🥺🥺

That was fantastic and has me drooling 🤤🤤

Malfoy Manor

Severus has ignored you all day but he gets angry when he sees you and Lucius flirt and then you walk to your room together.

Severus Snape & Lucius Malfoy x femme reader

^this is a long one-shot & this is going to be a bit harsh, and it has a Snucius part.^

SMUT!

-

Being Draco's best friend is always fun. Parties, drinking, dancing, sleepovers, etc. this summer, you've done all of it but Severus, your boyfriend was invited to the Malfoy Manor too. Of course, no one knew about your relationship because if they knew, well, it would have consequences.

You can't ignore the fact that senior Malfoy is attractive, the way he looks you up and down only makes you want to make him pin you to bed and fuck you until you see stars. But you love your lover more than anything, and you know no one can satisfy you but him.

Today, Draco has invited his friends to the Manor again, which means you get to drink, dance and probably end up in bed with Severus. But so far, your plans have been doing good except for Severus' cold glares. He has been ignoring you all day, he hasn't talked to you, kisses you, or even crack a little smile.

He just stared at you with an emotionless expression.

You get ready for the party. Putting on your lacy red knickers without bras, cause your dress has cups to shape your breasts enough for everyone to drool over you. You put on your black dress, a tight crop top that has on a strap on the left shoulder and it's connected to the skirt with thin straps wrapped around your belly.

You slip in your black heels, applying some red lipstick and blush on your cheeks, and with a flick of your wand, your hair is styled down on your shoulder. (You can imagine your hair however you like, but here, some people have short hair, such as me so bear with me loves)

You check yourself in the mirror, You look magnificent. (Yes you are so beautiful and gorgeous) With a satisfied smile, you walk out of your room. As you walk downstairs, you hear the music playing, and chattering fills the Manor.

You enter the room with small steps and search for your boyfriend who gave you the cold shoulder for a day. Spotting him, you walk to him with an annoyed expression, but you couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach. He looks so delicious that it takes everything in you not to jump on him here and there.

His first few buttons are undone. The mixture of his jet black hair with a white shirt and black jeans is too good for you. You bite your lip and walk up to him, swaying your hips side to side. "Professor Snape, it's good to see you've decided to join us at last,"

He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his whiskey. You look at his soft thin lips, wrapped around the crystal glass as his hands grab the glass tightly. "Severus, what is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me? Huh? I have seen your filthy thoughts about Lucius. Did you think I wouldn't get mad at you for thinking about getting fucked by another man?"

"You know it was only a dream, Severus. Don't make a big deal about it. You are the only one who can satisfy me, and you are aware of that,"

"Get out of my sight, before I snap at you," He whispers dangerously low in your ear. But you can't care less about him. You roll your eyes and turn around to walk away, as you start to make your way to Pansy, you glance back at Severus. To your dismay, Severus' assistant is approaching him with a seductive smile.

Catrina. That whore is always around Severus. Not to mention she gets touchy when they have a conversation, but the thing that annoys you the most is that it seems Severus doesn't have ANY problems with her flirting and touching.

You feel anger and jealousy bubbles inside of you. He has ignored you for the whole day, and now he is flirting with his assistant in front of you. You turn around, eyebrows knitted as anger rises in your veins.

Two can play, Mr. Snape

You look around the room, desperately trying to lit up your mood. You walk to the bar, waiting for the bartender to approach you. "Double neat whiskey," He nods and brings your shot. You gulp down the whole shot, feeling the burning session of the whiskey in your body. You feel yourself getting lighter a bit. You order another one, not being aware of a certain Blonde wizard's presence next to you.

You drink the whole shot again and sigh in relief that now alcohol is in your bloodstream. You order another one, but you are interrupted by a raspy voice behind you. "Slow down, you can't take another drink,"

You turn around and see Lucius Malfoy, standing there with his black button-up shirt with a glass of Brandy in his hand as he looks at you up and down. "I can take more than only whiskey shots, Mr. Malfoy." You lean your back on the counter and grab your glass.

His cock stiffens in his pants as he looks at your exposed cleavage. His eyes darken with lust and the tent his pants get larger and larger by second. You feel yourself getting aroused by the thought of him between your legs. You glance behind Lucius, looking at Severus who's busy flirting with Catrina.

You quickly look back at Lucius, rubbing his shin with your heels as you give him a sexy look. "It's like you have completely forgotten where are we, young lady,"

"Are you suggesting we should take this somewhere private? Because honestly, I'm not complaining," He swallows nervously. You are very tempting and it doesn't help him with the visible bulge in his pants.

You straighten your back, taking a step toward him. You inch yourself closer to his ear and whisper seductively. "Your choice of clothing is very nice, Mr. Malfoy, but they would look better on my bedroom floor," Heat creeps on his pale cheeks as he shifts uncomfortably. He grabs your wrist and pulls you with him upstairs.

None of you are aware that someone is following you too. As he reaches your room, he opens the door and walks in with you, but before he can slam the door shut, someone puts his foot between the door.

The door bursts open, revealing an angry and jealous Severus with a very hard cock in his pants. He shuts the door and locks it, taking big steps towards you. He wraps his fingers around your neck, squeezing it with all his strength as he closes your airway.

"You are such a desperate slut for men. Flirting with Lucius because I didn't pay attention to you. Tsk tsk, I don't even think punishment will suit you. I'll torture you tonight, edging you until you will lick my shoes, begging me to let you cum. Taking my cock down your throat until you are out of tears."

"Fuck you!"

"I'm up for it if you are,"

You try to shove his hand away from your neck, but he only chuckles darkly at your behaviors and tightens his grip around your neck.

"Yes, my little whore, Lucius, and I will stretch that tight pussy until you are completely ripped. This is what disgusting sluts get for being such a pick-me girl,"

Lucius looks thrilled and shocked at the same time. Shocked because he found out about your secret relationship with Severus, and thrilled that he's going to fuck you mercilessly.

He takes his hands away from your neck. You can feel your arousal, wetting your inner thighs. Suddenly, Severus' hands come down on your cheek, making you jump in surprise. By now, you are beyond turned on. Your body is going to be used for the two men around you for their pleasure, and honestly, you like it.

Severus brings out his wand, with one flick, you are completely naked in front of four lustful eyes who are staring at your curves with a pang of growing hunger. Severus gestures to Lucius to do something that you don't understand. Lucius smirks and goes out of the room.

A few seconds later, he comes back with a bag that you couldn't understand what's inside of it. Before you can ask anything, Severus yanks your hair backward, making you yelp in pain. He pulls you by your hair as he makes his way to the bed. He pushes you on the bed aggressively. "You are in trouble now,"

You feel fear creeping into your body, but at the same time, you can't deny the fact you are so aroused by the way he's treating you. "Tie her up Lucius, dirty sluts don't deserve to be touched, and touch anybody," Lucius obeys and crawls on top of you, flopping you on the pillows as he grabs your wrists with one hand and uses the other to tie your wrists to the headboard.

You press your lips together, desperately wish to be fucked but you know you are up for a very long night. Severus and Lucius smirk at your exposed body. "Are you going to do anything or you're just going to stare at my boobs?"

They thought you wouldn't dare, but you would definitely dare. "How dare you talk back? I thought Severus has fucked some manners into you. How wrong I was,"

"You see, Lucius, I have done it, but she is a brat. And brats never lose their attitude. Isn't that right, my disgusting harlot?"

"Apparently your 'lessons' weren't good enough, Severus," oh shit.

You don't know why you said it, but the second it got out of your mouth, you knew you have fucked up. "You talk too much," He spits at your face and walks to stand next to Lucius. Severus grabs the bag and opens it. He looks at the items in the bag, smirking devilishly as he thinks about how good he can punish you.

He pulls out a ball gag, taking you by surprise. "Since you don't shut up, I need to do it myself," He sits next to you on the bed as he tries to put on the gag in your mouth. You shake your head side to side, squirming under his hands. He slaps your cheeks again, making you moan in pain and pleasure. He takes advantage of your whining and pushes the ball into your mouth.

You look dead in his eyes, making him laugh harder than before. "Now now, let's see what has Lucius got for us in that useful bag,"

"Plenty of things, what do you want to do with her, Severus?"

"Oh I want to do so many things to her tonight, but let's start with a show now, shall we?" You don't know how but you guess with legilimency, Severus told about his first plan to Lucius cause Lucius' smirk turned into a grin and he started searching for something in the bag.

Your eyes widen when you see a purple dildo around 8 inches in Lucius's hand. Lucius tosses the dildo to Severus so he can do whatever he has planned with it. Severus pulls out his wand and points it at the dildo. "Wingarduim Leviosa" He levitates the dildo and directs it at your wet entrance, without warning he shoves all the 8 inches inside of you.

You moan around the gag as he pushes the dildo deeper into you. You shut your eyes, letting your walls adjust to the new feeling. "Open your eyes, hormonal bitch," You open your eyes and look at the men in front of you.

"Now let's put on a show for you, maybe then you'll learn to behave," He looks back at Lucius and flicks his wand. In a blink of an eye, Lucius is completely naked with his cock standing upright, leaking with pre-cum.

"Get. On. Your. Knees, Lucius,"

"What?! I won't-"

"Shut up and I get on your knees!"

"Yes,"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... sir,"

"That's better, now get on your knees,"

They don't even bother to look at your reaction. Your eyes are popping out, spit is running down your chin and a dildo is buried deep inside of you as you watch Severus dominates Lucius.

Lucius kneels in front of Severus, with his hands on his thighs. "Don't disobey me, Lucius, get on with it like a good boy," The way Severus is ruling Lucius around makes you dripping. Suddenly the dildo starts to shake and thrusts in and out of you.

You shut your eyes but Severus's voice makes you open them and look at Lucius who's working on Severus' belt. "Don't you dare close your eyes! You're going to sit and watch!"

You moan around the gag as the dildo's pace fastens. Lucius unbuckles Severus's belt and pulls down his pants with his boxers, freeing Severus's hard cock that is ready to burst at any second. Severus unbuttons his shirt as he steps out of his pants. Now he is completely naked and needy for Lucius to take him down his throat.

"You don't get to cum until I say so. Understood?" You nod your head eagerly, watching the two attractive men closely as the dildo brings you closer to your orgasm.

Lucius kisses up Severus's thighs, inching his face closer to his cock. Severus grabs his cock from the base and slaps Lucius's cheek with it. "Open up man whore, I wanna see your mouth full of my cock," If it wasn't because of the gag in your mouth, you would have screamed, because of the dildo and Severus's arousing words.

Lucius parts his lips, sticking his tongue out for Severus. Severus slaps his cock on his tongue, groaning at the feeling of Lucius's warm and welcoming mouth. With one forceful thrust, he shoves his full length in his mouth, taking Lucius off guard. Lucius chokes on his cock as Severus grabs a fistful of his hair in his hand.

"Relax your throat, my playboy, I'm gonna fuck your throat as that dirty wanton gets fucked by a fake dick," Lucius tries to breathe with his nose. Your legs start to shake as your inner walls clench around the plastic cock that's fucking you.

You moan loudly which is muffled by the gag. You try to keep your eyes open as your stomach tightens. "Are you going to cum?" Severus asks while he rocks his hips back and forth, fucking Lucius's throat slowly. You nod your head, waiting for his approval to let you cum. But he pulls out the dildo, making you whine as your orgasm fades away.

Severus bobs Lucius's head up and down his shaft, meeting his thrusts. The tip of his cock hits the back of his throat, making Severus groan loudly. Lucius closes his lips around his thick shaft, swirling his tongue around the base of Severus's cock making the man moan in pleasure.

Lucius hallows his cheeks, making a strong suction in his mouth. Severus's cock twitches in his mouth, and with a few more thrusts, Severus shoots his seeds in Lucius's mouth. Severus keeps Lucius's head down as he cums down his throat.

"Swallow, big boy," Lucius obeys and tries to swallow whatever he can. Severus pulls out of Lucius's mouth, watching his cum dripping down his chin. "Get up Lucius, that slut there needs to be punished," Lucius stands up with shaky legs, cock standing hard against his lower abdomen and dripping with pre-cum.

You watch them in awe. Lucius fucking Malfoy just swallowed Severus Snape's cum. This will be the night you will never forget. Not in the slightest!

