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chelseeebe · 22 days

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bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie’s munson one shot

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toxicanonymity · 7 months

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stuffing.

5.7k words, Joel x f!reader x Tommy | sequel here! A/N: ONE SHOT. I had to get this out of my system after that one Uncle Tommy line I wrote in september lol. Shoutouts to: @bonezone44 for being an Uncle Tommy stan, @walkintotheriveranddisappear for running the center for dvp excellence, and everyone who's been supportive. 🖤 Fic recs at the bottom. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap, darkish miller bros, dubcon (coaxing/pressure, you aren't sure what Joel allows), use of "daddy," sharing, unsafe p in v (individually and together), oral, jacking off, creampies, cucking, MFM, DP (double vag), light degradation, praise, pet names, foot massage. AU where you don't overthink this fic. You’re happy with Joel, but it’s not a healthy relationship with clear communication and boundaries. Joel carries reader. TW: incidental incest via MFM/DVP - If this isn't for you, please quietly move along.

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

Joel squats down with one hand on the back of your chair. He admires your face then cups your cheek. “Gotta do somethin’, baby. Won’t be back tonight.” The casual announcement makes your heart race. He kisses you on the forehead, then stands up.

“What do you mean you won’t be back tonight?”

“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Tommy’s gonna stay with ya.”

Your face gets hot. Tommy tilts his head down and smiles at you from across the breakfast table. He raises his glass of juice in acknowledgement, but you don’t look at him. You look squarely at Joel, caught off guard by his plans.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Just lemme come with you.”

“Ain’t that kinda trip, darlin’.”

“Why can’t he do it?”

Tommy laughs silently and his voice goes up an octave. “What’sa matter, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hang out?” He tilts his head and smiles, then his normal voice returns. “That’s okay.” There's a glimmer in his eye.

Joel grabs his jacket and kisses you goodbye, then says, “Don’t have too much fun without me,” and winks at Tommy. Then Joel's gone, just like that. Your tummy feels nervous as his truck starts, then drives away.

It's Thanksgiving week. You have a lot to be thankful for. Joel loves you and takes good care of you. You have solar power and a nice farm with a secure perimeter. Tommy is visiting for the holiday. You met Tommy in passing long ago, but his girl at the time was with him, and that was before you were Joel’s. You were just the girl down the street. This week is the first time you've really spent time together.

Joel would kill any other man for touching you, but apparently he's different about Tommy. You're still figuring out how that works. Joel doesn't seem to mind what Tommy sees–or feels–when the three of you are together. But what about when you're alone?

Does Joel know Tommy walked by the bedroom window and saw you undressing? Does he know Tommy came to apologize for that when you were fresh out of the shower, and saw you in a towel? Or that he looked you up and down, asked if Joel was treating you right, then gave a low whistle and adjusted himself before he left? Or that you touched yourself almost as soon as he closed the door?

*******

Last night, Joel put you in Tommy's lap in the armchair to give you a foot massage, and you tried not to react when Tommy got hard. “It's ok,” Tommy whispered with his hands on your hips. He pulled you back against his hard bulge with a soft grunt and it gave you a shock of desire.

“It's ok, darlin,” Joel echoed, kneeling at your feet. Joel placed your heel on his own hardening package as he worked on the ball of your foot.

Tommy's hand cupped your breast and you tensed.

Joel glanced up. “Relax, baby. It's just Uncle Tommy.”

“It's ok,” Tommy whispered again into your hair as his other hand crept up your thigh, higher and higher, until his thumb grazed your panties. Joel continued massaging you, unbothered, then switched to the other foot.

Tommy's thick fingers glided over your panties and you twitched as he felt the dampness. He lifted his hips with a soft grunt, then cleared his throat. “gonna take care of your girl tonight, Joel? She's drippin’ like a faucet.” Your cheeks burned, and Tommy ran his hand down your thigh.

Joel smiled with half his mouth as he glanced up. “makin’ a mess already?” Joel shook his head. “Close your legs, darlin'.”

Your stomach dropped and you stammered, “sorry, uh . . .”

But as soon as you closed your legs, Tommy lifted your dress up, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps. Joel’s face gave away nothing as he looked past you at Tommy. For a moment, you thought Tommy had gone too far. Then Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and Tommy held you back against his chest as Joel slid them off. Joel spread your knees, and Tommy's, and knelt between them, closer.

With his armpits resting over your thighs, Joel looked at your cunt hungrily and spread you open with his thumbs. You tilted your hips for him, feeling yourself gush. “Good girl,” he murmured, then planted his right forearm on your lower belly. With his right fingers pointing down, he ran them through your dripping folds, then drew in a deep breath through his nose before bringing his mouth between your legs.

Joel lapped at your weeping hole and sucked your clit. He fingered you and made out with your cunt like it was just another night, like he was getting ready to fuck you. Meanwhile, Tommy lightly grinded into your ass, breathing warm and wet into your hair and holding you gently in his strong arms as Joel devoured your pussy. Tommy rocked you gently on his lap, rocking you into Joel’s mouth. Joel ate you out at the same rhythm. When you came, Tommy’s arousal pressed harder against you and he grabbed your breast. He cooed, “good girl.”

Joel didn't seem to mind, and it felt really good, but you got self conscious after you finished. Tommy caressed your arm as Joel wiped his mouth off. “I'm sleepy, daddy,” you looked at him with big eyes.

Joel looked at you fondly, squeezed your thigh, and said, “I know, darlin’. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight.” You turned around and kissed him on the cheek, then mumbled “goodnight” without meeting his eyes.

—

Joel scooped you up in his arms. You went to bed with Joel and only Joel. As soon as he laid you down, you asked, “you're not mad about Tommy touching me?”

“Felt good, didn't it?”

You gave a small nod.

“Nice havin’ four hands.” Joel raised his eyebrows and left it at that.

You eyed the protrusion in his jeans. “I'm comin’, baby,” he reassured you as he unzipped them. He pulled his jeans and boxers down together and his massive erection sprang free. He prowled across the bed, settled between your legs, and you raised your knees, tilting your hips for him. “Good girl,” he whispered as he got himself into place.

“God damn, even wetter now,” he muttered as he gathered your slick on his fingers and wiped it on his stiff cock. His tip prodded your dripping hole, then he pushed inside with a sigh, making you moan as he split you open. Joel bottomed out, and the sound that came out of his chest was somewhere between a grunt and a groan, “Uungghh.” You whimpered in pleasure. Then, through the thin wall, you heard Tommy cum with a deep moan. Joel chuckled, then bowed his head and kissed you, pausing all the way inside.

Joel kissed you softly as he buried his length in you, and your lips broke away only to whimper, “Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he whispered into the pillow, right by your ear. “Daddy’s here.” You wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you deep and slow. You imagined Tommy lying behind you, grinding against you, whispering “good girl,” copping a feel as Joel fucked you. You moaned and whimpered under Joel as he brought you to the brink again. Then, as your wet little pussy fluttered around his cock, he groaned and bottomed out to fill you with his seed.

**********

Now it’s morning, Joel's gone, and you're left alone with his brother. His brother with the sweet smile, soft voice, and big dick that felt so hard against you. Don't have too much fun without me, Joel said. . . With a wink. Unsure what to do with that, you avoid Tommy for most of the day, and he doesn't make you hang out with him. He works in the yard and you catch a few glimpses. He gets hot and takes off his flannel, exposing his wifebeater and oversized belt buckle. As he dabs his forehead with his shirt, his bicep swells and the veins on his hand bulge.

Tommy comes in and takes a shower in the other bathroom. There’s a knock on your bedroom door, then it opens. You’re not sure why you didn’t lock it. Tommy’s wearing jeans, boxers, and nothing else. Your eyes linger on his strong chest. He leans with his hand against the door frame. “Think Joel would let me borrow a shirt? Wasn’t plannin’ to work up a sweat,” he chuckles.

Tommy crosses his muscular arms over his thick, bare chest as you get a white t-shirt out of Joel's dresser and toss it to him. Tommy’s jeans ride down as he lifts his arms and puts the shirt on in front of you. He catches you looking as his head comes through the hole, then he rakes his fingers through his curls. A subtle smile forms, his eyes twinkle, and he gives you a little nod before he walks away.

—

Later, you're taking a bath. You sigh as you sink into the water. Then there's a click as the doorknob lock is effortlessly picked. The door opens and Tommy smiles at you with his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He closes the door behind him. The tub squeaks as you quickly pull up your knees to cover your breasts.

“Musta been touchin’ yourself, huh?” he chuckles as he approaches the tub. “Don't stop on my account.” He winks and his eyes fall on your legs. You scooch them closer together in case he can see through the bathwater.

Your chest feels warm. You look down and away.

Tommy takes a seat on the tiled floor in front of the garden tub. “C’mon sweetheart, don't be shy.” his arm moves out of view, unbuttoning his jeans. Your nipples harden. He tilts his head to peek from the side and smiles.

“What do you want?” you ask softly and a low squeak echoes as you shift in the tub.

“Wanna see ya do it. Go on, finish what ya started.”

“I wasn't.”

“There's no shame in it, sweetheart”

You swallow and look down.

He studies your face and repeats, “Nothin' to be ‘shamed of. You know that. Right?”

“Tell your brother that,” you whisper and instantly regret it. You pinch your eyes shut and add, “No, don't. . .Please.”

“Oh shit,” Tommy whispers. “Ya can’t, can ya?”

You barely shake your head, eyes still closed.

Tommy chuckles. “Controlling fucker, ain't he?”

You look at Tommy and your eyes widen with some defiant glimmer of hope. “God damn,” he whispers. “keepin’ his girl from touchin’ herself.” He looks down and shakes his head in disapproval.

He smiles apologetically. “Guess Daddy knows best, huh?” He tugs his jeans off, and you watch unabashed. As his pants come off, his boxers ride down, exposing his short, dark pubic hair. You can’t help but admire the way his thigh muscles swell out from his boxers.

He palms himself over the fabric and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna see it, don’t ya?” He smiles knowingly at you.

You don’t answer. He shows you anyway, pulling the waistband down under his balls. He's neatly trimmed and his balls are big. He's engorged but not fully hard.

“Do me a favor and spit in my hand, sweetheart.” He holds it out in front of you. You look back and forth between his eyes, then his freckles. He's a handsome man. His hand stays there, waiting patiently. You gather saliva in your mouth, tilt your head forward, and let it drop into his palm.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

He wraps his hand around his cock and You look into the bath water as his eyes devour your body. In the corner of your eye, you can see him at full mast. He breathes heavier, then moves positions. He sits with his right side against the tub, facing you. He strokes himself with his left hand and dips his right hand into the water. You flinch away then try to relax. The backs of Tommy’s fingers graze your calf under the water. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Don't get shy on me now, cupcake.” He reaches behind your calf and touches the back of your leg, near your ass. Your legs involuntarily part. He wouldn't do anything Joel wouldn't like. Would he? Somehow the tension of the situation is only making you want it more. His fingers creep between your legs and caress your inner thigh crease. He sucks in a chest full of air, then gets on his knees. He brings his left hand to your mouth again for lube.

“Good girl.” The squelch of his hand around his cock echoes with the new moisture. He searches your face as half his mouth breaks into a smile. He holds your inner thigh as he jacks off. Then he straightens your leg so he can see your body better. “God damn,” he murmurs, and the sound of his voice is sharpened by the tile. He rubs your thigh, spits into his other hand, keeps tugging at his cock, then when he's close, he gets up and sits on the edge of the tub. It’s impossible not to look at his stiff, angry cock, glistening with your combined saliva. You still have one knee bent above the water–the knee furthest from him.

He pumps himself and stands up to face you. “You wanna know how I taste?” He asks.

You hesitantly shake your head no, unsure if it would be crossing a line. “Okay, sweetheart. Don't have to.” He aims his cock at the water over your lap, then closes his eyes and groans. “Ohh, God. ohhhh,” it lands sharply in your ears as he erupts. Silky ropes of cum dance in the water, some of it wrapping around your thigh. When he's finished, he pulls his boxers back up, then his jeans, but doesn't zip them up. He sits on the edge of the tub again, leans over it, and kisses you on the forehead. Then he whispers in your ear, “I'll make dinner.”

—-

You eat together at the kitchen table. There's a cornucopia centerpiece. The scant conversation is about winter and gardening, until he reaches under the table and squeezes your thigh. You want him so bad, you blurt out, “what’s happening?”

He replies, “Huh?” with his hand still on your thigh.

You search Tommy’s face. “You said it yourself, he’s controlling.” You shift in your chair and he takes his hand back. You continue, “Why doesn’t he care if you. . .”

“Ah,” Tommy smiles down at his plate. “Well. . .” He turns his chair to face you instead of the table. He sits back and manspreads, and his hands rest on his thighs. “I’m just another body to love ya with, sugar.” His eyes drift to the cornucopia. “And I sure am thankful for it.”

His eyes return to you, and your heart flutters.

“He can love on ya when he ain’t here, even.” One of his hands slides up his own thigh to rest closer to his groin. He takes in a deep breath through his nose and nods, admiring you as he slowly exhales. His eyes are darker.

A desperate want is stirring in your belly. It seems too good to be true. You abruptly announce, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay, cupcake. C’mere,” Tommy opens his arms.

You stand between his legs, bend forward, put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. As you pull your head back, his hands on your hips pull you into sitting on his thigh. He brings a hand to your cheek, and it melts you. “I wouldn’t do nothin’ he wouldn’t want,” he reassures you.

You nod.

“End up on the wrong side of the dirt,” he chuckles. When you don’t laugh, he clarifies, “Me, not you. He’d never hurt ya, cupcake.”

Then he cradles your head with both hands, studying your eyes and lips. He wets his lips, and your lips part, watching him. Half his mouth twitches. You’re warm all over. He leans in and looks at your mouth again, getting closer. When you can practically feel the heat of his lips on yours, you close the gap and feel a rush of need when your mouths come together. His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender. You pull away after two seconds.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

—---

You lie in bed missing Joel, wishing he would come home. You feel more at ease with the two of them. Your mind drifts to Tommy. At this rate, you wish he would stay. You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door creaks open.

