#How is it I keep finding out new things about this man that make me love him even more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keelt9 · 2 days ago

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Chapter 2

Masterlist

A/N: Ok I was planning to publish, like every Wednesday but I was so busy that I couldn't. Still it's San Valentines day and week, I won't let it pass. Also I have something planned for this day but well my days and my schedule didn't fit.

However! Happy Valentine's Day 😘

Thanks for reading! 🍒

To her surprise the next day Monet came running like every morning after finishing her two hour painting, of course with more breaks than painting from time to time.

Just this time, he came with a strange fluffy toy.

“Monet!” She goes down taking the toy of his snout looking around expecting to find the owner of the toy.

Instead the only one she found is Officer Lynch finish his shift. “Oh Y/N, leaving too?”

Y/N smiles; since she added painting in her morning routine Officer Lynch always make sure she stay safe, when Monet was include to the equation, he secure multiple eyes are on him.

“That’s what I’m trying but I’m afraid Monet took this from someone.” Y/N stands with the toy in her hands grabbing her bag and the canva.

“No!, that’s his.” Officer Lynch smiles leaving more confuse Y/N. “Joey gives to him.”

Y/N sees Monet tapping his paws for she gave him back his toy. “What?”

“Joey and he are…making a special friendship, he came the day before Christmas to give him this, but I guess you went out, then after New Year still you didn't come until today.”Officer Lynch smiles when Monet sniff his hand.

Y/N feel confused, her dog has a friend? “Yeah, we went with my father and then I had tons of work so I wasn’t able to come until today.”

“That explained a lot of things.” The man patted Monet's head. “Don’t worry Y/N, Joey is such a good guy, I dare to say one of a kind.” He smiles at Y/N who keeps confused and intrigue. “Both of them are taking care of each other, trust me.”

“Ok?”

Y/N can barely answer but her eyes back to the toy in her hands and the fact that actually could be one of the reasons, these days Monet just needs to perk out at their house for he starts to look around the block observing his surroundings like he was actually expecting someone.

Joe leaves the park with a wide smile on his face, he arrived there earlier than he does, doing his usual routine expecting that little spotted puppy came running.

20 minutes later, Joe sees him appearing among the trees with his green bandanna over his neck moving the tail side to side.

“Hey buddy!” Monet sits waiting for Joe's hands pat his head to stand on his two legs. “A few days and this cast will be history.”

Monet sees the bump in his hoodie and smells it. “Right, Merry Christmas and happy New Year.” Joe giggles seeing the puppy smelling incessantly as he opens the package.

Monet grabs it right away, biting it over the ground as Joe sits on the bench observing the dog, a few minutes later, Monet puts it over his lap, waiting as he sits.

“I can’t actually throw that far with the other one.” Monet tilted his head. “But what about short distances?”

That’s how they spend the time with Joe throwing the toy, then Monet searching for it walking back and repeating the action until both of them sit on the grass.

“Water?” Officer Lynch asked in his last lap around the park.

Joe sees the bottle and accepts it; the question is how Monet will drink? “I think I need a plate or something.”

Officer Lynch give him one. “Mrs. Howk always had one in case Monet visited her.”

Mrs. Howk is a lady that used to come every morning to feed the doves or birds in the middle of the park.

The Officer Lynch couldn’t avoid smiling seeing that to boys drinking water worn-out even they just play for a short time.

“That’s his present?” He saw the fluffy toy in front of Monet.

“Yeah, I seriously start to believe he loves it.” Joe sees Monet laid on to his left, clearly tired.

“I guess he does.” For the Officer Lynch is adorable the bond he’s abel to witness, increasing day by day, after all that’s the reason why people said dogs are the bestfriends of people.

“Morning.” Savannah enters her friend's house with her PJ's; Nora has a morning training that probably Savannah forgets.

Dragging her to the couch, she laid down, closing her eyes as Monet starts to sniff her, all he can reach.

Savannah laughs when Monet takes the pillow from her face so she can give her attention to him.

“Ok, sorry, sorry, hi boy.” Monet barks, laying his head on the top of her tummy.

Y/N smiles. “Breakfast?”

“And coffee.” Y/N turns around to get the coffee machine ready.

“Hey, that’s a fabulous toy.” Savannah said standing from the couch, her hair tossing in every possible direction. “Where did you find it?”

Y/N quickly sees the fluffy toy over Monet's bed. It’s been a couple of weeks since Monet has it and already looks like it’s had 3 years of use.

The first day after he had it, Y/N was surprised by the fact Monet barks next to his bed where the toy was. It took her a couple of seconds to realize he wanted to take it for their morning in the park. The following weeks that toy was already in the bag next to the door, the one Y/N takes to the park every morning with her paintbrush and cans of paint along with a few snacks and water of Monet.

“You don’t need permission, huh?” Y/N sat kneeling in front of her dog who looks at her big shiny eyes, like she’s the only person he loves.

Y/N giggles and kisses his head before putting his collar on. “I love you so much, you know that?”

Monet barks, liking the first part he has at the reach, her arm.

Y/N serves two plates, and cups of coffee before serving Monet’s food. “I don’t. Monet’s friend gave it to him.”

“What?” Savannah laughs. “Monte has a friend, ok, who?”

Y/N pat Monet’s head as he smells his food. “I don’t know.”

Savannah choke with her coffee. It’s not a secret that Monet used to spend free time around the park; she already witness too, he goes first with the man of the coffee, who always has his small cart for selling coffee and with the wise recommendation of Y/N a small treat for him, then he spends time with the lady who feeds birds follow he taking his time with the officer before spend some time in the bench between the trees where you can see the strange conjunction among the old houses and clear big sky at the back.

But Y/N knows them really well, she used to spend her days there when she was a kid, her grandparents not living so far away from there; after she decided to come back it’s like the time didn’t pass.

Savannah alarms ring when the dog she loves so deep, has a friend and she doesn't even know who it is.

“And you’re ok with that?!” Savannah sees her friend sitting in front of her calmly.

“Officer Lynch knows him, he calls him Joey.” Y/N lift her shoulders. “For the name probably it’s a kid that plays with him before going to school.”

Y/N giggles seeing her friend that bewildered. “Come on Sav! I don’t want to scare a little boy saying, <Hey don’t play with my dog.>” Y/N remember who badly she wanted a dog when she was a kid but the resources and time weren't appropriate.

And she's reluctant to take that small connection with a kid that probably has been through the same.

“Monet is so happy every time he comes back with me after playing with his friends and probably the kid too. That’s what matters, right?”

Savannah observer at Monet, soon he will be 6 months older and he’s growing up so quickly and big, besides that’s what she works with him every weekend, training him for any unexpected event.

Savannah works in a physiotherapy for dogs and training them too, she knows for sure, if that Joey kid could be mean, Monet simply walks away.

“Happy and healthy dog.” Savannah said, as Y/N nods with a bite of her waffles in her mouth.

Still the name keeps resembling something Nora mentions the time she took Monet for a walk.

For Ja’Marr it was equally impressive, every time he sees Joe these last weeks he’s so determined to recover and improve every day, along with the rehabilitation, the fact he’s taking piano classes and his new dog-friend makes Joe take things with calm but confidence.

“You play with the dog, he helps you to stay calm and relax, then you wait for the next day and do the same.”Ja’Marr jokes.

They meet for dinner in Joe’s new home. “What does the dog and the owner have in exchange for that?”

Joe chuckles, he already thinks about it, with the multiple things he could do to help her and Monet.

“Monet.” Ja’Marr giggles for his friend's correction.

“Right, sorry, Monet.” Chase takes out the salad of the food they order. “I know a little bit about dogs, but they eat, sleep, drink and need vet things.“ He points at his friend with the fork. “And that sounds expensive.”

Those words keep Joe’s mind busy all night and in the morning increasing when Monet and he start to play, seeing the fur of Monet shine with the sun and the fact he's always clean and healthy.

Monet brings the toy for Joe, takes it and throws, with more force than he wanted due to being immersed in his own thoughts, he knows it for the time Monet takes for coming back with nothing.

“Shoot.” Joe mumbles when he sees Monet smelling around the place, still finding nothing.

They lose track of time until a text from his assistant announces they have been waiting for him for 20 minutes, he observes a Monet with regretful eyes as the dogs keep looking around the place with the hope of finding his toy.

Officer Lynch appears in the path with worried eyes, it’s been tree times since Monet has been called; Y/N already called him knowing if Monet is with him or has been see him and with who.

“Thank God!” He’s relieved to see Monet and Joe together. “Hey boy, time to go, they’re looking for you at the entrance.”

Still Monet observers Joe begging for his toy, making his heart squeeze.

“Can I borrow one of these and a pen?” He has an idea, that will, if he's lucky enough to help him to have some type of contact with his owner.

“Shit!” Y/N was about to run to the back of the park with his heart almost coming out of her chest when Monet appears running up the path.

Y/N collapsed on the floor hugging Monet so tight by the neck feeling all the air she's been containing finally out, taking the weight from her chest.

“God! I was so scared.” Monet breathes incessantly as he moves his head around.

What calls for her attention is a strange crunch around his neck under the bandanna; she lifted it carefully and saw a small roll of paper.

“What is this?” She observes her dog with narrow eyes as she unrolls a fine?

“YOU HAVE A FINE?!” Y/N sits on the ground chuckling at the funny situation of her dog carrying a fine.

The scrappy writing helps her to understand.

>I'm so sorry, I lost the toy of Monet and we're searching for it so he refused to go and… I'm so sorry to make you feel worried, I'll fix it I promise.

-JB

Y/N sees Monet thinking how bad the kid must be feeling for lost the toy and probably being search by Officer Lynch around the park.

“We will fix this later, now, I'm going to work late, let's go boy.” Monet barks as she puts the leash in his collar.

That's what she plans until the meeting that afternoon, things are going pretty well and the company has a last minute plan for Valentine's day, one more time she is stuck in her house for days.

Y/N loves her work, she never dreams about working in webtoons, however from the first second she was linked with the first writer she knew, she found her dream job.

“Y/N!” Savannah screams from the entrance letting go Monet for finding his owner. “We're here.”

Monet does his routine, the one he does every time he comes back home with her, before going to drink water.

“One minute!” Y/N mixing the colours properly makes the transition smoother.

“Pizza?” Savannah is tired, she loved cooking unless she's tired

“Sure.”

Savannah perks to the room. “Hey, Nora couldn't take him to the park, but he's been my help dog these days.”

Y/N smirks, the last thing she could picture is Monet helping, he’s an amazing boy but with so much energy for helping dogs who are recovering.

“Believe me, I bet some ladies are following him more than I expect.” Savannah said walking back with her phone in her hands ready for making the order.

Y/N takes a quick glimpse of the canva next to her, the park when the summer begins, and couldn't avoid worrying for the little kid who probably is expecting Monet every day.

She laid her down head on the chair. “Wait a little bit kid, but I'm stuck here.”

Two pizzas later, they crash on the carpet, Savannah jumps remembering something.

“Oh, I've been asking and nothing.” Savannah turns around her head to see Y/N “No one knows where we can find a toy like that.”

All these days Y/N has been searching on the internet, in her small runaways to the mall but nothing.

Y/N sighs, she hopes to be able to go to the park for Monet goes with his friend.

“You will take the fine with you?” For Savannah, it is still a hilarious story about small talk through a fine.

Y/N giggles. “How will communicate with him?” She keeps that fine in her bag. “I don't want to scare him going to him with Monet after disappearing for days.”

