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#AND they would let him have them. He would drive up and walk inside and they'd call the manager to come over
dudeitiskarev · 22 hours
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If You Only Knew | Aaron Hotchner
My One and Only prequel
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Broken hearts find each other and in the process, they mend each other.
Word count: 10.7k
Tags/warnings: season 10 Hotch <3; cheating (on reader); food and alcohol consumption; Hotch has a soft spot for reader<3; lazy case talk whoops; canon typical violence; one bed trope; smut: unprotected and dirty office sex (p in v); secret relationship; stolen glances and kisses in forbidden places!!1!
Author’s note: I don’t usually do second parts mostly because I wrap up the story in a single one shot, but while writing the first fic I had this prequel in mind because oh boy, they have HISTORY (which is why it ended up being longer than My One and Only). Both can be read as a stand alone. First fic was based on Dress by miss T. Swift, and this one is like a mash up of every Taylor’s ovulation songs (I listened to this playlist a lot while writing this) 🙂‍↔️ Call It What You Want x I Can See You being the main inspo. Or were the songs inspired by them???🧐 it’s just so sexy sexy. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!
MASTERLIST
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There used to be an engagement ring on your right hand. 
A bright but simple ring that from the moment it was given to you, had you hopeful about your future. That future had always been uncertain. You rarely pictured yourself more than two years ahead, to begin with—for many reasons, neither worth mentioning—but no matter how long your future was, you were sure it was going to be just as bright as your ring. 
And how wrong you were…
It hadn’t been more than two months since your fiancé promised you the world when you caught him in a lie. You’d let it slip away, fidgeting your ring as a reminder that he was the one. 
If you hadn’t ignored the signs, you would’ve saved yourself from getting your heart ripped out. 
He cheated, and even worse, you caught him in the act, with another woman in your own bed. You stormed out leaving every door open. Zac came running behind you, yelling your name, but you didn’t stop. You ripped the engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him without looking back. That clink of the band bouncing on the pavement was so faint compared to the sound of your castle crumbling, and your prince kept yelling at you to come back.
You didn’t. You got in your car and drove off aimlessly. 
You’d been driving around the city blasting music since then, and yelling the lyrics hoping you’d go numb. You didn’t, but at least you had some clarity. 
You had nowhere to be. There was no home anymore, no bed to sleep on, and no arms to run to. The place you used to call home now was stained with lies and haunted by another woman. 
The only place that could shelter you for the night was the BAU. At the end of the day, that was your home. You spent most of your days there with the people you worked with. People who would take a bullet for you. They were your family—Derek being the one you loved the most—but you couldn’t run to him or any of them right now. The wound was too fresh and letting them see you like this would be disappointing and just… sad. They’ve always known you as a tough and reasonable woman. How were you supposed to tell them you weren’t that smart now that your entire relationship crumbled?
You parked at your usual spot and searched for your emergency go bag in the backseat. It was always stocked with everything you needed for at least a week. You weren’t planning on staying at the BAU for an entire week, of course, but also, you never knew. Your ex was capable of lighting your house on fire just to get rid of any evidence of his betrayal so for now, that bag was all you had. 
You took a deep breath and made your way inside the building. You walked through security as you always did and smiled at the night guard. It was Rick, the oldest of them all but you felt the safest when he was at the door.
“What brings you here at this hour, young lady?” Rick adjusted his ivy cap. 
It was past three in the morning. 
“Piled up paperwork,” you merely said. 
And he didn’t question you. “Oh, sure,” he answered politely with his old, raspy voice.  
You smiled at him and made your way to the elevator, pushing the number six as you always did. You kicked the bag with your knee until the doors dinged open. 
Not a single soul received you.
You walked past the glass doors and reached your desk, looking up at Hotch’s office that was right across. He had a couch there that you could use as your bed for a few hours. Everyone has slept there at least once— for whatever reason—and now it was your turn. You marched up the short stairs and paused. You knew his office remained unlocked (he once said that he’d lost the key, but deep down you knew he left it open in case anyone needed somewhere to crash for the night). 
You knocked, just in case, and once there was no answer, you twisted the knob. His perfume was faint in the air—soft and woody—so it was easy to assume he’d left not long ago. You closed the door behind you and walked to the couch, leaving your bag there and turning the lamp on. 
The dim light triggered the memories of the moment that tore you apart hours earlier: Another woman riding your fiancé. They even dared to light up romantic candles. 
Your fucking candles.
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You wasted three years of your life and now with a cool head, you realized it was in your hands how you handled it. It could either be the best thing that's happened to you or you could let it drag you down. 
Right then, you decided the first option was the only one. You stood there, both hands on your hips, your chin up and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air until your chest swelled. 
This was going to be the only night you’d let yourself mourn your relationship. No tears. Just you and a glass of scotch. It wasn’t your drink of choice but it was all Hotch kept in his office and you knew exactly where he kept the bottle (right under his espresso machine García had gotten him for his birthday a couple of years ago). You crouched down and opened the little cabinet. The bottle was almost full and you wondered if it was brand new or if he rarely drank. You shrugged it off. You poured yourself some and began pacing around his office.
You’ve been here a million times and you’d never paid much attention to all the things he had. There were quite a few awards granted by the bureau displayed on the wall behind his desk; a bunch of books, too. You ran your fingers through them as you walked from end to end. He had a picture of Jack and Haley over his desk and you looked around, searching for a picture of Beth. Your eye landed on her contagious smile, over the little table by his couch. You walked there to get a better look at the picture. She was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. You’d met her a few times and it was nice seeing Hotch in love again. After Haley, everyone thought he’d refuse to let someone in again, but when love knocks on your door there’s not much you can do. 
You sighed deeply and placed your empty glass in front of the picture. The alcohol was making you sleepy so you made yourself comfortable. You went to brush your teeth, put on your pajamas and fuzzy socks, made a blanket out of your blazer, and used your folded pants as a pillow.
You rubbed your feet together. It wasn’t a cold night, but you wished you didn’t have to spend it alone. 
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The constant sound of a pen scraping on paper gradually woke you up.
Shit. 
You meant to sleep only a few hours and have Hotch’s office as it was before he got here; pretend you’d gotten there earlier than everyone. You must’ve slept through your alarm. 
You slowly squinted your eyes open and caught Hotch sitting at his desk, brows low in deep thought.
How long has he been there?
“Hotch.” You rubbed your eyes and sat upright. “Hi. Sorry, I— What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the file.
So you didn’t sleep through your alarm. 
“When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”
“A few minutes ago.” He put the pen down and lifted his head to look at you. His face softened. 
He didn’t seem upset about you invading his office but you still felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, stayed until late last night and I was too sleepy to drive and—” You realized mid-sentence how bad you were lying.
But he let you. 
“It’s not a problem, you can always sleep here. As long as it’s not already taken.” He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his thumb with the rest of his fingers. You wondered how bad you looked. How bad everything seemed. “It has a foldable seat,” was all he said, gesturing at the couch. “There’s a blanket under it.”
“Oh, thanks. It wasn’t that cold.” You braced yourself. 
It was cold now.
“You can sleep for another hour,” he added. 
“We don’t have a case?” 
“No.” He glanced at the open door and then back at you. “Not yet anyway.”
Then why was he here so early?
You smiled at him and began to gather your things anyway. “Thank you, but I still should go. I’m… invading your space.”
“Oh, please. Don’t worry about it,” he said before going back to work on his paper. 
Even if he didn’t mind you sleeping there while he worked, you did. You stood up, stretched your neck a bit, and began to fold all of your clothes, putting them back in your bag. 
You felt his eyes on you every once in a while and just when you grabbed the evidence of your late night—the empty glass of scotch—he asked, “Is everything alright?”
You looked at him. There was that soft look again.
“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, fidgeting with your now invisible ring. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He didn’t have to say anything. He knew. You knew he knew just by that look he gave you. Wise. Emphatic. The ‘I’ve been there before’ look. 
He opened his mouth to add something, but his phone buzzed on the table, making him tear his eyes off you. He sighed as his brows lowered.
“Now we have a case?” You asked and he nodded. “I’ll put on some work-appropriate clothes, then.” You looked down at your pajamas.
“Take your time. We’ll meet in thirty.”
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The jet took off and the clouds were never-ending. 
Two women had been abducted (and murdered) already in Fort Myers before you were invited to investigate. Victimology and M.O. were discussed and you barely said a thing. Your mind kept wandering off to the night before and how miserable you felt. The phantom of betrayal was still heavy on your shoulders. 
Hotch sat next to you during the three-hour flight, and the only thing he said to you that wasn’t work-related was: ‘Would you like some coffee’, to which you gladly accepted. His eyes, though, kept asking if you were okay. 
Minutes before the jet touched the ground, your phone caught some signal and began to buzz uncontrollably against the table. You already knew who it was so you didn’t bother to glance at the screen, you just sighed in annoyance and put your phone in your pocket. You felt Hotch’s eyes on you again and you tried your best to ignore him.
Right now, he was your boss, not your friend. 
The moment the jet doors opened, the dense, humid air stuck to your skin. Everyone groaned in annoyance.
“Ugh, I hate Florida,” Emily commented. 
You didn’t mind it. You needed a bit of heat and sun, hoping they’d woosh away the gray cloud over your head.
Hotch assigned everyone’s tasks for the day and partnered you up with Morgan to interview the victims’ families. Smart move. It was known that Morgan was your person inside the team, and even if he didn’t know about your heartbreak right now, he’d surely find out soon after spending the day with you. That’s what Hotch wanted. For you to have someone to talk to if you wanted.
You would’ve preferred to be out in the field instead of inside an office, that way you’d have more distractions. Right now, as you talked to one of the victim’s husbands, your only distraction was your phone. Your ex started to call you again and spam-texting you. He was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t quite focus on your job. The one that you considered was your forte—when it came to good people. 
These men weren’t good people. They were exactly like your ex. 
And they got on your nerves. 
Morgan shot you a frown as he walked the last person out of the office, “What’s going on with you? You almost punched the guy.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.
“I would’ve if you hadn’t caught me.” You rolled your eyes. 
“I’m being dead serious, what’s going on with you?”
“He called his dead wife a whore, Morgan.”
“I’m not just talking about this. All morning you’ve been acting weird.”
There was his big brother attitude.
You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t not tell him. So you told him. Some of it. “Zac and I are fighting. He keeps calling but I’m not gonna answer yet. He’s gonna have to wait until I’m back.”
“What did he do?” He asked, brows shooting up with concern. 
You walked to the small coffee station the sheriff had set up for the team. “We’re just fighting.” You poured yourself some coffee. You couldn’t tell him everything. He was friends with Zac—and a really good one. 
“I don’t buy that,” Morgan insisted. “I know what your fights look like. This isn’t a fight over how he didn’t do the dishes.”
You hated how well he knew you. You and Zac. It was sad to think there wouldn’t be any more double dates with him and Savannah. 
“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” you merely said.
Morgan let out a huff and glared at you in silence. “Alright.” 
He respected you and didn’t bug you any more about it. And neither did Zac, thankfully. The messages and phone calls stopped but even then, you couldn’t get your mind off whatever he wanted to say. 
The day went by painfully slowly. Not many leads were found and the unsub seemed to have gone dormant, which meant the investigation was done for the day. 
Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were still finishing up a few things with the sheriff, and you decided to wait for them outside, sitting on the sidewalk. There was a dinner reservation at the hotel at nine. It was thirteen past nine and you’d been running on five cups of coffee. 
Your stomach rumbled. 
Steps came from behind. Morgan silently sat next to you and handed you a protein bar. He sat close, his arm touching yours. “Zac called me.” 
“Good for him.” You didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, you began to pick your nails. You weren’t hungry anymore. 
“And he told me.” Derek placed one hand over yours, stopping you from destroying your nails. 
You shot him a look. “What did he tell you?” You asked because you didn’t think Zac would rat himself out to Morgan. 
“I’m on your side,” he said. “He’s my friend, but you’re my sister. He’s dead to me now.” He quirked his brows. 
“What did he tell you, Morgan?”
“That you caught him cheating.” 
The disappointment on his face was as clear as the night sky.  
You tore your eyes off him and sighed.
“I was so stupid.” You rubbed your forehead. “I caught him in lies multiple times and I brushed them all off. Like a part of me wanted that to happen,” you confessed. 
“What do you mean? That you didn’t want to marry him?”
“I… I don’t know.” You looked back at Derek. Now that the truth was out you needed to talk about it. Maybe that way you could realize it was all your fault. “I loved him, and he was a great guy but at some point, after the engagement and before the lies, I stopped seeing a future with him. So I guess it’s my fau—”
“Nuh-uh.” Derek interrupted you, placing a finger over your lips. “He did this,” then booped your nose. 
You couldn't help but smile. “Yeah but I stopped being… a girlfriend to him,” you explained, moving your hands around to make your point. “I came home late, he’d wait for me with dinner but I just… stopped seeing him.” You sighed. It really was your fault to some extent now that you talked about it. “He sought the attention I stopped giving him on someone else. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want… to be the person who just works and can’t balance it with personal life.”
“It’s tough.” 
“Yeah, but you seem to make it work with Savannah.” You nudged his arm.
They had the kind of love you aspired to have one day.
“It took us a while, but we made it work. Still do. It’s a good thing she also has a time-consuming job. She just gets it. But it takes a lot of effort from both parties.”
You nodded in agreement. “Zac and I are over. This isn’t something we can talk about and get through and forget or forgive. He betrayed me.” 
Derek hung one arm over your shoulder and kissed your temple. “I know.”
“At least I don’t have to plan a wedding anymore. It seems exhausting.”
“Oh, believe me, it is.”
You gasped and pulled away to look at him. He had a grin on his face now. That’s what you needed. A smile from him even if it made you forget for just a moment. “What? What does that mean? Did you propose?!” 
“Whoa, whoa.” Emily came from behind and joined the conversation right away, standing in front of you. “Who’s proposing?”
“Morgan,” you were quick to respond. Anything to avoid anyone else knowing you’d been cheated on.
“Shhh!” He stood up, signaling you both to shut up with a finger over his lips and looking around to make sure no one else heard. “I’m planning to, alright. Don't…. Freak out. She can say no.”
“She’d be silly to say no,” Emily laughed a little. “Are you kidding?”
“You’re already planning the wedding,” you laughed too while standing up. “Don’t pretend you expect her to say no.”
“Of course, she’s gonna say yes.” Derek grinned. “I’m just playin’.”
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On the way to the hotel, the team split into two SUVs and Hotch kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign, with that know-it-all look, a pinch of concern. He was worried about you (and soon to be pissed for the stunt you pulled earlier). 
You got a triple room with Emily and JJ and you didn’t give them a chance to make any conversation with them since dinner was canceled.  You threw your bag over your bed and headed to the rooftop. You figured it’d be the only place none of the team would be. You needed fresh air, and you felt ready to talk to Zac. You reached the rooftop and pulled out your phone. Just the thought of hearing his voice tightened your throat. But you had to. You needed to know what he had to say.
You dialed his number and some agonizing butterflies still managed to flap their wings at the pit of your stomach with that first ‘hey’ on the other line. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your only witness was the moon hanging above and she wouldn’t judge you, so you finally allowed yourself to feel it.
His voice was a stab to your heart and a soft sob got caged in your throat. He said he was sorry, that he missed you, that he loved you. That you will always be the love of his life and that he knew he’d lost you. You muffled your sobs against your hand and once he was done talking, all you could reply was ‘okay’. 
Then you hung up.
“Damn it.” You let your phone slip through your fingers to cover your eyes with one hand while you braced yourself with the other arm. 
You stood there—for who knows how long—until a pair of unfamiliar arms enveloped you from the front. Their scent, though, was like home—faint and woody bathing you whole. You nestled against their chest and it only made you cry even more. 
“Shh. It’s okay.” 
Hotch’s voice snapped the knife out of your chest and he wasn’t about to let you bleed out. With one hand he caressed the back of your head, giving you soft scratches. The other rubbed your upper back with short and tender strokes. You weren’t planning on crumbling and you surely didn’t expect Hotch to be the one comforting you, but it felt right. You needed a hug and a gentle voice telling you it was okay to feel like this. 
Your entire relationship flashed before your eyes. You were mourning its death, after all., and there was no going back from it. You wouldn’t do that to yourself and had to accept that his laugh would eventually fade away from your memory and his eyes would no longer shine because of you—they haven’t for a while.
You peeled yourself from Hotch’s chest and noticed how his shirt was damp with your tears.
“Sorry, I—” you sniffed; looked up at him.
His soft eyes scanned your face for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ they asked, a sweet frown taking over his face. 
“You look like you need a drink,” he said instead.
You chuckled, nodding, even when the after-crying headache was creeping up on you. You would’ve taken the elevator to the first floor, but Hotch guided you through the staircase. 
“Were you up there when I got there?” you asked him. 
“No, I went there to clear my head and… found you standing there.”
After all these years working with him, he was still the hardest to read. “Is something bugging you?” you asked him. 
“No.”
Okay, then. You understood it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about (with you). 
You reached the first floor and headed to the bar. It wasn’t crowded, and Rossi was already there. You two joined him, each at either side of him.
“Ah, FBI agents,” Rossi told the bartender, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna interrogate me, are you?” he then asked you two.
“I don’t know. Should we?” Hotch asked with a tint of humor.
“You should interrogate her.” He gestured at you by twitching his mouth in your direction. “I heard she almost punched one of the victim’s husbands.”