“Daddy?” When you turn over, the moonlit silhouette is Tommy's. He's only wearing boxers and there's already a tent in them. He lifts the covers, and the mattress dips under his weight.

You ask, “What are you doing?”

“'S’okay, cupcake, I told ya. Promise he won’t be mad.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Your daddy and I been sharin’ our toys for fifty years.”

Your stomach turns, but Tommy adds, “You're the most special of all, ya know.” He scoots closer. “Never seen him in love before.”

You feel your body warming and opening up for him.

“He wants ya to get what ya need, baby,” Tommy whispers.

Your heart pounds.

“Even told me your secret word,” Tommy adds.

“He did?”

“If ya really want me to stop, all ya gotta say is Appleseed.” How would he know that unless Joel told him?

You turn away from Tommy and he doesn't waste any time before spooning you. His strong arm rests over you and his hand cups a breast. He kisses your neck, soft and wet. The thick, warm rod in his boxers grazes your lower back as he tongues your delicate skin. He kisses your neck with increasing passion, and he kneads your breast. Then his arousal fully presses against you through his boxers and your nightgown.

He curves his body around you and pulls you back into him. He sighs and his engorged cock twitches against your crack, giving you a surge of desire. He slides his hand into your nightgown from the top to palm your naked breast and sighs as he grinds against you.

“God damn, sweetheart,” he whispers as your nipple hardens against his palm. He takes his hand out of your nightgown and cups your breast on top of it again, then his hand slowly slides down your sleepwear, feeling every inch of your torso before arriving at your bare thigh. He nudges his fingers under the hem of your nightgown and slides his hand up your thigh. When his hand reaches your pussy, your top leg lifts ever so slightly, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You're not wearing underwear.

“Good girl,” he whispers. You’re aching to have him inside you. “Drippin’ for me ain't ya, baby?”

He circles your clit, and you moan softly. There's a wet spot on his boxers pressing into you. “Fuck” he mutters and backs up his hips. “Damnit, I’m drippin’, too,” he chuckles. “Takin’ these off.”

After taking his boxers off, Tommy hovers over you and you’re still on your side. Tommy's hand comes back to your breast, and you turn your face toward his. Your lips meet, and after two seconds, you don’t pull away. His lips push yours open and you accept his tongue. You breathe through your nose as he licks into your mouth.

Tommy pulls back and reads your face, then gives you another soft kiss before settling in behind you, against you, curled around you again. His naked cock is smooth and warm against your ass. He grinds against you for a minute as he massages your breast and moans into your hair. Then his hand drifts down between your legs and he groans at how wet you are.

“I gotta be in ya, sugar.” Tommy backs up and wedges his rigid cock between your thighs, and it glides smoothly through your mess of arousal. His tip reaches your clit. You’re throbbing needily. Your hips tilt on their own, offering him your hole.

“Fuck,” Tommy says as his tip finds your entrance. “Fuck. That’s right, baby.” he pushes his tip into you. You're dying for it, but you're still a little tense and it's making you even tighter.

“God damn, you feel good. Can't imagine when he first–.” He pushes into you, trying to let your body relax and accommodate his girth. “Oh shit, mmm–that musta been–Fuck.” He pushes a little further. “Relax for me, baby.” He withdraws some then thrusts further into you. “Relax, sugar,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” You take a deep breath and relax. The last of him slides in and he bottoms out. “Ohh, good girl. There we go.” He palms your breast and you melt into him. “We’re right here, baby.”

He’s got you speared on his cock, spread apart by his girth. “God damn. What a good girl.”

With his cock fully sheathed, his thick fingers rub circles on your nipple. You moan, twitching around the new cock buried in the hot center of your body. “Mmm,” he growls into your hair, still not moving. You need friction. He breathes deeply. “breathe with me, baby.” You breathe with him and feel yourself relax more.

“Please,” you whine, beginning to move your hips.

His voice is husky. “God damn. Look at ya, sugar. Fuckin’ yourself on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”

“Please,” you whimper again.

“What's your daddy gonna think?”

Your walls twitch and your heart skips a beat. “You said–”

“Yeah. . .He'll be fine, sweetheart..” Tommy begins to move his hips. “He’d be proud’a ya, takin’ this cock like such a good girl.”

He begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm, breathing heavily and cursing softly. You begin to relax with his hand mapping the front of your body, and his stiff cock thrusting into you. He palms your tit again and your head tilts back against him. He kisses your neck, and your body opens for him even more. Your cunt swallows him up with every thrust.

“Ohh, Joel's a lucky man,” he pants with his dick easily sliding into you, making you whole. “Shit, I'm lucky, too–uggh.” You push back on him as he fills you with his stiff cock.

He asks, “Little harder?”

“Mm,” you nod.

He slams into you and you moan.

“Yeah, that's our girl.”

Soon, you’re lost in the pleasure of Tommy’s thick cock pounding you.

The front door unlocks and you freeze. You’re both facing away from the bedroom door. “‘S’okay,” Tommy reminds you. He slows his hips, then bottoms out and pauses. “C’mere,” he wraps his arms around you and with his cock still inside, he rolls over on his back, then sets you down on your other side, arms still wrapped around you, his cock only sliding out half way in the process.

As soon as you’re settled, he bottoms out again with a soft moan. You and Tommy are both facing the bedroom door now. The covers are down around your waist. The handle moves, then the door opens. The silhouette is Joel with his sleeves rolled up.

—---

As Joel approaches the bed, the moonlight hits him and his face is dark.

“She’s so good, Joel,” Tommy pants, with you still full of his cock.

Joel comes to the bed and crouches down. “God damn.” Joel gently takes your jaw in his hand and tilts his head. He studies your face, then his eyes land on yours affectionately. “Couldn't go one day, could ya?” He smiles with his eyes and relief washes over you.

“M’sorry daddy,” you sigh. “Are you mad?”

“No, baby.” Tommy is fucking you slowly. “I ain't mad.” Joel slowly stands up and palms himself over his jeans as he watches your body move to the slow rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts.

“Really?”

“Baby, I keep ya stuffed so full’a cock. . . can't blame ya for needin’ it.”

“Yeah,” you whimper.

“That's what Uncle Tommy's here for,” Tommy whispers.

“Now I get to see ya,” Joel says “All of ya,” Joel gently pulls the covers all the way off. Then Joel tugs up at the hem of your nightgown and kneels down to take it off you.

You try to move forward, reaching for Joel, but Joel puts his hand on your bare chest and Tommy pulls you back, bottoming out again with a moan.

“Want yours,” you whimper.

“Shhh. You're gonna get it.”

You watch Joel take off all his clothes, and as he does it, he watches you moving at a slow rhythm. When Joel’s naked, he spits in his hand. He stands by the bed watching you get fucked by his brother, taking in the view as he squeezes his cock.

“Daddy, please,” you whine.

Joel sits down on the bed. Tommy scooches back to make more room and brings you back with him, still impaled on his cock. Joel lies down and faces you. He gets right up against you, and the first thing he does is kiss you. His hard cock lays against your clit and mound, throbbing for you. You moan into his mouth as Tommy’s cock drags slowly inside you from behind.

Joel’s arm wedges between your back and Tommy’s chest, grabbing hold of you. Joel nudges you upward. Tommy takes the hint and pulls out. You wrap your leg over Joel’s hip. His eyes scan your face, marveling at your feral want. Joel’s hand, still on your back, slides down your ass and hooks under it, between your legs, feeling your sopping wet cunt from the back. “God damn, baby. This all you or did Uncle Tommy cum already?”

“Not yet,” Tommy answers.

Joel’s tip slides through your folds, then he pulls back and notches himself at your entrance. He moves his hand to your hip, and pushes into you with a sigh. You're so wet and aroused, he sinks all the way into you. “Fuck,” Joel breathes. “oh, yeah—ugghh–swallowed me right up, baby.” He marvels at how relaxed you are. With Joel’s arm out of the way, Tommy’s tummy returns flush against your back, with his hard, wet cock pressing against your ass cheek. He grabs your tit.

Joel buries his cock in you. “Oh baby, you love this, don’t ya?”

You nod. “Love your cock, daddy.”

“You’re takin’ it so good, baby. Think you’re wet enough for—ohh, darlin’.” He grinds against you, deep inside you. “You wanna ride this cock, baby?”

You nod. Joel slides out of you and you whimper at the loss as he rolls onto his back. Joel lies face up and holds his cock for you. He whispers, “C’mere baby,” but you're already on your way.

You straddle him and sink right down on him with a whimpered, “daddy,” then bend forward, putting your tits against Joel’s chest. Tommy’s slowly stroking himself and watching.

“C’mere,” Joel whispers and reaches for your head. He pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss as you grind into him with his cock buried in you. It only takes a few seconds of grinding into Joel for your walls to spasm.

“Oh god,” he mutters as you contract around him. “oh—oh, God, baby.”

As you finish coming on Joel's cock, your whole body relaxes. You’re even wetter and more open than you were before. “Now you’re–oh yeah, you’re good,” Joel whispers to himself with his hands on the backs of your thighs. You both breathe for a moment and you begin to slowly move again.

Joel licks his finger then reaches over your ass, his hand approaching your hole from behind. You stop moving as he gently wedges the thick digit into your cunt from the top so his fingernail is against his cock. “Yeah,” he whispers, moving the finger around, checking how much you'll stretch. “Yeah,” he says as his head turns and he glances at Tommy.

Joel cups your cheek and reads your face. “Can I fuck ya with two cocks, baby?”

You spasm with an aftershock. “It won't fit,” you protest, but the thought of it turns you on. Your hips begin to move again. You're taking his cock and his finger.

“Can we find out, baby doll?” Joel asks.

You slowly move on his cock and finger, with your face close to his. Your clit is throbbing. “You aren't worried to stretch me?”

“You'll snap right back, baby,” Joel pants as he wedges another finger in with his cock.

“I dunno if I can,” you whine.

“It’s okay, darlin’. Let's find out.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Tommy gets up on his knees and gets close to Joel's shoulder, near your head.

“Get it nice and wet,” Joel tells you.

Without getting off Joel's cock, you turn your head enough to accept Tommy's cock into your mouth. You let saliva pool under your tongue, then swirl it all over his shaft until he's dripping. “alright” Tommy whispers, then you deposit the rest of the saliva from under your tongue. “Alright, don't make me cum, sweetheart.”

Tommy straddles Joel’s legs behind you while Joel hugs you close.

Tommy nudges your occupied hole. Joel slowly removes his fingers and Tommy’s tip finds its place between the first cock and the back wall of your cunt. Once Tommy's tip is nestled there, Joel’s fingers leave you and both his hands hold your sides.

“Deep breath,” Tommy whispers. You draw in a chest full of air, and when you begin to exhale, he begins to push in.

It burns for a moment as Tommy’s cockhead breaches your dripping hole, but his smooth, wet cock feels better than the fingers. “Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he pushes further.

“Daddy,” you whimper. “It's a lot.”

“I know it is, darlin’, you're doin’ so good.”

“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers. You take deep breaths and try to relax. The burn fades as your body catches up. The stretch is only a little uncomfortable around their shafts at the very edge of you. Deeper inside, you feel a fullness you couldn't have imagined.

“Good,” Joel says. “doin’ real good, baby. You wanna keep goin’?”

You nod. You take deep breaths and bow your head as Tommy sinks in a little more.

“God damn, baby. Packed full of it, ain’t ya?”Joel marvels. The look on his face makes you twitch.

You lock eyes with Joel, bite your lip, and nod. Joel tilts his hips down toward the bed and you groan into Joel’s chest as Tommy pushes into you as much as he can. The burn is fading, and the sense of fullness overwhelms you in the best way. It's not just physical. You close your eyes and savor it. Joel’s hips begin to move. He slides against your front wall, nudging just the right place, making you whimper.

Tommy slides in rhythm, and his breathing is labored. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Shit-–ugggh.” He warns Joel, “I'm pretty close, brother.”

Joel looks like he's making a calculation behind his eyes. Then he reads your face. “You want double the cum, baby?”

You nod.

“That's my girl,” Joel whispers. “That’s my perfect lil girl.” His hips wiggle under you.

“Ohh-fff-uuggh” Tommy pants and pulls back.

Joel moves his hips and slides within your stuffed hole. Tommy stays still while Joel thrusts a few small strokes and you groan. Tommy pushes forward and you sigh. Joel kisses you. You push back and Tommy slides forward. Joel does another slow thrust upward, then Tommy says “fuck,” pushes another inch, then begins to cum. “Oh god,” Tommy groans. His dick pulses and pulses in your packed cunt as his warm release coats your walls and Joel's cock.

“Jesus,” Tommy sighs, then begins to pull out of you. The burn returns as the crown of his tip crests your entrance on its way out. Then you whimper in relief. There's a sense of loss as your body slowly draws itself back in, but it's a major comfort still being wrapped around Joel's cock. Tommy lies down on his back to recover.

“You did so good baby,” Joel brushes your cheek and his hips lift as your body adjusts itself back to his girth. “Ya like havin’ two cocks?” It’s the first time you haven’t felt packed full from Joel’s cock alone, and your temples feel weak.

You nod hesitantly. “Do I still feel good?”

“Oh darlin’, you feel so good,” he breathes and the tension melts away from your face.

“Yeah, I liked it,” you whisper. “But I only need one.”

He cradles your head and it feels like it's just the two of you. “Love you so much,” he whispers, and brings your face to his again, rolling his hips under you. He kisses you deeply and grinds up into you with his cock all the way inside. Your mouth breaks away with a moan, and your hips begin to move, bringing an obscene squelching sound with them.

“Oh darlin’,” Joel whispers, and he pulls you back into a kiss. He grunts into your mouth with a sharp thrust upward, and the tension boils over. You begin to clench around him. Joel breaks the kiss with a shudder, then he moans your name as you flutter around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you flush, then pulses with a groan. “Ohhhh, fuck—ohhh,” he sighs as he releases a massive load, more than doubling the cum inside you. The rhythm of Joel’s cock soothes you as his load combines with Tommy's.

