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#I have another little thing I wanted to do
tonycries · 2 days
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So Lonely In My Mansion!
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Synopsis. When he’s sorry, what better way to show you than in bed?
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, apology séx, spítting, bodyworshíp, stuff with pantíes, bréeding, chokíng, cúmplay, Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, squírting, thígh séx, Gojo’s blindfold, overstím, oral (female receiving), pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.9k
A/N. Hope y’all are having a lovely day <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Too full!
Now, Toji knows he’ll more than make up for forgetting to join your lil’ shopping spree anyway. Ten times over, in fact, with the way he has you on all fours, tears rolling down your cheeks, pretty lil’ moans muffled into your pillow. 
Stuffing your poor cunt full over and over and-
“Is my pretty baby still mad?” he’s dragging his lips down your neck, throbbing cock ramming into you from behind. Bruising - like he was the one angry here. “Still fuckin’ pouty?”
Too needy, too delirious. It’s all you can do to grit out a determined, “Y-yes…” Your breathless gasps only make his smirk widen, hips stuttering as they get sloppier.
“Aww, what a shame.” Toji coos, angling his head just right to catch the heavenly sight of your poor overfilled pussy, all dripping and painted white with his cum. Eyes lighting up at how you gush around him with each thrust. “Guess I jus’ have to give you another one then, hm?”
“A-another?”
And God, Toji doesn’t even know if he can cum again - vision spotty now, jolts of electricity running down his spine each time he plunges into your snug pussy. 
But the way you’re immediately scrambling to hold onto the headboard - the sheets - just anything to hold onto some semblance of sanity has Toji wanting to more than ever. So painfully good as he desperately speeds up. He needs to - and fuck if he wasn’t going to try - because you’re only getting wetter at his words. 
“Fuck- squeezin’ me s’fucking tight.” he groans, pushing your skirt up higher, not having the patience to even think of taking that damn thing off. “Ya like this, huh? Like me f-filling you up until m’sorry?”
You can only give him such a delirious little nod, one that Toji doesn’t even know if you realize you’re giving. One that has him needing to show you how sorry he is by filling you up so much you can’t even think about how he forgot to accompany you on your lil’ shopping spree. To fuck you so hard into the mattress that you can’t remember anything else but him-
“Toji!” you keen, as he snakes down his strong arms push your legs further apart to show off. Burning at the stretch of how he was handling you like his favorite ragdoll. “What-”
“Said m- ngh- sorry.” he interrupts abruptly, voice so ragged that it takes you a second to even recognize it as your boyfriend. “See.”
And how could you not? 
You were awe-struck at that creamy ring around the base of his swollen cock. The way your gummy walls were sucking him up so easily, fucking back bruisingly into him. 
“See how sorry I am?” One hand tightens on your hips, the other snaking up to press down on your lower stomach. Hard. “See?” Both your jaws fall open at the way your ravaged pussy just coats Toji’s cock in such an obscene white mess. “Sorry, doll, shoulda been there for you.”
“Oh- fuck, s’too much.” And maybe you’re stubborn, maybe you just don’t know what’s good for you - because despite it all you manage to choke out, “N’ you don’t ah- mean it.”
Eyes raising to meet his and oh- oh, you weren’t making it out alive. 
“I do.” Toji drops his head into your neck, running his mouth. Rolling his thumb against your achingly clit as if to prove his point, “Next time m’gonna hah- watch you try on all those pretty outfits.” Hips rocking forward to slam into your sloppy pussy faster and faster. “Kiss you s-senseless in front of any fuckin’ scrubs that thought they had a ngh- chance.”
Movements only growing more erratic - more feral - with each broken little whine that’s fucked out of you. Like he knew he was so close to breaking you. Ruining you. 
Just the thought of it has Toji slamming his dick into you further, mentally cursing himself for forgetting your little invitation today. 
“And this lil’ thing?” he bunches up the flimsy fabric of your skirt. “And those-” nodding his head towards the stacks of shopping bags you barely got to look over before a sorry Toji had you shoved onto the bed. “I would’ve taken em’ all off as soon as I was in that changing stall.”
“I-I get it.” you finally break. Squealing at the hips hitting yours harder, his heavy balls squeezing so painfully. “I get it ngh- I get it-”
“Heh, nah- gotta show you how s-sorry I really am.”
You have an inkling of what he was implying - something that didn’t bode well for your abused cunt, if the way Toji’s cock was twitching wildly inside you was anything to go by. Not a moment wasted before Toji’s pushing your knees up all the way until they were at your tits. A sure sign that he was close. Looking like he was in such delicious agony as he taunted you into asking. 
“H-how?” 
“By fuckin’ you in all of that.” Head tilting at the bags upon bags from earlier today, “Then we’re goin’ shopping all over again.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Squirt if you’re sorry
“Keep your legs open f’me.”
But it was so hard when Nanami already had you spread so shamefully in front of that obscene mirror, placed oh-so conveniently right in front of the plush hotel bed. Sat so prettily on his lap, your back against his hard front, being split-apart on his throbbing cock. 
Any more and you think you might just die. 
“Is that so?” he whispers hotly in your ear and- “Think this is too much?”
Oh, shit, did you say that out loud?
But right now you were too delirious - to fucked-out - to even think of forming a coherent response to that, let alone be embarrassed about your little slip-up. Running solely on the aftershocks of your nth orgasm and the feeling of Nanami’s thumb drawing steady, slow little circles on your sensitive clit. 
“Get it together now, my love.” your husband seems to decide that your broken whine speak for themselves. Placing such a mockingly gentle kiss on your forehead, “M’still not even halfway through my apology.”
Ah, yes, the apology - the sole thing that got you into this entire mess. That one off-hand joke that Nanami should apologize for being 7 minutes late for your date - the one that had you shoved into the nearest suite, while he ‘apologizes’ to you over and over and-
“Now now, darling.” Nanami squishes your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look up at the mirror. “Look at me when I apologize.”
Several things happen at once - your eyes just barely make contact with Nanami’s darkened, dangerous ones in the mirror, and then it’s like something snapped. Because he’s thrusting up deeper into your snug cunt, drinking in all your pretty gasps as he starts up at another relentless, sloppy pace. 
Not even fucking easing you into it because you wanted an apology, right? And Nanami was sure going to give you one - fuck you like he’s sorry.
“M’sorry!” you keen, bucking wildly into Nanami’s touch. Cock so hot and heavy in-between your swollen folds - still not having came even once yet. “Was- was a joke- I can’t oh- my god.”
He knows - oh, how he knows. But it’s just so fun to tease you this way, and Nanami’s not sorry about that one bit. 
So he only lets out a huffed laugh. “Why are you sorry, my love?” Shifting his hips to massage all the right spots that’ll have you breathless and seeing stars. Hitting that one magical spot over and over. “I was the one that’s late.”
And God, you could just cry. You are - big, fat tears streaming down your face, dripping down Nanami’s wrist where he was holding your lolling head steady - but, of course, you’re too far gone to even realize at this point.
“Shhhh, lemme take care of you,” Nanami rocks his hips impossibly harder into yours, eyes on the mirror just devouring you almost as much as he was ruining you with his dick. Watching all your adorable gasps, the way you twitch, how your mouth drops into a soft oh! as he licks a slow stripe up your tears. Dangerous. “Lemme show you how sorry I am.”
And he does, cooing at how your eyes widen when he angles your head to show you the fucking sinful view down below. 
It was so hard to look too, how your snug cunt was trying to suck the soul out of him. Sloppy - making such a mess of the crisp sheets below. Quivering like you didn’t know whether you wanted to run away or to sink down for more more more-
You’re jolting in his bruising grasp, “Hngh- m’- fuck fuck fuck. Yes, oh my god- Ken-”
“Yeah? Ya like this?” He’s fucking you back rougher into him, merciless. Absolutely fucking merciless - and Nanami was only glad he thought to choose a sound-proof suite. “Think m’sorry yet?” Biting down on your neck, hard. “Because I’m sooo fucking sorry, my love.”
He lets out a cruel chuckle, one hand groping down your breasts - your hips - your thighs. Pulling them even further apart like he wanted to break you. 
Because Nanami wasn’t fucking sorry, why would he be? But oh how he loved teasing you. Acting all pissed off while he threw you around like his favorite toy, giving you a bit of your own medicine. How sexy you were when he did. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes against your ear, nibbling on your lobe. “M’sorry m’sorry m’sorry- Next time I’ll be hah- early-” Pooling the fresh wave of your salty tears on his tongue as he toys with your pretty clit. “N’ next time m’gonna make you squirt the first time-”
“Shit- Ken, m’cumming m’cumming-”
Almost like your body is listening to Nanami, you’re squirting all over his achingly hard cock. Absolutely drenching him in all your sweet sweet juices till he was glistening in the dim lighting. Some specks even landing on the mirror in front of you. 
And shit you’re out of control now, limbs trembling, such sinful moans leaving your swollen lips. Loud. Uncontrollable. Nanami’s next words barely audible over them-
“Your turn now.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Nice (and sorry)
“S-so mean-” It’s the only thing you can gasp out, “Y-you’re still not forgiven-” 
Oh, Geto knows. And he doesn’t really feel bad about using his apology to his advantage - not one bit, actually. You won’t hear a word of apology from his sly mouth, instead, he’s got you straddling his pretty lips, breathless and shaking above him. 
“Even when m’being nicer than usual?~” he hums into your clothed pussy, nose-deep and breathing in your essence so fucking sinfully. “Ya sure about that?”
Disgruntled, “What- ngh- what do you mean?” 
“Oh just that-” He licks a long, purposeful stripe up your drenched panties, adding to the mess of your juices beading through the fabric. And God it takes everything in Geto to not just rip off that flimsy underwear and tonguefuck you like he wanted to. “You’re being so loud. Sure you’re still mad?”
You hated it - how he was peeking up at you with those hooded eyes, pupils blown. Hated that predatory glint in them that sends shockwaves right down to your very core. Hated how he was right.
“Th-that doesn’t hah- mean anything.” you scoff, and the excuse sounds flimsy even to you. The way you were grinding down deeper onto his tongue certainly not helping your case either. 
And oh of course Geto pulls away at that, obscene little slicks of string snapping from his tongue and your wet core, your disappointed whine going straight to his rock-hard cock. What was it you were saying earlier? Something about him being too much of a tease? Well, you were about to eat your words before Geto Suguru offered you an apology. 
“Yeah,” he let his tongue dart out, letting your slick pool through your panties and onto his tongue. “N’ this doesn’t mean anything either, huh?”
No warning before he’s surging forward, tongue pushing through your panties to just barely tease your sloppy entrance.
You can only grip at Geto’s long, inky locks - trying your very best to not look like you’re absolutely on cloud nine as he alternates between toying with that first ring of resistance and sucking on your clit. All through your panties.
“Now now,” a hand on your hip stops you from all but ripping your panties off your hips - something that Geto would’ve already done by now, usually. “Keep ‘em on.”
It’s like he’s trying to drive you mad - wants to drive you mad. Torturing you slowly with that soft tongue and that smirk you can feel against your dripping cunt. As if to say - you really think he was a tease before? You haven’t seen the least of it. 
“S’fuckin’ sloppy f’me even through these slutty panties.” he grunts, lips smacking against your swollen ones. “Don’ lie - you like this, huh? Like what a tease I am? Acting so tough when m’so sorry?”
Okay, maybe Geto lied - so what if he said he’s sorry? It was all worth it at how you get so wetter, slick just glistening all over his lips and chin. Walls clenching around nothing - because might’ve said sorry, but oh is he still as petty as ever.
“N-no-” you whimper, and both of you know it’s a lie. Close - you were so close. 
Too close, if you asked Geto.
Smack!
A quick, sharp sting on your ass - just a little reminder that this is Geto. Your Geto. And it’s so torturous - so addictive - when he immediately shifts them ever-so-slightly. Wasting no time before lapping at your juices. Just loving the way your jaw drops open in disbelief as he throws his head back to let it slide down, down, down his throat.