“Thanks, Rossi.” You glared at him, and he couldn’t have cared less. 
“Is that true?” Hotch asked you, leaning a bit forward to glance at you over Rossi, even when the wall in front of you was a whole mirror. 
“Goodnight, kid.” Rossi slid off his stool. “Night Hotch. Keep an eye on her.”
“Great.” You glared at him again. “Just throw the grenade and run away.” He just laughed and waved a dismissive hand. He had clearly had quite a few drinks so you couldn’t blame him much.
“Is that true?” Hotch asked again.
“He was a jerk,” you responded, sipping on your drink. 
“That has nothing to do with it. Jerk or not, you can’t be acting like that.” His frown grew strong but his voice remained as soft as when he was comforting you moments earlier. 
“He cheated on her, Hotch.” You shot him a look through the mirror. “That’s why she went out and got abducted. Murdered.”
“I understand that, but we push our feelings aside, you know that.”
“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just… let it go, please. You know I won’t do it again.”
“Of course you won’t.” He took a short sip of his drink and looked forward, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “You’d be off the case if you pull something like that again.” 
A light bulb lit up over your head right then. 
“Do you think that’s why the unsub is targeting the victims?” You grabbed his forearm with excitement. “Because they got cheated on?”
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You were right and your tragedy helped save the last woman the unsub had abducted. You wrapped up the case with a bittersweet taste. 
On the flight home, Morgan sat next to you, and for some reason, you wished Hotch had sat there.
You searched for him on the jet and he’d chosen to sit farther back. You wanted to thank him for comforting you when he didn’t have to, and as if he’d read your mind—
Good job today—He texted—I know this was a particularly difficult case for you.
You lifted your head and caught him looking at you. You smiled at him as a response.
It was difficult, but it also helped you heal a little. 
Morgan nudged your arm gently, gesturing for you to take your headphones off. 
“Hm?” you raised your brows.
“Are you planning on going home now?” 
You sighed. “I have to.”
“You can stay with me for a few days. Savannah would be thrilled to have you over.”
“Thank you but I think that’d make me feel… small? I have to see him eventually. And I’d rather get it over with soon.” You smiled at him. “After that conversation, though, I’m not sure if I’ll have a place to stay so I’ll let you know if I need a place to crash for the night.”
“I’ll be there, then.”
When you made it to your place, Zac was waiting for you with dinner. You would’ve laughed, but you were too exhausted to even smile at him. 
“I’m just here to get my things,” you said, walking past him to your room.
You smelled fresh paint on your way there, and you really laughed then. He’d repainted the whole thing. Did he think changing the wall color would make you forget what happened there? 
“It’s your favorite color.” Zac stood at the door.
“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed.
You threw all your belongings in two suitcases and left. 
To never come back.
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“You’re getting discharged.” Hotch drew open the curtain of your cubicle.
“What? What about Morgan?” You sat upright, keeping the ice close to the bump on your head. You’d been in a car crash in the middle of a prosecution. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He just dislocated his shoulder.”
“Well, the doctor said I can’t fly, let alone drive.” You rolled your eyes. “So who’s driving me back to Quantico?”
“I am.” You couldn’t help but let out a huff. “Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.”
“It’s seventeen hours, Hotch. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can take an overnight bus or something.”
“You’re not taking any bus. You got a brain bleed. Someone’s gotta be there if something happens.” He glared at you. “Gather your things. I’ll bring the car. A nurse will walk you out.”
Your things were only your badge and gun. Everything else was still at the hotel, so you assumed you were going to make a stop there before hitting the road back to Quantico.  
You were officially discharged by your doctor minutes later and you’d underestimated Hotch’s efficiency. He’d already gone to the hotel to get your things. He even bought snacks—your favorite snacks. 
You reclined your seat and threw a blanket over you. Your head was much better but it still hurt despite you being high on painkillers.
“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater on?”
“Not cold.” You assured him. You just wanted to make yourself cozy. “Hotch, I don’t know if I’m gonna handle a seventeen-hour drive.”
“I know.” He gave you a quick glance. “I don’t think I will either. We’ll make a stop if you need to. Just let me know.”
You dozed off and on during the first two hours—your eyes darting to Hotch’s firm hands on the steering wheel—until it started raining. Normally, you would’ve been on high alert since you weren’t a fan of driving when it rained, but it was Hotch who was driving. And he was a great driver. 
The sound of the thick drops hitting the windshield turned out to be a perfect lullaby and helped you fall into a deep and cozy slumber. A dream began to take over your mind at some point but it didn’t become one entirely. 
Loud noises dragged you out of it.
You blinked your eyes open. You were parked on the side road, and the rain wasn’t normal rain anymore. It was loud, hitting the rooftop like daggers. You feared it might fall through. 
“Are those hailstones?” You adjusted the seat back straight.
“Not yet,” Hotch responded. “But we can’t keep driving like this. I can barely see past the hood. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m no weather expert but I’m sure there’s a storm coming.”
Hotch nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to make an emergency stop.” He pulled out his phone and typed something. “There’s a motel 3 miles away. We can spend a few hours there until the storm passes.”
“You just said it’s dangerous to keep driving.”
“It’s more dangerous to stay here or on the side of the road. Plus you need to rest. It’s been a long drive already.” 
Long? You glanced at the clock on the radio. 
“It’s been six hours already?!” Your eyes widened.
It didn’t feel like it, though.
“You snored half of it.” He teased, his soft dimples making their first appearance of the night.
“I did not,” you laughed a little. 
You knew he was just kidding, but you clearly needed those hours of deep sleep. Your headache was much better now.
Hotch kept the blinkers on as he started driving again, slowly until the map on his phone signaled him to turn right. 
There was a blue-light vacancy sign glitching. 
“This is it?” you asked. The place looked straight out of a horror film and the dark sky didn’t help.
“You stay here,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll check if they have any rooms.”
You didn’t disagree and locked the doors once he stepped out. Just in case. 
Minutes later, your phone buzzed.
There’s only one room available, Hotch texted you. 
Two beds? you texted back right away.
King, he replied.
Great. It was either sharing a bed with Hotch or staying in the car.
I don’t mind if you don’t, you texted. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Then you added, we’ll only be here a few hours until the rain stops, right?
Yes. Don’t move. I’ll come get you, he replied.
You gathered your things within reach, as gently as possible so your brain wouldn’t get all scrambled by sudden movements and unlocked the doors for Hotch.
He opened the door and ducked his head inside. “It’s the farthest room,” he raised his voice over the loud rain.
“That’s fine,” you matched his tone. “Let’s make one trip. I can carry my things.”
“You sure?” he frowned in an attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You nodded and stepped out of the car. 
Once you had your things and Hotch had his, he took the lead with you walking fast behind him with your head low. You both were already drenched so there was no point in running. 
The room was better than what you expected. It welcomed you with warm air, one bed, a small desk facing the window, an old TV, and a bathroom. They even had a small station with a kettle and tea/coffee, and the heater was on
You stripped out some of your clothes right next to the heater and changed your muddy shoes for your slippers. 
“Do you mind if I take the bathroom first?” You asked him.
“Not at all,” Hotch replied, ridding himself of some damp clothes.
You walked past him with your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom. You unlocked it right away. What if you passed out? It was going to be a quick shower to regulate your body temperature, but with a brain injury, you never knew. 
You were in and out of it in less than ten minutes and Hotch had already changed his clothes to sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was always so strange seeing him out of his suits.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, hanging his clothes on the improvised drying rack he made out of the single chair and desk and placing it close to the heater. 
“A little.” You sat on the left side of the bed.
Hotch grabbed the snack bag and displayed what he’d bought over the bed. Along with your favorite snacks were some fruits and two instant noodle soups. The first time you pulled out one of those, Reid told you all about them and how they were some of the most cancerous foods there could be, but they were a guilty pleasure and you didn’t eat them often. 
“Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll take a shower now.”
He was being a good caretaker to you and you trusted him so all you had to do today and tomorrow was obey him. You could shut your brain down when Hotch was around.  
You turned the TV on to have some background noise and put on the news. The weather had been catastrophic already in some parts and they said it was going to last at least eight more hours. It was 8 pm so you didn’t mind waiting all night for it to pass. It was a cozy room, after all.
You prepared yourself the instant soup and sat cross-legged on the bed. Your phone buzzed against the mattress.
How’s your head? Morgan texted.
Better. Your shoulder?
I have a good doctor at home so I’ll be alright. How’s the trip going? 
The sky is falling here. We had to make a stop for the night. 
Sharing a room with the boss? ;) 
You didn’t know why he would say that or why you would lie about your answer, but you lied. 
Of course not! We’re gonna wait for the rain to pass before hitting the road again.
You hit send right when Hotch came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. 
You put the phone down. “There’s still hot water in the kettle.”
You rarely saw him eat, and since all he bought were things you liked, you assumed he liked them too. He prepared his soup as well and sat on the other side of the bed.
“It looks pretty bad.” He glanced at the TV.
“They said it’s gonna last all night.”
Something was odd about him now. Maybe it was the fatigue of the trip that hit him after the shower. But he kept looking at his phone and putting it down. You saw him clench his jaw more than once. 
“Everything okay?” You had to ask.
He gave you a look. 
Everything was not okay.
He hesitated a moment, twisting the noodles with his fork but never taking a bite. 
“Beth got a job offer in Hong Kong.” Oh. “And she’s boarding the flight now.” Oh, no. “She asked my opinion before taking the job offer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I encouraged her to take it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
You didn’t want him to regret his choice about encouraging her—she put him between a rock and a hard place—but you had a string of questions about it. What if she asked for his opinion because she wanted to stay and settle, but needed him to say it?  
“So you let her go,” you said instead and he nodded. “How’s Jack handling it?”
“She talked to him, we took him to Orlando for the weekend and he understood it but”—he sighed—“I know it’s been hard on him, too.” You couldn’t imagine how his son was feeling. He was a kid and he’d lost someone, too. “But we ended it on good terms.” He raised his brows. 
“Why did you offer to drive me home?” You asked. “You could be there with her by now. At the airport.”
“We said our goodbyes.” He shook his head and looked down. “It would’ve made it more painful.” 
You hummed in agreement. “They say if you love someone, you let them go. If they come back, it means they’re truly yours.” He looked at you. “She could come back.”
His eyes were glassy. For some reason, you felt he was thinking about Haley, too. He was once again losing someone he loved—by choice this time but losing her nonetheless.
“Sorry,” he sort of laughed. “I’m talking about my heartbreak when…”
When you were recently heartbroken too. 
“Don’t worry about me. I’m—”
“Fine,” he finished your sentence. “Of course you are.” 
“I’m over it and I laugh about it now. I wasted three years of my life. My good years.” You chucked. “It's funny now.”
“It’s not. And you still have a few more good years ahead of you?” He commented, confused.
You talked as if your youth was already over but you had a good reason. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna be as hot as I was when I met him.” He smirked. “He went for a younger woman.” You then added. 
“Younger?” He raised his brows. 
“I know. I think that’s why I feel old. But she was a 25-year-old trainee.”
“That’s not much younger than you.” 
“You flatter me.” You let out a small laugh. “I just… Why do men always go for the younger woman?”
He took a subtle deep breath. “I—“
“Generally speaking,” you added. “Men who cheat go for a younger woman.”
“I don’t know but I’m sure Reid can give you all the statistics about it.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear them.” 
You let out a yawn, and soon Hotch did too. You two agreed in silence it was time for bed already.
“It’s not cold in here so I’ll sleep over the bed covers,” he commented.
“Hotch, you don’t have to. I don’t mind, honestly. I’ve shared beds with most of our team.”
“Alright,” he let out a small laugh, raising his brows. 
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The rain stopped around 5 am and within thirty minutes you both were up and ready to hit the road again. There were ten hours ahead of you and this time you didn’t feel the need to sleep through it. You slept like a baby last night and also, talking to Hotch was really nice, and he seemed well-rested too. 
You stopped for a quick breakfast two hours in and had it in the car to optimize time. Throughout the drive, there were talks about the landscapes and weather and he’d throw in some random stories about his brother, or Haley and Jack when something reminded him of them.  
Your favorite was how he and Jack had a tradition whenever it rained: chocolate chip cookies. And how Jack had already decided that he was going to do the same with his kids one day. 
And the more the clock ticked, the more you wished he’d slow down his speed (even when he was going just below the limit). You didn’t want the trip to end, but it had to eventually.
Around 3 pm. Hotch was dropping you off at your place.
“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he commented. Only Derek had had the chance to visit your new place.
“It is. It’s mostly old people that live here so it’s very quiet all the time.” You smiled. Silence filled the air for a moment. You missed him already. “Hey, I know we’re both exhausted but… would you like to come in? We can make some decent lunch.”
Hotch took a subtle deep breath. “I would. I’d love to but… Jack’s waiting for me. I was supposed to arrive yesterday and he was excited to see me. I… I’m picking him up at school after this.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” You gulped. Stupid.
Why did you feel nervous around him all of a sudden?
“Maybe some other time?” He asked.
Your stomach fluttered. 
“Definitely.”
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Spencer was turning 33, and Penelope thought throwing him a surprise birthday party was a good idea. She asked everyone to show up earlier than usual to decorate a conference room. You were the first one to show, then one by one everyone arrived. 
The only one you wanted to see walking through the door, though, wasn’t the birthday boy. It was Hotch. 
After the gloomy night at the motel, Hotch became a permanent thought. You didn’t know if it was because he took such good care of you, or because he trusted you to tell you a personal thing—or both—but since that night, something changed.
You’d always admired him, but this was more than that. Your cheeks grew warm whenever he looked at you. You started to feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. And you felt ridiculous. He was your boss, he’d been your boss for five years so why had your feelings changed? 
The truth was, you’d always had certain feelings for him. Nothing ever happened before because you met him as a divorced man, who only had time for his kid and his job, so at the time, besides your boss, he was a nice face to look at (a very nice face). Then Haley's death came and he shut himself down, drowning himself in work. You started dating Zac soon after, then you didn’t have eyes for Hotch anymore. He became who he was: your boss. 
Now, that both were single, your true feelings for him were coming afloat. Of course, you didn’t let them show; how your stomach fluttered at his sudden presence and constant glances. You insisted those were in your head, that he’d always looked at you the same amount or the same way, but when the attraction is reciprocated, there’s a spark. 
That spark almost lit up a fire in your chest when he finally showed up. The lights were off, but you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere, and he was walking up to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, standing next to you.
“You’re late,” you whispered back.
“Is Reid here?”
“No, but we did all the work.”
“I’m… the boss for a reason.”
You held back a laugh. Thank god it was dark.
“Shhh, there he comes!” Penelope whispered loudly. 
Everyone moved to their assigned spot and your hand accidentally brushed his in the process. “Sorry.”
It’s okay, he whispered. 
That accidental touch was the first of many not-so-accidental.
You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but he looked at you, paid attention, listened to every word you had to say. He saw right through you. 
There weren’t many moments outside work, though, and that confused you even more. You couldn't ask him to see each other casually. It wasn’t something you or he did, and it made you wonder. You wondered. Always. Every day. Every hour. Every time you looked at him you wondered what was going through his mind. 
Weeks went by where unspoken words were said. Your feet itched to go to his office every time you knew he was going to stay until late. To offer him some coffee, or ask him if he needed help with something but all you always ever did was turn in your reports and linger there for a second or two, hoping he’d ask you to stay. 
And tonight was no exception. You had your excuse to stay late this time, though. A doctor's appointment forced you to clock in late, and for that, you had to stay to meet your weekly worked hours. 
Everyone had left, even the janitors. 
Everyone except for Hotch, of course. 
You glanced at your watch when you finally finished your last report. It wasn’t even an appropriate time to have dinner. You were dreaming of your bathtub and a glass of wine with some cheese.
You stacked your folders and adjusted your skirt before going to Hotch's office to hand them in. You knocked three times and waited for his Come in! to enter the room. 
You walked in and he wasn’t at his desk as he usually was. He was on his couch, with only the lamp lights on; he’d removed his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up right below his elbows. 
“Hey, I… I finished my reports.”
He looked at you—stared. You swore a faint smile was curling the corner of his lips. “Toss them on my desk.”
You slowly walked in and did as he said. “Are you… leaving soon?” you clasped your hands behind you.
“I don’t think so.”
“Is there… something I can help you with?” You gestured at the folder he was holding.
He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, actually.” He scooted to give you space on the couch. “Close the door.”
You did as he said and sat next to him, but not quite close. He put the folder on the coffee table and spread all the documents, filling in every gap.
“Choose,” he said. 
You laughed. “What?” 
“Our next case.”
“Oh, I’m not… I don’t think I’m qualified to do that, am I?”
“There’s a reason I’m asking you to choose.” He raised his brows to make his point. 
Your eyes flickered between pictures and reports. Neither was worse than the other. “Well, it’s not like I can choose, right? You have to… study each one of these murders to decide which one has more priority. Which is… a bit twisted. As if one is less important than the other.”
“It’s hard.” 
“And you do it every time.”
Hotch nodded. “JJ used to do it when she was the liaison. Now she still does when I can’t or ask her to since she has the right criteria, but it’s on me now.” He raised his brows as he spoke. 
Your eyes were stuck on his lips, a sudden urge to kiss him brewing in your chest. 
“I don’t know how you do your job without breaking down sometimes,” you said. He smiled, scanning your face up and down. God, you really wanted to kiss him. “I mean your unit chief job.” You tore your eyes off him and adjusted yourself a bit farther on the couch. You had the perfect view of the side of his head.  