—--

You stay on Joel’s cock for a few minutes, and he strokes your back, praising you quietly. Tommy falls asleep. Eventually you sigh and whine, "I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Ok, baby,” Joel whispers and begins to help you off his cock.

When you come back, Joel helps you into bed between them. You face Joel and he kisses you good night. You feel thankful for him as you drift off to sleep.

—-

sequel here

Thank you for reading 🖤 I know people want updates on certain Joels but I haven't been having the easiest time and sometimes writing something new is lower-pressure.

Uncle Tommy is a brain worm I've had for a couple months ever since I blurted it out in another series.

I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print

And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey

-----

FIC RECS

If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are

I can be your pretty girl part 4, and part 5 by (RIP) walkintotheriveranddisappear who sadly inactivated

Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,

If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra.

More brotherly sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.

If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered.

More fic recs (and more to come) on my rec blog @toxicrecs.

Alright I tried to bring my tag list back and something went wrong so I might have to remove them from the post sorry 🥲

#joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #uncle!tommy #uncle!tommy miller #daddy!joel miller #uncle tommy #uncle tommy miller

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yeoldenews · 4 months

Note

While we’re on the subject of names, is there an explanation for how traditional nicknames came about that are seemingly unrelated to, or have little in common with, the original name?

ie- John/Jack, Richard/Dick, Henry/Harry/Hank, Charles/Chuck, Margaret/Peggy/Daisy, Sarah/Sally, Mary/Molly, Anne/Nan, etc

I am actually over a week into researching a huge follow-up post (probably more than one if I’m being honest) about the history of nickname usage, so I will be going into this in much, much more detail at a hopefully not-so-later date - if I have not lost my mind. (Two days ago I spent three hours chasing down a source lead that turned out to be a typographical error from 1727 that was then quoted in source after source for the next 150 years.)

As a preview though, here’s some info about the names you mentioned:

The origins of a good portion of common English nicknames come down to the simple fact that people really, really like rhyming things. Will 🠞Bill, Rob🠞Bob, Rick🠞Dick, Meg🠞Peg.

It may seem like a weird reason, but how many of you have known an Anna/Hannah-Banana? I exclusively refer to my Mom’s cat as Toes even though her name is Moe (Moesie-Toesies 🠞 Toesies 🠞 Toes).

Jack likely evolved from the use of the Middle English diminutive suffix “-chen” - pronounced (and often spelled) “-kyn” or “kin”. The use of -chen as a diminutive suffix still endures in modern German - as in “liebchen” = sweetheart (lieb “love” + -chen).

John (Jan) 🠞 Jankin 🠞 Jackin 🠞 Jack.

Hank was also originally a nickname for John from the same source. I and J were not distinct letters in English until the 17th Century. “Iankin” would have been nearly indistinguishable in pronunciation from “Hankin” due to H-dropping. It’s believed to have switched over to being a nickname for Henry in early Colonial America due to the English being exposed to the Dutch nickname for Henrik - “Henk”.

Harry is thought to be a remnant of how Henry was pronounced up until the early modern era. The name was introduced to England during the Norman conquest as the French Henri (On-REE). The already muted nasal n was dropped in the English pronunciation. With a lack of standardized spelling, the two names were used interchangeably in records throughout the middle ages. So all the early English King Henrys would have written their name Henry and pronounced it Harry.

Sally and Molly likely developed simply because little kids can’t say R’s or L’s. Mary 🠞 Mawy 🠞 Molly. Sary 🠞 Sawy 🠞 Sally.

Daisy became a nickname for Margaret because in French garden daisies are called marguerites.

Nan for Anne is an example of a very cool linguistic process called rebracketing, where two words that are often said/written together transfer letters/morphemes over time. The English use of “an” instead of “a” before words beginning with vowels is a common cause of rebracketing. For example: the Middle English “an eute” became “a newt”, and “a napron” became “an apron”. In the case of nicknames the use of the archaic possessive “mine” is often the culprit. “Mine Anne” over time became “My Nan” as “mine” fell out of use. Ned and Nell have the same origin.

Oddly enough the word “nickname” is itself a result of rebracketing, from the Middle English “an eke (meaning additional) name”.

I realized earlier this week that my cat (Toe’s sister) also has a rebracketing nickname. Her name is Mina, but I call her Nom Nom - formed by me being very annoying and saying her name a bunch of time in a row - miNAMiNAMiNAM.

Chuck is a very modern (20th century) nickname which I’ll have to get back to you on as I started my research in the 16th century and am only up to the 1810s so far lol.

#names #nicknames #onomastics #history #asks #nicknames are really hard to research you guys #there is so much info out there and it's almost all nonsense #and I'm talking academic books with listed sources not buzzfeed listicles #some guy in the 18th century forgetting to mention Bill on a list of common nicknames does not mean it wasn't in use at the time ma dude #i've had to get very creative with sources #god bless word for word murder trial testimony

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ruggiezz · 9 months

Text

— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am

[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)

[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)

[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions

── Most likely

★﹕LILIA VANROUGE

Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..

★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)

He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.

★﹕ROOK HUNT

Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.

★﹕SILVER

Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.

★﹕JACK HOWL

When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA

You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.

★﹕JADE LEECH

You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?

★﹕EPEL FELMIER

He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.

★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT

No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM

He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.

★﹕IDIA SHROUD

Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.

★﹕TREY CLOVER

... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.

★﹕FLOYD LEECH

He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.

★﹕JAMIL VIPER

No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.

★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT

Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.

── Least likely

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pathologicalreid · 4 months

Text

sense memory | S.R.

After eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.

who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: flangst content warnings: general cm violence, peter lewis, prison reid, cat adams word count: 2.64k a/n: i have no idea if i like this or not. it might be too cheesy. but i like cheese.

Second floor, apartment 23.

You leaned against the wall and slid down until you were sat on the ground. You left your bag draped over your shoulder, holding the strap tightly.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while, sweetie,” someone said, causing your head to snap up. “Here to see him?” Spencer’s elderly neighbor asked as she passed, carrying a grocery bag in her hand from the market down the street.

Nodding, you smiled softly at her, “I was on a trip. I’m just waiting for him to come home.”

She hummed and kept walking to her door, apartment 24. “He went on a trip too, huh.”

Waving halfheartedly as she disappeared into her apartment, you leaned your head against the wall. Yeah, you went on a trip – a trip to witness protection, and Spencer went to prison.

Spencer went to prison. The words still felt foreign to you, you hadn’t heard them until two weeks ago after Peter Lewis died. Since he didn’t know where you were, he sent letters to your old address, and they were forwarded to the marshal assigned to protect you. When you left the program, you got the letters. 178 letters.

Some of them were several pages long, some of them were as simple as an I love you or an I miss you, and some of them had doodles, usually equations.

You wondered if he’d gotten your mail yet. The letters and pictures you’d collected for your marshal to send to him once you were out of WITSEC. You weren’t even sure if he’d want to see you, but your dad encouraged you to try anyway.

You had left in October, just after his birthday, and now it was May.

After being separated from your dad and Jack for so long, you went to stay with them for a week, but you knew you wanted to return to the district. You wanted to see Spencer, for closure if for nothing else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, JJ,” you heard him say from the first floor, and panic washed over you. The nerves of seeing him again had you wondering whether or not you could survive a jump out of the second-story window.

But the hallway windows didn’t open, you were left panicking, and then there he was.

You shouldn’t be here; you didn’t know what to say to him. The first person from your past should’ve been someone else. You could’ve called JJ or Penelope.

You saw him before he saw you, he was too busy digging in his bag for his keys. Pulling yourself up to your feet, you stood up and wiped your clammy hands on your jeans.

When he looked up and saw you, his expression went from confusion to disbelief to shock. Not once did he look happy, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he, like you, had been finding it hard to be happy lately.

Your chest ached as he walked past you and put his key in the lock. Spencer opened the door, and you held your breath as he held the door open, and you stepped inside of the apartment.

For months, you had imagined this moment in your mind, wondering what you would say when you finally got to see him again. He set his keys down on the entryway table before he turned around and faced you.

Familiar honey-colored irises studied you as if he was comparing the last time he had seen you to now.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, suddenly feeling like you were imposing on him.

Slowly, you walked backward out of the still-open door, resorting to the idea of never seeing him again. Until he spoke, “Please don’t leave me again.” His voice was soft, timid in a way you had never heard before.

You spun around and your lips parted in surprise. Tentatively, you stepped back toward him before you were right in front of him, inches apart, “I won’t.” It was a promise.

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but the next moment your arms were slung around his neck and Spencer’s were around your torso, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted off the ground.

He’d bowed his head so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer that had been answered.

Propping your chin up on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, “I’m right here, Spence. I’m right here.” He was the same, and yet entirely different. Maybe more muscular, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You opened your mouth to speak again, to tell him that you would never leave him again, not as long as he didn’t want you to.

Everything had changed in the past eight months; you knew you couldn’t make him that promise. That I’ll never leave you promise. It wasn’t real.

But Spencer was real. He was real and he was clutching you the way you were clutching you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that you might bruise. “I got your letters,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You felt tears seep through your clothes as you took a deep breath and gently pried yourself away from him. “222 days,” he told you matter-of-factly. “I haven’t seen you in 222 days because you were in witness protection and you’re apologizing to me.”

“Of course, I’m apologizing to you. God, I left the program, and my marshal was like ‘Oh, by the way, here are hundreds of letters from your friends and your boyfriend wrote to you while you were gone. And just so you know, your boyfriend was in federal prison for the last three months.’” You took a few deep, uneven breaths. “What am I supposed to do with that, Spencer? Stop looking at me like that!”

He was smiling at you, his eyes were still watery, but he was giving you a doting smile even so, “I missed you.”

You dropped to a crouch at his words, and he followed you down. Those were the only words you had needed to hear over the last eight months. Meekly, you looked up at him, kneeling in front of you. When you left, Spencer had seemed like he was on top of the world, his mom had been accepted in that clinical trial, and the two of you had been talking more and more about your future. Now he seemed… heavier. A more burdened person. “I missed you so much,” you cried.

Reaching over to you, Spencer gently wiped the tears from your face before pulling you close to him, “You look as beautiful as you did the day I lost you.”

The two of you toppled over as a result of focusing on holding each other instead of balancing. He laid back on the floor, holding you close to him. You looked up, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You never lost me. You could never lose me. I always knew I’d come back; I always knew you’d get Scratch.”

“I didn’t, though,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

You hummed, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your palm. “We’re here now, doesn’t that count for anything?”

Spencer pushed up so that he was being supported by his elbows, “That counts for everything.” He studied your face, “Where did that scar come from? It’s new,” he said, his voice still quiet, like you were an animal, and he was trying not to scare you away.

“Oh,” you murmured, “bashed my head on a door. Only me, right?” You brushed him off before clambering to your feet. What were you supposed to do now? Ask him if he wanted to talk? You used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose. God, he had called you beautiful with snot running down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, staring at the floor. “I know, I know you’re going to say that I don’t have anything to apologize for, but I’m apologizing anyway. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry that Morgan, my dad, and I all left within the same few months.”

He shook his head, “If you hadn’t gone, you’d most likely be dead now. I’d rather miss you for eight months than grieve you for a lifetime.”

You stepped away from him until you backed into the couch, “I thought about calling you. I had no idea that I wouldn’t have been able to. I just thought that-“

And just like that, he was kissing you. It was inevitable, just a question of who would make the first move. A small, shocked noise bubbled in your throat before you leaned into the kiss. It was gentle, tentative even. You gripped the lapels of his jacket as if he’d fade away, but you kissed him gently until he pulled away. “You showing up is the best thing to happen to me all year,” he murmured, sweeping your hair behind your ears. “You remain the most important person in my life.”

“Second most important,” you corrected. “How’s your mom?” Some of the information in his letters didn’t seem overly optimistic, mentioning him bringing her home to stay with him and a medication that he was getting in Mexico.

Spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile, “She’s good, I just went to see her with JJ, actually. She’s staying at a home in the district now.”

You smiled, “That’s good, keeping her close will be good for the both of you, I think.” Spencer reached around your body and pulled at your jacket, “What are you doing?”

“Taking your coat off in an attempt to coax you into staying,” he answered candidly.

Humming, you allowed him to pull the coat off of you, watching intently as he hung it on the coat rack. “Spence?” His name still felt foreign in your mouth as you moved to sit down on the couch.

He looked at you once he finished hanging his own coat, “Yeah?” Sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. A calculated decision, giving you space, but not sitting in a different chair.

“We should talk about it,” you responded, swallowing thickly. “All of it. Everything,” you continued. Millburn. Cat. Mr. Scratch.

Spencer went first, talking to you intently about what happened in that hotel room in Mexico. When he told you what Lindsay had done, you had to swallow your anger. Every once in a while, he’d trip over his words, and you encouraged him to take a break. You laid down on the couch and Spencer nestled in right next to you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and enabling you to play with his hair.

Eventually, he told you about Scratch’s takedown. How Luke had watched him dangle from the ledge of that building before he fell to his death.

You sniffled at the end of his story, “I’ll have to thank Luke next time I see him.” You said, closing your eyes and reveling in your sense memory. The smell of his shampoo – tea tree – and the smell of his apartment – stale coffee and old books.

“Where were you?” He whispered, reaching up and skimming the scar on your forehead with his fingertips.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to find his brown ones watching you. “Minnesota,” You whispered, “St. Paul.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “Then Sacramento, for a while.”

His brows furrowed, “Why did you leave St. Paul?”

You hesitated, afraid to speak about the event. One of the worst things to have ever happened to you, right on up there with the death of your mother. “My uh…” you cleared your throat, “my location was compromised.”

“Does it have anything to do with the scar?” The one you had lied to him about hours ago.

Shutting your eyes, you nodded almost imperceptibly, “It has everything to do with the scar.”

You could see him starting to put a story together on his own, there was a scar on your face that hadn’t been there last year. A scratch. “What happened?”