Y/N feels already bad thinking probably the kid believes it's his fault and she's mad.

“I choose the notes over the talk.”

Joe feels awful he goes back searching for a new toy but they ran out of it. So he went to the park moving his hands against each other trying to find the words to introduce to Monet's owner but all seemed worse than the last one.

“Hey I'm Joe, I lost your dog's toy, besides he's been with me these days helping with the recovery and more than that.”

He gets down his head, that definitely sounds awkward.

It only increases after the second day Monet didn't appear, and Officer Lynch said he hasn’t see him either.

She's mad, definitely mad.

Either way Joe continued going every morning hoping to find Monet but for two weeks he didn't come.

The following week he had things to do outside of Cincinnati but his mind couldn't avoid thinking about his furry friend.

“Morning Joe.” Officer Lynch said founding him at the entrance after finishing his shift. “A little bit late, huh?”

It's around 9 am, by that time he's usually back at home having his breakfast, still he just goes there for a routine.

“A little friend has been waiting for you for a long time.” Joe opened his eyes running to the beach as he said thanks to the Officer who giggled; Joe looks like a kid running to see a lifetime friend.

Monet was the first one to hear him and smell him, by the time Joe was about to see the bench Monet was barking, running to him gasping as moves around him happy to see him.

Joe kneels and the long licks in his hand as the sniffing around him, is his clear show of love.

“I miss you too buddy.” Joe patted him from his head to his back before hugging him around his neck.

The crunchy sound calls for his attention, by Monet eager movements his bandanna moves and he sees the fine and his writing.

“Is it for me?” Monet sees him gasping.

He unties the fine around his collar.

>We're not mad! I'm sorry I had tons of work these weeks. Don't worry I'll keep looking for the toy, it helps me if you tell me where you find it.

P.D. Monet loves freebies.

P.D 2 It's been a week, please Monet miss his friend, don't stop playing with him.

It's just a simple mistake.

P.D 3 Why am I even writing this? 😂

The perfectly drawn emoji makes Joe giggles, as the first P.D where the ink is more dull helps him to understand in fact she’s been writing every week he wasn’t here.

“It's kind of witty your owner, huh?” Joe scratches the back of his head.

Monet carefully smells his hand still with a bandage on it.

“Oh, I'm getting better.”

Joe takes another look at the note one more time, smirking at the fact she actually writes in blue or green tint.

“A frisbee, I can get more than one, you know.” He kisses Monet's head. “A colour in mind?”

Monte barks jumping over him in a clear sign of bliss.

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Tag:@harryweeniee @hellsingalucard18

#joe burrow #joe shiesty #fic #fanfic #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fic #joe x reader “joe burrow fan fic #joe brrr #joseph lee burrow #nfl fic

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percywinchester27 · 1 day ago

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The new Mrs. Winchester (21)

Word count: 3.3K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence and murder; reader discretion is strongly advised.

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: Look who is posting regularly now ;)

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23

The new Mrs. Winchester masterlist

“Miss, you can’t keep waiting by the door for him all day!”

“Watch me,” you muttered and Abby let out a sigh. She must be convinced of your obsessive insanity by now.

“I called Jack and he called Castiel. Mr Winchester will not be back before evening. You will fall sick in this cold.”

“It’s already five… won’t be long before evening. You go on.”

Abby gave you a look that most definitely doubted your sanity but left you at the foot of the staircase where you sat with your book, feet tapping so rapidly, that the anklet Sam had gifted you started to sting.

For the umpteenth time, you wondered what the last, engraved square charm stood for.

Abby had seen you through a week's worth of anxiety but did not know the reason behind it. You knew. Sam was to return today and he had every intention of completely avoiding you and there was no way you were giving him that chance.

Since finding it, you had read Sam’s letter so many times, that the crumpled paper had lost most of its composition and now lay flat, the words already etched in your mind. At first, the pain and sadness in his words riddled you like bullets, but the more time you spent with his words, the angrier you felt about the whole situation.

How dare he apologise for saving you? Stupid, stupid man! How dare he make you fall in love with him even more?

Admitting to the things he’d admitted to couldn’t have been easy… his childhood, how he truly thought himself to be responsible for his mother’s death and then Jo’s. How his father had treated him, and watching his brother, the only family he had known waste away right in front of his eyes just like his father.

You shuddered to yourself, thinking of your Han that way. Dean had an easy-going way about him. If bringing you into the picture had eased his anguish, how could it have been a bad thing? Sam, with his principles, couldn’t forgive himself for the act, but you, who was the one affected by it, wanted to find him and kiss his hands for signing that cheque now. He hadn’t just saved his brother, he had also saved you.

Then there were things he’d admitted to about you.

…but what if I confessed that I liked the fall of your hair…

… I could nearly imagine the feel of your skin, your lips…

A soft shiver ran through your body at the recollection.

If Sam had stripped himself naked before you, he’d have still been less vulnerable. By admitting to the shame he felt over the simple act of choosing you, he’d bared more than you in that godforsaken picture. You understood him now… understood him to the depth of his soul.

But you wished he understood that with all his principles, he was only a man. And he couldn’t keep punishing himself for having the reactions and instincts of one.

…How am I any better than all those men? How could I ever face you after that?

Reading those words? All you wanted to do was climb into his skin, dissolve into his being and hold him so tight, he’d never feel that shame again.

Footsteps echoed outside the door and you got to your feet, the book falling to the ground with a thump. Had you been less lost in thought, you would have realised those footsteps didn’t have the crispness of Sam’s.

“Hey, Honeybun!” Nick smirked. “Waiting for me?”

The air in your throat coagulated then disappeared to nothing seeing his face.

“You are as jawdroppingly gorgeous as ever.”

“And you are just as bastardly,” you heard yourself say. Any other day words might have evaded you, but living through Sam’s anguish over something he had no control over, made you livid at this asshole’s audacity, who hadn’t lost even a second of his sleep over destroying your life.

“Oh, she shows teeth now,” he said silkily.

“Get out of my house,” you hissed. “Get lost before I call the security.”

“And tell them what?” He challenged. “Why you’re kicking Sam’s cousin out? Mary was my mother’s sister, you know. I’m part of the Trust. Or do you not want the people in your house to know about us.”

“There’s no us.”

Nick took a few calculated steps close to you. “Come on now, Y/N. I know you love your secrets, you’ve always thrived in them. Secret siblings in a boarding school. Never thought I would become your dirty little secret, too.” He grinned and you shuddered. “What a privilege.”

He circled you slowly and you pressed into the balustrade, grabbing the handrail.

“Poor little Sammy, does he know how you secretly met his brother at the pier in the middle of the night? That’s right, I saw little Y/N sneaking out in the dark. Do you still have Dean’s leather jacket in your drawer?”

The blood in your vein suddenly ran cold. “S- Sam knows… Dean and I are friends… He knows.”

“Tch Tch Tch,” laughed Nick, the sound grating your brain. “Sam knows his brother thinks of you as his friend. But you tell me, which respectable wife would tiptoe out of the house in the middle of the night to meet a complete stranger? Now good Ol’ Deano knew who you were, but you didn’t know who he was, did he now? So didn’t you lie to your husband about your secret rendezvous with a man?” He sighed dramatically. “What they say is true after all. Once a slut… always a slut.”

“Don’t you…”

“Dare?” He mocked, hands in air. “Does Sammy even know everything you did with me? Did to me? That you’ve gone down on your knees for me and–

The clatter of a briefcase had you jumping out of your skin.

Sam stood over the threshold, face white as a board.

“Sammy!” Nick greeted with glee. “My man! You look ready to drop. Bad trip?”

He placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and Sam shirked it away in disdain.

“I was just telling Y/N how wonderful it is to catch up with her after all these years. Did you know we used to date in college? Well, she was in college anyway. I never had time for that shit.”

Nick turned to face you with a grin. “I was telling her how… great she still looks. Doesn’t she?”

At long last Sam’s gaze slid from Nick to you, absolute disbelief etched in his expression.

You stared back helplessly.

When Nick turned back around, Sam had gathered his expression and settled into a perfectly blank face.

“Nick,” said Sam, voice composed. “I had a long flight back and I’m in no mood to see your face when I could have a much better view. I’d much rather be in bed, having dinner with my wife than stand around listening to you reminiscing about things that don’t matter anymore.”

“You knew?” Nick challenged, doubtful.

Sam picked up his briefcase and briskly crossed the distance, surpassing Nick. “I sure remember gagging when Y/N mentioned it in passing. I find it hard to believe she had such terrible taste.” He picked up your fallen book and handed it to you, beginning to take the steps. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do.”

At the top step, he turned and said, “Y/N, come on up. Find Abby and get her to send the dinner up for us. I’m starving.” With that, he disappeared into the corridor.

Shock held you in place for a few moments, but eventually, you turned your back on that grinning bastard and followed Sam up the steps. The door to his room was already closed and when you tried to push it open, the door held.

“Damn it,” you cursed, crossing to the next door and getting into your own room. Things were already as fucked as they could get and this was not how you had wanted Sam to find out about Nick.

Horrifyingly, Sam and Dean now had one-half of the story. Dean knew your boyfriend had sold you to the boss and now Sam knew Nick had been the boyfriend. Only you knew the whole truth and had known it for a while. The mole on the estate that the brothers were searching for had to be none other than Nick. After all how many such assholes could be around? And it made perfect sense now. Nick was part of the Estate Trust, someone who could have easily offered Rosalie a new job, and lured all these women associated with the estate into the flesh trade. Even Jo, who might have just stopped the car to acknowledge Dean’s cousin had paid for that mistake with her life.

The true horror of the situation was how you could tell neither brother the truth because if Dean found out that Nick was the reason his fiance was dead, he would kill Nick and the boss would know. And if Sam found out what your Ex-boyfriend had done… you still remembered the murderous rage in his eyes when he’d found out about Michael inserting hot pins in your heels. If he confronted Nick, the boss would still know. Then what would happen to Jamie and Danny? You’d never see them again.

The sheer helplessness of holding the Ace that Sam and Dean so desperately sought in your hand, and yet unable to hand it to them.

Now, Sam knew and you felt ashamed of what he must be thinking.

Rushing inside the bedroom vestibule, you pushed at the connecting door, but for the first time, found it locked… from the other side.

“Sam!” you banged on the wood. “Open the door.”

Nothing.

“Open the damn door! Let me explain.”

Oh, how the tables had turned. What a wretched feeling to be on the other side, locked out. The medicine did not taste sweet.

“Open the door,” you tried again. “P-L-E-A-S-E”

Except the last word came out as knocks and pats on the wood.

You were about to give up when the door opened and you were only a couple feet away from Sam. Being away from him for an extended amount of time always made you forget just how tall he was and right now the buttons of his shirt appeared more appealing than meeting his eyes.

“What?” Sam asked, point blank, his voice without inflection.

All you wanted to do was close the little distance and hug him, but the two steps in between felt like miles.

“Won’t you invite me in?”

A second passed, and then Sam moved aside. “It’s your house as much as mine. You’re welcome to any part of it.”

Tears pricked your eyes. Sam’s words and tone were polite, but each detached syllable stung like a pin in your heel.

“So this is how it’s going to be?” You remained resolutely at the threshold.

“How?”

