sir…” You smiled awkwardly, scratching your ear. “He… he’s the one with the… video…”
“The one who cheated on you and filmed everything?” His scowl deepened even more. Is that even possible?
“Yes... sir... but he said he changed— okay— time to leave.”
You bolted out of his office. With how his eyes turned sharp as he heard your argument, you knew you just pushed his button.
Now it’s a funny memory, but Aaron Hotchner used to be your dream. Everyone in the BAU knew you spent your first year crushing hard on him. Until a random weekend bar hopping crushed your dream. Truth or Dare. When Morgan dared Aaron to make out with the young lady by the bar counter, you learned Aaron doesn’t like younger girls.
That made you step back. He’d obviously like career women; the mature ones, elegantly gorgeous, maybe with a good figure, curves in the right places, big boobs—
All men are the same. What do you expect, honestly? That’s what your ex-boyfriends like the most. Also their reason for cheating on you. You’re not their type, and you shouldn’t act too surprised because you knew that in the first place. Or that they have needs to fulfill. Apparently, you lack both.
“Hey, you okay?” The warmth of Aaron’s palm pulled you out of your reverie. You turned to him fast, blinking in confusion.
“Y-yes, sir. Were you saying something?”
He pursed his lips a little, nodding towards the view outside the car window.
“We’ve been here for five minutes.”
“Oh…” Heat crept on your cheeks after taking a peek, realizing you’ve already arrived in your apartment building. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”
“Of that dumbfuck asshole?”
You chuckled awkwardly, baffled by his sudden choice of words. He’s never the type who curses out of nowhere. “Sir?”
“He made you wait for three fucking hours,” He retorted, his voice calm— dangerously so. “The one you call ‘boyfriend.’”
“He is my boyfriend…”
He stared at you, unamused. “After everything he did?”
“Well…”
At least you know everyone was right: Derek, Penelope, Emily… Aaron. Maybe you’re a hopeless case. For someone decently smart, you’re a complete idiot. You should’ve seen this coming; these men will never change. There’s no way a smart woman would allow this to happen again.
The worst part is that you couldn’t even call your friends to pick you up after getting ditched. You just missed the last train, you couldn’t book a cab, and they’re all hanging out in a Korean restaurant— except Aaron. Which led him to bring you home instead.
“What? You'd still defend him?”
After a few lingering moments of just staring at each other, you decided to offer him a small smile instead of answering. You thanked him for the ride, bid him a good night, and told him to spend his weekend resting. With a sweet yet polite smile, you stepped out of his car.
But Aaron got out before you could even walk away, following you inside the building.
“I swear, I’m fine. You should go home, Aaron,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.
Aaron walked in, trailing behind you, his presence and smell immediately filling your small apartment. You closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing in the middle of your living room, his gaze sweeping over the space before settling back on you.
“I’ll rest when I know you’re okay,” He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Nice apartment.”
“Thanks…” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you...?”
Your words died in your throat as you found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of Aaron Hotchner. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stoic and something you couldn’t quite place.
“You know, I never understood your preference,” He began cautiously, his eyes directed at you. “You never made good decisions with guys, don’t you?”
“I know that, Aaron.”
“They’re all idiots. Does that turn you on?”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart racing as the words sank in.
“Does being treated like trash turns you on?”
A warm tear licked your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, feeling embarrassed and hurt by his words. Aaron didn’t move an inch but the way his eyes traveled along your face melted his irritation a little. Silently, he reached out and pulled you into an embrace, his arms solid and warm around your figure.
“Fucking hell…” He mumbled against your hair. “I try so fucking hard to be good to you and you let those schoolboys make you cry?”
You buried your face in his chest. “You’re the one making me cry right now.”
“It’s because I’m right.”
“I don’t need your lecture, Aaron Hotchner.”
You pulled back slightly to look at him. Your gaze collided, and you saw something shift in his eyes. The worried frown was still there, but there was something else— something more intense, subtly primal.
“If you’re expecting an apology then you’re wrong.” The muscle on his jaw ticked before he leaned toward your ear. “You know I can treat you so much better. I’d never make you wait and let someone else take you home. I can spend the entire night proving that to you.”
Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters and his reaction. But then you felt him respond, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss.
You melted into him, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his touch causing intrinsic need to erupt at the pit of your stomach. The kiss grew messier, wetter, and uncoordinated. His hands found the crest of your breast, caressing you through your shirt with gentle yet possessive strokes.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.
You nodded immediately, your own breath coming in short gasps. “I do, god, yes…”
You shivered at his touch, pressing your body closer to him. You found yourself unbuttoning your dress shirt, eagerly so, making Aaron smirk as his eyes followed your clumsy movements.
Once undone, you quickly threw your shirt on the ground. A satisfied glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes before he captured your lips again. This time, more urgent. You felt his arms snaking down your body.
“Should’ve known you’re a dirty slut...” A low chuckle rambled in his throat, his lips leaving soft kisses on your jaw. “Did you wear this red lingerie all day? Were you expecting that schoolboy to fuck you tonight, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes…” You moaned.
“Yes what, slut? You’re wearing this all day or that you wanted him to fuck you tonight?” He asked mockingly. “Tell me, baby, have you ever been fucked by a real man?”
“Aaron, please—” You let out a gasp, feeling your cunt getting wetter every second you spent untouched. “The left door– need you– please—”
“How greedy.”
Effortlessly, he perched you on his muscular arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom. All while you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your heart pounding with lust and anticipation.
He dropped you on the bed, his eyes dark with need. He took a moment to scan you, his gaze sweeping over your body with reverence.
“Take that pants off now. I want to see everything.”
The coldness of his voice sent tingles to your wet cunt. You quickly scrambled to your knees, your trembling hands stiffly finding their way to the button of your slacks. The thin fabric slid down your legs, exposing more of your body. You feel so exposed, all for his eyes.
“Fuck...” He breathed, palming his hard cock through his pants. “I always imagined how you’d look naked. You have no idea how much restraint it took me not to touch you every time we shared a room.”
A coil in your stomach tightened as he loosened his tie, carelessly tossing it on the ground. Now he’s left with his work shirt and pants, and the contrast of your nakedness alone excites you even more.
He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his pointer finger tilting your chin upward. Just enough for you to meet his eyes.
“Didn’t you say you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, slowly, teasingly down to your jaw.
You whimpered. “Hmm… yeah…”
“Care to remind me what that boy did to you?” He taunted, his voice menacingly low.
The warmth of his big, calloused hands explored the softness of your bare skin. You moaned softly, feeling his thumb and pointer finger rubbing one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
“He-” You swallowed thickly, clamping your thighs shut. “H-he cheated on me…”
Aaron hummed mockingly, tutting. “And you still want him here right now?”
“No…” You said quickly, blinking dazedly at him. “Want you, Aaron.”
“Is that how you talk to your boss, sweetheart?” He leaned backward, withdrawing his hand from touching you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question. “For a cheating slut, I’d say you’re quite demanding.”
You ignored the wetness pooling in between your thighs. His eyes were dark and piercing as he took your nakedness in, while you stared back innocently. You reached for his pants, resting your palm on his clothed pelvis.
“I’m sorry, sir,” You said in a whisper, quietly unbuckling his belt as you did so. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”
“You better keep your promise, little girl.”
You gave him a sweet smile, Aaron’s chest rose and fell with every breath. His gaze was fixed on your fingers as they fumbled on his belt. The air hummed with anticipation, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribs.
As the belt slid free, Aaron’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Leaning in, he inserted two of his fingers into your mouth. And you suck diligently, wetting his fingers thoroughly, staring at him all while your hands blindly unzipped his pants. After a few tries, you finally tugged down his pants and underwear, making him hiss quietly.
“Aaron...”
“Yes, sweetheart?” He rasped, frowning at you in concern. “Do you want to stop?”
“Can we… can we film this?”
He glanced at the ceiling, chuckling in disbelief. You watched how his throat bobbed with every swallow, and you squeezed your thighs for some friction. God, you’re so wet.
“And who would you show that, baby?” He asked curiously, pumping his cock in slow motion as he waited for your answer. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Do you want to show your boyfriend how much of slut you are for an older man’s cock? Is that what you want?”
“Y-yes, sir…”
And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, naked, with Aaron’s big cock deep in your throat, staring up at his phone. Aaron was sitting on the edge of the bed, filming everything.
“What a dirty slut, you like that?” He asked hoarsely, tugging you away from his cock. You gasped loudly, feeling Aaron’s precum and your saliva dripping at the corner of your mouth.
“Thank you, sir...” you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as he slapped his veiny cock on your cheek and lip, spreading the wetness across your face.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re so cockdrunk...” He mused, laughing to himself, making sure he was capturing everything on the video. “How does it feel to cheat with your boss, sweetheart?”
“G-good…” You gulped thickly. “Should’ve d-done this soon, sir…” You mumbled in a daze, opening your mouth to take him again but he firmly tapped your cheek to stop you from doing so.
“Lay down and open those pretty legs for me.”
The room smelled like sweat and sex, wrapping you both in the heat of the moment. Soft moans and whispers filled the air, bouncing at the four corners of the room.
You closed your eyes in embarrassment and lay quietly in the middle of the bed, following Aaron’s order. In your past relationships, nothing was ever like this. It was always quick, sometimes even one-sided. You’ve never felt confident with your body, and it’s not like you had too many experiences to learn and grow your confidence from.
“I said open your legs, slut. Are you dumb?” Aaron slapped your thigh using his free hand, the one not holding the phone. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”
You shut your legs even more, shaking your head lightly.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re shy...” He tutted, feining pity. “Open those legs right now or I’m leaving. Maybe you can call your little boyfriend to take care of you.”
You quickly shook your head, a whimper caught in your throat. You open your legs a little while your hands still covered your wet, glistening cunt. Aaron frowned at the sight, obviously displeased by your slow, unsure actions.
“Don’t test me, little girl.”
With an impatient sigh, he separated your thighs using his vacant hand. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit your wetness. You watched in silence as Aaron focused his phone on your dripping cunt, running the pad of his middle finger up your clit down to your wet slit.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Who’s this for, hm?” He taunted, waiting for your answer.
Your toes curled in anticipation, mumbling. “Yours, sir…”
“Louder, slut. I’m trying to fucking record, remember?”
The world around you melted away as he pressed his middle finger inside your wet cunt. You felt feverish, growing even more desperate as he slowly moved his finger. Your breathing became ragged and heavy as you slowly felt the rhythm.
“Aaron… oh god…” You rasped breathlessly, both your hands reaching for his wrist as he added another finger. “That feels so g-good, sir…”
“Yeah?” He mocked, his teeth sank on his bottom lip as he watched his fingers assault your pussy through the screen of his phone. “Good girl, baby, look at you taking my fingers well.”
“I’m c-close, sir—” Your voice trembled with the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. “Sir, ple—”
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
That’s all it took for your resolution to crumble. Your orgasm racked through you with so much force, your back arching, your lips opened to a silent scream. You never came that hard before. And good God, what have you been missing all along? Aaron watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest warm with lust and adoration.
“You’re gorgeous, baby.”
You hummed mindlessly, still coming down from your high.
“Need you now, Aaron... Please…” You croaked, throat dry. “Need your cock inside.”
“Say that to the camera, slut.”
You propped yourself a little, immediately facing the phone he was holding. “Need your big cock inside me, sir. Please, fuck me…”
The raw desperation in your voice made him smile. “Ride me then, sweetheart.”
You wasted no time and scrambled to your knees. Aaron deftly took his position and laid on his back. You licked your lips as you stared at his huge cock resting on his stomach. You just know that he’d be big… you just never thought you would see it firsthand. He’s thick and long, with veins decorating it.
Heat crept on your cheeks as you climbed on his lap and sat on his thick cock, grinding your wet pussy and moaning as you felt him pulsate beneath you. You focused your eyes on the camera that was still focused on you, your hands moving to your breasts as you continued grinding on him.
Aaron leaned forward a little and groped one of your tits, slapping it lightly with a breathy sigh.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Your blush deepened. “Condom, sir?”
“Up to you, sweetheart. I’m not active.”
“I’m on birth control…”
Smiling, you took his cock and ground the tip against your wet pussy, letting out a staggering breath as you sank in slow motion. The thickness of his big cock stretched you like never before. You’ve never taken something as big as this. You bit your lower lip as you felt the slight burn of the stretch, focusing on how Aaron’s chest rose in heavy breaths.
“You’re so warm, baby…” Aaron moaned quietly. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. Go on, sweetheart.”
It didn’t take long for your movement to become desperate. You started bouncing up and down with vigor, chasing both of your highs. Aaron’s big cock reached spots inside your body you never knew existed, his neatly trimmed pubes tickling your sensitive clit. Your moans grew louder and louder as he kept hitting the spongy spot inside you.
“Oh god, sir…” You moaned pathetically, bouncing on his cock in pure desperation. “Ruin me with your cock, Aaron… you feel so good.”
“You’re so tight and warm, sweetheart.” You frowned at him in confusion when he handed you his phone. “Continue filming while I fuck you.”
You accepted his phone and focused the camera on him. His rough hands found your hips. Without warning, he started pistoling his hips, ramming his big cock in and out of your trembling body. You felt the burn of every drag of his cock and you’re not even sure if you’re still capturing something on your video.
“I’m coming, baby…” He said breathlessly. “I’ll fill you with my cum, is that what you want?”
You helped him chase his orgasm by meeting his hard thrusts. “Yes, yes- sir, yes, fill me with your c-cum.”
“Can your boyfriend do this, sweetheart?”
“No, sir, no–” You shook your head frantically, tears stinging your eyes. “O-only you.”
“Damn right, slut. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”
You’re not sure of whatever response left your mouth. You’re a babbling, mindless mess. A cockslut who can only think of Aaron’s big dick ruining you in the nastiest way possible. You can feel your peak nearing, making you whimper in ferality.