Hotch leaned forward resting his elbows over his knees and lowered his head. “It’s… the one thing I’m good at.”
“Not the only thing,” you let out a breathy laugh. He turned to you, raising his brows as if he were waiting for you to mention another thing he was good at. “You’re a great dad, Hotch,” you said without hesitation. 
“I,” he licked his lips. “I could be better.”
“We all could be better at everything, doesn’t mean we’re bad at it.”
Hotch sighed. “You’re right.”
“You’re also… good at sports?”
“Stop.” He chuckled, lowering his head once again. 
You rubbed his back by impulse, and you withdrew it right away as you felt him tense up. Your hand tingled at that brief contact and it burnt when he reached for it and enveloped it with his large hand. Your heart rate skyrocketed and all you could hear was your pulse in your ears (not that any of you was saying anything anymore).
He turned his head to you, adjusting farther back so his back would rest on the couch. Your shoulders touched now, and his hand was still on yours and this time, his thumb caressed your knuckles, and his eyes were stuck on your face. 
The urge to kiss him was flush against your skin. 
“You should go home,” he said, swallowing thickly. “It’s late.”
“Yeah,” you licked your lips. “I really should.”
He let go of your hand and with the same one, you caressed the side of his head where a few satly strands of hair were gloriously shining. You put the short pieces behind his ear and cradled his face. You held your breath. What the hell were you doing? 
A pained frown took over his face and he shut his eyes for a second. You wanted to kiss the frown away so you leaned, kissing his cheek. He tilted his face until the tip of your nose was touching his. 
His shaky breath ghosted your lips. 
Would a kiss on the lips be so bad?
You were closing the gap before you thought about the answer. Your lips touched—a soft peck—and there was barely a sound when you pulled away.
“I’m sorry I”— You placed your fingers over your lips right away.
Hotch wasn’t giving you any signs of anything at all and panic began to take over you. 
God, what have you done?
Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper filled with longing. He was leaning closer. He studied your face from up close as he paused. His nostrils flared and he licked his bottom lip before going for a kiss. Just as tender as yours. 
At first.
One of his hands found a spot on the side of your thigh while the other went to the back of your neck, bringing you closer and allowing the kiss to intensify. His chin scraped yours with his barely noticeable beard and his lips were gentle despite his sudden urge. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this—him kissing you back or reciprocating any sign of affection. But he was, and he was getting so into it his tongue was already teasing yours. 
A small moan escaped you when he opened his mouth a bit more. Your breathing quickened with each kiss and when your tongues finally tangled together, you lost it. 
“C’mere.” He murmured against your lips.
You hopped on his lap and gave yourself in. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight and pressed your hips down. It became sloppy with each kiss already and only heavy breathing filled the room. His heavy breathing. 
He was so needy for you.
This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but you were ecstatic. No matter how far this went, it already was much better than your bathtub. 
You let go of his lips for a second. You needed to catch some air. 
“Aaron.” 
You’d never called him by his first name. Never, and right then you wished you’d done it sooner. It seemed to have awakened something in him. He groaned into another kiss and grabbed your hips tightly, encouraging you to move them. 
He liked it. He loved it. 
You obeyed, grinding him and going back for another kiss. His hands were still shy, hesitantly resting at the curves of your hips. You pressed your hips down. His hard bulge was right there. You couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, cupping his face harshly with both hands as if he could go anywhere. He was a prisoner of your body; you had him caged with your legs and arms and he didn’t seem to mind at all. 
His hands raked down your curves, lower on either side of your hips and slowly traveled down, cupping your ass and guiding you back and forth. 
Hotch’s lap was heaven on earth. 
You moaned into a wetter kiss, tongues gliding together. You were embarrassingly loud now. He smiled against your lips. 
“Sorry.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, pressing your foreheads together.
His chest was heaving in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands went up to your lower back and he pulled you close into a tight and tender hug. 
A sudden clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. He was your boss for fucks sake. You were sure, that once you came out of his office, you would lose your job. The one you fought so hard for. 
“I… I have to go.” You slid off his lap and stood in front of him, adjusting your skirt. 
He was staring up at you through his dark lashes and you couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed. You wiped your lips clean and took a few steps back. 
“I am so sorry this—” You took a few more steps backward on your way to the door and turned all the way, giving him your back.
Hotch stood up, his broad silhouette taking a few steps towards you. He said your name with his deep, deep, oh-so-deep voice as your hand touched the knob. He was right behind you now, his torso glued to your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. 
You shut your eyes as he inhaled your hair.
You locked the door.  
“Are you sure?” he murmured next to your ear. 
All you could do was nod. 
He flipped you around by your hips, capturing your mouth, body, and soul. This time he groaned like an animal, hungry for you. God, he was desperate and your entire body fluttered. Your knees when weak right when he scooped you by your thighs and walked with you towards his desk, plopping you there while knocking everything down with one hand. 
No words were necessary. His hands talked for him and the kiss was never-ending. You were a fucking mess already. You were at his will, so open to let him do anything he wanted with you. 
To you. 
The air was getting hotter and the layers of clothes began to bother you. His body heat and breath were to blame. He was everywhere. 
He sneaked one hand in between your legs and gripped your inner thigh, his thick fingers sinking into your flesh. You squirmed over the wood, encouraging him to go a little higher. He did, the tip of his fingers ghosting your panties. They were damp with your arousal already (you’d felt it leak through you when you were kissing on the couch), and by the way he smiled, he could feel it. He lifted your skirt up to your waist and pressed himself onto you, his erection finding your cunt like a magnet. He cursed under his breath, looking down at where your bodies touched the most. But not quite. 
You wanted to touch him, feel how hard he was. You palmed his thick bulge and gulped. Your mouth went dry as you began to massage the outline of his erection while making eye contact, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. 
There were so many clothes in the way, making it hard to focus but then he grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes and whatever was about to come, was the best thing that would ever happen to you.
He sneaked his fingers from the side of your panties, the wet sound of your arousal against his fingers was embarrassing. But it made him drop his head to your shoulder. He cursed again and began to massage you, spreading your arousal all over with his thick fingers. Your cunt clenched, desperate to have him inside you. You cursed under your breath with pleasure as his fingers found your wet entrance. He made circular motions without entering, teasing you. 
He was driving you insane, too.  
“Hotch,” you murmured, I need you, you wanted to say, but he shushed you. Gently. Tenderly. Shushed you with an open-mouth kiss. 
You whimpered against his mouth and with clumsy hands, undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sneaking your hand inside to touch his length. Finally. You whined again at that first touch. His skin was burning.
“Would you fuck me?” you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his length. They barely covered him. 
“Of course, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. Let me feel you.”
He moved his fingers up and down between your wet folds, feeling you as he’d said. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled, gentle and put the perfect amount of pressure.
But you were growing desperate. 
“Please, Hotch.”
He didn’t give you any warning and in one fell swoop, he had his length out. Fuck. His cock stood on its own—thick and long—so close to your cunt. The tip glistened with his arousal. 
“Scoot to the edge,” he ordered. 
You did as he said and he lined himself at your entrance and barely pushed the head inside. You both let out a quiet moan at the same time.
God, it felt good. He felt good. You both looked down and watched as he slowly entered, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. He looked at you then and you lost it. 
Aaron Hotchner was fucking you. Aaron Hotchner, whom you admired and respected. Aaron Hotchner, the man who has been messing with your head these past few months. 
This was an eye-opening experience. Paradise on earth. How have you gone so many years without him? New feelings were brewing in your chest with each thrust, each stare, and each kiss. 
You gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer as he began to move, rocking his hips back and forth. You’d milked his dark and thick curls with your arousal already, making each slam sticky to your skin. 
His cock was exquisite, spreading you open and reaching every right spot. 
“You feel so good, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You couldn’t resist. 
He kept fucking you until your butt went numb, you needed to finish but you didn’t want this to end. Ever
You showed your discomfort by adjusting over the desk.
Bend over, he whispered on your lips. 
He kissed you one last time before you hopped off the desk and obeyed, bending over his desk and glancing at him over your shoulder, ready to take him. He squeezed your ass with both hands and lined himself again. He teased you, pulling it out and moving it up and down. You let out a needy hum, wiggling your ass, begging for his cock.
He entered again and this time, he was ruthless. He slammed into you, hard. Then again. And again. Over and over until the only sound in the room was the clash of skin against skin. You had to muffle your moans—and smile—by biting your forearm. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, Aaron Hotchener fucked good. So good you were seeing stars already and so close to grazing the sky. 
He bent down too for a moment just to bring you up close into a hug. “Come here.” You already knew he liked having you close.
He sneaked one hand from the front and massaged your clit as his thrust became sloppy. You threw your head back to his shoulder, and he captured the underside of your chin between his teeth. 
This was it. The beginning of an addiction you never wanted to rid yourself of.
There were a few more slams before he came. Hard. He was a vocal man. Grunting and groaning and cursing quietly as his cock twitched inside you. 
Your legs were shaking, and if it wasn’t because he was holding you, you were sure you would’ve fallen to your knees. And he didn’t let go of you for a moment, his cock still inside you. 
You needed to know what he was thinking, see his face. 
You took a sharp breath to speak, but he slipped his cock out and you gasped. His cum dripped down.
“Sorry,” he murmured and was quick to clean you with a tissue. 
You finally turned around and caught a look on his face you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t disappointment. But it wasn’t a positive thing. 
“This“—he began, buttoning his pants—“changes everything.” He glared at you. 
You adjusted your skirt and pressed your lips together. “I know.” 
“And it can’t happen ever again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach for a second as he added, “Not here.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip
You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile.  
“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” You walked up to him, placing your palm flat over his chest. His heart was still racing. “Not here.”
You kissed him, and he kissed you back.
“Should we, uh, leave together?” you asked, licking your lips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You can leave first.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” 
“See you tomorrow.” He nodded and stole another kiss before you left.
You walked out of the building so put together as if nothing had happened, and kept a straight face until you were inside your car.
“Holy fuck,” you laughed; squealed, almost.
That really happened. You covered your face with both hands trying to come back to earth. 
You decided to drive off before Hotch appeared in the parking lot, or else you wouldn’t resist taking him right there all over again. You replayed what had happened in your head the entire drive and as soon as you made it home, he texted you. 
I hope you know this isn’t something casual or unimportant to me. 
You smiled. You loved that he couldn’t hide his professionalism when texting. 
I know, you texted back, for me either. Believe me
Good, he replied.
Goodnight, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.
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Tomorrow came and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you agreed: no one could know about it. 
He explained to you, when no one was around, how relationships within the bureau had a reputation. It would’ve been different if he was at the same level as you, but since he was your superior, it wouldn’t be well seen. 
So this being a secret was more for him than for you, but you didn’t mind. It was such a rush. The whole forbidden thing did something to you, which caused you to be horny at work more than once. 
But he made up for it when you saw each other at his place or yours. 
There, it was different. You allowed yourself to be softer and he didn’t hold back any kiss or touch. His affection confused you, though, since the talk hadn’t come up yet. The ‘what are we?’ talk, and you didn’t want to be the girl who asked that after the second date.
There was sex—lots of it—, there were dinners, movie nights, and everything couples did, so it made sense if you asked, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to spoil the magic. 
Because it was magical, your lives took an awful turn when you got your hearts broken and you both were right at the curve to meet each other. He’d been there, in front of you this whole time and a fragment of you glued back together every time he stared into your eyes while nothing was said. While he caressed your face and kissed you just because he wanted to. He managed to heal you between the lines, with subtle words that’d get stuck at the back of your mind. 
And the more you two met outside work—whether it was at his place or yours, his bed, or a fancy hotel room—your feelings for him intensified. 
They were worse on nights like these, when you found yourself tangled between sheets with him after sex, talking about anything and everything. 
He often had an expression of everlasting love. 
At least, you liked to think that way. 
“What are you thinking?” He asked you with that glimmer in his eyes.
You sucked in a breath and brushed the front pieces of his hair with your fingers. “Did you get Morgan’s wedding invitation?”
You don’t know why, but he laughed. “I did, yes.”
“I think we should bring a date.”
“Why?”
“We have a plus one and… I don’t know. I’m gonna be wearing a dress so for your sake, I should have a date. That isn’t you.”
“Oh, really?” He teased, placing a kiss on your ear. 
“This is inappropriate, Agent Hotchner, I’m your subordinate.” You laughed. You were ticklish there.
“Not when you’re in my bed.” He adjusted himself on top of you, lowering to kiss you. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
You laughed again. 
You loved it.
Loved him. 
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I hope you liked it!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts about it too!🤭❤️‍🔥
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suguru-getos · 2 days
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-> 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕤 - 𝕘𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝕩 𝕗!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
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a/n: it’s been a while since i wrote something comforting w/ my baby 🥺🩵 | warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, smut, oral, breeding, baths 🛁, aftercare
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the weekend! the bloody weekend! you could swear everyday at work you’d wander off to the thought of getting some much needed rest, getting some solace & some soft and tender slow-ness to your otherwise fast paced routine. it was getting mundane — coming home from work, having dinner with your husband, sometimes (oftentimes) having dinner alone, and then being too exhausted to do anything but surrendering to slumber.
satoru was couped up in missions, busy as ever. being the gojo clan’s head and one of the key members of sorcerery had it’s disadvantages. sigh. at this point, you’re starting to get cranky with just how much you ache for him, just how much you miss him.
your thoughts are hazy, the only thing that’s keeping you going despite the sheer exhaustion your body is going through is how satoru will lose it. he bought your last company — because they wouldn’t give you sick off. you snickered at the rollback of memories. now that company is one of the prominent ones in japan. you could may as well be the ceo & enjoy, but satoru knows, or as he says, “you’re a masochist aren’t you princess? love tormenting yourself?” yeah, you kind of… do. you just want to work because it helps you not get bored… and makes you realize that you could have it if you wanted to; without anyone’s help. so, when it comes to your job, you truly try your best to keep satoru at bay.
you drive home and get inside, opening the locked door. your beautiful cat comes and nuzzles against your leg, and you kneel, kissing his forehead & letting him boop his nose against yours. the smell of home was always divine, always soothing & always comforting. you wonder if satoru does something to this god damn gojo estate to make it so inhabitable.
“oh? jesus he’s trying to compete again?” his footsteps echo and your blush creeps in instantly at his voice. despite being married for a few years, he still manages to give you the same butterflies as he did on the very first date. wearing cushioned slip ons, walking towards the door as looming & large that he is, his soft baby grin is demanding a kiss. “i told your little kitty that i’d be the first to kiss mama. look at him though.” he grins, leaning in to reach your stature and capturing your lips in a soft, exquisitely gentle kiss. the pads of his fingers grip your chin, his hunger for you is insatiable yet, satoru makes sure to love you in a way you’ve always needed. you often wonder how he does that — how he knows when you need your guts rearranged and when you need reassurance. you suppose you’ve just gotten lucky in choosing the perfect man to exist.
“i missed my baddie.” he winks, leaning away, his usual glossed lips shining so much more with your saliva coating them. “come on~” he coos, holding your bag and letting you rest. the next moment you’re embraced princess-style, leaning against his chest & all thoughts whatsoever frighteningly subdued with his cologne. “i love you, toru, missed you.” you managed to mumble out, barely audible.
it’s truly magnetic, how he manages to make such a putty out of someone so formidable & so unbending, so firm & so stern with anything & everything. if the people around you would see you with your husband, they’d get confused with your entire being.
“i love you so much more, missed you every second, every minute of the day.” he hums, nuzzling his nose against you & kissing the crown of your head. “i’ve ran a bath for you pri-”
you cut him off, not your fault he looks entirely godly, unfathomably devoted & so nurturing. you had to cut him off with a kiss. lips hungrily devouring his, hands threading against his hair and scratching his undercut. it’s like you turn a different switch on whenever you teasingly caress his undercut. it smells so good — he’s already making you loopy.
you’re the only one who cuts off the kiss, leaning back and panting softly. “or… maybe she can have a bath after.” satoru coos, gentle as ever. leaning in and exhaling against the shell of your ear. “after she’s given what she needs… mm?”
and just like that you’re nestled against the plush mattress of your master bedroom. the lighting dim enough to unwind, satoru’s large & looming hands threading through your clothes and unlayering you. “my sweet present!” he chirps, grinning and rewarding you with sweet kisses with every layer of clothing that’s discarded.
your giggles echo through the room when you’re finally naked, his own tee leaves his body, granting your parched senses the sight of his abs. he smiles, holding your wrist and letting your palm brush against his abs. “all yours.” it’s like a prayer, no — it’s the inverse of it, it’s like he’s declaring something for the both of you. that no matter what the ring on his finger & the name on his heart will always be yours.