As your mind is clouded with lust and the thoughts of the two men in front of you, you completely forget that they're going to punish you. You get out of your thoughts when you feel someone gets on the bed. You look at Lucius who has a leather whip in his hand.

With one swift movement, Severus turns you around and takes the gag off you. You try to stand still on your knees while your hands are twisted and still tied to the headboard. "Now, let's punish. After each whip, I want you to thank Lucius for punishing you,"

"Yes, sir,"

"Start, Lucius, and remember, do not be gentle," Lucius smirks and brings down the whip on your back, making you whine in pain and pleasure. You've never been whipped before, but the new feeling of pain mixed with pleasure is definitely something you would like to try later again.

"Thank you s-sir,"

Severus grabs your hair and yanks it backward, making you scream. "What for?"

"Thank you sir for punishing me!" You scream as Lucius brings the whip down again.

"That's right, take it Y/N. Take it like a good useless slut,"

Lucius whips your back again. Making you moan louder than before.

"T-thank you sir for p-punishing me,"

After 15 more whips, eventually, Lucius steps back. Your ass and back are covered in red lines. Severus traces his fingers on the red lines making you whine loudly.

"Now, let's reward Lucius. He was a really good boy for me, don't you think Y/N? I think he deserves to fuck this pretty pussy of yours."

"Yes sir, he deserves it,"

Severus turns you around again, laying you on your back which makes you hiss in pain. "You are going to have me down your throat while Lucius fucks your tight pussy, and you don't get to cum because it's your punishment,"

"Yes, sir,"

Severus puts his knees on each side of your head while he strokes his cock. Lucius spreads your legs and steps between them as he runs the tip of his cock between your wet folds. Without warning, Lucius shoves himself all the way inside of you. Your mouth hangs open as he starts thrusting in and out of you with a bruising pace.

Severus grabs his cock and slams himself in your hot mouth. Both men are groaning loudly while your screams are muffled by Severus's thick cock. Your eyes get watery as Severus slams himself into you, hitting the back of your throat. Lucius keeps crashing his hips to yours as the tip of his cock nudges your g-spot, making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

You feel Lucius throbs inside of you, but your orgasm is too close yet too far. You need more but you know that's the point of being punished. Severus's cock twitches in your mouth. You clench your walls around Lucius as the knot in your stomach tightens.

"So fucking tight, I can fuck you every day, every hour, and every second," Severus hums as his cock starts to twitches violently. He suddenly pulls out of your throat. "Pull out Lucius," Lucius groans in disapproval but pulls out nevertheless.

"Lay on your back and untie her, I want you to pound her tight walls while she's on top of you." Lucius obliges and unties your wrists, shifting you on top of him. He guides his cock back into your warm hole. You both moan as he fills you again, but this time, it's more pleasurable.

Lucius pulls you down for a kiss, nibbling your bottom lip as he bends his knee. He bucks his hips upwards, making you moan in his mouth. You grab his shoulders, digging your nails in his white flesh.

He starts pounding you without wasting time. You break the kiss to catch your breath but it's impossible cause Lucius's pace is heavenly. Your eyes roll back and you let your head fall on the crook of his neck.

Suddenly you feel another pair of hands on your hips. Lucius slows down, waiting to see what's going to happen. "Like I said Y/N, we're going to stretch your walls until you are ripped,"

You feel the tip of his cock at your already filled cunt. He pushes his cock into you slowly, careful not to hurt you. You try to slip out his cock by shifting forward but he grips your hips tighter. Lucius moans as Severus's cock rubs against his as he enters you.

You scream as you feel his whole cock inside of you. Severus lets out a throaty groan as the new feeling, you feel your walls getting ripped as you have two cocks in your tight hole. They let you adjust, waiting for your approval to start moving.

"Y-you can m-move now,"

That's enough for the two men to start thrust their hips into yours. Your head falls on Lucius's chest as their cocks rub against each other and your tight walls are sore and ready to clench around them.

This new feeling of fullness brings you closer to your orgasm. You feel your walls tighten around them which makes you scream in pleasure and the two men groan at the new space.

By now they are pounding you with all their strength. Your eyes roll back in your head as your mouth hangs open. You feel your stomach tightens as your release approaches. "I'm gonna cum!" You scream as you milk their cocks.

Lucius groans and grabs your breasts pinching your nails. "I'm cumming," He lets out a throaty moan and shoots his seeds in your womb. You feel Lucius's cock twitch and the warm feeling of his cum inside of you spreads in your belly.

Severus keeps slamming himself inside of you, but he doesn't last long either. He throbs in your cunt and with one powerful thrust he bursts inside of you. He groans your name as his grip on your hips tightens, enough to leave a mark.

He paints your walls with his white loads. Lucius and Severus's cock go soft in you and your bodies go limp on top of each other. They both pull out at the same time, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness.

Severus watches as the three of your cums mixed with each other drips out of your used and swollen hole. Severus lays down as Lucius helps you lay down between them.

Lucius turns to you as you try to catch your breath. "How do you feel? Do you need anything?"

"A glass of water would be nice," Lucius smiles and grabs a glass from the nightstand. He pours water for you and hands it to you. You gulp down slowly as you wipe the dried tears from your cheek.

You hand the glass back to Lucius and get u der the duvet. The two men follow your action closely. "I hope you've learned your lesson–" Severus's sentence is cut off with your soft snoring.

reblog if you’d like one of these in your inbox

- ask me things you want to know about me

- why you follow me

- what’s on your mind/what you’re thinking about

- a compliment

- make me choose between two things

- ask for advice

- tell me a secret

- things you associate me with

- anything!!!!

That was amazing😍😍

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

I can’t stop thinking about Hotch and pregnant!Reader! So if your requests are still open can I request soemthing with maybe Jack is visiting the office and he runs straight to you to say hi and then goes “hi baby” to your tum, but the team doesn’t know yet do you’re like 😳

nawwww 🥺

-

Jack sees through the glass doors, standing to the side of the bull pen, the moment he steps out of the lift with Aaron. It makes him smile and his eyes light up as he struggles against the weight of the glass door. It makes Aaron’s lips tilt in amusement, as he puts a hand on the metal handle, helping his son to push the door open, allowing both of them enough space to slip in.

“Hi baby,” he runs straight to you, throwing his arms around your body while pressing his cheek to your stomach, his little body vibrating with excitement.

“Are you?” You look up from the top of Jack’s head, replacing your gaze with a hand to ruffle his hair, to find each of the team staring at you, jaws slack and eyes wide. You feel the prickle of a blush heat up your face and you clear your throat awkwardly.

“We are,” you hear Aaron say, answering on behalf of your family, as he sidles up behind you, the back of your shoulder against his chest.

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze in a glance and smile as he places a hand on the small of your back.

Mmmmh... I'm speechless right now🙊🙊😈😈

cs55 - "Just sit down on it" smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, sauna sex, public sex (if you squint), riding carlos (he really wants you to), him worshiping you, creampie, cumplay

The delicious electricity is buzzing in your body of just being around Carlos. The air was tense, but in a good way, sucking all the oxygen out of your lungs. His eyes, dark and predator-like, were focused on you, as if you were a pretty deer in the headlights, and he was waiting to consume you. Carlos truly did consume you, but again, in the best way possible. You fell in love with him again every winter break, when his undivided attention was for you, when he was completely yours, his phone was off, and it was just the two of you. You felt the warmth blossoming in your chest at the thought of the past nights, spending the sunsets in the cabana, getting wine drunk and drunk on each other, which would start with innocent kisses and unfolded into the best sex of your life, every night.

Your thighs were even a little sore, the muscles in the back of your legs complaining a little when you hopped on the bike this afternoon. Anyone who looked closer could see the faint marks of his fingertips that had pressed into your hips so hard as he pulled you over his cock over and over again, watching you fall apart underneath him just to bury his mouth between your thighs after, having you make the prettiest sounds for him. The mere thought caused the goosebumps to rise upon your skin, even while the sauna was burning hot and droplets of sweat were rolling down your spine. You looked over your shoulder at Carlos, who was sitting back, thighs spread, arms behind the back of his head, his eyes still boring into yours, gliding over your body in the bikini.

The blue one was his favorite, not just because he was going to be dressed in blue from the start of the new season, but because the color looked so pretty on you. The small panties were tied together on either side of your hips, the top clinging to your tits in a way that never failed to make him hard. You finally made your way back to him, extending the second glass of wine you were carrying. Carlos took it from you, his other hand landing on his thigh, already expecting you to get into his lap. You easily slid onto his thighs, your hand landing on his chest. "Dame un beso, mi reina," he hummed, palm squeezing your thigh. "You use that so often on me and it still works," you sigh, your fingers trailing up his strong pecs, landing on the side of his neck.

His hair was salty, slicked back from moving his fingers through. He was so tan from just a week in the Maldives, it was nearly unfair. "I know it does," Carlos grins, his hand gliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, pulling you over his erection. The friction made you squirm a little, his hot breath ghosting over your face before your lips connected in a delicious kiss. In combination with the few sips of wine, your mind was already spinning, feeling the heat of his body against yours, his abs against your stomach, how big he was beneath you. And you were talking about not just his goodies, his whole body. You weren't exactly petite, but he made you feel that way, and you loved it.

Within a quick, cheeky move, the strings of your top were loosened, making you pull back from him and cover your tits with your arm. "There are people around," you tssk. "They can look away if it bothers them. Or stay watching," Carlos simply replies, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it, moving your arm away from your chest, eyes dropping to your hardened nipples. "That's sooo naughty," you whisper, earning a low chuckle and another kiss. His hips buck up slightly, drawing a whine from your throat as his other hand put down the glass of wine, pulling on the flimsy panties, intensifying the friction on your clit. "Look who's talking," Carlos teases, leaving hot, open mouth kisses on your neck.

You could taste the wine on his tongue when your lips connected again, his tongue licking into your mouth. Your hips rolled down on him, feeling him grow in his shorts. Carlos' fingertips slipped inside your panties, rubbing circles over your clit and spreading the slick wetness that was leaking from your pussy. His other hand moved into the hair in the nape of your neck, teeth nipping at the skin of your throat while you whimpered. "Ride me?" his voice rasped in your ear. "You're insane," you reply, your hand sliding down his abs, finding his happy trail that led your fingers to the waistband of his shorts. "Solo para ti." His pupils are blown when you look into his eyes, lips parting with a soft breath as your hand wraps around the girth, thumb spreading the precum over the fat head of his cock.

His thighs spread a little further when your hand starts to jerk him off, the sight causing the butterflies to flutter around in your stomach. Everything about him is so beautiful, so manly, so hot. You gnaw at your bottom lip as you look at his cock, the rip red and eager, the vein on the underside throbbing at the touch of your hand. "Mi amor..." Carlos complained, leaning forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, both hands grabbing your ass to hurry you over him. "Just sit down on it," he groaned, making you giggle a little. Carlos shoves your panties aside, and you raise your hips, slowly sliding down on his cock. The stretch is amazing every time, pushing against the walls of your pussy, nearly splitting you in half. Carlos moans at the feeling of being completely inside you, his eyes zoning in on where he fills you up.

His hand brushes over your lower abdomen, pressing against where the tip of his cock was bulging. "Feel me there, hmm?" his voice rasps. "Fuck me," you whine, giving him a high-pitched moan as he slaps your ass. There's a sly smile on your face, damn well knowing he wants you to do the work. You slowly start moving your hips, sliding your cunt up and down his cock, sucking him and gripping him tightly to feel all the ridges and veins. He feels so good. Your palms press firmly against his shoulders, nails biting at his skin. The clip that held your hair up had fallen out when his hands ruined your pretty updo. "Te ves tan bonita así, fuck," Carlos cursed under his breath, watching your tits bounce in his face. One of his hands groped them, thumb rolling over your nipple, watching your head roll back with a moan.

He looked up at you with dark, hazed eyes, leaned back to watch you properly, drinking you in, loving - worshiping, what he was seeing. Your toes curled as you ground your hips firmly down on him, finding an angle that made him hit your g-spot perfectly. Carlos' fingers slotted around your hips again, helping you up and down his cock as he felt you squeezing him. He got lost in how good you felt, how slick, warm and wet your pussy was, the obscene sounds that bounced off the walls in the sauna. A few strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, which you slicked back with your fingers, his hair damp with sweat. His body was glowing, muscles prominent. You could feel him tense up under your touch, his breathy grunts telling you he was just as close as you were.