Something about Sam’s quiet rage rankled you from the inside. Despite his absence, you felt like you had uncovered more of Sam from Dean’s words and then his letter. Sam had always seemed like an ocean on the verge of breaking into a cyclone, that something always simmered under it, barely restrained, but dangerous all the same. Seeing him now, face cast out of stone, you finally understood how he could have fooled all the staff into thinking of him as a cold man. The truth was that whatever darkness he restrained within him, whether it was anger, fear or hatred, all of that was at its thinnest now. If you pushed, that unhinged darkness, for better or for worse, would come unleashed.

You decided to push it.

Crossing into the room you walked past Sam and took a seat at the edge of the bed. He stared at you. Sam had gone from bad to worse… his skin was shallow and his eyes sunken, looking nearly black in their intensity.

“What do you want, Y/N?”He asked once more, not moving an inch.

“I want to talk.”

“Yeah?” He walked to the bed, towering over you. “Now you want to talk?”

You ignored the question and countered with your own.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“How much, Sam?”

“Nick’s your college boyfriend.” He took a deep breath and let it out. Calming the sea, keeping the cyclone at bay. “It’s alright. You don’t owe me answers.”

But you weren’t having any of it. “Yeah, he’s the one I told you about on our walk into the forest. My boyfriend from back home. We used to go on long rides on his Harley, cruising through the streets of California on hot nights. He was shacking up in a friend’s place in LA and he’d take me there on Friday evenings all the way to Sunday morning. Just the two of us–”

“That’s.. That’s enough. I don’t want to hear it.” His fists were clenched, tendons standing out white against his skin.

“Why?” You shouted, getting to your feet. “You’re my friend and you told me I can share anything with you. So why not?”

He twisted his body and grasped your shoulder with both his hands, fingers digging into your skin. “You know why!” His sunken eyes were watery, the white tinged with red. “You know why, Y/N. Don’t do this to me, don’t break me like this.”

You finally closed the distance, snaking your arms around his thin waist. “He is nothing but a person from my past. Nothing. Do you understand?”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? You locked yourself for days when you saw him at the inauguration. It’s been a month since and you never said a word.”

Stepping back, you looked up at Sam and admitted part of the truth. “I was ashamed. Seeing him reminded me of my past in the most jarring way, and you’ve been so kind to me, I suppose I needed time to wrap my head around it all.”

Sam peered into your face, scrutinising.

“Believe me, please.”

He deflated just a little, then nodded.

“But him? Really?” His incredulity nearly broke you, but you held your own. “Of all people, Nick?”

Oh, if only Sam knew.

“I was naive and daddy issues are a thing.” You shrugged. “C’mon, let's go to our room. All your clothes are there and you need a shower.”

Taking his hand in yours, you led Sam back over the threshold into your bedroom and closed the connecting door behind you.

He took the room in for a minute then dragged his feet to the walk-in-wardrobe. “I’m not hungry,” he said passing you. “Just call for some coffee.”

You still had Abby bring in some fruits along with the coffee. She sat by you, nibbling on a piece of apple as Sam finished in the shower, then waited long enough to wish Sam a good night when he returned. Sam had stepped out in a thin wet tshirt, hair dripping water into the neckline, and a towel wrapped around his waist. The way Abby averted her gaze, face flaming, gave you an idea.

She left quickly after and you watched Sam put on his drawstring pants and then remove the towel from around his waist. He got on his side of the bed, pulled the covers over his legs and reached for the cup of coffee.

“How do you expect to sleep if you drink coffee right before?” You asked, but then couldn’t help adding. “Not that the thing in the cup is remotely close to coffee. Stop doing business in Bali if this is what they give you in return.”

Sam rolled his eyes while taking a sip. “Enough with the coffee already.”

“It’s such a shame that you came out of the bathroom wearing the t-shirt today. Remember that time you came out with just the towel wrapped around your waist? Short towel, too.”

He drained his cup, put it back on the side table and faced you, brow furrowed. “When?”

“Last time you were here. Great abs. Guess all that working out helps, huh?” You put your fingers on his arm. “And that time we were all wet in the shed? I slipped and fell on you, I could feel the bulk of your muscles. Made my throat go dry.”

Sam gulped. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Very slowly, holding his gaze, you moved to straddle his hips and Sam flattened himself against the headboard, a deer caught in headlight.

“The first time I saw you, Sam Winchester, even through the veil, I knew you were an attractive man and I can’t count the number of times I have found myself staring at your body— the shoulders, the chest, arms, all of it. If you want me to go into details about what seeing you shirtless does to me, you are welcome to be my guest, but the point is, I don’t feel ashamed about it. I don’t feel ashamed about a natural reaction.”

“You read the letter…”

Raising your hand, you gently skimmed the side of his face with the back of it and he closed his eyes at the touch.

“I did, and now you know how I feel. What are you going to do now?”

“It’s different,” he said finally. “You didn’t pay money–”

“You said yourself that you paid the price for my freedom, for a chance to know the truth about Jo and not for my body.”

“You don’t understand–”

“Don’t complicate emotions to the point of no return, Sam. I’ve wanted to kiss you, and I took both of those chances.” You leaned it, face inches away from his now, lips only a whisper away from his. “But you didn’t answer my question. What are you going to do now?”

He opened his eyes, and they smouldered. Sam’s fingers found your hair and fisted in them. He crushed his lips to yours, devouring your mouth. His other hand slid from the base of your throat, down your body, decidedly feeling the shape of you. You followed his lead, rejoicing in it… in the following. His self-control had cracked at last and he was finally staking the claim, he should have staked a long time ago… making the first move, claiming what was his… you.

Maybe it was seeing you with Nick, knowing about your past, or hearing your admission, that had caused the careful wall of self-control that Sam always held around you to crumble. Some of that self-control must have survived because he broke off, breathing hard.

“I’m not going to apologise,” he said.

“You better not.”

Sam smiled, skin stretching over his cheekbones, but it still lit his eyes. “Yes, Ma’am.”

When he slid into the bed, he grabbed your hand and pulled you against his side instead of restricting himself to his end of the bed. “Sleep, Y/N. We have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Humour me,” he said. “I have the day planned.”

“Okay,” you agreed readily, then wound your hand around his waist, snuggling as close as you could. Between the two of you much had been said, and even more implied, yet a lot was yet to to be put into words. But Sam was here now and you had all of tomorrow. Right now you simply wanted to savour the feeling of holding the man you loved in your arms and being held by him.

*****************************

A/N 2: I LOVED writing this chapter! The nuances of Sam’s admission and the delicate nature of his emotions were just so damn satisfying to put into words! What did you think?

Oh, I can’t wait to share what’s coming with you!

Please do let me know what you think of this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!

If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

Taglist:

@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan

@stoneyggirl2 @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough

@impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis

@mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @mlovesstories

@sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted

@little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore

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@giggles1029 @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo @sammysgirl

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@vickyfarley @esoltis280 @mayafatimakhan @sweetiecelin

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester reader insert #spn fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #anawrites #Ana writes Sam #Ana writes TNMW #tnmw21 #anawritesspn #q

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bvrnesher · 6 hours ago

Note

Hi! I hope you day is going well, could you do headcanons for Leo Valdez? Like, if he was Spider-Man and he had a crush on the reader please?

sure thing, babe!

SPIDER-MAN ! LEO VALDEZ

cw: none.

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐳 ! 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓-𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔?

Leo Valdez as spider-man would be chaotic. Chaotic Neighborhood Hero – If anyone thought normal Spider-Man was chaotic, they clearly haven’t seen Leo in action. He’s web-swinging upside down, making fire-powered aerial flips, and cracking way too many jokes mid-fight. Villains either get mad or give up from sheer frustration.

Leo Valdez who Flirts While Crime-Fighting – If you happen to be around when he’s in costume, he’s ten times more dramatic.

“Don’t worry, citizen! Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man has got this.”

“I know I look cool right now, but please, try not to fall for me.” (He totally hopes you do fall for him.)

Leo Valdez is like... Leo vs. His Own Secret Identity – He wants to tell you he’s Spider-Man, but also, he definitely wants to impress you as himself, too.

He’ll do stuff like accidentally mention something Spider-Man did, then awkwardly try to cover it up.

“Oh yeah, Spidey totally took down three guys in an alley yesterday—uh, I mean, I heard about that. From a...news thing. Haha.”

Leo Valdez who swings past your window every single night, even when he has no reason to be there. He’ll make up some excuse like “Just doing my patrol!” but he’s really just hoping to see you.

Leo Valdez who saves you once and is so smug about it.

“No need to thank me, mi amor—wait, actually, do thank me. Maybe with a kiss?”

Leo Valdez who panics every time you mention thinking Spider-Man is cool. Like, “Cool how? Cool in a ‘wow, I wanna date him’ way? Or cool in a ‘he’s a neat guy’ way?” Please clarify. It’s for science.

Leo Valdez who tries to act smooth around you but trips over his own webbing. One second, he’s flirting. The next, he’s flat on the ground, groaning. “You saw nothing.”

Leo Valdez who builds his own web-shooters and casually adds a mini flamethrower just because he can.

Leo Valdez who absolutely shows off whenever you’re around. Swings upside down, does unnecessary flips, probably almost crashes into a building because he’s too busy flirting with you mid-swing.

Leo Valdez who “casually” webs your hand so you have to hold his, and when you call him out, he just grins, “Oops. Guess we’re stuck like this forever.”

Leo Valdez who leaves you dumb, flirty notes written in webbing. You wake up to see “Good morning, beautiful ;)” webbed to your wall, and you have no proof it was him.

Leo Valdez who gets jealous of… himself.

If you mention Spider-Man is cool, he plays it off like “Yeah, I mean, he’s alright.” Meanwhile, he’s internally screaming because yes, he is Spider-Man, but you don’t know that and it’s killing him.

Leo Valdez who literally forgets how to speak when you kiss him while he’s still in the mask.

His brain just short-circuits. Stands there, completely frozen, before finally stammering, “…Uh. Can you do that again?”

Leo Valdez and superhero Dates (Without You Knowing) – Since he’s not technically allowed to tell you, he still finds ways to protect and impress you as Spider-Man.

Walks you home while swinging overhead, just to make sure you’re safe.

If it’s raining, he accidentally webs an umbrella to you from above.

You keep getting “lucky” when bad guys show up, because Spidey just so happens to be nearby every time.

Leo Valdez who saves little bits of web fluid so he can make you cute, tiny web sculptures. (They don’t last forever, but he makes you new ones all the time—little hearts, flowers, or tiny robots just for you.)

Leo Valdez who literally melts when you tell him you already knew.

(“WAIT, YOU KNEW?! AND YOU LET ME EMBARRASS MYSELF FOR MONTHS?!”)

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐, 𝒔.

#bvrnesher #‧₊˚✧ s. posting !#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #riordanverse x reader #pjo x reader #pjo series #hoo #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #spiderman #headcanon #pjo headcanon #pjo hephaestus

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sitkowski · 3 days ago

Text

when it's time ( noah sebastian x nick folio )

pairing: noah sebastian x nick folio

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ a massive amount of fluff and holiday related cliches. new boyfriends, first time, making out, hand jobs, anal sex, marking/biting, praise kink.

word count: 4.1k

author's note: happy valentine's day pals! bless everyone who gave a hand in this one, they know who they are. title comes from the green day song. divider by @saradika-graphics 🩵

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

Nick finds the box of candy hearts in his bunk. There’s nothing special about it, just one of those little pink cartons they have out in every grocery, convenience store and gas station around this time of year. The colorful candies rattle around in the box noisily as he picks it up and eyes it almost suspiciously. It takes a few minutes to click that this is the first time ever he’s had a significant other on Valentine’s Day. He’s been used to Noah leaving him little presents for a while even before they began dating; an obscene enamel pin for his leather jacket, a hat he found at a truck stop in some no name town between shows. But somehow, this little box of candy means something else entirely.