“My girl is such a liar.” Grinning at the way you jolt on top of him with each teasing lick at your quivering hole, dragging your slopppy pussy all over his face. “S’fuckin’ wet and you still think you’re mad? And I’m being so-” Rolling his tongue against your clit. Hard. “-nice, too.” 
He was not - he knew it. In fact, he was probably being meaner than usual. Mean with the way he thinks your fucked-out head shake speaks enough. 
Of course, you still have to run your mouth when you’re being absolutely ruined by him. Whining out an unconvincing. “M’still- m-mad.” - even when you’re deliriously riding his pretty mouth.
Without a word, Geto snaps back your useless panties back in place. One hand on your hip, easily lifting you off his face - letting you fall back prettily onto his lap as he gets up. Weeping tip just nudging your dripping entrance as he reaches behind to tie back his long hair.
And you’re so disappointed at how you were so close, that you almost miss the words that spill from his mouth next.
“Then, will you still be mad if I fuck you just as nicely?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Ruined panties?!
“Please baby, let me put it in. Please?” 
God, how badly you wanted to just break and give your needy boyfriend exactly what he wants - to let him fuck you how he wanted. But, no, he’d just ruined your favorite pair of underwear and you were not going to let him off so easily again. 
“Fuck- Cho.” you huff, fighting to keep your voice steady. “If y’wanna get off to my panties so bad, then ngh- just use that.”
“But, baby. M’sorry.” Choso’s head drops to the crook of your neck, abs rubbing up against your back so sinfully from where he was all pressed up. “I’ll be good this time. So good.” Hands groping underneath your t-shirt, throbbing erection grinding against your absolutely drenched panties. From Choso’s precum or your own slick? You have no idea. “Please?”
And he’s so desperate that Choso probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s sliding his soaked cock between your swollen folds. Fucking his hips forwards languidly, hissing at how dripping wet you already were.
“T-this is being ‘good’?” you gasp at the feeling of his dick, so hot and heavy where you needed him the most. And it’s such a sinful little sound that he immediately snakes a hand down to toy with your throbbing clit - wanting, needing more of it. 
“Yes.” nibbling down your neck. It’s like a dam has been broken with each cute little whine escaping your throat. “Yes yes yes yes- Wan’ this so bad. Please.” 
Your angry facade is crumbling away bit by bit - and both of you know it. Especially when Choso cranes his head until it’s mere inches away from yours. Dark strands of hair tickle your face as he catches your lips in such a searing kiss.
“Oh god.” he groans into your lips, hips stuttering forward in-between your thighs. Precum smearing everywhere and adding to the mess already down below. “Yeah- kiss me properly, baby. I deserve at least that, hm?”
A resounding rip! of fabric sounds down from below. And you don’t know what you break the kiss to say - to tease him some more? Beg him to just fuck you the way you know he wants? 
But it doesn’t matter, because as soon as Choso feels your lips leaving his, he’s chasing after them again with a pained grunt. Licking so sloppily at the seam of your lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you deeper onto his cock.
“No- no no no, kiss me.” You can feel his prominent veins rubbing up against you, throbbing in a lewd little thump! thump! thump! as his hips get more calculated. Purposeful. “M’sorry m’sorry, Kiss me ngh- kiss me- need it. Need you-”
And God you should’ve known that Choso wouldn’t be acting this good for so long. 
No sooner are you grinding back down on him in shallow, mindless little motions - he’s pulling your panties to the side just enough for his weeping tip to drag lazily against your folds. 
“Fuck- please, baby.” He sounds so wrecked already - and looks like it just as much. Skin flushed, eyes hazy and miles away, kiss-bitten lips letting out such sinful little moans that you just know he’ll be embarrassed about later. “M’sorry.”
Panties completely soiled with precum and slick, absolutely ruined in just the way you’d been telling off Choso for not too long ago. Nothing but a slightly tattered, dripping wet mess. What a shame.
What a shame you couldn’t care less.
Scoffing, “F-fine.” But it comes out a bit more breathless than you intended - because Choso’s desperation was contagious. Hands everywhere, chest heaving, fat head pulsing right below your sloppy entrance. “Only this time m’ngh- l-letting you off easy.”
You know it won’t be the last time - and your boyfriend does, too. 
Because he doesn’t waste a second. The sentence barely leaving your mouth before Choso’s sinking into your heavenly pussy inch by fucking inch. Brows scrunching together at the way you were sucking the soul out of him, neat fingernails on your hips as he holds you still. 
“G-god- so fucking- good. So tight-” he hisses lowly, thrusting in shallow, mindless little movements just to squeeze inside your walls. “Ah- feel so much better than any panties.” 
“S-so needy, Cho-”
“I know, m’sorry, m’sorry. Hah-” So fucking massive that it feels like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. The stretch too sinful, your panties too soaked, breath too hot against your ear as he whispers.“F-fuck- Now, be good f’me, hm?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - “No more tears.”
“Shut up.” you flinch as he spits on your cunt once. Twice. Feeling like such a fucking toy as he smears it with the mess of your sweet juices down below. “How dare you use those evil, evil tears.”
Why would the great Ryomen Sukuna ever apologize? Why would he ever have you sat on his throne, big arms spreading your legs so sinfully in front of him? Just ravaging your poor abused cunt with his swollen cock. The complete opposite of his image as the merciless king of curses. 
Well, that’s exactly what was happening. And it turns out that only a few tears and a single huff of him “not spending enough time” with you today was all it took - to have him bowing down to you. 
And all you can do is let out a broken, “I-I didn’t.” 
And that only seems to spur Sukuna further, like he was angry more than anything. Angry at you for being so cute and pouty when you’re mad. Angry at himself for letting his pretty lil’ human get this way. Spoiled, so spoiled. 
“Liar.”  he grunts, spreading your swollen folds further apart with his index - just circling your sloppy hole. “The only time you’re s’pposed to be cryin’ is on my fingers. And-” he slides his angry, weeping tip down your cunt in a long, wet movement. Up and down. Up and down. Smirking at how you’re bucking and pleading under his touch. “-my cock.”
As if to prove his point, Sukuna’s dipping his cock past that first feeble ring of resistance - difficult, with how you’re clenching around him so sinfully as if you’re trying to milk him already.
“Yeah, jus’ like that.” he groans, thumb rubbing obscene little circles on your poor clit. “Suckin’ me up so good. Do y’get sluttier when you’re mad? When you’re makin’ me apologise?”
“Ngh- sh-shut up.”
And oh for how suave Sukuna’s acting, he can’t deny the way his heart squeezes so dangerously at the way you’re letting out delirious little moans. Fucking you so completely dumb. 
And he was barely halfway in still.
Legs spreading obscenely wider, clawing onto the chair - his wrist - his shoulders, just anything to help drag your sloppy pussy all over his toned pelvis. To fuck him deeper. 
“Heh, cryin’ like you want me to be like this.” He’s rocking his hips in jagged, shallow thrusts that have you letting out such teary moans. “Want me to fuckin’ apologise?” Hard enough that you know it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, fingers on your clit, hands spreading your calves. “Well m’sorry, see? M’so so sorry, brat.”
You gasp, “S-so mean, Kuna- hngh-
Yet he sounds anything but. Tone way too fucking delighted at the prospect of having you crying on his thick cock than over some stupid little argument. 
And fuck, Sukuna should tease you about how fucking wet you are, how you’re grinding your hips down on him like such a slut. So sloppy all over the expensive throne - gonna be a hell of a job for whoever cleans this. 
But, ah, those pretty lil’ tears welling up in your eyes will surely be the death of him. Or maybe the death of you.
“Now now,” he can’t help but huff out a dark chuckle at your disappointed whine as he pulls his fingers away from your throbbing clit. Biting back a deep groan at how glossy they were, just drenched in all of you. “No more cryin’. Told ya I’m sorry, didn’t I?”
And Sukuna meant it.
Because, immediately, he’s shoving two fingers into your mouth. All the blood in his body just rushing to his cock at how filthily you were gagging at the intrusion. 
At the same time, reeling his hips back to let himself fuck your tight pussy to the hilt. Rolling his hips forward, all the way until his fat head just kissed your cervix - nothing at all like the almost-gentle little grinds from before. 
Eyes widening when he presses right at the back of your throat - exactly where he knew would draw out the prettiest noises from you. Like he was pushing all the way into your lungs. To the back of your throat. Too much. 
You’re just as shocked as Sukuna when you cum from just this. Pathetic little moans muffled and slurring together. Jolts of white-hot pleasure going all the way from his fingers in your mouth to your sloppy cunt, fluttering so obscenely around his cock.
God, you were perfect. 
“Oh?” he’s chuckling over your delirious little blubbers, “Well, whaddaya know. M’gonna have to get you to give me more of those tears, brat.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Show you!
When the bouquets and the expensive chocolates don’t work, what else is Gojo to do other than let you tie him up with his blindfold and ride him to insanity? Both a punishment to himself and an apology, of course.
“Sweetheart- fuck!” Gojo groans, hips bucking up to shove his swollen cock deeper into your sloppy pussy. “You’re killin’ me, shit shit shit-”
Nevermind that he doesn’t think he’s ever been harder at the sinful sight of you bouncing on his aching cock above him. 
“Sh-shut up, ngh- Toru.” you gasp, hands trembling on his sculpted chest as you claw for some sense of stability. Cunt so wet and dripping all the way down his thick cock as you fuck yourself on him like some toy. “T-talkin’ too fuckin’ much.”
Oh. how he wanted to ruin you like he could. 
And he’s letting out such a guttural whine, feet planting on the plush mattress to rock you harder - deeper - down his dick.“But, my girl~” Tugging on the blindfold, acting like it did anything to restrain him. “You’re being so hah- mean.”
“And why’s that?” you scoff, undeterred by those long lashes batting innocently up at you. “You’re still- fuck- still not forgiven f-for crashing my hngh- girls night out, Toru.” 
“Still?”
“Still.”
Oh. Well, Gojo might as well just speed up this apology process before he loses his patience - and his sanity. Steadily dwindling away each time you slam your sloppy pussy down on him, with each trail of slick and precum smearing along his pelvis. 
And it’s so easy, too. 
RIP! 
Feeling like he’ll fucking explode, half-lucid mind barely even registering the way he easily tears through that flimsy blindfold, the fabric absolutely nothing against the way Gojo is running on pure need and the thought of you you you-
You can only squeal as his fingers immediately find your waist, gripping so hard you wondered whether it would bruise. “Toru- didn’t you say m- ngh- t-takin’ control?” 
“Change of plans.” Is all Gojo grunts out. Lifting your hips so effortlessly up, up, up - only to ram you down on his rock-hard cock with no warning. Filling you up completely - no more of those teasing little grinds and shallow thrusts you were torturing him with. No, Gojo Satoru was well and fully intent on fucking his apology into you. And he says so, of course. “F-fuck m’sorry. Gonna fuck it into this pretty ngh- cunt. M’sorry.”
“Oh- You’re so deep, Toru- hngh.” you whine, fully letting your boyfriend rock his hips up into yours like his favorite sextoy. “C-can feel you deep inside here-”
And oh Gojo thinks he could cum right then and there as you trail down a hand to press on your stomach, right where his weeping tip was massaging all your sweet spots. Stretching you out so sinfully. 
“You little minx.” he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, eyes narrowing at your obscenely fucked-out state. “Now m’not sorry.” 
“W-wha-” He shuts you up with a quick circle on your pulsing clit, toying with the sensitive nub as he runs his mouth instead. 
“M’not sorry I crashed that hah- lil’ hangout.” Hips so harsh against yours, forcing you to feel every dip and curve of Gojo’s muscled body. “Not sorry I ngh- fuck introduced myself to that fuckin’ loser of a waiter that was ah- eyeing you up. Not sorry that I get to fuck you like this afterward.”
And it’s true - Gojo didn’t sound the least bit remorseful about anything he did. Confidence only growing more and more with each pathetic little moan that leaves your swollen lips in agreement. 