“I’ll fill you over and over—” His thick fingers tightened around your waist, leaving red, angry marks on your wake. “Until that’s the only thing you can think about.”
A shrill scream escaped your lips on a particularly hard thrust, feeling Aaron’s big cock pulsate inside you. After a few seconds, warm ropes of cum filled your womb. You shuddered at the feeling, clamping your thighs as they trembled excruciatingly. You didn’t even notice that you already let go of Aaron’s phone, completely forgotten on the cushion.
“F-fuck… Aaron—” You moaned in relief, craning your neck to the ceiling. Flashing lights sparkled even on your closed eyes.
His wet lips trailed on your sweaty neck, his teeth sinking in, leaving fresh sets of marks. “I can be a better boyfriend than him, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
You hummed shakily but you didn’t say anything. The way you’ve gone nonverbal filled Aaron with so much pride.
His hands found your waist again, making you whine as his cock slid out of you. Effortless, he thew you back on the bed, now on all fours. The new position felt primal, and exposing. You quickly felt the tip of Aaron’s hard cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, fucking in the trail of cum leaking out of your used pussy.
“I can do this all night, sweetheart. You won’t even think about him.”
I’d love to interact with everybody! And I sure do appreciate any thoughts or reactions. Don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!
a/n: im writing what i want !!!!!!!!!!!!! i have a gun kink SUE ME !!! if you don't like it don't read it !!!!!!!
anyhow HAPPY READING
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which hotch comes home to find you reading and finds out you have a gun kink
warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot going on here yall idk, gun going in ur vag, reader loves smut she's just like me fr, gun kink!, dirty talk, established relationship, yada yada
wc: 2.3k
When Hotch returned home from work, the ritual he had was comforting in its predictability: shedding his coat and shoes, setting down his briefcase, and locking up his gun. Then, he'd find you, as he always did, nestled into the couch, book in hand.
It was something he could count on, as reliable as the sun rising in the morning. Your bookshelf was a spectrum of genres--science fiction, poetry, mystery, historical, fantasy--name it, you've likely read it. Among these, he had noticed a trend--your favoritism for romance. It was fitting, as you've always been an ardent believer in fairytales and happy endings. It was a belief he intended to uphold, a fairytale ending he was set on creating for you.
The book you held today had a cover he didn't recognize. He cleared his throat, announcing his arrival. Your eyes met his in an instant, and he was struck anew by just how pretty you are. Effortlessly so. He told you as much, though you seldom accepted the compliment.
"Hi, handsome," you said, infusing your words with honey as you folded the corner of your page and laid the book aside. Spencer would scold you for that. "How was work?"
A shrug rolled off his shoulders, fingers working to loosen the tie that felt like a noose after a long day. Stepping further into the living room, he sighed, "Heavy with paperwork."
"That's no fun," you said, lips curving into a delicate pout.
It was an invitation he couldn't ignore. Leaning in, his hands found your face, and as your lips met, you giggled, pulling back just enough to study his face, the harsh lines under his eyes, reading the fatigue on his features like a well-thumbed novel.
"What are you reading?" he questioned, easing down next to you, the couch dipping to his weight.
You dodged his eyes, fingers absently fidgeting with your earlobe as you gave him a half-smile, tilting the book just enough so he couldn't catch the title.
"Just some romance book," you admitted, with a slight uptick in your voice. "Garcia recommended it."
He regarded you with a contemplative frown. Normally, a book you would have gone on for hours, detailing every character, plot twist, and subplot, dissecting its layers and intricacies in exhaustive detail.
Aaron watched as you placed the book on the side table, movements deliberate. You positioned yourself across his lip, a seemingly innocent distraction. It almost worked. Your soft thighs sinking into his calloused hands, as if they were crafted just for him. He recognized your ploy, though, giving your leg a squeeze a little tighter than necessary.
You leaned in, your breath tinged with the minty traces of your afternoon tea, a detail as intimate as any secret shared between lovers. He nipped at your lip, a gentle diversion, as his hand crept towards the book.
You wriggled in his hold, vying to get there first, but he was faster. Much faster at that, although you loved to challenge him on that. He secretly loved when you did. He loved you.
"What are you doing?" Your voice was rising in a panicked pitch. You stretched your hand out, trying to reclaim it, but he kept it just beyond reach.
Aaron's arm formed a band around you, effectively pinning your arms to your torso while you writhed within his grasp. A groan was stifled in his throat. "Quit that."
You smiled, a hint of tease in the curve of your lips and stilled. You were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it was a feat achieved with little effort.
"Why are you being so secretive about this?"
He nodded to the book. The cover was unassuming, black with a smattering of designs that sprawled across it. It looked like any other book you read.
"I'm not being secretive," you insisted, deliberately avoiding his probing gaze. "You're just being nosy."
"Oh, am I?" He couldn't help but laugh, nose crinkling as he dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.
You nodded, not saying anything in response. He thumbed through the book, opening it to a random page.
"Wait--," you pleaded, but his attention was already glued to the ink. You wrapped yourself around him, your face buried in the folds of his crisp dress shirt as you murmured into the fabric, "please don't."
His arm shifted from your waist to cradle the back of your neck. "Gasping at the cool metal of the gun running across my belly, I want him press it into my panties."
Your breath caught, warmth flooding your cheeks as you pressed your face deeper into his chest. "Aaron, stop."
But he didn't, of course, he was far too intrigued.
"Parting my legs, I roll into the metal. He runs it back and forth across my pussy, wetting it against the barrel to my entrance," He continued, wetting the pad of his thumb as he turned the page, eyes meeting yours.
He cocked an eyebrow as if waiting for your response. You didn't give him one, huffing a sigh as you plucked the book from his hands and flung it onto the cushions of the couch.
"Are you...into this?" He articulated each word with deliberate slowness, as if navigating a minefield. "This is a little intense."
You groan, tucking your chin down to your chest as you fought against the tingling sensation clawing up your spine.
"I don't know." The words tumbled out in a murmur, a feeble shield against the embarrassment flooding your senses.
It was the truth. You didn't know. Ink on a page was a far cry from reality. Nonetheless, your recent daydreams were filled with images of Aaron with his gun. God, forbid you see him on duty.
He shifted you off his lap, and you felt the corners of your mouth turn downward involuntarily. You watched his retreating figure vanish down the hall, your thoughts racing at breakneck speed, gripped by the fear that you had scared him off, that this was his tipping point.
The welling tears were poised to fall, but they paused as he came back into view. Holding his gun.
Your breath halted, a knot forming in your throat as you clumsily rose to your knees on the couch, your eyes wide and transfixed on him.
You watched, more like ogled, as he methodically removed the magazine, opening the action and ejecting the cartridges of the gun, putting the safety into place. Your throat felt dry. His advance towards you was predatory, a slow march that rekindled a well-known flutter in your stomach.
"Aaron?"
He stepped in front of you, the firearm dangling loosely at his side. You gazed up at him, peering through the shelter of your lashes.
"Do you want me to fuck you with this?"
You knew you said you didn't know if this was something you were into, yet here you were, retracting every syllable. Suddenly so incredibly turned on it almost hurt.
You nodded vigorously, your enthusiasm outpacing your self-awareness.
The look he gave you was one you recognized instantly, eliciting yet another soft pout before you gave in. "Yes, please, Aaron."
"Good girl," he said, making your heart skip a beat as he pressed the nose of the gun into your chest, forcing you backward. "Always so good for me."
You nodded again, even though there was no need to, but you weren't really focused on his words. You were focused on the gun pressing into your body, imagining it pressed against your clit, up your pussy.
"You're sure, um," you managed, trying to catch your breath, pausing in the middle of your sentence to clear your throat, "that all the safety stuff is on?"
You sounded dumb, you were aware, but all intellectual thoughts were out the window.
He let out a deep chuckle, the sound sending another wave of desire straight to your core. "Yes, baby, all of the safety stuff is on."
"Okay, good."
He pressed his lips to yours, the gun still flush against your chest, now grazing your nipple as you arched into him.
He pulled back only enough to speak into your mouth. "What's your safe word?"
"Mercy."
He hummed in response, fingers threading through your hair as he pushed the barrel of the gun down your stomach. You froze, a subtle gap forming between your lips as your eyes remained locked on the motion.
He brought his mouth to your ear, nipping at the skin lightly as he pushed the metal further down your body, lifting the hem of your shirt with it. You gasped at the feeling, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth as you tried to hide just how affected you were.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes." It was immediate. Without hesitation.
He kissed your lips, gentle and unhurried, as if he was savoring the sensation, like he thought I might crumble under too much pressure. He might be right.
"Take these off."
His gun pressed against the waistband of your shorts. You didn't waste a second, lifting your hips and shimmying out of the fabric. A sound of approval vibrated from his throat, his fingers entwining in your hair, gently drawing your face closer to his.
"Are you sure about this?"
A nod came naturally, followed by a yes breathed out like a prayer, as your eyes trailed down to in between your thighs where the gun was now sitting.
"Aaron, I need it."
"Oh, you need it, huh?" He tsked his tongue, running the nose of the gun over your clothed heat. "I can tell."
You let out a sharp gasp, bucking your hips into the device as you met his eyes, willing him to keep going. You had never been more turned on in your life. His hand moved from your neck to the small of your waist, pinning you in place. With one hand. Fuck.
He laid the gun beside your hip on the couch in order to pull your panties off. You squirmed at the rush of cold air encompassing between your thighs. His eyes were glued to your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe across his lips.
"Christ sweetheart," he hissed, sliding one finger through your slit, showing you the moisture you had produced. "Needy girl."
"Aaron, please." You needed something inside of you.
He laughed, at your expense, but you didn't care, concentrated on his hand grabbing the Glock and repeating the action his finger just did.
You choked out a sound, stuttering against the touch. He in a merciful mood apparently, pushing the gun slowly into your sopping cunt. You were writhing against it, your mouth parted as you tried to get used to the foreign object.
"You okay?" He asked, pausing his motions, giving you a second to adjust.
You swallowed; gaze drawn down to where he was sliding the gun into you. You bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Yes."
"You can take it," he said, but the way the firearm was stretching you made you unsure.
It wasn't the size necessarily, but the way the groves and magazine were cramming into you was making hold your breath, which him being him he noticed immediately.
His hand rested gently against the pouch of your stomach. "Breathe."
The pent-up breath escaped your lips, and he rewarded you by sinking the gun further into your pussy. You fingers wrapped around his biceps, the tips digging slightly into the constellation of freckled skin.
One final thrust and it was fully in you. You could feel every groove and contour of it, cunt clenching and unclenching at the sensation.
"Look at you," he drawled, beginning to fuck you with it. It transcended the prose of any book, a sensation that no array of printed words could fully capture. "You like that?"
Nodding was your only recourse, mouth hanging pathetically open as you moaned and whined. You were in a daze-like state, every sound and motion involuntary.
"This is the Glock 17," he explained, thrusting the gun faster, causing you to tighten your hands around his neck, bringing him so close his words were melting into your skin. "It feeds from a staggered-column magazine that has a 17-round capacity. It sends 115 gr bullets downrange at about 1200 feet per second."
You could feel your arousal leaking to your thighs, coating his forearm in the process, but that would never stop him.
"This gun has taken the lives of nineteen unsubs."
You know this should make you coil away, that it should feel wrong somehow, but all you felt was that growing tightness in your core, your legs shaking, your chest rising and falling at a more rapid pace.
"You don't even care, do you? All you care about is getting yourself off." His chuckles wove through his words, and his motions didn't falter, intent of ushering you to your peak. "My dirty girl."
You were so close, the edges of the gun managing to hit every spot just right.
"Come on, honey."
Fuck. You let out another strangled gasp, way louder than intended as your back arched like a string of a bow, and then suddenly you released.
A prism of colors exploded behind your squeezed eyes. A collage of musical notes falling over your ears. Your whole body was being ignited as you gushed around the gun.
"Christ." His new favorite word as of late. He withdrew the weapon from you.
You let out a subdued hum, propping yourself on your elbows, your eyes lazily rising to meet his with a tender flutter.
"You're so pretty," he murmured, the compliment settling on you like dew on morning flowers. Your gaze caught the gun, now bathed in a liquid gloss, cradled in his hands.
"Oh my god," you said, hand covering your mouth.
He laughed softly, placing it on the coffee table before his lips brushed against yours, a soft and measured caress that belied his previous urgency.
"You might need a new one," you said sheepishly, heat creeping into your ears as he pressed another soft kiss to your cheek.
"Absolutely not," he murmured into your flushed skin. "It just became my gun of choice."
You were going to give him the best head of his life.
I just read ur Toto x Horners daughter and it’s so good, I’m defo rereading it
But can I request a part 2?
Where he actually catches them? Like she has to beg her father to not send her away and Toto has to promise that she’ll always be taken care of.
I can visualise Christian arguing “but he’s literally older than me and double your age if not more” (I googled it, Toto is 1 year older than Christian)
That’s it, I hope you know that you’re a great writer with even greater way of words .
Sending love❤️
Rumour has it 2 || T.W
Toto Wolff x Horner reader
Warnings— angst, age gap, arguments, happy ending, Toto making Christian want to khs, not proofread
Part 1
Summary: Christian founds out the rumours are actually true and is the opposite of happy, he has plans to send her away far away from his enemy.
“ your so beautiful..” Toto awes at you as you to walk the hall together at the hotel in Vegas, you swing your connected hands making him smile softly at your actions and your rosy cheeks from his compliment.
You push him slightly for making you blush like he always does yet all he did was smirk, “ what? You are beautiful. My beautiful little girl aren’t you?” He mused making you whine as your hands come up to hide your deep red cheeks.
“ Toto..” you whined as he chuckled deeply pulling you into him.
“ sorry darling, c’mere” his hand grabs the back of your head firmly pulling you to him as he locks his lips with your soft pouty ones, he moans at the taste of your signature vanilla lip balm.
The taste of each others lips seems to make you both forget your in a public setting where anyone can see you and unfortunately someone does. The worst person to ever catch you locking lips with Toto fucking Wolff.