This thing with him and Noah is so new, he can count on one hand the number of dates they went on before the tour began, and they haven’t exactly had the time to put much focus into their new relationship with the album doing so well and getting more shows booked. They were in a freaking bus now instead of their van, and it felt like it had come out of nowhere that they were on the rise that they were on going from the van to hotels to the bus. Nick felt secure with Noah, but he still saw the box of candy at some sort of sign. Instead of going to him and asking him about it, Nick goes to the person who knows Noah best.

“What does this mean?” he asks Nicholas, holding out the box to him.

“It’s candy, Folio. You eat it.”

Nick squints at him, contemplating chucking the box at his head. He’s only got so much time before Noah and Jolly are back from the interview they were doing. “No, I know that, genius. But Noah left them for me.”

“Oh,” Nicholas nods almost solemnly. “Well you see, when a boy likes another boy very much—”

His words are cut off when a candy heart hits him square in the forehead.

Nick reminds himself that it was Nicholas who set him and Noah up in the first place, and he’s just being difficult because it’s his right as Noah’s best friend. That’s the only thing that keeps him from throwing another. He waits almost patiently while Nicholas stares at him in mock offense before he grabs the candy from where it had landed on his shirt and pops it into his mouth.

“Look, we’re gonna be at a hotel that night. Take him out, or get something to eat and watch some movies. He’s not gonna be expecting some big thing.”

As far as advice goes, it’s exactly what Nick needs to hear but he’s still not entirely convinced. “He won’t think that’s boring?”

“Believe me, all he’s going to care about is that he’s with you.” Nicholas laughs at him, not unkindly. “You’ll be fine.”

It takes everything Nick has to just nod and believe him. Things have been perfect with Noah, and he’s sure that he won’t need to do something big or elaborate when they haven’t even made this exclusive yet and he isn’t even sure if Noah actually likes the holiday beyond leaving him a little treat that cost him less than five bucks. And honestly all that really matters is that they’ll have a day off that he can spend with Noah. He can’t stop thinking about how well the two of them fit together. The holiday is irrelevant to whether or not they—Noah and Nick, Nick and Noah—work as a couple.

When Noah finds him later, he’s sprawled out on the back lounge sofa, watching reruns of Man vs. Food. Noah’s nose wrinkles as he watches the guy shovel half a pizza into his mouth just to win a t-shirt, before he finally turns his attention to Nick. He’s still got the candies, absently eating them as he watches the show. Some of them taste gross, but he still eats them because Noah gave them to him.

Nick doesn’t ask about the interview, just moves the box out of Noah’s way and sits up long enough to pull him down on the couch with him, until he fits himself into the space between Nick’s body and the sofa cushions. Nick twists around so that they’re face to face.

“Hi,” he says softly.

Noah gives him an amused look. “Hi yourself. Are you comfy now?”

“Yep,” Nick fishes around in the box and pulls out one of the green hearts, holding it up for him to read. It says kiss me on it in bright pink letters. “Hm, good advice.”

The first thing Nick ever heard from Noah when they met was his laugh, and he’s pretty sure he fell in love with him even if he didn’t know it at the time. Noah lets out one of those delighted laughs now, taking the candy from between Nick’s fingers before leaning over and kissing him like it suggested. It’s impossible to avoid the pleased noise that escapes him as Noah’s fingers gently curl around his jaw; Nick will never ever get tired of this. The taste of the candy still lingers on Noah’s tongue as it brushes against his and Nick reaches up to push Noah’s hair behind his ears, only for it to fall right back into both of their faces.

He slots a knee between Noah’s legs, if only to get closer to him. He’s content to just lay here and trade kisses until his lips are tingling and Noah’s practically half asleep in his arms. He thinks he feels the bus start to move, but he doesn’t want to disturb this moment if he doesn’t have to.

“Thank you. For the candy.” Nick says finally.

Noah hums and taps his fingers against the side of Nick’s face. “You’re welcome, baby.”

The endearment lights up something in Nick’s chest and he nudges his nose against Noah’s cheek before pressing a kiss there. He brings the candy box back up from where it’s been crushed between them, and pulls out another heart. This one is purple, with the writing a little faded. The imprinted words are still visible enough.

“What’s it say?” Noah asks.

Turning it around, Nick lets him read it. He watches the way Noah’s eyes crinkle when he smiles widely. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Nick pops the heart that says I love you into his mouth.

Noah likes waking up with Nick. He’s been doing it for years since they started touring, before they even thought of getting together. When they’d slept in the van, or crashed in someone’s basement after a show. They can’t really sleep beside one another in the bunks, no matter their height difference it just doesn’t work out comfortably. But when he wakes up alone, he’s confused and a little disappointed for a few seconds. He sees all of Nick’s stuff still tossed on the second bed with his and when he sits up, he finds the note stuck to the lamp shade that Nick had left. Relief settles in him when he realizes that he’s only gone to get breakfast.

When he hears the thudding knock against their door, he crawls out of bed. Nick’s on the other side and Noah blinks at him when he realizes that he’s loaded down with not only a tray of coffees for them, but food bags and a few plastic bags from the Walgreens down the road from the hotel. Nick leans up to drop a kiss on his cheek as he walks in, sitting everything down on the table by the window.

“I see you got more than breakfast,” Noah observes.

Nick pulls a coffee from the tray and hands it to him. It does something to Noah every time he notices little things like Nick having memorized his coffee preferences. The first hit of caffeine burns his tongue a little, and he looms over Nick’s shoulder as he starts to pull food out of bags.

“What else did you get?” he asks, eying the stuff from the drugstore. “If I had known you were gonna go on a shopping spree I’d have gotten up to go with you.”

Nick’s cheeks are pink when he picks up one of the bags and holds it out to Noah. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Whatever is in the bag is soft, and Noah drops back down on the bed to start going through it with excitement. He pulls out a variety of plush animals, each holding a little heart or having a saying on them. There’s an otter that says U R Otter This World, and a puppy with a bone that says I Woof You. Noah holds up a stuffed lamb with a t-shirt that says I Love Ewe, and he realizes he can’t stop smiling.

“I didn’t know which one you’d like, so I bought them all.” Nick mumbles.

“You are too fucking cute,” Noah sits aside his coffee and tugs on Nick’s hand, pulling him down onto his lap and kissing him softly. “Thank you. I love them all.”

Nick looks proud of himself and he tucks Noah’s hair behind his ears, bumping his forehead against his.

“There might be some other stuff in one of the bags for later.”

“Later, huh?” Noah grins and Nick’s face gets even more flushed. “You got plans up your sleeve for me, Nick Folio?”

“I…I meant candy, you perv,” Nick says but Noah knows that’s not entirely true. “C’mon, let’s eat breakfast before it gets cold.”

He squirms his way out of Noah’s lap and pulls him over to the table. Noah would tease him more, but the food smells good and he lets himself be distracted. He’s also completely enamored with Nick getting him breakfast and cute little gifts for the holiday. It’s not lost on him that he’s Nick’s first boyfriend. He likes that about him, and maybe there is a tiny part of him that is selfishly happy to be the first and hopefully the last.

“What do you say to getting a shower and doing some sightseeing?” Noah asks after they’ve finished eating.

“I’d like that,” Nick says and Noah gets up from the table. He holds out a hand and Nick gives him a look. “Oh, we’re showering together. That’s environmentally friendly.”

Laughing, Noah tugs on his hand, “Yeah that’s exactly what I was thinking about, water conservation.”

As soon as they’re in the bathroom, Nick strips out of his shirt and reaches into the shower stall to turn on the water. The bathroom fills with steam quickly and Noah tugs off his own shirt. He feels Nick’s eyes on him as they take off the rest of their clothes. He plants a hand in the middle of Noah’s chest, guiding him backwards until they’re both stepping into the stall. He can’t take his eyes off of him as he tips his head back under the spray. Nick’s watching him too, and the corner of his mouth tilts up as he runs his hands through his hair.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come closer? I thought we were sharing water.”

Noah doesn’t hesitate to fit himself into his space, putting his hands on Nick’s hips to turn him around so that he’s the one beneath the water now. Nick presses a kiss to the underside of Noah’s chin before grabbing his shampoo. They take turns beneath the water, not getting too distracted at first. But once they’re both rinsed off, Noah can’t help himself.

“Can I touch you?” he asks softly, pulling Nick close.

Nick answers him with a quick nod, before wrapping a hand around his wrist and guiding it down until Noah’s fingers close around him. His cock twitches in his grasp and Nick grins with a soft exhale. Noah moves his hand slowly, every sound escaping him shooting straight to his gut. He dips his head down and kisses his neck as he jerks him off, slow and easy.

"Fuck, this is so good," Noah murmurs with his lips against Nick's skin. He runs his hand up the length of Nick’s cock. "This is already so good."

“Noah,” Nick sighs out his name, hands coming up to grab onto the sides of his face and pull his mouth to his. His hips rock into Noah’s hand, the water falling around them starting to cool. Noah backs him up against the glass door and Nick whines against his mouth. “Please—”

“Okay, I’ve got you,” Noah promises, stroking him faster. Nick’s eyes clench shut and he knocks his head back against the door. “You’re so good, baby. So good for me. Just let me take care of you.”

He pulls Nick’s full bottom lip between his teeth, nipping him just so and Nick groans, coming all over his hand. The water washes everything away and Noah leans back in to kiss him senseless. He pulls away, panting for air as Nick gets a hand between them, getting his hand on Noah’s cock. Unlike Noah, he doesn’t try to draw it out, fist moving fast enough that Noah’s knees nearly buckle. It shouldn’t surprise him how fast he’s able to find a rhythm, even like this.

“Do you want more?” Nick asks, still a little breathless. “I could—”

Noah cuts him off, shaking his head. He isn’t going to expect that from him when he’s never done something like this before. “No, this is perfect, just like this.”

“Okay,” he says lightly, even as he runs his thumb over the head of Noah’s cock, hard and steady. “You are gonna let me suck you off one day though, right?”

Noah lets out a disbelieving moan, his head falling forward to Nick’s shoulder. His answering laugh tickles Noah’s ear, and he turns his head to sink his teeth into Nick’s neck in retaliation. This only makes him stroke his cock faster, and Noah wonders what kind of publicity they’d get if he slipped and broke something in the shower while getting a handjob from his boyfriend slash bandmate on Valentine’s Day.

He’s already so close, just from this and from getting Nick off first. Noah brings one of his hands down, over Nick’s, guiding him. Nick tips his head back against the glass again, using his free hand to tug on Noah’s hair until he gets the message and kisses him. Every noise that Noah makes, he swallows down.

“Are you gonna come for me, honey?” Nick asks.

Noah doesn’t answer with words, he simply comes, just like that.

Nick hasn’t been able to stop staring at Noah. They’ve been out wandering the town for a few hours, and it’s probably pretty shady of him that all Nick can think about is getting him back to their hotel room later. Every time he lets himself think about it, he can hear the sounds Noah was making in the shower, and Nick cannot turn his brain off. If Noah notices how twitchy he is, he doesn’t say anything. They’re sitting together in a quiet park, and when Noah catches him looking this time, he lifts their joined hands together and presses a kiss to Nick’s knuckles.

Nick fucking swoons.

Before he can say anything, an older woman approaches them. “Flower for your valentine?”