“wan’ you so bad.” you managed to whine, needily glazed at his face & pouting. “me too, little baby. want you so bad. need to feel you, need to taste you.” he smiles softly, leaning in and holding both your wrists in one hand, pinning him atop your head against the mattress while his mouth continues to labor against your supple skin. muzzled! satoru needs to get muzzled — with how his teeth graze at your skin, how his mouth marks and breaks your skin with prominent hickeys.
your submission is evident with the way you squirm under him, panting heavily. “please- mm~” the sweet ache in your pelvis is too much to bear. especially when his mouth wraps around your tits, suckling softly, nibbling at it softly. “that’s it, sing for me.” he hums, kneading the other one & pinching the lonely nipple.
your wrist is having a mind of it’s own, struggling to touch him, to feel him. it enables a soft smirk out of him. it’s always nice to have an example of you wanting him as much as he does. his hand leaves your chainned wrist, rendering you free & letting you touch & caress his muscular, broad back, play with his hair, respond with kisses and hickeys of your own.
a soft trail of kisses from the valley of your breasts to your sternum, reaching your waist, followed by a needy inhale of your dripping cunt disarrayed your thoughts completely. “aw she missed me too.” satoru nuzzles his nose against your puffy, needy clit, spreading your pussy-lips with his thumbs. “my little girl missed me too~” he always talks to you down there, how could it not make you hoplessly throb?
he chuckles when you do so, “yeah? wanna kiss me?” he leans in and starts suckling at your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“gah- toru! nn~” you moaned out at the warmth of his mouth against you, at the way his tongue flicked at your clit over & over. so skillful, all-knowing of your pleasure points. his thumb comes to play again, pushing the protective hood up & exposing your clit bare. your eyes widen when he starts licking and suckling rhythmically and you scream out at the soft, but firm nibbling of your nerve bundle. you could come undone so easily it was almost embarrassing.
“m’ close! sah- mm~ toru- oh god-”
your moans are making the tent in his pants ten times harder to bear, pre-staining him as he continues to ravage you senselessly. parched. hungry. starving…
your body betrays you as you topple off the apex of pleasure, shivering like a dried autumn leaf beneath him and letting the powerful waves of pleasure take you for a ride. satoru’s tongue mercilessly rides it out for you, half-lidded at the taste of you. you’re molten sin.
“good girl, that’s it.” his lips shine with your essence coated, and he licks em’ with his tongue and grins. high on you. dazed on you. the sound of his zipper echoes through the room, dwindling with your panting.
a sinful moan escapes you when his fat mushroom tip plunges against your sobbing hole, his own disarrayed groan prominent. the stretch and the ache is undeniable, your hands helplessly latching onto his back and your pussy twitching & clamping to get used to him. satoru is big. you’d think you’d get used to him after all these years but not quite so…
his tongue wraps around your nipple as he hums. “so warm and tight, so fit to be my breeding baby.” the words out of his mouth are filth. and yet with the way you helplessly twitch around him he knows you love it. his cock starts to move inside you, rutting against the sweet spots you have and smirking at the lewd noises your cunt makes for him. “fuck- fuck- feels s’ good! ca-can’t oh my god-!” you cry out, eyes losing focus, mind and body tamed just right.
“yeah? m’ your god baby? the honored one? hmm?”
satoru hums, leaning in and kissing you passionately, eating away at your moans and your helpless whimpers. your nails have indented & scratched his back just right. the dull ache of it only makes him rut against you harder.
his fingers trail down again, pressing against the sweet bundle of nerves and rubbing in circles. you need to cum with him, you have to cum with him.
you’re seeing stars soon, the ache builds again, ragged breaths and bated pants echoing through the sanctuary of your bedroom. “yeah baby, i know- i know- you’re close, go on. show me what my princess can do. milk me like a good girl. don’t waste a drop.” he groans, leaning his head back as his adam’s apple bobs. his own thrusts are getting sloppier. he needs you carnally.
“gah- shit! fuck- fuck- mmgh~” it’s not too long before you tip off the edge again, gummy walls clamping and massaging the shaft of his cock and stopping only at the taste of his seed in your womb. stopping only at the familiar warmth soothing your bruised pussy.
satoru kisses your jaw, muttering soft, apologetic praises. “that’s it baby, you feel so good, you take me so well, couldn’t do it without you-” you’re latching onto his every word, half-lidded and drunk on pleasure, hugging him softly. now comes the wave of content exhaustion.
satoru keeps you cockwarming him and hugging him as he leans you against his chest, hands caressing through your hair and peppering soft, feather-like kisses all over your face. “i love you, sweet girl.” he muses, “love you too- toru,” you respond back, sighing happily at the warmth of his skin.
satoru takes you to the bathroom, and your eyes gleam at the way he’s prepared your bath. you could almost cry from the intense spoiling. your favorite space-galaxy lamp, your favorite scented candles, flower-petals, bubbles just right, jaccuzi working just fine. “see? told ya~ gonna help you unwind.” he croons. smiling when your eyes light up at the setup. he knows you loved it.
he’s quick to kiss your forehead and settle in with you, hands massaging your body and letting you nap on him. these are the times when satoru considers himself the most lucky. he has someone he loves with the entirety of his being — and they love him back? how fucking lucky!
and you do, you do love him back with all your heart & soul. you’re blessed to have someone like satoru gojo.
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rebelfell · 2 days
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cold dry stone
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gator tillman x fem!reader ┃ 18+, MDNI 3.5k
Revenge is a dish best served immediately and relentlessly.
cw: hate-fucking/revenge sex, references to infidelity. pretty much just blatant bullying of Gator ‘cos it’s actually sooo fun to be mean to him?? hand job, bareback piv sex, finishing inside (consensually, despite the dialogue)
What’s the opposite of a breeding kink?
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Gator’s party was too fucking loud.
You weren’t even inside yet and you already regretted coming here. A veritable horde of trucks and cars and more than a few cruisers littered the gravel drive and lawn, parked haphazardly over the dying grass with no rhyme or reason.
The walls of the house practically shook from the bass of the music playing inside and the drunken revelry could be heard clear across the fields.
The elder Tillman was away for the week—off taking care of some vague and surely nefarious business—and now his pissant son was throwing a kegger while daddy was away, carrying on with his dumbass friends like a fucking adolescent despite his ripe age of nearly 30.
You wouldn’t have shown up in a million years if not under such extenuating circumstances.
The back of your neck still burned at the memory of catching your so-called fiancée naked in bed with someone who was very much not you.
The ensuing fight left you in a kind of fugue state— speeding recklessly along deserted highways, knuckles throbbing as you gripped the steering wheel with one thing on your mind: revenge.
There was no shortage of people Drew hated in this shitty little town you had both grown up in. And any one of them would have sufficed for your purposes. But you didn’t just want to get back at him. You had to destroy him. You had to humiliate him the same way he had humiliated you.
And no one said “humiliation” quite like Gator.
You spotted him as soon as you walked in the door—all 5’11 of his stupid frame leaning against the stone mantle; sunglasses sitting on the back of his head; arms bulging in that same black polo he loved to wear under his Sherrif’s vest; the tips of his fingers brushing those two slits shaved into his hairline he thought made him look so tough; sucking down a hit from that lime green excuse for a phallic symbol he never put down.
He was talking to some girl. A pretty little thing in a pretty little dress looking up at him all demure and coy with fluttering lashes and puckered lips. She was the exact type he always went for—all pliant and willing, taken in by the veneer of status and power afforded to him both by his badge and being the son of the most powerful man in town.
Tough break, hon. Maybe some other time.
Thumb and middle finger pinched together, you pushed them between your lips and blew.
Your shrill whistle rang out over the din, silencing the party save Gator’s godawful choice of music. Every pair of eyes in the room was on you now, including the round hazel ones you were after.
Good. The more people Drew heard this story from, the better.
“Let’s go, Tillman,” you barked.
With two fingers motioning in a succinct come here, you beckoned him forward and jerked your head in the direction of the staircase, heading up them before he’d even started to follow.
You made your way down the narrow hall, cracking open doors as you went in search of Gator’s room, shocked you couldn’t smell your way to whatever dirty hamster cage he slept in. Behind you, the clomp of his boots alerted you to his presence as he reached the top of the stairs.
“You can’t just whistle at me like a dog. I’m a fuckin’ deputy—”
The family pictures in their gaudy frames rattled as you pushed him against the wall, your forearm planted in the center of his broad chest. Your face assaulted his, neck stretching to kiss him, tongue pushing past his teeth into his mouth—the sting of bourbon tempered by the sickly-sweet taste of his Mountain Dew mixer and…something with a synthetic smokey flavor.
Was he just eating jerky? Seriously?
His hand came up to try and grip the back of your neck, but you slapped it away with your free arm as your other drove a bit harder into his pecks.
He whined into your mouth, a choked-up simpering sound that made your heartbeat pulse between your legs. You pulled back to look at him, eyes flickering over his face, his lips spit-slick and swollen, his chin bobbing like a chicken’s head as he tried to chase your mouth, eyes round and pleading. Desperate and messy. Perfect.
He flinched as you ruffled his over-gelled hair, snatching his sunglasses off the back of his head and tossing them away, letting them clatter on the wooden floor as they fell.
“It’s the middle of the night, you idiot,” you sniped. “Now where’s your room?”
Jaw clenched, mouth forming into a hard, thin line as he bit back what he wished he could say, he made a loud sucking sound with his tongue behind his teeth. He pushed open the door to his room and you yanked him inside, closing it back by shoving him up against it on the other side.
It was a sty, no surprise there.
Dirty clothes scattered across the floor, mixing with (clean?) ones spilling out of hampers. Empty pop and beer cans dotted every available surface, alongside bottles of e-juice that sat in sticky rings made by their own drippings.
Half-dressed girls cut out of skin mags were pasted up on the walls along with some wrinkled posters of movies and bands you liked a little less just because he enjoyed them. He really was just a teenager frozen in time, wasn’t he?
You tsked at him as you looked around, your voice ripe with judgment. “Think you oughta move out of daddy’s house one of these days?”
Gator’s eyes hardened. “He likes having me close by when we’ve got business to attend to.”
He’s clearly irked, getting that look in his eyes like when you would mock and goad and tease during recess in grade school, and challenge him to races he never, ever won.
Most everyone knew there was no love lost between you and Gator. You had always been a little extra mean to him growing up, probably as a retaliation for all the knowing glances and nudges and so-called “jokes” people liked to make about you two getting married someday.
If he hadn’t turned into such an insufferable ass along the way, maybe you would have.
The old Gator, the soft and gentle boy who was so desperate for kindness and love and approval and encouragement he’d never gotten enough of, was nothing more than an ever-fading memory now—snuffed out by Roy’s influence and all his hyper-masculine, abusive, racist, cultish bullshit.
You might even miss him if you thought there was a chance that side of him still existed. But every day that possibility seemed less and less likely.
He jammed a hand into his cargo pants pocket to retrieve his vape, probably trying to recover some vestige of his dignity; or to pretend like he hadn’t been totally at your mercy since your whistle.
Mid-pull, you snatched the lime green machine out of his hand and stuffed it down the front of your dress so it rested between your cleavage.
He started to whinge in protest, only for you to cut him off with a harsh kiss, punctuated with a punishing bite to his bottom lip.
“You’ll get it back if you make me come,” you burred, fingers now making fast work of his belt.
Once it had been pulled through the loops and tossed to the side, your fingers curled around the waistband of his pants and you hauled him over to the bed. The ancient metal frame creaked in protest as he landed on it with a bounce, his legs spreading wide and eyes flashing with need.
He would never admit to this, but he loved how strong you were—the way your arms rippled when you threw him around, the latent strength built up by a lifetime of farm chores. If he had it in him to struggle or fight back a little, it might not be so easy for you. But he never did.
“Get undressed,” you said as you stepped out of your shoes, gaze as bored as your tone.
Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, he clumsily started stripping off his polo, toeing off his boots, and tugging down his pants and the briefs he wore underneath.
They pooled around his ankles and he leaned back on his elbows to kick them away, smugness now polluting his face. He smirked up at you, eyes flitting between yours and his substantial length that flopped across his thigh, as though waiting for your awed reaction.
He was an impressive specimen, as much as it pained you to admit. But you sure as shit weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of confirming it.
You tilted your head, studying it quietly.
“I remembered it being bigger.” You shrugged as Gator’s face fell. “I guess it’ll do.”
His cocky smirk disappeared, now looking all sour and deflated as he went to pull his white singlet over his head. You placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back to lay flat.
“Leave it,” you told him, tugging the hem back down. You much preferred the way his muscles bulged out of the too-small tank more than you liked the sight of his bare chest.
He licked his lips and nodded, jaw going slack as he watched you drop to your knees, the spread of his legs widening to accommodate you as you knelt on the floor between them. A shudder ran through him as your hand wrapped tight around his length and you let your tongue loll out of your mouth, the pool of saliva you’d collected there dribbling out all over his cock.
The tip of your tongue just barely grazed his slit that was already leaking and he moaned deeply at the feeling, knowing it was as close as he’d ever get to you sucking him off.
Your hand curled around him and began to move in a slow, even stroke. It was perfunctory. Totally emotionless. Gator couldn’t stay hard unless he got jerked off a little first—probably some kind of performance anxiety holdover from puberty.
Truth be told, you didn’t mind it so much.
You sort of liked watching him fall apart from nothing but your fist and spit. Making his brow scrunch and his mouth slacken, seeing him throw his head back and the muscles in his thick neck strain as he huffed and gasped out his labored breaths, cheeks puffing as he panted.
“Wh-where’s your ring?” he asked, his voice already weak and pitiful as he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view of the work your hand was doing.
“Bottom of the lake,” you said shortly, giving him a steady glare over your pumping fist.
“That why you’re here, then?” he grunted. “Cos you two had a fight?”
“Not a fight,” you corrected, hacking another glob of spit on his cock. “We’re done. Found him in bed with some floozy from the Family Fare.”
Gator scoffed. “S’that it?”
“Yes, that’s it,” you snapped back. “That not a good enough reason for you?”
“Just seems kinda harsh s’all. It’s not like you and I haven’t been—ah-ah-ahhh!”
Your stroking ceased abruptly, a mean glint in your eye as you closed both fists around him and started to twist—not unlike the burns you used to give his arm on the playground.
“That’s different,” you seethed through gritted teeth. “We didn’t get caught.”
Gator whimpered at the harshness of your touch, his abdomen flexing under thin white cotton as he squirmed. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he stammered. “You’re right, you’re right.”
“Damn fucking right I’m right,” you grumbled, releasing your hold on him.
With a couple of strained gasps, Gator struggled to regain his breath as you got to your feet and began to drag your panties down your legs.
He was hard as a rock now—no surprise there.
He pushed himself up to lay on the bed, his toes already curling over as you climbed on top of him. You straddled him at the waist, knees bracketing his hips as you lifted your dress.
His eyes strained in the dark for just a glimpse of you, watching hungrily as you bunched your skirt in one hand and made a few cursory swipes across your clit with your other.
“Suck,” you instructed as you brought your fingers to his lips, request redundant as he was already eagerly taking all three into his mouth.
He mewled around them, licking sloppily at the wetness there, the tang of your arousal covering his tongue. Bullying him always got you riled up in a way you never fully understood.
Fingers now thoroughly coated in a mix of your slick and his spit, you reached down to align him with your entrance. His cock twitched excitedly in your hand as you rubbed his head through your folds, and he made a sniveling sort of noise as you began to lower down onto him.
His hands came up and he reached for your chest only to be slapped away as you sank further, your body stretching to take him in until he was seated fully in your heat. The slow and deliberate grind of your hips had him squirming under you already, whimpering at the sensation as your walls squeezed around his shaft.
Letting your head tip back and your eyes flutter until they closed, you lost yourself in the rhythm you set rocking back and forth on his cock.
Tentatively he reached out again, this time aiming for your hips, and you surprised the both of you when you let his hands settle there to hold you.
He was nearly silent, emitting only a few soft grunts and quiet huffs of pleasure as you rode him at this punishingly slow pace. He could be such a fucking jackrabbit sometimes, it was like pulling teeth getting him to bend to your will and go at your preferred speed.
But he was behaving surprisingly well this time.
For a moment, it didn’t even feel like you were fucking someone you hated. It was as if Gator wasn’t the one under you at all. At least not the Gator you’d despised for most of your life, but a good Gator. A Gator who listened to you and cared about you and did whatever he could to—
“That’s right, you love that dick, don’t ya?”
The sound of his voice effectively shattered the illusion you’d built in your mind, and you felt your eyes narrow as they snapped open, reality rushing back in. Below you, Gator was totally unphased, lips still quirked and his brow raised as if expecting praise. Idiot.
“Feel’s good, eh?” he asked.
“It did,” you hissed at him. “Until you opened that stupid mouth.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged with a knowing smile as his fingers tightened briefly on your hips. “I think you like my stupid mouth sometimes.”
Well…he’s got you there.
And the thought, unfortunately, has a wave of arousal crashing through your body that Gator can now feel gushing around his cock.
You slid forward roughly in retaliation, rolling your whole body against his as you started to fuck him harder. The motion and shift change made Gator suddenly buck up from underneath you, sending a jolt through your core. You glanced down at his face, all scrunched up like he was in pain, biting down on his bottom lip to hold himself together, even though you knew it was taking everything he had not to blow now.
“Don’t you dare come in me, Gator,” you warned, the grind of your hips still speeding up. “You keep your dirty fucking seed to yourself, you hear me?”
His long fingers squeezed harder at your waist, digging into your flesh like he was trying to bruise you through the thin material of your dress.
He started pushing you down to meet his thrusts as he in turn fucked up into you. Sweat beaded on the ridge of his strong brow, his rosy lips parting in a gasping moan. He threw his head back, the muscles in his neck flexing under freckled skin.
If he wasn’t such a tool, he might be handsome.
The lewd sound of slapping flesh filled the room as you worked up to a bounce to meet his thrusts. You leaned forward to brace yourself on his chest, a low moan escaping as you gripped the material of his white tank in your fists. He smirked at you, that insufferable smugness returning when he heard the sound you tried to hide and failed.