“ what the actual fuck?!” You jump away from Toto like you have been shot hearing your fathers enraged voice bellow, echoing against the hotel walls.
Your eyes widen seeing your father staring at you two in complete fury so much that his face was turning red. “ d-dad” you unsurely called, you felt like you where about to pass out from the saddened fear and anxiety, jealous of how calm and collected Toto was yet you elbowed him seeing a small smirk quirking on the corner of his lips.
“ you fucking cunt! So it’s true? You fucking my daughter like a whore” Christian furiously said as Toto face dropped while you nervously twiddled your thumbs, heart heavy.
“ you just have to take my daughter away from me you bastard” Christian fumed again looking like he was about to charge at Toto.
“ your daughter means the world to me Christian, she’s not just some girl I’m using then gonna throw away like trash” Toto calmly spoked yet Christian scoffed, “ yeah right, yn come here right now” he demanded, you walk to him feebly with your head now embarrassed as Toto watched you sadly, Christian is going to make this impossible for you two, he just knows.
Christan firmly grabs your upper arm dragging you away making Toto clench his hands, Christan turns back to him, “ stay the hell away from my daughter Toto, or I swear…” he silently threatened making Toto scoff. Like that’s gonna scare him, yet as much as his heart aches at the mere thought, he is going to obey as he doesn’t want you in anymore trouble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ y-you can’t d-do that!” You cried out as you father stoic as ever told you how your going to live in London with your aunt, you knew why. He wants you far away from the paddock, far away from Toto.
Christian scoffed, “ I sure can your my daughter, besides what were you thinking! He’s older than me yn! Way older than you. For all you knew he could be using you to get to me”. You shook your head in denial he wouldn’t do that…….. your toto wouldn’t do that, not that you think.
“ he wouldn’t, h-he loves me” your voice cracked as the tears wouldn’t stop falling from your eyes, it hurt Christian. Of course it did, to see his daughter like this but she shouldn’t of gotten mixed with toto.
‘ all you could know yn is that it was a lie” Christian told you, “ now go and back your stuff, your leaving tomorrow night”.
You stared at him, eye sight blurry from your tears as you got up and before you left to your room, “ why can’t you see he makes me happy..” you whispered mostly to yourself yet he heard you and closed his eyes in frustration.
He drops himself on the sofa as Geri comes to sit next to him after being in her room, having heard everything. “ your making the wrong decision by sending her away, haven’t you notice how happy she has been lately, smiling and now we know why”.
Christian scoffed but stayed silent as Geri continued, “ I know you deep now know how much he loves her, for godsake they made each other happy, don’t you want your daughter happy?”.
“ of course I do” Christian glared at his wife but she didn’t back down, “ then why are you sending her away? She’s happy Christian, he makes her happy. You say you care about her happiness but your taking it away from her, I think deep down you know this but are scared that your gonnna loose her”.
He groaned as his hands go to his hair gripping it, “ he does make her happy doesn’t he?” Christan sighed as geri smiled slightly, “ he does, you saw how happy she was in his presence”.
“ yes with his tongue down her throat” Christan scoffed making Geri hit his arm. Christian Suddenly got up and walked to the door, “ where you going?” Geri asked him curiously.
“ to threaten Toto if he hurts my daughter his dead, tell yn to stop packing she’s not going” he told her before going out of the door not hearing Geri squeal as she ran to her daughters room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“…….. I still hate you but I know you make my little girl happy. That’s all I want but I swear to god if you do anything to make her upset, I’ll get max and checo to run you over. And no making out in my presence!” Christan finished his rant as Toto looked at him surprised.
“ really?” He couldn’t help but utter making Christian roll his eyes, “ are you deaf yes, I know you wouldn’t of stay away from her anyway”.
Before Toto could say anything back Christan took off yet he turned around last minute, “ she’s always gonna be a redbull for her whole life so don’t you even dare trie to get her to wear pesky mecerdes merch” he than left, he needs a strong glass of scotch or two… maybe the whole bottle.
genre: age gap, porn with plot, angst, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature, mentions of homicide, bits of humor, child neglection, divorced!toto
word count: 16.5k
Toto Wolff, self-made billionaire, is on cloud nine; he has all he’s ever wanted. A beautiful wife, family, a great team. But when that starts slipping from his fingers, he desperately tries to keep hold of what is not his anymore. As a possible solution to cure his blues, Lewis kindly invites him to a place he runs off to when times get tough; to relieve some stress. But he just never expected a cosplaying angel, dancing around a metal pole, to be his salvation. And also, his cruelest life lesson.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+…dry humping/ thigh riding, sexual tension, penetrative sex, oral sex (m!receiving f!receiving), size kink, breeding kink, praise, foreplay, riding
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
Typically, we keep it light here: occasional minor angst fics, but light, nonetheless. That will not be the case this time around. Because of that, I firmly believe that it is necessary to give a few warnings. There will be mentions of drug-use and homicide and if that is not something you are comfortable with then that is totally okay! I have more options for you to read over at my masterlist! This is purely fictional. With that, this story is based and inspired by Million Dollar Man and Yayo by Lana Del Rey (*run*)—what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending.
cherry here!…toto is like—a special appearance, here in this blog. probably won’t write for him all the time, but hey! we love him!originally this was going to be named yayo but have since changed my mind to million dollar man. IT WILL MAKE SENSE AND I’M SORRY, ANONS. please don’t hate the villain in me. consider yourself warned.
There was no room for love when it came to the world of motorsport. Toto’s first marriage was a transparent reminder, given its falling out. The Austrian didn’t seem to care, almost; Mercedes was at their prime, but by then, when Susie came along, he felt a gist of hope. She must’ve known the sacrifices that would be made—the expectations.
And yet, he sat there, signing the divorce papers once again. What had he done wrong this time? He had given her everything she could have ever wanted—spent time he didn’t even have—with her.
Neither of us were happy anymore, she would whisper apologetically, eyes trained downwards. But I’ll always love you, Toto. You must remember that.
Suddenly, he was fifty-two and with no true purpose in life other than to stabilize his broken team. If it wasn’t false accusations from other team principals, then it was trouble with the hydraulics, and if it wasn’t that, then it was losing his World Champion. Mercedes was already dwindling down to a mess, but with Lewis leaving—it felt like he was losing his mind.
“You understand where I’m coming from, right, Toto?”
Looking up at Lewis and Penni, his manager, the Austrian sighs, forcing a tired smile. No. He didn’t understand—did not want to understand. But he had no right to prevent the Brit from expanding one final time before retirement. I just feel like I need to do this for myself, but thank you for the infinite support. Mercedes will always be home to me.
Promises. Fuck them, they meant nothing at the end of the day, so why bother?
“Do what you need to do. I’ll always be here for you; no matter what.”
It was a bittersweet feeling to have. On one hand, the brunette felt optimistic. Maybe this was a chance to start over, perhaps offer up the golden seat to Carlos or Kimi. They had proven themselves in their own way and maybe that could bring better opportunities towards the team.
On the other, he felt like this was it. Maybe it was time to move on, retire with a sorrowful smile and live out the rest of his years. He could try fixing things with Susie. The thing was, he just re-signed as team principal, so none of that would work out even if he wanted to.
Running a large hand through his brown hair, he groans and takes a sip of whiskey. Wincing at the taste, he jumps up in alert from his seat when there’s a knock on the glass door. May I? He nods.
Entering with an easy smile, Lewis raises his dark brows in a teasing manner. “Drinking ain’t gonna help, I promise you that.”
The brown eyed man grins. “You have something else in mind, cause if so, I’d like to hear it.”
The Brit hums, tilts his head to the side. Lewis had been with Toto for as long as he can remember; he was there when Toto and Susie met, and long after when they tied the knot. He swore they were happy, and that may have been once true, but he also knows sometimes even that can’t be enough. So, when news came out to their inner circle that the two were getting divorced, he felt sorry for him. He knows what it feels like to have it all, to suddenly go to sleep alone every night. But there was always one place that always helped— even people like him.
“You up for Vegas?”
-
He should have said no. He was too old for any of this nonsense. Too mature. Only, one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was entering one of the top-tier stripclubs in all of Las Vegas. He knows that while there is nothing wrong with the profession, he can’t help but feel sinisterly dirty. He blames it on the fact that Lewis was beaming right besides him. Maybe if he hadn’t once been his boss, then the feeling would be different.
“Oh, c’mon. Ease up. No one will even know that you were in here.”
It’s true. While the club was a part of the infamous Vegas strip, it was also exclusively exclusive. No one could get in if there was no form of proving to be millionaires, and even that was ridiculously low. NDA’s would be signed as if it were something normal. Made him wonder what kind of things occurred between these four walls.
Toto chuckles deeply, dark eyes roaming the entire room, loud music blaring. “How did you even know this place exists?”
Lewis winks, lousy arm waving at the bouncers. “You know how everyone thinks Formula One drivers are players and are up to no good?”
“Yeah?”
He smirks. “Well…they’re fucking right.”
After a couple of drinks, a few new friends—who would make great potential business partners—and a bit of gambling, the fifty-two year old found himself having a decent time. The atmosphere was a tad bit suffocating, but one time won’t kill him. He deserved it.
“Oh, oh, you might want to take a seat,” Lewis chants excitedly. “People get pissed if you block their view.”
Abruptly, the stage lights up. It was a bit alarming, the sudden speed these men took to claim their seats, trampling over each other to get front row. Carefully, he crouches down onto the couch of giddy men. This wasn’t a normal setting; girls were caged behind glass as if to protect them from these males and their slithering actions. A red head professionally swings around the steel pole, black skirt flowing, adding to the illusion men love to taste.
Whoops and hollers echo the red room as the Brit nudges Toto’s broad shoulder with a wicked grin. “Good, no? She’s my favorite.”
The Austrian scrunches his nose, half joking, half not. “Is this why you were always dozing off during our meetings?”
“Exactly why.”
It was an impressive art, he’ll give credit where credits due, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, but that’s about it. When he stood up to go and order a new drink, a string of boos were thrown at him. Even Lewis shook his head with disapproval. Man, you’re missing the show! He sends a sly grin. “I’m tough to win over, but they’re great, don’t get me wrong.”
The bartender shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s what they all say. Until they lay eyes… on her.”
“On who?” He’s quickly hushed as soon as the room changes gears. The once red club enhances into a soft yellow glow, the fast paced music slows down to an angelic piano intro.
A round of applause for everyone’s favorite girl—Peaches!
If the fifty-two year old ever thought he’s heard it all; loud cheers from fans, loud cheers for the other dancers; then he must have been mistaken, and awfully foolish. His ears ring with the sudden howls from everyone in the room. Turning around, he’s found with a girl, standing with golden angel wings. A shiny reflection colors her hair as she delicately bows, shy smile sewn onto her pouty lips. White dress wrapped around her figure as if it was tailored for her, and only her.
Yayo.
The way she pranced inside the glass box like a butterfly makes the men grow wild as they pant feverishly. She’s barely doing anything—hasn't even done half as much as what the other girls had done—and somehow, all eyes are drawn on her like a sticky potion. Toto’s heartbeat gets stuck in his throat as he tries his best to swallow it down. Sad eyes flicker throughout the club as she spins, dress fluttering like a flower in the summer breeze.
You’re someone desirable in all senses, and it appears as if you know it as well.
Let me put on a show for you, daddy.
Dropping down to your knees, you crawl towards the glass as you draw your soft brows together, as if pleading to be let out. Hot breath paints the glass before you press a kiss.
Then, you’re looking at him, and it’s as if you could point out all the fucked up shit he’s ever done. His heart speeds up as you tie your shiny legs along the pole, sensually spinning as you throw your head back. Like a signal, water sprinkles inside the box as it lubricates you down, dark mascara trickling your features.
Arms toss your hair back before sharing a quick wave as you step out, red lights turning back on. And just like that, Toto is left empty and alone once again.
“That shit was insane,” the Brits voice shakes him away from your spell as he flops down on the stool right next to him. “She must be new because I for sure wouldn’t have forgotten a pretty face like hers. What’d you think?”
Toto blinks. “She might be my favorite.”
-
Thank you, Ro, you say as you sign on the bottom x, waving him off as he tilts his head in agreement. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be outside, like always.
Even after all this time, you still got trepidatious. There came times where the connection was completely off, that you just wanted to bolt away, screaming like a baby. But you needed this job to survive, plus, it paid a pretty penny.
“Where do you want me?”
Once you spot the massive businessman, manspreading on the couch that he made out to look like a toy, you gulp. You had caught a glimpse of him already, basically performed for him, but you didn’t think he was the one who called for you.
He’s strikingly handsome in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend. Dark, untamed hair covers his face. Long nose catches your attention as you squirm. His hands are practically the size of your face and you could only imagine what his thick fingers must feel like. Curiously, your eyes dwindle down to his lap as you picture what rests between his legs.
“Oh, right. Um…”
You grin. “First time?”
He winces. “It was a friend's idea.”
“Hmph. Heard that one before.” Inching closer, you pour a glass of water. “Here. It’ll help.”
His hand swallows you whole as you gape down at the difference. Electricity zaps you as you flinch and he catches on. Bringing the cup towards his pink lips, he closes his eyes, lashes fanning his tan skin. Being taken care of by a beautiful, young lady, made him cringe in all kinds of ways. He felt like a child, then like an old man. To be fair, he sort of was.
“I’m not here for…you know.” You quirk a neat brow. You don’t want to fuck me? Your question has him choking on the ice as he raises his hand up. “N-no, I just th—”
“I’m afraid you’re just wasting my time, and time is money. Have a good day, Mr. Wolff.”
Gaining his composure, Toto storms over to you, grabbing your hand. “I’ll still pay you. Triple what you make, but please don’t go.”
Your cheeks are dusted light pink when you turn around, wings brushing against him. If you’re lucky, you reach his toned chest, but the height difference was scary. Enticing. You almost wish he would fuck you like a pornstar.
