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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

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all we ever do is talk | s.r.

in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: i don't remember. hold on. oral (f and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breeding but not like the primordial kinky type just like, having sex to get pregnant, drinking wine, this is like circa s11, not proofread i'm just a girl, david rossi being rich for the plot, i hate hate hate the word pussy but here we are, softdom!spencer. spencer reid certified gift giver! word count: 4.17k a/n: a fic based on a del water gap song? who's surprised? no one! anyways i blacked out toward the end of writing this one no clue what happens here also sorry about the breeding thing i really don't know where that came from

The robe you wore was luxurious, and the cumulative cost of every item in your hotel room likely cost more than you made in a year. Needless to say, you were starting to feel out of place in the room, your hair and makeup done to perfection as you waited for your husband to arrive.

Reaching into your pocket, you slip your phone out and check for notifications. JJ was your babysitter for the night, and even though she had insisted that everything would be fine, you had never actually spent a full night away from Eleanor. You had no idea how Spencer did it time and time again for cases.

You: Everything good? JJ: Shouldn’t you be with Spencer right now? You: He’s on his way. You: Everything good?

She responds with a picture of Nell, your sweet toddler, who was seemingly too focused on the bowl of mac n cheese in front of her to even look at the camera. You type out a reply to JJ before forwarding the photo to Spencer.

JJ assured you that Eleanor would be in good care with her and Will, and it’s not that you have any doubts, it’s that she’s your baby and this is your first time being away from her.

The door to the hotel room clicks, and you set your phone on the comforter, watching as Spencer walks into the room before returning the key card to his wallet. “Hey,” you greet from the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

“Hey, honey,” he says, striding over to you before pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “You smell nice.”

You nod in the direction of the bathroom, “I got here early and took a bath.” Slowly, you take a better look at him, “You look good, I like that suit on you.”

He holds his arms out and looks down at himself, “I heard through the grapevine that you have a fantastic dress for tonight, so I figured I needed to pull out all of the stops.” Years ago, Rossi had gotten all of the BAU men custom designer suits, that must be the one your husband had chosen to wear tonight. It was fitting, seeing as Rossi was probably fronting most of the bill for your night.

“I’ve never heard Penelope referred to as a grapevine before,” you respond in jest, getting up from the bed before you make your way to the bathroom. “She helped pick the dress,” you inform him, shedding your robe before stepping into the dress. It was a short, black velvet number that clung to the contours of your body in a way that you hadn’t thought was possible. Instead of straps, two dainty chains went over your shoulders, leaving excess dangling over your back.

Spencer clears his throat, “So, how did the drop-off go?” He missed the big goodbye, which was probably for the best.

You sigh, “Nell was great. I was a mess.” You had only been given a few days to prepare for being away from her.

Carefully pulling the chains over your shoulders, you look at yourself in the mirror before slipping your heels on and stepping out of the bathroom. Spencer was standing in front of the windows, watching the sunset over the horizon, “For what it’s worth, I had no issue with the original plan for tonight.”

Initially, you had planned to celebrate Spencer’s birthday at home with Eleanor, and there was meant to be a party with the rest of the BAU tomorrow evening. Somehow, the team had gotten the idea that the two of you needed an evening out, so they chipped in to give you just that—some members more than others.

“I’m always alright with spending quality time with my girls, but—” his voice cuts off as he turns to look at you, “Never mind.”

You chuckle, “What?” Looking down at yourself, you smooth out the front of the dress with your palms.

His eyes wander as he unabashedly checks you out, “I’m finding with every passing moment that this might be my preferred plan for the evening.” He watches attentively as you go back to sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing a twisted strap of your heel while Spencer stands directly in front of you.

“When was the last time we went out on a date?” You ask, strapping your heel around your ankle.

He hums, fake thinking about your question even though he knows the exact date, “However old Nell is, add approximately ten months,” he answers.

You look up at him, your face warming in surprise, “Has it really been that long?”

Spencer nods mournfully, “Almost three and a half years,” he sits down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh and swiping at the soft skin with his thumb.

Holding your hands up to your face, you glance at Spencer with wide eyes, “Oh, Spence. When did we get boring?”

“We aren’t boring,” he insists, “We have a two-year-old. We work.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Other people do those things, and they’re not boring.”

He matches your look, “We aren’t boring,” he repeats. “Let’s make a deal,” Spencer offers, “Tonight, you and I won’t be boring.

“Right, so we’ll have a glass of wine at dinner tonight and then return to being boring tomorrow?” You say glumly, watching as he shifts on the mattress, adjusting his weight distribution.

“No,” he whispers, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips before sliding off the mattress, leaving him on his knees in front of you.

Blinking absently at him, your heart jumps at the sight of him in front of you, “You know we have dinner reservations, right?”

He gives you a slightly incredulous look, “You know it’s an open reservation, right? We have it until midnight.”

Your head bobs in acknowledgment, silently permitting him to part your knees, and you watch him come to the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties, “I didn’t want any lines to show under the dress,” you explain. There was also a part of you that hoped your evening would go in this direction.