You’re shaking on top of him, the stimulation too much. “Shit- you’re such a smug- bastard, Toru.”
“Don’ act like y-you don’t like this, sweetheart.” he pulls your head down to catch your lips with his. Barely - just a mess of teeth and saliva and words he’s hissing out, “Jus like you’re -fuck fuck fuck s’too good- acting to be mad with me.” Each word punctuated with a harsh, sloppy jab of his hips that have the breath leaving your lungs. “Mad with how ngh- you’ve got the s-strongest groveling at your fuck- feet.” Movements getting faster. Deeper. “M’forgiven r-right?”
Your voice strained as you whisper against his lips, “Kiss me properly, Toru.”
And he is - kissing you like he’s so sorry as the both of you reach your highs. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Your gummy walls milking the fucking soul out of Gojo as he cums in thick, hot spurts. Painting your walls a lewd little white that trickles down you shaking thighs. Over and over and-
So, so sloppy. Arms looping around your waist to hold your hips still. Muffling his deep moans into your mouth as his hips slow down only ever-so-slightly, pumping you full of his seed. And it’s almost…sweet.
If only it hadn’t been for the words that leave him as soon as he parts, of course. 
“Hey, now that we had apology sex, can we have regular sex, too?”
“...”
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A/N. PSA don’t work out relationship stuff like this hehe.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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sanjisblackasswife · 2 days
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JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)
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…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.
Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso
Black ! Fem Reader in Mind
CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC
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Gojo
Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled
He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.
He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.
“You have a very voluptuous—“
“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”
“You don’t know what the word vo—-“
“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”
Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?
No.
No he cannot.
He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.
He’s so hot damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on
“CAN YOU STOP.”
“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”
When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite
Yup.
Moomoo.
Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.
Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.
He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man.
Geto
He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.
He loves watching you put on clothes.
Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.
If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.
One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.
He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.
Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.
The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.
He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?
Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and jump against the cool shower wall.
He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , you only you and him know the real intention begin it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.
Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.
“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”
“YES.”
“Good, now c’mere.”
Toji
Ass eater.🫵🏾
That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.
Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro
You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE
As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.
“You like my dress?”
“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”
SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil
He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere
For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.
“OOWWUH!”
“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”
Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.
Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure son kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly that can get you off before him
Toji is your new seat btw.
Not just his pretty face but his lap too.
He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him.
Nanami
This man here.
A KING.
Freaky king but a king none the less.
He loved every part of you.
Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out
Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back
Nanami however does this
ESPECIALLY on date night.
Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself
“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”
“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”
And now hes blushing.
He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.
Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.
Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.
“It’s okay, baby honest. Use my face.”
“Kentoooo—!??”
One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.
Choso
Lord bless him.
He is very….confused to say the least.
He never understood the attraction of women’s part.
Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.
“Oh.”
“…oh?”
“You—“
You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.
Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT on you
“You’re sex—cute…”
Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…
You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.
Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.
So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.
Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.
Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind
Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.
Moans at the sight everytime
No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.
He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and jump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.
If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.
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elliewithcellie · 3 days
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summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)
wc: 9.8k (oh my god)
cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously
a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on
“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.
Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.
His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”
You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.
You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.
The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.
Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.
“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.
You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”
“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”
“Sounds good.”
You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.
“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”
You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.
You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.
“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.
Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.
------
“Hotchner.”
You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.
“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”
You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.
“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.
You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.
------
The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.
The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.
Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”
“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”
 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”
“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?
The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   
You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”
“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.
“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.
“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”
You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.
Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.
Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.
You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.
As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.
You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.
“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.
You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”
“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.
“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.
“What’s your book about?”
Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.
“It’s a romance,” you confessed.
“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”
You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”
You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.
“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.
You smiled at his words.
“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.
“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”
You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.
“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”
You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.
“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”
“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.
“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”
“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.
“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”
“My dad said all that?”
“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.
Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.
“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”
“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”
“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”
“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”
He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.
“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.
“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”
You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.
“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”
You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.
------
You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.
You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.
“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”
He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.
“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”
“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.
You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”
“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.
You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.
As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.
The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.
“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”
“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.
-------
In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.
“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.
“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.
JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”
You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.
“No, I slept fine. I swear.”
“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”
“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.
“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”
“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”
 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.
His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”
Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.
“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”
“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.
Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”
The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”
“Y/N,” Reid said.
All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.
“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”
“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”
“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.
“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.
“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”
-------
For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.
You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.
“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”
You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.
You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.
Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.
“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.
“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”
You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.
“Put it on.”
You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.
“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.
“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”
“That’s it,” Morgan said.
“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”
On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.
“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”
“Yes, sir. I got it.”
“We’re counting on you.”
“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.
Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”
You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.
------
You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.
Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.
“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.
You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”
“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”
The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”
“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”
“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.
“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.
Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.
“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.
------
The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.
------
You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.
Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.
“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.
“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”
“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”
Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.
“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.
Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.
Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.
“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”
You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.
When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.
“How are you?”
“Everything hurts.”
“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”
“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”
“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”
“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”
“Yes?”
“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”
Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”
“Hotch. Please.”
Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”
You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.
“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”
He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.
“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”
You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.
“It was you?” you asked.
Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”
“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”
The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”
Hotch shook his head no.
“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”
Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”
“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”
Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.
You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”
The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.
“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.
“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.
Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”
The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.
“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”
“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.
“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.
Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.
Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.
Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.
“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.
A few of them chuckled at your antics.
“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”
“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.
“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.
“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.
“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.
A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”
“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.
You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.
“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.
Imagine how Hotch must have felt.
“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.
The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.
“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”
“You need sleep, sir.”
“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”
You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”
“It’s why I offered.”
You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”
“What can I do?”
“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”
“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”
When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.
“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.
“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”
You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”
He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.
“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”
Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”
He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.
“Goodnight, Hotch.”
“Goodnight.”
------
You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.
The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.
“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.
“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.
You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.
“How can I help?”
You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”
His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.
“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.
“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”
“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.
“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”
All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.
“Wait,” you said.
He froze.
You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”
You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.
“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”
You nodded.
He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.
------
The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.
When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.
“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”
“I can get my things just fine.”
“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”
You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.
The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.
Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.
“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”
You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.
You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”
“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.
You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.
Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.
Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.
“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”
“Hotch, what is all this?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”
“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.
“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”
Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”
“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”
“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”
Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”
You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”
“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.
“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”
“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”
“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”
“I would do that for anyone.”
“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.
“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.
“This morning…” you said.
“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”
“Then what did Reid mean?”
Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”
“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”
“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”
You looked at him in shock.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”
“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”
Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”
“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”
“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”
“Stop it, now.”
“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”
“Hotch, I swear to god—”
“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”
“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”
“But he’s not just mean, is he?”
The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.
“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”
“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.
Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”
You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”
Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”
“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”
His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.
He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”
“This is ok,” you said, breathless.
“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”
A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”
You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.
“Your room. Now.”
His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.
Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.
“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.
You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”
“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.
You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.
“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.
“You, first.”
Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.
“Your turn,” he said.
You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.
“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.
You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.
“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.
“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”
Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.
“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.
You nodded.
“Use your words, honey.”
Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”
He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.
“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.
“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”
Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.
Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.
A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.
“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.
“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.
“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.
“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.
When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.
Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.
“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.
“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  
You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”
He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.
Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.
“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”
“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”
Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.
You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”
Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.
Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.
“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”
“Faster, please,” you said.
His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.
“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”
He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.
“Just like that!” you blurted out.
He did just that, slamming into you again and again.
“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.
“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.
He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.
“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”
You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.
“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”
“Chest!”
He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.
Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.
“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”
“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”
Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.
“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.
“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”
“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”
In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.
“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.
“The team’s gonna know,” you said.
Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”
You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”
“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”
Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.
************
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luveline · 1 day
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Can I please get the aftermath of a fight with Hotch? Maybe they’re both stressed after a particular case and things got a little heated?
ty for requesting !! fem, 1k
You hate when Hotch shouts. 
Morose, you lay in a slouch on the couch with your hand between your face and the armrest, knuckles aching from the pressure. You’re attempting to self soothe, but your misery is worsened by your own ministrations, your thumb a useless thing on your cheek. You can’t do it like Hotch can. There’s no second meaning. 
You assume him to be in the kitchen where you left him. 
Nobody likes to fight, but you think you might be the most unwilling participant for any argument with him. He’s patient, and mellow-headed the majority of the time, so when he does get heated you can’t help thinking you’ve done something really awful.
You get the worst of worries sitting there. That you’re too much effort for him, that you don’t fit. That he’s going to realise these things and cut you loose. 
Your tears are lazy. Your shoulders shudder with your breathing, but there isn't a sound to them, just heat where they well at the corner of your eye and drip over your nose. You sniffle, pressing the back of your hand to your top lip. 
It’s cold in the living room. Immediately hotter when Hotch sits down beside you. You lift your head on instinct, surprised at his sudden presence, tears jolting down your cheeks like flash floods. When you realise it’s him and what you’re doing, you turn your face back to the armrest with held breath. 
He hesitates for a moment.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” you mumble. 
He drapes himself over your contorted frame. Arm weaving under your stomach, face pressing firmly to the nape of your neck, his right hand on your shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he says, hand working into your tense shoulder blade lovingly, his thumb drawing lines. “Don’t cry.” 
“Are you still angry?” 
“No,” he says, his voice ladened with a light sincerity, “I’m not angry.” 
You feel like he’s holding back. Upset again, you attempt to find his hand where it’s cupping the space just below your chest and hold it weakly, smaller fingers on his, looking for a better forgiveness. It doesn’t come. You cry so much it starts to make you feel sick, and concern your weary partner, his frown getting deeper where it’s pressed to your neck. 
“I’m not mad,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for yelling, honey, is that what’s upset you?” 
You just hate the idea that he could feel against you. It’s like a mixture of regret, anger, and now frustration, because you hadn’t wanted to cry at all, much less be comforted. Although, admittedly, the comforting is holding you together. 
“Come on,” he says, kissing your cheek between words, “let’s sit up before you hurt your back.” 
He sits back and pulls at your arm until you're sitting upright on the sofa. Your gaze falls to your legs, your hand curled uselessly on your thigh, your tears slowly pooling and falling in succession. You scrunch your face up as another wave of misery hits you. 
“I’m s-sorry,” you say. 
“For what?” he asks, far less emotional than you, and yet not completely stony, either. 
“I didn’t mean to cry.” You bring your hand to your face to wipe at your tears and runny nose, irked, not wanting him to see you. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.
Hotch leans down to kiss your shoulder, which works to calm you down. Another kiss to your neck and your horrible cloud of emotion starts to clear. 
He can’t hate you if he’s kissing you. 
“I’m sorry I made it a fight,” Hotch says, “I never would have if I thought you’d get this upset.” 
“We can’t not fight just because I might cry.” 
“That’s exactly why we shouldn’t. I never want to make you cry.” 
“I hate when you–” You cut yourself off, the confession sure to make you look small. 
“What?” he prompts gently.
“I hate when you yell because– because you never do.” 
He’d only raised his voice for a few words, and it hadn’t been to your discredit, he’d been telling you to leave it alone. Perhaps if he’d been insulting you it would make sense for you to cry this much, but yelling is part of any argument. You can’t work out why it’s affected you. 
“I feel so stupid,” you confess. 
“I’m sorry, honey,” he says, wrapping his arm behind your back to pull you flush to his side, “I don’t know how it got so out of hand. You’re never stupid, I’m just stubborn. I shouldn’t shout.” 
You twist to be facing him. He frowns at your wet cheeks. 
“Do you want to kiss and make up?” you ask tentatively. 
Hotch doesn’t roll his eyes or laugh at your question —he can tell you’re being serious. “Can we?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand. 
He rubs a loving line into the side of your face, and every tight string in you is cut. You kiss him quickly, worried it’ll be a bad one, but find yourself encouraged for a longer one by his hand, your eyes squeezed closed in stress relaxing the longer it goes on. He’s gentle with you, his lips parting atop yours. 
He pulls away. You hide your face in the curve of his neck. 