She’s got a basket of vibrant red roses hooked over one arm, and Nick gives Noah a little smile before reaching for his wallet. “How about two?”

He probably pays too much for two roses, but she hands them both one with a smile before heading off. Nick likes the way Noah lifts it to his nose and smells it. He laughs that laugh that Nick fell in love with.

“What’s that look for?”

Nick looks from his face to the roses again. “I just love you.”

“I love you too, Nicky,” Noah leans in and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

They leave the park and go get lunch before they finally make their way back to the hotel. Nick can’t help but think of the things he’s got tucked among the candies in his shopping bags. And maybe he waits until Noah’s a little distracted before he starts lighting the little candles that he bought, placing them around the room. He’s hyper aware when he’s finally being watched.

Noah’s mouth twists. “You know my history with candles right?”

“You won’t be touching the candles, you’ll be touching me.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t touching the candle then either—”

Nick grabs Noah by his shirt and kisses him until he stops talking. He manages to put out a hand and find the light switch, leaving the room lit only by the candles. Gently, he shoves Noah down until he’s sitting on the end of the bed.

“You’re gonna fuck me in this bed,” he declares. “We’ll order some room service for dinner, watch some trash tv and maybe you can fuck me again in the morning before bus call. If that works for you.”

Noah’s mouth opens and then closes, and he draws in a deep breath before trying again. “Yeah, that works for me.”

Nick nods and tries to step back but Noah latches onto his hips and yanks, until he falls into his chest and they both fall back onto the mattress. Nick squirms impatiently but lets Noah kiss him, until they’re both out of air and then they start pulling at each other’s clothes.

“Have you ever done this before?” Nick asks as Noah’s leaning back to tug off his jeans.

“Once or twice. It’s been a while though,” Noah looks up at him, raking at hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. “This might sound incredibly cliche, but it’s different with you, Nick.”

“I believe you.”

They manage to get out of the rest of their clothes in a comfortable silence and Nick watches as Noah backs away long enough to grab the bottle of lube from the bag. He didn’t think to get condoms, but he trusts Noah enough to be okay with that. When Noah turns back around to look at him, Nick can see the love in his eyes and it makes it hard to breathe.

Crawling back over him, Noah brushes his fingers over Nick’s cheek and rocks forward so that their cocks slide along each other. It draws a gasp from Nick and when his lips fall open a bit, Noah leans in to kiss him. He presses him further into the mattress and distracts him with kisses again, hips rolling into his every now and then. He cups a hand under Nick’s jaw, tipping his head back so he can drag his mouth down his throat, sucking bruises here and there as he goes.

“I’ve gotta get you ready, baby,” Noah murmurs into his skin, and Nick nods rapidly. “Just relax for me.”

It takes him more than a few minutes to actually relax, but Noah’s so patient with him that it almost brings tears to his eyes. He lets Noah ease his legs apart and he only twitches a little when he hears the snap of the lube bottle cap. The first brush of fingers against his hole makes Nick jolt, but Noah strokes his free hand over his thigh, whispering calming words to him as he slowly presses first one finger into him, and then a second when he starts to relax more.

When he curls his fingers against Nick’s prostate, Nick reaches down and grabs at the sheets, arching up into it. “Another,” he begs and Noah does what he asks without question, adding a third.

Nick’s pretty sure he could come like this, and Noah would probably let him. But that’s not what he wants. He thinks about begging, about promising him that he’s ready for more, but he knows that Noah won’t give him what he wants until he’s sure.

“You gonna tell me what you want again?” Noah asks, slowing his fingers down.

Nick makes a desperate noise, back arching off the bed. “I wanna come on your cock.”

If he’d been looking at Noah, he would have seen the slack jawed expression that came across his face hearing those words, but he’d closed his eyes up until the moment that he pulled his fingers out and crawled back up Nick’s body, kissing him hard.

“Turn over for me,” Noah says, and Nick blinks up at him. “On your side.”

Nick moves how he wants him to, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he looks back over his shoulder and watches Noah slick up his cock. He spoons up behind Nick, pressing his face into his shoulder. One of his hands reaches down to push Nick's knee up and over, and he lets out a surprised moan because he didn't think it could be like this, the way Noah's opening him up now, nudging into him slowly. He can feel himself shaking and he fights the urge to grind back against him. Noah clamps his arm over him to keep him still as he pushes all of the way in.

"Hang on baby, stay still for me," he mutters against the side of Nick's face.

"Noah," he gasps, reaching up to grab onto the arm wrapped around him.

"I know, I know. I've got you."

Noah holds him close and rocks into him, slow and deep. His face presses into Nick's neck again, his hand sliding up to hold onto the underside of his jaw, pulling him back into his shoulder. A whine stutters out of Nick and he reaches down to wrap his hand around his own cock. It isn't easy but he manages to match the slow movements of Noah's cock moving inside of him.

It's not lost on him that they're not fucking, they’re making love.

"More, Noah," Nick begs, and he hears Noah choke on a breath behind him.

"Okay," he murmurs and that's all the warning he really gets.

Noah pushes at Nick's hip, changing the angle, and he drapes himself over him, hips snapping into his as he fucks him hard and deep. Nick squeezes his eyes shut, a moan forced out of him on every thrust. The tension in his stomach pulls tight like a string and then snaps, and he comes all over his fist. Noah fucks him through it, pushing him over onto his stomach. Nick moves pliantly, unable to do much more than grasp the sheets between his fingers and press his face into the bend of his arm as Noah's thrusts turn desperate and unsteady.

"Can I come inside you?"

Nick hadn't even thought about it, but he finds himself begging Noah to do so. He feels Noah press into him and go still, a jagged whine escaping him as he does exactly what Nick tells him he can. Nick can feel it and he reaches back to grab onto Noah’s hip, holding him there until he stops coming.

After, Noah presses kisses along the back of Nick’s shoulder, keeping a hand on Nick’s hip as he gently pulls out. Nick can’t help but squirm a little, but then he feels Noah’s weight settle into his back and he twists around as much as he can to kiss him.

“We should shower,” He makes a negative noise against Noah’s mouth at his suggestion, wanting nothing more than to keep him close. Noah laughs, and Nick melts. “Come on Nicky, I’m pretty sure there’s still room service and trash tv in this plan of yours.”

He relents, letting Noah pull him from the bed and towards the bathroom.

Noah wakes up with Nick pressed into his back, making him the little spoon. He squints at the time, trying to do the mental math of how long they have until bus call. It’s still a few hours away, and he remembers Nick telling him something the night before about having his way with him before they leave the hotel. His eyes catch on the two roses in a glass of water on the nightstand, and he can’t help but smile before he turns over in Nick’s arms. They can sleep a little longer.

Of course, they nearly miss bus call. They’re the last ones across the parking lot and they shove their stuff into the bay before making their way up the steps. As soon as their friends see them, they’re met with wolf whistles and catcalls. It doesn’t help that Nick’s got a spectacular set of hickeys above the collar of his hoodie and Noah’s shirt is on inside out. He’s also got the stuffed animals from Nick tucked beneath the strap of his carry on against his chest.

“I see you took my advice.” Nicholas says as Nick goes past, knocking fists with him.

⇉ taglist

Nick looks back over his shoulder, giving Noah a smile. “Something like that.”

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@kait16xo @wonh0z

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens

@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

#noah sebastian x nick folio #noah sebastian fic #nick folio fic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens smut #.fickbysitkowski

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devils-little-sistaaa · 1 day ago

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Something I think about often is Nico and Percy (and sometimes Annabeth and Thalia when they have time) staying at camp halfblood into their adult years to help Chiron look after and train all the new big three kids because there’s going to be so many of them too much for Chiron to handle he hasn’t had this many demigods in nearly 100 years that man needs help with those children.

I can totally see Percy and Nico (and Thalia when she visits) teaching them how to use their powers and weapon training. I just can’t see Nico and Percy working in mortal jobs it just don’t make sense to me. They will always be dedicating their lives to looking after other demigods especially younger generations. Grover does a lot of scouting for big three kids too he finds most of them and brings them to camp and sometimes teaches them wilderness training classes

(I’m not that big of a fan of Solangelo or Will but those of you that are : I find it fitting that Will being the best medic and only one with healing powers they’ve had in centuries would stick around to run the infirmary too and Solangelo could happen. I’m imagining a very slow burn where they kinda hate each other when they’re teenagers/young adults and have serious beef but well into their middle ages they each have a lot of personal development and slowly grow to not hate each other as much and eventually get together. Very slow burn rivals to lovers)

Maybe even Percy and Nico adopting or fostering or mentoring big three kids that have either unstable or dead mortal parents or get attacked by monsters too often with nowhere else to go and maybe don’t entirely fit in at camp like Nico used to. Those are the kids they keep an extra eye on.

I think Nico also does a bit of traveling too when things are quiet at camp. (Both before and after he gets with Will). He’s like the best most reliable communication between the Greek and Roman camps as well as the Magicians and the Underworld (he’s besties with Anubis and then by extension Walt and Sadie and Carter) (maybe Nico and Carter were together at some point before Will? When they were younger? Nico being Carters bi awakening? Yes. Love this idea.) (maybe he even sees a few people around Camp Jupiter and New Rome too) (at a different time than Carter and Will obvi he’s not a cheater). The underworld will always be a home to Nico and he stays well in contact with his father and other cthonic deities and family.

Percabeth stay together forever. Annabeth does her architect thing working for both camps and Olympus and maybe even the magicians too. She stays in contact with Magnus too but Odin has all of his architecture covered. She’s a second in communications next to Nico. Her biggest project and accomplishment is New Athens. An entire city built just for Greek adult demigods nestled in the foothills next to camp halfblood. Her and Percy and Nico and Will along with a bunch of their friends live out their retirement there in peace.

Percy and Nico become close friends over the years of working together and mentoring a lot of the same demigods. (I think Percicobeth is a possibility that could happen at some point as well) Percy is content with his life going between his home at camp and traveling with Annabeth and Nico and visiting Sally and Paul and who knew Paul turns out to be Poseidon in disguise and Estelle is a demigod. That was a little crazy for him to process at first but he eventually finds it funny and is at peace with it.

They all have their happy endings. They all have careers fitting for them. They all live full and rich lives. They all live happily ever after. Why does that lamp over there look so weird. *starts balling because I know this will never be reality*

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brucie-baby · 12 hours ago

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Little bit less dead now and I wanted to word vomit a little more.

Like I said before, I would not definitively describe pre-crisis Jason as reckless because that sounds a little too negative for a boy who genuinely did have good intentions, but he was often a little reckless. From the beginning (and to fully make it clear: this is pre-crisis Jason with his circus origin, because pre-crisis is where that line comes from), Jason had one goal: Be good enough to be Robin. He was constantly trying to prove himself despite Bruce telling him that there was no need. This mostly stems from doing death-defying stunts at the circus and always being encouraged by his parents to take risks (his parents chased after Killer Croc, they were also insane [positive]), and Bruce telling him that being Robin was too dangerous made him feel like Bruce wasn't letting him be who he truly was. (He's literally just a ginger Dick Grayson here, guys.)

After one of these instances, Bruce says, "It was ill-advised, Jason, but you didn't do wrong. On the other hand... initiative is one thing, but I wish you'd stop taking on such grand schemes for yourself. You don't have to keep proving your worth to me, I'm sold." That pretty much sums up Bruce's whole view on it at this point - Jason isn't doing anything bad because it's with the intention of doing good and it does help people in the end, but he doesn't have to take on these big missions all by himself.