The memory was there, you wanted to bury it, but it would stick with you forever. The scar on your forehead would fade, but the scar on your soul was permanent. “I did it, I put the scar there,” you admitted. “I don’t know how he found me,” you whispered, that same feeling of defeat rising in your chest.

You were lucky that there was no one else in the house for you to hurt because if Peter Lewis had turned you into a murderer, it might’ve pushed you over the metaphorical edge. As you spoke to Spencer, you told him as much. You were in a bad place while you were in WITSEC.

The two of you remained curled up together in a mess of tears and limbs and fistfuls of shirts and the overwhelming fear of being separated. Looking at him simultaneously broke your heart and put it back together again. “Sacramento was nice, but I missed the East Coast,” you whispered.

“What about your dad?” Spencer asked softly. Part of you wondered if he wanted to go to sleep, it was dark outside now, but you couldn’t be bothered to check the time.

Nodding, you sniffled, “he’s in Philadelphia with Jack, has been the whole time. That’s where I’ve been, with them.”

Spencer lifted his head to look at you, “Where are you staying tonight?”

Sighing, you shifted on the couch, “In a hotel, I’m apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“No,” he said simply, a frown forming on his face.

You laughed lightly, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

He shook his head, “I mean don’t go apartment hunting tomorrow, stay here with me. Stay here tonight, too.” He said, voice bordering on pleading.

“Spencer, we were together for almost six years and never moved in together,” you told him, arching one brow in suspicion. You had talked about it, it just never seemed to happen.

He sat up fully, “I’m tired of making excuses about breaking leases and travel times, Y/N. There’s not enough time in life to keep avoiding it,” he gestured wildly with his hands as his voice slowly rose.

You tried to wrap your head around the idea, “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through before making a decision this big.” Folding your hands in your lap, you noticed the first real change in him. This was impulsive.

“I spent three months in prison thinking about you!” He said loudly, “Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going.” That was quieter like he realized how loud he was actually being. “I knew there was my mom, I knew there was the team, but seeing you again… that kept me going.” He studied your face and based on the emotions you were feeling you could only imagine what your expression was, “Is it me? Is it everything I told you that I did? The poison? Cat? Do you not love me anymore?”

Your breath hitched, “I love you. Of course, I still love you.” Finally, you saw it. He was different, but at the same time, he was still the boy who hid his feelings from you – afraid of upsetting your father. The two of you had a long way to go before you could be together in way you used to be, and maybe things would never be the same.

His shoulders slouched forward in relief, “then move in with me.”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder, “okay.” You took his hand in yours, expertly intertwining your fingers as if no time had passed. “Okay,” you whispered. It certainly didn’t hurt to try.

“And for the record,” he murmured, “I love you too.”

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lucyrose191 · 4 months

Text

BROKEN DECISIONS| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Divorced!Toto Wolff x fem!engineer!Schumacher!reader

Summary; The news of Toto Wolff divorcing from Susie has just hit the media and you, Michael Schumacher’s eldest daughter and George Russel’s race engineer, are beyond shocked, even more so as your relationship with your boss begins to evolve.

Warnings; angst, light smut, heartbreak, pregnancy trope.

F1 Master List , Part 2

The paddock was overwhelmed with media reporters and cameras, way more than usual for a race weekend, the Mercedes garage was surrounded by people as well as the entrance to the track, all waiting for one man, Toto Wolff.

You had been more than taken back by the joint statements released this morning which both effectively said the same thing.

mercedesamgf1: Team Principle Toto Wolff announces divorce from wife Susie Wolff, both will continue to co-parent son Jack Wolff and will continue to work together happily, they wish nothing but the best for each other in the future and wish for the privacy and support they need during this time.

SusieStoddart: Toto and I have mutually decided to part ways and divorce after 12 years of marriage, both of us will continue to co-parent our son, Jack and will continue working together in the future. I wish nothing but the best to him for the future, please respect our privacy during this time and I hope you guys will continue to support us both from this point on, even on our separate paths. Thank you.

It all seemed so sudden to you, nothing has seemed out of place whenever they were in the garage together but you suppose that’s how the saying you never know what’s going on behind closed doors goes.

You squeezed your way through the crowd, ignoring all of the questions fired your way and the cameras and microphones that were shoved in your face, it wasn’t your job to be making comments about a relationship that had nothing to do with you and it was entirely unprofessional.

Huffing out a breath as you finally crossed the threshold of the garage, you straightened out your clothes and bag before making your way over to your desk that you sat at whenever George was out on the track.

Bono was already in his chair and looked up when he heard you pull your hair out, taking note of your flustered state. "I take it you’ve seen the news."

"It’s everywhere! It’d be a miracle if I hadn’t seen it," you huffed. Looking around, you noticed how flustered everyone else seemed to be whilst trying to do their jobs, you didn’t blame them because right now no one knew what mood the boss was going to be in when he arrived, if he arrived.

"Is he even coming today? I certainly wouldn’t." You asked.

Bono shrugged, "you know what he’s like, that man would be here even if his leg was falling off, he’ll be here and god help him when he is."

"Yeah, true. Am I blind though or did anyone else not see this coming because they were both at the factory two weeks ago and everything seemed fine to me."

Bono turned away from his monitor and completely turned to you, huddling closer. "I didn’t suspect anything either but they’re really good as keeping work life and private life separated. Have you seen some of the rumours though?"

You snorted and nodded your head, "I’ve seen the ones about Toto having an affair which is ridiculous, that man does not have the time to be hiding an entire relationship."

Bono laughed at your choice of words but abruptly stopped as he stared behind you causing you to look at him in confusion before turning around, pausing at the sight of your boss walking in with a face of stone.

"Ahh shit," you muttered, hearing a small hum of agreement coming from Bono.

Then you saw him heading into your direction.

"Double shit," You heard Bono mumble causing you to bite your lip, trying to prevent yourself from smiling.

"Y/N. Bono. Good Morning," Toto nodded his head in greeting.

You smiled up at him, "Morning, boss, feeling positive about today?"

Bono sighed from behind you which caused you to internally wince at your own words, now realising that might not have been a good question to ask.

"Yeah," Toto looked between the pair of you suspiciously. "Are you?"

"Very," you tried to sound convincing, "I’m sure George is going to drive like it’s his last race and if not then I’ll boot him up the arse."

Toto looked at you amused, "I believe you."

After he walked away you turned to Bono with a pained look on your face meanwhile he was trying not to fall into laughter. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

He laughed straight in your face as you sighed at yourself. "How an I supposed to talk to him normally when all I want to say to his face is ‘hey, heard about your divorce, that sucks and now everyone thinks you can’t keep a wife’."

"Yeah don’t say that," Bono grimaced at your words.

Everything was real now, it had been real for a while but now the news was out for everyone to gossip about.

Things hadn’t been right for a long time between him and Susie and whilst there hadn’t been any constant arguing or disloyalty between the two of them, there hadn’t been much else either.

You’d have thought working within the same industry would have built an understanding between them about their schedules and commitments and it had in the beginning but as formula one became more popular, their lives had only gotten busier to the point they hardly saw each other and even when they did it was only to ensure Jack was getting enough quality time with both of his parents, it was as though they had been coparenting with each other whilst they weren’t even split.

A year ago they had accepted the inevitable fate of their marriage and had been figuring out the logistics of their divorce but just like they had kept their struggles silenced, they had kept the news of their parting silent too.

But it had been over a year now and quite frankly the fake shows they were putting on were getting exhausting, they were both moving on and pretending to still be a happily married couple wasn’t doing well in helping them in the process.

Toto had found a particular thing that hadn’t allowed him to dwell in the sadness of his private life. Something, or someone, that didn’t even know how much they were helping him.

You.

Everyday you showed up to work with a smile on your face, eternally grateful for everything life had offered you. You had achieved your dreams of working within formula one, it might not have been on the track driving at record breaking speeds like your father but you had one of the most important roles in the team and you enjoyed it.

Even today as he walked through the doors trying to ignore all of the sad, pathetic looks people were giving him and the onslaught of invasive questions people were attacking him with and even if they weren’t verbally shooting words his way, he could see the unasked questions in everyone’s eyes, you greeted him like you did every other day and whilst he knew you were aware of the news, nothing in your face showed the slightest bit of curiosity towards the end of his marriage and he couldn’t express how refreshing that was and how much he needed it.

Slowly, he found himself looking forward to the days ahead where he could bump into you and witness the smile on your face as he tried to ignore the way your energy made his heart feel funny and when Mick signed as the team’s reserve driver he would use the fact that he was ‘mentoring’ your little brother as an excuse to see you, knowing that naturally he would be around you more.

You jumped up from your seat in excitement as you saw both Mercedes cars pass the checkered flag securing second and third place behind Max, obviously.

"George you fucking beautiful human bring!" You shouted through the radio before turning to look for Toto, hoping that these results would have put a smile on his face only to find that he was already looking at you intensely, not even acknowledging the pats he was getting on his back by team members.

He winked at you? And sent you what seemed to be a grateful smile before turning away to celebrate with those around him. You were thankful he did so and didn’t see the pink hue you could feel spreading through your cheeks.

A sudden weight on your back didn’t allow you to dwell on it. Mick had launched himself at you in his exhilaration causing you to quickly latch onto his legs so you both didn’t go tumbling, you laughed and spun the pair of you around before putting him down so you could all go outside and gather in the pits to watch the podium.

You always went out of your way to be a kind person but the moment your team was standing under the podium all manners went out of the way and you barged your way to the front of the barriers to watch, mumbling half-hearted apologies, you knew no one would take your behaviour the wrong way as you’ve known them for so long.

Looking up, you were happy to see the smiles on Lewis and George’s faces, tough seasons can really take a told on the mental health of the drivers and it can be easy to lose motivation, especially when you were part of a team that was so used to winning but they looked as happy as ever now and it made all of the hard work that everyone had put in worth it.

Two hands clamped down on your shoulders startling you, followed by the feeling of a firm chest being pressed up against your back. You looked up and saw Toto but he wasn’t looking at you, he kept his gaze up on the podium and the happiness on his face hadn’t subsided so you didn’t question it and turned back to the celebrations.

His behaviour was really confusing you and you wanted to talk to him about it but decided to push it away for another day.

His behaviour hasn’t been limited to that day alone.

The entire season has been filled with soft touches from him, from a small brush of his hand against your back as he walked past or light touches of your hips to guide you to the side when you were in his walk way.

Let’s not forget about the way he started to look at you. Toto’s stare was always intense but now you couldn’t ignore the soft shine his eyes held as he looked at you.

You hoped you weren’t reading too much into things otherwise that would be embarrassing but you couldn’t stop noticing the little things he would do and what was even worse was the way these things were effecting you.

These touches would leave your skin feeling tingly and your head fuzzy to the point your mind just turned blank and now whenever he was so much as in the same room as you, your mind became hyper-fixated on his presence to the point it felt like you were compelled to constantly glance in his direction.

You had worked for him for nearly eight years and not once had you even considered looking at him in any other way other than as your boss and a friend.

You acknowledged that he was handsome and had the charisma to match but you had never been attracted to him up until now, how was this year any different to the last seven?

Hands slamming down into your desk startled you from your thoughts, you looked up wide eyed at the grinning face of your younger brother causing you to grumble in annoyance and throw the pen that was sitting on your desk at him.

"What’s wrong with your face?" Mick easily dodged your attack and asked.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"My big sister always has a smile on her face and for the last twenty minutes you’ve been sat there staring at nothing with a frown on your face."

"Nothing," you muttered, turning back to your laptop screen that had long since shut off.

"Right," Mick replied sarcastically, "Come on, tell me what’s wrong."

You pursed your lips as you debated telling him or not. "You promise not to tell anyone?"

Mick’s face lost its teasing look as he realised you were actually troubled. "Of course." He replied sincerely.

You hesitated for a moment longer before asking "have you noticed that Toto has been acting strange lately?"

Mick looked at you surprised for a moment before smirking and nodded, "you mean the fact that the entire season he’s been staring at you like you’re the finest piece of meat he’s ever seen?" He asked teasingly.

"I wouldn’t have worded it that way but yeah," you responded.

"Then yes, I’m surprised it took you this long to acknowledge it."

You shook your head, "I noticed it at the beginning of the season but I thought I was imagining it and now I can’t stop noticing the fact that he-"

"Fancies the hell out of you?" Mick finished, a shit eating grin on his face.

You groaned and placed your head against your desk. "This is wrong, he’s my boss!"

"Tell me about it, he’s mine too and he fancies my sister!"

"Stop saying he fancies me!" You told him resulting in him just laughing at you. "Seriously Mick, what am I supposed to do?"

Mick sighed and looked at you seriously, "Do you like him?"

"I dont know," you replied honestly, "before this season I wouldn’t have even looked at him as anything but my boss and a friend but now he keeps looking at me and taking any opportunity to touch me and it’s confusing me."

Mick pulled an uncomfortable face at your words but gave you some advice. "Then do nothing until you know for sure."

You nodded and he smiled before walking around your desk and wrapping you in a tight hug which was more like a headlock but it was a hug nonetheless.

"Smile! We’re in Abu Dhabi and we’re partying tonight," he fake cheered as he walked away causing you to laugh at his behaviour.

And that’s exactly what you did. It had been a tough season for Mercedes, the team hadn’t nearly performed as well as they were used to but through a lot of hard work the season had ended on a high note and and no one was going to dwell on this years difficulties tonight.

You were definitely allowing yourself some freedom tonight to drink away and forget about the confusing thoughts that had been swimming around in your head all season.

The club was dark except for the colourful flashing lights that were roaming the entirety of the room that the FIA had rented out for all of the f1 teams celebrating tonight. You were already feeling more relaxed from the three drinks you hadn’t wasted time on consuming and had dragged poor Bono, who had zero rhythm, to the dance floor.

The man looked traumatised as he simply stood there awkwardly with you holding onto his hands, swaying his arms to try and encourage him to dance and have a bit of fun.

You kept him there for an hour before eventually taking pity on him and letting him go, you walked over to the bar to get another drink, not seeing the person approaching you until he was right beside you.

"You look lovely."