“Can you forgive me for being cruel?” he asks quietly. 
“You’re not cruel, Aaron. I hate being on a different side from you, that’s all.” 
His first name makes all the difference to him. He sneaks a couple of kisses into your temple and begins to relax as you have, two sad lumps on the couch who only want the comfort of the other. 
You rub loving lines up and down his side, finally feeling better as he breathes his own sigh of relief. 
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slvttyplum · 2 days
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hey, if you haven’t done this yet, can i rq geto who loves dressing his s/o up and taking photos of them but it has major sexual tension 🥹
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if someone were to ask suguru what his hobby was, he would say that his whole hobby pertained to you. getting cute outfits for you to wear allowed him to take hundreds and hundreds of pictures, and he never got tired of it.
your shared closet being filled up with outfits that you only wore once, but suguru wanting to keep them for sentimental value, even wrapping them up so that they wouldn't get any unnecessary dust on them.
taking the time to move you around and take pictures from all different angles was what got his heart pumping, and the little friend in his pants was shooting up. you were so photogenic that you didn't have to do anything; all you had to do was stare into the camera and look pretty.
these weren't for a project or anything; he kept them for his own keeping, printing them out at the end of the day and cutting them into his scrapbook dedicated to you. two pages each of the same look and you in different ooses, his cheeks getting warm and covered with a pink tint whenever he found himself flipping through the pages.
running his finger over your face every time he flipped a page, he was always so amazed when he went back to look through the scrapbook in its entirety because you looked like a model. you never had to hold a pose for too long because any position you were in fit what he wanted.
"too cute for your own good; look into the camera, baby." his body was above you, and as you lay on the bed with your arms above your head, all you heard were sweet praises and the camera clicking. you couldn't help but smile.
about to cover your face from being too embarrassed even though you did this every weekend, suguru grabbed your arm and smiled at you as he took another picture.
"what was that? dont hide your face; that's the money maker." a laugh erupting from your mouth as he continues to take pictures, not waiting to see if the camera is still in focus. you looked amazing; he couldn't wait.
this is all he ever wanted—to find someone to admire, take care of, and fawn over—and he finally found you. someone he could look at for hours on end and never get tired, his eyes scanning over every little thing on your face.
it was incredible. how could someone look so good so easily?
his heart beats faster when he realizes he's been staring at you without taking any pictures. even though this camera captured so many good moments between the two of you and especially you, the camera could never capture the beauty of your face through a lens.
you were much more than that.
even with the silly costumes and the mini skirts that didn't cover half of your ass, he always found himself looking at your face for the longest time. that's the only thing he could focus on, and he didn't know if buying the outfits every time was a waste or not; he just loved to have these pictures of you for when he missed you.
he just wanted to be selfish for those three hours out of a seven-day period.
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sweetnans · 1 day
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Katsuki always paid attention to little details even when you were only a number in his mind. You ended number seven on the charts after the tests for UA application. He memorized the first ten and then recognized each one of you on the first day of class.
Your ID photo that appeared beside your score wasn't nothing alike like you were in person.
He completely flipped.
He pushed the feeling aside because he had no time to waste on stupid things, and he succeeded for a long, long time. Bakugo ignored you, pretended that you didn't exist and the fact that you were part of Midoriya's group the first months made it easy for him to keep you far away but that also made it hard to watch.
Why were you laughing at what shitty Deku had said? That fucker wasn't that funny.
Why was your hand on Deku's hair ruffling and combing it with your fingers?
He was fuming on the inside.
When Mina started to hang out with you, he was relieved that he won't have to see you with Deku again.
But then, you started to hang out with his group, and everyone loved you instantly. Kirishima always wanted to sparr with you, Kaminari always asked for your help on math and Sero, fucking Sero always inviting you to dance with him.
After he saw the behavior of his friends when it came to you, he almost preferred you hanging out with Deku.
He noticed that you smiled brightly every time Kirishima told you one of his dumbs jokes while having you pinned down on the floor mat after a sparr, but you never laughed.
He noticed your leg trembling under the table when you studied with Kaminari in the common room. He could bet that the bastard used every chance he got to flirt with you in the most hideous way.
He also noticed your pink tinted cheeks every time Sero gave you his hand for a quick dance around the kitchen.
Almost like you were uncomfortable with their demeanor.
You were pretty. He understood that they were making their moves to you, but you were just too shy and good to say anything to them, like you weren't interested at all for example.
One night, he couldn't sleep and went straight to the kitchen of the dorms to grab a glass of water. He never expected seeing you there scrolling in your phone leaning by the sink, waiting for the toaster to pop your bread out.
"You shouldn't be eating carbohydrates this late"
He startled you. He literally appeared from the shadows of the dining room dragging his feet, making no sound at all.
"Jeez, you should wear a bell or something," you giggled when he gave you a puzzled look. "Like a cat? So next time I know that you're coming?"
"I know what you meant." he walked to you and grabbed a glass from the rack.
He felt your presence in his bones like a static pulse vibrating under his skin. Maybe it was just your quirk trying to reach for him.
"What are you doing here this late?" You asked clearing your throat while he gulped his water in one go.
"What does it seem like I'm doing?" He pourred another glass. He wasn't that thirsty. He just wanted to be there in silence with you for minutes, without his obnoxious friends.
Your toast popped out of the toaster, and you grabbed it, burning your fingers in the process.
"Shit, shit," you exclaimed, blowing some air at your fingers to ease the pain.
"C'mere shithead," he grabbed your hand and put it under the sink, letting the cold water flow.
"It's fucking freezing" you tried to pull your hand back but his grip tightened.
"What did you expect? You just burned your fucking fingers doing the dumbest shit I've ever seen"
You didn't know if it was the serious tone on his voice or the way that he was struggling with you stopping you from taking your hand out of the water, but something about the scene made you let out a laugh, a big one. He had never seen you laugh like that before.
"Are you laughing at me?"
That question only made it worse. You were absolutely parting yourself from laughter. He turned off the water and watched you wipe your tears.
"I'm sorry, you're not that funny," you said, returning to your normal state. He grinned.
You passed by his side fetching your toast and poured some jam.
"Do you want some jammie toast with that water of yours?" You asked, offering a half eaten toast.
"Sure." he took the toast, and in return, he gave you his half glass of water.
After that encounter, he noticed that every time his friends were around you, you always tried to find him, looking for exchange glances, giving him a subtle smile.
He started to show up at your study sessions with Kaminari, and he noticed that your legs stopped trembling because his presence was enough for Kaminari to keep his mouth shut.
He also began sparring with you on training sessions switching partner with Kirishima leaving him with Sato.
And everytime Sero tried to dance with you in front of everybody he grabbed your arm and guided you to the kitchen or his room with a lame excuse to get you out of the situation.
Fortunately, his friend read the room pretty well. The three of them enjoyed more watching him play his cards with you than putting themselves on a constant shame.
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lxnarphase · 3 days
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━━ ❝ HE LIKES IT WET 'N' MESSY ❞
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ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...synopsis : the more you think about it, the more you realize you love how messy atsumu is…
ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...cw : m. atsumu x fem!reader, wet and messy, ovėrstimulation, dirty talk, marathon sėx, desperation, playful banter, unprotected sēx, excessive cūm (?), atsumu's undiscovered breēding kınk, begging, messy kissing, atsumu miya can't shut the fuck up
ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...lunar's note : another revamping of an old work of mine where i just. make this even more debauched and filthier than it was before !!
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if there’s one word to describe atsumu miya, it’s messy.
sometimes, he leaves his clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, waiting until you playfully kick him in the butt to pick up his things and put them in the laundry.
he's also so messy when it comes to eating, always having food on his face, causing you to tease him as he tries to wipe it off, completely missing.
it doesn't bother you that much, having already grown used to his messy nature.
it does bother you, however, when he makes a big mess of the sheets. he's always ignoring your whines for him to get a towel to put down or else you'd make him do laundry for the rest of the week.
atsumu always gives the same damn response, a long whine of your name, telling you he’ll clean it up after.
after all, atsumu doesn't think he can bring himself to pull out of your slick heat, not when you feel this fucking good. he can't remember the last time he got to fuck you like this, messy and desperate without worrying about needing to get up early the next day to catch a bus or plane for a game.
he swears he almost forgot how warm you were, how sweet your voice sounds when you were this close to him, how pretty your face looks even when you were looking at him rather annoyed despite being fucked.
“’t-'tsumie, the towel—!”
“baby, nooooo, don’ make me pull out, don' it feel good? d'ya really want me to stop?”
fuck, you can't lie, it feels good, it feels so fucking good, the way he slows his hips to torture you with the slow drag of his cock, making you feel every inch pull out...and then slowly slide back in, a wet squelch signally his hips pressing fully against you.
but that doesn't stop you from being annoyed, knowing your fresh sheets were already a mess.
“d'awww, don’ look at me like that, sweetcheeks. tsumtsum's gonna make ya feel reaaal good if y'forget about the damn sheets,” atsumu huffs, his sweaty hands grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing them closer to your upper body.
its sinful the way he manages to slip in even deep into you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to prevent the pitiful little whimper from leaving him.
“l-lemme make a mess, baby girl, please?”
you want to roll your eyes at his request, because it's a little too late for him to ask you that. his cum from the first round is already dripping out your stuffed cunt, leaking onto the freshly washed bed sheets under you.
it doesn't matter that his sticky cock head is messing up your insides by pressing against all the spots that have you gushing. you just put these sheets on the bed!
giving him the best pout you can manage, you huff, "f-fine—o-oh!"
that pretty little moan shouldn't cause him to react so excitedly, but he can't help it. hearing your approval has him giggling, he knew you'd give in eventually, and he's going to make sure you don't regret it.
besides, hearing you, his sweet lil' princess, try to sound all tough and serious with his cock deep inside your hot gummy walls that were sucking him in with each thrust is making him so dizzy.
you are too damn cute for your own good.
he can't hold back anymore, not when you're so cute. his hands squeeze your thighs before he starts to pound into you, savoring the way you keen for him, mouth open as you chant his name so needily.
you aren't the only one being loud, poor atsumu giving up on holding back all those pretty noises of his, the way your tight walls squeeze and massage his throbbing dick so sweetly making it literally impossible to stay quiet.
“f-fuck, 'tsumu, ‘s too deep, ’s coming out more,” you whimper, trying to lift your hips to stop his cum from leaking out of you.
the wetness of your overstimulated cunted paired with his leaking cum causes the room to be filled with loud, wet, squelching, causing you to look down.
you suck in a breath, a hot pang of pleasure shooting up your spine at the sight between your legs. atsumu’s stupidly big dick is an absolute creamy mess that only seems to get messier the more he moves, pulling and pushing the sticky mixture of your cum in and out.
“listen to that, dolly, s' fuckin’ dirty. mmnh, tight l-lil' cunt can’t hold all my cum?”
god, atsumu doesn't ever shut up, he's always such a talker, knowing how embarrassed it makes you.
“c’mon, say it, angel, say it f' me, pretty please?”
“a…atsumu, i can’t hold all of your cum…’s comin’ out, ‘tsumu, you're making me messy.”
he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it, god, he really wasn't, but you did and now his eyes are fluttering as they roll back into his skull.
don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, he chants to himself, feeling himself nearly lose it just from your words.
a choked groan forces its way out of his mouth, you're just too fucking hot for him. he can't think of anything but you, your pretty face, your soft body, and your insanely wet cunt.
“s’okay, s’okay, fuck, i’ll-i'll fuck ya, pumpkin, 't-'tsumi's gonna fuck ‘n’ fill ya up over ‘n’ over again, 'til y'can't keep it all inside, gotta stuff you with my cum, make you cream around my cock, need it, need it.”
atsumu is absolutely gone, now fully pressing into you as he fucks you into the mattress. each thrust makes you cry his name, fingers digging into his back as he puts you into a mating press, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, so ready to pump another hot load into you.
it's too much, the drag of his cock and the way it was so deep inside you. tears prick the corners of your eyes, each thrust making your brain slowly turn into nothing but mush. you hate the mess, you really do, but hearing atsumu so desperate does something for you.
you...you want it, you want him to mess you up.
your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you moan and pant against his ear.