"Shit," you muttered, feeling his thumb rubbing firm circles over your clit again. Carlos started meeting your thrusts, hands pawing at your hips to keep you close. "You're crazy," you moan, knowing it wouldn't take long before he'd fill you with his cum. The thought of doing this, semi-publicly, made him throb inside you, especially as he knew you'd have to walk back to the cabana after. The image of his cum dripping down your thighs nearly made him go feral. You didn't even try to push away, you gladly let him slip into you deeply, a few more circles of his thumb on your clit letting you spiral into the most delicious orgasm. You looked down at him as he came, his abs contracting, eyes screwed shut. You admire him for a couple of seconds, moving your hands up his chest again before cupping his face.

"You make me want to bite you," you sigh. "In a good way," you add, nipping at one of his beefy biceps. "If you want me to eat you, you can just ask," Carlos says, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I'll double it and give it to myself later," you muse, toying with the hair in the nape of his neck. You swivel your hips slightly, making him groan. "There are no people in line to use this sauna, right?" you ask, looking over your shoulder before getting off his lap, kneeling between his thighs. Your teeth bite into his equally beefy thighs, satisfied when a smirk shows up on his handsome face. His cock throbs when your lips come near it, blood rushing south again when your hand wraps around it. "Talk about crazy," he sighs, head lulling back when your mouth takes him in.

I want it🥺🥺😍😍

pov: waking up with aaron hotchner

Words to describe facial expressions

Absent: preoccupied 

Agonized: as if in pain or tormented

Alluring: attractive, in the sense of arousing desire

Appealing: attractive, in the sense of encouraging goodwill and/or interest

Beatific: blissful

Black: angry or sad, or hostile

Bleak: hopeless

Blinking: surprise, or lack of concern

Blithe: carefree, lighthearted, or heedlessly indifferent

Brooding: anxious and gloomy

Bug eyed: frightened or surprised

Chagrined: humiliated or disappointed

Cheeky: cocky, insolent

Cheerless: sad

Choleric: hot-tempered, irate

Darkly: with depressed or malevolent feelings

Deadpan: expressionless, to conceal emotion or heighten humor

Despondent: depressed or discouraged

Doleful: sad or afflicted

Dour: stern or obstinate

Dreamy: distracted by daydreaming or fantasizing

Ecstatic: delighted or entranced

Faint: cowardly, weak, or barely perceptible

Fixed: concentrated or immobile

Gazing: staring intently

Glancing: staring briefly as if curious but evasive

Glazed: expressionless due to fatigue or confusion

Grim: fatalistic or pessimistic

Grave: serious, expressing emotion due to loss or sadness

Haunted: frightened, worried, or guilty

Hopeless: depressed by a lack of encouragement or optimism

Hostile: aggressively angry, intimidating, or resistant

Hunted: tense as if worried about pursuit

Jeering: insulting or mocking

Languid: lazy or weak

Leering: sexually suggestive

Mild: easygoing

Mischievous: annoyingly or maliciously playful

Pained: affected with discomfort or pain

Peering: with curiosity or suspicion

Peeved: annoyed

Pleading: seeking apology or assistance

Quizzical: questioning or confused

Radiant: bright, happy

Sanguine: bloodthirsty, confident

Sardonic: mocking

Sour: unpleasant

Sullen: resentful

Vacant: blank or stupid looking

Wan: pale, sickly

Wary: cautious or cunning

Wide eyed: frightened or surprised

Withering: devastating

Wrathful: indignant or vengeful

Wry: twisted or crooked to express cleverness or a dark or ironic feeling

This one is majestic 💖💖🤤🤤 Thanks @rivierasunsetdiner

From 2 to 3 (hotch x fem!reader)

Sequel to The Only Heartbreaker Find snippet here

Summary: Hotch has a steady grip on his life. All measured and predictable. Then one morning in the cold, frigid air of the Alaskan landscape, daylight pours in through the opened windows of his hotel room. His eyes still shut, the sunrays warm up his face despite the lilac breeze. He finds himself with a bedmate but cannot recall the night before. (Also:) After a bad case that leaves you wounded, Hotch and you are scared to cross into 'otherness'.

Tags: daddy issues package, angst w happy ending, angst and fluff, pining, comfort, pushing the agenda that hotch is an acts of service kinda guy, age gap, yearning, longing, hurt/ comfort, protective hotch, soft hotch, the great alaskian landscape for some reason, and summer as a motif, ONE BED trope, a lot of dialogue ngl

notes: no tw! hey all - not really a comeback when idk what THIS is but i been listenin to a lot of peach pit and mitski *once this was named Heat Lightning - and it's all fluff and HOTCH pov, after the events of the only heartbreaker. Some flashbacks. some longing. Some utter nonsense of dialogue tbh sry for grammar errors if any! and sry if this incoherent lmaooo <3 ALSO love being surrounded by friends and a community of creators whose work i love sm - and who in turn inspires me to create. sth i didnt think i had it in me anymore lol but ! lemme know if this work was anything

WC: 7k approx

---------------

Hotch has a firm grip on the events in his life. He is a father; was a fair husband until he wasn’t, and he is a regular at all the establishments he frequents: grocery store, coffee shop, bakery, butcher's, farmer’s market; and he has a strict regiment for exercise and pastimes. All to counteract the unpredictability of his work. It didn’t start this way. Naturally, his position came later and then his attitude: sort of a chicken and an egg situation. Except, people who’ve known him longer than the job – which coincidentally happens to be in a disproportionate ratio to those who know him because of it – would argue that he’s always been like this.

A firm, steady hold on his life. In control.

His work seems to test him on that every single day without fail. If it’s not a murder case, or a kidnapping, then it’s a bomb threat – New York still not the same for him but he’s managed to take a hold on the inevitable, unconscious reactions of his body to the city’s name, after some laborious practice. If it’s not that either, then it is an event that leaves one of his agents seriously harmed in the middle of the day.

Strauss casually reminds him of the last one some days, like she means to make sure he’s not as damaged as one should be after everything he's already endured.

And yet, he’s doing okay. If he were the type to do so, he’d wave a hand in the air dismissing it all: firm, strong grip, of course.

Then one morning in the cold, frigid air of the Alaskan landscape, daylight pours in through the opened windows of his hotel room. His eyes still shut, the sunrays warm up his face despite the breeze bringing in chilled air.

He stirs, something tickling his nose. He huffs out, wanting to blow away whatever irritation that is. It drifts away, settling stubbornly on his chin this time. Refusing to wake up just yet, he decides to move it away but his arms are occupied. His body cocooned under the pile of blanket and duvet, weighed down by a bed-mate, hands firm around the stranger.

No wonder he’s not freezing, he realizes, glancing down in surprise. A handful of naked thigh muscle over one of his legs keeps him locked in, and his other hand is settled precariously close to a chest.

She is sprawled atop him, gently snoozing into the crook of his neck. His eyebrows shoot up, and he tries – and fails – to remember how he’s ended up here. How she did.

He must have gotten uncharacteristically drunk last night. All he remembers is spending the late hours with the team, some jokes from Rossi and Garcia over who in their gracious mind would return to this state due to the temperatures. He must have picked up someone at the bar they were in. It wasn’t anything spacious like in big cities, but a new face could have been exciting for some. It isn’t customary to drink either. Too many issues over dehydration, and how alcohol isn’t factually a good alternative to the cold, and ultimately a prevention for alcoholism as there are no nearby addiction treatment facilities (– he remembers the speech from Reid, but not the woman in his bed?) but there had been booze on their table last night.

Albeit not plenty...

Hotch refocuses. He must have made a move on someone. Or the opposite, most likely. Though he’s done little of any of this in recent months. Quite a long while, if he has to measure it . Not since you started out teasing him with small innocuous innuendos, tying up his libido in knots.

He frowns at the top of his bed partner’s hair, beautiful and shining, but he doesn’t remember anything. Your hair is the same color and length, he thinks uneasily. Maybe that’s why the woman in his arms had his attention last night. He reluctantly releases her… waist , and reaches to brush her hair away from his face. It smells like that first bite of a summer fruit; like the air sticky sweet with anticipation of the season; like it could be the last thing he tastes and takes in for the entirety of his life. Something uncomfortably familiar to it he cannot name.

He reaches down and gently lifts her hand where it rests over his torso. Intent on studying it almost clinically but finds at once he doesn’t need to. Not when slender, long fingers, palm calloused in the same spots his weathered ones are – from carrying guns and handcuffs – shed light to the identity of his bed partner. Partner , he corrects. Just work partner. A noise startles out of him. It rises a groan out of her, that even though he should be restricting causes something else in his body to stir awake.

“Chilly”, she rasps, and lifts her face to look at him through blurry eyes. He knows those eyes, though they’re calculative and sharp, teasing too when they’re directed at him. He knows those delicate features of her face too.

You.

You both stare.

The moment stretches. Limbs become aware. Bare skin prickles with a million buzzing needles wherever skin is in contact. Fuck, he breathes out as evenly as possible, he doesn’t remember a time where he’s felt so much all at once. The open window is reprieve to the perspiration appearing at his temples and neck.

And then it isn’t a relief anymore when a hammering from outside barges rudely inside, shattering the silence. You yelp, and he sucks in a sharp breath, both drawing even closer in confusion.

Hotch slides his hand from the heat of your thigh to your back, cradling your body against his. You both wait, ears perked up and high alert.

The hammering continues rhythmically, before turning into a splintering sound, echoing outside. People huff and puff and it starts up again. He relaxes, the noise becoming un-dangerous to your safety.

“Someone’s chopping wood”, you offer meeting his eyes. The sudden movement has made the blanket slip from your shoulder, baring it to the room. “Cold”, you murmur again.

A shiver courses through you and a fierce, protective feeling in him makes him forget all the million questions in his mind. He’s quick to pull the blanket over you. He even has the reflex to look around the room for something warmer. The surest way is to climb out of bed, and shut the window – he’s fortunate to find he has pajama bottoms on. The outside finally kept out, he strides to the hearth of the room and lights up the fireplace.

It doesn’t take long for the space to fill with warmth, and for it, a strange sense of pride settles in. Like he’s procuring for the basics – like the first men to discover caves and fire and the length they’ll go to sacrifice for the protection of a loved one. Take his health of mind for instance. He has to try to grasp how you’ll react, already prepared to lie and conform to whatever you decide on this .

“Thanks”, your voice is a mere whisper, and he stops thinking. With the small size of the hotel and the limited number of rooms, he hadn’t expected them to be comfortable and cozy. His bed is large, larger than the one he has at home, so the sight of you right in the middle, hair splayed over the pillow he’d slept on these last few days, and hugging  the sheets to your chest…

Hotch has the oddest feeling of… he doesn’t know how to describe it. 

Your cheeks look puffy, colored with warmth, and hair messy almost like ran through gentle fingers. Something blooms in his chest. He’s never felt anything like it. But he recognizes it is laced with something eerily similar to relief.

You clear your throat, and he reaches for the pitcher of water over the table. He pours a glass for you and then downs one himself. He toes on the complementary slippers and glances around. The window had been left open and the dozen of blankets say the opposite – though he knows he runs hot after drinking. His collared shirt and suit jacket are haphazardly thrown over a chair, his shoes by the door. Yours too, though there is a clear trail of your garments littering the floor, leading from the door to his bed, discarded as if in a hurry to more relevant things. A wave of heat crawls up his spine and he casts his eyes to the opposite side of the room.

How can he not recall? It hardly seems…fair.

Hotch turns back to look at you, the surprise on your face not hiding your own study of the room.

“What happened last night?”, he simply asks.

You draw in a shaky breath. “Do you not remember either?”

He walks to your side of the bed, sits beside you and offers the glass.

The proximity doesn’t make you as jumpy as before, though it’s the first time he’s the one making the distance between you two. Whether out on a case, or back at the office – wherever and whenever, as if it was a second nature to you – he is the one relying on you making the first move and approaching him. It had been almost funny the first few times it happened. You’d just been hired as a replacement for JJ – another kid on the way right after her second – but instead of attempting to make friends with the group you’d bantered with him.