You turned to your right in surprise, Toto was mimicking your stance, leaning his side against the bar as he looked into yours eyes. "Thank you," you replied, a little shocked at his words.

"I see you were having fun with Bono," he commented absentmindedly.

You laughed, "Me? Yes. I don’t think he was having as much fun as I was."

"He’s not much of a dancer," Toto smirked.

"Oh, I know. He can’t move to save his life but it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try."

The bartender placed your drink in front of you and you took a sip after giving him a thanks. "Have you been having fun?" You asked.

Toto tapped his fingers against the bar top and signed. "As much as I can after the shit season we’ve had."

"We’ll be better next year," you replied confidently.

He simply nodded in response, dragging his gaze down your body and back up again.

The feeling of his eyes trailing you left a burning heat on your skin and an unfamiliar fluttering in your stomach.

"I like this dress," he told you, nodding at the tight fabric that clung to your figure.

"I got it yesterday," you knew he didn’t care but for some reason you felt inclined to share that information with him, fighting the urge to look away and hide a smile.

"You picked wisely," he immediately responded and this time you didn’t fight the smile, his smooth responses settling within you exactly how he wanted.

"I’m glad you like it," your voice was quiet in the midst of the loud music and voices but it didn’t prevent him from hearing you words.

The way he smirked down at you made you feel much smaller than you were, the idea of how his stature and strength would help with the power he held over you made you burn with need and the want to find out for yourself.

You huffed out a breath.

You needed another drink.

You threw your head back into the pillows and gasped as Toto thrusted into you, pulsating pleasure rushing through your body with every movement.

You didn’t know how you got to this point, the night was a haze of drinking, close dancing and longing looks but the one memory that stood out was the warmth of Toto’s hands against your hips, after that everything blurred up until this moment.

Your arm wrapped around the back of his neck, your hand burying itself into his hair as you tried to ground yourself but you were hopeless within the haze of his kisses against your throat and hands holding your thighs spread for him.

"Toto!"

His breath was heavy against your skin. "You feel so good, schatz." The guttural groan he released sent you feral, you tightened your grip on him and pulled him closer so your chests pressed against each other.

Your vision went white as Toto just grazed that sweet spot inside you with one particularly hard thrust before he angled his hips in a way that with each bruising snap of his hips he made, the tip of his cock would brush against you just right.

As you felt yourself approaching your release, your back arched and the air remained trapped in your lungs, your grip tightened on Toto’s hair causing him to groan into your neck while your other hand shot up behind you and grabbed onto the headboard.

Just as you were at the precipice of your release, Toto reached down and circled your clit with his fingers providing the last bit of stimulation needed for you to let go and dive into a river of overwhelming pleasure.

The sight of your face completely blissed out made Toto’s cock harden more inside of you, he continued to thrust and work you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own, chasing his release as he felt his body fill with an indescribable need to continue rutting into you.

The groan of relief he let out followed by a warmth in your core brought you back to reality, Toto allowed his body to collapse onto your own and simply lay there as he caught his breath and recovered from his own orgasm.

Your hand continued to run through his hair, grounding his mind to reality and encouraging him back from his high.

Moments later, Toto removed himself from you and curled up behind you, wrapped an arm across your stomach and pulled you into his chest.

Both still feeling the haze of the alcohol in your systems, no words needed to be spoken between the pair of you as you both succumbed to much needed sleep.

You woke up feeling as though your brain was swelling beyond the capacity of your skull and dehydrated to the point you felt like you could drink about forty litres of water.

Every part of your body ached as you moved beneath the covers, flashes of last night flickered through your mind causing you to groan at the reminder of your drink choices.

You were definitely regretting it now.

A particular memory caused you to pause and look beneath the sheets, grimacing as you realised you were naked.

Then you froze, Toto.

Your head shot to the side and instead of laying your eyes upon your boss’ 6ft5 frame you were greeted by an empty half of the bed with only crumpled white sheets.

Your heart dropped as you looked around the room, there was no indication that anyone else had been here but the ache between your legs made it very clear that last night did in fact happen.

He had left.

After an entire season of fighting with your feelings and the way he made you feel, you had given in to him only for him to leave.

You felt sick and dirty and disgusting and used.

You pulled yourself into the shower and tried to to push down the need to cry but you were filled with an overwhelming sense of betrayal and couldn’t stop the rogue fear that fell down your cheek.

Waiting to board the plane back to England, you looked down at your phone, you had a feeling Toto was already there by now and you had messaged him ages ago but no response.

Had you been crazy believing that he could have feelings for you?

You were so mad at yourself for being as affected as you were by his actions, it felt like someone had your heart in their fist and found amusement in squeezing it, filling you with the need to just let go and allow your emotions to flow freely.

You didn’t need to be back at the factory until after Christmas so you went straight home and unpacked your bag before repacking to go and spend your time off in Switzerland with your family, Toto still hadn’t responded and you were positive he was just ignoring you now and you didn’t try to get a response.

You’d deal with that after Christmas.

Normally you’d wait a week or two after the season ended to go back home but you really had no reason to stay, you’d changed your mind on attending the FIA awards which had confused Mick when you told him but he could tell something was wrong and chose not to pry.

You seriously didn’t think the year could get worse, you were so wrong.

The last three weeks in Switzerland had been hell to put it lightly, Christmas was just around the corner but it was hard to be excited when you had caught the sickness bug, the amount of time you spent in bed throwing up was disgusting at this point and the coddling of your family wasn’t helping.

You knew they loved you but you wish they’d just leave you alone to wallow in misery.

Toto was still a lingering thought in the back of your mind and it was only adding to how rubbish you felt but you hadn’t made any other attempt to get in touch, he hadn’t tried either so you knew where you stood with him and that was enough.

New years had passed and you were now back in England to go back to work, you had never dreaded going to work in all the years you’d worked for Mercedes so the unsettling feeling in your stomach was new.

But that could also just be nausea.

You still hadn’t completely recovered from your sickness over the holidays, you were no longer bed bound but the urge to throw up and the loss of appetite was still there, the loss of weight was visible in the sickly paleness of your face so you had booked a doctors appointment for the upcoming Friday.

Your stomach churned as you walked through the doors of the Mercedes headquarters, as the daughter of Michael Schumacher you got a lot more attention in the building as you would’ve if you were just a race engineer so the nods from almost everyone as you walked in weren’t strange to you but the sympathetic looks were.

You hoped it was just because you looked as if you hadn’t seen sun for the past ten years.

Deciding to stop by hospitality on the way to your office for a bottle of water, you paused in the doorway at the sight of Toto and didn’t hesitate to turn right back around before your mind even processed his presence.

You got a few funny looks by the people in there but you truly didn’t care.

It stayed like that for the rest of the week, whenever you found yourself in the same room as your boss there was no time wasted before you left even if there were still things needed to be done in that room, you didn’t even try to be subtle about it either.

As soon as he entered the room you immediately took your leave, it was rude but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care and you doubted he cared either.

You had taken the day off work today to attend your doctor’s appointment so thankfully you didn’t need to waste your efforts avoiding him.

"Symptoms are nausea, sickness and weight loss," The doctor listed and you nodded in clarification.

She looked at you knowingly, "When did your last cycle finish?" She asked.

You pulled a face and leaned your head back in thought, it was probably before Vegas, but that was….. your face grew even paler than it already was.

"November," you whispered, your body filling with complete and utter horror.

The doctor’s face grew sympathetic at your reaction, "and you’ve had unprotected sexual intercourse since then?" She asked though your face gave her the answer.

You were at a loss for words so you resulted in nodding; the idea of you being pregnant only made you feel more sick.

"Okay," she replied softly, "We’ll have you take a test to confirm."

You didn’t even register the next ten minutes, lost in your own mind as an emptiness settled within you, your chest ached with pain at the idea that your whole life could be changed in just a few short minutes.

"Miss Schumacher, are you okay?" The doctor asked worriedly.

You snapped back to reality and nodded numbly.

"The test came back positive, Y/N, so I’ll refer you to a midwife and during this time you should think about what you want to do, okay?"

How you didn’t crash on the way home was a miracle because you definitely weren’t concentrating, you carried your body straight to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, you looked like hell.

Just the sight caused your eyes to well up and this time you didn’t fight the emotions, you welcomed the tears and allowed the pain to consume you, the pain of realising just how alone you were in this moment.

You slid down against the bathroom door and curled yourself into a ball, buried your face into your knees and sobbed until you no longer could.

The weight in your chest was still present as you walked into work the following Monday but you no longer had any tears to spare, you had made up your mind about what your future would consist of and today would mark the beginning of it.

Knocking on the door to Toto’s office, you waited for confirmation to enter and he clearly hadn’t anticipated you on the other side from the look of surprise on his face but you didn’t mention it and closed the door behind you.

"We need to talk," you wasted no time in pleasantries and sat down in the seat opposite him.

"Is there a problem with the car?" He asked, his formal tone cut through you like a knife but you refused to show the effect it had.

You wouldn’t have thought the pair of you were friends just two months ago.

"There’s nothing wrong with the car," you told him.

"What do we need to talk about then?" He asked.

He was royally pissing you off with the way he was pretending to be ignorant. "We need to talk about what happened between us-"

"This is unprofessional," he interrupted and you scoffed in disbelief.

"Unprofessional?" You laughed in his face. "Do you know what else in unprofessional? Sleeping with your employee."

His face dropped at the bluntness of your words, "look, you shouldn’t be bringing private matters into the workplace."

"How else am I supposed to bring them up? Over text message where I never get a response?" You looked at him incredulously. "This is important-"

"I don’t want to hear it, Y/N," he cut you off harshly. "What happened between us shouldn’t have happened, it was a moment of weakness and it will never happen again."

You looked at him stone faced before nodding, "fine." You got up from your seat and left without another word, not bothering closing his door.

You didn’t go to your office, instead you went to HR.

Walking past the different offices you went straight for the head of HR. "Chloe?" You knocked on the door quietly, opening it once you received a response.

She smiled at you in greeting, "Y/N, can I help you with something?"

You nodded softly and sat down on the sofa she had against the wall. "How many holidays do I have?"

She looked at you suspiciously, "All of them, you didn’t put one in for Friday so that went unpaid."

"Okay," you muttered under your breath, "I want to cash them all in, starting from tomorrow."

"What?" She looked at you shocked. "Are you sure? If there’s something going on we can figure out a better solution for you."

You smiled and shook your head, "Uhm no I’m sure, I want to use them all and then after that I’ll be taking early maternity leave."

Chloe’s eyes widened in shock. "Wow, okay, congratulations."

"Thanks, I want to spend my pregnancy in Switzerland so you won’t see me around."

You could see that she had questions but didn’t ask them and you appreciated it, "I understand, I’m happy for you Y/N, I’ll get it all sorted for you."

"Great," you stood up and headed towards the door.

"Y/N?" You turned around, Chloe looked at you sincerely, "Give me a call if you need someone to talk to, yeah?"

You probably wouldn’t but you nodded and left.

To say Toto was surprised when he found out they were down their usual race engineer for the season was an understatement.

It was completely unexpected and he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t happy about it, George was not at all in agreement to having a new voice in his ear.

It wasn’t even for a couple races either, it was for the entire season.

No one in the team had any information on what had happened except two people, Mick and Chloe.

No one could ask Mick because he had left to do the world endurance championship and when Toto had went to ask Chloe all he got was a shrug and words that sounded as though they’d been read from the companies handbook.

"It’s against an employee’s confidentiality rights to discuss the matters with you, even if you are the boss, all I can tell you is she’ll be back at work next year."

Meanwhile, in Switzerland you were slowly but surely feeling much better.

You were putting the situation between you and Toto behind you, you were recovering and as you did, your bump grew and the sight made you smile.

The horror and fear you felt when you found out about your pregnancy had dissipated weeks ago, leaving you filled with excitement and love for the journey you had ahead of you.

With your mother and sister around you, the loneliness you felt had evaporated as well.

You were doing good and felt amazing and that’s all that mattered right now.

#formula one #motorsport #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x you #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfiction #angst

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ceilidho · 6 months

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prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)

He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”

The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.

“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.

“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”

The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke.

He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.

“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.

You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”

“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people.

He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together.

There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind.

Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?

Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.

He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”

The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”

“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”

He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.

“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”

Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”

“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”

Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer.

His bird really has the best ideas.

Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”

He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes.

They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home.

He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself.

It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge.

“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.”

You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company.

“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”

“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.”

“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.”

He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.

“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”

You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”

“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words.

“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.”

“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”

“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it.

“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”

That’s all his mutt needs to hear.

You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away.

You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach.

Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home.

This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done.

It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week.

“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?”

Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”

“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?”

He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist.

“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax.

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue.

“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”

He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out.

“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”

“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”

He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?”

He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard.

It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave.

“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #soap mactavish #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost/reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader

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luveline · 1 month

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hiii! i adore you jade so much and can’t thank you enough for all your amazing writing! your fics are incredible! can i have more reader and hotch with their new baby? maybe their night routine takeing care of their newborn? or literally just anything i just love the way you write hotch taking care of both babe and reader! thank you!! xoxo🤍🤍🤍

thank you for your request! fem

“Ready?” Jack asks.

“No. No, no, no!” you cry, giggles slipping through your facade as Jack pelts himself full force from the end of your bed to the pillows where you’re curled. You put your arms out just in time to avoid getting them snapped, catching Jack, and feeling the brunt of his face as he lands on your chest. “Oh! You broke me, Jack. I’m broken!”

“You’re not broken,” Jack says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You better not be breaking your stepmom, Jackers,” Hotch says from the bathroom. “I’m not getting you another one.”

“Boo!” you say.

“I don’t want another one,” Jack declares, still gasping for breath as he presses your faces together.

You pull him in for a cuddle. “Good, baby, I love you too much to be replaced. And I don’t mind dad either.”

“Jack, you gotta stop jumping on her, remember? She just had a baby. It really hurts to have a baby, and it hurts afterwards to get better. Gentle hands,” Hotch says, pulling the bathroom door open completely, the baby bathed and changed in his arms.