“a-atsumu, honey,” you coo to him, savoring the stuttering of his hips and the quiet hiss of ‘fuck’ you get out of him from the sound of your voice. “please, please fuck me more, fuck me, fill me up, stuff my pussy with your cum, h-honey, mark me nice a-an' deep, okay?”
everyone in the world knows that atsumu miya would give you the world if you asked. so you want to be filled up nice and full? then, he'll give you what you want, take such good care of you and make sure you feel him dripping out of you for days.
“yeah, yeah, fuck, good girl. take this cock, take it like a good girl, so good, my pretty girl, fuck! s-she takes this cock so well, wish you could see how good ya look stretched 'round me like this, baby, ohmyfuckin'goddd.”
you can't stop yourself, pulling him into a sloppy, desperate, the need to taste him overwhelming as your hands get tangled in his hair. he pulls away, panting into your mouth as his thrusts get harder and sloppier.
it's just a fucking mess now, your slick and cream and his cum are coating his abdomen and thighs, dripping everywhere. each thrust has you splashing on him from how fucking wet you are, and atsumu feels like he's gonna fucking faint if he tries to hold off his orgasm for much longer.
“'tsumu, 't-tsumu, 'tsumu—!"
“t-tell me ya want it, baby girl, p-please? c-c'mon, tell me y'want my fuckin' cum inside ya, n-need ta hear it,” he begs against your mouth, eyes watery as desperate tears threaten to spill.
you can't think, can't give a coherent response as you babble, the word ‘please’ falling from your lips over and over again. you just want him to stop talking and kiss you again as he pumps your needy hole full of his seed, until you can't take anymore, until it spurts out from around his cock.
but then, he stops.
a strangled sob leaves you the second his hips stop moving. it's borderline painful, you're so fucking close. just a few more thrusts and you'd be creaming all over his thick cock, tugging and pulling on his hair as your slick squirts all over him.
but no, atsumu fucking stopped.
you look at him with teary eyes, silently begging him to explain. this is just unfair to both of you! but atsumu only gives you a cocky grin, and you have to stop yourself from flicking his nose.
he grants you some relief, rolling his hips gently as his hand slides up to cup the back of your head as he pepper your sweaty cheek in open mouthed kisses. he's so annoying, you love him so bad.
“dunno, pumpkin, don' think ya begged enough f'me. hmm...i’ll give ya one more shot, baby…tell me how fucking much ya want my fuckin’ cum in yer pretty cunt and make ya a creamy lil' mess."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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rizsu · 3 days
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food for thought, except it’s unwanted jujutsu kaisen : fem-reader.
have you ever wondered about a scenario so much that you must ask? well that’s exactly the last thing they’d wish to answer.
+ love ‘su: gojo, geto, itadori + ‘live, laugh, love’ hater final boss ( sukuna )
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gojo satoru ノ refuses to answer.
“do you ever think about how it’d be if we never met?”
“ha— no. don’t even go there.”
satoru stops you there. he doesn’t wish to hear another word from you— especially if it extends your former question. he thinks about it— daily, in fact. it's a scenario that crosses his mind whenever he finds himself drunk on the temporary love he receives from you.
you’ve sung the lyric ‘i’ll love you until there’s no more left’ almost every week for him, silently begging that he gets the concept of genuine love through his head.
“why not? imagine if my friends didn’t make that bet where i either hit on you or pay for the night.” you reminisced, remembering the very night you lost the last touch of shame.
he hums, drumming his fingers on your thigh.
“bet or not, we’d still be fated to meet. next question!”
“anddd what makes you so confident?” you threw another question at him. this time, it's lighthearted.
“mind you, i’m the second coming of an angel. i predetermined this since three years ago.”
glances were exchanged, an expression of a grinning fool met the expression of a glaring responsible person who’s the said fool’s other romantic half.
you should've been familiar with satoru’s ways. it’s your fault for expecting a deep-dive conversation with satoru. not quite his cup of tea!
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geto suguru ノ expects it and tries to escape.
suguru's home was no new, unexplored area to you. you knew his home's blueprint like the back of your hand. if needed, you'd walk through his home blindfolded and still end up in the room you want to be in.
this isn't a good thing to suguru. there are days where the feeling of confusion as to who he is piles up on him, leading him to isolate himself.. until he forgets there's a spare key of his isolation cube in your hold so now the plan goes awry.
that is exactly what’s happening. after he sent the text ‘k bye’ and silenced his notifications, he felt an impending doom. the reason was unknown by then but he should've guessed it was you.
you marched into his home, readying yourself with suguru-loneliness-begone techniques and, of course, the question that's been wandering your mind since you woke up from a dream.
“babe, what if—”
“fuck,” he curses under his breath, too exhausted to put a hand over your mouth.
“what if we were the last persons on earth? would you recreate humanity with me or kill yourself?”
there it is: your special ‘what if’ questions that know no bounds when it comes to absurdity.
“when would that ever happen? please, stop this,” he groans, pleading with his eyes for you to stop.
“that's the thing— you never know! so, what option is it?”
“i'd kill myself a long time ago if possible.”
“so it's the second one?”
“i'm... not cut out to be a good father.”
“i hate an indecisive bitch, my goodness,” it's your turn to complain, a little let down at his grey answers.
suguru's equally offended. you're the one who jumped him with such a question— who even thinks about that?!
“(y/n), baby, has it ever crossed your mind that your thinking skills aren't quite normal?”
“are you calling me stupid?!”
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itadori yuuji ノ just as stupid.
it's mango season— yuuji's most anticipated season of the year. mangoes are to yuuji what your lipbalm is to you. a necessity, a survival item, a lifesaver, an important part of his lore, something he worships.
peeling mangoes and slicing them to equal pieces has never brought him such satisfaction before. it immediately brightens his mood. this must be how his grandfather felt whenever he took a walk around the neighbourhood.
now you appear, yuuji's second most anticipated person. you to yuuji is what mangoes are to him. this causes yuuji's current happiness level to reach its peak today. such a great level of happiness can defeat any evil being with just being in its area.
“say, yuu,” you begin, stabbing one of the mangoe slices with a fork.
he nods, signalling that he's listening but still focused on his current activity. a true mulit-tasker.
“if one of your limbs happen to detach from your body, do you feel the pain or does the pain go with it?”
he stops, allowing the question to sink in. he's never been asked such a.. divine question before. what's the answer? does the pain go with the limb or does it stay?
“oh... i gotta ask nobara this, she'd know,” he suggests, placing the knife down. a question that'll haunt him if he doesn't act quick for the answer.
“yes, yes!!” you encourage his actions, mindlessly enjoying the mango slices. mangoes are truly a blessing.
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sukuna ryomen ノ no. nice try, though! A+ for effort.
“ryo, have you ever wondered if—”
“no, i never.”
“you didn't even let—”
“i haven't learnt since two-thousand years ago.”
“you old fuck, let me finish—”
“it's truly been a while since i've wondered.”
“DAMN, BITCH!”
you threw the remote at him, ultimately fed up with him cutting you off before the peak of the sentence. it could've been the question of the year and he'd still dodge it.
sukuna invited himself over since he ran out of entertainment options and you're always there for him. unfortunately, you do not find him as entertainin. he's annoying, arrogant, and attractive so it cancels out the negatives about him.
of course, sukuna caught the remote. his athletic capabilities are its prime despite him being dormant for centuries. it'd be a white lie to say he's not interested in your question, however it is way more benefitting to push your buttons.
he throws the remote back onto your bed, drying his hands with your hand-towel before making his merry way to you.
“your bed's small.”
“well no shit. it's for ME.”
“you mad? you look mad.” his hand holds your chin, turning your head side-to-side to observe your expression.
you rolled your eyes, “i don't get mad that easily.”
“is this how people felt when i told them an obvious lie? i should repent.”
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
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Firsts VII
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adeventures Universe
Summary: Your first date
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Talia is wrapped up warm in a coat, hat and scarf. She's shivering slightly as you approach, breathing air into her hands and rubbing them together.
She's just as beautiful as she was on the pitch a few days ago. She spots you heading over and grins, a bolt of lightning travelling down your spine when you finally compute that she's smiling at you and not just the scenery.
"Hi," You say, feeling a little breathless.
Her hand takes yours automatically, lacing your warm gloved fingers with her own freezing ones. Her cold lips press against your cheek in greeting and you feel a blush creep up from your neck.
"Hola," She replies," It is good to see you again."
"You too." You shuffle your feet for a moment. "Do you...Do you want to head in?"
You don't know why she's making your heart go pitter-patter or why you don't want to let go of her hand. You like the way it feels in your own but you have to let her go to claim a table while you buy drinks.
This is your favourite café in the city.
It's been open for a very long time, all the way back to when you were little and coming to Denmark camp with your Momma. You get your usual and then an extremely milky latte for Natalia.
She seems like the type though you gnaw on the inside of your cheek nervously as you bring it over.
You should have asked before she sat down.
"A latte," She says, brows lifting to her hairline and suddenly there's a sinking feeling in your stomach before she speaks again," I love lattes."
You breath out all of your air in relief and settle in your seat.
You hand lies palm up on the table and Talia's hand moves to cover it.
The pitter-patter of your heart picks up and a blush spreads across your cheeks, though you can blame that on the cold weather and not the odd feeling in your chest that you get whenever you look into Talia's eyes.
"They're touching," Magda hisses from across the café, a pair of sunglasses covering her eyes and a red bobble hat hiding her hair.
Pernille sighs, blowing on her own mug of coffee and continuing to scroll through all of the messages her parents have sent. "Well, it is a date."
"It's not a date!" Magda insists," Princesse would have told me if she's going on a date."
Pernille rolls her eyes. "She doesn't even know it's a date. She doesn't even know she's got a crush."
"She's not got a crush! Especially on some-some..."
"Spanish youth star?"
"Some cocky Spanish girl that looks like she eats girls like Princesse for breakfast!"
Pernille holds her tongue, unwilling to set Magda off with the crude joke that's waiting to be let out. She loses that battle though, muttering to herself," Well she certainly wants to eat Princesse one way or another."
Unfortunately, Magda hears her. "Don't say that! She's a baby! Sex isn't even on her radius!"
"Magda, she's a teenager. I don't know about you but the only thing on my mind apart from football was sex."
"La-La-La! I can't hear you!"
You can't hear Pernille either, focused solely on the way Talia hasn't let go of your hand.
You're blinded by her smile, by the way her eyes sparkle and the way she gets excited when she talks about the prank she pulled on her cousin.
"Do you have cousins?"
You wince. "A few but...we're not close."
Talia's brow furrows. "How come?"
"I don't see them a lot and I saw them a lot less when we were younger."
She nods along. "I guess it's different with me and Patri. She's so much older than us that I guess it was easier to play around with her."
"She sounds nice."
Talia grins at you, all mischief and confidence. "Don't let her hear you say that. She'll get a big head."
You laugh with Talia and almost choke on your drink when her fingers gently stroke along your knuckles.
Her hands are less rough than yours. She's never had to wear keeper gloves or catch balls like you have so you suppose that's the reason why.
Her hands are softer than yours, her touch featherlight as the pads of her fingers graze along your knuckles.
"You come here all the time then?" She asks and you draw your eyes away from your joined hands to her eyes again.
"Every time we come to Denmark," You reply.
"That's right. You play in Sweden, don't you?"
You nod.
"I've seen a few of your matches. You're very good."
Your cheeks grow warmer and warmer and you offer up a weak," I'll have to start watching yours now that I know you've seen mine."
"I'd like that. My next goal for the team, I'll dedicate it to you."
Talia has the awful ability to turn you into a pile of mush with just one sentence. You don't understand how or why she has this kind of effect on you.
You're pretty sure you like it though.
You like the warm feeling in your tummy and the pitter-patter in your chest and the blush on your cheeks.