Now one thing that's important to note is that Bruce did not initially want Jason to be his partner, but Jason was absolutely not having it. Before he even knew of his parents' fate, Jason had already stolen a costume from the cave and jumped in the back of the batmobile. From the get-go, Jason wanted to be Batman's partner, and Bruce wanted Jason to be his son. (This gets a bit flipped post-crisis which is infinitely frustrating to me.) Obviously both feelings end up much more mutual, the father-son one very quickly, but this is how it starts.

So essentially you've got this kid who's used to taking a lot of big risks and parents that encouraged him to take those risks (I can't tell if it sounds like I'm bashing them here? I'm not meaning to if it does), and whilst he understands that this is also life-or-death, he doesn't seem to grasp that they're entirely different circumstances. Being a skilled aerialist is not the same as fighting bad guys who want you dead. He's also got the whole Dick Grayson thing of "I'm your partner, not your weakness. Treat me as such."

That's where we get back to "Robin gives me magic!"

With all this context of Jason's intense need to prove himself, both as Robin, son of the Bruce/Batman, and Jason, son of adventurous acrobats, Joseph and Trina Todd, Robin giving him magic takes on a whole new light. I've seen a few people say that the line is more about the anonymity, or finding courage in the mantle of a hero, and while both these interpretations are totally fair, I still mostly disagree. This is Jason refusing to be treated like the child he is (he was twelve years old when Bruce took him in). This is Jason becoming... I wouldn't necessarily say cocky, but something along those lines. Like I said in the tags of that last post, this is a warning sign.

And that's not even touching on the Collins of it all. I know these comics are unrelated so you don't really have to listen to me here, but having a man become so convinced that his costume gives him magic that he grows detrimentally reckless just links them so well.

This is why I think that this could've been the starting point of his post-crisis self if the crisis had not happened. If they'd have fleshed it out a little more, slowed it down a bit, Jason gradually becoming more and more explicitly reckless and eventually violent could've worked. They'd already laid the groundwork for the recklessness. The violence and bloodlust would've taken a little longer (one of Jason's last conversations pre-crisis has him saying that Bruce has not failed by only arresting criminals instead of successfully reforming them, as the world is still a better place with them behind bars), but it still very much could have worked (Jason was quick to act and, only a few times, quick to violence, but with reason).

I was going to dig a little further into my ideal Robin!Jason origin and progression but I fear this post may be growing a little too long so I'll leave that for another time possibly.

There isn't much point to this post other than literally just rambling about Robin!Jason. I just think he's a very complex character, and fandom tends to boil him down to being 'the real golden child who loved school and never caused trouble', and that simply isn't accurate.

He did care about his grades, both pre- and post-crisis, and though he never really enjoyed homework, he still did it (pre-crisis he very much did not want to do it but he wanted to keep his grades up, and his views on schoolwork aren't really touched on in post-crisis, though it is said he does extra credit to make sure his grades stay up as high as they are). And he was always stressing Bruce - letting a villain adopt him to solve a case, running away, patrolling alone with permission, dying his hair black and stealing cash from Bruce's drawer to go help him and so on. Post-crisis, he was obviously very violent and this jump was super sudden (one comic he's telling Bruce not to give up on his methods, and the next he's saying "okay but what if they just died", but Bruce's character was also very affected by the crisis), but it's canon now, so🤷.

Basically I think fanon Jason is boring and bland. Like yeah canon Jason pretty much went from Ginger Dick Grayson to Angry Murder Machine, but that's still a lot more personality than what fanon gives him. I just really love Robin!Jason and this, I think, is why I dislike current Jason so much.

I've got a lot of thoughts about "Robin gives me magic!" and absolutely none of them are coherent but I'm sharing them anyway.

So for context: this line comes from a story in which Calendar Man is planning to kill Jason, and Bruce tells him that he can work the case but not out in the field. There's a whole thing here where Jason gives Bruce the silent treatment until Bruce calls him immature and sends him to his room. That night, Bruce apologises and explains that he can't lose Jason, and that sometimes Batman has to go out alone. Jason says he understands but sneaks out anyway, planning to take Calendar Man on his own.

When he gets back to the cave (after Bruce has been searching for him despite bleeding out), Bruce tries to scold him. This is where he says that line, and that Robin lets him do things he'd never have dared before. Bruce says that it sounds like recklessness, and Jason says no, just maturity. There's a few more bits here that I have a lot of thoughts on but these are the most relevant parts of it.

The thing I find so interesting about this is actually from a different comic from a little while before. There's this guy, Collins, who wears Catman's costume and believes it has this magical ability to give him nine lives. Collins narrowly avoids death several times (e.g. nearly hit by a truck, almost crushed by rocks) and he thinks it's the suit's doing, but actually, it was Batman following and saving him every time. While they're fighting and Collins is insisting that the suit gives him magic, Bruce thinks, "I've created a monster - he's completely reckless - unwilling to concede there's any danger his costume can't handle!"

Now I also have a lot of thoughts on this that I might get into when it's not five in the morning but the main one is this: "Robin gives me magic" is not proof of Jason being the happy, chill Robin. This is him giving Bruce grey hairs in real time. This is him thinking that he's nearly invincible. To me, this would've been the perfect point to start shifting him into his post-crisis self. I think Jason's too complicated to label him as just reckless but also? I would not say it's wrong to. He is occasionally reckless and he does act without thinking sometimes. And just to clarify, this isn't criticism. I love pre-crisis Jason. He's my little guy. That's why I hate it when he's just boiled down to 'the happy Robin' (and the fact that it's a stupid label for any of the Robins, please let go of that), because he's been stressing Bruce out since day one. Like, this is the kid who said "if you don't make me Robin I'm doing to run away to the circus," and then did. And post-crisis he's very explicitly written as violent and reckless. He's always been a menace, don't take that away from him!!

#i don't think i made a single point in this whole post and i am okay with that #i'm not tagging this bc there's a lot i've left out and i don't want people debating me on a ramble

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dekariosclan · 1 year ago

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So I was watching some videos of Gale’s epilogue discussions with a friendship/non-romanced Tav, and…oh my god, Gale…

[Sorcerer] You confine yourself to the School of Illusion? I’d have thought you could teach the entire curriculum…

Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact.

Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn’t teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose.

————————

Blackstaff: Well Gale, we’d be honored to take you on as a professor. What subject would you like to teach?

Gale:

ALL OF THEM

#Wasn’t there just a post about Gale using his simulacra as a substitute teacher? That is officially canon now #How is it I keep finding out new things about this man that make me love him even more #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #epilogue #spoilers

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sysig · 11 months ago

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#Doodles #SCII #Damned #ZEX #Crackship #Teisel #Meme #I am on a roll with these lol #I knew adding Teisel to my list was only a matter of time #I am a weakwilled individual with one fatal flaw #Anyway (lol)#ZEX really has his work cut out for him with Teisel haha - it's very fortunate he's so determined and enjoys a challenge 'cause otherwise!#Teisel is hard to pin down - I mean Other Than That lol - he's an interesting guy :0 #Rough around the edges and a family man ♪ And if I get to draw long hair and big muscles then all the better hehe #And he has a cute nose! He has the bridge of the nose thing that I like so much!! Yes!!#As for the rest of him - hm! I've only had passing thoughts up to this point and getting into his head is...Something lol #It's well done to be certain it definitely Makes Me Feel it's just hard to ascribe a name to that Feeling just yet #Needs a bit more time to tumble smooth I suppose lol #One thing I know I like because it makes me sad - lol - is ZEX projecting some of his feelings about DAX onto Teisel - unexpected!#It's extremely interesting how despite his deep abiding love and fascination with Otherness he's gotten increasingly homesick #Finding things charming about humans that remind him of VUX! You can tell he's a bit desperate for the familiar :'0 #So isolated from even himself ah 💔 Hang in there ZEX!#At least he has some fun distractions hehe ♪ New things to learn and consider! Teisel keeps throwing him curveballs!#Both of them circling each other like ''? Isn't it your turn?'' lol #They both come off as aggressive in their own way and then swing-and-a-miss lol #And then there's how Teisel frames him as far as age goes - or really how everyone does pffft #It is So funny to me every time anyone refer to ZEX as ''old'' now that his age has been more or less established - at least pointed at #The fact that he might not even be in his human-equivalent 50s what is this who this lol he's not old! And Max /definitely/ isn't haha #He is the slightest itty-bittiest willowiest little twink y'ever did see pfft #I have been waiting to use that meme template for someone for ages I am so glad that I finally got the chance ♪

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tonycries · 3 months ago

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Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot.

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way.

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything.

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door.

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Shit, you should’ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily.

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down-

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you.

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp.

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing.

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet.

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.”

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to.

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside.

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow.

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips.

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it.

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later.

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear.

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter.

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else’s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence.

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was.

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning.

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest.

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder.

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic.

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft.

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please-

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure.

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples.

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard.

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice.

It was agonizing.

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit.

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- “I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes.

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high.

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before.

And it makes him cum

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty.

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin.

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–!

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass.

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside.

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy.

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?”

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over.

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro.

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible.

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke.

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he.

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips.

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already.

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk.

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat.

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick.

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back.

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss.

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans.

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking.

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was.

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up.

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself.

Or…was he?

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls.

Either you could take him or he’ll make space.

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear.

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls.

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed.

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more.

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously.

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now.

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate.

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue-

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose.

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved.

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness.

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself.

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt.

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him.

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows.

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know.

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine.

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible.

It’s like Toji was out of control.

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea.

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy.

He’s so filthy.

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words.

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name.

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well.

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting.

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright.

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed.

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around.

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later.

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock!

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fic #toji #toji fushiguro #tonywrites

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aliosne · 8 months ago

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My mother tells a lot of stories and admittedly my memory is undependable but every now and then she’ll start an anecdote like “as I’m sure you’re tired of me saying” as tho it’s going to be the most boring fact ever conceived and then drop “i met Tommy Douglas multiple times as a child”

#for those who aren’t Canadian or who were asleep during that social studies class #he was the guy who spearheaded our whole free healthcare Thing #after being on the ground for how brutal the 30s were for rural folks in the prairies #and apparently he was just a very kind man #he moved out west towards the end of his life and my grandparents were Politically Active so that’s how they crossed paths #Mum wouldve been just a little kid at the time #but apparently he would talk to her like he took her seriously #like this weird little kid living in poverty could have opinions and ideas that mattered #some people are capital-P Politicians in the sense that they’re slimy all the way to the tips of their toes #and some people are capital-P Politicians in that they’re genuinely interested in the people of their city/province/country #and want to find ways to make those people’s lives better #and you know chaboy is a staunch leftist but I truly believe that transcends ideology #anyway idk. it was like my equivalent of someone dropping that they hung out with an Olympian or whatever #which tbf my mum also does #also i keep telling her: i love hearing stories over and over again #BECAUSE my memory is not great and also bc im adhd and I literally!! don’t mind having the same conversations #also there’s always some new angle to it #it was fascinating years ago to do an assignment where I interviewed her about my (and my siblings’) births #and compare my recollected Tale with one particular telling from her #some of that’s telephone. some of that’s that the way she tells the story when trying to Provide A Factual Account #might be different from when she’s trying to emphasize the magicalness of it #or her frustration with my father #or what a comedy of errors it was #tell me stories fifty times. then tell me them again. i love you.