“Don’t you fucking smirk at me,” you sneered. “You think I want your melon-headed spawn? Think this town actually needs more of your godforsaken DNA in it?”
With a mean sneer of his own to match yours, he planted his feet on the bed and gave himself the leverage he needed to slam upwards inside you. The unforgiving punch and drag of his cock along your walls made you keen and grasp more desperately at his shirt, threatening to rip it apart.
“Whas the matter, hon?” he asked, his smile all teeth. “S’not me making you feel so good, is it? Can’t be—cos I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing? Right?”
He punctuates each word with an especially deep thrust and you hate how close he’s got you now.
You push back against him, returning each thrust with a squeeze of your walls. Everything else falls away as he strokes that spot inside you hate him for reaching. Especially now, as you’re going to come and you know he can tell.
With a guttural groan and making the ugliest face he’s pulled yet, Gator’s spend spilled out of him. The warmth of it flooded your whole body—never more grateful for the IUD you made that special trip out of state to get placed. Your body was still radiating from your own orgasm, all that tension and rigidness in you loosening at last like spaghetti finally starting to cook.
“Fuck, Gate…”
A languid sigh tumbled past your lips and your body slumped forward, limp and exhausted. You were closer to him now, hands still on his chest to keep yourself up, not quite laying against him, but close enough so he could slide his large hands up and down your back in a soothing rub.
“Oh, c’mon now, tough stuff,” he teased from beneath you. “Don’ tell me yer goin’ soft on me?”
“Only one goin’ soft is you,” you snapped, arms trembling as you pushed yourself up so his dick could slip out and flop over, slick and spent.
His hand came up and caught your face as you started to move off him, stilling you as he cradled your jaw in his wide grasp and a calloused thumb brushed across your soft cheek. And even though you knew he couldn’t, it almost felt as though he could see the faint remnants of tears that spilled there—the ones you despised yourself for letting fall; the ones you’d scrubbed from your face until your skin was raw and dry; the ones that made you feel so weak.
You withdrew from him, swatting his hand away as you climbed off him and the bed, ignoring the way his head had started to lift to kiss you.
Silently, he watched you gather yourself to leave.
The straps of your dress hung loose around your shoulders and you made no attempt to straighten the crooked bust or to fix your smeared mascara.
You picked up your shoes, but you let them dangle at your side, planning to stop at the front door downstairs to put them on—smiling out at the party, letting everyone get a good, long look. A big you-sized middle finger to Drew.
“Wait a minute—” Gator said suddenly, his voice hoarse and strained.
You paused at the words and glanced back at him over your shoulder. He sat up further, the heaving in his chest having started to slow, his eyes shiny in the harsh blue light of his computer monitor.
He gulped, inhaling a shaky breath as you arched your brow at him.
“Vape?” he asked, his gaze flitting to your chest.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you sauntered back over towards the bed. You leaned forward on your fists, his lumpy mattress sinking under them as he scooted closer and you kissed him. Sweet and soft this time.
Far nicer than he deserved.
He breathed into it, sucking you down as desperately as he did those strawberry-kiwi flavored hits, his hand coming up to finally, finally palm the breast you’d refused to let him touch.
So distracted by the kiss, he didn’t notice you slipping the lime green device from the front of your dress. You pulled back from his face, grinning at him now all sly and catlike.
And flung it straight out his open window.
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skyward-floored · 2 days
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Glasses
(Incredibles au)
...
“They’re back!”
At Wind’s shout, Wild shot up and bolted outside to the car pulling into their driveway, slightly using his speed even though he wasn’t supposed to. Four didn’t even have time to tell him to wait before his older brother was hanging off Twilight’s arm and shaking him.
Four felt a flash of annoyance as Wind ran ahead of him as well, but he stuffed it down and ran out to join them, and arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Wind and Wild’s begging.
“Where is it Twi? I want to see your photo! Warriors said they always look bad, I want to see! Let me see it!” they hounded simultaneously, but Twilight only brushed Wild’s hand off his arm with a morose look.
“I didn’t get it.”
Wild stopped in his tracks, and Four and Wind looked at each other, then back at Twilight.
“You... you didn’t get it? Why? How?” Wild said incredulously. “It’s a learner’s permit! They’re like, impossible not to get!”
“How did that happen?” Four asked in confusion.
“Apparently I can’t see well enough to drive,” Twilight mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets. “They said I have to get glasses if I want one.”
“Glasses?!”
Twilight nodded glumly, and his brothers looked at him in disbelief.
“There’s no way you need glasses, your vision is great!” Four said with no small indignation on his brother’s behalf, and Twilight just sighed.
“Apparently it’s not good enough to pass the vision test for driving,” he said as Time also got out of the car. “I have to get them, or no learner’s permit.”
“But that’s not fair!” Wind cried, and Time put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s to keep the roads safe, Wind. You wouldn’t want someone who could barely see driving a car next to you, would you?” their father asked, and Wind relented a little.
“...okay, I guess not. But Twi can see fine! He’s never had trouble with looking at stuff!”
“I just barely didn’t pass,” Twilight grumbled. “I swear that lady had it out for me, I think she made the pictures blurrier on purpose.”
“Well we’ll see when we take you in for a proper eye appointment,” Time sighed, and Twilight nodded, still looking disappointed. Their father went inside, and Four watched as Twilight followed him, shoulders slumped and ears drooping.
“Poor Twi,” Wild said, shaking his head in disbelief. Four had to agree.
What a way to find out you needed glasses. And how could Twilight need glasses anyway? His vision was fine!
...then again, now that Four was thinking about it, sometimes Twilight did have some trouble seeing farther away stuff...
Well. It was still unfair.
“Well maybe he won’t actually need them,” Wind piped up. “He said the lady there didn’t like him, right? Maybe she was exaggerating, and when he goes to the eye doctor there won’t be anything wrong!”
“Maybe,” Four said doubtfully.
“Well... I’m gonna go see if Mom has cake ingredients,” Wild said as he began to walk back in the house. “Cake makes everything better.”
“Better make it carrot cake,” Wind said as he followed him. “It’ll help with Twi’s eyes.”
Four raised an eyebrow. “Wind, that’s not a real thing.”
“Well it might be, you never know!”
(...)
A week later, the three of them were once again waiting at the window when Twilight got out of the car, and Wild ran to greet him, Wind and Four trailing behind. This time though, Twilight didn’t even look at any of them, brushing past Wild and turning into a wolf the moment he was safely inside.
“Uh oh,” Four said, and they all looked at their father as he got out of the car.
Time wordlessly held up a glasses case.
“Oh no, poor Twi,” Wind moaned, and Wild looked back at the house. “The carrot cake didn’t work!”
“Wind you didn’t seriously think that was going to help, did you?” Four asked as he raised an eyebrow, and Wind shrugged.
“Well I was hoping for Twilight’s sake.”
“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Wild said, but his father snagged his shirt before he could run off, shaking his head.
“Not right now, Wild, he’s not in the best mood. You can talk to him later,” Time said. “Give him some space for now.”
Wild nodded, and Time released his shirt, Four hearing him let out a sigh. Then he walked into the house, probably to tell their mother about the glasses. Legend scooted past him as he walked in, and joined his brothers on the lawn, scratching at his hat.
“I’m guessing by the grumpy wolf in our living room that Twilight didn’t have a good time at the eye doctor?” he asked.
“He got glasses,” Wind reported solemnly, and Legend blinked.
“...That’s all? Sheesh, you’d think he was going blind or something the way he looked at me and ‘rule. Why’s he so upset? They’re just glasses.”
“Are you kidding? Do you remember back when that one guy in Twi’s class got glasses? Everybody teased him, you wouldn’t want to be called four-eyes all the time, would you?” Wild said, then looked at Four. “No offense.”
Four shrugged, unbothered by the phrase (it wasn’t like he had glasses), and Legend raised an eyebrow. “But I thought he just has them for driving, he won’t even need them at school.”
“Unless his eyesight gets worse,” Four pointed out, and Wind elbowed him. “Ow, just sayin’.”
Four rubbed his side as they all began to trail back inside, and Wild scratched his head thoughtfully. “What I don’t get is that I thought wolves had good eyesight,” he said, looking confused. “How does Twilight need glasses if that’s true?”
Four perked up. “Well, they have good all-around vision, but their distance vision isn’t as good as Hylians. They can see movement pretty far away, but not clear details, plus the colors are a bit more muted then what we see,” he rattled off, and his brothers all stared at him. Four coughed. “...I got a wolf book from the library the other week.”
“Well anyway, I bet he’ll get used to the glasses,” Legend shrugged as he kicked his shoes off and walked away. “I’m just not looking forward to him being all mopey in the meantime though.”
A few of them nodded in agreement, and Four peeked into the living room. Twilight was flopped on the floor with his head sitting on his paws, and when he noticed Four looking, he got up and plodded away, tail drooping.
His brothers all watched him pad away, then looked at each other.
“...You’d better make another cake, Wild.”
(...)
Nobody saw much of Twilight the rest of the day, though Four tried to search him out a few times. He obviously wasn’t in the mood to be consoled, and Four went to bed that night wondering if he could do anything to help him.
He couldn’t take away Twilight’s glasses, but there had to be something he could do.
But what?
When Four woke up the next morning he hadn’t had any brilliant ideas, but went he into the bathroom, he found Twilight staring at himself in the mirror, a pair of glasses on his face.
Four froze, then hesitantly walked forward, studying his brother. Twilight flicked an ear at the sound of his footsteps, but didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at himself.
“Morning Twi,” Four ventured, leaning on the counter.
“Mornin’,” Twilight replied distantly, still staring at his reflection.
Four studied him for a second in silence, a bit struck at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror. It was still Twilight, but the glasses changed his appearance a fair amount. Having the frames on his face made Twilight look a little odd already, but he also looked... older, somehow, like he was an adult or something.
...Four wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“You’re trying on your glasses, huh?” Four asked after a minute, and Twilight nodded.
“Yeah. The doctor said I should wear them around so I’m used to them before I try and get my learner’s again or anything.”
“Well they look fine to me,” Four said, and Twilight gave him a half-smile.
“Thanks Smithy,” he said as Wild walked in, their other brother pausing as he grabbed his toothbrush.
“Whoa, weird. They make you look older,” Wild said, tilting his head and staring. “Like... kinda like Dad? But with glasses.”
“Dad with glasses. Thanks Wild,” Twilight snorted, but he didn’t look too bothered. Maybe he’s feeling better about them?
“Well what did you want me to say? That you look like a nerd?” Wild asked, and Twilight gave him a flat look.
“No, actually. Thanks.”
“Well he does kinda look like a nerd,” Legend said as he wandered in, drawn by the sound of their conversation. “A nice nerd. The kind that knows how to do calculus but still cries at baby birds— ack!”
While Legend was speaking, Twilight had reached over and grabbed him.
Four ducked out of the way while Legend tried to escape, and Wild laughed as Twilight noogied his brother, somehow managing to make Legend’s bedhead even messier.
“Alright alright stoppit! I take it back, you don’t look like a nerd!” Legend squawked, and Twilight released him, dusting his hands off. Legend grumpily smoothed his hair down, then smirked a little. “...they do make you look like some old dusty professor though.”
Twilight grabbed at him again, but Legend ducked and turned invisible, laughter and rapid footsteps quickly retreating from the room. Twilight huffed, and as he looked back at Wild and Four, Wild quickly muffled his laughter.
“Ah whatever, go ahead and laugh,” Twilight said with an eye roll. “I know they make me look dorky.”
Four frowned at the hint of bitterness in his voice. Okay, so maybe he isn’t feeling better about them after all. “I don’t think they make you look dorky,” he defended, and Wild nodded, starting in on brushing his teeth.
“I fink they make youwook fmart,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “Wike a fwibrarian or somefwin.”
“Like a Librarian. Right. Just the look I want,” Twilight sighed, and he looked at himself in the mirror again.
Wild finished brushing and spat, and Four caught Twilight’s sleeve, making sure he was looking.
“Don’t listen to Legend, he’s just being dumb,” Four said. “And Wild. I think the glasses look nice, they don’t make you look bad.”
“Hey, I never said they looked bad,” Wild defended, and Twilight snorted.
“You kinda implied it.”
“Okay well maybe I did, but I wasn’t trying to.” Twilight still looked unimpressed. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you; if anyone at school gives you trouble, I’ll beat them up,” Wild said with a grin as he pounded his fist into his palm.
“No, nope, no fights at school,” Twilight said, but there was a faint smile on his face. “I appreciate the thought, though. Thanks Wild. And you too, Four.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Wild said with some finger guns, though the effect was a bit ruined by the toothpaste on his chin. Then he zipped off, and Twilight and Four were left alone again.
Twilight glanced at the mirror and his smile fell a bit, and Four frowned. “Hey Twi?”
“Yeah?” his older brother asked, and Four nudged him.
“I think you look nice. For real. The glasses make you look... mature. Smart,” Four said. “And I’d split now and tell you with four people except Red would probably cry and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying.”
Twilight chuckled, and gave his hair a bit of a ruffle. “No worries. Thanks Four.”
Four smiled. “You’re welcome.”
The two of them finished in the bathroom then, Four still keeping an eye on Twilight. He still didn’t seem too happy about the glasses, giving his reflection an uneasy look as they left the bathroom, but at least he seemed more cheery overall as they went downstairs. That was a win in Four’s book.
And if anyone at school did give Twilight any flack about the glasses... well.
Maybe Wild’s idea wasn’t such a bad one.
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avtrxxx · 2 days
Text
Brother's best friend
Neteyam (22) x female omatikaya reader (19)
Part 1:
Warnings: p in v, fingering
🔞Minors do not interact!🔞
Since yesterday, your mind would always drift to Neteyam. How your legs touched and how he called you pretty. You still couldn't get over the fact that he called you beautiful.
Right now, as you were walking through the forest, you spotted a pink flower nearby. You could say you loved flowers. You had a specific spot in your room filled with flowers that you couldn't decorate your room with. You were a sucker for flowers' aroma like you were for Neteyam.
A twig snapped behind you and you turned around on your heels, eyes scanning the perimeter. You saw nothing and this made you even more confused. But then, a deep chuckle was heard from up in the trees.
Neteyam climbed down, landing a few feet away from you. He still had that smile on his face.
"Neteyam! You scared the hell out of me!" you shouted, playfully punching him in the chest.
But Neteyam was busy admiring you that he didn't feel the punch on his chest and even if he wasn't focused on you, your strength was nothing compared to his.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes lingering on your small frame.
"Nothing. Just...looking for flowers." you gave a nervous chuckle as you struggled to look him up in the eyes.
"Have you found anything?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Not yet..." you mumbled, looking around.
"Well, I did. She's right in front of me." you could feel your cheeks burn as your breath got heavy. This man had an effect on you and he knew that.
"Haha... Stop with the jokes, Teyam. I'm really looking for flo-" but you were cut off by his large hand wrapped around your neck, the other one making its way around your waist. Your breath hitched and you couldn't deny the feeling of your wetness expanding.
"I'm not joking." he said, his piercing eyes making your knees threaten to buckle under you. The hand that once was wrapped around your neck was brought right to your face, cupping it as he ran his thumb over your cheekbone. "I want you. Is it that much to ask for?"
"Neteyam, w-we can't-" your eyes wandered anywhere but him, his intimidating gaze making you feel vulnerable.
"Who said that? Who said I can't claim the woman I want, hm?" he growled, pulling you closer till your chests were touching.
"Well, no one did..." you smiled up at him, leaning your head into his hand. Neteyam smiled back at you and in one swift motion, your lips met.
Neteyam moved his lips passionately against yours as he slowly parted them, making way for his tongue. When his tongue touched yours, you let out a moan. The taste of his tongue on yours was something you always dreamed of.
He broke the kiss, and went down with them, kissing your neck. He left a trace of wet kisses all over your neck. He stopped and took your skin between his teeth, lightly biting down.
He reached your breasts and took one of your nipples into his mouth while he twirled the other one with his thumb. He pushed you to a nearby tree and lifted you, locking your thighs around his waist.
He untied your loincloth, letting it fall to the ground. With one hand busy rubbing your clit, he plunged two fingers inside.
"Neteyam!" you moaned loudly at the stretch, and threw your head back in the pleasure. Hearing you, he picked up the pace of his fingers, lazily drawing patterns on your clit.
"You like it? Tell me you like it." he growled, pressing harder on your clit.
"I love it! Don't stop!" he pumped his fingers faster, driving you closer to the edge.
"I'm cumming!" you screamed, walls clenching around his fingers.
"Cum for me, my love." Neteyam hissed, speeding up. You moaned and painted his fingers white. He pulled them out and stuck them in his mouth, licking them clean.
You tried unlocking your legs from around his waist but he just kept them there. You were torn out, exhausted but he wouldn't simply let you go.
"I said I want to claim you. You're not going anywhere." Neteyam gripped your jaw, pulling you to his face. He pecked your lips before he thrusted into you, filling you in one go. You never felt this full.
"Fuck! You feel soo good, baby!" he moved his hips back, slamming right back into you with force. You felt the air getting kicked out of your lungs as you tried grabbing something to hold onto.
"Yeah, just like that. Make me proud, scream my name." he moaned in your ear, biting down gently on it.
"Neteyam... Oh God! Don't stop! Feels so good!" you wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
"I'm gonna cum!" Neteyam shot his load deep inside you, and you could feel thick ropes of cum painting your insides. You moaned when he filled you up. You felt so full, so stuffed.
