Notes:
The plot bunnies are running wild! I'm supposed to be working on Coming Up for Air, but they wouldn't leave me alone, and I gave into them and wrote this.
This fic contains sexually explicit content, including light bondage and power exchange. All acts are consensual and take place within the context of a trusting relationship. Please read responsibly.
Work Text:
"I appreciate you keeping me in mind, but I need to put my focus back where it belongs. Squad 3, House 51. Sort of keep myself tied down to one thing," - Kelly Severide, Chicago Fire 8x10.
Stella watched as Wendy Seager's retreating form left Molly's just as fast as she had arrived.
Thank God for that, Stella thought to herself, hearing the latch click as she turned her attention back to her boyfriend, who was looking at her as though she was the only person in the room.
"Herrmann would probably let me sneak out early if you want," Stella sidled back to the bar, stashing the dish towel under the bench, before reaching out to take his hands in hers "Just the two of us," she finished.
"I'd love that," he affirmed as he smiled his secret smile for her, not breaking eye contact.
He leant across the bar to meet her half way, closing the gap between them, kissing her softly, once, twice, as her hand came up to stroke the side of his face, his five o-clock shadow already growing back, despite having shaved that morning.
"Herrmann, I'm leaving," she called in the direction of her boss as she gathered her jacket and bag.
"Yeah, yeah, go on then," Herrmann waved her off absent mindedly, still caught up in the earlier rivalry with the glory hogs better known as Firehouse 20.
—
The bite of the cool autumn air greeted them as they walked down the front steps of Molly's, heading in the direction of Kelly's Mustang parked conveniently out the front.
The pair slid into their respective sides of the car, the beastly roar of the engine coming to life as Kelly hit the ignition and pulled away from the kerb.
Stella watched him from the passenger seat, the glow of the streetlights illuminated his face in waves. She reveled in the opportunity to study him, really look at him in that moment. Taking in his no-nonsense haircut, striking profile, strong jaw, the confident set of his shoulders.
And he was hers. All hers. That much had been reaffirmed tonight.
Wendy Seager had been an annoyance, to put it lightly. Her peppy attitude, short pixie haircut, and the way she was looking at Kelly like she had stars in her eyes, irritated Stella to no end. But she couldn't say anything. Not after last year's conflict with Tyler being injected into their life in a totally different context than she had regarded him for her entire life up until that moment. Because she had accused Kelly of being jealous and possessive, and so out of line in his assessment of Tyler being in love with her. But Kelly was right; Tyler was in love with her, and it was one of the many reasons Kelly and Stella's relationship had fallen apart.
But they were in a good place now, better than ever, and she wasn't going to let her own jealous and possessive nature turn her into a hypocrite. Not tonight.
"I can feel you staring," Kelly broke Stella's reverie, his gaze flicking to her briefly before returning his eyes to the road.
Stella brushed the curls away from her face, angling her body towards him from the passenger seat.
"So, you like being tied down?" Stella asked playfully, echoing his earlier sentiment.
"That's what you got out of that entire conversation?" he questioned, his eyebrow raising as amusement and slight incredulity dripping from his voice. "Squad 3 and Firehouse 51 are where I'm supposed to be, not on loan to OFI," Kelly repeated.
"Oh, I heard you," she smirked "but you were looking at me the whole time you were talking," Stella reminded him.
Arriving at the loft, he threw the car into park and turned to face her. Yes, the subtext was not lost on him. At least it wasn't lost on him anymore since Casey had pointed out that Seager had quite obviously had a thing for him.
Kelly could feel that there was something that Stella wasn't saying. He'd seen it in the way she'd approached him after they'd apprehended Conrad following the collapse of the stairs from the basement. After Seager had been standing a little too close for a colleague with her hands resting on his arms, whether as a gesture of comfort for him, or an excuse for her to get her hands on his body, he didn't know.
He felt his left hand clench into a fist as memories of Tyler came flooding back. This? This he understood.
"Come on, let's go in," he jerked his head in the direction of his building.
—
The door clicked shut, he slid the lock into place, and then swivelled on his heel to flick the lights on, only to find Stella standing right in front of him.
Face bathed in moonlight, there was something about her in this moment that hadn't been there earlier. It was a combination of the mischief written across her face, the gleam in her eyes coupled with the colour seeming to be impossibly darker than usual.
His heartbeat thudded in his ears. His breath hitched. Fingers twitched at his sides.
Stella gazed at him predatorily and he was fairly certain he was going to be her prey tonight.
Intrigued by her next move, he stood there, rooted in place, letting her take the lead. She'd kicked her shoes off and shed her jacket the moment they had crossed the threshold, barriers falling away one by one.