Hotch has cared for a baby before, so while you’re not useless, the majority of things have defaulted to him while you recover. You’re lucky, even if it’s how a woman should be treated —Hotch hasn’t made you get up once since you came home almost a week ago. He’s forced you to sit down a few times, actually. And you’d told him how thankful you were for it in whispers only yesterday night, grateful to be cared for with so much dedication.

I should've been better, for Haley, he’d whispered back. She was amazing all by herself when she didn’t need to be. You’ll be amazing too, but we’re gonna do it together.

Maybe he’s overcompensating for past regrets, maybe he’s just looking after you.

Jack strokes your cheek with a little hand. “Sorry. I don’t want to break you.”

“You won’t.” You lean back and attempt to bring him in with you, but Jack won’t be contained.

He springs down off of the bed to crowd Hotch’s legs, face up and smiling. “Dad, are you done?”

“I am.”

“Can you help with the robot now?”

“Yeah, yes. Sorry, I’m gonna fix your robot. You ready, honey?”

You open your arms eagerly. You’ve had a hug from Jack, and Hotch held you under his arm while you were eating your lunch, so all you need now for the trifecta is a cuddle with your baby. One day he’s gonna be able to hug you back, but for now he stretches out in the well of your arms and coos when you kiss his tiny forehead.

Hotch and Jack leave to fix their robot. You slink down, further and further, too tired and sore to want to sit, sliding the baby’s weight into one arm beside you and leaning down to watch him smack his lips. The few baths he’s had have made him tired each time. You feel sleepy just looking at him.

You’d hope that the baby will be handsome like his brother, though Jack looks so much like Haley they probably won’t be very similar. There are hints of Aaron in them both. Babies look like babies, sure, but he has the Hotchner nose. You can tell already.

“My handsome handsome boy,” you sing-song under your breath. He sniffles. You bring your pinky to his nose and give it a gentle touch. “Beautiful baby. I love you.” Your voice turns to sugar. “I love you, baby, you’re so beautiful, just like daddy.”

Footsteps creaking on the landing. You quieten without looking away from the baby, until you feel a familiar hand on your arm. “You okay?”

“Did you fix the robot?”

“Of course I did.” He leans down and in, lips and nose pressing to your arm. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I am tired. Maybe I’ll nap while he’s sleeping.”

“That’s a good idea. Give him a kiss and I’ll put him back in the crib.”

“No, no, can’t he stay?”

“You want me to stay here and watch you sleep?” he asks, laughing into your arm, pressing another kiss in a path toward your shoulder. “You can keep him until you fall asleep, okay? Then I’ll move him.”

“Will you do that thing to my cheek?” you ask quietly.

“If you tell me what you were saying before I walked in, yes.”

Hotch sits on the bed behind you where you’re sidled up to the baby, the back of his hand falling gently against your cheek, fingers curled and knuckles brushing the skin just shy of your eye one tender centimetre at a time. “Well?” he prompts.

You close your eyes with a contented smile. “Was just telling him he’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” He turns his hand, his pinky finger rubbing the delicate skin under your eye briefly, and the his palm flat to your face. His thumb takes up the guard. You feel fatigue pulling at you from the sheer comfort he offers, though you can manage a few more words, at least.

“He’s beautiful, he has his daddy’s nose.”

“I don’t think that’s what makes him so handsome.”

“No?” you mumble.

Hotch lets his face rest again on your arm. “No, that’s his mother. Couldn’t be anything else.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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cerisereids · 6 days

Text

𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 (𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲)- 𝗮.𝗵. [𝗽𝘁. 𝟮]

masterlist, part one

wc- 5.2k

pairing- aaron hotchner x fem!rossi!reader

summary- down on your luck after a huge betrayal, you return to live at your father's house with your tail between your legs. you're humiliated, thoroughly convinced nothing good could come from returning home. then you meet aaron hotchner.

warnings- sfw, age gap (27-mid 40s), i’m spreading the italian american agenda w rossi!reader, reader lowkey has daddy issues but they’re working on it, alcohol use, jack is 7, rich old italian people antics, we love bonding w jack, hotch and r turn each other on w brownies??, insane sexual tension

a/n- dividers from @saradika-graphics and @reveriesources !!!

aaron straightens his tie in the mirror one final time, smoothing his hands down the front of his navy suit jacket.

“jack! let’s go!” he calls up the steps, followed soon by footsteps pattering down the steps.

“i’m coming, dad!” he whines, his voice high pitched, but loving all the same as he exits his bedroom.

aaron can’t help the pride swarming deep in his chest as he looks at his son in his christmas best, clad in a perfectly tailored dark green suit that nearly mirrors his completely. the invite said formal, and aaron doesn’t think he did too poorly. he’d learned to dress himself for work long ago, therefore transferring that knowledge to his son has so far proven to be quite easy. so far.

“alrighty, after you, kiddo,” he smiles down at the boy and holds the front door open with his back. he attempts to find his keys, juggling everything from christmas bags to wine bottles in his grasp, until he feels small fingers reaching into his pants pocket.

“here,” jack states, deadpanned, keyring dangling off his index finger.

“thanks, buddy,” he smiles, “can you hit unlock for me?” he does, which allows aaron to finally free his hands and get them to the party in one piece.

the large house is already bustling, aglow with golden christmas lights laced through the large bushes out front, a jolly statue of santa welcoming whoever may cross the threshold. penelope lets them in, greeting him with a large hug that was no doubt induced by the hard eggnog jj makes every year.

“hi, penelope,” he smiles warmly down at her, pleased to be seeing the people he so deeply cares for in a positive environment, for once.

jack is quick to find henry, off to run amok throughout david’s expansive home. he sets the wine down on the wide kitchen island, cluttered with an array of appetizers, desserts, and various drinks. he pours himself a whiskey, and nearly drops the glass when he turns to exit, stopped in his tracks by her.

“hello, aaron,” the girl before him says gently. her manicured hands coil cunningly around her wine glass, red silk sculpting her figure in a way that makes his brain short circuit.

the sound of his name on her lips takes his breath away, and all he can muster is a hushed, “hi,” he’s unable to take his eyes off you.

his eyes can’t help but dip lower than he let them the other week, committing the peaks and valleys of her curves in that dress to memory. he’s thankful for the vibrant scene surrounding you in the busy kitchen, lest he made it unbearably awkward.

“whatcha got there?” she nods at his drink, and it zaps him back to reality like an electrical shock.

“oh!” he gasps, his gaze snapping down to his glass, “just-whiskey…it seems your father knows what i like,” he smiles sheepishly, his fingers patting against the cold glass.

“one thing italian men never mess around with is good liquor,” she smiles cunningly, stealing the remaining bits of breath from his lungs, “cheers,” she raises her glass to him and he clinks his against it, his eyes never leaving hers for one second.

“nice to see you, aaron,” she coos and places a soft hand on his forearm, wide doe eyes boring into his before exiting the kitchen. her hand lingers on him until it’s no longer physically possible, her nails scraping down his forearm as she goes. a shiver unzips down his spine, both at the touch, and at the sudden loss of her warmth.

“cheers,” he breaths out, after she’s gone. his eyes fall shut in the wake of her perfume, notes of jasmine and cedar left wafting through the air. he can’t help but take a quick inhale, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.

he plows five fingers through his hair before taking a large gulp of whiskey. he needs to get it together. what is he, 15?

a sly whistle approaching from his left keeps him from his spiral. his eyes jokingly roll as he sees derek saunter up to him, penelope close in tow.

“aa-ron hotch-ner,” derek stresses each syllable, clapping his hand on aaron’s shoulder.

aaron hides a smirk behind another sip of the brown liquid in his glass, the smokiness coating his throat.

“now what was all that about?” derek points a thumb in the direction she walked off on, an arm slung over aaron’s shoulder. he purses his lips, gaze tilted downwards to mask the hint of red dusting his cheeks.

“nothing. that was nothing,” he turns to look at derek, and he knows the glint in his eyes gives him away entirely.

“you sly dog,” derek nudges aaron’s shoulder with his own, before leaving him to refill his drink, now alone with penelope.

“sir…” she gives him a knowing stare, leaning her forearms against the kitchen island.

he holds up a finger, eyes wide in an attempt to delay the inevitable, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth, “penelope. don’t,” he asserts, but the childlike giddiness fluttering through his chest invokes a cheeky grin that prevents his sternness from having any real effect.

she lifts her finger, mirroring his, “sir…” she says again, higher pitched this time, a sense of urgency seizing her tone.

“penelope…” he repeats himself, urgent tone matching hers, his eyebrow quirking.

he catches the quickest flash of red from his peripheral, and he double takes, his attention immediately stolen by her lighting up the living room. his heart squeezes with a sudden urge to meet her there, to place his hand on the small of her back and revel in her story, to be there for her. it’s all he’d thought about since he met her, in her father’s kitchen, where he now stands once more.

ever since that godforsaken night, when he needed to borrow a globe of all things, he’s laid awake at night, grasping onto her soft vanilla scent. it was a complete contrast to the seductive aroma she spritzed on for tonight, though she was intoxicating no matter what. he thought of the alcohol on that wafted off her tongue, how badly he wanted to just lean down and taste it.

in his daze, he forgets penelope is there. she follows his line of sight and snaps her gaze back toward him, “sir!” she gushes, her tone incredulous. her smile is scandalous, but proud. it’s a knowing smile, one that knows exactly what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, something he doesn’t really quite know himself yet.

his eyes dart to either side before leaning into her slightly, “we never had this conversation,” he mumbles lowly, raising a pointed brow at her. her eyes widen, because this time, there was no smile masking his intensity.

the flared sleeves of your silk dress fall down your arm, showcasing your tennis bracelets. the gold and diamonds sparkle in the soft glow of golden christmas lights wound through the comically large christmas tree standing proud in the living room. you grasp the stem of your wine glass as you squeeze into the eager arms of uncles, cousins, and old family friends.

old, italian men take up every square inch of the living room, wine glasses in hand, all waiting with rapt anticipation to hear stories from new york. the pride in their eyes prods at your stomach like a fire iron.

you appease them anyway, indulging in emotionally safe memories, like the time you drunkenly walked across the street in the middle of times square just to get a slice of pizza.

that earns you a robust roar of laughter, and the sound reminds you of all the christmases you’ve spent in this very room. the smell of cigars they carry on their suit jackets, the wine that will inevitably stain their mustaches, it all invokes a pang of nostalgia coiling around your heart, squeezing until you’re near tears.

“look at you! our topolina all grown up!” your oldest uncle squeezes your cheeks together, and you gently clasp your free hand around his wrist.

“and she still manages to come see her papà for christmas!” another one of your uncles calls out in sarcastic annoyance. the low mumble of hearty chuckles fills the room, and you force a smile on your lips.

your heart twists around itself as you absorb the loving gazes of the men who have watched you grow, who have rooted for you from the moment you were born. a sinking feeling settles in your stomach, you can’t help but feel you’ve let them all down, you’ve let your father down, by returning here.

when you got accepted into nyu, your family was over the moon. they threw parties, you received gifts, money, one of your uncles even called his real estate buddy over in new york and cut you a deal on an apartment. guilt pools in your stomach like acid, because they don’t know. they don’t know you’re not just here for the holidays, they don’t know about your failure.

a small body knocks you out of your shame-spiral, and you nearly spill your wine on yourself.

“oh! i’m sorry, ma’am!” a young boy exclaims, reaching to pick up the pieces of the toy that clattered to the floor. you smile at the boy, he didn’t mean it after all. the furrow of his brows and stressed tone tells you that much.

“that’s okay, sweetie!” you squat down as much as you can in the silk encasing your body, helping him pick up any remaining pieces he missed, “here you go!”

“thanks!” he smiles toothily at you, and you can’t help but feel a pang of deja vu deep in your chest, like you’ve seen his face somewhere before.

it compels you to ask, “hey, what’s this all about?” referring to his, what seems to be very intricate, lego set.

“it’s a lego plane! could you please help me put it together again?” he grins at you, and you return it.

“of course!” you reply, eager to escape the guilt that’s swirling through your stomach like a whirl pool.

you and the boy, who’s introduced himself as jack, sit tucked in the corner of the living room, hidden by the expansive christmas tree. you click pieces into place and revel in the sweet boy’s satisfaction.

“you’re pretty good at this!” he exclaims, and you send him a sweet grin.

“thanks! i had lots of experience when i was your age,” you state in a light, airy voice, and he giggles.

“you don’t play legos anymore?” he inquires, so genuine and earnest your heart aches.

“no, i don’t. maybe i should, though,” you consider, handing him a piece of the wing.

“yeah, you totally should!” he replies, as if it were that easy to hold onto your childhood, “if you don’t play legos, what do you do for fun?”

you laugh at the insinuation in his tone, and ponder his question.

“i like to write…” you trail off, unsure of what else to say about that. luckily, jack solves your problem for you.

“you write for fun? my teacher makes me do that!” he scrunches up his nose and you laugh. it’s a genuine one, one that comes from your belly and throws your head back.

“would it make things better or worse if i said my other hobby is reading?” you jokingly raise a brow at the boy, and he groans in disgust, spurring on additional bouts of laughter from the both of you.

jack clicks the final piece into place, his eyes lighting up as he holds the finished product in the air, moving it above his head like an actual airplane.

“nice teamwork, man!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which he eagerly accepts.

“thanks for helping me! teamwork is key. that’s what my dad always tells me,” he states nonchalantly, eyes trained on the aircraft balancing delicately in his hands.

“your dad sounds like a smart man,” you smile, “you’re pretty lucky you got such a cool toy, too.”

“yeah, i am,” he smiles to himself, and his sincerity warms your heart, “my dad didn’t get me this, though. it’s from my uncle dave,” he states matter of factly, completely innocent to the information he just gave you.

“your uncle dave? like the man who threw this party uncle dave?” you verify, and he nods. your heart rate picks up as the puzzle pieces in your mind click into place. it couldn’t be. could it?

“jack?” you hear a familiar voice call, and your heart drops to your stomach, that final piece snapping into place. of course. “jack, where are you buddy?”