Neteyam kept thrusting, riding his own high. After a few more strokes, he pulled out watching your cunt being connected to the head of his cock by a thick line of your mixed fluids.
You looked down too, in awe. You completely forgot about the pain. Hell, it felt too good to even care about the pain anymore.
"Now you don't have to search for a mate anymore. You have me." his words brought a smile to your lips and you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at his words. He was yours, and you were his.
Neteyam unwrapped your legs from around his abdomen, slowly setting you back down on the floor. He helped you put on your loincloth.
As you were busy with tying some strands, Neteyam brushed your hair out of your face. He kissed your forehead softly before he whispered in your ear, "I knew you had a crush on me."
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astromaxi · 19 hours
Note
Hi!! I saw your post about being open to req's and was wondering if you could do a yandere jjk x reader one!
Snow leopard hybrid gojo would not leave my mind and i've been rotating a scenario in my head about reader smelling a bit too much of other men. But they aren't dating and gojo's is starting to go insane about it and so confronts reader bout it.
i mean you could do it without satoru being a hybrid, i don't really mind. i'm just craving for a yan gojo rn
I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE
HOLY SHIT- SCHOOL SUCKS
BUT I'M ALMOST DONE YAY
Warnings: slightly possessive Gojo, crappy writing, maybe full on possessive Gojo, Gojo having a scent kink thing, so mdi (?) 18+ (?), Gojo really loving your smell and but also calling you smelly (I’m scening a slight theme with my writing…)
As always lmk if I miss anything and this isn’t proof read so grammar mistakes 🫶
———-
Fem reader!
‘Jesus Christ I want to quit my job’ was all that was running through my head as I walked up the sets to my home, my feet crying out for relaxation after the horrible treatment of a 9-hour shift. All I want to do right now is to curl up in my bed and cry.
I open my front door, and at the same time, my phone starts to ring off. Huffing I close the door and set down my bag, I awkwardly shuffle through my pockets to see ‘Gojo’ lighting up my screen. An exaggerated sign escapes my lips as I answer the call. “Hello?” My horse voice spoke out, “I’m coming over! I see you off of work” a very happy Gojo responded to me, I looked down at my disgusting work clothes and the overall quality of how I felt, “Gojo- look, I don’t feel like hanging-“ “Great! I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” Was all I heard before the abrupt sound of the call being hanged up. I roughly made my way to my bathroom, if Gojo is coming over might as well look decent.
The thing with Gojo is, that he has been becoming increasingly clingy to me. Especially knowing days when I have work it’s almost as if there’s some sort of thing growing inside himself. I tend to brush him off whenever he buries his head into the crook of my neck, his long lengthy arms curled tightly around my stomach, or when he invites himself to stay the night but insists that I wear his clothes. I brush it off as Gojo being himself as he is usually very overly touching with everyone in his life- but sometimes- sometimes, it feels a little off.
I sighed as I heard my front door opening and closing I wrapped a large towel around my body. I run my fingers through my wet hair as I cringe at it being tangled up. I slip on an old hoodie and a pair of shorts, using the towel to dry my hair I set out of the bathroom and I’m immediately pushed against the wall nearby. My vision gets clouded by a mop of white hair and twitching light grey ears, as Gojo buries his head into the crook of my neck.
“Mm-Gojo!” I yelp in surprise as I place my hands on his solid chest trying to move him off of me
Keyword: trying
Gojo slips his hands down my arms, creating goosebumps in his wake as he grabs my hands with his own and places them around his midsection. His own hands find home on my hips as I feel an aggressive sign flow out of him. “M’ not Gojo, it’s ’Toru to you” his voice is horsed, and Gojo buries his head more into my neck- if that’s even physically possible. “You smell like other guys.” Gojo bluntly says,
I raise my eyebrows at him, my hands are mindlessly playing with his Snow White hair. “What do you mean ‘Toru?” I ask, the man-child before me lets out a groan. He raises his head from my neck and stares at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My heartbeat picks up as I feel my face heat up. Wordless Gojo tilts his head to the side, his eyes turn to something more obsessive. His pale hands travel up my body to cup my face, the air in my lungs gets stuck in there.
“You smell. Every day, every single day you always smell and it’s driving me insane.” He leans into me, our lips inches apart as his eyes dart down to my lips. “You should only smell like me, only be with me. I can give you so much baby.” His right-hand caresses the side of my face. I shake my head
“ ‘Toru you..” I let out a shaky sigh “You don’t want-“ “I know exactly what I want baby.” Gojo cuts me off, his breath growing more aggressive.
His lips move to the shell of my ear. “I want, no- need you baby. I need it so badly you don’t even know the depth of it” he whispers in my ear as he goes back to face me. “You need me to, I’ll prove it to you.” I nodded my head, allured to the words Gojo was feeding me, our lips connected as he immediately pressed the kiss. His arms cage me against this wall. My knees feel like they are going to give out.
“I’m going to show you just how much I need you baby.”
—————
A/n: this isn’t really that yandere, kinda forgot about that while writing this LMAO
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hyukalyptus · 17 hours
Text
thinking about kai with an older!femme!fwb.
cw. older!femme!chubby!reader x inexperienced!kai, sex (protection not mentioned), clit play, nipple play, cock drunk, "mommy," friends with benefits with a hint of sugar mommy vibes, reader drives a car, reader twirls hair and blushes, "good boy," "i love you," kissing.
fucking you in missionary with his thumb on ur clit, tits bouncing. he feels so so so good inside you, you can hardly control urself, melting underneath him, drunk on his cock, eyes rolled back.
am i making you feel good mommy? hm? does my cock feel good?
nodding is all you can do, but it gets the point across. he chuckles under his breath, licking his thumb before moving to ur nipple, shivers rolling down ur spine at how delicious he feels.
fuck, mommy, you looked so sexy tonight. love it when you take me out to show everyone im yours.
this fwb situation has been getting a little grey. some may see you as more of a sugar mommy than a friend, but y'all preferred the other label. the benefits being sex ...and you took him out on dates every once in a while. friend dates you'd call them. but they were a bit extravagant to be just friend dates.
regardless, you'd never tie urself down to a monogamous relationship. ur too sexy, too busy for a boyfriend. someone like you would never fall in love...let alone fall for a younger guy that was so lost before you started fucking.
so why was he making you twirl ur hair when he'd hold the door open for you? why were you so giddy when he walked outside his apartment door when you picked him up? why do you feel like crying right now? it's just that the dick is so good, you tell yourself.
kiss me. you didn't kiss much, apart from foreplay. too romantic. but he loved it. he loved feeling your lips against his, so he was happy to oblige.
the knot in your stomach tightens more and more by the second. you gasp, breaking the kiss and he knows. knows how fucking close you are. that was one thing he'd gotten really good at. knowing just when ur about to come.
are you gonna come for me, mommy? have i been a good boy? making you feel so good?
fuck..yes, yes, kai, you've been such a good boy, you whisper. his thumb finds ur clit again and fuck youre in heaven. orgasm washing over you like a waterfall, your body trembles, fingers grip the bedsheets, back arching.
fuck, kai..ohmygod, fuck, head still thrown back and i love you, kai, fuck, i love you. god fucking dammit i love you.
coming down from your high, everything comes to a slow stop and you finally open ur eyes to see his bright ones staring back at you with a smile- you love me?
shit. did u say that out loud? you definitely didn't mean to. you didn't even mean to think it, let alone speak it, and while you're coming? that's the worst possible time.
huh?
you just said you love me.
fuck, do you love him. love him with everything in you. at least you think it's love. you don't know. you've never been in love before.
yeah.. you avoid eye contact and before either of you can say anything, his lips crash into yours and fuck, i love you too.
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lovemewednesdays · 19 hours
Text
monster trucks and a monster crush.
(Based off of this post from the lovely @ebongawk. If I had the spoons, I'd probably flesh this out a bit more, but for right now, it's just a bullet fic.)
The movie comes out in July.
Eddie and Chrissy aren’t dating yet, but they might as well be, seeing how they spend most of their time together.
Chrissy has been trying to figure out Eddie on a real date all summer with no luck, and then she sees an ad for Maximum Overdrive in the paper.
It was perfect – Chrissy doesn’t like horror that much, but she can stomach it for an hour and a half, especially if she got to look at Emilio Estevez in the process, and Eddie loves Stephen King, she’s seen the beaten-up paperbacks on his floor.
They’re on the couch in the trailer. Something’s playing on the TV. Chrissy’s not paying attention.
“Do you wanna go to the movies tomorrow?” she blurts out. "There's a new Emilio Estevez movie.” Eddie makes a face and Chrissy shoves him lightly. “It’s directed by Stephen King.”
“Oh, yeah. Heard something about that. It’s based on one of his short stories. Yeah, that’s cool, let’s do it.”
Chrissy smiles and snuggles back into his side. She feels like she’s floating.
It isn’t until Edde’s driving her back home that it hits her like a brick wall – what if Eddie doesn’t know it’s a date? They go to the movies all the time. He probably thinks it’s no big deal! It’s not! It’s the biggest deal!
She works herself up, her nerves getting the best of her, and when they pull up to her house, she jumps out and twirls around.
“BythewayImeanttomorrowtobeadate." His eyes widen as comprehension dawns and Chrissy has to leave. “Okay, bye!”
She sprints inside her house, leaving a shell-shocked Eddie behind.
(Chrissy doesn’t sleep well that night.)
(Neither does Eddie.)
The next day, Chrissy is ready to renege on the whole thing. They can just be friends. It was a stupid idea anyway, why would Eddie Munson ever date her?
The van pulls up, and as she makes her way over, Eddie pops out of the driver’s side and rushes over to open the passenger side door.
Chrissy stops. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt under his leather jacket and his jeans don’t have any holes in them. It looks like he even tried to comb his hair.
He’s holding flowers.
Eddie's smile is nervous. “Wayne says it’s always a good idea to bring your girl flowers on a date.”
Chrissy smiles and takes the flowers.
The ride to the theater was normal. They talk about Corroded Coffin’s next gig, about the kids at Chrissy's summer job, and if Wayne would actually go on that fishing trip he’s been talking about for months. 
Once he parks, Eddie jumps out of the car and opens the passenger door. “Milady.” Chrissy takes his hand, gets out of the car, and they head toward the theater.
They’re almost to the door when Chrissy stops. Eddie stops, too.
They’re still holding hands.
“If, um…I know that – I know I didn’t let you respond yesterday, so I totally get it if you, um, don’t want it to be a date.”
She tries to pull her hand away, but Eddie tightens his grip.
“I was gathering the courage to do it myself, you know,” he says with a wry smile. “You beat me to the punch.” He kisses the back of her hand. “C’mon. You gotta go drool over Estevez.” Chrissy laughs and lets him lead her towards the theater.
The movie is terrible. Schlocky. Corny. Chrissy’s almost embarrassed for suggesting it, but Eddie’s arm is around her and he’s laughing.
(He loses it after the baseball coach dies by demonic soda cans. The kid getting run over by a steamroller right after didn’t help. Chrissy elbows him and Eddie flashes her a grin. “Kid’s fine, Cunningham. The grass’s soft.”)
The credits roll and Eddie and Chrissy walk out into the lobby; Chrissy hides her face. “I’m sorry!”
Eddie’s face twists in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”
“The movie was so bad! I don’t want our first date to be at a bad movie.”
Eddie takes her hands in his. “I had the time of my life watching that movie with you.” 
“Really?” 
“Oh, yeah! Watching a batshit-crazy movie about possessed eighteen-wheelers with my girl? Best day ever.”
Chrissy laughs and lifts up on her toes to kiss him. When she pulls back, Eddie grins widely and pulls her back in.
They get chased out of the theater by a miserable college kid in a neon orange vest grumbling about teenage hormones.
(When they make it out to the parking lot, Eddie stops her before she gets in. He lets go of her hand and splays himself against the hood of the van. “Now, Sheila. I know I just said that Chrissy was my girl, but I love you, too, and if you ever get possessed by an alien comet, please, please don’t kill us.”
Chrissy laughs and gets in the passenger seat as Eddie yells dramatically to be careful.
Eddie makes the movie his entire personality for weeks – whenever he sees an eighteen-wheeler, he screams and pulls Chrissy behind him. Sheila breaks down at the entrance to Loch Nora one night and he does his best Wanda June impression: “You can’t do this! WE MADE YOU!”
He takes the younger boys to see it and they join in on the theatrics. Steve and Nancy are ready to pull their hair out, but Chrissy loves it.
When the movie comes out on VHS, Eddie buys it immediately. They watch it every year on their anniversary.)
All in all, not a bad first date.
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HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!
#cats#ghhbbb this is the first time I've genuinely considered tumblr blazing a post lol but no.. i shant.. I feel too weird putting financial#information into tumblr or whatever unless I made like a seperate bank account or something not associated with anyhting else lol#but I gave it serious contemplation which is really sayng something (the evil magical spell that all cats cast over u by their perfection)#ANYWAY.................... old man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#it's technically like march 8th but I did his party a little early. I have other pictures to post later maybe too..hrmm#The '1' candle is actually a '4' candle with the side part cut off because they didn't have any 1s#I went all out (like under $15 still lol) and got new birthday decorations for him instead of using the same old#ones from the past like 5 birthdays that I've done for the cats lol..#His theme was rainbows mostly in as light of colors as I could find#The legal age to drive a car in the US is 16 so.... honk honk beep beep.. I shall go out and buy him the most expensive car on the market#as soon as March 8th comes. then he can run little errands (probably mostly getting kibbles or chicken somewhere)#stealing the rotisserie chickens from walmart or something lol#AND they would let him have them. He would drive up and walk inside and they'd call the manager to come over#and they would be so moved by his presence and his big goofy stare that they would just be like..... okey.. have all the chicken in the#entire store. Actually. have the store. it's yours now. And This would continue all the way up the chain until he was handed#the entire walmart company. And every other company. a boy who owns everything. probably wouldnt use it for evil. he'd just abolish#everything and then focus on eating chickens.. ........ chibken son...
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lunaekalenda · 23 days
Text
biker!suguru who looks pretty intimidating with that big helmet that covers his face, but will take advantage of red lights to make the children in the cars around him laugh. moving his hands, changing his seat, lying on the motorcycle; anything works when he sees them smiling and waving at him when the traffic starts again.
biker!suguru who's full of tattoos under all the riding clothes. they're tiny, like fine stickers on his body, but you could spend whole afternoons finding each one of them, and he'll gladly tell you what do they mean.
biker!suguru who refuses to let you get off the bike by yourself. if he opens the car door for you and offers a hand so you can comfortably get off, why wouldn't he do the same on the bike?
biker!suguru who accompanies you to buy clothes and equipment for riding. he has been on it for years and he knows the best brands, the best options and the more secure ones. he'll make sure to pay for them, even if they're expensive, as long as you're comfortable and protected from any injury.
biker!suguru who takes you everywhere. you have a meeting? he takes the bike. you're craving your favorite ice cream at night? you'll go quicker in the bike. why would you go walking if he loves to take you anywhere?
biker!suguru who's not bothered by the rain at all. he would ride anyway, with drops falling on his visor and sticking to his exposed neck. he would even unzip his riding jacket and let the rain wet his t-shirt. it makes him feel alive. (and later, sick.)
biker!suguru who doesn't like you sitting by yourself so makes it impossible for you, moving the bike and going back and forth, laughing and receiving your little slaps on his shoulders until you let him sit you (or he lets you sit)
biker!suguru who holds your hand when driving straight, taking it between his gloved fingers, cutely caressing and taking it to his helmet as if he was kissing it.
biker!suguru who helps you to put and take off the helmet the first times you ride, being his smile the last thing you see when closing your eyes to put it on and being his lips pressed on yours the first thing you feel when taking it off.
biker!suguru who doesn't doubt to show you how to ride when you ask him. he takes you on a couple lessons outside, quietly and calmly ordering you what to do. he trusts you enough to backpack you (but you don't trust your freshly aquired habilities with such a man behind)
biker!suguru who never arrives from a ride late. he'll always find you awake, and he doesn't want to let you go to sleep alone. he'll always make it safely on time.
biker!suguru who loves to mess with you, while riding and once done. he'll take your visor up, he'll put your hands inside his t-shirt, he'll give little taps on top of your helmet.
biker!suguru who craves shoulder massages on sunday afternoons after all the week riding and working. you'll gladly give him some, and he'll make sure to payback with cuddles (or rides.)
biker!suguru who lets all the kids try his helmet while he waits for you to exit work/uni. you'll just find the most random situations while getting closer to your boyfriend, such as a kid having trouble with the helmet's weight or another one unable to see due to puting it wrong.
biker!suguru who looks so good unzipping his riding suit and taking off the helmet you can only think of seein that exact image every evening of your life
part one here ✨
4K notes · View notes
rowarn · 3 months
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first i would like to formally apologize.......also first time trying hybrid au so i humbly apologize if it's not as good as other people's!!! first time for everything and all that!!!
hybrid!au, angst, hurt/comfort but also hurt/no comfort, VERY mean!simon, cat hybrid!reader, dog hybrid!soap, owner!simon
part 2 !!
Simon who has retired from the military and decides to get himself a hybrid companion. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it – he’s grown lonely. He doesn’t have any family and all the socializing he did was in the military and he doesn’t have that anymore. So he decides to look into finding something to fill that gap in his life. 