Out of everyone.

“ You’d think this would be easy, no?”, you’d muttered under your breath, right in front of the police captain in Ohio – or had it been Oklahoma? – and your face so serious and professional Hotch had thought he’d imagined the words. Dead in his tracks, he’d stopped to peer down at you by his right.

It had been mid-June. The exhaustion of a humid day spent over casefiles weighing Hotch’s soul – almost like the first heat spike right after spring. Heavy. Draining. And more to go. Dressed to the nines in a suit like you’re the unit chief, you’d show up at the office on your first day a bit over-eager to start. Hair away from your face. But the top of your nose and cheeks are a different tint of color, sunburnt though he knows the unit you transferred from allows vacation days as much as the BAU. Not even a hint of a polite smile when you’d shaken his hand. Neat, polished, tidy – Hotch had thought: There’s an agent who knows how to be professional.

In Ohio or Oklahoma – you'd angled your body a bit like a bodyguard towards him. A certain stance you never seemed to drop, as familiar to him as if you’d always been there. Funny how that seemed to happen too. Shorter than Hotch, smaller in stature, but as feral as you’d been having a stare off with a criminal. Funnily protective.

“Excuse me?” Hotch had cleared his throat.

“Cops?”, you’d said in a serious tone, “you give them a donut and coffee and surely that means the work is done?”

His gaze had followed yours to where other police officers were gathered, with boxes of take out and pasty shops had been discarded over a meeting room table. As if the BAU and Hotch personally hadn’t requested files necessary for the case they were there to help with.

A kid caught for misbehavior, Hotch had looked up in shock but the police captain had no ears for your jokes – not that he had any during the whole speech he had given him over not antagonizing victims. Victims, for god’s sake. You’d scoffed that out too. (Hotch remembers).

“What?”

You’d rolled your eyes. An uptick of your lips and the smallest scrunch of your nose. “I’m just messing around.” He had nodded, flabbergasted, but had paused when he’d seen you pull out something from your pocket.

“Figs”, he’d stared down at your hands clasped together. Carefully wrapped in towels, you offer him fresh figs which you'd untucked individually before handing one to him. The interviews you’d both done this morning in a white suburb had brought you through gardens and parks and playgrounds. Wives and mothers had gravitated to you first, like in any case as this one. Accommodating you especially with teas and lemonades and fresh fruits.

“I usually eat them whole”, your knuckles had covered the bounty, hiding it away from the captains and the precinct. Voice a whisper, you had leaned in, your elbow brushing against his.

He had a white collared shirt on, sleeves rolled up, while you had long shed the suit jacket in favor of commodities. “But you peel like this”, thumbs together you had teared at the unblemished skin of the savory fruit. It had pulled apart, thin and flimsy as you explained how the color of it signified an early season picking. Then once satisfied, and with fingers stained, you had popped the whole thing in your mouth. The grin that had followed was mischievous, but it was accompanied with a slight crease of your brows.

“Not ripe”, you had given your verdict, “but I was dying to try them out. Now, I know and I’ll be back to buy them once they’re ready”

His own fig had come apart in his hands, but he scooped it all up and chewed quickly. It had been years – an eternity even – since the last time he had been this keen and appeased by stolen fruits. Sweeter than he remembered, more so than what yours must have been.

The third fig you had eaten raw. A quick flicker of your brows up and wide, daring him to say something in reaction as you swallowed. Then you scrubbed your hands clean with the towels before resuming your previous position. Seriousness and professionalism once more, and the captain had re-approached like nothing’s occurred. No testimonies or evidence as you hid your tracks too.

“You’ve got a little something there”, you had pointed with the tip of your pinkie at your cupid’s brow, not looking back at Hotch. He had gotten the cue a bit late, but then followed - swiping at the same spot on his mouth, without realizing his gaze intent on yours. The clear sticky substance had been scrubbed off just in time.

Then a split second before the captain opened his mouth, your last words had swooped in like a heatwave.

“Not a lipstick stain and unfortunately harder to explain” The consequences it left seemed to remain for long, not bound by the weather. He paid half a mind to your following statement.

“ – Captain! Shall we insist again on how not trivial it is not to dismiss the statements of the civilians...”

The glass of water still full to the brim doesn’t spill over even with his hasty movements.

He swallows thick before asking, “Did we…?”

You take the glass from him, tilting it and refusing to respond – your face going beet-red. Hotch smothers a smile. Water slips from the side of your mouth and he fists his hands, the inanest, strangest desire to clean it up with a thumb resurfacing.  You slam the glass to the bedside table with purpose and swipe at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“No”, you let out, breaths irregular, but voice not as raspy as before. As you settle into a proper sitting position, the sheet drop to your collarbones, held by your arms.

He's mesmerized by the movement, like he hadn't experienced the same privileges as that sheet moments before.

“I think I’d remember”, you shrug.

No, he almost corrects aloud, he’d remember and never permit himself to forget.

He stands abruptly, feeling parched. Fills another two glasses with the jug of water and looks down at the quarter zip you’d donned the night before, now lying at the foot of his bed.

“I don’t remember a thing”, he admits, frowning at the garment.

“Last thing I recall,” you glance back at the door, “Was Derek pulling out that bottle of absinthe in his room.”

Hotch winces. That seems to be his last memory too, even though he’d given the other man a look of disapproval.

“We each drank some but Reid started on his monologue again and we ended up playing cards”, you raise your eyebrows and he nods, understanding that the bottle had been then forgotten for the game. Yet after 3 sleepless nights chasing a lead from the Cyber Unit, they’d all felt restless, tired, and drunk without drinking. Exhaustions of the likes he hadn’t experienced since law school.

He would have been used to the feeling but now finds himself out of his depth.

Just as fiercely as you’d broached the subject, you look away from him, and move again. He recognizes the look on your face. Something of a realization, he notes.

“I, uh,” your voice is a timid whisper, “My leg doesn’t ache”

Hotch blinks. “What?”

“Extreme temperatures make my bullet wound ache”, you reach for a hair tie by the bedside table. It’s mingled with his personal belongings: his wristwatch, a pen and notebook he keeps when he cannot sleep because of late night work observations he writes down, and the silver cuffs of his button-downs. With two steady hands you gather all your hair away from your face and into a tight ponytail. “My surgeon said I would always be a little sensitive and I usually take numbing pills”

Something akin to regret ignites in his chest. The day he’d beheld you bleeding out, gunshot wound to your leg, had been the longest day of his life. That was nothing to wait in the hospital.

He’s unconsciously moved closer, clearing the distance once again. Any shame he’d felt over the situation you’ve both found yourselves in dissipates.

The back-to-back cases surely have not helped. They’d gone from Florida, hot and humid and unbearably long summer nights, to a case in Alaska. Case after case like usual, but then he’d asked the team if they’d rather take a few days off – all unanimously agreed they’d rather hop to the other flight.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he stops himself from offering comfort, your leg propped up under the covers. He belatedly recognizes it had been the same one holding him down while sleeping, as if both your bodies remembered the transaction of comfort – offering and seeking it – without preamble.

You wince, “It’s my responsibility. I don’t want to be an influence on the decision-making of the team.” Yet you still seek to bring levity. “Wouldn’t want to sway the vote. It wouldn’t be fair to the rest when you would have held me to different standards, boss ”

“I already do”, he confesses softly, and watches with satisfaction as the words brighten up your face, the same way it makes you shy away. Yet as much as he’d prefer to make you see the truth, clear as the snow outside, he redirects.

“I’d rather you’d told me. We might have been better off another night in Florida”

“In that motel room?” you echo, brows up, “Are you kidding me? I slept with moths and mosquitoes in my room. I’ll let you know I didn’t impact that building’s electricity bill at all. I shouldn’t have even paid since the showers were inhumanely hot too.”

Surely that had been the deciding factor for all of them to want to leave Florida at once in favor of Alaska.

“I didn’t even sleep well”, you say under your breath, and cross your arms before you, frowning. “If anything I would have left Florida even if you’d said the case was in Antarctica”

He watches with amusement as you finally meet his eyes. Once unable to do so, after the place you’d both found yourselves in, your gaze is challenging again. Teasing.

“Are you telling me you had a better time in Florida?”

“It was fine”, he says, not admitting to anything.

You sigh, no smile yet so he continues.

“It was humid but we did have air conditioning—”

“Yes,” you murmur talking over him, “one in 3 rooms had it and my room wasn’t the lucky one.”

Hotch goes on, unaffected, “-- and Derek bought those tablets for insects to install in the room. If you’d only plugged one in a socket…”

You lean forward, to be heard though your voice doesn’t raise in volume, “The rechargeable night light which doubled as a pesticide? Which smelled like chemicals and expired?”

“And even the quality of the motel wasn’t up to perfect standards the restaurant nearby was satisfactory,” He has to stifle the smile that wants to escape. You fully sit up this time, the tiniest wince shadowing your face as you switch into sitting cross-legged and move even closer, arms falling away at your sides.

“ You mean the restaurant which was open from 11am until 3pm and then only two hours at dinner time? The only restaurant open for miles in that location?”

“The food was good – great even.” Hotch insists, “ Someone even called it a contender for Michelin stars”

Your right hand curled into a fist lands on top of his knee. “Why did you have to remember that? I mentioned it once. In passing.”

One of his brows shoots up, but he doesn’t smile just yet. It would be admitting defeat – your positions switched whenever you both argue over something.

Your smile, on the contrary, is tentative. Triumphant even, the minute he notices a memory flash in your head.

“Remember the second night?” He halts as you speak, and in retrospect that is a mistake. Finally all attention is on you. “When you suggested we order take out from there?”

How could he not remember when he had gotten the urge, for the first time in his life, to walk back to the establishment and demand his dinner – which had arrived in the little boxes all scattered and pressed as if someone had sat on them before the delivery driver had handed them out to Derek. He’d even considered Yelp and one-star reviews. The sudden burst of anger was so cataclysmic that of course, you’d notice first.

It had been you who’d marched back to the building and said no more than a few impolite words. You’d both agreed to pretend like Hotch hadn’t joined in halfway into that speech.

“Don’t”, he warns, “Don’t bring it up”

Your attempt at appearing formal falls short, immediately, because your hair comes apart from the strict do. Wild strands frame the sides of your neck and cheeks, and that same sunburnt look graces your face.

“But I will,” you argue, your fist bumping three times over his knee to punctuate your words, “Nothing to complain – my butt.” An indignant scoff, “ You wanted to flee Florida faster than the rest of us. If you hadn’t been already around us, having that phone call, I’m certain you would have called the pilot first to give commands to Alaska.”

The sheet and the duvet and any semblance of a cover have been forgotten. They never even cross your mind as you’re in a full-blown out winning argument – gesticulating with arms and body.

“I know with goddamned certainty you would have walked into the cockpit and turned that plane around if we had been mid-flight too.”

“I’m not a pilot”, he offers, his one-track mind diverted. Your shoulders are bare to the air. Thin straps pool at the sides, right next to the sheet at your biceps . Bare, he realizes, his mouth dry. Unlike him clad in pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt, you seem to be the opposite. A fire tendril reminds him of the state of your leg too – his palm had been wrapped up comfortably over bare thigh not as if he’d urged the position but had found comfort in discovering it there. Had made sure it didn’t move back.

“I’m not so certain that is the truth.” You spearhead the argument, unencumbered. “That there might even be a field you know nothing of – seems impossible to me.”

The last trail of decency perspires with his sanity of mind – the cover slipping further below your collarbones.

Hotch calls your name with gentle urgency, and tears his eyes away from yours at once.

Not before he notices the heat spreading across the unblemished skin. Neck and top of your chest – apparently they get sunburned too.

“Oh,” your breath is a shiver. He feels it from the head of his hair to the tip of his toes. “Sorry”

Your knuckles stay over his leg, while the other pulls up the sheet. He feels your eyes on him still, and the tension that fills the air is unlike the one before. Awkward and stifling.

His voice sounds foreign in the room. “Are you…”

“No”, you let out at once, “I have shorts on and well… a stupid goddamn tank top.” You tuck back up the thin straps, frustrated and breathing heavy.

“God, I’m sorry again”

He turns sensing something else in your voice: hurt.