“You know what a girl wants to hear. I’m in.”
Turns out, he just wanted a companion. Someone who wouldn’t pity him. Didn’t hurt that you were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, either. Narrowing your eyes, you click your tongue. “She said that?”
He sighs. “Maybe I was changing.”
“Perhaps, but that’s what a marriage is for. You change, sure, but you change together. Things can’t possibly stay that same, that’s just stupid.” Tucking your legs beneath your butt, you continue. “And what? Your number one driver decides to leave out of the blue? Even after it was mutually decided that he would stick around at least until 2026?”
That was something no one knew, but who were you going to tell? Toto grimaces. “It sounds bad, doesn’t it?”
“It fucking sucks.”
The Austrian chuckles deeply at your outburst. You blush at the cunning sound. “You’re a terrific listener. I’m glad you stuck around to talk.”
“I’m glad I did, too.” You play with the hem of your dress. “You’re a kind man, Toto. You didn’t deserve any of this.”
-
He slips away that night with a tranquility he hasn’t felt in quite a while. On the way back to Monaco, he wonders if you were some kind of guardian that he had to meet in order to move on from his bittersweet feelings. Because it sure did feel like it since he felt he now knew what it is that he had to do in the upcoming season. All thanks to you.
“…Toto….Hello?” Bono smacks his hand against the table and the Austrian flinches. They were in the talks of what position he would stay in now that Lewis was departing from his life-long engineer. “Do you want me to continue or?”
The brunette clears his throat, awkwardly. “We have a few weeks of break before the new season begins, correct?”
“Correct.”
He stands up to his full height. “Then let’s talk later. Enjoy your break, Bono. See you soon.” Then he’s walking out the sliding doors, with a dumbfounded engineer piercing his eyes at his large back.
Elizabeth, Toto’s rough voice speaks to his personal assistant. Clear my schedule for the next few weeks. Oh, and also; get me the first flight out to Las Vegas.
-
Cursing at the dusty wind, you huddle your way into your beat up car, fingers sliding your Dior glasses down the bridge of your nose. They were a gift from a recent client, and you never shamed them away. Taking a sip of your sparkling water, you sigh in relief at the refreshing taste. Screw Nevada for being annoyingly hot.
Tap tap.
Squinting your eyes at your window, you only catch a glimpse of a man’s clothed crotch as you yelp. Swinging the door open, you take out your pepper spray. “Go away creep, I will use this if necessary!”
"Warten! Warten!"
“Huh?”
“I said wait,” a thick accent clarifies. You bite back a smile. “Hello.”
Bringing your hands up to your hips, you giggle. “Hello, Mr. Wolff. Back for more?”
He can try and pretend that he was better than crawling back to you, even if all you both did was have a meaningful conversation, but he doesn’t have time for lies.
“I just wanted to thank you.” Your lips separate, slowly. “For everything. You helped me figure out lots of things.”
“Oh, wow… I, umm… You’re welcome?”
Intaking your soft aura, he closes his right eye due to the bright sun. “Can I take you out for coffee?”
-
You didn’t go out for coffee at a local cafe, but rather at his mansion he just blew his money on without batting an eye. Inhaling the yummy scent, you swoon. “This smells amazing.”
He smiles. “It’s from Germany.”
“Authentic. How’d you get it?”
“Don’t underestimate power.” Your eyes grow wide at his cold tone and the Austrian laughs. “Relax. I’m from Germany. It’s my favorite, so I always carry one with me. Call me old-fashioned.”
“Let’s just leave it at old.”
He flashes a devious grin, lines tracing his face. “Ha-ha. But seriously, thank you for helping me out of my little…crisis.” Midlife crisis, you correct him as he glares. You snicker.
“I’m glad I was able to help.”
“Can I ask you something?” Sure, you cheer as you sip on the hot drink. He fixes his glasses. “How did you end up working at Machiavellian Nights?” Your stomach drops. “You don’t have to answer.”
“No.” He nods. “I’ll tell you, because oddly enough, I trust you.” Okay, he whispers. “Are you close to your parents?”
“What?” Are you? He nods again. You smile sadly.
“That’s lovely, Toto. Appreciate that.” You release a shaky breath. “My father passed away when I was fifteen and my mother pretends to not know me.”
He gulps and you continue. “It was not always like that, though. We had a close relationship. She would braid my hair every night before bed. I would curl hers before every date. She was an amazing woman. One I could admire.”
“What happened?”
You lower your head, lips wobbling. Letting out a wet laugh, you brush a hand up against your nose. “Men are deceiving. Men are shit. Men are a complete waste of time and— I miss who my mom used to be.”
Handing you a napkin, you silently thank him. “She met him when I was only seventeen. It was fine at first; I was so happy for her. I would be moving out for college eventually, so I felt relieved that she had someone to rely on. Connor was great.”
The fifty-two year old is momentarily lost. Nothing sounds as bad as it seems, but he refrains from telling you so. “Then she got pregnant. Oh, Toto, I was so excited. A baby sister. Could you imagine? I bought everything my first job could afford. Onesies, blankies, pampers, I bought it all. And I never once expected anything in return.”
“That’s where things began to change. Connor swore I was trying to win my mom over and leave Rosie with nothing. Kicked me out before I even had a chance to defend myself. I thought —okay, I’ll just talk to her and explain that it was never my intention to do any of that. But she wouldn’t listen. She gave birth six months ago.”
“And you ended up...” You hum, bringing the mug up to your lips.
“It was either that or fast food. Salary is shit in that industry. And the customers aren’t bad. I could say yes or no at any given time.”
The brunette fiddled with his watch. “So, you could have turned me away?” Laughing, you nod. He fakes a smug look. “And why didn’t you?”
Tapping a lazy finger onto your chin, you close your eyes before fluttering them open. “I had a feeling you had shit locked away. Just like me.”
-
He bids you farewell, claiming he was glad to have met you, even with such circumstances. The way he hugs you goodbye makes the pit of your stomach fuel with fire as you brush away the urge to climb onto him and kiss his pain away, even if he promises to not feel any.
Take care of yourself, you beg, head resting beneath his heart. His breath hitches. You need to look after yourself, above all. Oh. And good luck with the new season.
He wonders why such a pretty plea makes his heart break. Perhaps it was because even though your life was at rock bottom, you still looked out for others. Or maybe it was him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it at all. He wouldn’t try either because as stated before, he was leaving for good. He could make room to visit you the next time he was here for the Las Vegas GP. Even then, he wouldn’t risk you like that.
But like a kid at a candy shop, he finds himself signing the NDA once again. Welcome back, Mr. Wolff. The usual? “That sounds great, thank you.” Taking a seat, he watches the vivid room, hoping to spot you. Set after set, he’s torn when you don’t show up. Others seem to notice you missing as they violently spit slurs of; Bring out the pretty one!
“Would you be kind enough to treat me to a sweet drink? Paloma’s are my favorite.”
Your sultry voice salutes him like a perfect hug as he looks down to where you bite down onto the inside of your cheek. Your eyes crinkle as you beam up at him. “You’re here…”
“I always am.”
He cringes, desperation humbling him as you take a seat. “Your act…you didn’t go on and I just thought you were out sick or something?” Leaning over to take a sip of his dark drink, loopy eyes train on him before sighing.
“Ugh, I wish. I’m on my period. I asked for the night off, but I’m still up to no good. Make a little bit of money, eh.” He clenches his jaw. “What are you doing here anyways, Toto? Oh shit—Mr. Wolff.” Smiling warmly at the bartender, you hug your red lips around the glass.
“I wanted to see you.”
Choking on the fruity drink, you clutch onto his thigh. He stiffens, but still pats your exposed back. You wore a silky red dress, just like the rest of the girls strutting through the busy club, but somehow, it looked better on you. Enhancing your soft features, tugging against your curves like an envelope. Perky tits begging to be licked— sucked on.
“Why?”
“I…I don’t know.” You frown. “I have no idea, but you’ve lingered on my mind from the moment I saw you, dancing sadly. Why was that?”
You purse your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He huffs. “Think a little bit harder, then.” His firm tone makes you sit up straight, drawing circles on his lap, as a tactic to not pull your strong gaze away. You don’t even notice his hard cock pushing up against the denim.
“I had just received a restraining order against Rosie.” He deflates. “I’ve never even met my newborn sister and they got a fucking restraining order.” You scoff. “Unbelievable.”
Toto was lucky enough to be a part of his kids' lives, but simply picturing the idea of Stephanie or Susie getting a restraining order against him, crushed him. Seeing you so upset about it makes him want to track down your mother and Connor and yell at them for how they’ve treated you. But then he would probably find himself with a similar piece of paper.
“Just when I think they’ve done it all, there always seems to be more.” You laugh, taking another sip of your cold drink. “They’re getting clever.”
“How are you so okay with any of this?”
You narrow your eyes, offended by his question. “You think I am? Toto, I feel like the odd one out. My own mother makes me feel like a culprit for simply wanting to give my baby sister a pair of shoes.” The brunette furrows his brows. You giggle. “I got Rosie a pair of ballet shoes. They’re the cutest thing you’ll ever see.”
His lips quirk upwards. “So, you’ve tried to meet her?” You shake your head, hair whiplashing. I called my mom, brought up the idea. I guess she didn’t like it because next thing I knew, hello, restraining order. It’s sick. “They don’t deserve you.”
Your mouth stays agape as you blink back at him, doe eyes ringing him in. “I’m done trying. I get tired too, y’know?” Edging closer to your seat, you cup your hands against his ear, getting a whiff of his musky, expensive scent. You almost let out a moan. “You have kids, right? Were they cute when they were babies?”
He nods, enthusiastically. “They’re heaven sent.” Your eyes twinkle, and he feels bad for a split second. “Want to see?” He dangles his phone towards you as you beam. Do you mind? “Not at all. As a father, you must know, I like to brag about them.” Rolling your eyes, you swipe through his gallery as you coo.
“Oh my goodness! She looks just like you,” you point out when you spot a blond girl. He grins. That’s Rosa. Flickering your eyes up to him, you gasp. “Rosie.”
“Huh? Similar…that’s funny.”
Your grin widens. “Oh, handsome. Just like his father.” Benedict, he informs you as he blushes at the comment. Swiping once more, you tilt your head. “Very cute—like insanely adorable—but he doesn’t resemble you at all.” He laughs, throwing his head back.
“That’s my youngest, Jack. He looks just like his mother.” He retrieves the phone from you before handing it back. Squinting, you analyze the older blond. “Identical. It’s almost as if you didn’t partake in the game, Mr. Wolff.”
“Oh, trust me, I did.”
Burning up, you rip your gaze away from the device, trying to erase your filthy thoughts. Especially of him and his ex-wife. “She seems nice. Beautiful, too.” He hums, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“I can tell you have a soft spot for kids.”
“I don’t want to scare you off, but it’s an obsession. I can’t wait to be a mommy.” He swallows a groan at your innocent wish. “I would try to be the best; I just know I would.”
The Austrian rubs his arm. “It’s getting late. Are you still going to be around?”
You yawn. “I think I’m out of here, too.”
“Can I take you home?”
The sexual tension is as thick as thieves. It suffocates you whole as you stare out the window of his Mercedes Benz. His digits taps against the leather wheel, legs barely fitting from how massive he is. Head almost touching the roof of his car. I swear I’ll go back to school, God, but please help me keep the last bits of my dignity.
“How tall are you?” Come again? You gulp. “What’s your height? Curious, that’s all.”
His head rolls back, Adam’s Apple jumping up and down. “Meters or in feet?” You bite down on your tongue. Smart-ass.
“Feet, if it’s okay with you,” you reply sarcastically. He clicks his tongue in amusement.
“6’5.”
“Oh my God.” You smile sheepishly when he frowns. “You’re huge.”
“They normally say that after I have sex with them, but thank you.”
Heat rushes to your cheekbones and the tip of your ears. “You know what I meant.”
“Oh, of course, my mistake.” Pulling into your small driveway, he blinks slowly. “You live here?”
“Yes, don’t drool over it, please,” you growl at his rude tone. His brown eyes spin towards you when you hurriedly grab your things. He grabs the back of your dress quickly and you freeze.
“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s lovely, but I just thought…you said you made good money?”
High heels crunch against small pebbles as you scowl at the fifty-two year old. “I want to go back to Uni and I’m saving up, is that so wrong?” He’s embarrassed now, fixated on the empty passenger seat. You scoff. “Glad we agree. Good night, dickhead.”
Toto lets out a quiet laugh. Your eye twitches at the sound. Marching over to his window, you click your fingers as he rolls it down. This is funny to you? “Not at all. You acting like a child is.”
“I am not acting like a child—”
“Oh, you’re not? Fuck. Again, my mistake.” Grinding your molars, you glare at the brunette. He aims for a soft smile. “I wasn’t making fun of your living arrangements, please, do you really think that low of me?” You look away, wiggling your neat brows. “Come and live with me.”
“Excuse me?”
He climbs out of the car, making you stumble back. “In the meantime, while I’m here, which is not for long. When I leave, you can keep the house.”
You grow light headed from his delirious offer. “Are you asking me to have sex with you in return for a new home?” His jaw drops.
“No, I’m being a good friend. You’re a sweet girl who has dealt with some shitty people and I want to help. Please, accept.” His voice is soft but somehow demanding. As if he already knows you’re going to agree.
Inching closer, you poke his chest. He raises his arms. “Are you real?” Super real, he states, rolling his chocolate eyes. What do you say?
“But my things—”
“I’ll send for them.”
“My downpayment—”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Cool!” you cheer. “Let me just go grab my boyfriend.” His smile falls. Letting out an evil laugh, you clutch onto your stomach. “Ha! You should have seen your face.”
He pinches your forearm and you yelp in surprise. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Too late,” you yodel as you skip around, back into the black Mercedes. “You’re going to regret it anyways.”