Enters Soap – a young hybrid who once upon a time worked for the military just like Simon. The pup got injured in action and was forced to retire. 
Simon figures the two of them will fit together quite well. 
And he’s right! The two of them get along swimmingly. And it turns out Soap is very good for Simon. The endless energy the hybrid had (despite his injury) forces Simon to actually leave the house multiple times a day instead of hiding inside until he drives himself stir crazy. 
Now, he has to take Soap out for walks, runs, and even takes the hybrid to the park so he can run around with other hybrids and play catch with Simon. Soap LOVES it when Simon throws the ball as far and fast as he can so Soap has to spend several minutes hunting the little thing down. 
Simon actually finds himself feeling…happy. For the first time in a long time. 
Soap carves out a space in Simon’s life and the Brit is more than happy to let him take up as much space as he needs. He adores Soap. He knows the two of them are going to be companions for a long, long time. 
But then on a routine nightly walk, Soap freezes at the entrance to an alleyway, ears perked and alert as he hears something Simon can’t. His tail stops wagging and his blue eyes work to pierce unblinkingly into the inky depths of the alley. 
And that’s how they come across you; a skittish cat hybrid with no home to call your own.
Soap is ecstatic. His tail starts wagging so hard that it actually hurts when it hits Simon in the leg. 
The pup begs Simon to bring you home. He wants a hybrid friend of his own! Something ugly and dark works it’s way into his chest when he hears that – was he not enough for Soap like Soap was for him? 
He tries to tug Soap away by hooking his fingers into the leather collar around his neck but the hybrid doesn’t move, simply staring with a grin at where you sit on the ground in the alley. 
Simon doesn’t like cats. He doesn’t want a cat. And just seeing you makes him frown. 
When he finds that he can’t get Soap to move, he starts bargaining. He swears that they’ll look into finding a nice dog hybrid for Soap!! Stll, it doesn’t work. The dog hybrid has got his heart set on you for some reason. 
And that’s how you find yourself living in his home. And he’s not happy about it. 
You glare at him any time he has the audacity to walk into any room you happen to be in in his OWN damn house. It pisses him off. 
He doesn’t like you. And he makes it abundantly clear any time he sees you with the way his lips curl up in disgust. He shoos you away like you’re a nuisance even when you’re just lounging in the warmth of a sunbeam through the window. 
Where Soap eats borderline gourmet, he usually just slops some random low-quality hybrid food down for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly resentful, he doesn’t even let you eat at the table with him and Soap. 
But Soap adores you. The pup gets so excited to see you whenever he gets home from a walk or a day at the park. He hunts you down immediately wherever you may be just so he can excitedly tell you all about what happened outside – the birds he saw, the hybrids he played with, what he ate. 
And you listen intently. You’re not one for many words, Simon notes, but he often finds you muttering barely audible things to the other hybrids. You’ve never spoken a word to the human. 
Simon doesn’t know why that upsets him too – it’s not like he wants you to talk to him. He just thinks it’s disrespectful of you to ignore the man giving you food and a roof over your head. He also thinks it’s fucking disrespectful of you to steal his hybrids heart the way you have. 
The longer you’re there in his house, the more Simon hates you. Annoyance morphs into despising you. He’d have thrown you out back onto the streets by now if he could get away with it but when Soap wasn’t by his side, he was by yours. 
It ticks him off when he walks into a room and finds you purring happily with Soap curled up around you, big burly arms holding you snuggly against his chest as he snoozes. 
Simon didn’t even bother naming you, Soap’s the one who picked something to call you. Simon usually just gruffly calls you ‘cat’ if he needs to speak to you – which he makes it a point not to do very much. 
You still don’t speak to Simon. Even when he ‘forgets’ to feed you, you don’t say a word. You don’t complain or seek him out for something to eat. You just choose to starve. 
He wonders if you hate him as much as he despises you. 
And you and Soap remain the best of friends. The pup is always yapping happily to you and you’re always listening. 
As time passes, you even start to follow Soap around. It no longer seems like one-sided adoration. 
You love Soap, he brightens your day and makes you happy. You want to be around him all the time. You never thought you'd like a dog but Soap was just so sweet and kind that it was impossible to dislike him -- even when he ruthlessly kissed your face all over and pinned you down so you couldn't escape just so he could give you all the affection he wanted. You never got mad, never showed your claws (in fact, you were extra cautious of your claws with him). You slept with him whenever he wasn't busy snuggling with Simon -- and you'd never dare interrupt the two of them while they were having quality time together!!!
And that also makes Simon furious. Because Soap is his. How dare you have the audacity to think Soap is yours? Simon has put so much love and effort into his relationship with Soap and you prance in with your stupid fluffy tail and little purrs and you’ve got the dog-hybrid wrapped around your finger in no time. 
God, he hates you. 
It seems like everything comes to a head on a rainy day. The rain always makes Soap hurt, his old injury and joints act up. It leaves him docile and sometimes a little cranky. 
He had been a little short with you all day and that hurt. You already dealt with your owner, the man who took you in, refusing to show you any kindness, and now the one companion you had would barely look at you. 
It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know how much pain Soap suffered from. You loved the rainy night, it was perfect weather to snuggle up to your favorite hybrid and snooze away. 
You found Soap, sprawled on his back on the couch, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t think anything of it. You crawled onto the couch, intending to snuggle in right beside him. 
But when you put the tiniest bit of your weight on him, his blue eyes popped open and a loud yelp erupted from his lips. You startled, hissing as your tail puffed up and fuzzy ears pinned back. 
Soap practically lept from the couch to get out from under your weight, hitting the floor with a loud thump that had him whimpering softly to himself, curling in on his side. 
Simon was storming into the living room not a half second later – finding his beloved pup curled up whimpering and shaking and you, ears pinned, tail puffed, and taking up the spot Soap once was. 
Simon didn’t care what had just happened – all he knew was what it looked like; like you had pushed the poor pup off. 
Because to him, that’s what cats were; vile, selfish, mean little shits. 
You were dragged to the door and tossed right out into the rain without a second thought. Before you could even get your wits about you, the door was slamming in your face and you were alone. You sat on the step for a long while, shivering from the cold rain soaking your thin clothes, just waiting for the door to open again. 
But before you knew it, the lights inside were turning off and you heard the front door’s deadbolt slide into place. And you were still outside, alone with nothing to your name but an old t-shirt that you had stolen from Soap. 
Simon hadn’t even bothered to get you clothes of your own. Or a collar like Soap’s – one with Simon’s name and number on the back. You had always wanted a collar like that but you knew Simon didn’t care about you enough to even consider you his own hybrid. 
You tried your best to stay out of his way and stay quiet and as small as possible so he wouldn’t grow angry or uncomfortable with you. You didn’t ask him for food when he forgot or get under his feet like Soap did. You tried your best to be good and hoped that someday the human would come around but as the days passed, you knew that it wouldn’t happen. You still did your best to not make trouble for him though. 
It seemed he was just waiting for an opportunity to get you out of his house. 
Your tummy growled, reminding you that you hadn’t been able to eat dinner yet. You stood from the front step and wandered down to the sidewalk, bare feet splashing in the puddles, taking a last glance at the now dark and still house you called home for many months. 
With your head hung low, you made your way back to familiar areas where you knew you could dig through trash to find at least something so you wouldn’t sleep hungry tonight. 
3K notes · View notes
tojikai · 9 months
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Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
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Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
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Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
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taglist: @forever-war @astral-hydromancy @witchbybirth @coeqi @starshinedowo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @lost-lonnie @haitanifxn @dearsunaa @mari-ho14 @clairdelunaax @anxious-chick @tigerchaeee @megufushi @yeosmie @tsukkisrightpinky @crowiechan @makimais @infinitemoonlight @iloveblogging2 @cloudsinthecosmos @uchiwife @bellaadonnas @lawlietily @lilxnvm @poopoobuttsy @yihona-san06 @luhvbot @sagekko @lugkuic @asbony @uhremmi @kurookinnie @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @lelemnh
a/n: just send an ask if u want to be removed &lt;;33
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cheonstapes · 7 months
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
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a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.
wc; 700+
pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin
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miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company. 
“babe, grab my headband for me please?” 
walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.
he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.
he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.
this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.
he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder. 
the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him. 
he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.
“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”
i mean shit, back to sleep we go! 
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-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL
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va1entinesg4l · 15 days
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one too many bites
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: After launching his new ice cream, Charles had another flavour that was made just for you.
warning: smut!! aphrodisiac, p in v, breeding kink
A few days ago, Charles had officially launched his new ice cream brand ‘Lec’ with five different flavours. Hosting a party as well for his guests. But obviously before they got to try his ice cream, you did. His girlfriend always came first and to your surprise, Vanillove was your favourite.
You were back home from work, feeling stressed out when you notice an ice cream tub sitting on the table. Red? Charles never launched this. You furrowed your eyebrows as you called out for him, “Charles?” Suddenly you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your waist as the sound of the french accent rings through your ear. “Good evening, mon ange.”
His chest pressed against your back as he kisses the back of your neck, making you giggle quietly.
“What is that?” You gesture to the ice cream on the table and he replied with a grin, “Just a gift for my beautiful girlfriend.” You knew Charles liked spoiling you with gifts, no matter what it was.
You held the tub of ice cream up as you say in confusion, “It’s red. You never launched this.”
“That’s because i didn’t. It’s a treat just for you and i to share, mon coeur.”
“Love Potion. Really?” A giggle escaped your looks as you read out the name he gave the ice cream and he just gave you a sly smile. If only you knew.
Both of you share bites of the ice cream together, the first bite was blissful, it tasted like raspberry with a hint of vanilla, bits of chocolate inside that you seemed to enjoy. Charles was glancing at you every now and then as if he was searching for a reaction.
And with each bite you took, you felt your mind fluttering. You placed the spoon down and so did Charles when he notices the aphrodisiac starting to kick in.
“You okay, y/n?” He knew damn well what he was doing, seeing how he started rubbing your thigh slowly to tease you.
You mumbled incoherently before you ask, “What’s in the ice cream?”
“Just raspberries and choc-“
“I know but..” You trail off, your gaze staring at Charles’s lips, you felt heat starting to grow inside of you. You didn’t know what was happening but all you thought about was how you wanted Charles to bend you over and fuck you. For him to cum inside of you. And before you knew it, you moved on top of Charles, your lips on his as you start to kiss him.
He grips your ass as he rolls his hips against yours and you could feel his cock beneath his jeans. Your fingers move to his hair, running through them as you bit down on his lip hard, making him groan.
It’s been months without sex since you were both so busy with work. Every time when Charles had persuaded you for sex, you would start pushing him away with excuses like ‘I have work to get done.’ or ‘I have a meeting.’ He needed to get you distracted, away from work.
Never would he ever thought the recipe would work. A recipe he found online that could increase your sex drive, arousing you in just 10 minutes. He definitely owed his team a lot.
He then lifted you up from the couch to the table, laying you down before moving down to kiss your breasts, sucking on one of your nipples.
“More, Charles.”
The single word sent blood running to his cock and without a second, he slides his jeans down, lining his cock to your pussy before sliding in.
You let out a shaky breath at the sensation before he starts thrusting his hips against yours. The table shaking with each thrust.
Your fingers dug into his biceps when you felt his cock deeper and deeper inside of you, his hand pressed down onto your stomach as he felt himself inside of you.
“Feel that, mon ange? Feel how deep i’m inside of you?”
You nod with a whimper. You wanted him to fill you up with his cum, you wanted to see it drip down your leg as you walk. “I wanna feel you cum inside of me, Charles. Knock me up with a child.”
Charles groans at your words, cumming inside of you. You let out a cry and you arched your back, his load filling you up. His body falls on top of yours as he catches his breath. He kisses your sweaty cheek, his cock still buried inside of you. With you in his arms, you fell asleep right away from the ice cream that Charles had made for you.
He chuckled softly as you pass out in his arms, seeing how soft and angelic you were while sleeping and he looks at the tub of ice cream which was left on the coffee table by the both of you, his smile widening.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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fallenneziah · 7 months
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Summary: You've been known to sleep around with the soldiers on base. It wasn't a secret. It also wasn't a secret that you fake most of your orgasms... Ghost takes that as a challenge.
CW: PiV, afab! Reader, uses she/her, multiple orgasms, rough sex, creampie, oral (m! receiving), overstimulation, fingering, and the reader is pretty much a barracks bunny. Not beta read... still doing smut though I can never tell if it gets better.
A/n: I really wanted to do kinktober but I was late... So um, have this??
It wasn't a secret that you were something of a barracks bunny. You caught the eye of recruits, and whoever of them made your insides tingle you were more than likely to spend a night with. You didn't care to try and keep it a secret. Although, your sexual experiences with most of the recruits and the younger men were… less than world-shaking.
They were good, their dick often leaving you mostly satisfied and feeling like you've had a five-inch stake driven into your cunt for ten to twenty minutes.
But you were also rumoured and soon confirmed to fake most of your orgasms. Sure, the hookups were fun, but you did end up faking most of your orgasms because it simply didn't do it for you.
Whether the recruit was rough or gentle, something was missing that pushed you over the edge.
But hey, you let the recruits get their load off you, so they weren't complaining either way.
Except for a certain someone.
Ghost was hardly the person you'd find sleeping around with anyone, men or women. The occasional quick fuck void of attachment and emotions back home in his small Manchester flat wasn't new though.
Once he fucked someone's brains out, they were out the door and not to set foot again. He didn't think anything of this. It's how it was, how it would continue to be.
But the constant talk of your happy little ass sleeping with every relatively attractive recruit in sight ticked something inside him.
Maybe he secretly wished he could get a hold of you, tame you down, get you down on your knees, and ensure you stayed.
Perhaps the idea of making you his bitch and getting you away from the other sources of pleasure you could find.
And then he learned about it. Little missy wandering around, getting fucked left and right, and every orgasm has to be driven out of her by herself. Something about that. About knowing you faked each orgasm with each soldier just to fuck yourself silly until it hit right.
These recruits were insufferable. None of them could drive you out of this little spiral you thought you had to control. Fuck a man, fake an orgasm and then sleep it off like nothing.
That's the challenge. That's what Ghost saw. A challenge and a reward. And he knew you'd been wanting to sleep with him for ages. He knew, and he wasn't as dimwitted as some people liked to think.
He practically bristled when he saw you walk into the canteen that afternoon, hips swinging, a small stiff in your step, but you looked mostly in one piece. Another recruit following behind you, looking on a mission to tell his squadmates of the night he had with you.
It made his hands tighten, and whiskey eyes lock on you as you walked past, seeming fine regardless of the night. His hand reached out, firmly gripping your hip so you couldn't go any further, capturing your attention.
"Lieutenant?" You asked, your eyes shifting from his large gloved hand up his forearm to meet his gaze.
"You best get yourself in check, soldier," he warned in a low tone, his hand squeezing your hip, nudging you back, his voice growing quieter.
"My barracks. Midnight."
Your cheeks went a little pink. You had the hots for the lieutenant for a lifetime. Part of you felt he would give you something you desperately needed, yet he's never spared you more than a glance.
You smirk softly. "You got it."
He doesn't respond at all. His hand releases you, and he lets you on your way.
You made it to your table, sitting among a small group you'd accumulated over your few years on base. The thought of getting in a bed with your lieutenant was now fresh on your mind, already having your stomach twisting.
However… You'd yet to meet someone truly who could make you feel how you wanted to. Roughed up, played with, fucked until your brain was smoother than a stone, and your name was a challenge to recall.
Was it that hard to ask?? You couldn't help feeling you might be sourly disappointed.
But you'd wait. Also making sure things in your room are charged just in case the night turned as you hoped it wouldn't.
The day drew on, and you continued through your tasks, finishing your work just in time to catch a shower and spend some alone time in your room as you pleased before your wristwatch beeped.
It was about time to see a certain lieutenant.
Ghost was waiting for you. How you figured he wouldn't was a wonder, but you didn't expect him to be standing there. Right there.
You slipped into the room, closing the door behind you. The lights were off, and his silhouette blocked the little light coming through the closed blinds. Your fingers search for the light switch, but his hand stops you.
Gloves still on, he pulls your wrist away, the other hand finding the lock on the door behind you and flicking it closed.
You already felt your heart rate picking up in excitement as he maneuvered through the darkness of his room, keeping you against the wall and at his whim.
"I didn't think it would start like this." You say, your back arching off the wall a tad before relaxing against when his figure pressed closer.
"Wrong of you to think you'd get a say."
His rumbled voice makes you shiver softly.
"I'm not complaining."
He seemed to scoff, pressing against you and making you suck in a sharp breath. His crotch pressing against your own, his large hands gripping your waist to hold you in place.
"Not yet."
He sounded like a predator about to sink his teeth into you, and it was such a turn-on.
His gloved hands grip your hips, lifting you from the floor and pulling your legs up around his waist. You can feel the thick outline of his cock, and it makes you gasp softly.
He takes you to the bed, dumping you onto the sheets. His hands find your clothes, pulling them from you, stripping you down to your underwear. He wasn't wasting time, your eyes adjusting and letting you see more of his figure clearly as he moved your limbs how he wanted to.
He was commanding, your body felt like putty in his hands, and you weren't sure you wanted to fight it.
Your cunt throbbed as he tugged you up the bed by your hips, crawling between your legs and forcing them apart.
His rough gloves feel foreign against your skin, tugging your underwear from your hips and tossing the thin fabric off the bed.