“Nothing to be sorry about”, he reassures, “nothing at all”

“Easy to say,” you mumble, “when you’re the one in decent clothing.”

“You are too”, he says with some fight, not allowing you to reprimand yourself.

“Come on,” you murmur, staring at your hand over his leg, “We haven’t even gone swimming together. Not sure anyone is meant to see this much from a coworker before.” Your tone of voice chokes him up, “Thought bleeding out and clothes teared at the back of an ambulance was going to be the height of it.”

A reflex as normal as breathing, Hotch reaches for your hand, clasps it over his knee. He must be the only one who feels the jolt of the touch. Pushes through it because he won’t ever let you spiral into the dark motions of insecurity and shame.

You’d had this discussion more times than a few. A wound as the one you’d bared was no easy feat. Not only did it impact your job for months, having you stationed in the office and out of the field. It has done a number on your self esteem too. The health counselor had helped you come to terms with associating the value you bring at work with the one you hold within yourself.

Hotch had been unaware of the fight going inside you at the time. Some of the frustration had been angled towards him too, being the unit chief and the one commanding your stay-in. That was, until one late night Friday, he'd ordered you to stay seated after everyone had left, and he’d come clean about New York.

Hotch had never brought up New York in the months and years that followed. Not even to the people that had saved his life: Derek and Penelope. The ones who’d seen him bleed and scream, shrapnel on his skin after the SUV he was supposed to get in with Kate had exploded before the two of them.

He wasn’t sure Penelope even knew how long he’d clung unto Kate’s hands, after. Derek had because he’d been the one to pull him up, firm hands under his elbows.

Hotch watches the emotions on your face play out with the story unraveling.

He would have liked to lie until death if possible, never wanting to bear having you see him as anything else but frail and vulnerable. But that hadn’t seemed to help you and he was at wit’s end. Dark undereye circles and similar body exhaustion – Hotch had been feeling the consequence of you pulling away from his companionship.

“I don’t know what to say”, you conclude after minutes in silence. The air conditioning in the building had been shut off; the entire office was dull.

Hotch stares down at his empty hands, the memory of holding you in them long vanquished.

“There is nothing to say”, he inhales deeply, “I was reminded of it because Strauss requested I attend a conference in NYC next month.”

“Shit,” you shake your head, your hands over the table slightly trembling. “I can’t stand her”

Hotch smiles.

“Can’t someone else go? Can’t you miss it?”

He shrugs. “It wouldn’t serve me any good in the long term.” He leans over the table, his voice conspiratorial, “It’s a large piece of land with five boroughs – the jet would have to land there sometime.”

“Right,” you nod. He stands up before he feels compelled to confess other vulnerabilities. You do the same, both mutually agreeing not to bring it up.

He'd thought for sure that had been in it but a month later, inside the elevator, you’d broached the topic.

“Are you meant to head out alone?”

His gaze pans to yours.

“To New York?”

“No”, he replies.

You nod, staring at the doors, before turning to him to ask, “You leave on the 11 th ?”

“Yes”

“Count me in, then. I’ll bring my paperwork with me.”

Surprise and a tinge of something else but he hadn’t argued back.

Months later, you’d willingly knocked on the bedroom door out in another state, everyone getting ready to pack and leave after the case had been solved successfully.

Your second one back in the fieldwork. Surprisingly for him, you’d followed all his orders to not strain yourself. Closer to Rossi and Reid, helping with their work in different precincts. Conducting interviews and examinations, and around more people than precedent.

“I don’t know how to act like before”, you lean back against his door frame, voice a muddled whisper, rivaling the noise of the heater he’s yet to turn off. The air is stale inside the bedroom. Dusty furniture and nothing remarkable apart from the fact he’s the one occupying it.

He finishes zipping up his go-bag, throws it further over the made bed but doesn’t turn around; overly familiar with the hardship of opening up to someone while looking into their eyes.

“I don’t think I used to be careless or freer before- before the shooting”, a soft, subdued bump, your body slumped against the door, eyes almost closed. “I didn’t think there would be anything different about me – people get shot all the time in our line of work but I am different.”

At the silence, Hotch turns to sit down at the corner, elbows over his thighs. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling different.”

“That’s just it, right? It could have been worse…should have been. I know how lucky I am.” The hurt in your gaze is not hidden. “That’s why I feel so stupid to say this now—” a gulp, “I’m acutely aware of my leg”

Hotch pauses. “Aware?”

He meets your gaze though he doesn’t find amusement there, only the echo of regret, guilt and sorrow.

“It’s as if everywhere I go or what-whatever I wear, my leg has been painted red and everyone can see it. As if I’m carrying with me a marker that tells everyone how much I was hurt or that I’m not the same”

You cross the floor of his bedroom and perch on the other corner of the bed, leaving the door wide open.

“Physical therapy helped with being back on the field and retrieving my stamina. Then again…”

You mimic his position, and look down at your feet - at the phantom of the bullet wound on your thigh. Hotch hadn’t left your side in the hospital. He hadn’t dared to when he’d never felt fright like the one that day. He hadn’t reeled it in either. Long stays by your bed after recovery, talks with the nurses and doctors, and when you weren’t on painkillers or somber – you’d both act like him holding your hand in his, chatting about easy things was normal.

The wound had brought you closer for a few weeks, until therapy began, and until he made it clear you were not to return to work for some time  Until the reminder that he is your boss froze the progress made.

Anger and frustration built and it eased up only after the talk on New York.

Still. None of you dare touch the other. Funny that, Hotch thinks, staring back at his hands. He’s come to terms that he might have just pictured it all in his head.

“I’m doing good mentally”, you say convincingly, hands moving as you gesture. “There are no more nightmares or panic attacks. I’m good in that respect.”

“If anything I feel more regulated now, with the tools I have on how to deal with a bad case or another bad scenario. I just…”

“Just?” He pushes a little.

You push your hands through your hair, remaking a ponytail and then giving up, fingers unsteady. “I feel hideous.”

The turn to watch him is so quick, Hotch equates it to the same reflexes out in the field. As if he would laugh or be insensitive to your feelings.

“I can’t look at myself in the mirror”, you swallow thickly, “For god’s sake I can’t wear dresses anymore”

You disguise the tremble in your voice with a laugh. “I know it’s stupid in the grand scheme of things. You can say so. It’s all in my head.”

You slap your hands over your knees and stand. “Well. Thanks for hearing me out. It’s not New York 2.0 at least.”

“Wait—"

All those hesitations that had frozen Hotch into place fall away. You stare at his hand clasped around your wrist, pleading with you not to leave. Another minutiae reflex.

 “Hotch, I’m fine”, the words in your mouth wobble and face to face he finally notes the tears gathered in your eyes.

“Thank you for telling me what you’re going through,” he rushes out first, “However unimportant you think it is, I always, always value what you share.”

You bite your lip, frowning so not to cry. His hand traces back to hold yours steadily, his thumb making soft circles over your knuckles.

“You went through something traumatic.” Fuck, he did too, that day. “Give yourself some time”

You sigh, your shoulders slumping further. “Sure, Hotch. Time is all I have as a medicine lately.”

Your fingers squeeze his before tugging you tug your hand away. You give him a weak smile. “I hope it fixes my self esteem too eventually, when I think nobody finds me attractive anymore--”

“But you are.” Hotch stands abruptly, and he doesn’t think before he blurts. “You’re a beautiful woman”

The stance you’re both in – close but not too much, a stand-down but not technically one, both of you frowning and looking almost angry at one another – might appear to an outsider as if you’re both arguing. Even in the back of the ambulance, you’d fought all the way.

“Hotch…”, your voice is a warning, and you’re about to roll your eyes – he can tell. “Honestly, this is all…nice, but I wasn’t looking for fake compliments”

You grimace when he doubles down. “Fake?” he sputters. “Fake? You think I’d lie about this?”

“Come on…”

“I don’t let out vacuous words.”

“Yes, when you’re on the job or whatever but I’d rather you not give me empty flattery…”

“I am being honest”

“I doubt it’s the same as when you pointed out Spencer’s awful new haircut…”

“I mean it”

Your reaction – a scoff and a glower – makes him fight harder. The anger climbing up his bloodstream is inane. It makes his entire body overheat.

“How about you tell me?” He pulls you in swiftly, a quick gasp parting your mouth open. His intense eyes meet yours – narrowing. The tears in yours dry out as you gaze up at him. “Tell me if I’m being dishonest with you: you’re the single most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life”

Those eyes of yours – the color sometimes sprouting up in his dreams when he couldn’t sleep – meet his mouth for a fraction of a second before darting away. Blush dusts your cheeks and your legs wobble.

His heart does the strangest thing: starting up a new hurried rhythm.

“So? What’s the verdict?”

You clear your throat and straighten, extracting your hand from his grip. “Truth”

You put a step between each other. “Thank you”, you mumble, “but you don’t have to do that”

The fire from the fight – or maybe your presence - had ignited in him still but he wants it to die down quicker than this. “What was the solution, angel? Let you doubt yourself?”

 Even regret, he’ll battle if he has to, though his own is more due to his poor memory.

“I don’t mind at all, angel,” he says softly. Sweet as you look right now, he feels weak to his bones. Thus he bites his tongue, omitting just how beautiful he finds you right now.

“Good,” you reply, blushing “good then… I’m, uh, glad. I’m relieved I have these on when I usually sleep with far less.”

Another tear in his heart.

“I was going to bet you slept in a full suit,” you mock with a smile, “Penelope and Spencer have theories, though his were that it was more of a nightdress and night cap situation – Disney’s Scrooge rendition.”

A chuckle escapes him. “No hats.”

“Your best pal, Dave, isn’t helping the allegations either. The things he’s said behind your back…” None of you notice the gravitational pull, both your arms now resting over his legs.

He laughs at the giddiness on your face. “Would I want to know?”

“He’s mentioned a silk suit once or twice”, you shrug, laughing, “so it doesn’t wrinkle during sleep. Smart, but unrealistic”

“Sure.” He smiles back, “Not as much as a hat you wear to bed”

“I denied that theory too”

“Good to know”, he gives your hand a small squeeze; your other clutching loosely the hem of his shirt, distracted by its softness, “I wouldn’t want people thinking that of me.”

“I’m protecting your honor if anything”, you continue, enjoying the tangent this conversation has taken. He’s too taken by the shine of your eyes to care. Too caught on your every word. “I had something to say against the suit as well. Penelope didn’t consider the summer.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head, all serious, “what a mistake”

“Not breathable with all those layers…”

“What was your theory?”, Hotch has both of his hands softly wrapped around yours, massaging the muscle of your forearm. He’s convinced himself not to linger on the goosebumps pebbling your skin. It could be a result of the fireplace, or the temperatures.

Your teeth latch onto the softness of your lower lip. “It wasn’t anything too crazy like Derek joked about…”

One of his brows goes up in question.

“Birthday suit”, you respond with a stifled laugh. “I simply said you’d probably prefer comfort. Boxers and a soft tee.”

The words are hushed, intimate.

Your fingers toy with his shirt, “Though I would have preferred a white one.”

His mind is hazy and slow. “Preferred?” He blinks.

“Not that this one isn’t…good”, your breath fans his chin, and looking up at him, you say, “White would make you soft… gentle. Opposite of what you appear on the outside but how you truly are from within.”

He lets his eyes fall shut. He hurries for something wise to say, the ground beneath him having tilted. “I do choose comfort above all else”

“I know”, your fingertips sneak underneath his shirt and the first touch makes his whole body tense up, though your hand stops there. The muscles of his stomach ripple. “You’re burning”

His large palms engulf your arms, rubbing up and down slowly. The tremble of your breath is hot against his jaw, your mouth near.

“As warm as the fireplace”, you let out a laugh, though you don’t move away from the breadth of his body. Hotch watches in fascination the shiver taking over yours.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“Mhmm”, you shake your head. A strand of your hair tickles his chin. He watches your eyelids flutter shut and the moments remain suspended.

God, how he wishes he’d bottle up this feeling every single time it occurs . A piece of him lives in each of them too, every time they happen.

The first time he’d felt time pause, and resume trickling slowly had been when you’d both shared a dinner together. Nothing peculiar over that night. Not the food, nor the location. Not even the city the BAU had been stranded in for a case. Nothing except for the company. You, sitting on a barstool, elbows perched over the marble ordering greasy food, still in work clothes, neat and polished, but your hair loose over your shoulders.