-
We still have to talk about the preparations required for the unveiling of the W15. Please tell me you haven’t forgotten?
Massaging his temples, Toto grimaces. “I haven't, but also, we don’t have to. It’s all ready to go; George and Lewis just need to show up.”
Elizabeth gasps. “And you.”
“Elizabeth, that was implied.” The assistant hums sheepishly as she continues talking his ear off. He groans. “I’ll be there, don’t worry. You’re doing a great job, keep it up. And please, enjoy your break. You’re going to wish you had when the season starts.”
“Of course. Take care, Toto.”
Once they hang up, he picks up on reading through articles about everything and anything people have been saying about Lewis’ new contract with Ferrari. He was happy for his driver, but it still stung.
“You look tired.”
Chocolate eyes direct over to you where you stand with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties. At least he hopes. “Oh, y’know. Catching up on work. Can’t be gone for too long, if not things get out of control.”
Rolling your eyes sarcastically, you slide your way closer to him. “Can I see?”
“See what?”
Squinting at the screen, your eyes glimmer brightly. “I love all things gossip. It’s my guilty pleasure.” Taking a seat on his thick lap, your delicate fingers start playing with the keypad. He grunts, placing both hands behind his head as his jaw ticks. “Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton: The Unstoppable Duo.” You giggle. “He’s cute. Take it back, they both are.”
He lets out a strained chuckle. “You’re evil.”
Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you shrug. It looks so soft, he’s itching to run his fingers through it. “I see why you’re upset about this whole—‘I want Lewis! No, I want Lewis!—thing.” His smile falters. “It’s brutal.”
Hauling you off of his lap, he places you on the chair next to him, hoping you wouldn’t notice his hard print. “Is it?”
“Mhmm,” you chirp, chin propped onto your knees. “You must not mind people talking about you.”
“I do mind. I mind a lot.”
Perplexed, you take in his exhausted state. You never wanted to be famous, and seeing him live like this made you realize you had made the right choice. With slight hesitance, you brush his hair back; he sighs in relief. “It’s good to take breaks in between. That way you don’t have a stroke, old man.” His eyes fly open.
“Just because you’re younger, that doesn't mean I’m about to drop dead, sweetheart.” You squirm, forcing his orbs back closed as he squirms at the clumsy action.
“Wanna feel something nice?”
Toto’s mind wanders to a steamy place once you leap off your chair. His chest heaves up and down from nervousness, hearing your soft steps. Straddling him, you press a soft kiss onto his cheek. Relax, Toto. He nods, grips onto the sides of the wooden chair, knuckles turning ghost white. Digging your hands into his broad shoulder, you begin to massage him at a steady pace. He moans. “How are you so good at this?” Your lips curl.
“I like to think I was a masseuse in my past life, now shhh.”
The brunette’s main focus was between two things; actually letting loose and enjoying the much needed massage and the urge to slide your panties to the side and fuck you senselessly. Both were pretty good ideas in his book.
“Stop grunting,” you whisper in the nook of his ear as he shudders. You bite down on your pouty lip, leaning all the way back, and his hands instinctively reach out to catch you. His brown eyes flutter open as he admires the way you tower over him, even as you lay back, but also the way your fingers push adamantly against the knots in his shoulders. He growls animalistically. “What did I say, Mr. Wolff?”
Cold stare. “What am I supposed to do, then?”
Grabbing his large hands, you place them over your hips, an inviting smile dancing across your pink lips. Squeeze if you have to. He almost comes inside his pants as you lick your lips once more before continuing your actions. And it almost seems like you want to get a rise out of him. To make him groan, moan, grunt, cry out— for you.
Purposefully, you dig your knuckles extra hard before pinching down with your nails. He hisses, grasping your sides hard as he throws his head back, floppy hair hitting the chair. You force a whimper away as you feverishly grind against his crotch. That kind of hurt, Toto.
“Fuck…I’m sorry,” he spills out as he starts a massage of his own. You smirk, repeating the same painful actions, pushing him to do the same as before. This was no longer a peaceful massage, you both knew that. It really hurts, you whine as you place a small hand against his chest, hips moving feverishly against his rough pants. The burning sensation makes you let out a pathetic wail as you rest your head against his shoulder. “A-are you okay?”
Then, you press your forehead against his; lustful gaze challenging him while tears cover up your pretty eyes, making them shimmer even more than before. “Never been better.” With one last rub against his slacks, you’re climaxing as you plow your red nails onto him.
Gasping for air, you return to tracing soft circles against his wide shoulders as he’s left dazed and confused. His cock still hurts from how hard he is, but you don’t seem to notice. Or you ignore it. It doesn't matter, because you’re already jumping off him, lips bruised from how hard you had bit down.
“I thought your hands would hurt a lot less, Toto. You ought to be nice to me.”
Then, you’re skipping away, back into your room like a shy rabbit.
-
After the encounter in the dining room, you pranced around as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing had. Toto’s mind was probably playing tricks on him because there was no way you could act so nonchalant, hallowing your lips around the cherry popsicle. Is it red? You stick your salivating tongue towards him.
“That’s a dumb question.”
You frown. “Grump.” A beat. “Can I take the Mercedes on a spin?”
“No.”
The frown grows deeper. “Why not? I swear I won’t scratch it. In fact, I won’t let anything happen.”
“Tempting, but still no.”
“Fine,” you grumble, munching down on the icy treat. He smiles, fingers typing against his computer. Can I ride you? His digits freeze midair as he flickers his brown eyes over at you. Holding the car keys directly to your face, you hum playfully. Yeah. Why not, Peaches? Just take care of me! “Of course, my sweet Benz. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“You are worse than my four year old.” He inhales sharply, rolling up his sleeves as he tries to ease his crazy heartbeat with water. You giggle.
“He said yes.”
“The car talks now?”
You blush. “That’s what I’m sayinggg…”
Analyzing the strand of hair that hits your chin, he folds his hands. “How did you choose Peaches as your stage name?”
You swallow the last piece of your popsicle. “It’s not an interesting story. I have a co-worker who goes by Foxy because she once fucked a fucking grandpa in the woods and he died of a heart attack once he saw a fox. Pretty cool, huh?”
His jaw drops. “You’re crazy.” Shrugging, you kick your legs up on the armrest. He swallows. “But I still want to know. No matter how boring it may seem. I can guarantee you I won’t think the same, pessimist.”
Gingerly squinting your round eyes, your lips for a thin line. “When I was younger, my mom would bring me a peach everyday after work. That way, when she would pick me up from school, she would have it ready. The sweetest ones were during summer, of course, but the ones out of season were still pretty good. Up to this day, I still don’t know how she got her hands on those.” He nods. “Simple as that.”
“I think it’s sweet.” His long legs stretch out to kick your chair away. You squeal. “Makes you seem a tiny bit human.”
“Hey!”
He smirks. “Way better than Foxy. That story is just a murder case waiting to be taken to trial.”
“She did receive a handsome inheritance,” you whistle and his eyes grow wide. You snicker. “I’m kidding.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you enjoy your job? Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?” You shake your head.
“Wait, let me rephrase. I do enjoy pole dancing. So many outsiders assume we’re sluts, but it’s not like that. It’s an art, whether you believe it or not.” I agree. You grin. “I have fun, but no, I don’t want to do this forever. I want to be an elementary school teacher.”
“Really?”
You wince. “Seems inappropriate, I know, but I think I could be really good at it. I would cut them slices of sweet peaches any chance I get. I’ll even figure out where to buy some more once the season ends.” Scooting closer to the table, you flick your wooden stick onto his lap. He aims for a deadpan expression. “And I just want to make it clear that I do not sleep around. But when I do, it’s because I want to. I have needs too, Toto.”
The fifty-two year old grinds his teeth together. “I’m sure you do.”
-
Wobbling against the shiny tiles, you gasp before a warm hand saves you. You let out a breath of relief, turning to see Toto shaking his head in disapproval.
“This is why you should leave to work on time. Now you’re just a mess.” Glaring at him, you fix your rollers as you walk out onto the private driveway. You were excluded from the rest of society, but part of you liked that. “How are you even going to get there?”
Spinning around, you almost crash into his chest before you regain your composure, close proximity making you struggle to find the words. “Toto, I never told you this, but…I can fly.”
“I’m being serious.”
You shrug. “I’m going to take the bus. Go back to your precious emails.” As soon as you twiddle your finger, he scoffs.
“I would take you—”
“But you’re busy— it’s fine.”
“Can you stop talking?” Beady eyes narrow up at him as he continues. “But I can’t because I’m drowning with work…You can take the Mercedes.” Your eyes light up.
“Are you fucking with me?”
He wishes he was fucking you, but no. “You better treat it like your own.” You click your tongue. See, you shouldn’t have said that because now my alter ego just grew. He points accusingly and you scrunch your nose. I promise. Handing you his keys, he watches carefully as you pull away, blowing him a kiss.
A few hours pass by before he feels the need to check up on you. He tries texting first. Busy night? Nothing. He tries calling. Nothing. He starts thinking you might've crashed on your way there, so he hurries out the door.
Paying the taxi driver, he marches past the doors as he is handed a piece of paper. He smiles back politely. “Don’t you guys think we’re past this?” The men take a quick glance at each other before nodding. Have a lovely night, Mr. Wolff.
Loud music makes the brunette wince, face twisting uncomfortably. Brown eyes study the club as he tries to decipher where you could possibly be. Maybe you didn’t make it and he was right after all. Jogging over to the bartender, Toto pants. “Peaches? Have you seen her?”
The young man points to the glass box, where you start your set. He sighs in relief as he takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves as he admires. Everyone cheers as you smile erotically. The Austrian can’t help but be one of them too.
Spotting him, you freeze. You narrow your eyes for a split second before you snap out of it, continuing your desirable movements. The music ends and just like that, you’re done. Hollering echoes the room when you brush past by.
“What are you doing here?”
A cheesy grin plays out. “I came to see you.” Weren’t you busy with work? He shakes his head. “Well, yes actually, but I thought you were dead in a ditch when you didn’t reply to my message or answer any of my calls.”
“Why could that be? Oh. Maybe because I’m working,” you hiss. “Listen, if you’re here as a client— fine. But if you’re here as Toto— leave.”
He narrows his eyes sharply and your breath hitches. “It’s Mr. Wolff, darling.”
You purse your lips. “Very well, Mr. Wolff.” Strutting away, you make sure you sway your hips. The brunette groans, falling back against his chair.
The night flies by as usual, until they book you. “Mr. Straforx, sitting in the back booth,” Ro informs you as you suck on your bottom lip, listening attentively. “Interested?”
“Very.”
“Actually, I am too.”
The rich accent makes your stomach flip as you muster up a stern glare. Toto’s lips form a firm line as he stands as tall as a sequoia. Fuming, you shake your head, perfectly done hair slapping your face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wolff, but I already agreed to somebody else. But rest assured, if I have time left, then I will get to you.”
“Is money the issue here?”
Your jaw ticks, temples grinding together harshly. “You think that’s all I care about?”
He shrugs. “I could lie and say no, but who am I kidding? We all care about money.”
Flustered, you scoot closer to Ro, who stands amused with the entire interaction. “Ro, tell Mr. Straforx that I’ll be there in a minute, and make sure to apologize on my behalf.” The older man nods, tipping his head towards the Austrian as he strolls away. “What are you trying to do, Toto?”
His lips flip to a teasing smile. “Mr. Wolff.”
“Oh, don’t you dare pull that card on me.” Your face pinches up. “This is an important client, I can’t say no.”
“How much do you want in order for you to come with me instead of him?” Your berry lips separate. “Name a price. I’m a self-made billionaire, sweetheart—a couple of millions are nothing to me.”
“I could never ask for you to do that,” you whisper, timidly fiddling with your necklace. “Deal with it. You’re not my boyfriend.”
His nose flares at the cruel reminder. “I never claimed to be. I’m a client.” Pause. “Two million.”
You gasp. “Are you insane?”
“You’re right, that’s childsplay. How about five?” When you still don’t say anything, he grins devilishly as he places a large hand on the lower part of your back. “Ro! Yeah, tell Me. Straforx that she’s coming with me. I’ll give you a bonus, don’t worry.” Your friend nodded happily. Press the button if you need anything.
You roll your eyes, sourly. “Thank you, Ro. Thank you so much.” Pushing you into the private room, you yelp. “Let go of me!”
The brunette scoffs. “Calm down, I was barely even touching you.”
Shivering, you focus your attention on the luxurious drinking options. Half of these were probably worth what you make in a year, but the rich fed off of that. The brown eyed man hums. “Is that something you’re interested in?” You quirk a brow. A drink? He shakes his head. “Do you want me to touch you?”
You blink up at him swiftly, rubbing your thighs together. “You’re reading into it. I don’t.” Digging his large hands into his pockets, he clicks his tongue. Okay. Then ask me to leave. We can pretend none of this ever happened. A sad whine bubbles up your throat as you fear that he might actually walk out if you even dared to imply. “Just don’t be a jerk.”
A threatening chuckles booms past his lips as he serves himself a drink you can’t even pronounce. He takes a slow sip before he raises his glass up towards you. “You’re getting to me a bit more than I’d like to admit. I mean, you must know that, right?” Demented, you play with your dress.
Tonight, you were cosplaying a wide-eyed devil. There was nothing threatening about your appearance, not if you didn’t count your crimson red lips. Plump, round, tempting. Your black gartner drives him to complete insanity as you bite down on your bottom lip, nervously. Your red dress is too short for his liking, but only because others get to enjoy the sight of your heavenly legs. The ones he was drooling over to nuzzle his face in between. Then your horns tussle your hair messily as you pant. He hasn’t even touched you and you were already dripping.
“That’s not true, Mr. Wolff.” The grin widens..
“You can call me Toto when we’re alone, sweetheart.” You shiver, lowering your gaze. No, you were right. It has to stay professional in this setting. The brunette rolls his tongue before squinting his eyes at you, fine lines forming. The sight alone makes you melt. “You should have thought about that before you came all over my thigh.”