You like the way you feel when Talia looks at you.
You melt into conversation with her like you've known each other for years. You walk her back to her hotel and nearly pass out when she presses a soft kiss to your cheek.
"I'll text you," She says.
"I'd like that."
"Don't say that," She teases, already jogging off," You'll never get rid of me!"
As she runs back inside, you smile. "I don't think I'd mind that."
You stand there for a little while, smiling like an idiot the entire time.
"You know," You say over your shoulder where you know your Morsa is trying hard to hide behind a tree and your Momma is casually sitting on a bench," You guys aren't very sneaky. I saw you sitting inside the moment we walked in."
Magda comes out from behind the tree. "I was just making sure you were safe on your date!"
You frown. "I wasn't on a date. It was just two friends hanging out."
Pernille smiles indulgently at you. "If that's what you think."
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erwinsvow · 3 days
Note
we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33
YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?
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really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.
no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.
you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.
one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.
you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.
that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.
you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.
a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.
you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.
getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.
he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.
leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.
the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?
"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.
your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.
"um, i-"
"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"
"no, it's not what it looks like-"
"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"
rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.
"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"
"what is it then, huh?"
"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.
"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.
"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"
"no you're not."
"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."
when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.
"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."
"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.
"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."
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823 notes · View notes
writingroom21 · 3 days
Text
I Dare You
Pairing: Bestfriend!Rafe x fem!reader
Summary: A game of truth or dare shouldn't be an issue right? Definitely not when it's with you hot best friend. It's all fun and games right?
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), p in v, cockwarming, cream pie, slight chocking and slapping, teasing, let me know if I miss any
Wc: 3.2K
“Let’s play a game or something?” Rafe suggests next to you. You’ve been hanging out for the past few hours. It’s kinda a tradition at this point. Every week the two of you will hang out at either Tanny Hill or your house. The two of you would spend the time watching movies and binge eating pizza or whatever food you decide.
Tonight was the same thing. You had ordered pizza and wings before Rafe got to your house. Giving him the perfect timed entrance with the food since he ran into the delivery boy. That was at least four hours ago and the food is long gone. The movies you watched are just rolled credits. 
“I think I have Monopoly in the closet. We also have the switch that we can play on.” You rack your brain trying to think of what games that you have. “OOO! We can play just dance.” Rafe groans at the thought of the game. All throughout middle school you were obsessed.
Everyday you would go home from school, do your homework and play for hours. It was a great way of letting out energy while also giving you a workout. Your love for the game was then forced onto Rafe. You made him go home with you one day after school and play. Rafe has always been athletic, even as a child he loved sports. But that game took something out of him.
Every move was always red, never getting the motion correctly. Don’t get him started on the burn he would feel the day after. All the jumping around and the squating tore his muscles til they were strands. He hated that damn game but for some reason he would go back to your house the following day to do it over again. Now even thinking about the game hurts him.
“I would rather get back together with Christine then play that game.” He’s being over dramatic. The game isn’t even that bad. To say he would rather get back with the ex that stole from him, tried to sleep with his dad, and reported him to the cops is crazy. The stare you are giving him tells him you aren’t convinced. “Okay I wouldn’t but seriously I am not playing that death game.” Typical Rafe, drama queen. “Fine then what do you want to play? We can just put on another movie if you’re that bored.”
You took the bait without even thinking too much about it. “Why don’t we play truth or dare?” He suggests. His eyes are staring at the phone in his hands but he keeps an eye on you. Watching the perplexed look you give him. “Truth or dare? What are we twelve?” Teasing him will never get old. He just has a habit of saying the dumbest or weirdest things when he’s comfortable around people. Teasing him is a part of the friendship.
Rafe throws his phone on your bed as he moves around to look at you better. “Weren’t you watching that dumb kids tv show the other day? Gluey or something.” “Bluey.” You correct him. “That doesn’t matter. It’s good for your brain to help relax, you clearly need it.” Your foot nudges his thigh as you poke fun at him. He catches it and yanks you closer to him, your legs resting on his lap now.
You get a little more comfortable, fluffing the pillow behind you as you lay back. “It does matter. You watch something made for toddlers but you can’t play truth or dare. Come on indulge me.” He whines, his hand squeezing your calf. The feeling of his hands on you is not something new. You are one of the only people that he is comfortable enough to physically touch. The only thing is that sometimes the touch lingers, filling you with a fluttering feeling. 
Clearing your throat to distract from your emotions, you answer. “Fine. Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” You giggle as you think of something. “I dare you to try on one of my dresses.” His face drops and your giggles become full laughs. “Fuck you. I’m not doing that shit, think of something else.” His nails graze along your skin, reaching your knee then going down. “Nope, gotta follow the rules.” You know he would never put on a dress in his life. You also know that he has a hard time saying no to you. 
This is more of a test to see how far he would really go. “Too fucking bad. I’m not going to wear one of your dresses.” You pull your legs back to your body. Rafe tries to stop you from leaving but you had already turned away from him. “Baby come back.” There it is. That little moment he gives you butterflies. He’s been calling you that recently.
Baby
Like some freudian slip, a moment where he truly reveals how he feels. You ignore him as you open your closet grabbing a crop top instead. A dress was a long shot but you could pull this off. You walk back over to the bed, shirt in hand as you climb up. “What are you doing?” He’s watching as you crawl over to him. He can’t help but to have to adjust his pants. The action doesn’t go unnoticed.
“If you put the shirt on I’ll be happy. Then we can continue.” Rafe stares at the shirt then you. “Plus guys in crop tops are kinda hot.” You shrug your shoulders, looking down at the fabric and playing with it. Fanning innocence in your words to hide your true intentions. His eyes perk up hearing you say that. “You think guys look hot in that?”
His voice somehow got a little lower. You are itching to squeeze your thighs to sedate the ache you feel. But you won’t let him see that this is affecting you. It’s harder for him to hide and your eyes keep glancing down to get a peak. “Yeah. I like when you can see how tight the shirt is over their muscles.” Your eyes follow along his chest, imagine the shirt clinging to life on his chest. Your fingers are dying to touch him.
“Give me the damn shirt.” Rafe rips his shirt off, taking yours and puts it on. You mindlessly stare at him. You were right, the shirt is clinging to him. His muscles are stretching it out but his biceps are the main show. They are bulging out, the fabric barely holding together. He could choke you with his arms and you would be happy.
“Happy?” Your eyes flicker up to his. “Very.” Rafe shifts back to relax, his arm resting by your folded legs. His fingers extend out to brush against your exposed skin. “Truth or dare?” You think about it and take a long pause. “Truth.” His eyes squint at you, expressing his irritation that you took the easy way out. “Why did you and Evan break up?” 
He knows why you two broke up, it was him. Evan made it known he never liked rafe and your friendship with him. It definitely didn’t help when Rafe and him got into a fight. Rafe may have implied that you would leave him in an instant if he asked you to. That really set him off and escalated from there. The next day you told Rafe that you and Evan had broken up. He was relieved to know he had once again chased off another guy.
“We had a huge fight after the party. He accused me of sleeping with you and wouldn’t stop yelling. In the end he told me I had to choose, you or him. I chose you.” His hand sandwich between your calf and thigh. Tightening as his mind processes what you said. “Why?” “That’s not the game. My turn.” He tries to protest and you won’t let him. You can’t admit that a part of you does want him. Evan was right to be concerned, not that you would cheat but that you have feelings for Rafe.
“Dare.” You wish you had fought harder to not play this game. You suck at coming out with things to say. “Are you always going to say dare?” “Yes.” You huf a bit. “I dare you to take a thirst trap photo and send it to the group chat.” He groans, already picturing the texts he’s about to get. Reluctantly he gets up positioning himself in front of your full length mirror. He takes the picture and sends it to the chat.
Automatically Top and Kelce start blowing up the group chat. He ignores them and walks back over. “Truth or dare.” You don’t even think. “Dare.” He crawls on the bed like you did earlier, forcing you to lay back. His body is hovering above you, hand playing with the hair that frames your face. “I dare you to show me what you got earlier at Victoria Secret.” He saw the package when he got through the door. His curiosity was eating at him. Smirking, you run your hand around his chest, teasing where the shirt ends only to push him off you.
You grab the box that was sitting on your dresser and open it up. Slowly you take off your sleep shorts and shirt. Your fingers wrap around the thin piece of fabric you call underwear. Pulling them down inch by inch teasing him further by throwing them at him. You don’t know where your confidence came from. Before today you would never strip naked in front of Rafe, you just can’t help yourself.
You take out a red lace teddy, the lace only covers part of your sides and your breasts. It was held together by thin straps, leaving your front fully exposed. Rafe’s hand starts to palm himself over his sweatpants, the pain in his dick becoming unbearable. “Fuck you look good.” You giggle and give him a twirl shaking your ass in the process. “Yeah? You like it, pretty boy.”  Your hands are roaming your body, pausing to play with your breast.
Rafe can’t help but stare. “Come here.” You do without question, not wanting to let go of the game you ask him again. “Truth or dare.” Rafe reaches for your sides as soon as you get close. Playing with the lace between his fingers. “Can we both just stick to dare? It’s more fun that way.” Smiling you lean in, closing the gap slightly. “I dare you to take off your pants.” Like a good boy he does.
His boxer does nothing to hide the impressive dick he has. Your mouth water just thinking about it. Without really thinking your hand lands on his thigh, making its way up and retracting as soon as you get close to his dick. “Don’t be shy, baby. You can touch me.” Your eyes look at him through your eyelashes. He could probably cum just from watching you. Bingo
“I dare you to touch yourself.” A gasp leaves your lips at his dare. You know what he means, he wants you to pleasure yourself in front of him. But instead of listening you start to touch your thighs, then arms, and chest. “You know what I meant. Don’t you go start being a brat right now.” Giggling you move his thighs, slotting yourself in between them. Leaning back you expose yourself to him. The open crotch leaves you fully bare to him.
“Fuck.” He grunts as your fingers play with your clit, collecting the wetness by your entrance to help your movements. You almost get lost in the feeling, forgetting about the game, almost. “I dare you to take those boxers off and show me how you take care of yourself.” Rafe’s dick twitches when the cool air of your room hits him. His hand rapidly wrapping around himself and tugging. 
The two of you kinda stay there in a lull. Both of you watch the other as they play with themselves, waiting the other out till they crack. Rafe had envisioned this differently, he thought he would be the one having you begging for him. Now he doesn’t even know if he can go another minute without touching you. Without feeling you stretch out on him. He knows this is only going to torture himself more but he can’t help it. “I dare you to come sit on my lap.”
You may have been confident before but this is going further then you thought. Before you can psych yourself out you do it. Throwing your legs over his, your folds parting as you sit down on him, his dick laying perfectly on your pussy. His hands find your hips as your arms wrap his neck. Holding each other and staring into each other’s eyes. “Like this?” Your voice convey’s innocence, so do your eyes. Melting him even further into your spell. “Just like that baby.” 
His hands start to rock you back and forth, his dick sliding between your folds. The tip brushing against your clit. You let out a moan from the feeling, grinding harder to please him too. Your efforts were rewarded with a chocked moan leaving his perfect lips. Wanting to test how far he’s willing to go, your head leans forward. He's moving in trying to taste your lips, only stopping when he sees that you did. “I dare you to kiss me.” The words whispered on his lips.
Rafe brings a hand up to the back of your neck, dragging you in for a kiss. His lips devour yours as if you were his last meal. With the way that your soaking cunt is drenching him, it might actually be. He feels like he’s in heaven right now, he never wants this feeling to stop. But he knows it could be better. “I dare you to put it in.” Your hips stop, lips following along. There’s saliva connecting your lips as you detach yourself. You look apprehensive, not really sure if you want to ruin the friendship. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Your fingers graze his scalp, missing when he had hair. The feeling of it weaving through your fingers can be felt lightly. “I miss your hair.” Rafe grins at you, pecking your lips. “I’ll grow it out again if you sit on my dick.” You clench around nothing, itching to feel him inside you. “Plus we’re best friends. We should be able to do everything together.” He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your check, thumb grazing your bottom lip. Blue eyes following the movement, flickering up to catch yours.