“I’m not mad about it”, you speak softly, pulling him back to this present moment. You tilt your head to look up at him, “When I realized…”

He nods, a massive boulder of a weight loosening from over his chest.

“I was conflicted –” you swallow, “embarrassed too”

He encourages you to continue with comforting touches, gentle patterns on your arms formed by his thumbs.

“I was thinking, what if you kick me out of bed? And I think I’d have relived the shootout again instead.”

He shakes his head, “Never. I would never have”

“I know—”

A breath rushes out of him when your hand splays over his stomach, having dared to reach fully under his shirt. You’ve always been more courageous than him, he thinks. In another life he would have already crashed the distance. Pulled you into his arms and tasted your mouth.

“I think I’m… Happy.”

Your eyes full of emotion do it for him. Something compels him, a deeper pull than anything he’s ever experienced.

That’s when the knock on the door resounds.

You both retreat with a smile. You untangle your legs from him, shifting away from his lap.

“It’s okay you can get it”, you say, “but let’s not go back like nothing happened once you do”

Hotch brushes a kiss on the top of your head. On your temple. On the apple of your cheek before standing up. “I’d die if I did, angel.”

Turns out behind the door awaits none other than hotel room service – something Hotch didn’t know was provided in this tiny establishment. He takes the trays and lines them on the table. Waffles and eggs and fruits, together with freshly brewed and hot coffee. The concierge tells him it had been prepaid by Hotch himself, the night before, though ordered for past midnight with a message he’d left on the phone.

“Wow,” you let out, “That’s a lot of food”

He hands you a coffee and sits down at the foot of the bed.

“I know.”

“Maybe we are smarter while drunk”, you say overjoyed, taking a plate of waffles.

He settles with the plate with eggs and bacon. “I wonder how wise we are when we can’t remember everything…”

The memory of the night before would return. 

Hours later. Long after you’re both sated with food and the company. Again in bed, but this time sober and fully aware of how you curl around Hotch’s body, and how he tucks you against him.

Another few hours of sleep, until both minds and bodies were fully rested. Followed swiftly with fevered grasps. Kisses that were bound to happen at last.

“Absinthe” you laugh, pointing at Hotch like he hadn’t been in the same room where Derek had pulled out a full bottle of alcohol out of thin air like a magician.

“Are you going to penalize him over it? Will it impact his annual agent evaluation?”

Your laughter is loud enough to wake up the entire hotel – the entire small city. His jaw hurts from grinning all night. Hotch grabs your hand in his once he notices how unsteady your feet are as you walk down the hallway.

You wrap your other arm around his, “Are you going to, Aaron?”

“I wouldn’t”, he smiles down at you. He’s lightheaded but not drunk on the one glass he had.

“I feel unsteady.”

“How much did you drink?"

You happily sigh, leaning fully into his side, cheek against his bicep. “I don't know. I must be drunk. I’m taking pills so it probably messed me up.”

“What do you feel?”

“I don’t know”, you huff out, “restless and exasperated. Like my heart is in my throat too. Maybe I might get sick”

“Oh, angel” You smother your smile against his arm. He reaches with his free hand to touch your forehead and feel for temperature. “You’re fine. You’re not hot”

But you don’t move away and neither does he. Both having stopped in the middle of the hall, nowhere near either of your rooms.

You’re warm. Eyes intense and stirring like clouds before a storm. Entire face heated and… blushing?  Unmoving from your position next to him, you lean into his touch, his hand dropping to engulf the side of your face.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

Your eyes flutter closed before opening to gaze at him in wonder. “In your bedroom?”

“You could take my bed”, he murmurs. His thumb traces a line from your cheek down to your jaw. “I’ll be there if you need me”

“Nonsense”, you blurt, “We can share”

He doesn’t know how he manages to make it to his room. He’s in a daze, dreaming surely, even though you’re solid and warm against him. His key is in your hands, unlocking his door. His hands on the small of your back, comforting and steady. He feels on fire just from your presence, from the act of watching you hurrying to get into a room you’ll both spend the night in.

The innocence of it all is intimate. His heart beats rhythmically fast and he feels it everywhere on his skin.

“Make yourself comfortable”, his voice is unwavering as he folds his suit jacket on a piece of furniture. He can’t help but be fast in his motions, like this is all part of a dream unless he’s not under the covers as fast as possible.

A like-mindedness you share as well. Your clothes end up in heaps on the floor. You quickly tuck yourself under the covers.

That lightheadedness makes him stumble. He’ll dry out – die out - feeling your body against his. If not from the emotions he’s kept hidden for so long, then it will because of the warmth you’d exuded.

“Good idea”, you say as he leaves a window open. “I love feeling the sun on me when I wake up.”

It must be real, after all. He pauses, thinking of other things that might make your stay as comfortable as possible.

“The fireplace?”

“That’s okay” your voice is muffled by the duvet up to your nose. “After we wake up”

That reminds him.

“Breakfast?”

You nod enthusiastically. You had skipped dinner because of work so the only other thing he looks forward to – apart from waking up to your face in the morning – is sharing breakfast together.

After a message left to the receptionist, he lies down, pulls the covers up to his stomach.

“Mhm, it’s nicer than my bed” you say through a yawn. You reach for his forearm, squeezing it lightly once. “Goodnight, Aaron”

He brushes a soft kiss on your bare shoulder, goosebumps chasing it on your skin. “’Night, angel"

============

Tagging: @the-modernmary @laurensprentiss @genevievedarcygrangerreading @hotchs-bitch @skyler6666 @rousethemousee @arsonhotchner @ssa-izzy @fatherhotchner @anetoupekelly

tagging people who've interacted w part 1 :)

@azenpal @mischiefmanaged71 @fromthewalls @jhiddlesbatchles03 @jasmine-galaxies @jaspxr @multiobsession @caprisunzz

Reblogging this so I can read it again and again🔥🔥

Nightmare

Pairing: Maximus Decimus Meridius x reader

Rating: T (hurt/comfort, angst, fluff)

Word Count: 2.3k

Tag List: @enjisbf, @nasatshirts, @empressenchanted

Author’s Note: Up until now I've never posted any Maximus fanfiction because it's always just sort of been something I did for my own enjoyment, but this is one that I don't mind sharing :) @streets-in-paradise inspired me by sharing some Maximus love with me, so this is dedicated to her (and all you other wonderful people who have made Tumblr a place where I can share my passion for this wonderful man)! There's a lot of love poured into this fic, so I hope y'all enjoy it :)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

You are not surprised to learn that Maximus has nightmares. The details of his past are something you can only guess at, though he has alluded to the terrible battles and bloody escapades that haunt his memories. You also know that his refuge in your home is the first peace he has known since he was a child.

But you are not prepared for the sheer forcefulness of his first nightmare. He’s asleep next to you in bed, pale blue moonlight filtering through the window of your room, but you are awakened by his movements in the middle of the night. He’s jerking back and forth, his face twisted in a look of concentration, agony, and terror. You can’t help the fear that rises in your throat at the sight.

He makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat, one hand gripping the sheets tightly enough that his knuckles turn white. Blinking yourself into consciousness, your heart tightens at the sight. Even all these miles and months away from battle, still his past pursues him in dreams.

His next convulsion shakes the bed, and you instinctively reach out to him, hoping to wake him from the nightmare. It proves to be a mistake the second your hand presses onto his shoulder to shake him awake.

His eyes fly open at your touch, but it’s abundantly obvious that he is not awake, still seeing visions of whatever memory he was in a few moments ago. The look in his eyes is one of pure survival instinct, of a desperation that breaks your heart.

A split second later, you’re flat on your back, and the full weight of his body is pinning you down against the bed. You barely have time to register the shock of his swift movement before you realize that you did not wake him up. Blinded by memory, all he can see is his opponent, and the thought drives you to panic and try to wriggle out from under him.

Grinding his teeth, he grips both your wrists in his left hand and restrains them above your head effortlessly, despite your struggling. You call out his name softly, then more loudly, but still he is lost in the nightmare.

You thought you had tasted his strength before, when he’s made love to you and demonstrated how easily he can hold you in whatever position he chooses, but this situation gives you an entirely new perspective of his strength. A second after flipping you over, his right hand is around your throat, his thumb pressing into your jugular with enough force to crush it.

You’ve never been afraid of him once, but in this moment, without a single hint of recognition in his eyes and all his power focused on choking you, you are so terrified you can barely react. You can’t even use your hands to try to push him away.

Knowing that you may only have a few seconds to react, you gasp out his name as loudly as you can, the word immediately drowned out by the pressure on your throat. Your vision is fading to black a moment later, all the feeling in your hands gone from his vise-like grip.

But your strangled cry reaches past the fog of his nightmare somehow. The pressure on your throat releases, and his eyes widen suddenly, letting you know that he’s finally awake and realizing what he has been doing.

You can never forget the look in his eyes at that moment. All the terrifying forcefulness, the single-minded fierceness, the brute strength that made him such a force of nature on the battlefield — it all vanishes in a split second, dissolving into a gaze of such horror and regret that it shatters your heart instantly. You know that from this moment forward, he may never truly trust himself with you again, a thought that devastates you for him.

You can’t move for a moment, still struggling to catch your breath, and the look of horror in his eyes only increases as he pushes himself off you. He seems torn between the need to gather you in his arms and the fear of hurting you as he just did. His lips move, but no sound comes out.

You draw a ragged breath, reaching out one hand toward him desperately. “I’m all right,” is all you can manage. “I’m all right.”

You try to push yourself to a sitting position, but you find that you simply cannot, still so shaken from thinking you were about to be choked to death by the man you love, who you know would rather die than cause you any harm. His hands are trembling wildly when he reaches out to steady you.

“I didn’t know it was you,” he says, his own breathing so erratic that you wonder if he can feel your pain. “I couldn’t see you. I didn’t know it was you.”

He’s repeating himself in absolute shock, his eyes scanning every inch of your face, your neck, your arms to see what damage he’s done to you. His shaking only worsens, but he doesn’t lay a hand on you during his frantic checking over you for injuries, just lets them hover as if he’s afraid to touch you again.

You manage to sit up this time, steadying yourself with a calming breath and trying to give him a relaxed smile. “I know, I know,” you murmur, reaching out to brush your hand over his ruffled hair. He almost recoils at your touch.

“I could have killed you,” he whispers, involuntarily shifting himself to the edge of the bed away from you.

You keep running your hand lightly through his hair, determined to reassure him. “Of course not,” you promise. “You were only dreaming. It was just a dream.”

“It was just a dream,” he echoes, but not in agreement. “A dream of a battle in which I almost died. In which I killed so many men I could never count them.”

You don’t betray a single hint of fear, just scooting forward to close the distance between you. You use both hands now, framing the sides of his face as his eyes search your face desperately.

“I’m perfectly all right,” you assure him with a smile. “See? No harm done at all.”

“You don’t understand,” he insists vehemently, his voice breaking. “I could have killed you. I didn’t know it was you. I only saw my enemy and thought of killing him.”

Seeing how shaken he is, you push forward and clasp your arms around his neck to steady him. He still doesn’t touch you, doesn’t return your embrace. You can feel his whole body quaking in your arms.

“You don’t understand,” he repeats. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I don’t need to know,” you whisper in his ear, stroking his hair rhythmically in the way he always responds to.

He actually pushes you away this time, his hands gentle on your forearms as he puts space between you again. His eyes are blazing, his face as white as your sheets. “You don’t know,” he murmurs again, dropping his hands. “I could snap your neck with one twitch of my wrist. I could break your wrists, your ribs, your spine as easily as I can hold you down.” He holds his hands up in front of you, eyes wide and haunted. “You have no idea what these hands have done.”

“I don’t care what they’ve done,” you argue, seizing his hands with yours before he can pull them away. This time, though, he doesn’t make a move to pull away, freezing in place while he watches you carefully. Slowly, intentionally, you kiss the backs of both his hands, his knuckles, his fingers, to demonstrate your words. “I know you, and I love you, no matter what you’ve done.”