Shocked at his vulgar words, you bat your eyes, flustered by the reminder. You had done that. But you had the upper hand that day and that was long gone as he towered over you. Inching closer, he drops down to his knees, him still appearing taller even with the action. You squirm.
“You were not playing fair that day. How come you only got to finish, and I didn’t?” You were hurting me, you cry out like a child as he scoffs at your weak attempt. Tugging you closer to him by your smooth legs, he droops them over his wide shoulders. Oh God. Turning his head to the side, he presses warm kisses. Your skin burns with every single one. “You know that’s not true.” Then, he’s hiking your tiny dress up.
Toto is hit with instant lust as he spots the wet patch of arousal. You whine, legs shutting around him. Do something—anything—but please, touch me. The corner of his lips lift up as he bites onto your red undergarment, pulling it down. Oh, you sigh at the intimate vision. Once you’re on full display, he groans. Your pussy glistens back at him, begging to be stretched out. “You’re…”
Humming, you place your soft palm against his cheek. “Toto…”
Like a starved man, he dives in, lips sucking on your clit as you fly forward, eyes screwed shut. He eats you out as if this was his true calling in life, the way he pinches your hips when you rock yourself against his face. He’s enjoying every second, every drop, as you find pleasure with the way his tongue swirls inside of you, finding new places you didn't know existed. The brunette nips quickly as you gasp, then he strikes his tongue. Warm sensation settles inside of your stomach. T-toto, holy fuck, oh my God.
You can feel the way he grins against your pussy as he continues his handy work. Slurping your juices, his dark eyes find yours as you pant, light sweat fanning your face. His large hand presses your dress down, further adding to the friction as your tummy is pushed down as well. Wailing, you writher an embarrassing amount that would normally have you pouring out apologies if it weren’t for his strong gaze.
“Taste so sweet,” he chants, kitten licks taking place. Your head rolls back against the couch, hand clutching onto his hair as he grunts. “Open your eyes for me, schatzi.” But you’re too busy trying to make this moment last, ignoring his command. Pressing his nose against your small hole, you squeal and look down. A coy expression takes over as he pulls away and rubs his fingers against your puffy clit.
“You s-so fucking good at this,” you pant, chest rises up and down, horns sliding down a bit before he extends his long arm, pushing it back. Your chest tightens. “I know what you’re going to do…Go easy, please.”
Taunting circles edge you further as he bites the squishy part of his cheek. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to try and make your fingers fit.”
Your words come out menacing as you scrunch your eyebrows together, a worried look clear to the Austrian. Kissing the inside of your thigh, he nods. “You’re an extremely smart girl.” Another kiss. “I’ll go slow. You won’t even feel any discomfort, just pleasure.”
“Wait!”
Panic strikes his face as you disconnect his left hand from your breast. Bringing his hand up, you inspect the wedding band. Why are you still wearing this? He groans. “Publicity. No one knows yet. They won’t know for a while, so I can’t take it off until then.” You hum, then slide his ring finger into your mouth. You can taste yourself, long digits immediately hitting the back of your throat as you gag. “What are you—”
Then he feels it. Your soft tongue and the way it lubricated the steel before you gently bit down and started pulling his hand back. His cock grows more pained from how hard he’s become. With a pop you smile, eyes crinkling as you show off the metal. “Better.”
“You’re…” I know, you seductively whisper as you return his hand to where it laid. Is that not what you like about me? The man practically growls as he slams two thick fingers inside of you. Your body jolts as you cry out. So good, Toto. His cock twitches at you ragged praises. His fingers barely even fit inside your tiny hole, but it sure as hell reaches your g-spot. White splotches burn your eyes as you dig your nails onto the side of his thick neck.
“Just like that. Oh, Toto.” He adds a third finger, and you hiss at the burning sensation. “That’s too much! Fuck.” He makes up for it, drawing figure 8’s between your velvety walls as you open up to him. Your legs start to slip down his shoulders as he spits. Keep them in place. You whimper, but obey, nonetheless.
The pad of his fingers continue assaulting your sweet spot, curling at a perfect angle. Your moans grow louder. Chocolate eyes flicker up to face your fucked up state. “Close?” You nod, vigorously. A warm strip teases your slippery lips. “Good. You’re doing so good, Peaches.”
Your hips buck suddenly as you suffocate him with your body, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Picking up on your candy nectar, he groans like a madman, greedy tongue swiping to lick every last drop. Shuddering at the feeling, you push his head away from in between your legs and grab him by the collar. For a second, he thinks you might kiss him, but when you don’t he realizes he’s disappointed. Instead, you plant a kiss on his cheek, hot breaths wrapping around his skin.
“Guess that makes us even, Mr. Wolff.”
-
“And then I rode a pony! I begged mama to let me get on a horse instead, but I just got a good scolding. But you would’ve let me, right papa?” Toto theatrically grins at Jack.
“Don’t tell her, but yes. I would have let you because you're a big boy now, aren't you?” The four year old nods, blond hair covering his eyes as he brushes it away with powdered hands from his donut. I miss you. When are you coming back?
Pressure tugs at the Austrians chest as he sighs. Jack was too young—he wouldn’t understand that he and Susie would no longer be living together. It was a mutual decision to tell him when the time was right, but it still killed him to lie to his son. Especially when he beams back with bright eyes. Toto winces. “Soon.” A pin drops. “Have you eaten your vegetables for the day?” Jack sprints away.
A soft laugh is heard from the other side of the screen as Susie comes to view. “He has not, by the way. Hi, Toto.” The brunette waves. “Are you actually busy with work or are you trying to forget about all your fatherly duties?”
“Is it that obvious?”
The blond chuckles. “Whatever it is, it’s great that you’ve taken time to yourself. Just don’t take too long.” Signing off, the fifty-two year old is left staring at his own reflection.
“He’s cuter than the pictures.” Toto flinches with surprise. Standing in a summer dress, you lick your lollipop. “His voice is super squeaky; it’s adorable.”
“Do you need something?”
His question may seem rude, but it’s not meant to come off as so. His voice is filled with genuine concern as he furrows his brows. You shake your head. “I’m bored, that's all.”
The brunette scoffs. “And by all means, you came to bother me.” A giggle dances out of you as you brush your hair back. Your sweet scent reaches him, even though you stand far enough away to make a run for the hills. “But I do have time. What do you have in mind?”
“I want to talk to my mom.” Your words shock him but he listens attentively, watching you as you sit on top of the table, legs swinging with rigidness. “I want to try and fix things.” He frowns. But you’ve done nothing wrong. You shift in an uncomfortable manner. “Well…”
“What did you do?”
“Remember how I got a restraining order, but I’ve never stepped close to Rosie?” He nods. You nibble on your thumb. “I s-sort of lied.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve met her, kind of…” You pout, hazed expression carving out through your doll features. “But I can explain.”
He sighs. “Please do.”
Your cheeks flush. “A few weeks before I met you, Connor called me. And I picked up. He told me he was willing to let me meet my sister, but only if I let him borrow fifty grand. To be honest, I don’t care if I never get my money back— I just wanted to be able to recognize Rosie’s face. Of course I said yes.” The Austrian listens carefully, loopy eyes dedicated to you. “I bought her ballet shoes, the one’s I told you about.”
“She was perfect. She giggled like the most angelic thing and her eyes crinkled in a way that made me love her instantly. I asked why Connor needed the money and if they were in trouble, but he only ignored me. Then he tried to kiss me.”
“He what?”
A timid smile plays out. “It’s okay, he does that sometimes, but I’m always able to push him off because most of the time he’s drunk out of his mind. I don’t normally care, but he had Rosie… What if because of some stupid mistake he put her in danger? I gave Rosie her gift and paid an Uber to take them back home.”
“My mom found out about the meet-up and marched right to my work. Don’t ask me how she got in. She yelled at me with such anger that I almost wanted to cry. She said I wanted to steal both Rosie and Connor from her. I promised that wasn’t true, but she didn’t care. Then I got my restraining order.”
The brunette’s words get stuck as he gapes at you. Clearing his throat, he drums his fingers against the table. “You should have told me the truth,” he begins. Hurt slashes your face—you thought he would understand. He offers a friendly smile. “But still…you’ve done nothing wrong.” A beat. “I can help you. Well, my lawyers can.”
Tears form inside your jello eyes. “Are you serious?”
He nods. “Your sister can’t grow up in a household that doesn’t want her, but keeps her just to twist the knife. Connor will pay for what he’s done to you.” Leaping off the table, you cross your arms. No. You can’t bring that up. He sends a sharp glare. “What he did was wrong, can’t you see?” Your bottom lip wobbles. She’s going to hate me even more. Tenderly, he sighs as he strolls over, cupping your face. “She shouldn’t, but if she does, at least you’ll be free from him. Has he only tried to kiss you?”
Closing your eyes, you release a wet breath. “He’s touched me a couple of times.” The Austrains eyes darken. Pushing his hands down, you quickly take a step back. “But by then I was due to move out, so it doesn’t really matter!”
“It matters a little,” he growls. “None of this is normal.” You flinch at his strong tone. “Sweetheart, tell me one thing; what would you do if God forbid, he did the same thing to Rosie?”
You gasp. “I would murder him.”
“So, you agree that we have to do something about this?” Hesitantly, you nod. “I’ll reach out to my attorney as soon as possible. I promise you that all of this will get taken care of.” Muscular arms drape over your shoulders as he hugs you. Bewildered, you blink as you stiffen. “You don’t hug much?”
“Nope.”
He booms with laughter, chest vibrating as you smile at the feeling. Everything about this feels right, so then why does that scare you?
-
He vows to be back as soon as he’s done with the car reveal. I don’t care, you reply as you pop a mint into your mouth, getting ready for work.
You’re going to miss me, watch.
And damn him, the fucker was right—you did. A part of you wishes he would rush past the doors, yapping about he thought you were dead and didn’t ask for permission to take the Benz. But he was across the world, smiling wide at media duties as you watched behind a tiny screen. It’s good that he’s taking time to see Jack, too.
“Why are you sighing so sad?” Roxy asks, fixing her combat boots. “Not getting any clients? Though I doubt it. They love you.”
You let out a forced laugh. “I’m not sad—tired.”
The red head furrows her brows suspiciously before hugging you. Your arms dangle lazily as you scrunch your nose. She giggles. “Does this have to do with Mr. Toto Wolff? He’s hot—crazy hot.” She untangles herself from you. “He must be the devil himself.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yeah,” she cheers happily. “But also, you’re totally in love.” Your stomach drops. No, I am not. Roxy rolls her eyes. “You’re a good liar, but you’re not that good. I’ve noticed the way you look at him. Like you want to eat him alive as you kiss him until your lips snap.”
You wince at the image. “You have a way with words…”
She beams, thin brows raising up. “I’ve also noticed that you haven’t gone into the private room since he walked in through those doors. So what, you’re just going to keep pretending?”
“You’re such a creep!” you squeal, delicate hand slapping her thigh. She squeals lightheartedly. You’re missing out on a shit ton of money. We’re talking dough. And yet you don't bat an eye because you don’t want anyone but him. Did I nail it?
You pinch your fingers together as you huff. “You’re crazy. Crazy. There is no way I could be in lo—” Hey! The ringing sound makes your blood run cold as you fear to turn around. Look at me. Foxy stares back at you with anxious eyes. Do you know her? Looking down onto your lap, you nod. “That’s my mother.”
“Oh shit.”
A dry hand yanks you by the arm as she spins you around. “I’m talking to you. Why won’t you look at me?”
You flinch. “I’m working, you can’t be doing this—”
“I don’t give two shits if you’re working or not, if I say we need to talk, then we need to talk.” Ro shakes his head, distressed as he apologizes. I’m so sorry, Peaches. She said she was your mom and I…I didn't know what to do. You smile back softly.
“Don’t worry. Can you get me a room?”
As soon as your mother enters the dark area, she whistles. “Fancy, but really? Bending over for any man willing to pay you a couple cents? That’s disgusting.”
Your cheeks burn up as you fight back tears. “What do you want? Is Rosie okay?” Panic rushes through your veins as you grab her by the shoulders, shaking her violently. She’s so thin, you think you might break her. “Is she okay, I said?”
“She’s fine,” she yawns. “So…this is what you’re up to? It always…catches me by surprise. Not really.”
“I had no choice,” you whisper meekly. “You gave me no choice.”
The older woman smirks. “Don’t you dare blame me. No one makes you do anything— this was your decision.”
You let out a tired sigh. “Just tell me what you want…”
Her eye twitches, as if she remembers why she was so angry to begin with. “I got your complaint; you’re suing me for being a bad mother and Connor for…assaulting you? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”
“I’m not lying—”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie?” you yell back, acid sliding down your cheeks. “I would never make up such a thing. He assaulted me countless times as you never did a single thing.”
“I never saw anything.”
You let out a bitter laugh. “You walked in on it! You called me a slut! I was seventeen for fuck sakes. But no—you blamed me for sleeping with your husband instead.” You take a good look at her; dark undereyes, frail figure, needles imprints everywhere. “You can’t keep doing this. You need to think about Rosie—”
“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie—I could not care any less about her! She just bugs with all her crying. It’s exhausting.”
“She’s just a baby.” Grabbing her hands, you soften your gaze. “If you don’t want her, fine, let me raise her…I swear I can do it.”
Your mother perks up. “You would do that?” Yes. Of course I would, you respond instantly. You’ll never hear about us ever again. Her thin hand cradles your cheek warmly, and for a moment, you let yourself lean against it. Then she pulls away and strikes you harshly, causing you to stumble back. “Why would I ever please you like that?”
Bring your hand up to your stinging flesh, you sob. “I-I…what?”
“Here’s what you’re going to do; you're going to drop the charges against me and Connor.”
“No.”
She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure?”
Rising up with shaky legs, you keep a firm face even though it begs to howl in pain. “I said no. You’re not going to hand her over willingly, okay…Then I’m taking you to court.”
