Gift Details ♥
Reader Style: cisfem
Character: Bogard
Vibe: NSFW Consensual
AU: Government Mandated Marriage AU
Prompt: The Hat Rule

Summary: As part of the Match Program in this new government controlled world, you find yourself matched with Garp's right-hand man.

Content Notes: lots of build up, not, technically, NSFW, but it was getting long and I had to stop XD

Additional Note: Thanks and Love to lyndsyh who has done phenomenal world building for this AU in her series. The foundation of this world is what and exist upon and I would have written neither without Lyn's friendship and permission ^_^ So give her your thanks if you like those stories XD

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

He hadn't expected to be omitted from the Match Program, but he'd still been surprised to receive a Matchbook. He'd met you through the book itself, and then met you face to face, supported by his boss, Monkey D. Garp.

Bogard had no other family to speak of, and while Garp was hardly his family, he was someone he trusted, and so thus it had gone.

You were small, but maybe that was just his perspective. Quiet, well-mannered, and self-sufficient. A solid match for someone like him, who spent a lot of time traveling for work. He was Garp's right hand, and the Captain did not stay in one place for long.

There was simply too much to be done.

The wedding had been modest and small. Neither of you were interested in a large ceremony, and you both agreed to what was effectively the minimum allowed by the government. Ceremony and celebration were part of the process, so it was almost impossible to not have some sort of affair, but you kept it as concise as possible.

It had taken a bit of time, but the first thing he noticed was your smile and how he'd miss it on late nights. The warmth of it after a long day was enough to have him wanting to rush home more than he'd expected. Home had never really been a warm place, just somewhere to sleep when a bed wasn't provided by virtue of his assignment.

In only one thing were you awkward, and that was intimacy. You flushed deeply at even the softest peck on your cheek, and had almost had a panic attack on the night of the wedding. Apologies had spilled from your lips as tears had slipped down your cheeks, and he reassured you again and again that it was okay.

Bogard knew his default expression appeared frustrated, or even grumpy, though he was rarely ever in a negative emotional state. It made him intimidating, and maybe intimidation was why he'd fallen into the habit. So he had offered you a compromise.

He always wore the frown, and the hat. When you were ready for something more from him, then you could simply remove the hat from his head. Whenever. Wherever. You alone had that right, and he would take care of things after that.

If it took you longer than the time-line set forth by the government guidelines, then he'd do everything needed to obtain extensions until you were ready. It was the least he should be able to do, and considering his job kept him away for long stretches sometimes he was sure it wouldn't be an issue.

The relief of pressure helped a lot. Bogard had been infinitely patient with you from the beginning. Despite his stony appearance, he was a kind man at heart, and a good person for sure. There was no one else better for you to have paired with, but all the rules and regulations of the match program had weighed on you and made it difficult.

A few weeks after he'd made the offer, you'd taken him up on it.

He'd gotten home at a decent hour, and had a good day. After dinner you collected the plates, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on your own as you walked into the kitchen with the dishes.

There was a silence that followed, and once you'd set the dishes down you could feel him behind you. You hadn't heard the chair move, or any other sound to indicate he'd gotten up, and you were reminded that he was certainly a skilled member of the marines.

One gloved hand rested on the counter on either side of you, warmth against your back.

"You can tell me to stop," he says quietly, hand moving your hair aside and tilting your neck. "But if you don't." Warm words wash over your skin as he leans down and kisses the crook of your neck. "I promise you'll enjoy this."

A shivering breath escapes you at the words, and he presses against you, trapping you gently between himself and the counter. Kisses continue along your neck as his hands rest easily against your hips. He moves you effortlessly, almost like a dance, turning you to face him while moving you away from the counter.

The permanent frown on his face softens, the scowl nearly the beginning of a smile. Twirling you he takes his hat off your head and sets it on the counter, hand back on your hip as he sways a little with you, the dancing steps moving you both further from the kitchen.

Being led in a loose dance by Bogard, who was moving with such ease you were certain he enjoyed dancing, was the beginning of all the tension between the two of you dissolving. You knew he was warm despite the constant scowl, but you were beginning to think you'd underestimated how deep that passion ran.

Slowly, his eyes on yours, he pulls your dress up, gathering the material in his fingers and bringing it up bit by bit. You could feel anticipation swelling up inside you as the fabric raised higher and higher, and when it got to your thighs you couldn't continue to meet his gaze. Leaning into his chest, he lets you hide your face, pulling the skirt of the dress up enough to hook his thumbs under the band of your panties.

Sliding them down, he sinks down as well, until he's kneeling before you. There's no where left to hide your face, so you put the back of your hand up to your mouth, sparing yourself from the look of adoration in his eyes.

He helps you step carefully out of your undergarment, before his hands move up your legs, this time hiking the skirt up from below. You gasp, stepping back and finding purchase behind yourself, moved so neatly into position as you had been. You don't ask him to stop, the sounds shivering from your lips were hot with desire, eyes pleading for him to continue before you lost your nerve.

With a tender smile he lifts the skirt of your dress up enough to shield himself from your sight. The warm kiss on your thigh nearly buckles your legs, but he holds you steady, putting one of your legs over his shoulder as his kisses move up the inside of your leg.

Strong hands brace you firmly as his tongue licks heavy against your slit. Your body bucks, hands gripping the material of your dress, steadied against his head. Pleasure shatters your thoughts and nothing makes it past your lips but exulted cries as the stoic marine's tongue speaks his needs and desires into your quavering pussy.