He shakes his head, though his eyes drift closed at the touch of your lips on the base of his palms. “No,” he half-whispers, “no, no.” Your heart tightens seeing him so tortured, knowing that all this anguish lurks beneath his stoic exterior every day, hiding so you can’t see it. “I should never have risked you like this.”

“You’ve never risked me,” you insist. “You’ve never done anything but protect me.”

“Until tonight,” he counters sharply, his eyes flashing open and fixing on yours with his typical intensity magnified. “It only takes one time. I should never have taken the risk.”

You can read the meaning behind his words — that he thinks he can’t trust himself to sleep next to you. The thought of giving him up, especially for this reason, is utterly unacceptable to you.

“I am not afraid of you,” you tell him firmly. Your words seem to affect him, because the tension in his shoulders lessens fractionally. You kiss his hands again and again, then rest your cheek against the roughened skin that you love so much.

“You should be,” he replies softly, the severity in his voice already decreasing. You can see the waves of exhaustion and sorrow washing over him, and you reach out your arms to enfold him again. This time, he accepts your embrace, folding his arms around your waist gently and resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. His skin is burning hot against yours, his arms still trembling.

“I could never be afraid of you,” you whisper. “I could never be afraid of the man who has protected me and cherished me. You have treated me so gently, so tenderly all these months. Never once has it crossed my mind to be frightened of your strength.” You press a kiss to his shoulder, then the side of his neck. “I take pride in having the heart of a man so strong, so capable. I know you would never hurt me.”

He shifts you in his arms, lifting you slightly to align more easily against his body. You can feel the deep, shuddering breath he draws while he thinks about your words. “I would never mean to hurt you,” he replies, “but in a dream, I cannot tell the difference between memory and reality.”

“I believe you would be able to keep yourself from truly hurting me,” you reassure him, threading your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck. He reacts to your touch with a hand sliding up your back to cradle you closer to his chest.

“And if I could not?” he whispers in response, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. “If I should wake and find you dead by my hand?”

You shake your head, feeling tears spring to your eyes. Any fear you felt in the moment while he was holding you down is completely gone, lost in the tender embrace he holds you in now. “I do not believe the gods would allow such a thing to happen. Not to you. Not to us.”

He releases a shaky breath, one that glides across the exposed skin of your neck. He ducks his head to press a kiss to your collarbone, letting his lips linger there in a way that makes you shiver in his arms. “I am honored by your trust.”

You smile in response, dragging your fingertips lightly down his sides, over the deep scar that slices down his ribs. “I could never trust another man on earth as I do you,” you reply. “My only fear is that I may drown in the love I see in your eyes every day.”

He kisses your collarbone again in response, then moves upward slowly, pressing his lips to the soft hollow of your throat, then the underside of your jaw at your pulse point. Lifting you up effortlessly with his hands hooked under your arms, he repositions you so that you’re straddling him.

He then rests his fingertips, feather-light this time, against the sides of your neck. He strokes his fingers over each mark they left, then presses the softest of kisses against each one. Goosebumps break over your skin at the intimacy of his actions, of the wordless apology in every touch.

He lowers his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he breathes you in. “I do not know what blind fortune allowed me to find you,” he murmurs, touching his lips softly against the corner of your mouth, “but I thank them every moment for the gift of holding you like this.”

At your affectionate smile, he finally gives you the ghost of one in return, though his eyes are still haunted. You suspect that he will retain that haunted look for some time, no matter how many reassurances you offer.

As the intensity of the last while calms, he shifts you in his arms again, cradling you gently and laying you back against the pillows. He leans up on one arm, facing you, and you reach up a hand to stroke the side of his face. His expression softens again, giving you a look of utter fondness and devotion that makes your heart melt.

He leans forward slowly, as if asking your permission, and you gladly grant it. His lips touch yours with a gentle brush, then a bit more pressure. His tongue slides across yours in the way that always sends shivers up your spine, and one of his hands reaches up to stroke your hair, the other resting lightly on your waist. He kisses you once, twice, three times, each one more tender than the last, then lets his lips linger against yours for a moment more.

“I love you,” he says softly that you barely hear it, but rather feel it against your mouth.

“I love you,” you return, “more than I can say.”

One last kiss, and he finally lays down beside you, his face mere inches from yours and his arm folded across your waist. He takes his time in going back to sleep, choosing instead to gaze at your profile in the soft moonlight, but sleep finally takes him. And when you finally close your eyes, content to sleep peacefully beside him again, it’s to the sound of his even breathing and the warmth of his protective embrace.

That was simply fascinating and perfect🤤🤤

Ma’am i am begging for a wolfstar blurb where Remus has a innocence kink and Sirius has a corruption kink

With love, my vagina

Dumb Bunny || Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

Word Count: 4,553

A/N: I hope you like this Bo, you’re my favorite and you know that. I also wrote like 90% of this in one sitting so I don’t know if it’s any good because you usually i take breaks and come back and look at what I’ve written but who knows. Love you so much my love.

Warnings: degradtion, praise, names like slut and dumb, blow job, oral virgin, dogg style, this is post Azkaban kinda

Masterlist

Kneeling at Remus’ feet staring up at the outline of his cock pressing up against his pants was daunting. You’d never actually given head before, had guys asked? Sure, but it had just never seemed worth the trouble, you’d never actually gotten a good look at any of their pricks because as soon as you’d nixed a blow job they were desperate to get inside of you.

Not that that had been all that great either, but you digress. 

You watched with wide eyes as his nimble fingers moved to the button on his slacks, pulling it through the hole before unzipping his zipper which allowed his slacks to drop and pool at his ankles. 

This left him in only his navy boxers which allowed you to get a much better look at the outline of his cock, you could almost see the ridges of the head as it was jostled around when he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side as he repositioned himself in front of you. 

You sat there, unmoving as you stared down his cock, not quite sure what to do now.

“Come on Pup, don’t tell me that you’re so clueless that you don’t know what to do with a cock when its been laid out in front of you,” Sirius sniped from where he stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as his eyes raked over your figure, clad only in the pair of pale pink panties and matching bra that you had put on hours earlier. “Don’t tell me that you’re that useless.”

“M’not useless,” You grumbled, casting your eyes down in shame, “I just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Speak up there Pup,” Remus commanded gently, slipping two strong fingers under your jaw to tilt your head up so that you could meet his gaze, “Can’t hear you when you mumble, and s’not nice to not look at someone when you’re talking to them.”

“M’sorry sir,” You apologized, trying to keep your eyes on his and not on his ever growing bulge, still straining against the material of his boxers, “I was just saying that,” You gulped, casting a sidelong glance at Sirius before moving your eyes back to meet Remus’, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never done what before?” Sirius asked from off to the side, his smirk evident in his voice as he moved to stand next to Remus, “Come on bunny, wanna hear you say it.”

You looked up at Remus with pleading eyes but it was clear he wasn’t going to call his dog off, “I’ve never given head before, I’ve never sucked…” You felt your face heat up as you trailed off at the implication of your words.

“Oh come on,” Sirius chuckled, kneeling next to you so that you were of equal height, “Don’t get shy on me now, you can say the word puppy, I know you can.”

You found yourself not mortified by his condescending matter but rather ridiculously turned on, you could already feel a knot begin to form in your belly.

Sirius kept his eyes trained on you expectantly until you finally relented, “Cock,” As the single word slipped from your mouth you felt embarrassment bloom in your belly which was silly really, it was only just a word.

“Come on now, all together,” The dark haired man grinned mischievously.

“I’ve never sucked cock,” You admitted bashfully, looking to Remus to measure his reaction. You were nervous, not only had you never sucked someone off before but both men were a decade older than you with more sexual experience. What if you weren’t good, or you couldn’t take them and triggered your gag reflex? With all of these thoughts swimming around in your head it was hard to form a coherent thought and that was purely from nervousness, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like when you had them inside of you.

He had to restrain himself from groaning, both at your words and the innocent look on your face as you gazed up at him, “You’ve had sex though right baby? We’re not gonna take your virginity are we?” He asked, because if he and his lover were about to be your first time it was going to have to be a whole lot more special than this.

You were quick to shake your head, “No, I’ve had sex, I’m not a virgin.”

“Well in this hole you are,” Sirius captured your jaw, turning it to face him. His thumb brushed against the seal of your lips in a nonverbal command for you to open them, which you did of course.

You watched with wide eyes as Sirius gathered spit in his mouth before he spat it into your mouth, the taste of him bleeding across the expanse of your tongue. 

“Let me see Pup,” Sirius commanded as you stuck your tongue out, allowing him to see his spit on your tongue before he gave you your next direction, “Good girl, now swallow.”

Not as restrained a man as Remus he did groan watching your throat with an unguarded lust that had you shivering at the idea of what thoughts laid behind that gaze.

“Pads is right, you’re a very good girl,” Remus praised, directing your attention back towards him. Your mouth dropped open at the sight you were met with, Remus’ stiff cock standing proud and tall in front of your face with his hand wrapped around it.

“Am I going to suck your cock?” You asked, wide eyed and slightly concerned as you gazed up at Remus. Though his dick was prettier than you anticipated with its bright red, leaking tip, and the ridges caused by the veins that ran along the sides it was absolutely mouth watering, but the idea of fitting that in your mouth was nothing less than nerve wracking.

He let out a low chuckle, one of his strong hands moving to brush your hair out of your face, his eyes trained on your lips, “No, not yet baby. Gonna wrap those pretty lips around Sirius he’s a little bit smaller, it’ll make it easier for you.”

You heard Sirius grumble in discontent at the comment as he pushed himself up to undo the buckle of his belt, shedding both his trousers and boxers with far less dignity than his counterpart. Though yes, he was a bit smaller, it didn’t appear to be a significant difference and did little to soothe your woes about your potential performance. 

“Don’t worry Poppet, m’gonna teach you how to suck his dick. It's not hard I promise,” The tall man knelt beside you, his hand still on his prick as he smeared a kiss along your temple. You allowed your eyes to close at the contact, leaning into the touch as Remus guided one of your hands to his cock. It practically jumped into your grasp as oppositely charged magnets would attract each other. 

Though you’d given a hand job before Remus’ much larger, scarred hand found its way to encase your’s, guiding you through the motions of pumping up and down the shaft.

“How about me?” Sirius sounded petulant, like a child, but there was absolutely nothing child like about the way his dick rested heavily in the palm of his hand, he wasn’t as long as Remus but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. The head of his member was more purple than red, though it leaked just as ferociously with the beginning drops of precum.

“He’s right Puppy,” Remus told you, pulling his lips away from your temple so that you would be forced to support the weight of your head on your own and meet his eyesight, “Gonna teach you how to give a blow job, okay?”

You nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”

Impatience radiated off of the man who stood before you, the head of his cock staring you down, before you could talk yourself out of action you reached out and took the shaft in your hand, getting used to how it sat heftily in your hand.

“You’re gonna want to spit in your hand first Pup, it’ll make it easier,” Remus suggested, his length still secure in his own hand. You followed your instructions, switching Sirius’ member to your nondominant hand while you spat into the other one before resuming your previous hold.

Gazing up at him as you worked your hand up and down the length of his shaft you noticed the way his eyes were entirely consumed by lust, shining grey irises now black, blending in with his pupils.

“Use your thumb to smear the precum baby, like that,” Remus continued to coach you, watching as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head of Sirius’ member and how he jolted at the motion, “See he likes it.”

“Do you? Do you like it, Daddy?” You peered up at him through your eyelashes, cocking your head to the side without ever relenting the movement of your hand, “Am I doing a good job?”

Remus groaned from beside you, his gaze having left the dick in your hand, now landing on your face. Sirius simply smirked, dark curtains of hair framing his visage, the mere sight of him looming above you was enough to make you embarrassingly turned on, feeling pleasure begin to simmer in your belly you could only imagine how it would feel when you had him in your mouth.

“You’re doing a very good job Puppy,” It was Remus who spoke this time, “But it looks like Pads might be a little desperate to get his cock in your mouth, you think you’re ready?”

“I think so,” You nodded.

That was all Sirius needed before he was releasing his member from your hold, gripping his hand around it pumping it once, then twice before bringing the head to rest on your bottom lip. Tracing the seal of your lips with the weeping head of his prick he spoke, “Come on Puppy, wanna be the first cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“You heard him (Y/N), open your mouth, time to take his cock.” Remus said from beside you.