“Like hell you aren’t.” Tugging your arm, she presses her face insanely close to yours. You wince at the smell of intoxication; you can’t even tell what kind. “I will fucking kill you, do you hear me?”
You let out a wet laugh, ripping your arm away from her tight grip. “I don’t care. I don’t care anymore, but I am saving my sister from you two—no matter what.” Her nostrils flare as she heaves. You let out a sad whimper. “When did you become so inhuman? You used to be kind, beautiful, ha—”
“Heartbreak does that to a person,” she simply states before walking out, leaving you to yourself as you finally come crashing down.
-
He didn’t expect for there to be a racket, but the house felt awfully quiet. He knows you weren't at work—he had checked. He thought maybe you could have been out with friends, so he sighs before resting on the couch. He sits there for an hour or so before heading upstairs to take a shower.
As soon as he enters the bedroom, he finds you covered with thick blankets as you cry. Alarmed, he rushed to your side of the bed. Oh my God, you shriek at the anonymous person before squirting. “When did you get here?”
“That doesn’t matter—what’s wrong?”
You hope brushing your tears away would stop him from asking questions. “What makes you think something is wrong?”
A pinched up expression maps out. Your chin forms a peach seed as you let out a weak sob and stand on the bed, making you the same height as him, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s stunned, but snaps out of it as he hugs you back, calloused fingers playing with your soft hair. “What’s wrong?”
“My mom visited me at work. She said some nasty things, but that doesn’t matter to me, what does is that she won’t let me adopt Rosie,” you muffle against his neck, salty tears wetting his collared shirt. “She’d rather raise her out of spite. She’s not made for this, she's malicious.”
“What else did she say?”
You pause, sniffling before pulling back with a reindeer nose. “That’s it.”
The Austrian lowered his gaze with subtle threat. “No, tell me everything she told you.”
“I swear that’s all.”
His brown eyes scan your face, but you remain still, only shaky breaths being released. He clenches his jaw. “Where does she live?” Your face drops. Why do you want to know? “Where does she live?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Stop being so stubborn and let yourself be helped—”
“I don’t need your help anymore, Toto!” You purse your lips, trembling hands brushing your hair back. Anger rushes over him as he inspects the purple bruise.
“Who did this to you?”
Sitting back down on the bed, your nose twitches. “I’m moving out.”
“Who fucking did this to you?” His voice is lethal. Thank you for trying to fix things, but I’m sure I can do it myself from now on. “What you don’t seem to understand is that you don’t have to. It was your mother, correct?” Forlorn, you agree with your silence. “What have they done to you?” he whispers, pain lacing his raw voice.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” you whisper, salty tears sliding down. “I’m going to kill your image—they’re going to hate you because of me.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” the brunette ricochets back. “All I care about is that you’re okay. That you find the happiness you deserve to have.”
Grimacing, you sniffle, shaking your head. “I’m starting to think that doesn’t exist. Or at least I’m so unlucky that I won’t get a piece,” you joke. “The closest thing I’ve felt to that is when I met you.” His heart melts as he stares back, adoringly. “You’ve helped me in so many ways, Toto. Thank you for that.”
“But—”
“I know.” Rising up on the fluffy bed, you tower over him a bit, pressing kisses on his temples, cheeks, nose, neck. “You’re the only man who's ever made me feel something real. I can’t explain it, but I hope it makes sense.”
He gulps. “It does. You want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve made me feel the exact same way from the moment you stepped into my life.” He closes the gap between you two as you stumble back against the mattress, but his large hands prevent you from getting away. “You’re not perfect—you’re flawed. You don’t have your life together—but you’re trying to. You’re not the tough girl you make yourself out to be—but that’s because you feel the need to build up walls to protect yourself from others.” Your stomach churns with every word he speaks. “And somehow…you have me wrapped around your finger.”
It happens so quickly, the way he presses his lips against yours. He can taste the saltiness but doesn’t dare to pull away. Like an animal, you move your mouth against his, whimpers flowing to his ears like symphonies. Toto knows why you never made the first move; you were scared to admit your feelings. But he was too.
Almost as if you read his mind, you run your fingers against his scalp as he breathes out, against your open mouth. “You won’t do the same, right Toto?”
“What, sweetheart?”
Gloomy eyes reflect against his own. “Leave?”
“Unless you ask me to, then no.” He pecks your temple. “I can’t even imagine living without you anymore.”
That’s all it takes as you jump on him, silky legs wrapping around his torso like a piece of ribbon. He grunts loudly when you bite down on his bottom lip before letting go. “God, Toto, you’re—” As soon as he sucks on your throat, your sentence dies. Writhing against him, you try pushing him off as he chuckles, then he sets you down against the white sheets.
Immediately, you crawl back to the edge of the bed to where he still stands. Frisky hands tremble as you aim for his belt. Such a pretty girl, he thinks as you slip it off. You don’t have to do this. “I owe you, remember?” Then eager hands push his pants down, along with his boxers.
You knew he would be big, but that was an understatement. Toto was huge. Being 6’5 should have been a warning itself, but still. Drooling over his cock, you lick your lips, doe eyes fixating back to him. “I might not be able to take it all in my mouth,” you sheepishly state, red faced. The fifty-two year old has probably had a much better encounter; you were just making a fool out of yourself. Running his thumb against your cheekbone, the corners of his lips fly up.
“I’ll walk you through it.”
Humming, you delicately wrap your hand around his length. Even just feeling it makes the heat in your belly grow. He clenches his jaw. Jerking him off, you wrap your lips around the pink tip. The Austrian releases a dirty groan, hips bucking as you smile around him. Pulling back, you stare up expecting the next step. Start off how you normally would.
Pouty lips welcome him down your throat as you whine, the vibrations sending him into an orbit. When your palm slithers to what you can’t reach, he tsks. “You haven’t even tried.” Soft brows pinch together as if to say; Probably because I know I can’t either way. His nostrils flare. “Relax your jaw.”
Doing as you’re told, you gag as you squeeze your eyes shut and curl your toes. Your back arches, ass flying up as you struggle. A large hand reaches out to smack it. Yelping, you ease your mouth, thick member sliding down furthermore than you could have even imagined. There you go.
Swallowing around him, you bob your head at a steady pace, reliving the steps, too scared to mess up. The Austrian throws his head back, sharp jaw in clear display as he pants. “Just like t-that, fuck. You’re doing so…shit.” While he’s enjoying himself, tears burst out as you clench your eyes, lashes becoming darker. The feeling is definitely getting him off, but he wanted to make things easier for you.
Brushing your untamed hair back, he traces the bridge of your nose. Your orbs remain closed, and he finds himself missing them. “Breathe through your nose.” Ragged breaths fly out as your fingers dig against his thighs. He hisses. But gradually, it gets better. Glossy eyes stare up at him, lips stretch around his cock as you continue your filthy movements.
As if to prove yourself to him, you deepthroat him even more as his head rolls back, floppy hair following along. Soft fingers brush against his legs as he shudders, face twisted with pleasure. Pulling away, you swirl your wet lips against his tip, feeding off of his precum before forcing yourself back down.
Thick ropes of cum slide down your throat as you moan loudly. The brunette grunts, shaky breaths flying past his lips. With a teasing pop, you kneel up as you open wide. He moans at the sight of his release swimming inside your sinister mouth, then you swallow. Even though your throat is extremely sore, you still beam at him.
“Where have you been all my life?.” Climbing over you, he lays you flat, slipping your dress off. He’s stunned to find out you’re completely naked. Cherry red feathers on your cheeks. “Are you sure you didn’t know I was going to be back?”
Your lips curl. “No idea.”
He wraps his mouth against your bud as you whimper, hand massaging his head as he repeats his actions to the other. You could definitely fall asleep to this. When you open your eyes, you’re impressed to find out he’s completely stripped down, toned body exposed. The sight makes you grow excited, nervous.
“Are you on birth control?”
You curse softly. “I’m not. Crap.” Disappointed, you’re expecting him to climb off, but he doesn’t. Instead, he let out a raw chuckle. “I t-told you I don’t fuck men on the regular—”
“I don’t need the reminder,” he grunts. His brown eyes soften. “What’s your wish in life?”
Confusion paints your face. “To have you?”
“Cute.” Flustered, you focus on his contracting abs. Foaming at the mouth, you try to picture rubbing your core against them. “The other one,” he demands.
“Oh…” No. He can’t possibly mean… Your heart stops beating. “To be a mom.”
“There it is.”
Briskly, he pushes into you as you wince in pain. I know, I know, he coos. But it’s better this way. It won’t feel so bad in a few minutes. Crying against his humid chest, your jaw hangs open. “It really hurts, Toto. Oh…it burns.” Hot tears reestablish themselves inside your orbs. “You’re too big.”
“Breath, sweetheart, breath.” His voice calms you down as your mewls lessen. “See?” You hum. “I’m going to move, alright?”
“O-okay,” you respond, dizzy. The feeling returns—less painful—but returns, nonetheless. Panic expands through your chest as you begin to think he might split you in half. His cock was just so thick and veiny. But it felt delicious between your velvety walls. “Fuck, baby,” you pant.
“I knew you could do it.” A warm peck lingers on your shoulder. “You feel so tight, schatz. So warm.” He sighs in relief as your tiny cunt compresses against his length, easing the pain from being as hard as a rock. Worse. Strong arms pick your legs up over his bare shoulders, making him travel deeper.
“Toto, Toto, Toto—”
Eyes entertained against your slippery hole, he raises his brows. Yeah, baby? Getting a hold of his hand, you bring it over your stomach. His jaw clenches. “I can feel you.” Writhing in ecstasy, you toss your head to the side, small whines echoing between the vaporized walls. Pouding into you at a faster pace, he growls, bite marks being left behind on your legs. You hiss, clamping your eyes even harder, which makes you clench around his cock even more.
“Do that again,” he begs. “Do it—” You oblige, attention set on how he moans feverishly, hands adding pressure to your legs. For sure his imprints would be left behind. Taking advantage of the little power you have, you untangle yourself, greedily climbing onto his thick lap.
“Looking good, Mr. Wolff.”
He looked more than good—he looked eternal. The way his chest heaves, his soft pants, sweaty hair framing his handsome face, dark eyes praising you as if you were Athena herself. A confession finds into your brain as you halt. Beads of sweat cover his long nose as he appears concerned by the sudden break. Is everything okay? Rubbing your eyes as if you just had the worst nightmare, you blink hastily.
Roxy couldn't have been right—she never was. Except, she is this time. It's as if a warm glow towers over him, your chest feels awfully vacant, but you’re not scared because you know your heart has found its home in the palm of his hand. You laugh in amusement as you touch his face all over. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “What’s so funny?”
“I love you, Toto Wolff.”
A lump forms inside his throat as he tilts his head. “You do?”
You shrug sheepishly. “I do.” Kissing his lips, you sigh with content. “I love you, I love you, I love you; I adore you.” He can hear the clock ticking as he stares back with his lips slightly parted. “You don’t have to feel the same, you dont have to say it back—I don’t care, but I can’t keep living a life of regret…”
“I love you, too.” Cartoon eyes blink back at him as he chuckles. “Do you believe me?”
“Uh…” Your lips stretch out. “Yes.”
Shifting on top of the Austrian, you make sure to slip him back inside as you moan in unison. Riding someone has never felt so addicting. Gasping at the raw feeling, you dig your nails onto his shoulders. When you look down at him, you are pleased to find him struggling to catch his breath. His fingers pinch your hips harshly as you bounce harder and faster, as if he would regret his words and leave you. “So big.” You drool, hair flourishing around you. “Stretching me out so good, Mr. Wolff.” He growls at you captivating words. “Making it so easy to ride you, huh? Cock brushing against the perfect sp—oh my God.”
Your face twists up with pleasure when the tip of his cock brushes against the mushy part that makes you almost black out. Movements slow down but it’s not long before he lifts you up and slamming you back down. “Toto!” you squeal, flimsy arms reaching out to balance yourself on his wide shoulders. Everytime he hauls you up and you look back at him, he represents like a giant. Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging wide open. “I-I’m close-e-e.”
“Me too,” he grunts. Like a devilicious man on a mission, he slaps your face carefully, forcing you to connect your glossy orbs with his loopy ones. “Gonna let me cum inside? Carry my baby, just like you’ve always wanted?”
“Yes,” you chant. “Yes—all of it—yes.” Cradling his cheek against your sweaty palm, you smile. “Cum inside of me, Wolff.”
With one final push, you both release loud moans, a strong wave of orgasms crashing violently against one another. Huffing, he makes a ponytail with your messy hair before letting go. “You think it worked?” You giggle.
“We’ll have to wait and see.” Leaning towards him, you kiss him gingerly. His mind grows blurry with how meaningful you make it seem. I’m yours—my heart is all yours—but please don’t break it, it seems to tell him as his enormous hands squish you closer to him, as if that were possible.
“I know of a few ways we can make sure.”
-
Though you had mutually admitted your feelings to one another, there still didn’t appear to be a proper label to it all. Time was slipping, he would soon have no other choice but to leave and face all his responsibilities.
But you can come back with me, he would desperately bring up as he fucked you against the wall. Tits would be bouncing at a hasty speed as you look back with your mouth in an O. I want you to. You won’t ever have to worry about anything, I promise. You can go back to Uni. You’ll get custody over Rosie, and Jack will be over the moon. We could have a family of our own, just you and I, Peaches. Huh? How does that sound, baby?
It sounded perfect; like a dream. You could taste it already. Early morning calls that you wouldn’t mind because he’d be laying down next to you. Quiet time as you jot down notes and he stresses over the next big decision for the team. And at the end, you would be glad you made the choice to choose him. Just like he chose you.
With shaky hands, you brush his messy hair back as he dotes on your bambi eyes. The way they glimmered extra bright that night; like starlight. The brunette’s face would soften up when you trace his nose, the curve of pink lips, his lines. Everything about him was breathtakingly dominant.