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luveline · 3 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬

Aaron sets the record straight when an overheard conversation convinces you that you’re not good enough for him. 5k

c: fem, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive theme (non-graphic implied sex scene). hotch is a good husband. requested here

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Honey, this is Clint McMoore. We went to college together.”

You step into Aaron’s side. Clint McMoore is a handsome older man with silvering hair and a beard that looks out of control. His bowtie is loose around his neck, and his cheeks are blotchy with drink, but Clint smiles at you and offers his hand. “How do you do?” he asks.

“Quite well, thank you.” You’ve been practising fancy dinner talk with Aaron’s friend Emily for weeks. She has all the political background you’d needed to see yourself into the culture. “It’s nice to meet one of Aaron’s school friends.”

“While you still can,” Clint says with a chuckle. Something about being in your forties is obscene to these men, as though death waits for fifty candles to snuff them out.

“Clint and I were in the Student Theatre club together, our first year.”

You grin, smile laced with teasing. Each time you’re reminded of Aaron’s young interest in drama, you have to focus very hard on not laughing; the Aaron who has his hand to your shoulder isn’t one you could envision on stage. “Did you perform together?” you ask.

“Saturday Night Fever,” Clint says.

They laugh and reminisce. You find these sorts of events hard to keep up with, but you come when Aaron asks because he so rarely asks you for anything. He hasn’t mentioned knowing that you don’t like coming, But perhaps he hasn’t noticed —it’s not like you to frown, not when you’re with Aaron. The way he treats you, he probably thinks you’re the happiest girl in the world.

There’s a contentedness to be found when he touches you. He spreads a hand against your lower back and you let yourself sink into his side, curled into his embrace and amazed at the giggly laugh he lets out as Clint brings up the ‘King of the River’ tattoo Aaron has hidden beneath his shirt. You’re tempted to kiss his cheek.

Clint asks, “Isn’t that right?” and forces you back into the conversation.

You’re wearing a dress you panicked over for days. It’s black, cut playfully just above your knees with small petal sleeves. Your necklace is of a delicate chain and a not so delicate pearl —a black Tahitian South Sea pearl that glows pink and green in the light. For you, Aaron wrote, his pretty scrawl inky across a square of scalloped card from atop the box. I’m in love with you. Forgive me for not having the courage to tell you in person.

Your Aaron is quiet. Some days he comes home from work and doesn’t manage more than a sentence. Some days he can barely speak at all. But there are nights when he holds you to hold you and talks in murmurs against your ear, and he’s good at making calls when he’s away. Talking or not, smiling or otherwise, Aaron finds a way to let you know he loves you, and that’s all you care about.

“Excuse us,” Aaron says, giving Clint a rare, warm smile, “I’m being flagged by my boss.”

Sure enough, Erin Strauss is beckoning Aaron with a strange pained look.

“Nice to meet you,” you say quickly to Clint. He repeats your goodbye, and you and Aaron swerve around him.

“He was nice,” you murmur.

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

“How come you fell out of touch?”

“Oh, you know how things go, honey, you forget all the people you meet and make room for new ones.” He kisses your cheek. “And besides, he used to gossip like my mother. Why don’t you go find JJ?”

“You’ll be alright?”

“No, maybe not.” He squeezes your elbow quickly. “Go, find some hors d’oeuvres, at least.”

You find neither JJ nor finger foods. The gala you’re attending is being held in a hotel in the richest part of D.C, and the events hall is huge. The ceiling is a fantasy, glass and miles upward, overhead chandeliers dangling lower, dousing the crowds below in a light that’s clean. The rich and powerful gather at the edges of the room, though the performance toward the back of the room is watched by a few tens of couples with flutes of champagne held in gloved hands.

You hadn’t worn gloves. Hadn’t thought about it until you got here. Honestly, you felt grateful enough that JJ texted you to tell you to buy a shawl; if you weren’t wearing one you’re sure you’d feel bare.

What you’re lacking in fancy is made up for by your earnestness, or so you’d like to believe. You aren’t rich nor powerful, but Aaron’s a good man and you his good wife. You work hard, which is more than some of the richest in the room can say. You hold your head high without a second thought.

The hall is confusing. Tables are set but you aren’t sure Aaron said anything about a dinner service. Wait staff carry silver platters and hold bottles of champagne, but each time you approach one they seem to have already headed in another direction. JJ and Derek are both supposed to be here tonight, but you haven’t seen either of them since you arrived. You cast your gaze for Derek’s figure, searching for an easy gait and a strong set of shoulders. You cock your head waiting for a hint of JJ’s practised, polite laughter, but any familiar signs are gone. You can’t even find Aaron anymore, and your shoes are pinching your toes.

Disaster. You should’ve listened to Aaron when he told you to size up, just you doubted his knowledge of ladies shoes considering how rarely he wears them. Stupid man, you think to yourself, lovingly yet ruefully as you sit down at one of the uninhabited tables to the very side of the room. Knows everything. Tonight, you’ll limp back to the car and he won’t bother saying I told you so, he’s too good for it, which is worse. He’ll give you one of his amused smiles. He might offer you a massage.

Ridiculous man, you further to yourself, biting back a cheesy smile as you peel your shoe from a sore foot. If you shove your hand deep enough into the toe you can stretch them out a little.

“Darling.”

You look up. Clint McMoore’s resurfaced just a table away with his back to you. A sweet-faced woman with brown hair sits adjacent to him, her shoulder under Clint’s hand.

“You’ll never guess who I just bumped into,” he says.

Me, you think.

“Aaron Hotchner and his new wife.”

“You didn’t,” the woman says.

“I knew you’d be envious of that,” he laughs. “Charlotte, she’s unbelievable.”

Your stomach does a strange flip. He’ll say something nice, you insist, but you know his tone is a precursor for gossipy nonsense.

“I’ve never seen such a mismatched pair,” he says.

Charlotte rolls her eyes at him. “Well, what were you expecting? They were married after six months of knowing one another. I couldn’t so much as tolerate you until our first anniversary.”

“Hardy-har.”

“What’s wrong with her, then?” Charlotte asks.

“Nothing like that, Charlotte. She seemed perfectly pleasant–”

“But?”

“But, she’s nothing like Aaron’s usual woman.”

“Hm, I said as much when we saw their wedding photos.“ They both laugh. “It’s not like she had much of a chance. First Haley, and then that Beth, the designer, she’s in Milan now–”

“He seems rather besotted, in any case,” Clint says. “Very lady and the tramp.”

“Gentleman and the tramp.”

“Don’t be cruel, Charlotte.”

You know in a way that Charlotte is kidding, but you boil up with anger the moment you recognise what it is they’re implying. Then they laugh, and your anger quickly finds itself taking a crueller shape.

You slip your foot back into your shoe slowly. Your throat feels dry and then warm, like a crux of smouldering coal stuck in your windpipe as you stand, jerkily, hand stiff where it holds your weight on a silken tablecloth.

You blink and stare at the floor. It’s marble. It’s shot through with dark veins like a drop of ichor in water.

What the fuck?

You aren’t sure why you’re leaving the hall until you’re walking down the steps of the hotel and turning along the skirts of a hedge. A low brick wall lies in front of it, just short enough to sit on with your heels. Your coccyx stings with the force of how hard you go down.

Your head races with hurt feelings.

You’re not unaware of your husband’s past loves. It comes as no surprise to you that people regard Haley and Beth highly —Haley was extremely beautiful and veritably brave, intelligent, kind-hearted. Beth was funny, Aaron said, and not too much else. Being a designer in Milan hasn’t been mentioned before, but it’s impressive. They’re both impressive, and– and his usual woman.

You rub the starchy stockings stretched over your knees.

What had they meant by usual woman?

Mismatched?

It hadn’t felt mismatched when Aaron asked you to marry him. It wasn’t six months after knowing one another as Clint’s wife suggested, but it wasn’t much more than that. He proposed to you after eight months together, and you were married two months later, which is incredibly fast to some people but it just hadn't felt fast when he asked. It was exciting —it still is.

“Would you marry me, if I asked you to?” he’d said, some seven months after you’d agreed to be his girlfriend. Your head in his lap, his fingers rubbing at the soft skin of your nape. A sleepy Sunday morning like any other, you suppose that was a proposal in itself, but you hadn’t realised that when you murmured, “Yeah, handsome. I would.”

You thought it was just love. Making innocuous comments about the future is part of falling in love. It’s terrifying to tell someone that you’d like to live life in their lap, but you tell them, and they tell you to go ahead if you’re lucky.

He asked you to get married a few weeks later. “I had to talk to Jack,” he explained, “or I would’ve asked you then and there.“

You’re a wife suddenly, a step-mother, a partner. Aaron would’ve sold the house and bought you a new one if you wanted him to, but you like his life. You’ve always felt like you fit right in.

Angry again, you scrub at your knees with itchy palms and practise how you’re going to tell Aaron about his cruel friend. Gossipy was right, what a lark, and you’re not perfectly pleasant, you’re a delight, you hadn’t said one bad word to Clint and you didn’t deserve to be whipped and twisted into a bad joke between sips of Cristal.

Your eyes burn with the injustice of the thing.

Rawness overtakes. A thudding in your chest turns painful, neck wrought with tightness as you hang your head. Hiding from the cold air. November brings with it a promise of chapped lips the longer you stay there, biting into your thighs as your hands turn stiff with disuse.

She was unbelievable.

“Y/N!” The shout is sharp. You’ve never heard Aaron’s voice at that level or with that level of formidability, carrying from the bottom of the hotel stairs. You twist in shock on the wall and watch in real time as his face fills with relief. “Honey,” he says, calling but not half as scary as he jogs to you, “are you alright?”

“What?”

“You scared me,” he insists, bending down to hold your shoulders. “Nobody’s seen you for the last fifteen minutes, sweetheart, we talked about this. You can’t just disappear, you left your purse on the table, I thought something happened to you.”

You startle at his scolding. “I–”

“You should feel my heart.”

“I didn’t mean to come out here.”

“I wish you would’ve let somebody know,” he says. His frown softens slowly, but the concern around his eyes remains. “What?” he asks.

“Sorry.”

His eyes finally soften. “No, I’m sorry. It’s alright, I just worry when you’re not with me.”

“That’s romantic.”

He holds your cheek, pulling you in, and gives you two gentle kisses. Your lips part instinctively to receive them. “We’ll get our things and go home. It looks as though dinner isn’t happening.” He smiles. “Why were you out here?”

“Scavenging for food.”

That gets a laugh out of him, and another nice kiss. “You tried your best.”

—

Aaron takes you home, and when dinner’s been cleared away, when you’ve showered and he’s undressed, he pulls you toward the bed and kisses you warmly. His eyes track from your face to the tucked corner of your towel, a silent Can I?

You let him take it off. He lays you out, and for a while you’re only his. His wife, his half, his to tease and turn and delight. He says “Beautiful,” against your thigh, says, “Honey, is that okay?” says, “Please, I’ve got it, I have you, just let me have you…”

After, he tells you he loves you, his voice still ever so slightly high in contrast to usual dulcet tones.

“I love you, too,” you say.

His breath comes fast. Your lap is a mess he’d wiped as clean as he could manage, the memory of him bearing down on you yet to fade. He lies on his stomach beside you with his arm over yours, his face turned into you, his nose on your cheek.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. “You feel tense.”

“Mm.”

“No, did I hurt you? You’re rigid.” His hands fret a line down the side of your chest. “You didn’t…”

You hadn’t said anything, because he really hadn’t hurt you. But the thoughts you’re having now are intrusive —am I okay? you think. Do I measure up? He’s never made any indication that you’ve let him down, not in sex or anything else, but you’re unbelievable.