"Stay still." His voice rumbles through your body again. Your first thought of those scarred lips going for what they wanted. One hand kept your hips still, situating his body between your legs so you couldn't do much to fight him if you wanted to. You shiver, watching him pull his mask up over the bridge of his nose and pull his glove off between his teeth.
The second glove gets pulled off, and he lets it fall onto the bed next to you. The sound of his belt coming undone, the leather sliding against itself. His zipper came down, and he freed his cock.
You were already squirming, wanting to feel it. His large hand presses against your stomach, pushing you back down into the bed. "Easy. Keep still." His hand slides back down, your breathing stopping briefly when you felt his calloused thumb rub your clit. He was quiet, pressing up into your body, gently massaging it.
It makes you shiver, his index finger rubbing through your labia and down to your slit, tracing his fingers around your entrance. Feeling how tight you were despite your nasty habit of seeking out other men. He knows you could be so much tighter, knowing what a fucking slut you were.
Pressing his finger into your entrance, the warmth of your walls tightening around him, feeling him slip inside you. He doesn't give a warning before his second finger presses into you, both invading the warmth of your cunt. "That's it." His fingers pump into you, rubbing along your walls, rough callouses giving you a hint of edge with each stroke.
Your hands grip the sheets as he works his fingers inside you, a third slipping in as he feels the stretch of your walls. His palm rubs your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath and moan. It was a little too loud, causing Ghost to withdraw his fingers from you and grab your thigh.
He flips you over, his hand grabbing your face and shoving it into the bed. You startle a little, tensing up, but he knocks your knees apart again and forces his fingers back in, his other hand keeping your head firmly planted in the pillows. Your cunt clenches around his fingers. They work inside you quicker, pressing into your walls and driving inside you.
"Stay. I never allowed you to get loud, pretty thing." Ghost rumbles, feeling your cunt clench, dripping in excitement as his large fingers pick up pace inside your cunt.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were on edge. Your hands grip the sheets, hips starting to rock against his hand. Your breath comes out in small pants, muffled by the pillow. His large fingers felt so good inside you. Better than any recruit you've laid with.
You squirm, and as quickly as you do, his hand moves from your head to span your ass, cupping the perfectly round flesh and squeezing it between his fingers. His fingers pick up pace, driving deep into your cunt, fast and barely giving you time. Slick popping from his quick pace inside you. His fingers bullying your cunt, finding your g-spot and hitting relentlessly.
Your hips twitch, your back arching, and you can't help but moan loudly when you hit that first orgasm.
Ghost smirks, the scar along his lip pulling the skin up slightly. He pulls his fingers out, drawing them apart to see your slick and spend ripping between them. Your body shivering a little. "One." He counts, tasting your cum on his fingers.
He turns you onto your back, leaning over your body and pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. The taste of your cum and his saliva made your head spin, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as he kisses you.
You moan into his mouth as his hand slides between your legs, cupping your cunt and rubbing your clit. Your hips jump a little, his rough palm pressed against your lower pelvis, his fingers teasing along your slick cunt.
He nips your bottom lip, pushing you away before the kiss can properly end and keeps you held down in the sheets, his hand curling around your throat while the other continues to rub through your labia. Teasing your clit, rubbing it and pinching it. "Cumming for me already…" Ghost rumbled. "Just like I knew you would."
"I'm not done with you yet."
You moan, your head pressing back into the sheets as you start to rock your hips. Trying to feel more of his rough fingers, wanting his fingers back inside you.
"Beg." His tone is firm, and commanding. You look up at him through half-lidded eyes.
"Please," you moan, watching him grin and press his fingers against your hole.
"Please, what?"
You squirm, pressing your hips into his fingers. "Please fuck me with your fingers."
You could swear he was mocking you, slowly pushing his fingers back into your cunt.
"You can do better than that," Ghost taunts.
You whimper, trying to nudge your hips back, and you feel his fingers pull away. He forces your thigh further out again, teasing your clit with his thumb. You mumble under your breath, trying to lean away, his fingers stroking along your slit again.
"Please… I need them. I need this, please." You whine, once again trying not to squirm with your desperation growing in place of your excitement.
His fingers press back into your cunt, and you moan. Your hips jolt, rolling against his hand as he drives his fingers into your cunt, hitting deep inside you. "Fuck. Fuck, I- ah-"
He doesn't hold you down like before, allowing your hips to move, fucking his fingers, your slick making obscene sounds.
Your lips part, moaning over his hand, still firm on your throat, fingers pulling you apart. Driving into you, his eyes watching your face in the darkness with each desperate thrust up into his fingers. Looking like a pathetic whore. But that's how Ghost wanted you.
That's how he liked it. He would ruin you. He'd show those recruits how it was done, and cut you down a peg. He'd get you so overfucked you'd only be able to remember his name.
His fingers bullying your g-spot, knuckles coated in your slick, the walls of your cunt flexing around him. Once again, before long, he had you drawn out, moaning loudly.
He pulls his fingers out of you, the sticky string slick between his fingers as he pulls them apart. "Two," he counts, watching you pant, hips squirming and thighs quivering.
Ghost leans down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His fingers press to your lips, pushing them past. You groan, sucking on his fingers, tasting you on his hand. Sucking them and running your tongue along them until he pulled out, lightly slapping your face. His other hand released your throat.
He moved back on the bed, planting his feet back on the floor and pushing down his jeans over his thighs more, taking his large cock in his hand.
"Hands and knees, sweetheart."
You panted, knees still quivering, but you shifted onto your stomach, onto your hands and knees. Looking up at him, smirking. The smirk didn't bother Ghost, he already had you under him. He was already the first way through ruining you, so many would never really pleasure you again like he did.
Tapping his cock against your cheek, letting you feel the weight and the size against you.
"Open," he orders, watching you part your lips and lean forward to take the head between your lips. Your tongue runs across it, eyes shut.
He gripped your hair, yanking you forward and forcing you to take half his cock down your throat. Gagging on it tears stinging the corners of your eyes as he forced you further down, fucking your mouth.
"If you're gonna suck it, do it like you mean it." He spits, driving his cock into your throat, hearing your desperate noises, trying to draw in the air over his cock suffocating your throat. Feeling the smooth skin of his heavy cock against your tongue. The skin pulls back over his head along your tongue.
You could feel him, his cock dragging deep into your warm throat and then pulling out, giving you a much steadier rhythm for redemption.
He didn't give you a chance to take control, keeping his grip firm on your hair and driving himself into your throat.
You gag around him, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, eyes watering as he keeps you there, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your lips.
The heaviness of his cock on your tongue, salty pre-cum pooling at the back of your throat, tongue gliding over throbbing cockhead.
Ghost pulls his cock from your mouth, slapping your cheek with it and then forcing it back between your lips. He pulls your head back, pressing his cock back into your throat, his balls slapping your chin as he fucks your throat.
The sting in your eyes and the way your lungs burned made your head spin. You could feel your cunt dripping, wanting to feel him inside you.
He didn't let you keep it that steady.
Your head bobbed along his cock, spit coating his length and slicking up your cheeks, the sound of him fucking your mouth. It's what he wanted, making you choke and gag on his cock.
It let you know who was in control. Not you. You wouldn't have one ounce of control.
You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth. You moaned around him, looking up at him. His hand tightened in your hair, keeping your head still while he fucked your mouth, groaning under his breath.
He pulled out, holding you firmly in place so you couldn't chase his cock.
"On your back. Now."
You do as he says, turning onto your back and spreading your legs.
Ghost pushes his jeans down further, grabbing your legs and tugging them around his waist. His hand presses against your lower stomach, pushing you down into the bed while his other hand grips the base of his cock.
You whimper, trying to keep your eyes on him and watch him as he strokes his cock, keeping you in place. You attempt to squirm, but he keeps you still, ordering you to stay quiet. He drags his cock through your soaked cunt, pre-cum slathering across your clit and dripping down into the mess of your cunt.
"Lieutenant, please," you whimper, hips trying to press up, and he pushes you back down.
"Please what?" Ghost asks, smirking down at you. He was so in control here, you were the one under him. You were the one who was going to get fucked tonight.
"Please, I need you inside me."
"Mmm, you're such a slut… bet you'd take any cock, wouldn't you sweetheart?" His cock smacks against your clit, making your hips jump a little.
"Just yours."
He smirked. "That's what I like to hear."
He pushed forward, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside you. Your breath catches in your throat, back arching, trying to force more of him into you. He presses his palm into your lower stomach, pushing you back into the mattress. His cock gradually slides inside you, stretching you more, feeling the tightness of your cunt trying to handle a size it wasn't used to.
His hips press forward, feeding his cock into your cunt and stretching you out so nicely. You felt so good around him. Tight, warm, clenching at the size of his cock.
"That's it, such a good girl."
He starts a slow pace, driving his cock in and out of your cunt. Making you feel him, feel every inch of his cock. His hand moves from your stomach, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. It was too much, the sensations making you moan loudly.
"Shhh, quiet. You don't get to do that," Ghost orders.
You whimper, nodding your head and trying to lean your head back into the pillow. His cock plunges into you harder.
"Do I need to gag you again, sweetheart?"
He gripped your hair and pulled your head back harshly to look back at him. His hips snapped forward, thrusting his cock deep into your cunt.
"N-no. I won't." You say.
His grip loosens, but he continues to fuck you, hips snapping forward suddenly. Your thighs squeeze either side of his hips, heels digging into the skin of his ass as he lifts your hips with his cock.
"Mmm, I think it's more you don't want to." Ghost says.
You whimper, nodding your head. You wanted to be a good girl for him. You want to be quiet for him. But it was almost impossible as he fucked your brain out.
"You're so wet for me, so tight. I bet you cum just from thinking about me, don't you?"
You nod your head, moaning and biting your lip to try and stifle your noises.
His hands grip your waist, pulling you down into his cock and making you take it all.
Your pussy throbs around his cock, his thickness, utterly wrecking your cunt. His cock bullying your insides, finding your g-spot and making you come undone again, orgasming around his cock.
Ghost pulls his cock out, watching you squirm and moan loudly. "Three." He counts. He flips you back over, firmly pressing his hand into your hip.
He leans over you, shoving your face into the pillow and spanking your ass. "I thought I told you to be quiet."
He pushes his cock back inside you, gripping your hips and holding you still as he fucks you.
"One was for being a good girl."
You yelp as he slaps your ass again.
"Two was for being a slut."
You whimper, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
He keeps his hand pressed into your hips and keeps your ass upturned. His hips snap forward, driving his cock deep inside your cunt.
"And three will be for never listening to me. Because you're a bad girl. My bad girl."
His cock smacks against you when he pulls out, making you moan loudly. His hand moved from your hip, jerking your chin up and forcing you to look into his eyes.
"What are you?" He asks, cock slamming back into you.
"I'm a bad girl," you mewl out.
"That's right, baby," He says, leaning down and biting your neck. You cry out, moaning loudly. His hand grabbed your hair, tugging your head back and holding your neck.
"Mine." Ghost growls into your ear.
He slams his cock deep inside you, making you moan loudly. Your pussy clenched around him, gripping his cock tightly. He grunted, his hips thrusting forward and slamming his cock into you.
You cry out in pleasure, yet want it to stop.
He smirks widely. "Look at you…" He chuckles, leaning into your ear. "Like this for me… just like this… like a slut."
You moan loudly, your cunt throbbing around his cock. Your hands grip the sheets tightly, trying to keep yourself steady as he fucks you.
"Such a good girl…" He groans, his voice husky and breathless. "Such a good slut."
You shiver, nodding your head.
Ghost pushes your body down into the bed, lifting your ass further and continuing to fuck you. His fingers grip your ass tightly, his nails digging into your skin. "Do you like this? Getting fucked by your lieutenant?" He asks, his hand moving to your lower back, pushing you down further. "Fuck, who am I kidding… I know you do."
You whimper pitifully. You were so close again.
Ghost slaps your ass again, smirking. "I like it when you're a slut for me. What about you, baby?"
You whimper, nodding your head. "I like being your slut."
"I think you do, sweetheart…" He says.
You nod your head, moaning and whimpering in excitement. Ghost smirks, giving your ass a hard slap. "Beg for it…"
You whimpered. "Please- please fuck-" You say, moaning out.
"Keep begging…" He says, pulling out. He pulls your hips up, making you kneel up on the bed. He pushes your chest down, causing your ass to stick up in the air, exposed and ready for his cock. He spanks your ass, making you yelp.
"I bet you'd like to be fucked by me all day, wouldn't you? Be my little cock-sleeve." He says, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
He slaps your ass again, spanking you.
You whimper, trying to plead with him.
He grips your hips, slamming into you hard. His cock drives inside you, wrecking your cunt and filling you. His fingers dig into your hips and ass, holding you still as he fucks you.
He pulls you up, pushing his cock deep inside you and making you cry. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back into him.
"Oh god," you moan, your head leaning back into his shoulder.
"Fuck, you feel so good, baby…" Ghost groans.
"Please," you cry out. "N-no more…" The overstimulation to your pussy was too much.
His hips snap hard against you, his cock thrusting into you hard.
He pulls you back up, making you sit up on his lap. He leans you back against his chest, his hand moving to your hip. He registers your cry of pleasure as his cock thrusts into you again and again, his hips snapping forward.
He reaches around you, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. You moan loudly, leaning back against him.
Ghost leans down and nibbles at your neck.
You feel his cock swell inside you, pulsing and throbbing inside you. He could feel his undoing soon. He bites down on your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He thrusts his cock into you, hitting deep inside you and making your toes curl.
He grabs your hips, pulling them down and burying his cock deep inside you. He feels his cock throb and swell, filling your cunt with his seed.
He grunts loudly, holding you down against his cock as he rides out his orgasm. You moan, gripping his shoulders and pushing back against him.
"Mmm… that's it sweetheart… take all of it… cum for me…" Ghost moans.
His cock throbs inside you, spurting his load into your cunt. You moan loudly, feeling your release. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking as you cum around his cock. One last time before your body felt completely boneless, the dry orgasm pumping around the load of seed filling you deep, swelling in your cunt. Ghost pants, holding you up against him as he breathes heavily, your body limp in his arms. He kisses your shoulder softly, rubbing your belly.
"That was… mmm…" Ghost says, licking his lips and kissing your neck. "So good…"
You pant softly, leaning your head back and looking up at him. "I'm tired."
He chuckles lightly. "Go ahead and sleep… I'll clean you up."
"Okay." You smile a little. He helps you lie down on the bed, pulling his softening cock from your cunt. You feel the warm mess seep from you, coating your thighs and making you shiver.
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chaosandmarigolds · 25 days
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More Simon Riley and Pre-k teacher? Duh, cause I've been thinking about it for too long :0
Thinking about how the first day retirement!Simon would've gone when he was babysitting pre-k's little boy
Simon actually spent forty-two hours getting the house 'Ollie' proof, after you sent a two-paragraph long essay on how 'rambunctious' and 'high-energy' your three-year-old could be
Simon that never felt so happy as he opened the door to see you with Oliver on your hip, a small part of him wishing that you didn't have to drive to see him
Simon who never wanted the moment to end when you gave him a hug once you told Oliver to go run inside, smiling ear to ear as you handed him the backpack and lunch pail and a small remark on 'how he would make just a fine dad'
Simon which when Oliver wanted ice cream quickly whipped out his phone to text you to make sure the little guy didn't have any allergies
Simon who has your name saved with a <3 beside your name (something he will die with...and that Oliver noticed)
"dat's mommies name."
"right-o, laddie."
"Has heart, ooo, mommy likes hearts, 'ister Riley."
Simon with an ice cream in one hand and Oliver's hand in the other walks through the park, ensuring his silence on the matter
Simon who pushes Oliver onto the swing set at the playground about ten minutes from his house, not caring to look at how all of the mom's looked at him in awe because he had you, and you trusted him with Oliver- an honor he would never forake
Simon who carried Oliver park for two hours at the park since the little guy was just...so so tired, and began to think you got the kid all wrong, this little thing couldn't be so high energy that you had to warn him about it
Simon as he sat on the ground watched Oliver in the backyard, spending the next forty-nine minutes jumping on the tiny trampoline Johnny had given him as a prank gift- was carefully sweeping up the broken glass on the ground since Oliver sent on a little...run through the house as soon as they got home
Simon was exhausted when your car pulled into the driveway around six pm, your clothes a little worse for wear, and your hair frizzled out from the humidity
Oliver who took the opportunity to go through the zipped up and dusty bag that sat on the side of the sofa, finding Simon's old balaclava, being three chose to put it on
Simon who lets the hug linger as you thank him again for watching Oliver, only lets go when he hears your faint gasp and you move to walk in
Simon who swore his heart fell into his stomach when he saw the three-year-old with the old tattered thing- no! He hadn't washed it in- The kid was too-
'Oh my gosh! baby, where'da get that?'
'Ister Rileys."
'Really? well you look so so handsome but I think Mister Riley doesn't want you goin through his stuff'
Simon never though he would be affected by a little kids puppy dog eyes until he saw Oliver's, so he quickly shakes his head and tells the little dude that when he gets it washed its all his
Simon who would give so many more things than a war-run balaclava to see you and Oliver smile again
Simon who helped Oliver take a few of his things and was confused by the boys insistence on leaving his dinosaur with him
Simon was never more flattered when you explained that you always told Oliver that you would come back for his dinosaurs, so his want to leave them meant Oliver wanted to come back
Simon who really should've invited you in for dinner...Well, he would have all of summer to try again
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