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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

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ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.

୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

let’s get one thing straight.

not all daddy’s girls are dumb.

on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.

but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.

perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.

it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.

and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.

“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked.

it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree.

you were such a good person.

turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…

“can i come?”

with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.”

“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.

rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.”

you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).

however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with.

instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried.

“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?”

“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips.

megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him.

you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan.

he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice.

fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.”

he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too.

you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it?

megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time.

finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”

the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.

the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.

your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress!

the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi.

he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head.

“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.”

like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.”

fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?”

“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.”

“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.”

flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips.

“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly.

you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.

everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal.

this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body.

“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“

he lets go of your wrists.

tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree.

“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.

you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company.

“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…”

he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.”

fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”

it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now.

“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.”

his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.

“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?”

the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.”

heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly.

“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze.

the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.”

you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more.

“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?”

“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.

he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.”

fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.”

he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him.

because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all.

“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.”

the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later.

pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?”

he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease.

they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you.

“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers.

he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.

tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.”

you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.

you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last.

“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs.

a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.

“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.

you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless.

now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today.

your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself. “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.”

his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand.

“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself.

this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?”

you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there.

“fuck…yes.”

“and you won’t touch me?”

“not until i’m satisfied, princess.”

and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs.

“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”

he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.

even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.

“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”

megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.

one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.

each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.

“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.

sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.

“s-shut up.”

“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.”

he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.

you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.”

you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.

you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs.

clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much.

“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?”

nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.

he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi.

your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.

there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb.

“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”

your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.

“f-fuck, g-gumi!”

fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you. “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.”

your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.”

fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.”

the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.

he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you.

“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit.

“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.”

megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response.

“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”

“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”

the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.

your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.”

despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.

“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.”

that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.

“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.”

he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.

“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect.

“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.

he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.”

your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?”

“really. if it means that much to you.”

sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.”

“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?”

“maybe.”

“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest.

you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight.

except this time, you’re not as clueless.

you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.

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lay-z · 12 days ago

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cotton candy clouds | 5

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samoyed (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts/personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; slow-burnish; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff/domesticity; humour; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Mind the warnings for each chapter!)

☁ ccc; masterlist

The match is still on after dinner and Simon only objects a little before he lets you usher him out of the kitchen to clean and fill up the dishwasher—the one he’s barely used since moving into this flat once he’d reached the rank of Lieutenant. It’s only ever been him, after all, and his diet mostly consists of MRE’s on and off duty or the occasional takeout treat—and those plastic dishes he simply throws away when he’s done.

Simon doesn’t question it this time when you ask him if you can take a shower, at least you’ve already stopped asking for permission to use the guest bathroom to relief yourself, but knowing the only shower is in the en-suite bathroom to his bedroom, makes him bristle.

It’s not like has anything physical to hide from anyone, quite the contrary. There are no old family pictures to study, nothing to snoop for between his sparse wardrobe. He’s already taken off his mask in front of you, deciding it doesn’t matter if someone as simple-hearted as you sees his mug or not.

So, he lets you use his bathroom, because he has no other choice and he’s not going to send you to the communal showers at the base gym, knowing he’d have to at least take you there as your… handler; making sure no one bothers you and all that shite.

The grip around the bottle tightens as he thinks about the soldiers coming and going to that gym, thinks about the ones who would definitely attempt to chat you up, charm you. A vein in his temple throbs and Simon takes a drink of beer to soothe the sudden churning in his stomach.

Some time passes. His beer bottle, now emptied, rests on the coffee table along with his socked feet crossed at his ankles. His team, Man United, is winning 3:0 against Newcastle, the faint smell of food is still lingering in the flat comfortingly, his belly is full, and his head is pleasantly—and surprisingly—quiet, so Simon allows himself to sink further into the couch cushions, his arms crossed in front of his chest self-soothingly while his head tips back against the headrest.

It feels oddly relaxing, this whole new atmosphere, no matter how mundane it might be, it's big to someone as awkward as him, and even the knowledge about having another person inside his flat, albeit demi-human, isn’t too terrible. A strange comfort lies there—knowing he isn’t alone right now. Perhaps this isn’t going to be so bad, perhaps he can work with it all, with you. He’s managed worse before.

There’s some faint commotion eventually; the shower turning off, doors opening and closing softly, followed by the pussyfooting of you walking down the hallway towards the living room.

Simon is too distracted by the added match time and too relaxed on top of that, when you finally flop down on the couch next to him; flooding his nose with a pleasant whiff of warm shower steam and some fruity body wash or shampoo which you definitely didn’t find in his shower but brought along with you instead, and only when something is suddenly gently placed on his thigh, he realizes the state of undress you’re in, and he does a double-take while his heart drops into his stomach at once.

With your back slightly angled towards him, you’re towelling off your hair, only draped in one of his larger towels that clings to your body—casual as ever while his eyes widen and his first instinct kicks in to scoot over to the other end of the couch. His eyes flicker down to the floor as the object drops onto the carpet—a rather fancy looking hairbrush with black bristles and a polished, wooden handle.

Peeking over your shoulder, you shoot him a puzzled yet amused look. “Are you alright, Simon?”

That question alone pisses him off for some reason, makes him even more flustered, and you have the audacity to giggle at his reaction. His eyes drink you in briefly—involuntarily—and he catches the way your tail rucks up the towel, sopping wet white fur lightly dripping on the leather while the curve of your bare ass cheek peeks out; all supple and plump and—fucking hell—is that a birthmark?

He swallows thickly; his heart begins thudding so hard, he can feel it in his throat while a sudden jolt of arousal, a sensation he long thought dormant, goes straight to his groin, causing him to jump into action.

“What’s wrong?” you ask delicately, brows furrowing in a way of genuine concern for him that makes his chest feel tight. “You don’t… want to brush my hair? Groom my fur?”

His breath rushes out of his lungs with a humourless laugh. “Whot? N-No! ‘course not! Why the bloody hell would I want to do that?” He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to regain composure and will away the pulsing warmth continuously gathering in his lower belly.

“Oh.” Your dog ears droop as you clutch the towel around your chest, shifting in your seat to face him directly, gazing up at him with those bright doe-eyes that can probably disarm any other man while Simon has taken a few measured steps backwards to create some distance as if you’re a king cobra about to strike.

Still trying to get a grip on himself, Simon takes a deep breath before inquiring: “Seriously, lass, why–why would you even ask me that?” And as soon as the question is out, he can practically see the invisible question mark appear above your head in the way you tut, fiddle with the hem of the towel just above your knees, blinking slowly as you process his words.

“I mean–” you give a small shrug, “I just… assumed you’d want to do it like–”

Like the previous wankers who owned you, Simon fills in the gap in his head, jaw clenching and fists balling tightly in anger.

Then you flash him a sugary smile, which only makes it all worse. “They wanted to brush my hair and fur for me. Ryan always said it calms him down.”