She moved towards him in slow, deliberate steps. The sound of her bare feet padding across the floorboards. Stella's hands smoothed their way up Kelly's chest, over his shoulders, and up his neck, settling around the back of his head, pulling him down to her in a kiss.
It was soft at first. Teasing. She threaded fingers through his hair, scratching along his scalp, while his hands found her waist, but all bets were off after his hands untucked her shirt and landed on bare skin.
Spurred on by some invisible force, her hands flew to the bottom of his sweater, roughly pushing it up and over his head and flinging it off into an unknown corner of the loft. He hoisted her up, her legs automatically winding around him, as he carried them in the direction of the bedroom.
Catching Kelly by surprise, Stella untangled herself from him at the last minute, her feet landing on the floorboards with a gentle thud. He was caught off balance by the change in weight he was carrying, and she took this opportunity to push him back onto the bed, gentle but firm.
He reached for her wrist to pull her to him.
She stepped back, out of reach, smirking.
"Stay," she commanded, turning on her heel and disappearing into the walk-in robe.
He did as he was told.
Inside the robe, she shed her clothes, leaving them in a hasty pile, and clad in a black lace bra and underwear set she was glad she had the foresight to select earlier that morning.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she ran her hands through her curls and admired the way the lingerie looked on her.
Devastating, she thought to herself.
Poking around in Kelly's wardrobe, she quickly found what she was looking for, thanks to his orderly and meticulous nature. Her fingers closed around the black department-issued tie he had been wearing to OFI every day for the past fortnight and she pulled it from its place in the wardrobe.
Kelly looked up at her from the bed as she emerged from the wardrobe, resting back on his arms. His mouth went dry as he drank in her appearance. Wild curls cascading. The swell of her breasts atop the black lace bra. The scrap of lace hugging the curve of her hip.
She moved towards him with a slow, deliberate pace, a tie tangling from her hand.
Arriving at the bed, she began crawling towards him on all fours, rising up to fling a leg over and straddle him.
Instinctively, his hands went to her hips, aching to feel the contrast of her smooth, hot skin against the lace underwear.
"No," she said firmly, swatting his hands away. He obediently dropped them back to his sides.
Then he really saw it. The tie. The same tie he had worn to his OFI secondment every day since he'd been temporarily reassigned two weeks ago. He was in trouble.
Kelly's eyes flicked from the tie and back to her, gaze smouldering and pupils blown. This was a woman on a mission.
Hovering over him, close enough that he could smell her coconut shampoo, she lowered herself and kissed his neck, breasts pressing deliciously against his bare chest. He felt her tongue dart out and lick at the pulse point in his neck.
His hips jolted. Hands fisted in the sheets, desperate to grab onto something.
"No touching," she murmured her reminder in his ear, her nose grazing the shell of his ear.
All he could do was make an incoherent noise in response.
Rising above him on her knees, she peered down at him, the tie grasped firmly in her hands.
"You like being tied down?" she asked innocently, the silky material sliding through her fingers.
This was torture. Absolute torture. He was aching to touch her. His jeans had become impossibly tight.
He nodded mutely at her in acquiescence. He was no longer capable of forming words.
Sitting higher on his chest, she looped the tie around one wrist, then the other, creating a knot that even Kelly Severide himself would be impressed by, that is, if he wasn't being driven mad right now, before securing it around the headboard.
She was maddening and he was completely at her mercy.
Pleased with her handiwork, Stella returned her attention to his mouth. Sucking at his bottom lip, she kissed him roughly, swallowing the groan that erupted from deep in his chest.
Settling back on her knees, Stella had set up camp right where he wanted her, her heat radiating through the thin barriers of denim and lace separating them.
Stella began tracing a pattern from the hollow of his throat, mapping his chest and abdominal muscles, watching in great satisfaction as she caught a near-imperceptible quiver in a few of them. Her mouth followed suit, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses in her wake that had Kelly desperate for more air.
Chuckling to herself, she pushed further down his legs, her hands landing on belt. Making swift work of the buckle, the two ends flapped open, making quick work of the button and zip on his jeans.
Her feet landed back on the floor and her hands went to the waistband of his jeans.
"Lift," Stella ordered, and Kelly complied obediently, the material sliding down his legs before hitting the floor with a thud.
Tied up to the bed and clad only in his underwear, Stella grinned at him mischievously. She could see him straining against the fabric of his underwear, fully erect and desperate for attention.
Returning to his lap, Stella settled on Kelly, feeling her twitch beneath him. She smirked.
"You're so used to being in control, aren't you, Lieutenant?" she asked sweetly, grinding against him once for good measure. He groaned and his head fell back against the pillow, his chest heaving.