In your mind you know he’s trying to manipulate you with the best friend card. The truth is you don’t care, you would have pulled the same trick. Rafe isn’t the only one desperate to have him in me. “Okay. Promise this won’t change anything.” you lift your pinky up to him, he latches his to yours. “Promise, Just…just sit on it. That’s all you have to do.” He needs you now, he’ll say or do anything to get it. You lift yourself a little, getting a hold of him to line him up to your entrance.
Slowly you tease your hole with his tip. Slightly putting it in and then going up to then swirl his head around. Rafe is getting frustrated, groans of displeasure leaving his mouth. “Please.” He whines out, hands death gripping your hips. You lightly tap his cheek so he can open his eyes. With a smile you sink down, moaning at the feeling of his big dick stretching you. When you bottom out you lean your forehead on his. Hips flushed to one another.
Your eyes are locked in, watching as you both stew in the pleasure of feeling each other. Your walls are fluttering around him so nicely. He doesn’t know how much of this he could handle. Honestly he’s glad he suggested you cockwarm him. If he was fucking you right now he would have already finished. You are so tight and warm he wouldn’t have lasted a minute. Plus it gives you a chance to get used to him, he doesn’t plan on being gentle next him. His hands explore your back, nails raking down and slapping your ass. You let out a loud moan, your walls contract making him let one out as well. 
The minutes pass by as you two explore each other. Sharing kisses on lips or exposed skin, hands touching every inch they can reach. You can feel him throbbing inside you, pulsating every few seconds. Pulling away, your hands lay flat on his chest to keep him still. “I dare you to touch me.” Tilting your head you mock him. “Let’s see if you can make me cum.” A hand flies to your clit rubbing calculated circles, the other gripping your neck. “Dangerous game you’re playing there, baby.”
Rafe’s back to attacking your lips, moving his assault to your jaw nipping at the skin. His fingers move faster on your clit, hurdling you closer to your orgasim. “Tighter.” You plead, your own hand laying over his to get what you want. He tightens his hold, chuckling at your open mouth expression. “Fucking dirty girl. Here I thought you were my little angel, turns out you're a little devil.” Words don't seem to be forming in your brain.
Everything is blank, the only thing in your head is forcing you to focus on how good his fingers feel. How every twitch of his dick brushes your g-spot only adding to your pleasure. He can feel how close you are, your walls are strangling him. Ironic since it's the same thing he’s doing to you. The fuzziness of your mind snaps the band in your stomach, all the stimulation too much for you to handle. “Rafe please.” Your moans mix with his, they echo in your room bouncing off the walls. 
Rafe continues his motions to help you ride out your orgasim. His hands give up once you relax again. He’s on the verge of cumming, mustering up all his strength he holds back. You sense his hands on your hips ready to pull you up. You slap his hands away, cementing yourself to his lap. He gives you a panic look, knowing he won’t be able to hold off for long. “I dare you to cum in me. We should be able to do everything together right?” The moan he let out was pornographic at best. His body is shaking from how intense his orgasim is.
You moan as you watch him enjoying the view of his face and the feeling of him filling you up. He pulls you to his chest, keeping you close as he comes down. This is better than any drug he has ever taken. Slowly and carefully he moves you around, laying you on your back and pulling out. He stares at his dripping cum slides out of you. “God baby you’re amazing.” He kisses your stomach, chest, chin, then lips.
He holds you there, lips molding with yours. He gets up after a minute, getting a wet rag to clean you up. You lay in bed motionless when Rafe comes back after disposing of the dirty rag. “That was fucking amazing.” You say to your ceiling. Laughing, he lays down next to you. You look at him with a smile. “If you think that was good just wait till I actually fuck you.”
459 notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 19 hours
Text
so high school | max verstappen x fem! singer! reader
summary; in which max feels like a sixteen year old in high school whenever he’s around y/n
word count; 976
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi
note; requested ! i dont listen to taylor swift so im not familiar w this song, but i hope this is good enough!😫 n so sorry this took a bit longer than usual, a lot of things happened in my life rn + i’ve had major writers block 🙁
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
i just want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you
Max stood at the podium with a proud smile on his face. Another race won another race closer to being the world champion. The sound of his nation’s national anthem filled his ears as his hands found their way through his blonde locks.
His bright eyes scanned the crowd searching for her.
The start of the season was always a grand event. Drivers often brought their girlfriends along with them to enjoy a sunny Bahrain and the beginning of the season. When the first race of the season came around, Max couldn’t help but ask his girlfriend of just a few months and a world-famous singer to accompany him.
He thought it was a good idea. He really did.
However, the second his eyes landed on her wide smile from the top of the podium, he felt his heart skip a beat. She stared at him with so much love in her eyes that he became flustered. His cheeks began burning up and he secretly hoped and prayed that others would think his rosy cheeks were from the bright sun.
He had to hold back a laugh, a giggle even. Max Verstappen, The Max Verstappen, giggling and blushing over a girl that was already his? It was unheard of. He knew if he kept staring his cheeks would be too red to be just from the sun.
As quickly as his eyes found her, he looked away and instead focused on calming down his heart rate.
i’ll drink what you think and i’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night
Max was always the type to drink his coffee black. No cream. No sugar. That changed the moment he started dating Y/n and learned about her addiction to a milky and very sweet iced vanilla latte.
She claimed it helped her and her melodic voice that he adored so much.
It was another late-night session in the studio and the Dutch driver had brought over two iced vanilla lattes, one with just a little less sugar than the other.
He honestly hated the sugary milky beverage. He could barely stand a sip but he refused to tell Y/n that. He only drinks the vanilla iced lattes because he loved to see her face light up whenever he’d give her the rest of his drink because he ‘didn’t want to finish it’.
“Here, have the rest of mine. I don’t want it.” Max said with a chuckle as he noticed her pout after she finished her own.
“Are you sure, Maxie?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Here.”
Y/n laughed and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a pink lipgloss mark. Max couldn’t help but laugh with her as she happily took his drink.
She sat down across from him on the couch in the studio. She began to tell him a story about something that happened to her and Lando days prior. He honestly wasn’t focusing much on the story. His focus was 100% on the smile on her face and the laughs she’d let out every other sentence.
If her laugh was a drug, he’d sure be high every second of the day. Hearing her laugh was an addiction to him. He adored it and if forcing himself to drink a sugary ice vanilla latte to accompany her during studio sessions just to hear her laugh, he’d do it without a problem.
the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet sixteen suddenly.
Y/n let out a yawn as she walked down the halls of her and Max’s shared home. She needed a break from writing songs. Her mind was blank and she couldn’t think. The iced vanilla lattes weren’t helping her creativity flow and neither Jimmy nor Sassy helped.
She was walking towards Max’s gaming room where she knew he’d be on the simulator. She suddenly heard him say her name and she stopped right outside the slightly open door.
“No, yeah, Y/n and I are great. It’s just-“
“Just, what?” She recognized Charles's voice and his laugh.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Tell me! I won’t tell a soul.”
“No, it’s stupid.”
“C’mon, Max.”
Y/n furrowed up her eyebrows as her heart rate began to pick up. She immediately assumed the worst. Did Max cheat on her? Did he no longer want to be in a relationship with her? Did she annoy him?
She bit her nails as she anxiously waited for his response.
Max sighed, running his hands through his blonde locks. “It’s just that I feel like I’m a teenage boy in high school around her. She makes me flustered, like actually flustered. It’s like I’m sixteen again!”
Y/n almost let out a sigh of relief from his words, but kept quiet as she knew that he would hear her. She quietly yet quickly walks away. She finds herself back in the living room with her notebook in hand. She began scribbling across the page, finally getting the creativity she needed to write the last song for her album.
She hums in satisfaction as she finishes off the song. ‘So High School’ she had scribbled at the top of the page. Right as if it were on queue, she hears Max’s voice.
“Any luck with songwriting?” The Dutch driver curiously asks, sitting beside her on the couch.
“In fact, I’ve had plenty of luck.”
“Let me see.” He mumbled, his hand reaching towards the book.
“No!”
“C’mon, schat! Let me see!”
Y/n quickly kissed his cheek in an attempt to distract him. Fortunately for her, it did. His cheeks began to turn a rosy shade of pink. He rolled his eyes, moving his attention from the notebook to Sassy who found her way to the couch.
She had to hold back a laugh as she noticed his ears also turning pink. He really was like a 16-year-old in high school.
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nathaslosthershit · 3 days
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Media Interrogation [Part 2] (LN4)
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(Read part 1 here!)
Summary: He had prayed the media would leave his newfound ‘friend’ out of their questions, only focusing on the race. But Lando Norris would soon see he wasn't so lucky.  A/N: I don't know how Twitch works so excuse the poorly explained streaming things.
A little less than two weeks after Lando had met his new neighbor, they had spent any time they could together, and any time they couldn’t they were texting and calling. It was exciting, they weren’t dating per se, still trying to get to know each other before they jumped into anything, but this newfound friendship had been great for both of them. Slowly, Lando had been introducing her to some of his friends, and with all the new faces, she didn’t feel half as lonely as she used to. 
It was wonderful.
He had warned her about the stream, leaving the details of him turning bright red, giggling, and Max admitting that Lando had called her his “cute neighbor” out. But, of course, after she spent far to long going through the #landonorris tag on various social media sites, she had found a clip of the interaction. Seeing how giddy he was about it, even after meeting her for only a minute, made her giddy as well, happy to know that it seems her feelings weren’t one sided.
He had invited her to the race, being as it was at Silverstone, but the thought of going there and meeting new people and being seen by the media so soon after her and Lando just met made her nervous, so she politely declined. 
Although he was a bit upset, he understood her reasoning. 
Before the race, Lando was with Oscar giving various interviews, with mostly race related questions. ‘How was the car feeling?’, ‘you think you guys can give Max a run for his money this weekend?’, etc. It was easy and he wasn’t worried about intrusive questions.
Until they opened it up to the fans.
When they said they’d take fan questions, Lando began to sweat. Beside him, Oscar let out a laugh, knowing what the first question was bound to be.
“Lando, it seems you made friends with you “cute neighbor” while streaming, have you guys talked more?” one of the fans asked.
Shit.
He probably should have warned her this would happen but, maybe it was wishful thinking, he hadn’t expected to be asked about it. And maybe his cute neighbor wasn’t even watching. 
“Uhhh” he said as he let out an awkward laugh, “Yeah, we have talked a bit more. The cookies were really good so I’ve been trying to get the recipe.” Lies, he hadn’t asked for the recipe, he just wanted her to make the cookies for him again.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Another fan yelled out.
There was a beat of silence from Lando, causing fans to laugh at his awkwardness around the situation. Oscar, now feeling bad for his teammate, jumped in.
“He shared some of the cookies with me too. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were really good. Might have to ask her to make me a batch.” Oscar jokes. 
Seeing as he wasn’t going to answer the girlfriend question, which wasn’t even a proper question as the fan just yelled it out instead of waiting to be picked, the interviewer moved on. 
He really hoped she wasn’t watching this.
She was totally watching this and enjoying every second.
It felt nice to see Lando blushing so profusely at the mention of her, which made her feel better for also blushing profusely when he talked about her.
Since she saw the stream, she had noticed he definitely had a bit of a crush on her, but she didn’t know how deep it went. If it was a tiny crush that was bound to fade as they became closer, or if this closeness was going to lead to an even bigger crush. Only a few weeks into their friendship though, and she had already fallen fast and hard.
She couldn’t do anything. She'd never do anything, even though she so badly wanted to. All her new friends were Lando’s, if he wasn’t as serious as she hoped about his feelings, it would crush her. She wouldn’t be able to stay friends with him and in turn would lose all the new friends she had made. 
So she vowed to not make the first move.
Eventually, three months had gone by and the pair only became more inseparable. Instead of planning mini vacations and trips between races, Lando always tried to get home so he could see his favorite neighbor, who he now knew he had massive feelings for.