“And I assume they dressed ya, too? Bought ya all this shite they wanted you to wear?” Simon brings forward through clenched teeth, knowing the answer to that already. His arousal is replaced by a hot ball of fury that coils in his guts and simmers through his veins. If he could only get his hands on them, he’d break them in half in a heartbeat.

Your lips part with a silent gasp, damp furry ears twitching atop your head nervously. “Simon, are you… Are you mad at me?”

His face twists into a grimace at that. Of course not! How could he ever be mad at you for something you clearly had no control over? He shakes his head, swallows the angry bile rising in his throat.

“No, ‘m not mad at you,” he rumbles, dragging his rough palm over his face to keep his eyes from wandering along the curve of your bare shoulders as you continue to sit on his couch in a simple towel. “I’m gonna take a shower. You stay here,” he adds gruffly, keeping his darkened eyes averted as he gazes down the hallway towards his bedroom, “–and get dressed.”

The bathroom door shuts with force, causing the glass shower cabin to rattle and the remaining steam from your previous shower to swirl around him. His hand is trembling with adrenaline as he locks the door swiftly; his breathing choppier now that he’s alone.

Fucking hell, why is his heart beating so fast?

It’s nothing and it certainly means nothing, Simon keeps telling himself as he turns on the shower and twists the handle until the temperature turns cold. Nothing he can’t handle. He’s Ghost—he has defeated death more times than he can count.

He can handle a bloody hard-on, but—oh god—it smells like you in here, like you’ve marked your territory, the dog that you are, and force him to deal with it now.

Stuck in his paranoia, Simon checks the lock on the door again before he begins shedding his clothes and dropping them half-heartedly on the tiled bathroom floor. His breathing becomes more ragged the more skin he reveals and by the time he pulls his boxer briefs down, he almost feels dizzy now that all the blood has rushed to his groin.

His chest heaves as he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when his throbbing cock is freed; bobbing with its hefty weight and stiffness, making his stomach churn hotly with pleasurable sensations with every step when he moves to enter the shower cabin.

The icy shower spray hits his flushed skin, and he bites back and swallows a low groan. A violent shudder wrecks through his body, pebbling his skin with gooseflesh and making him all too aware of all his scars littering and criss-crossing his body as the raised flesh tightens and tingles with phantom pain.

Resting his head on the cold shower wall, Simon lets his eyes squeeze shut and exhales a shuddering breath while the water rains down on him mercilessly, cooling down the heat in his veins and the urge simmering in his loins; his hands clench and unclench at his side, struggling not to reach out and touch himself—struggling not to cave and submit to his most primal urges.

He feels like he’s losing it—this precarious yet perfected control he’s been leaning on since everything has fallen apart around him for the first time—and he cannot let that happen.

His eyes flutter open when the image of you sneaks into his eye, torturing him. “Fuckin’ h–hell,” he mutters under his breath as he watches his cock twitch tauntingly.

The cold shower helps, but Simon can still feel himself reeling internally; his mind a disastrous frenzy while he gets dressed in a hurry, eager to cover himself up as he fears the slightest gust of wind over his skin might tip him over the edge this time. He goes as far and holds his breath in his bedroom before deeming it useless—you’ve already left your scent everywhere, and he can’t escape.

When emerges from his bedroom, dressed in a black hoodie and an old pair of sweats, he finds you sitting on the couch, wearing the shirt he’d given you in a fit of generosity, grooming your damp tail with the brush he’d previously dropped like a landmine.

“You’re sleepin’ in m’bed tonight,” Simon announces like giving an order, though he’s scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m takin’ the couch.” And before you can open your mouth to speak, he already interjects: “Don’t ask, jus’… do as I say, lass.”

It’s easier than he expected it to be until he remembers that’s what you do—following your nature. Following orders, obeying, and submitting. He can’t say he hates it that much right now, though his own thoughts disgust him. In the back of his mind, Simon even hopes you would ask him why, perhaps even argue with him about his sudden change of mind, but you don’t, and he is grateful for your blind obedience in this moment.

And there it is again, that look you’ve already shot him once last night and a second time when he left you at Price’s office; jutting your bottom lip out like that, literally giving him puppy eyes while your ears droop along with your bloody tail. The picture of vulnerable and sadness, as if he’d just kicked you out onto the streets.

“We can share the bed,” you remark softly, though it sounds more like half a question. “I don’t mind.”

“Aye, but I do.” Simon objects swiftly, then clears his throat awkwardly.

It doesn’t take too long for Simon’s self-control to snap at last once you retire to his bedroom.

As soon as he settles down on the couch for one of those restless nights when the TV must keep running and sleep won’t come to him until the first rays of dawn peek through the cracks of these old curtains.

And now, he is keeping his eyes trained on the telly, the ceiling, the fucking dust collecting on the drapes covering the window—anywhere but the pathetic sight of his weeping prick currently grasped in his hand; pre-cum drooling from his ruddy tip and mixing with his spit while he squeezes his shaft harshly, pulling back his foreskin until his back arches with something like a choked whine, and tiny electroshocks of pleasure running up and down his spine, making his toes feel numb and his chest feel tight like he has been put in a straitjacket.

Always so rough with himself, though he can’t even mind the callouses on his hand as he fists his cock faster, feeling his heavy balls draw up tight already, almost painfully. “Fuck–oh fuck–” he huffs through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring and jaw locking up with the effort to keep his ugly gob shut; not wanting anyone to hear him engaging in his wretched urges.

The volume of the TV, currently playing some random old spaghetti western, is turned low enough to keep his trained ears aware of his surroundings, though loud enough to drown out any compromising noises escaping him that you could potentially hear.

He pumps his cock from root to tip, twisting his wrist and swiping his thumb over his piss slit, eyes rolling at the sensation while his mind goes to war again—torn between slowing down and drawing this guilty pleasure out or simply giving up and getting it over with.

The decision is taken from him when he slips up.

And he thinks about the curve of your rear, the suppleness of your flesh; imagines himself licking those renegade droplets of shower water off your ass cheek while groping the other, feeling your skin under his starved tongue, hearing you squeak then purr his name, glancing at him with those pretty doe-eyes of yours— “Simon.”

“Oh, fu–mmpf–!” He shoves his other fist between his teeth right when he comes, muffles his deep groan of pleasure while he bites down hard on his knuckles, eyes rolling back into his skull as the pleasure seizes his body violently, too intensely, pulling him right under the surface as his cum shoots from his tip in thick, white ropes, spilling so far up his torso that it lands on his black hoodie obscenely.

His massive body shudders, his chest is heaving as he keeps fucking his fist, hips bucking off the couch cushion, muscles twitching and quaking to a point of discomfort—a point he feels too vulnerable, where shame and guilt can kick in quickly; sweep him away into the darkest corners of his mind—the ones he feels weakest at, powerless.

#cotton candy clouds #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #hybrid au #cod #cod hybrid au #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #simon riley smut #reader insert #hybrid!reader #handler!ghost #simon riley x you #ghost x you

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hotchnersangel · 11 days ago

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MISS POSSESSIVE

Aaron Hotchner

a/n: BEEN OBSESSED W TATE’s NEW ALBUM SO HEREEEEEEEEE. ilyilyily.

cw: jealous!reader, established but secret relationship, innuendos of sleeping round (slay x), supportive hotch.