“B-But I’ve never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

Getting more and more frustrated with the fact his prick still wasn’t in your mouth Sirius began shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” The werewolf soothed you, running his fingers through your tresses, “Gonna help you.”

Glancing over at Remus for one last confirmation you didn’t realize what Sirius was doing until it was too late and his member was making contact with your cheek as he slapped it against the side of your face, streaking precum across your skin, “Hurry up slut.”

You whimpered at the degradation of both his words and his action as you felt a pang of pleasure zip through your body, shivering at the filthiness of it. You shifted in your spot, trying to rub your thighs together to soothe some of the ache that resided there and that wasn’t showing any indication of relenting but neither of the older men were having it.

“Stop that,” Sirius growled, capturing your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips were forced open, “Not about you right now, you’re supposed to be getting me off,” With that, having lost all patience he pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, releasing a strangled groan as he stopped himself from pushing in deeper. 

Remus let out a small chuckle shifting so that he was closer to you, “There you go Poppet, just start with the head. You wanna be sure to keep your teeth tucked away so that you don’t hurt him,” Leaning in closer towards your ear he added something else in a low whisper, “We can do that later, yeah?”

You let out a small giggle, which because it was muffled by the cock sitting inside of your mouth sent vibrations of pleasure through Sirius, starting at the head of his member and working their way up the shaft. Unable to control himself he bucked into your mouth, not considerably deep but deep enough to jar you. 

“Careful Si,” Remus scolded gently, one of his hands going to grip Sirius’ bare thigh as a reminder not to rush. Looking at you he saw the tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden and unexpected motion, “Puppy,” He cooed, caressing the side of your face with his knuckles, “Gotta breathe through your nose, do you know how to do that baby?”

Shaking your head gently you were careful to keep your teeth tucked away behind your lips while still signaling that you had no clue what you were doing. 

“Are you choking on my cock?” Sirius mocked you, the concerned tone of voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating, “Not even doing anything with it, just sitting there in your mouth and you can’t even take it,” He thrusted up gently into your mouth, just enough for the head of his cock to brush up against the roof of your mouth as cause you to gag around his length.

“Be nice Sirius,” Remus seethed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him while he pet your hair, grounding you as you focused on inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. Concentrating on that helped you to calm your gag reflex, no longer having a problem with how his member was positioned in your mouth.

“Daddy can be mean can’t he?” Remus directed his attention towards you, his tone was so falsely sympathetic that it worsened the need bubbling up inside of you as the pleasure in your stomach continued to simmer. 

You stopped yourself from nodding again, this time letting out an affirmative hum which pleased Remus as he watched Sirius’ hips stutter as he refrained from forcing his length all the way down your throat.

“You can suck harder bunny, it’ll feel good and he’ll tell you if something hurts or doesn’t feel good, gotta trust him to do that.”

Taking his advice you sucked more harshly at the member inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while looking up at him to gauge his reaction, he was still looking down at you, unblinking as though if he lost sight of you for even a moment the pleasure would stop. 

Remus slid his body behind yours so that your back was pressed to his chest with his cock achingly pressing into your bareback, smearing precum along your skin.

“Gotta hollow your cheeks Pup, like this,” His fingers found their way to either side of your face, pressing gently on your cheeks until he could feel the cock inside of your mouth. “It’ll feel good for him, make it tighter like it would be if he was fucking your cunt.”

One hand quickly abandoned your face, sliding its way down your stomach until his fingers were brushing the top of your lacy panties before slipping just his fingertips beneath the material. He simply cupped your pussy possessively, not working his fingers between your folds or into your hole, but just resting there, clutching you.

“Fuck Moons,” Sirius gritted, “She’s a fucking natural, hollowing her cheeks so prettily for me it’s like fucking her actual cunt.”

You whined at his words, squirming once again trying to relieve the ache burning between your thighs, the way he spoke to Remus, to Sir, like you weren’t even there. It was deliciously objectifying, degrading, and you loved it. 

Remus smiled into your neck as he moved to nip at your ear, the contact subtle, but still enough to have you shivering as pleasure tickled at your nerves which felt frayed and exposed, with every motion, every exhale against your skin it was like on fire had been set to each of them individually.

“Gonna make him feel even better now poppet, bob your head up and down and you’re gonna take your hand,” He took one of your hands, which had been resting on your thigh, and guided it to the base of Sirius’ member, “Just move it a little bit, on what you’re not able to fit into your mouth, don’t wanna neglect it.” 

Following his instructions you worked the exposed length of him in your hand as you bobbed your head up and down the rest, taking about half of his cock into the velvety warmth of your mouth. Running the brunt of your tongue along his shaft you acted upon the courage you felt surge through you, using the hand not at the base of his cock to grapple at his balls. 

You were more than pleased with the strangled moan that fell from Sirius’ lips, you’d gotten groans out of him earlier but not a moan. Remus noted this as well, his mouth still pressed against your ear, “Look at that, he’s so pretty with his head thrown back like that, moaning, and all because of your mouth.” 

One of his fingers found your bottom lip which was dripping with saliva, and he ran the pad of his finger along the cushion of your lip, pressing gently. 

“How’s it feel, Pads?” Remus looked up at the other man.

“She was born to suck cock,” He exhaled sharply as you took him deeper in your mouth, making a point to continue to hollow your cheeks.

The hand cupping your sex slid a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness on a singular digit causing you to jump at the contact before you rolled your hips towards his hand nonverbally begging for more.

Moving his lips to suck dark purple hues into the delicate flesh of your neck Remus spoke into your skin, “Once you make Daddy cum then it's your turn Bunny, don’t be greedy, you gotta give before you get.”

Taking his words at face value you became even more determined to make Daddy cum, knowing that not only would it be a personal feat, your first blow job, but that when it was done you would be getting so much more.

Breathing in sharply through your nose you willed your gag reflex not to act up as you pushed your head down on his cock, taking in as much of Sirius as you could which you were pleased to see that it was a majority of his length inside of your mouth by the time you hit your limit. 

You sucked more harshly at his member, swirling your tongue around what you could before Remus rose from where he had rested behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before moving to stand next to Sirius. You whimpered when his fingers slipped from your cunt but were intrigued as you watched through your lashes. Observing as Remus’ hands slipped under the smaller man’s shirt, palms running up and down the toned planes of his stomach as he meshed his lips with the other man’s.

You were unsure but you thought that you heard a command for Sirius to rid himself of his shirt as he quickly undid the buttons, letting the dress shirt fall to the floor with Remus’ quickly following suit.

Watching the two men make out with each other, Remus’ hands nestling themselves in Sirius’ long hair and Sirius’ gripping at Remmy’s bare ass, spurred you on in your efforts to make him cum.

Adjusting Siri’s length so that it sat comfortably in your throat and that so you could feel where it bulged against your throat before you swallowed around his length.

If the feeling of his load being shot down your throat wasn’t indication enough that your little trick had done the job then the sharp, “Fuck” the man released from above you certainly was. 

You swallowed his cum just as you had his spit before easing yourself off of his length, taking extra care to keep your teeth from his sensitive cock. Looking up at him with wide eyes you watched him lay his head on Remus’ chest as marks similar to the ones left on your neck were left on his, and though yours were beginning to feel a bit tender you knew that Sirius was loving his as much as you were loving yours.

“Did I do a good job Daddy?” You looked up at him owlishly, cocking your head to the side.

“Fuck Moons if you don’t fuck her I will,” Was all you got in response as Remus chuckled into the newly bruised skin of his lover pulling away to assess you. 

He frowned looking at you as he noticed that you were still in your underwear, “Up,” He ordered, once you were on your feet he was in front of you in a single stride, strong, scarred arms were extending around your torso to undo the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders allowing the garment to fall to the floor before kneeling in front of you to tug your panties down which you then stepped out of.

“On the bed,” He ordered simply, your panties hanging from the crook of his finger as he moved to deposit them in the pocket of his blazer, cock bobbing in the air as he moved about the room.

Positioning yourself on the bed, on your hands and knees you caught a glimpse of Sirius lounging on an armchair in the room, cock resting against his thigh as he recovered from his first orgasm of the night. He shot you a lazy smile before raking his eyes along your form, studying each ripple and ridge hungrily. 

On your hands and knees, you felt uncomfortably vulnerable but you knew it was all worth it when you felt Remus settle in behind you, his hands moving to grip your hips and pull you back towards his pelvis.

You pushed your bum back towards Remus as you felt the head of his cock run through your soaking folds, you were almost embarrassed by how wet sucking Sirius off had made you but you couldn’t quite summon the energy.

“Don’t rush bunny, I got you, I promise,” With one hand guiding his cock and the other anchoring you to him he pushed just the head of his member inside of you. You clenched around him, trying to suck more of his length up into you because though you technically had him you needed more.

Not feeling particularly patient himself Remus wasted no time before pushing the entirety of his length inside of you, growling as your cunt pulsed around him. 

“Sir!” You moaned feeling yourself stretch around him, having never taken his cock before you weren’t ready for the way that he stretched you so wide it was bordering on painful just barely avoiding tipping over the edge. 

Allowing you a moment to adjust to his length he pulled out of you until his member barely rested inside of you before thrusting himself all the way back in. A hand running down your back signaled for you to arch your back for him which of course you did.

His pace was fast but deep, the depth of his strokes consistent as he reached depths inside of you you hadn’t even known existed before. Pistoning his hips in and out of you the rhythmic sound of skin slapping up against skin filled the room and you could feel his balls slapping up against your clit which each and every thrust.

“Pretty bunny,” Remus’ low voice sounded through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your skin against each other as he leaned back to watch his member disappear in you before pulling back out, “Such a pretty bunny for me, so sweet and innocent aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” You responded, allowing your head to drop and hang as you fell onto your elbows rather than your hands.

Sirius tutted as he rose from his seat in the corner, his beautifully tattooed body still glistening with sweat as he began pumping his cock while walking towards you, “Please, she’s not a pretty bunny, she’s a little cum slut. Dumb little bunny.”

You whined out at his degradation, your eyes squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure coursed through you causing you to let out a ragged breath. 

“See, she likes it, dumb bunny.” Though you couldn’t see him you were sure that he was grinning wickedly down at you.

“No m’not! I’m a pretty bunny,” You insisted, though your message was a bit undercut as you slurred your words.

“That’s right, pretty bunny,” Remus cooed, groping the globes of your ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh before pulling away to observe the handprints he left on your skin, if only for a moment.

“She wants to be, but she’s not, she’s just a cock hungry slut.” Sirius countered and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, desperately seeking his approval but all you got was a sneer as he pumped his cock next to your face.

“Not nice, Sir says you’re mean,” You whined as Remus continued to thrust in and out of you, rather enjoying watching the interaction between his two lovers.

“Oh is that right? Well, I don’t fucking care if I’m mean, you’re a dumb fuck bunny and if telling you that is mean then oh well,” He grasped your jaw in between his hand, forcing your head up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with you, “Guess I’m mean.”

The whine you released at that was perhaps the most pathetic of the night, you felt pathetic at the gush of wetness you felt at his words, the pleasure in your belly progressing from a simmer to a boil as Remus’ hand reached around to find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t listen to him,” The man buried deep inside of your cunt told you, “You’re my pretty bunny, keep on being my pretty bunny, prove Daddy wrong.”

It was all too much, the contrast between Remus’ praising words and Sirius’ harsh ones, the sight of Sirius’ tattooed hand working up and down his shaft, Remus’ pace in and out of you and his hand on your clit. 

It was just all too much.

You could barely see straight as the pleasure boiling in your belly overflowed, like hot lava flowing you felt pleasure flow through your veins as you climaxed. Your orgasm left you feeling warm in every nook and cranny as your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt like you were underwater as your thoughts swam around you, mingling with the noises in the room around you.

Your head was still heavy as you opened your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d squeezed shut, you jolted forward as Remus continued moving in and out of your pussy, trying to get away from his cock. Your orgasm had been electrifying leaving you sensitive but Remus didn’t seem to be relenting.

“Don’t recall telling you you could cum Poppet,” Remus said from behind you, and that’s when you realized why he wasn’t stopping, “Maybe Daddy was right, maybe you are just a dumb bunny.”

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