Then she was on her way down again, dropping featherlight kisses to his abdomen before she reached the waistband of his underwear. Hooking her fingers into them, she pulled them down his chiseled legs, fingernails scratching deliciously at the skin that was travelled in her mission to rid him of all clothing.
"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to lose control?" Stella asked, dragging a finger from the base of his shaft, right up to the tip.
"Stella," he groaned, writhing against the sheets.
"Have you, Lieutenant Severide?" Stella asked, her tone firmer, but still teasing.
"Yes," Kelly ground out, managing to catch a glimpse of her sitting at the foot of the bed looking smug. He was sure this woman was the devil reincarnated.
Taking him in her hand, Stella began working him in a slow, deliberate rhythm, her hand sliding deliciously over his length.
She was right, he was used to being in control. He led a team who ran into burning buildings for a living and it was his responsibility to make sure they made it home at the end of every shift; he had to be in control. And here? He'd always had autonomy and control in the bedroom. But Stella was the one person who would challenge him, call him out on his shit, and make him want to be a better man, not only for her, but for himself.
At some point, his eyes had slipped closed, the sensation intensifying with every stroke. His eyes snapped open when he felt her add her mouth into the mix. She maintained eye contact with him as her tongue swirled around his head, coupled with her hand still moving vertically.
His head hit the pillow, breath ragged, as he felt that familiar coil of tension low in his belly beginning to build.
Kelly gasped as he felt himself hit the back of her throat, sucking in air like his life depended upon it, his hips jerking violently, but Stella just moved a hand to hold him down.
"Stella, if you don't stop now–" he warned her.
She stopped.
Completely.
Just stayed, perched at the end of the bed, watching him from afar as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Caught somewhere between exploding and dying, Kelly was convinced that he had seen stars, he was completely helpless and groaned at the loss of contact.
Stella continued to wait. Waited and watched as he regained control over his breathing before making her next move. She'd brought him right to the edge and denied his release, his fate resting firmly in her hands.
Satisfied that he had calmed down enough for her to continue working her sorcery on him, Stella flung off the remaining garments, crawled back up the length of his body, guiding him to where she wanted him the most.
Stella lowered herself ever so slightly, brushing her wet heat over him. Moving at a teasing, torturous pace, she made allowances for a few more centimeters of him, before abruptly sitting higher and losing the contact.
Kelly whimpered.
Stella smirked.
"What do we say?" Stella prompted, once again lining them up.
"Please," came Kelly's strangled whisper.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you," Stella tilted her head, feigning innocence.
"Please," he repeated this time, louder.
Stella sank down on him in one fluid motion and he gasped, finally where he wanted to be after enduring this sweet, exquisite torture.
But then she didn't move.
Kelly was sure this was it for him. His final moments. And honestly? Not a bad way to go.
Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, Stella reached up and pulled the tie from the headboard, releasing his wrists from their restraints, the fabric joining their clothes on the floor.
Finally freed and needing no invitation, he flipped them effortlessly so Stella was pinned beneath him.
Kelly started a frenzied rhythm, spurred on by the desire and frustration she had built within him, mercilessly dragging him to the point of breaking without delivering. He dipped his head to kiss her, messy and breathless.
Gathering her two smaller hands in his, he held them above her head on the pillow, feeling her wind her legs around his waist, beckoning him deeper.
"You might have started this," he growled into her ear "But I'm going to finish it, and it's not going to be me finishing first," he promised, punctuating his words with sharp, intentional thrusts, pulling a moan from her that sent fire soaring through his body.
Stella was writhing beneath Kelly, enamoured by the way he'd seamlessly flipped the dynamic.
Determined that she finished before he did, he kept his control on a tight leash. But Kelly Severide was no stranger to Stella Kidd's body, he'd spent hours memorising every curve, every sweet spot, and he could tell she was close.
He felt her breath hitch before he heard it, the subtle tightening of her legs around his hips, the way her knees dug in just a bit more.
Then he felt her walls clench.
Reaching down without breaking the rhythm or the spell between them, his thumb found the bundle of nerves with practiced ease and he rubbed a circular motion.
Once.
Twice.
And she was gone.
A guttural cry ripped from her lips as she surged around him, dragging him across the finish to his own release as he groaned into her neck, powerful and all consuming.
Kelly rolled onto his back, taking Stella with him, collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs, heaving chests, pounding hearts, and slick bodies.
She felt limp and boneless against him, and a momentary surge of panic overtook him, thinking he'd pushed her too hard.
"Babe?" he asked, worry bleeding into his voice.
"I'm good, I'm good," she breathed, patting his chest in response.
Stella lifted her head, a lazy grin spreading across her face as Kelly pushed her untamed curls back from her face, kissing her tenderly.
"And just for the record," he told her with rough honesty "you're the only one I want to be tied down to,"