———-

The new ‘member’ of the team, a temporary member filling in for JJ had some nerve on her. Since her arrival she had made her attraction to the Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner very noticeable and despite your relationship being private and well… secret, you realised that she was bringing out a horrible side of yourself.

You were sat in the briefing room, debriefing a case you just got back from when you notice how she is eying Aaron. Her baby blue eyes undressing him with intent and fire as she burns a hole through his clothes from across the room.

You pretended you didn’t notice for a few weeks now but you couldn’t hold it any longer. You took it as a compliment that she wanted YOUR man, but it was getting too far now. She had already pronounced herself as a ‘player’ to the group when she delved into the topic of her love life on a night out with her, which you supported her actions verbally, telling her to ‘live her life to the fullest’ and ‘get that dick, girl!’ but soon you’d have to teach her which to stay away from. Immediately, seeing her obsession with Aaron made you see her as an enemy, not a friend. Yeah, no one exactly knew you were together but god damn was it frustrating for you to watch them interact. The sheer thought of her thinking about taking your man home makes you furious.

It was late, around one am by now, the case being extremely long and exhausting which meant you were feisty and snappy and would put up with no shit from her.

“Aaron you need a break after this, you’ve been working so hard.” She says ‘innocently’, fluttering her eyelashes at him with concern. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you tighten your jaw.

“The team will be given two days rest, I’ll ensure it personally.” He nods and chooses to ignore the flirtatious innuendo by the stupid bimbo trying to take your man.

You need to calm down, you tell yourself, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe we should get dinner or something?” She offers, again… innocently and if she wasn’t closing in on your man, you’d applaud her. This gesture makes you livid. She has just asked him on a date and you are finding it hard to bite your tongue. Aaron looks towards you, giving you a reassuring look that he isn’t bothered by her moves and quickly he shuts it down.

“I’m going to head back home, I suggest you all do the same.” He nods to them as everyone stands up ready to go.

“Just one meal, you need a nutritious meal after that case Aaron- let me take care of you.” You snap at the sight of her hand on his arm. You clear your throat.

“Get off my man,” you say with humour, trying to keep the tone light. This causes a round of laughter also coming from her.

“You’re funny.” She grins at you and laughs but your smile then fades and you zone in on her.

“No, seriously… get your hands off my man.” You say with a sharp face and the room falls silent.

Her hand drops from his arm at the intensity of your tone, her eyebrows pulled together and a frown caressing her lips. You watch as she takes a step away from him and towards you.

The team surrounding you have a shared reaction of shock, confusion and a hint of amusement. They knew you to be loud and bubbly, but never in a way that cuts at people- so, this took them by surprise but overall, there was a round of smirks shared through looks between them. ‘I knew it’ was chucked through sound waves on a length that only they had frequencies to. Emily and Derek whistled lowly, sitting back down in their chairs to watch the interaction unfold.

Aaron was stood still, staring intently at you with a look of warning. Not because he liked what was going on, but because he could see how angry you were. It was a look full of concern, worry and almost a slice of fear. He crossed his arms and thanked anything and everything that he was not in her position right now, because if looks could kill, this ‘bimbo’ would be six feet past death.

“W-what?” She stumbled, looking at you.

“You heard me.” You stand tall, looking at her intently now. “Look at anybody you want, take home anybody you want… but keep those eyes of yours off of him.”

“I- why are you acting like it’s a problem now? I’ve been flirting with him since I got here.” She defends and steps closer to you and you smirk.

“And has it once been reciprocated?” You continue smirking as you now take a step closer to her, staring up at her intently. Though you may be shorter than her, you were a whole lot more intimidating.

“And if it has?”

“It hasn’t and it wouldn’t.” You shoot back, a cold expression kissing your face. “You’re a pretty girl honey, but you need to learn your lesson that men who show you nothing in return don’t deserve your attention.”

“How long have you even been together?” She inquires, testing the waters.

“Long enough to know that there’s some fights you’re never going to win.” You shoot back and she frowns.

“I- I’m sorry I didn’t know-“ she says, looking towards Hotch who shakes his head.

“I’m not the one to apologise to.” He says with a straight face, moving so he is standing beside you now. “My lady is who needs an apology.”

“I’m sorry- I- I didn’t mean to cross boundaries I just thought-“

“Wrong. You thought wrong. Now, I forgive you but i suggest you tone down the flirting with my boyfriend. Okay?” You shoot back, your tone still a bit snippy as she walks away and you’re left with the team gawking at you both.

“Okay- what the fuck.” Emily breaks the silence with a laugh which crashes the tension that had built up.

“Miss Possessive over here, hello.” Derek comes over and teases you, playfully poking you and you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry but it was getting unbearable.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “I hardly went off on her.”

“Yet you scared the poor girl to death.” Rossi adds and the team nods.

You gasp playfully, “did not.”

“Oh honey, you definitely did.” Aaron grins and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Now can we talk about this-“ Garcia adds, pointing her finger between the two of you.

#aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #agent hotchner #hotch #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #possesive love #my man <3 #secret relationship

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

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m.list - spencer reid (cont.)

masterlist #1

doctor!spencer | 2 | 3 | 4

sub!stepbro!spencer | 2

you and spencer have matching bracelets

spencer + enemies to lovers

professor!spencer

spencer x librarian!reader

spencer + best friends to lovers

doing an escape room with spencer

spencer sees your nipple piercings

you back out of sex with spencer

you ramble to spencer

you play with spencer's hair

spencer takes you on a first date

spencer wants to stay in with you

spencer sees you in a corset

your home life with spencer

spencer x bimbo!reader | 2

superhero!spencer x reader

spencer kisses you in the field

roommate!spencer x reader

spencer's bad at bowling

personal trainer!spencer

spencer spoiling you

museum date with spencer

getting high with college!spencer

you protect spencer from a bump to the head

spencer + enemies to lovers

spencer writes you poems

fuckboy!spencer

unit chief!spencer letting you sleep in his office

stalker!reid | 2

spencer takes you on a rainy day picnic

you and spencer fake date

spencer + spanking + dacryphilia

you meet spencer's mom

dancing with spencer at your wedding

watching a foreign film with spencer

you handcuff yourself to spencer's bed

you tease spencer on a long drive

spencer makes you wear his tie

dog hybrid!spencer

spencer's a terrible cook

you and spencer have a food fight

spencer's happy to indulge your oral fixation

spencer + overstimulation

perv!roommate!spencer

sugar daddy!spencer

spencer + casual dominance

ghostface!unsub!reid

bath sex with reid

you move in with spencer

spencer likes calling you his wife

transfem!spencer

spencer + soulmate au

spencer has flowers delivered to your work

your first christmas with spencer as parents

spencer doubts his bedroom abilities

dbf!spencer | 2

spencer's touch starved / you're touch starved

derek recognizes camgirl!reader when spencer introduces her as his girlfriend

spencer keeps an eye out for your health

spencer helps you stop biting your cuticles

spencer drunk rambles about you

you accidentally scratch spencer's face

you're an old friend of spencer's

spencer can't focus around you

your first 'i love you' with spencer

spencer's a stay at home dad

spencer helps you stop scratching yourself

you're an artist and spencer's your muse

playing strip poker with spencer

spencer can't pick up what you're putting down

you get 'stuck' and roommate!spencer helps you

spencer + body worship

spencer's bad at complimenting you

spencer's tired of his coworkers' teasing

you gift spencer a boudoir shoot for his birthday

you laugh at spencer's jokes

spencer observes your unorthodox method of studying

spencer stumbles over asking you out

you and spencer find out you're having twins

you kiss spencer on the cheek

spencer catches you when you faint

spiderman!spencer

spencer x fairy!reader

spencer's too rough and you feel it in the morning

spencer tries out pet names on you

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Wearing pink [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x bimbo!reader