She had started work and it was going great! Her worries about being alone if she lost Lando went away as she made more non-Norris-acquired friends. 
The two had also graduated to an even deeper level of intimacy. They weren’t sleeping together, or straight up kissing. But holding hands, cuddling, kisses on the cheek or forehead, were all normal for the pair. Sure it seemed so childish to dance around their feelings at their grown age but it's all they could do for now.
Baking had become a new hobby as well. Before moving, she couldn’t really say she was much of a baker, only doing it when it came to birthdays or bake sales. But with Lando becoming increasingly more obsessed with her cookies, she had started to branch out with other flavors, even throwing in muffins or a pie. 
She had just finished a new recipe her mom sent her, which were divine, when she knocked on Lando’s door, flashbacks to the first time they met those few months ago going through her head.
Lando, also like those few months ago, had been streaming when he got a knock on his door. Smiling to himself as he already knew who it would be, which the fans most certainly caught, he quickly excused himself to go open it. When he saw her there, he immediately pulled her into a hug.
“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled into her neck.
“You saw me yesterday.” She laughed, happy to know he missed her as much as she did him.
“Can’t blame me for wanting to see my favorite girl all the time.” He replied.
“Favorite girl, huh? It's an honor. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a title.” She teased.
“Your cookies, of course!” He said as he pulled back, when she shot him a look, he continued, “and your wonderful personality, and how great of company you are.”
“That's more like it. Speaking of, I tried a new recipe and, not to toot my own horn, these are the best yet.” She said as she grabbed the container of cookies from her bag.
“Yes! Thank goodness I was beginning to experience withdrawal. I am streaming right now, they are always asking about you since the- anyway, could I do a taste test? You can join me, I think the chat would love it. I would love it. But you don’t have to if-” He began to ramble, clearly feeling awkward at almost admitting just how much she is brought up on his streams.
“No, that sounds great! I definitely join.” She immediately regretted the words the moment they left her mouth but the look on Lando’s face stopped her from taking it back. He has lit up in a way she hadn’t seen and all she wanted to do was forever make him light up that way.
He quickly pulled her to his streaming room, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling her onto the screen. “I’ve returned with cookies, oh and of course a special guest. Guys, please don’t be weird. Be normal or I'll end the stream.” He joked, but also prayed that his fans would for once listen and try not to embarrass him for their own entertainment. He knew they wouldn’t listen though.
Immediately after saying that, someone donated and got their message read out loud,
‘Are you the cute girl that gave him cookies?’
“Uh I don’t know. That depends. How many cute girls give you cookies, Lan?” She teased.
“Oh hundreds, I am constantly drowning in sweet baked goods. My trainer hates me now.” He teased back.
“Then I guess I should take these back, don’t want to make your trainer even more mad.”
“Over my dead body. Seriously, you’d have to pry these out of my cold dead hands. Anyway, this is a taste test of a new recipe, as was explained to me ‘it's the best yet’. You guys can’t eat them obviously so I’ll try to be descriptive.” 
After one bite, Lando started moaning in a way that was uncomfortable for everyone except him. Her face had never felt hotter at the sounds he was making and she was far too scared to check to see if her face was as red as it felt.
Do you hear him make those noises a lot?
“Alright! I told you if you guys made it weird I’d end it, so you lost your privileges. Goodbye everyone, think about what you did.” Lando was kidding, his fans knew it, but it was a pretty crazy question to ask. Not that the chat cared.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting all that.” She said once he turned off the stream.
“I know, I’m sorry they get like that.” He replied, feeling bad that he hadn’t explained well enough what she should expect. 
“No, I thought they would be worse to be honest, I meant the moans you were making from my cookies.” “Oh come on they weren’t that crazy, and the cookie was amazing, I had to.”
“Lando, those noises were nothing short of erotic, I was worried how far you were going to go if you had another bite.” She teased.
They both laughed and after a few seconds, a beat of silence fell over them. As they looked into each other’s eyes, the energy in the room shifted. Finally, Lando spoke up.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked.
“Please,” She replied.
Explosions, fireworks, sparks, whatever you want to call it, they felt it. It was so cheesy but it was so electric, they couldn’t help but feel like they did in the movies.
After a much needed breather, before going in for more, Lando asked, “Let me take you out, properly, please? Like an actual date.”
“Only if it's not a seafood place, I’m allergic to fish.” 
“Good God, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”
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saintobio · 6 hours
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blank canvas: the epilogue.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache
notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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TWO YEARS LATER
Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 
Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.
So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.
The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.
But one person was conspicuously absent. 
It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.
As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”
Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”
“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 
Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 
“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 
You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.
For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.
As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.
“Nii-san!”
“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 
Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Sukuna.
He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.
It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 
“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 
Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 
“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 
You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.
It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.
When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 
As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 
Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 
You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 
You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?
Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 
Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.
“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 
“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.
There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”
He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 
“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”
You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” 
“Mhmm.” 
The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.
“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 
Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 
— —
You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 
Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.
“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 
You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 
“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 
The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 
You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”
You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”
Oh.
Of course. 
What did you expect?
His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.
But it was all too late. 
He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”
Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.
“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”
You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.
He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.
But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 
“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”
“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 
Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”
You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”
You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”
As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.
While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 
That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.
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steveseddie · 1 day
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hot stuff
@steddiemicrofic prompt: stuff, 483 words rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, he blurts it out while helping eddie pack to move to his new trailer
***
Steve shoves another DnD handbook into one of the boxes scattered around Eddie’s room. “Dude, why do you have so much stuff?”
Across the room, Eddie snorts. “Excuse me for wanting my bedroom to have some personality, Mr. Plaid-Wallpaper.”
Steve rolls his eyes, putting away some sketchbooks next. His eyes catch something else on Eddie’s desk. “This doesn’t match your personality. You hate sports,” Steve bitches, one hand on his hip, the other holding the basketball.
“Oh, that’s not mine.” Eddie smirks. “I stole it from some jocks.��
“You stole- a basketball?”
The smirk turns into a grin. “Assholes thought it’d be funny to hit the freak, so when they did, I grabbed it and ran like hell.”
A startled laugh leaves Steve’s lips when he pictures Eddie fleeing with a basketball in his arms, flipping off the assholes that he stole it from.
Then he frowns.
“I wasn’t one of them, right?” He doesn’t remember it, but he tries not to think about that time too much.
Eddie’s eyes soften. “No, Stevie. You were never a dick to me, we never really crossed paths.”
“I wish we had,” Steve says. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Since meeting Eddie, he often wishes it happened sooner.
“You really think we would’ve been friends? The King and the Freak?”
“We’re friends now,” Steve shrugs.
“After a damn apocalypse! Besides, you’re different now. King Steve wouldn’t be caught dead with me. I was a loser.”
Steve sniggers. “Was?”
“Fuck you,” Eddie squawks, throwing some socks at Steve’s head- and missing.
Steve throws them back, hitting him on the forehead. “You’re supposed to be packing those!”
Eddie sticks his tongue out. “What I meant is- I looked like a loser.”
Steve thinks of the photo he packed earlier while helping pack Wayne’s things- the one of Eddie with a buzz cut, drowning in Wayne’s hand-me-downs, no tattoos or rings. So different from the guy in front of him.
“Now though, I look cool,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows.
“Nah, man. Now you look hot,” Steve blurts out.
He panics when Eddie’s jaw drops and he gapes at Steve, but he doesn’t look upset, just shocked- and a little hopeful.
The door opens then and Robin pops her head in, glaring at the empty boxes. “You dinguses aren’t done yet? We finished packing all of Wayne’s mugs and there’s dozens of them! I’m getting Nance!” She huffs and leaves.
Steve grimaces. “We should get to work before Nancy comes. But, um, wanna ditch the girls after and hang out?”
When Eddie shakes his head, Steve backtracks. “Unless you don’t want-”
Eddie shakes his head even harder at that. “Like fuck if I don’t.” He grins. “Get to work, big boy, then you can tell me how hot you find me and we can kiss about it.”
They finish packing everything in record time after that.
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eddiesxangel · 2 days
Note
Your requests are open aaah 💕 OKAY this scenario for Eddie has been on my mind for a while - imagine hooking up with him (could either be a fuckboy or not) and you're worried you might turn him off when you're riding him because you easily get tired (and in past relationships you'd get criticized for it too because those jerks expected you to do all the work).
in the middle of it eddie can sense something wrong and at first you're hesitant to tell him then you eventually give in, scared he'll stop but Eddie just smiles and sweet and just says "well why didn't you say so sweetheart? hold on" and then suddenly he's wrapping his arms around your waist and thrust up into you like an animal and you get overwhelmed with pleasure and Eddie loves the little whimpers / sounds you're making as you bury your face into his neck 😏✨
-@/daisymunson (because sadly it's not my main huhu)
Sorry this took so long
Your chest was heaving as your poor legs have been working tirelessly to bounce on Eddie’s cock.
“Fuck baby, you like that don’t you, fucking so good” Eddie moaned “I’m going to call you my little bunny. Love hoping on my cock.”
He loved that you took charge that so far every time you’ve fucked, which was only three, you were on top. He could watch your tits bounce for him as your rode him, how your fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. How you would lean down into him to kiss which only made him slip in deeper.
You wanted to enjoy yourself, you loved the feeling of his cock brushing up against your inner walls but, god you were so tired.
The pain in your thighs was more intense than the feeling of Eddie inside of you. The only thing you could focus on was the burning in your thighs, you were worried you would cramp up if you kept going so you slowed down.
“What’s wrong? Are you not into this?” Eddie could see you were off in another world. You hadn’t been making as much eye contact, your face was scrunching up like you were in pain.
“No ,I am… it’s just” you trailed off with heavy breaths as you paused.
“Tell me” he squeezed the sides of your hips, only making your pussy clench down on him.
“My legs are tired…” you let out an embarrassed laugh.
“Baby why didn’t you say something?”
“I thought you’d be turned off if I made you do all that work…”
“Why the hell would I be turned off by that?” He guides your chin with a single finger to look at him.
Your eyes looked down as your face turned hot. The other men you’d been with expected you to be in top, so what would make Eddie any different?
“Because everyone else has…”
“Everyone else— who? what?" Eddie stumbled over his words. He was dumbfounded. "so you never had someone on top of you?!" he needed to clarify.
you shamefully shake your head no and eddie moves into action at lightning speed, flipping you on your back unexpectedly.
"now baby, you just lay there and look pretty. Let me do all of the work."
His hard cock re-enters you and at this angle he is so deep inside you let out a cry of pleasure.
Eddie's hips rut into you at a speed at which you could never gain while you were on top. The sensation was so overwhelming you lost yourself in the moment.
Your soft mewls quickly turned into long outwards moans of pleasure.
Eddie’s never see you so fucked out there was no way you were getting on top in a while if this is how he could make you feel.
His big hands were pressed to the backs of your plush thighs, pushing them as wide as you’re let them.
“Fuck you’re taking my cock so good baby, sucking me in so good it’s hard to pull out.” His eyes focused on the place where you connected. He loved seeing the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock with each thrust into you.
You were lost in the feeling, overpowered by what Eddie was able to give you. Was this the kind of sex you’re been missing out on? Being taken care of your partner. Yes it was.
Your body started to tighten as the impending orgasm was to wash over you. You felt light headed and the only thing you could focus on was how Eddie’s cock pounding inside your pussy. Your hands grabbed his back and your legs wrapped around him like a koala bear, pulling him closer and closer. You never wanted to disconnect your bodies after this.
“Eddie!” You screamed as your pussy clamped down on his cock and a rush of pleasure flowed through your body.
“Yea that’s it, fucking cum on my cock” his hips never slowed, the room was filled with the wet snaking sound of skin on skin. The room smelled of sex and sweat. Your haze never lifted until Eddie’s hips sputtered as he came.
You broke the minutes of silence of catching your breath.
“I didn’t know it could be like that”
“There are so many more positions I want you in baby we are just getting started.
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