You swallow a lump. “Sorry,” you say, the lingering ebbs of pleasure twisting into tears faster than you can stop it.

“Are you crying?” he asks under his breath.

You suck in a breath as he pushes onto his hands.

“These aren’t good tears,” he says.

He’d know. They’re not.

Aaron reaches over you to turn on the lamp on the nightstand before settling, his hand cupping your waist. It’s too much suddenly, too bare, he’s too much to look at as you squeeze your eyes closed. “Sorry,” you squeeze out.

“What did I do?” he asks, holding you carefully. “Please, sweetheart, what’s hurting? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not you.”

“But something does hurt?”

“No, no, I’m okay.” You cover your face with your hands. When you start to sob, it shakes the entire mattress, Aaron’s hand wobbling where it cups your ribs.

“Please.” His thumb works a soft spot into your skin. “Honey, please, you can’t cry now without telling me what’s wrong.” He tries a laugh, but it falls flat. “Honey. Honey.”

It wasn’t the sex. He never does anything wrong, he’s so gentle even when he isn’t, and if he did you’d only have to tell him, but the rush of being touched by him so nicely, fuck, the way he’d been looking at you, the way he took your face into his hand as he moved —you’re not trying to be a crier, but he makes you feel like you’re everything and you’re just not.

He looks sick.

“It wasn’t you, it was at the gala,” you manage.

For a long while after, you can’t get a word out. You shiver and sob as Aaron scoops you into his chest, his nose in your shoulder waiting for you to calm down. He rubs your waist, fingers parted and waving slowly as he shushes you. Not to make you stop, though. He’s reassuring.

“What happened at the gala?” he asks quietly.

“It’s so stupid.”

“No, it’s alright. Can you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You wrap your arms around his head. It really is stupid, you feel smaller than an ant under the shadow of a giant heel. Aaron doesn’t waver when you struggle to answer, feeling around behind you for a pillow and helping you against it. He kisses your forehead. “Let me get you something to wear.”

You catch his wrist. “It wasn’t you, wasn’t–” You lift your chin.

He kisses you. “Okay,” he says simply. “Let’s get dressed.”

He dresses quickly, bringing you underwear and one of your sleep shirts, a loose fit. You shuffle into them and watch him patiently as he cleans the small mess of the evening away. You’re sniffling softly when he returns to you, sitting with his back to your thighs.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry if I read things wrong. I never would’ve initiated anything if I knew you were feeling like this.”

You laugh weakly, worriedly, looking at him through your lashes. “It made me feel better,” you admit.

“If this is better, you must’ve been feeling awful.”

You relax as he puts his hand on your thigh.

“In the time I left you to talk to Strauss, something upset you. JJ and Morgan didn’t see you. So someone in the gala said something or did something that made you leave. If you tell me who it was, I can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“You’re trying to bargain with me,” you mumble.

“I’m just telling you what can be done. I can take care of things.”

“It’s nothing… nothing so severe. You’ll wonder why I–” You give an unexpected sob. “Made all this fuss.”

“I don’t think I’ll wonder,” he says.

You laugh through tears. These ones are slow, your eyes already itchy from crying.

“Please tell me.” He tries teasing instead of sternness, lowering his face to yours. “Or I’ll cry too.”

“Aaron.”

“I will. You think I can’t, but seeing you crying like this, it’s more than enough ammunition.”

You let out a breath, admitting defeat. “Your friend, Clint? I overheard him with his wife. He didn’t have very nice things to say about me.”

“What could he possibly have to say?” Aaron asks with a frown.

You pull the sheets up your legs. “He said I’m… unbelievable, and I don’t think he meant it kindly. Said that I’m not your type, and that I… I had no chance of measuring up, because of who you’ve been with before. They were laughing about our wedding photos.” Your throat feels pressed into by a hot poker. “They said we were the gentleman and the tramp.”

His eyes squint. He looks disgusted, and for an uncomfortable moment you feel like it might be directed at you, but then he scoffs. “What a crock of shit.”

“Aaron!” you laugh.

“What could Clint McMoore possibly know about marriage? This is his fourth wife. And to imply that you’re any sort of calibre below the women I’ve dated before isn’t just misogynistic nonsense, it’s not true. You are the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, and what’s that supposed to mean, gentlemen and the tramp?” He gives you such an earnest glare of confusion that you can’t for a second doubt what it is he’s saying. “I’m sorry, honey, I think he’s allowed himself a few too many nightcaps over the years. Perhaps he’s suffered a stroke.”

“Aaron, don’t say that,” you chide, secretly very pleased.

“Our wedding photos,” he says, his hand drifting further down your leg to rest just shy of somewhere more intimate, “are beautiful. You look beautiful. Clint would’ve writhed in jealousy in the pews if he’d been invited, because he would’ve seen it for himself.”

“I just sat there while they laughed at me,” you mumble.

“What were you supposed to do?” His hand travels out, to your hip, and then he holds you by the waist with both of his hands. They have a way of making you feel encapsulated, big and strong and careful on the bump of your hips.

“I don’t know.”

“Nothing,” he says, meeting your eyes with his usual tender-hearted compassion. “You weren’t supposed to do or say anything.” Aaron appears younger than he is for a second, his eyebrows raised, eyes big and brown as they track over your lips. “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he was like that. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“I guess I’m just worried he’s right.”

“He’s not right. You are everything to me.” Again, he puts weight on the word, roughly said, like it takes a lot from him to say it. “I’m lucky to have been with women who were beautiful, and intelligent, but if there’s a question of you measuring up, there’s no competition. I’ve never been this in love.”

You take a shaky breath. “Never?” you ask.

He holds your gaze. “I knew it when we met. That's why I couldn’t wait to ask you to marry me.”

“You said you weren’t getting any younger.”

“Well, I’m not, but not everything’s about my age, you know,” he says, giving your waist a playful squeeze.

”You said it.”

“I did. That felt easier to say than, if I don’t marry you soon I might implode,” —he shuffles forward, encroaching on your legs and pressing his lips to your cheek— “would’ve just,” —he kisses your cheek, before turning your head— “wasted all that time waiting for someone else’s idea of the right time,” —and he kisses the other cheek, his nose skirting up your face— “wishing I was your husband when I could just,” —he smiles into your eyebrow as his hand slips under your shirt, holding your bare back— “ask.”

“I’m glad you asked me.”

You’d cried then, too, but it was less to do with a rush of adrenaline that knocked you out of balance and more to do with how lovingly he’d taken your hand as he asked. You knew from that moment on that someone was going to take care of you for the rest of your life. He’s doing it right now.

“I love you,” you say, forcing your arms over his shoulders.

He pulls you in so much that you lift from the mattress.

“I love you. Are you sure it wasn’t me that upset you? I have to check.”

“No. What you did to me wasn’t particularly upsetting.”

He laughs. “Are you sure? You can look a little teary–”

You shush him quickly.

He tips your head to the side to kiss your ear. “Maybe next time, you can tell me about whatever upset you beforehand.”

“And you can make me feel even better.”

His laugh is nearly inaudible, but his lips are by the side of your head. You hear it, the warmth of his breath kissing the shell of your ear.

—

Aaron likes to see you in your sweatpants. You look nice in everything, especially your dresses for the evening events he often drags you to, but he likes it when you wear sweatpants because it opens a window. You’ve purchased the wrong size, too big and too long, but you’ve tied them at the waist and you make do. You’re wearing the big shirt he helped you into the night before, sitting on the couch with your ferried breakfast.

The night before has been washed away, no sign of tears or upset. You have a clean, bright face, one he’d quite like to kiss, or hold, or have pressed to his neck, but none of this is unusual. Your eyes look sore, if he really looks. He’ll make you a compress after breakfast.

Dropped off by Jess an hour ago, Jack sits beside you picking at the breakfast tray. You’re sharing a plate. You don’t ever mind.

“Are you eating that one?” you ask.

Jack immediately nudges half of a chocolate chip pancake your way. “Was the gala fun?”

“Uh, sure. Saw your dad’s friends. But they had a weird thing with the caterers and we had to get dinner on the way home.”

“You could’ve made dad cook.”

“I guess, but we were tired. What did you have for dinner?”

“Jess made spicy chicken. It was amazing.” Jack squints at you. “Your eyes are puffy, Y/N. Are you sick?”

“I think I might be a little. Not enough to make you sick too, don’t worry.”

Aaron piles the last of the pancakes onto a plate and carries them to you in the living room. “Here, you two.”

“Did you eat?” you ask.

He loves you, bending over to kiss your forehead right in the middle. “Yes.”

“How come they didn’t have dinner at the gala, dad? I thought that was the whole point,” Jack says.

He sits down next to Jack on the couch. You cut a big square of pancake and grin at him, seemingly pleased with your breakfast and Jack’s sense of humour.

“It was a disaster, that’s all. No food, barely any wine, and terrible, awful company.”

“I thought Miss Jareau went?”

“She did. But besides her and a handful of others, it was a party for sad old people.”

“And you didn’t have fun?” Jack asks.

You laugh so hard tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Aaron cups Jack’s shoulder, surprised when his son doesn’t duck away from the touch. The older he gets the less affection he requires, so it’s nice for Aaron to hug him sideways and be allowed, better that you finish your choking laugh with a hug of your own. “Jack, thank you for that. I think you cured whatever illness I had,” you say.

“Hey,” Aaron says.

You run your hand up his neck. Your wedding ring catches against his jaw.

“It was worth going, though, to see your step-mom in her nice dress,” Aaron says, peeling away from Jack so he has room to breathe.

Jack turns to you, and his smile is audible, “Do you have any pictures?”

“I didn’t take any, sorry.”

“Just think of her now but in a dress, and that’s how beautiful she looked,” Aaron says.

“Dad, don’t be gross,” Jack says, cutting into the pancakes with his fork.

“It’s not gross, it’s just a fact.” Jack drops pancake down his front. Warm chocolate chips stain his t-shirt. “Missed your mouth, bud. I’ll get a rag.”

He’s up as quickly as he sat down, running his fingers along your arm and to the palm of your hand, touching you until he can’t. He heads back into the kitchen. His phone is beeping on the table, screen flashing with each new text.

Penelope: boss, I think the thing you asked for is illegal

Penelope: also, I assume you were kidding?

Penelope: so while making it that every link on McMoore’s computer freezes the desktop would’ve been very very funny, I didn’t do that

Aaron had been kidding, emphatically, because illegal activities aren’t his style. It was a sarcastic suggestion, and yet he’s disappointed nonetheless.

Penelope: I just signed him up for a bunch of recovering narcissists forums and an email subscription for self help, and maybe also a free online class about manners and etiquette

Penelope: And I ordered that big canvas for you. It was the one of you guys cutting the cake, right?

Aaron texts her back quickly: Thank you, Penelope. I couldn’t work out the dimensions online.

Penelope: You’re welcome! I live to serve :D

The canvas will look good in the entryway, Aaron believes. Somewhere you can see it, and remember exactly what it is he thinks of you; his eyes glowing with love where he’d been staring at your face, his hand guided yours atop the knife as he traced your features, and you cut that first, fat slice of cake.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

thanks so much for reading! please think about commenting, liking or reblogging if you enjoyed I love knowing what you think!❤️

also small note: this fic is in no way meant to diminish haley im a haley supporter usually (these days at least!) and I just didn’t mention her for brevity’s sake

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

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