word count: 2.7k

request: Hear me out... Spencer introducing bimbo f!reader to the squad! 😭🩷

A/N: Honestly, I had never written anything like this and I hope it is the correct idea of a bimbo. I based her on some TV characters, so (if you're a fan of this type of reader) I hope you like it!

“Baby, you're so nervous,” Spencer giggled, listening to the click of your heels from one side of the apartment to the other to check that everything was in order.

“I'm not nervous, I just want everything to look nice” you complained. Your gaze went to your boyfriend, who was wearing an elegant suit that you had bought for him last month, and you noticed that his tie was a little crooked. You immediately went in front of him and your hands acted on their own to accommodate it, as they had done so many times.

It was the first time Spencer's unit mates would see you and you wanted to make the best impression of all. You kept asking if the dishes looked good, if your skirt was smooth, if your hair was combed, if your makeup looked good. And each time he just smiled and nodded, recording how precious you were.

Honestly, the fact that the team found out about your existence was mere coincidence, the result of an unfortunate event that ended up unmasking Spencer. He had spent the night with you, since the cases had kept him too busy the last few weeks, and when he left the room, he only gave you a kiss on the forehead so as not to disturb your sleep. Although he wasn't very hungry, his body was in desperate need of coffee, so he opened your cupboard for something to take back to the office. Everything in your kitchen, which you hardly ever used, was pink, lilac, or any pastel variation of a few others, so it was a relief for him to find a single black thermos. Without paying much attention, he took it, poured the hot liquid, and then walked out.

There was no case, yet, so he sat down at his desk after waving to Morgan and Emily. He felt his phone vibrate and he thought it was a message from JJ, but he found that it was you who was contacting him.

Hey, are you leaving without saying goodbye?

He smiled inadvertently and apologized saying that you looked so pretty that he hadn't wanted to disturb your calm. I could almost imagine you blushing from your soft bed.

Okay then. Good luck today, handsome.

Love u xx

"No way! Are you a plastic girl?" Garcia yelled, from his partner's side. Spencer jumped a little when he heard her and it seemed she had caught everyone's attention.

“A what?”

"Your cup" the woman stretched out her hand to pick up said object and showed it to the rest: it had a bright pink print, with some images of a blonde girl and various objects, including a text written with something like newspaper clippings. which enunciated Burn Book.

"Where did you get that, Reid?"

"Who is she?"

“It's Regina George, from the movie Mean Girls. You don’t know her?" Prentiss muttered and at first, he immediately denied it.

“On Wednesdays we wear pink,” Garcia quoted, hoping he would have a clue, and again he showed he didn't know what they were talking about. But after taking a closer look at it, he suddenly remembered that he had looked at a poster with her somewhere in your room and it all made sense.

“When I took it, it was black”

"It's probably one of those magical cups that reveal the image with heat"

“Thermochromism?”

"I guess that's the scientific term"

"So where did you get it from? Did it just show up at your house by chance?"

"No, it was at my girlfriend's house"

At that, Emily's eyes widened, Garcia gasped loudly, and Morgan, who inconveniently just took a gulp of his coffee, almost choked on the hot liquid.

Penelope almost took the doctor by the neck to ask him why he had omitted such important information and he only shrugged his shoulders and replied that he had never commented on it because they had never asked.

It didn't take long for Garcia to yell at the missing team members what they had just found out and pretty soon JJ and Rossi were also gathered around the man to find out what was going on. To everyone's dismay, Hotch interrupted almost immediately, and they didn't manage to ask Spencer any questions. And he said it would be better if they were that curious to ask her themselves.

“Reid, I swear you don't even introduce us to that girl I'll never talk to you again” Garcia had threatened him, clearly exaggerating just to convince him.

When Spencer saw you again, he filled you in on the whole situation and asked if you were okay with hosting a unit dinner, to which you happily agreed.

"Everything looks immaculate, you don't have to worry," he assured you, taking both of your hands and leaning in to kiss you.

"But what if they don't like me?"

"What reason would they have for that, huh?" he insisted, holding your face in his hands. He really liked your lip gloss, it always tasted delicious and made your lips look flawless.

"Because they're like mega-cool detectives and I... well, I won't even know what to tell them."

"Let them ask the questions, I assure you they will be dying to know everything about you" he smiled at you, quite confident that the evening would go perfectly. It was the first time Spencer had introduced the team to a couple, so they would behave prudently. Or at least so he hoped.

The sound of the doorbell caught your attention and you practically jumped towards the door to open it for whoever was there, but not before asking your boyfriend for the thousandth time to make sure you looked good. When you opened it, you saw a blonde woman and a bald man who, from Spencer's stories, you assumed were Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. They asked your name and you agreed, finishing verifying that it was the place with the presence of your friend behind you.

"Hello! We thought we had the wrong house” she sighed, completely nervous, and Morgan didn't even say hello because he had been stunned to see you.

You were very pretty, generally speaking, you were wearing a white skirt, a tight top, and a light baby pink sweater, plus huge heels that made you almost level with your boyfriend. You were like a model and it's not that he didn't trust his friend's flirting skills, but that you had simply exceeded his expectations of him.

You received them with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, while they secretly observed the place. Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ soon arrived, in exactly that order, and when they were all assembled, they took seats at the table. Spencer helped you serve dinner, which you had ordered from your favorite restaurant, and pretty soon all of you were eating and drinking the wine that David Rossi had brought as a gift.

Although the conversation had been pleasant during the first few minutes, it was obvious that everyone wanted to ask you questions, quite surprised to see the type of girl you were and how they never imagined that their friend would fit in with someone like that.

"So since when are you guys dating?" Emily murmured, trying to be nice, but also dying of curiosity.

"What will they be now, love? About six months?” you said, reaching out to hold his hand on the table.

“Six months, fourteen days, and seventeen hours”

"He's the mathematician here, so you can listen to him" you joked and the others laughed. The courtship time somewhat dismayed the team, because, although they didn’t blame him, they wished they had known sooner.

"And how did you two meet?"