“right here, dad!” he leaps out from behind the tree and you reluctantly follow suit, nearly tripping over the hem of your dress in a weak attempt to stand.

you make eye contact with aaron once you’re stable on two feet. you’re unable to take your eyes off him, really. he takes pause when he sees you, and it’s like the world tilts off its axis, completely freezing in time. a hint of confusion laces his gaze, but it’s mostly masked by an air of desire as his eyes flit quickly over your frame once more. he lingers on your right hand, still clutching your wine glass, eyes darkening at the bracelets that dangle from your wrist. interesting.

the rustling of his son before him startles him out of his daze, and he plows ten (incredibly thick) fingers through his hair before he lets out a weak chuckle, “hey buddy!” he ruffles his son’s hair and the boy wraps his arms around his dad’s torso. fuck.

“what were you up to, my man?” he asks, kneeling to get to his level.

“i accidentally bumped into this nice lady, so she helped me put my plane back together!” he exclaims, beaming with pride as he shows his father the finished product.

“wow! well that was really nice of her,” his eyes snap up to meet yours quickly before going back to his son, the brief contact shocks your heart all the same, “did you say thank you?”

“yes, dad!” he whines, sounding a bit annoyed that his dad still thinks he has to ask him that. his petulant tone pulls a chuckle from your throat, and it causes both boys to turn their identical chocolate eyes onto you.

“he did, he was incredibly polite,” you gush, “we had lots of fun, didn’t we?” he nods enthusiastically, and aaron chuckles. the adorable high pitched noise makes your heart to thump against your chest, and you take a gulp of wine.

aaron knew where jack was all night. he always does. he caught a glimpse of his little feet poking out from behind the tree, fussing about his new lego set. the shine of red silk glimmered in the tree lights next to him, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

he made quick work of excusing himself to the back patio under the guise of ‘getting some air’. from there, he had a clear view of the other side of the living room, where she and jack were planted, clicking various lego pieces into place.

he watched as jack’s eyes lit up, the way she made him laugh. it made his heart thump against his chest, the way she connected with jack like it was breathing. it disarms him, stealing the breath from his lungs. she’s good at that.

he watches now-jack already off somewhere with henry- the display of her neck as she takes a swig of wine. it’s the merlot he brought, he can tell from the deep red staining her glossy lips. his eyes study them, her plump, pink lips. he wonders what her lipgloss tastes like, his mouth watering from his urge to taste her sweetness, to steal the oaky tang of wine off the tip of her tongue. the corner of her mouth ticks up in a sly smirk, and his eyes snap up to meet hers, her devious gaze telling him he’s been caught.

“thank you, for uh-for taking care of jack for a bit,” he puts his hands in his pockets, his gaze falling to the floor as he speaks.

“oh! anytime,” she chirps, “he’s a really sweet kid, you must be really proud,” she’s playing him like a fiddle, he nearly melts into a puddle on the spot.

“yeah, yeah, i am,” he nods, finally making eye contact with a small smile. she returns it, the sly glint escaping her, now replaced by a soft, gentle smile and kind eyes.

“we had fun…it was better than being grilled by family about my return home,” she states, washing it down with another sip of wine.

he chuckles at that, “fair enough,” he mutters.

she smiles at that, “yeah, he just grilled me about how i don’t play legos anymore, much less interrogative.” this earns a heftier chuckle from aaron, and her eyes light up, his laughter spurring on her own.

“that sounds like jack,” he nods, a wide grin stretching his cheeks.

“he’s a great kid, really. he must get it from his dad,” her voice is saccharine as her hand briefly grazes his forearm. it’s like he’s been struck by lightning.

a light gasp escapes his chest at the brief contact, and his cheeks burn, “i-i don’t know about that,” his voice is raspy as he speaks, quickly clearing his throat afterwards.

her hand settles on his forearm, she begins to take a step closer and tell him something, but what he ends up hearing comes from behind him.

“sir!!!” penelope squeals, and they both freeze, eyes wide, “you’re wanted in the kitchen!! group photo!!”

his lashes kiss his cheeks as his head drops back slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips, “coming!” he calls over his shoulder. he nods at you curtly before turning towards penelope, contempt pooling like acid in his stomach.

“you can flirt later,” she jokes so only they can hear, winking at him before going off to pose everyone properly for the photo. he looks down and chuckles to himself as he falls in line.

as the party began to wind down, the easier it was for you to sneak off to your own space. most of the guests had left hours ago, but the bau members remained huddled around the kitchen table till the early hours of the morning. around midnight, you’re able to excuse yourself to your room. you wiggle out of your dress and relieve yourself of your shapewear, sighing as you pull on your buttery sleep set- light pink pants that flare at the bottom, with a matching short sleeve top that softly hugs your frame.

you pad over to your en-suite and scrub your makeup off, serums and lotions shining on your skin. you throw your hair up in a claw clip and slide on your glasses. just because you’re comfortable, though, does not mean you’re turned in for the night. you return back down the steps to grab some wine and dessert, seeing as there’s leftovers scattering every square inch of the kitchen.

the party moved itself outside, surrounded by the fire pit in the generous backyard. you smile to yourself as you see the group huddled around, and you itch to join them. you study the smile pinching your dad’s cheeks, and you long to be a part of something that makes him so happy. you’re not sure if you’d be wanted, though, so you resort to desserts and wine littering the kitchen island. you settle in with a riesling and a tray of cookies and brownies on either side of you, and turn on the expansive television in your father’s kitchen.

the low hum of parks and rec fills the kitchen as you pop the cork of the wine bottle, not bothering to pour a glass as your lips touch the spout. your eyes flit to the sliding glass door gliding open to reveal aaron. you pause, holding the bottle in front of you as you gulp down what’s in your mouth.

“hi,” you smile as he enters slowly, his own spreading his lips.

“hey, you tired?” he inquires, brow stern but eyes soft. he’s changed too, donning a dark pair of jeans and a white t shirt that hugs his bicep in a way that send an electric shock right to your brain.

“yeah, just came down for a midnight snack,” you smile, talking quietly even though you were the only two people in the house, “you should come join me,” you take a risk, patting the seat of the stool beside you.

“yeah, that sounds nice, it was getting loud out there,” he jokes, smiling softly as he fills his water bottle at the fridge.

he moves to sit next to you, ice rattling in his gray water bottle as his legs swing around the stool, nestling close to yours. he steals the wine bottle from your grasp, his brows shooting up into his forehead with a cheeky smirk. you shamelessly ogle the way his lips press against the glass bottle, the throb of his adam’s apple as he swallows. he takes a thumb to his lips after he’s taken a sip, wiping any excess from his mouth. you wish you could’ve kissed it off.

“that’s good,” he smiles, the gloss in his eyes telling you this is far from his first drink of the night. you’re sure your own eyes tell a similar story.

“i know,” you smile back, taking a sip of your own.

“you know…” he begins, fiddling with a brownie he picked off the plate, “when i first saw you tonight, i didn’t think you could get any prettier. i was wrong. you look incredible right now,” he smiles, his teeth sinking into the gooey brownie.

“aaron-” you chuckle, cheeks heating up, “thank you,” you mutter, looking down at your lap, “thank you. i thought the same thing when i saw you. that suit was ridiculous, but i think the t shirt made my brain short circuit,” the alcohol has loosened your lips significantly, you don’t care one bit how embarrassed you’ll be in the morning.

“oh really?” he laughs at that, the apples of his cheeks flushing red, “i like that you like my $5 t shirt from target better than my armani suit,” he muses, taking another big swig of the wine bottle.

“i like that you’re the kind of guy who has $5 t shirts from target and armani suits in his closet,” you smile, your body fully turned towards him. you rest your head on your hand, elbow planted firmly on the kitchen island, gazing at him with a fiery adoration.

“variety is the spice of life, as they say,” he takes another big bite of brownie, and you wipe a spare crumb from the corner of his mouth. you bring your crumb covered thumb to your mouth, your plush lips wrapping around the tip to take a taste for yourself. he pauses, eyes blown wide, then gulps his brownie down as he absorbs your action with his hungry, dark eyes.

“is that why you decided to become a profiler? for the variety?” you quiz him, biting into a piece of a chocolate chip cookie.

“something like that,” he mutters, a smirk spreading on his lips as he pops the last bite of brownie in his mouth, “little birdie told me you’re a writer,” he nudges your shoulder with his own, “trying to be like your dad?”

the question pokes at the vulnerability lacing your heart and you adjust in your seat, wiggling around your discomfort, “something like that…” you repeat his earlier sentiment, and he chuckles.

“well, if you’re anything like him then you’re probably amazing,” he smiles, taking the bottle from you once more.

“thank you, it’s…complicated. i fell in with the wrong people, and i figured it out the hard way,” you press your lips together, and you can tell he wants to ask more. you’re thankful he doesn’t, seeing as you’re not particularly very eager to delve into the reason you’re running back to your father’s house with a man you’re irrevocably attracted to.

“it happens to the best of us,” is all he says, but he hooks his ankle around the leg of your stool, connecting it with yours. your tense muscles loosen at the contact, and you and aaron both smile quietly down at your hands, comfortable existing in a soft silence together.

“this is one of my favorite shows,” aaron mutters, nodding towards the tv, where leslie knope is desperately scrambling to put together the harvest festival.

you turn to face him once more in shock, “really? i didn’t strike you as a sitcom guy!” you exclaim. he turns to face you now, his right knee slotting in between your legs, his left closing in on the other side of your thigh. his legs are huge, it’s like you’re surrounded by fucking tree trunks. it’s so intoxicating, the topic of your conversation completely slips your mind.

“i’ve been watching sitcoms before you even knew what they were,” he smirks, his voice low, gravelly, but silky smooth at the same time. a shudder unzips down your spine at the feeling of his breath hitting your cheek, “i love my west wing and my sopranos, too, don’t get me wrong,” he nudges your shoulder with his, and the proximity makes you dizzy, “but in my line of work, i mean, i need something to get my mind off of it at the end of the day. this one is like chicken soup for your soul.”

you smile at that sentiment, eyes shining with fondness for the man in front of you. butterflies swarm your stomach when the warmth of his large hands seep through your shirt, warming your stomach. he’s got a gentle grip on either side of you, his gigantic hands covering as much skin as possible. he engulfs you completely, your senses on aaron hotchner overdrive. his spicy oak cologne mixed with his woodsy aftershave nearly renders you dumb as you let your body fall into his, your forehead resting against his. he rubs his thumb into your skin and your eyes fall shut, a soft ‘oh!’ escaping your lips.

“that was really pretty, honey,” aaron murmurs, and you just ache.

your eyes open and you pull back to see him staring at you, low lidded and hungry. you’re going to kiss him. there’s no way around it. except the wretched sound of the glass door sliding open once more.

you and aaron jump apart like you’ve been burned, and you thank your lucky stars your father was not entering the threshold. derek and penelope stand there, s’mores ingredients in hand, shit eating grins on their faces.

“well, well, well, we were wondering where you’d run off to…” penelope trails off, “everyone’s about to come in, so we thought you might need a little warning,” penelope’s tone is incredulous as she raises her brows suggestively, and derek wolf whistles as he puts the marshmallows back in the cabinet.

“nothing- it was nothing!” aaron trips over his words as he scrambles for his things. your eyes go wide as you watch him move in a flurry throughout the kitchen, grabbing his clothes and his leftovers. before long, he’s slipped his shoes on and flies right out the door.

the silence in the wake of the door slamming is thick, loaded. you sit there in shock, unable to take your eyes off penelope. what the fuck just happened?

“what the fuck just happened?” penelope squeals, as if she read your mind.

“i don’t know!” you scream back, palms reaching up to slap your face.

“i know what happened!” derek exclaims, “the boss man’s caught some feelings and it scares the hell out of him!” he points out like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

dread pools in your stomach, and you plop your head in the crook of your elbow resting on the island. you’ve been home for less than a month and you’ve already managed to self destruct, “oh god,” you groan.

the rest of the group came inside shortly after, promptly gathering their things and giving lengthy goodbyes to everyone that was still there. you shook hands with many of them on the way out, mustering the biggest smiles you could manage under the circumstances.

once you close the door, you gather your tried and true water, motrin, and toast, and curl up on the couch. you turn the tv on there, attempting to stay up until some of the alcohol wears off. sleeping is useless for you when you’re this drunk.

your head perks up from your cocoon of blankets and pillows when you hear the doorbell ring, followed by your father’s voice carrying down the steps, “i got it!”

he patters down the staircase and opens the door, and you just barely make out who it is, but you catch it all the same.

“hey, aaron!” your dad exclaims, and your eyes shoot wide open, “sorry i missed you when you left! everything alright?”

“yeah, yeah, jack missed me,” you could just barely hear him mutter from the porch, “but i believe he forgot his stuffed bear here, i’m sorry to be back so late. he couldn’t sleep.”

you see the bear, it lays by the tree, amongst a mess of wrapping paper. you leap off the couch and scoop it up, nervously pacing the living room.

“not at all,” your father’s voice carries from down the hall, “principessa, you can walk him out, right? i’m going to bed!” he calls down to you, and you muster out a weak, “yes!” in response.

aaron makes eye contact with you from the kitchen, and he slowly saunters into the living room. you stare at each other for a moment, and you forget you’re holding his son’s bear until his eyes drop down to it.

“oh!” you gasp, holding your hand out, “here! it was just under the tree-”

you’re cut off by his hands on your face, pulling your lips in to crash against his. the kiss steals the breath from your lungs, and you snake your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. you pull back for small moments, before diving back in to place quick, sloppy kisses on his mouth. he chases after your lips like he’s starving for them, and it makes you feel 10 feet tall. he punctures your lips with his once more in a long, heated kiss. he cradles your jaw in his hands as he attacks your lips, licking into your mouth ever so slightly.

he pulls away from you with a gasp, and you feel the loss of his warmth like a gut punch, “thank you,” he mutters, breathless, but completely dead pan, before storming out of the home for the second time that evening, leaving you gasping for breath and flustered beyond belief. what. the fuck. just happened?