You’d be a fool to deny.
So, you accept.
-
If Toto were to be told that he had died and ascended to heaven; he wouldn’t second guess the possibility. Because being with you felt exactly like that. Every passing second only adds to the amount of love he bottles up for you. It would overflow and he’d be okay; bring out the next. Oh, that one’s full, too? Okay, next.
All of it made sense. You matched perfectly in sync with him like a cozy glove and he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’d be whispers from others, but he doesn’t care. He’d deal with just about anything for you.
“You’re leaving so soon.” A click. “Have you thought about quitting?”
He can see you grow as stiff as a tree. Your back faces him, but he can still spot your reflection. Of course you looked absolutely lovely, but there was something different about…God. He doesn’t even know what to call it.
“I’m not quitting.”
The Austrians' lips form a thin line; shoes clicking against the floor even more. A boom of lighting fills the room as you flinch. He smiles slowly. “Right—not yet, at least. Not until you move to Monaco.”
More heavy silence. “Sure.”
Now he’s worried. Strolling closer to you, he brushes his warm hand against your shoulder, kissing your exposed skin. “What is it?”
His heart stops when he notices you blinking back tears; bloodshot eyes tracing his tall figure. His first assumption is the most obvious; your mother and Connor. They had probably done something, said something, and now they’ve got you—
“I’m taking the car. See you later.”
He blinks. The cold demeanor was something unusual on your behalf, but leaving without a goodbye kiss was alarming. Toto tries to suppress his feelings with a bottle of scotch, but nothing seems to work. He has to see you.
Gathering his wallet and house keys, he strides out the door before he spots his laptop wide open. As soon as he returned, he would have to answer endless emails, but for now, that wasn’t his priority. Inching closer, he reaches down to slap it shut when his pulse runs cold.
We should think about Jack.
He’s too young to understand anything of what’s going on, Suse.
Let’s just try one last time. I swear I’ll change.
I love you.
He knew instantly; you had read the messages. He had sent them, there's no doubt, but that was so long ago. The date was right there; all before he met you. Before opening up to you. But he doubts you spared enough time to spot the tiny detail. You saw his texts and that’s all; the rest was blocked.
Toto’s palms get sweaty, ears burning red, and heart racing faster than a fucking F1 car. How must you feel? You had made him promise that he wouldn’t hurt you and now this? The confusion was completely explainable, but he had to get to you fast.
It’s as if he owns the place, marching fiercely past the open doors that swing once they spot the Austrian. NDA’s were rather foolish when it comes to him now because he just held that much power. That much respect. But he can’t think of why something feels off. You were hurt, and he felt awful, but no…there’s something else. As if there were an actual wolf lurking deep in the woods; ready to pounce. The hair in the back of his neck stands up, goosebumps forming, and eyes flickering all over the rich club, hoping to find you.
“Hey,” he pants when he spots the familiar redhead. Foxy lives up to her name because her laser glare has him scared for his life. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance before strutting away, a row of men following. The Austrian pushes past them all, pleading just like any other, but for a completely different reason. “Have you seen, Peaches?”
“Yes.”
“Great! Where is she?”
“Around.”
The dancer beams at the group of businessmen who relax against their seat, hunting down without shame. They wore wedding bands, but who cared, right? Toto’s large hand grasps her wrist, tugging her away as she gasps, causing a commotion. He doesn’t care, he just has to find you.
Brown eyes glimmer threateningly but also soft because they’re both aware he needs her, for she only knows where to find you. “Listen, I know she told you what happened, but it was all some misunderstanding! The messages..they were sent to my ex-wife a long time ago. Before any of this, I swear…you have to believe me.”
Foxy narrows her thin brows, digging a sharp nail against his toned chest. “No, you listen—Peaches is one of the sweetest girls I have ever met; she's my other half, so when you hurt her…” A beat. “That’s it. She doesn’t forgive.”
His shoulders drop like an avalanche. “B-but it was a...you don’t mean that.”
The redhead struts away, long legs prancing like a vixen. “Believe me; don’t believe me—I don’t care. Just leave her alone.”
But he can’t do that anymore, he's in too deep. No matter how many times Foxy cursed him to leave, he just wouldn't. He would explain. Even if it were that last thing he did. All's fair after that.
“Mr. Wolff?” A red drink is extended out towards him kindly, to which he shakes his head with a forced smile. If you can even call it that. He’s sure he looks awful, dressed in all black, but it perfectly represented him for who he is and how he was feeling. It’s almost as if he were ready to show up to a funeral.
As time ticks at a snail's pace, he grows more nauseous. There’d be a moment where you see him and he doesn’t know how you would react. Fuck—he doesn’t know how he would, either. To some it may be embarrassing to weep in front of a group of worldly men, but if you looked at him a certain way where he knew it was over? He’d be the first, and without hesitation or shame.
He’s come to recognize your set as fast as a racing strategy. The stage would light up a soft yellow; swallow the room like the early sun. The piano keys would start off slow, taunting, and almost sinister—Yayo. And of course, you’d prance around like a broken angel, wings brushing your hair like his long fingers would.
But this is strange.
He’s too busy analyzing the colorful club when the lights burn black, only the glass box raining a bright red. He doesn’t even recognize it’s you.
The intro isn’t the notorious piano lullabies, but rather scratchy violins. Million Dollar Man slithers across the crowded room like a venomous snake, waiting to strike anyone who doesn’t lay their attention on them.
And this time, you’re no angel, you’re no devil. You’re both. It’s confusing and alarming, but also beautiful and breathtaking. While your dress is cotton white, your makeup is dark and tempting, lips dark red. Your knee socks are tied with a simple ribbon, making men drool like some type of fuckery. You look miserably broken. If anyone were to guess, then they’d say that you’re high off drugs, but that’s not the case. You're high off heartbreak.
And the simple necklace you wear, with his marriage ring attached to it, is a pelluid indication. Even if it was new level petty.
Toto is in such a trance that he doesn’t even feel when a group of hands push him to sit down, eager to have a clear view of their own. They all secretly envy the Austrian when they notice that he had landed himself the best seat in the house without even trying.
So, was it fate to be sitting here, in front of you? Was it fate to have met, then hurt you without the means? The music is almost terrifying, along with your black wings and white halo. All of this is utterly puzzling; was he supposed to be into this, or fear it? Was he supposed to feel his heartbeat in the pit of his stomach, drumming against his ribcage, or was he supposed to be at ease? But most important; would you spare him this time to apologize, or would you kick him out of your life? The last notion scared him the most as he sat like a tired soldier, brown eyes blinking to where you start to seductively twirl.
I don’t know how you convince them and get them. Shiny legs drag behind your delicate figure as your eyes roam the room, sighing with every lustful stare. This is purely pathetic, it didn’t make you feel the way you intended for it to do, but shit. All you wanted to do was flee the state and never look back. But there were too many things tying you back; Foxy, Ro, Rosie…A stinging sensation begins to form behind your orbs and you fiercely blink them away, refusing for the thought of Toto to be what brings you down.
But in a moment like this, what were you supposed to think about? Toto was many things; devilishly, cunningly handsome, tempting, brilliant, intoxicating; but he was also a fucking no-good, professional heartbreaker, a screwed up man who roamed earth without a sense of direction, who truly never deserved to fall in love again, especially with someone was tainted and loyal as you—
But the eyes don't lie. He’s become known by you; someone in your favorite book whom you look for in every page, despite it all. His orbs remind you of your favorite kind of dark chocolate, swirly and dreamy; enough to make you swoon, but they’re filled with more than just that. They’re desperate, as if ready to run endless miles if that's what it took for you to speak to him. They’re loopy, blazing nervously when you spot him, brows knitted with concern.
And he deserves it…you think.
Still, that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning, causing you to panic at the thought of spilling your lunch in front of everyone eyeing the glass box you're hidden behind; it could only ever do so much. Everyone can see your usually tantalizing persona fly out the window, a frail—shattered—girl taking your place.
He’s tricked you. He made you let your guard down, let him in, and then ramshackled you whole; and he hadn’t been nice about it either. How could you have ever thought he would choose you over someone who actually held his kid for nine months? You had seen the messages that sunny morning; birds chirped, flowers bloomed. He had been busy doing God knows what, and when his bright laptop dinged, you couldn’t help but peek. As you once told him; you loved gossip.
Jack is asking if you remember where he last left his stuffed bear? You know, the one with the white spots?
Susie. You had heard a lot about her—you’ve read, a lot, too— she was someone to admire. Helped create a path of perseverance for young girls; it was astonishing. The thought of Jack made you smile, then the bear, then her. Which is why you aimlessly scrolled once, playfully, and then you came to a rude halt.
If someone were to grovel that way for you, you would helplessly fall for it. Fuck, he pratically begged for a second chance. Heat weaved through your body, anger rising, and then falling cruelly with a sense of undeniable ache. You had cried; sobbed. Then you got ready for work.
When he had asked what was wrong, you wanted to stab him with the nearby knife, and the thought scared you half to death. You could tell he was deeply wounded by the cold shoulder, but why the fuck should you care?
Here—in Machiavellian Nights—trapped behind a transparent case, with disgusting men eyefucking you, you realize; there’s no place to run. An attraction is what you are; tourists are what they all represent. Toto’s massive figure swallowed his seat whole, long legs spread open naturally. And you hate it how handsome he looks, dark clouds painting his usually happy eyes. His chest dances up and down, wrestling to catch a breath. The hollers make him flinch in the slightest, grimacing.
The Austrian is apologizing, cryptically. I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry. His lips aren't moving, but you can hear his pleads as the music continues.
C’mon! Dance, someone demands from afar, rough hand smacking the glass. Gasping, you purse your lips, continuing. Ignorance is horrible; especially coming from you. The idea of going on without you feel like a nightmare—torture. He tries standing up, and he doesn’t really know what his game plan is exactly in order to get to you, but heads turn and harsh arms force him back down.
It isn’t that hard, boy. To like you, or love you. It was as if you got yanked back into what is truly your reality. You can’t have good things in life. Your father hadn’t died—he had abandoned you. Your mother did too. And Toto…
Toto Wolff was just the same.
You’re glad no one can hear you choking back on tears, you wouldn't dare to fall. But emotions were running high, your throat felt raw, your eyes stung, knees felt wobbly, and it was too much. But aside from your hurt, an eerie feeling hugged your chest, forcing your rib cage to poke you as a warning. You allow yourself to look back up, rapidly scanning the unlit room. Everything was blurry—which didn’t help—but what was it?
You’re no longer focused; your legs sway, your gartner slides down, your nose is starting to get runny, and it was all a mess. Connecting your gaze back to his, you narrow them down like deathly blades. This is all your fault, they scream at him, enraged. If you hadn’t walked into my life, then I wouldn’t be this way.
You’re screwed up and brilliant.
“You fucking ruined me!” Running towards the glass, you violently slap and punch, over and over until you no longer feel any pain. Red bruises form rather quickly and everyone begins to murmur.
Look like a million dollar man.
“I hate you, Toto Wolff!” Muffled whimpers flow like a waterfall as everyone turns to face the fifty-two year old who sits with a hurt expression.
“I can explain,” he pleads, instantly rising up to his scary height and rushing over to where you’re caged. His large hand pathetically grasps it, fingerprints painting the shiny protection between you and him. “Sweetheart…”
So why is my heart broke?
“I’ll regret you for the rest of my—”
Chaos ensues; the volcano erupts. It’s suffocating, the way everyone tramples over one another, scattering like lab rats. The yells of terror make his blood run ice cold, swiftly turning around to face the open room. Foxy lets out a scream filled with agony as she crawls over to the stage. Acid slides down her face, makeup running. The other dancers run to hide where the bartender stands with his mouth wide open, orbs flickering with urgency. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he has to get you out of here.
“Open it!” Foxy cries, hands hitting the clear box so forcefully that her nails begin to chip, light gore beginning to slide down. “Open the fucking stage right now!” She lets out a string of pleas, but no one is listening—they can’t even try to with all the loud noise. The alarms go off and that’s what snaps him out of his spot of confusion and what makes her cry and fall back against her arms.
The glass isn’t shattered like in the movies, all over the floor, no. There’s just a singular hole, scratches circling around it—and spikes of blood coloring the crystal clear mirror.
Even with eyes closed, face sticky with tears, and blood spurting out of your mouth and chest, pooling around your angelic body, you were still beautiful. The ring lays flat atop your unbeating heart, shining one last time against the cherry lights. You were gone as soon as the bullet hit, but Toto was the last person you had seen. And you wish you had time to tell him you never meant any of it. You could never hate him; you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.
“I…no. No. No.” Fists punch urgently, cuts finding a place in his pale skin. “Open it!” More pounds. “Let her out! Why is no one letting her out?” Trepidation sleeks over him as he stops his actions, taking a second to look at you. Your dark wings had somehow turned darker, your white dress is now drowned in crimson red, your halo is no longer on your head, and your lively skin is now ghostly pale, almost gray. “Peaches…” His voice quivers so much, he almost doesn't realize it's coming from him. “Get up, sweetheart—come on, just stand.”
His chest tightens when you go unresponding. “T-think about Rosie! She loves you; she needs you. I need you,” he declares, voice cracking. “The text messages are a mishap! I only love you, Peaches, that’s all! I swear I do, I swear it’s you…”
He dreads to turn around and face what was now his life. The music cuts, but the frightful screams continue. Toto blinks back the stingy feeling as he flickers up to make eye contact with who’s responsible for ripping you away from him.
You share the same eyes, but hers are sullen now. Her hair looks as if it could have once been glossy, but is now as dry as the desert. Her lips are nastily chapped, but an uncanny curl slips through as she ticks anxiously when Ro and the rest of the guards hold her without an ounce of remorse, cuffing skinny, needled wrists.
Your mother looks down at the gun, at her daughter, then at Toto. An unhinged stare strikes her impentent face.
“I brought her into this world…I can also take her out.”