“Oh, for my dad. Spencer went to give a conference to his police officers in New York a while ago and he asked him for a private consultation on a case that had been giving everyone a headache. When he helped him figure it out, Dad was so grateful that he invited him to dinner so he could meet our family. My parents loved him so I thought of it as a sign and we kept in touch after that."

"Now I understand why he kept looking at his phone and smiling in his spare time," Morgan muttered to embarrass him, like an older brother would, and the team laughed at the memory.

"And who is your father?" Rossi asked. Reid had never mentioned what had happened, but still you seemed familiar to the man, as if he had seen you somewhere before.

“He worked for a few years as a police chief here in Virginia, but now last year he got promoted to the commissioner or something; his name is Joseph Sanders”

You probably had no idea how important that position was to police officers, but they all exchanged glances as if you had just told them that you were the daughter of the President of the United States himself. Rossi immediately snapped his fingers as he winced, telling you that of course he knew your father and that he had seen you when you were a girl of maybe ten years old. The others only weighed in on the fact that Reid was now the commissioner's son-in-law.

“Hey and, no offense, but how did you fall in love with our boy wonder? He's always been a bit shy”

Now it was your boyfriend who was worried that they might make him uncomfortable or point out the clear difference between the two of you, but your carefree giggles put him at ease every time.

"It is enough to see that face to do it, don't you think?" you responded affectionately and the girls smiled at your response.

"Actually, she called me to invite me to have coffee after dinner with her father and although at first I thought it was hopeless I realized that she liked spending time with me and that's why I kept asking her out”

“He was so sweet. Flowers, chocolates, dinners. The whole package"

“Yes, well, it's that I did a little research on the best courtship methods and found common factors like that in most of them. It was only necessary to combine it with the right environment and make some modifications to them so that they were pleasant in front of you. Did you know that in the 19th century it was well seen that men…?”

"Reid," Derek interrupted, as a signal for him to stop rambling, and his friends smiled at the doctor's soft apology.

“Half the time I don't understand what he's saying, but I love hearing him talk,” you said sincerely. He had never taken that as an offense, because, although many people didn't understand his talks about him either, at least you always paid attention to him "I honestly don't know how a person can have a brain of that size"

“In fact, brains don’t vary in size but rather in areas of development, so it is incorrect to say that one person has a bigger brain than another. In such a case, one person has a more developed brain than the other”

The group looked at him accusingly again and he was about to feel guilty, but your lips crashing a kiss on his cheek considerably improved his mood.

After many more questions, everyone was able to realize that you and Spencer couldn't be more than complete opposites. You loved everything that Reid didn't know and he knew a lot of things that didn't matter to you. There were no books in your house, if glossy magazines counted for anything, and Spencer didn't even have a modern cell phone. Your house vibrated with pink and expensive things, while he only cared that there would be a bed to sleep in when he got home. But even with everything you looked really in love and the team wondered how that was possible.

Although you tremendously admired the man's capabilities that wasn’t the most important thing to you, but his wonderful beauty of him. He was someone who drew attention with his eccentricity, that every time he walked into a room he left a mark and someone many women wished they had, which he didn't even notice. And by becoming your boyfriend, without any explicit sense of ownership or anything, he had become all yours.

You liked holding his hand in the streets, you liked that he came to work and the clients were surprised when he kissed you, that everyone said how lucky you were to have found a man like that. Besides, he had passed one of the most important tests: he had your parents' approval, which was usually not an easy thing to come by.

And right now, it seemed that you were winning the sympathy of your boyfriend's family too, because the fact of seeing him so happy by your side was reason enough for them to like you and, therefore, also approve of you.

When it was time to eat dessert, the girls invited you to go shopping with them one day and all the compliments from the men were related to your last name, even astonished that Spencer now belonged to the spheres of high police society. They told you many things about themselves and you, with some effort, tried to take it all in.

"It was a great pleasure meeting you, you can come back here any day you like," you said to say goodbye, once the night was already quite advanced and they decided that the best thing (for the comfort of both the hosts and the guests) would be to leave.

“The pleasure was ours, Y/N”

Just like at the beginning, they kissed your cheek, and one by one they left, giving you kind words of thanks, until only you and Spencer were left.

"How was I?" you immediately asked your boyfriend, who was already looking at you out of the corner of his eye with a smile.

“Perfect”

"You think so?"

"I know it" he assured you, moving closer to you to hold you by the waist and causing your skirt to ride a little higher to the height of your butt "They loved you"

“But can you believe your friend Emily was wearing flats with that dress? It's not right and I didn't mean to be rude by mentioning it, but I died when I saw it” you started to babble, still under Spencer's grasp “And your friend Penelope has such a…quirky style. She wears colors that shouldn't mix, but somehow it looks good on her. And your boss, Aaron, shouldn't wear a suit jacket with a casual shirt. The others were relatively good, but the next time I see Jennifer I'll be sure to treat her to a moisturizer for her skin”

"And leaving that aside, did they at least make a good impression on you?" he laughed. He wasn't upset with you, it was inevitable that you would notice that kind of 'signs of bad taste' as you called them.

“Oh, they are adorable. You can tell that they love you very much, everyone speaks with admiration of you. Even your friend Derek, even though he tried to annoy you every so often."

“Yeah, I'll make him pay” he muttered under his breath, making you smile.

Carefully you reached up to reach his lips with a kiss and he sighed pathetically into your mouth as you clung to his body. Your skin was so smooth wherever he touched, as if you were a delicate piece of porcelain in his big hands.

“I hope you had a good time”

“Of course I did, sweetie. I already told you, you were perfect"

Perfect. You loved that he described you that way.

"Do you have to go home?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought maybe we could go to my room. I bought something new that I think you'll like” you said innocently, while you held him by the tie that you had arranged so carefully at the beginning of the evening. Upon hearing this, he wasted no time and carried you in a bridal pose, taking you there while you laughed out loud.

No one questioned Spencer when he arrived later than usual the next morning, smelling of cherry shampoo and with a suspicious purplish mark, knowing that the only one to blame for that would have to be you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #bimbo!reader #spencer reid x bimbo!reader #bimbo girl

3K notes · View notes

elvisgirlie · 13 days ago

Text

ꪆৎ possesive, protective ..

bimbo! reader — 1.5k words , tw: creep behaviour!(not john) (can you tell I like having older men treating me like I'm dumb?) . 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ♡

The low hum of a police car engine filled the warm Los Angeles night, streetlights casting flickering shadows through the windshield. The city was restless as always, here the police department never got a break.

John leaned one arm on the open window, fingers tapping idly against the car door as he drove. His other hand rested lazily on the wheel, thick fingers maneuvering the car with the effortless ease of years on the job. Next to him, you sat upright in the passenger seat, hands folded neatly over your lap, your thick, glossy lips slightly parted as you listened intently to him.

He had been explaining something to you—some procedure about handling civilians in tense situations, but truth be told, he wasn’t sure you were actually listening to any of it. You were listening, sure, nodding along and humming in acknowledgment every so often, but the way you were looking at him?

Jesus.