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minswriting · 15 days

Text

Our Little Secret - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

About: You had always been attracted to your new step father since the day your mom brought him home. He was an attractive older man. He treated your mother well, despite not being home enough. But that didn’t matter too much since your mother was rarely home either. You knew that you shouldn’t feel some sort of way about your step-father. But what happens when he comes home from a rough case and seems to want you too?

Warnings: Step-daughter/step-father dynamic, NSFW, MDNI, 18+ content, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc.

Word Count: 3200

Note: This may suck a bit but i hope you all enjoy!

Your relationship with your mother wasn’t the greatest, truthfully. Your mother left your father when you were ten years old, leaving him alone to work full time and take care of his daughter. But when he passed away when you were fifteen, about eight years ago, due to cancer, your mother had taken you in because you had nowhere else to go. While she wasn’t abusive, the two of you fought quite often as you held a lot of resentment against her for leaving you and your father. And now, you were twenty-three, still living with your mother as you went through college because it was the easiest thing to do.

When you first laid eyes on Aaron Hotchner, it was a year after his wife had passed away. He had met your mother and the two had gotten engaged rather quickly, exclaiming that the two of them didn’t want to wait when they didn’t have to. They were both adults interested in one another. And Aaron was just glad that Jack had taken a liking to you almost immediately.

You had always been attracted to Aaron. He was an attractive man. He was a great father to Jack, looked amazing in a suit, he was kind and respectful. Not to mention the authoritative voice he took when he answered his work calls never failed to cause you to clench your thighs. It’s wrong of you to be attracted to your step-father. It’s taboo. And yet you couldn’t help it. You had spent many nights fingering yourself to the thought of your step-father fucking you so ridiculously good.

It was a Friday night. Jack was at a sleepover with one of his friends, your mom was on a work trip as she works as a traveling sales representative, and Aaron was on a case in New York, leaving you home alone for the night. You had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt and went downstairs to do your college coursework on your laptop.

As you worked on an essay for your psychology class, you heard keys turning in the front door, signaling that someone was home. You looked up from your computer as you were sitting on the couch to see Aaron walking in looking exhausted and stressed. “Hey,” you greeted softly.

Aaron looked over at the couch, giving you a small smile. “Hey,” he greeted back, placing his bag down before walking over to the couch and sitting down next to you. “How’s everything going?” he asked, getting himself comfortable. His legs were spread, his knee touching yours unintentionally. But you made no effort to move away.

“Everything is good,” You replied, closing your laptop and placing it onto the coffee table. “Jack is at Pete’s house for the night. His mom will be taking him home in the morning. Mom’s still on her work trip for another week. And I was just working on an essay.” You took a deep breath, looking at Aaron. “How was the case?”

Aaron sighed, running a hand over his face. “It was certainly…something,” he said exhaustedly. “It was truthfully a rough one. It involves kids and those are always so hard.” You nodded in understanding, not really sure of what else to say. “How come you’re not out on a Friday night?” Aaron asked, looking at you with a curious look.

“Didn’t really feel like it,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. “My boyfriend asked me to go out but…I just didn’t feel like seeing him tonight.”

“Did something happen?” Aaron asked.

“Just a dumb argument a few days ago,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Nothing important.”

Aaron hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you even love him?” he asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion about the question. “What?” you asked, looking at your step father.

Aaron looked at you expectedly. “Do you even love him?” he asked again. “You are in this relationship and yet your body language shows that you’re not that interested in him.”

“Is that really any of your business?” you asked defensively.

“It is when your attention seems to be on me,” Aaron replied smoothly. He adjusted himself so that he was closer to you ever so slightly. His arm was draped on the top of the couch.

Your cheeks became hot as you looked at your step-father, unsure of what to say or what to do. “I-I have no idea what you mean,” you exclaimed, very clearly a lie though you didn’t want to admit that.

“Oh but I think I do,” Aaron said, quirking his lip. “I see the way you look at me, y/n. With those beautiful eyes, you look at me with longing, desire, and admiration. As though I am the thing you need and want most.” Aaron’s tone was soft but knowing. He was a profiler. He could likely tell you things about yourself that even you didn’t know.

“What about it?” You whispered, your attention focused on him completely. Your heart raced with anxiety. You weren’t quite sure what to do. Aaron’s words were true. You had desired him since the day you laid eyes on him. But it wasn’t right. It was taboo. Which is why you never thought that Aaron would ever feel the same or even acknowledge your thoughts.

Aaron’s arm moved to your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. His other hand went to your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I look at you the same way,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning your cheek.

Hearing these words made your heart flutter and heat pool near your thighs. Your mother and step-fathers relationship had been a bit strained from the beginning. They sort of rushed into it, only caring about the fact that they didn’t need to worry about one another too much since neither one of them were home that much. The rare times they were both home, they acted like a perfect couple for a few days until reality settles in and they’re stuck with one another. But you never thought that Aaron would ever feel a type of way about you.

Without any other words spoken, Aaron softly placed his lips onto yours. It took you a moment to process what was truly happening. Your step-dad was kissing you. Something you’ve longed for quite a while was finally happening. And after a few moments of shock, you kissed Aaron back. For what started off as soft and innocent quickly turned hot and heated as Aaron’s hand began to roam your body. You found yourself moving onto his lap, sitting on top of him as you cupped his face. One of his hands landed on your hip while the other entangled in your hair.

You felt heat going straight to your core, dampening your panties. You couldn’t help but crave friction. While kissing Aaron, you tentatively moved your hips against his, grinding your cunt onto his clothed bulge. The both of you let out soft moans of pleasure, Aaron’s fingers digging into your hip. He pulled away from the kiss to look up at you, placing his other hand on your other hip. “Can you feel just how much I want you?” he asked in that same soft tone as before as he grinded you on his cock again.

You let out a soft moan, nodding your head. “Yes,” you replied. “Take me to bed?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Of course, princess,” Aaron replied. He moved you off of him to stand up before picking you up bridal style and carrying you up the stairs. You held on by wrapping your arms around his neck. He brought you to his bedroom, the one he shared with your mother, placing you on the edge of his side of the bed. He leaned down, still standing as you were sitting, and placed his lips on yours once more.

One of his hands roamed your body, landing on your right boob as he massaged the skin through your shirt. You gasped into the kiss, the sensation sending sparkes to your cunt. Aaron pulled away from the kiss, moving to grab the hem of your shirt before pulling it off of you, revealing your flesh to him. You hadn’t worn a bra after getting out of the shower as you didn’t expect anyone to be home tonight.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron said, moving a piece of your hair out of your face before leaning back down to kiss you. His hand massaged your skin, rolling your nipple around with his thumb. You let out a moan into Aaron’s mouth, unable to help yourself from making the noise.

After a few minutes of massaging both of your breasts, Aaron’s fingers trailed lower, reaching the waistline of your shorts. He pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a serious face. “If you want me to stop, now would be the time to do so,” He exclaimed.

“Please don’t stop,” you responded, looking up at Aaron with a lustful gaze. “I-I need you so bad,” you admitted, blushing in slight embarrassment.

“Good girl,” Aaron replied, moving his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and panties. His praise caused you to let out a whimper. “You like being called that, don’t you?”

You nodded your head in response.

Aaron simply hummed in acknowledgement, running a finger down your slit to feel your wetness. “God, you’re soaked,” he whispered in awe. “All for me, princess?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered back, the name just falling out of your mouth without any thought.

You hadn't even realized you said it until Aaron let out a groan. “Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. Those two words sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock as he processed what you had said. “I’ll give you anything you want, darling. You’re being such a good girl for me.” And with that, he began to rub your clit.

You let out a low moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you did so. Aaron moved himself so that he was sat behind you, his hand still on your clit while your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around you, leaning in to kiss your neck. His finger went from your clit to your hole, spreading your wetness around before easing a finger inside of you. You whined at the feeling, letting out a soft “daddy,” in pleasure.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said into your skin. He began moving his finger slowly inside of you, teasing your pussy. Your soft moans were like music to Aaron’s ears as he played with your cunt. He eventually added a second finger, stretching you out slightly as he quickened his pace. He hooked his fingers, hitting your g-spot and causing you to jolt and arch your back.

“O-oh fuck,” you moaned, placing a hand on Aaron’s thigh. “Oh my god.”

If you had asked yourself earlier in the day if your step-father would be finger fucking you right now, you likely would’ve laughed. But here you are, getting finger fucked by the man you’ve only thought about, never thinking it would actually happen. The room was filled with the sounds of your wet cunt as Aaron sped up his fingers. You were writhing in his arms, your head rested on his shoulder.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured into your ear, his hot breath on your skin. “I’ve dreamt about doing this,” he began to speak. “Every time I come home from a case and you’re just sitting there in your pajamas, focused on your coursework, looking so beautiful.” Aaron’s other hand moved to your left boob, massaging the skin. “When you’d stretch and let out a small moan, it never failed to make me want to bend you over and take you right then and there.”

You whined in response, his words, the added pleasure, the repeated movements of his fingers inside of you, it was all so much. You felt that familiar heat building in your abdomen as your orgasm slowly approached. “Don’t even get me started on that vacation we took a few months ago,” Aaron continued. “That skimpy bathing suit that barely hid anything when we went to the beach,” His voice was very attractive and soft as he spoke. “Couldn’t help but touch myself that night in the shower to the thought of you while your mother was just in the other room.”

“Daddy,” you moaned, your breathing becoming heavy and shaky. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, baby,” Aaron replied, moving his digits inside of you faster. “You’re doing so good.”

Your walls clenched around Aaron’s fingers as your orgasm came over you. Your thighs clamped together as you arched your back against Aaron, whining and moaning as you came. Aaron fingered you through your orgasm, coaxing you through it. And when you finally came down from your high, Aaron gave you soft kisses along your skin, calming you down.

“Daddy,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “Need your cock,” you turned your head to look at Aaron, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“And you’ll get it, baby,” Aaron hummed, turning his face to kiss you on the lips. He let go of you, standing up from his spot behind you. “Take your shorts off for me.” He said as he began unbuttoning his shirt. You obliged, pulling down your shorts and tossing them to the side, leaving you fully nude. You bit your lip, looking up at Aaron with doe eyes.

Aaron tossed his shirt to the side before moving to unbuckle his pants. He tossed his belt to the side, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxer briefs. You let out a small whimper as Aaron’s cock sprang out. He was about seven inches but he was quite girthy, definitely bigger than your previous partners. “You’re so big,” you whispered, looking at his cock.

Your words caused Aaron to chuckle. “Am I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. “Glad you think so, princess.” He walked back over to the bed as he kicked his pants away. “Lay on your side for me.”

You nodded your head, laying down on your side, your head on the pillows. Aaron moved your leg, holding it up slightly as he kneeled on the mattress, straddling your other leg. He rested your leg on his thigh, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your pussy. He brought the tip to your clit before moving it down, spreading your wetness onto his cock. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the sheets. His cock moved to your hole, slowly probing at your entrance. You moaned at the intrusion, feeling the stretch in your cunt. Aaron hissed in pleasure as your walls enclosed around his member.

Tears formed in your eyes at the sting. Aaron leaned down to kiss your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to relax you. When Aaron bottomed out, he stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. After a few minutes, the pain subsided. “Y-you can move,” you said.

Aaron began to slowly thrust, moving his hips out before moving back inside of you. The both of you let out moans as he settled into a slow rhythm. “You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Aaron groaned.

“So big, daddy,” you whined, burying your head into the pillow. Aaron’s cock filled you up so good, hitting in spots you had never felt before. “Never been so full.”

Aaron moaned softly, leaning down to capture your lips with his as he thrusted his hips. His cock grazed your g-spot, going deeper inside of you, causing you to let out a choked moan. “O-oh fuck,” you moaned against Aaron’s lips. “F-faster, please.”

And he obliged. He moved his hips at a faster pace, putting a hand in your hair and tugging at the strands. You started to moan louder, your eyes fluttering shut as Aaron’s cock plunged in and out of you. “You’re so perfect,” Aaron exclaimed, breathing heavily. “Being such a good girl for me.” Aaron started thrusting into you harshly, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “Mine,” he said, leaning down to nip at your neck.

“All yours, daddy,” you whined. “Always yours.” The moans leaving your mouth were whorish as his cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars. You turned your head to bury it in the pillows.

That was until Aaron gripped your hair, yanking your head back a bit. “Look at me while I fuck you,” he said, his voice rough and filled with desire. You obeyed, turning your head to look up at Aaron with your beautiful eyes. His brown orbs were on you as he fucked you, his pace almost brutual.

The sensation of his cock pounding into you made tears of pleasure well up in your eyes, making you let out a sob. “Daddy,” you sobbed in pleasure. “it’s too much, too much.” you babbled.

Aaron cooed, running a soothing hand through your hair. “You can take it,” he replied, not relenting up. “Be a good girl and take it.” Aaron groaned.

The repeated assault onto your g-spot made your abdomen tighten as you felt your orgasm approaching. “So close,” you whimpered.

“Me too, baby, me too.”

And with just a few thrusts, you were clenching around Aaron’s cock, cumming for the second time that night. Aaron hissed in pleasure, letting out a moan as he followed suit, cumming inside of your cunt. You babbled as you came, letting out a mantra of “oh my gods” and “daddy” as Aaron moaned out sweet nothings.

When you both finished, the both of you were breathing heavily, Aaron still inside of you. He kissed your cheek. “You did so good,” he murmured.

As you came down from your high, Aaron pulled out, laying down next to you. He wrapped an arm around you, putting his other arm underneath your head and pulling you close to him. You turned towards him, laying your head on his chest. The both of you were silent, not saying a word as you processed what had happened. Your step father just fucked you into oblivion.

So what happens now?

“What does this mean for us?” You murmured softly, glancing up at Aaron’s face.

Aaron gave you a small smile, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “Well, we can continue as we were and pretend as though this didn’t happen,” he murmured back. “Or we can keep this a secret and explore what this is.”

“Our little secret?” You asked.

“Our little secret, princess.”

And so, that’s what it was. Your own little secret with your step-father. And thus your intimate relationship began.

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