Big, doe eyes were practically glowing, staring up at him like he had hung the damn moon. That soft, dreamy expression made something smug coil deep in his chest. He wasn't a stranger to admiration—hell, he'd been in the force long enough to have rookies look up to him before—but this was different. This wasn't some fresh-out-of-the-academy kid trying to prove themselves. No, you were looking at him like he was the strongest, most capable man in the world.

It was adorable.

And he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feed his ego.

"You got all that, sweetheart?" John drawled, smirking as he spared you a glance. You nodded quickly, sitting up straighter. "mhm!"

He chuckled lowly. "Yeah? You’re not just nodding to make me think you’re listening?"

you gasped, scandalized. "No! I always listen to you!"

He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch the way your lips jutted out in the smallest pout, all glossy and plush. Jesus Christ.

But before he could say anything else, or ponder about how he could make those lips of yours even glossier and stickier than they were, the radio crackled to life.

"Unit 17, we have reports of an attempted robbery. Male suspect, mid-30s, being held by civilians near 8th and Broadway. Responding officers needed."

John clicked the radio, confirming their response before shifting the gear. "Alright, doll, time to see how you handle the real thing," he said, turning to you, the teasing edge still lingering in his voice.

; ⏳⌛

When you arrived, a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. A man in a dirty hoodie was being held down by two other men—who had clearly jumped in to stop him from fleeing. A woman stood a few feet away, clutching her purse tightly.

John stepped out of the car first, his presence alone making the scene shift slightly. People always reacted when a cop like him arrived—he had that air about him, that unspoken authority. He felt you move beside him, warmth pressing up against his side as you stayed close, just like he told you to.

Good girl.

"Alright, alright, let him up," John ordered, gesturing for the men to release their hold. The suspect stumbled to his feet, looking around like he was calculating his chances of running. John gave him a warning look that said don’t even think about it.

You, ever the attentive rookie, were watching closely, absorbing everything. You were so close that your hip was flush against John's, the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of your uniforms.

He didn't move away.

"Hands where I can see 'em," John instructed, his voice firm but casual. "You got a name, pal?"

The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, squinting at John. Then his eyes flickered to you. And John saw it the second it happened.

The change in the man’s expression, the way his gaze dragged over you, from her tight uniform to the thick gloss coating your lips. The way he smirked like he had just spotted an opportunity.

"Well, ain’t this a treat," the man muttered, his lips curling into something sleazy. His gaze dropped to your chest—too long, too obvious—before dragging back up to your mouth. "Didn’t know they were hiring cops to look this damn good now."

The air shifted immediately. You stiffened, posture growing tense as your lips pressed into a thin line, brows twitching with the desire to curl into a disgusted frown. You were keeping your cool. But John?

John felt something snap.

His body moved instinctively. Before the man could get another word out, John's arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you in tight against his side—possessive, protective, unmistakable. His grip was secure, fingers pressing firmly into the small of your back. He was staring daggers at the other man.

The guy barely had a second to register the shift before John’s voice dropped into something dark and edged with warning.

"Shut your damn mouth if you don’t wanna go to jail without any teeth," John growled, his tone low and lethal. His usually cool demeanor was gone, replaced with something dangerous. His hand tightened on your waist just slightly, a silent message that said you're mine to protect.

The suspect swallowed hard, clearly second-guessing whatever dumb idea he had brewing.

"She’s my rookie," John continued, his voice like gravel. "And nobody—nobody—makes creepy comments toward her. You get me?"

The man nodded quickly, shutting up for good.

John gave him one last glare before shifting his focus back to you. You were looking up at him, those big eyes wide with something that looked dangerously close to admiration. And fuck if that didn’t do something to him.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he murmured, voice softer now, just for you.

You nodded, a small hum slipping past your lips. "Yeah, I—I’m fine, John."

Damn right you were.

Still, he kept his arm around you a second longer than necessary, making sure the suspect saw and understood before finally letting you go.

"Get in the damn car," John snapped at the guy, shoving him toward the backseat. The suspect didn’t argue.

As John shut the door, he exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before glancing at you again. You were still staring at him, something unreadable in her expression.

Then, in the softest, sweetest voice, you murmured, "Thank you, John."

And just like that, his ego swelled again, drowning out whatever residual anger he had. He smirked, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Anytime, sweetheart," he murmured.

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denjjisgf · 24 days ago

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IFHY (ODE TO BOREDOM) maneater reader x unsuspecting s. gojo

cw: light smut, delusional reader, stalking, mentions of killing because reader is a serial killer pt 1 here

now to be clear, it was an accident.

never in your killing career have you been so sloppy. i mean, come on, snooping is one thing, but to take something! you've never stolen, and trophies aren't your thing. they were a trail of evidence and besides, for the new year you made a resolution to keep the trinkets to a minimum.

burning with shame and still flushed from seeing satoru, you fanned yourself, admiring the printed crumbling decal. loose threads frayed around the cuffs and there was paint stains littering the fabric. it was something satoru so clearly loved. guilt pits in your stomach on the walk back to your car. it was a few blocks away so you have quite a bit of time to ruminate.

what the fuck was going on with you?!

this took time. he took all of your time. everything you had worked for to build up to the moment you would kill for. no pun intended. it was all going down the drain as you walked farther from his apartment.

you had spent weeks following him home, and back to work (he is quite the workaholic, a problem you anticipate he won't have soon). you got a membership at his gym and shut down randoms and free drinks at the clubs he frequents, waiting for the perfect moment. even if you weren't there for him, you of all people know not to accept drinks from strangers- you never know what's in them.

jesus fuck, you spent an embarrassing amount of time memorizing the faces of his friends from facebook posts. that's why you let it slide when satoru- drunk and stupid- tumbled into the backseat of the cab last saturday with that woman.

geto, you seethed, balling your fist till crescents formed deep in the skin. you knew he was bad news the second you saw him: arm stretched over satoru's shoulders, low-lidded glossy eyes exposing his late night festivities at the "gojo & friend's" favorite night club. as you learned while rummaging through his kitchen cabinets, satoru doesn't drink alcohol. there wasn't a single drop of liquor around his home. not even a bottle opener.

so you knew it was that long-haired freak who made your sweet satoru drink himself to oblivion, leaving you at the bar, watching him hand-in-hand with some bimbo, and you, furious, tingling for a fresh kill.

in minutes, your tongue was down the throat of a bleary eyed girl with puffy lips and a full moon face in attempt to forget. she melted in your hands without fear. you couldn't wait see the trust fall from her face when you sunk your knife in her chest. he just made you so mad. how were you to get rid of that frustration?

you were guiding her out the doors, taking her home to finish the job, when you caught your silver fox hanging out a taxi's window, waving goodbye to geto on the curb. the car took off and you locked eyes for fleeting second with geto. if looks could kill, he would've been flattened by a falling ac unit, bloody bits scattered on the cement, perfect for stepping on.

the girl tugged on your hand, thighs squirming in her tight mini skirt. goosebumps freckled on her skin and you huffed, annoyed.

"i'm not interested anymore," her smile formed into a frown.

"w-wait, whaddya talkin' about?" it wasn't the same as feeling a pulse slow to null, but her minor heartbreak would suffice till you had satoru pleading for his life.

"listenn, how clearer can i be? fuck. off." with that, you ditched her in the cold and took off for the night. you felt the bloodlust wavering and slowing in your veins.

why you decided in the moment to leave blood-free and frustrated as hell, no one knows. but since you set your eyes on satoru, you had been clouded with brain fog. practice makes perfect, and by this point, you were the fucking master.

you tug on your hair, wiping your nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. he smelled so much better than you had imagined and it calmed you.

you decided the next day would be the best time to sneak the beloved staple back into his apartment. he'd be gone, out till near dawn on a friday night- the weather was going to be frigid, but as they say, a hoe never gets cold.

so when tomorrow rolls around, you camp outside the building. and at 11, a cab sputtered exhaust out front, the engine stirring as it waited for satoru. the "occupied" light flicked on and once the car was out of sight, you made your way inside.

even though you had only been inside the complex once, you knew how to get to his unit exactly. building blueprints weren't public information, but boring nights outside left your counting windows and let's just say you did the math.

letting yourself in, you move quickly, leaving the sweatshirt at the bottom of his hamper. you smell his pillow and toy with the neatly lined up sunglasses on his dresser, but you make sure you're out the door in minutes. you took the stairs two at a time, running from the inkling feeling you were being watched. or perhaps, about to be caught.

you rush out the stairwell exit, "shit, my ba-"

you freeze. god, you were so careless, throwing your body into the heavy metal door and right into satoru's back like that. and why the fuck was he back?!

in slow motion, he turned and chuckled, arrogantly, as he one-uped you. he's smiling like he enjoys what he sees. your heart races, panicking because you never let victims see your face, nevermind the warmth pooling in your cheeks and core.

"in a rush, beautiful? you're welcome to share a cab with me, it's just outside."

"uhm, no. i mean, i'm good. my car's parked outside."

"are you new to the building?"

"what?"

"well, you can only park outside if you live here or are fucking someone who lives here. weird property policy, huh?" he smiles coyly, and you roll your eyes. get a load of this guy.

"no, i don't live here."

"it'd be a shame if your car was towed," he glances at his thousand dollar watch. "and it's just about time those pesky trucks go on duty. how 'bout this, i give you my guest pass and you stay the night with me."

"look, i wasn't here long, my car is fine. i was just dropping something off for someone."

"fiesty," he says with a bite. he leans comfortably against the mailboxes, lanky legs crossing at the ankle. you learn a new thing about him everyday: being a nuisance is clearly his flirting style.

"ah- so who's the special little man? i should've known a girl like you'd be taken goods," he tosses a hand over his brows with a "woe-is-me" attitude, peeking an eye out to see if you were still entertaining him.

"you could call him that. he doesn't know but he's not gonna be seeing anyone new, anytime soon."

"wow, it's that serious?"

"you don't even know."

here you go :) @megumisthirdog

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo fanfic #as my roomate said; just in time for valentines day

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mariasont · 6 months ago

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RAINY WITH A CHANCE OF HOTCH - A.H

a/n: hi wow it's been a hot minute!

firstly, i just want to say i am so incredibly grateful for everyone who has reached out <3 i love you all and once i am not as overwhelmed i promise i'll go through my messages and inbox. you all are amazing and im kissing you all through the screen.

secondly, this summer was the hottest messiest express that could have been is the short n sweet explanation to my disappearance (sabrina reference, sorry i had to) but i just struggled hard core with my mental health and needed a detox from social media.

thirdly, but i'm back and i love you all and here is a short like fic featuring everyone's fav miss bimbo reader <3

masterlist

parings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: just some cuties being cute

wc: 0.6k

Hotch hesitated to acknowledge the fact that he found himself often gazing out of his office window, discreetly observing your arrival in the parking lot each morning. He attempted to justify this behavior by reasoning that, as the unit chief, it was within his responsibilities to monitor the welfare of his team.

He mentally recited the same mantra repeatedly as he moved towards the exit, an umbrella tapping persistently against his side. Hotch found himself calling out your name before he realized it, his hand shielding his face from the unrelenting raindrops as he took in your appearance.

"Stay there," he borderline commanded, moving towards you as you clung to the driver’s side door.

You looked as pretty as ever, with your hair swept back from your face and curls framing your doe eyes. It made you that much more alluring and, consequently, even more distracting.

When you first joined as his assistant, he discreetly suggested to whoever was in charge of the hires back then that he was less than pleased with the arrangement. He found it hard to focus, his eyes constantly drawn to you. He wanted to claim it was involuntary, but he knew there was intention behind his constant search for you.

"Well, hi there, boss man," you chirped, your disposition utterly unaffected by the water that had dampened your outfit.

He considered himself a noble man, honorable even, or so he told himself as he resisted the urge to glance down at your blouse that was now nearly see-through.

He quickly unfurled the umbrella, taking the liberty of shielding your perfect face from the onslaught of raindrops. You smiled up at him in a way that was so carefree it made his heart clench in his chest.

He cleared his throat. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.”

“Good thing you’re here to prevent that.”

Aaron’s face was now wet, rivulets of rain tracing paths from his hair to his chin. He struggled to prevent a smile at your words, tucking his chin into his chest to conceal it.

He let you take hold of his arm, your purse occasionally tapping into his leg as he closed your car door and started towards the entrance. You leaned in closer, earning a knowing look from him.

You smiled into your coffee, pink lipstick staining the travel cup. “What? I wasn’t all the way under the umbrella.”

He knew that was a lie because he wasn’t all the way under the umbrella, ensuring you were fully covered.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Your eyes are very expressive, Mr.”

“Then you should know I’m thinking we need to get you inside and dry." He looked at you knowingly, his grip on the umbrella tightening as you both reached the entrance.

“Dry? Around you?” you questioned, smiling innocently towards Hotch as he closed the umbrella and opened the front door. “Wishful thinking, sir.”

“Do I need to remind you we’re at work?”

Hotch combed his semi-damp hair with his fingers, flicking some water in your direction. You squealed, hands flying to shield your face, a stream of giggles following. The smile on his face was now inevitable.

��Sorry, can’t help myself,” you managed to say through the laughter.

He kissed your cheek softly, then started to walk to his office. Glancing back, he adds, “You’ll be sorry when we get home.”

That shut you up.

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#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo #bimbo reader #criminal minds

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hotchgirlsummer · 2 years ago

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There’s barley people on this app that make good bimbo reader! You are amazing!! Could u do one where she goes to his office for lunch and after they eat she gets sleepy so he lays her on his couch to nap and she’s like “so sleepy”

summary ⤷ There's nothing more one looks forward after lunch than napping with the love of their life.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ nothing but fluff! maybe some heart to heart talk?

word count ⤷ 1.6k words

a/n ⤷ no cause you are so sweet 🥺🥺🥺🥺 this took a long while to get done as february was a busy month for me. hopefully you like it!also!! to get back in the habit of writing, drabble requests are open! ☺️

masterlist

"Your food delivery's here!" Y/N giggled cheerfully as she opened Aaron's office door but her cheery expression was halted when she noticed that Dave and Emily were also in the room as they were previously discussing important; she looked at the other two agents and shot them a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry I didn't get you guys anything, can I make it up next time? Did you guys like the chocolate mousse or the cupcakes that I brought last time?"

"i liked both, I do have a craving for your chocolate mousse," Came Emily's immediate and well-thought of reply, which earned her smirking looks from the two men, "What? Y/N's a great baker and I love all of her treats."

"Aw, you're too sweet to me, Em," Cooed the younger woman and hurriedly hugged the noirette tight, "I'll bring some next time I visit here, kay?"

"As much as Emily and I would love to chat more with you, I believe there's a certain commander of ours who'll get grumpy if he doesn't ear his lunch," Rossi remarked as he took note of the rather tight-lipped expression that Hotch was wearing; Emily smirked as well once she broke off the hug and took a good look at their unit chief, "You're right, Rossi. It seems like they might even need to be put down for a nap."

Y/N waited until the two were out of the room before placing the lunch bag on his desk, making way to where Aaron was and sat comfortably on his lap, lacing her arms around his neck as she wondered, "Did you guys get a new team member?"

"What makes you say that, sweetheart?" Aaron questioned back as he busied himself with stroking her cheek as he kissed her nose before landing a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Dave was talking about a commander, do you have an army teammate?" Her cute head tilt made it hard for the unit chief to explain what Rossi really meant. Instead, he went along with her understanding by agreeing, "No, sweetheart. But wanna know a secret?"

Her cute gasp as she nodded excitedly, prompted him to reveal, "Sometime I don't really understand what Dave says. We all just go with what he says and make him think he's making sense."

Smacking his shoulder slightly, she reprimanded him, "That's mean, Aar. You be nice to Dave! Or else he won't make me anymore of his delicious lasagna." Leaning forward to press a kiss on her glossed up pout and chuckles at her, "Well don't worry, I will cook all the meals you will ever crave for."

"You are a great cook," She pondered for a bit before her eyes drifted over to the lunch bag she had carried with her, perking up in excitement as she remembers, "Oh! I brought you lunch! I made a it all healthy like you want, with produce, filer, and gains!"

As she was opening the covers of the tupperware, Hotch nodded to himself as he understood better what she was trying to convey, "Protein, fibre, and grains," He listed as he saw the chicken, eggs, banana, grapes, and some nuts. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, sweetheart," He said, with a voice full of love as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Shaking her head as if what he said was absurd and lifting the forkful of food by his mouth, cupping her free hand underneath the fork in case some food fell off, "But I really wanted to see you, and I knew you didn't pack any lunch with you. Plus, you always cook for me and I wanted to return the favor, you know?"

Taking the bite she had prepared for him, he hummed appreciatingly as he smiled up at her, "I'll forever be grateful for this, sweetheart. It's been a while since I had a pretty girl bring and feed me lunch."

Giggling as she scooped some of the eggs and brought it to her mouth, "Just say the word and I can make this an everyday arrangement! Oh, would you need a personal assistant, Aar?"

"And no, I don't think I need one. Besides, I'd love it more if you busied yourself with your designs, sweet."

"Oh! Speaking of my designs, I worked on more today! I came up with this dress that comes down mid thigh and it has this Venus cut on the shoulders. Though for a while I struggled because I wasn't sure if I wanted the design to be simple sparkles to look like stars or have like embroidered flowers on it," It was apparent on her satisfied smile as she fed him more chicken that she was immensely proud of the result, "Can't wait to show you what it looks like once I've made it!"

"I can't wait to see it either. Maybe you can give me a fashion show hm?" Rubbing her back to settle her pent up excitement.

"Well maybe not right away, I have these shoes in mind that I wanna buy that will tie up the whole look."

As he was fed another bite, Aaron felt around for his wallet before speaking, "Why don't you take my card when you buy it?" Scoffing in mock offense, she shook her head and feed him another spoonful as if to silence him from making more silly suggestions, "Well excuse me for wanting to use my hard-earned money. You can't be the only one who will do all the spoiling of me. Or for me," She pouts as she looked up at him, "You do know what I mean, right?"

"I always do, sweetheart," He reassures which brings out a bright, toothy smile from her.

From there on out, Hotch filled her up on what the latest happenings within the team are — he of course left out the gruesome details of the cases are, but instead what the latest life updates of team members. And in return, she shared memorable interactions with her customers.

While he was recalling how Spencer pulled a prank on Derek with the help of Blake, Hotch's keen eye noticed that Y/N was scooping eggs but instead of feeding it to him, she fed it to herself.

"Hey! I thought those eggs were for me?" He jokingly scolded her when the bite of eggs went to her; as if to make up for it she gave him a big serving of the eggs before answering his question, "Well it's because I had such a busy day, Aar! I cleaned the apartment, cooked food, and I worked on some more designs!" She laid her head on his shoulder as she passed the fork to him — which allowed the unit chief to this time feed for himself as he noticed that the exhaustion of her day's activities was catching up on Y/N. "So ready for a nap, Aar."

"Yeah? Your tummy's all full so you're ready for a nap now?" While his voice was teasing her , Y/N did not register it as such and instead took it as concern for her well-being. Snuggling further into his neck while her hand busied itself by rubbing his chest lovingly, spreading warmth on his entire being.

"Can I go lay on your chest? Wanna stay with you while I nap," She was a hundred percent sure that he would give in but Hotch knew that if she did let him lay on him like this that one, work that needed to be done that day would not get accomplished which means more time not spent with Y/N and Jack. And second, it would be likely that a team member will barge in and poke at him for letting his guard down.

Against his will, he shook his head as he lifted her body in his strong arms — he smiled to himself upon feeling her snuggle close — and laid her on his office couch, he draped her with the soft, faux fur blanket her purchased after her first visit into his office and she made some comment about what will keep him warm while he works and she was not there to snuggle him.

"I won't take more than two hours and then we're out of here, okay?"

"Mmkay, I'm just gonna nap here, Aarbear. Wake me up when it's time for us to go, okay?" She immediately nuzzled herself into the blanket, leaning against his soft lips when he pecked her cheek softly.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," He muttered softly before promptly returning back to his desk; now motivated more than ever to brisk through this mountain of paperwork if he had any desire of spending his time with her and Jack for the evening like they had originally planned.

It wasn't until twenty minutes in when he had the expected visitor that took place in the form of Derek Morgan. Polite knocks followed by him entering the office, the Chicago native smirked as he spotted the sleeping form of his boss' girlfriend. "I see you got yourself a sleeping beauty," He remarked as he placed the files on the desk.

"Don't worry, I'll wake her up with a kiss before we leave," Hotch joked as he thanked him for the files he got accomplished. Taken aback with how he cracked a joke on his own, Derek replicated his chuckle and said, "Honestly though, Hotch, she's really good for you."

Putting the pen down as he took in his words and stared lovingly at her, "Not only that, but I she is the one for me, Morgan."

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