Placing his hands on your hips, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, rolling your dress up to your waist, leaving you bare in front of him, “You’re perfect,” he breathes, “I don’t tell you that enough.” His fingers carefully prod at your core, a ghosting of pressure as he sweeps his index finger over your folds, an array of goosebumps forming over your skin.

Your breath hitches when he grips one of your thighs, placing it over his shoulder in the way he’s done numerous times before, but it always seems to take your breath away. “You tell me plenty,” you say, the sensation of his breath on your wet heat affecting you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.

“That’s not nearly enough,” he scolds himself, craning his head forward to press a kiss to your clit, chuckling when you jump as a result.

Releasing a breathy laugh, you look down at Spencer, your heart racing as you await his next move, “Then tell me again,” you whisper.

Spencer hums in response, slipping his pointer finger inside of you as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

You let out a soft moan as his finger slowly starts moving out, taking it slowly as you lean back on your hands, careful not to mess your hair up too badly, “Spence,” you whine at the pressure.

“I know,” he tells you, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Closing your eyes, you nod quickly as he slips a second finger into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips as your body stretches around his fingers, “It’s been too long,” you tell him, lifting one hand to your mouth and biting down on your knuckle to muffle your sounds—a habit you’d picked up since having a baby.

He hums, peering up at you through hooded eyes, “This is a honeymoon suite, angel. It’s engineered to keep sound in.”

Your hand drops obediently, falling back to the mattress as you ignore the implications of the BAU reserving the honeymoon suite for you and focusing on your husband, who was bending his neck down to suck your clit. His lips encircle the sensitive nub as you let out a low whimper, knowing what’s about to come making you apprehensively excited.

Steadily, Spencer works at you, thrusting his fingers while suckling at your clit, periodically using his tongue to apply pressure, and reveling in your high-pitched moans as he drives you closer and closer to what you’re sure will be your first of many orgasms of the night.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, moving one hand to the top of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.

He shifts on his knees slightly, coming up for air as he adjusts the angle of his fingers inside of your cunt, going back down on you as his fingers find a new pace. They curl inside of you, targeting the spongy button that makes your abdomen tighten and your thighs tremble.

Overwhelmed, you repeat his name like a prayer while you pull at his hair, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, helplessly staring at the ceiling while Spencer keeps his motions going, his fingers relentlessly thrusting into you while he sucks at your clit, encouraging your orgasm.

Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you, your legs shaking as your husband remains buried between your legs, working you through your orgasm, “So perfect,” he pants, gently massaging your pussy as he withdraws his fingers, pressing soft, tender kisses to the insides of your thighs. “We don’t even have to go to dinner,” he says, looking at you hungrily.

You smile down at him, “We should go, Dave called in a favor to get us this reservation.”

Spencer straightens up and nods in agreement, holding his hand up to your mouth, “Open,” he says, looking satisfied when you poke your head forward, putting your lips around his two fingers and tasting yourself on them.

Sucking your own slick from his fingers, you focus on his eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, watching the dilation of his pupils because you know exactly what effect you’re having on him. He slips his fingers from your mouth before dropping a kiss on your lips, the entire exchange reminiscent of the time before you had Eleanor. You weren’t complaining.

Checking his watch, Spencer stands up straight in front of you, helping you stand, he holds onto your waist while you find your balance, “How are you feeling?”

You peer up at him through your mascara-coated eyelashes, “Most decidedly not boring,” you answer, following him into the bathroom so the two of you can clean up.

“C’mere,” Spencer beckons, looking at you from across the table. “You’re too far away,” he explains, the table at the restaurant keeping the two of you apart when you’ve already established that you want to be close tonight.

Taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it on the table, you grab your glass of wine and make your way to your husband. In the private room that had been reserved for you, “Here I am,” you present yourself to him, the privacy glass that surrounded you concealing the way his arm snaked around your waist, guiding you to his lap.

He smiles up at you, “That’s better,” he says, your legs latticed over his own.

Looking over your shoulder at the table, you hum an acknowledgment, “This table is almost comically large for two people.” You imagine it’s intended to be fancy, a long, glamorous table for a glamorous restaurant. You lean your head against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and appreciating your closeness, “Happy birthday, my love.”

“It’s not my birthday yet,” he murmurs, tipping his head back and kissing you softly, the taste of the wine that had been chosen for you was faint on his lips.

A soft giggle bubbles in your throat, “Then I’ll have to stay up until midnight so that I get to be the first one to tell you.”

Humming, Spencer settles a hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “The real challenge there is staying up until midnight.”

“I’m sure we can think of something to keep us up,” you grin cheekily, swinging your legs. “So, before you’re officially older,” you begin, “What do you want to do with your next year of life?”

“Finish the bathroom remodel,” he answers almost immediately, referring to your main floor bathroom that had been in disarray for months. The countertop that you had chosen was still on backorder.

You raise your eyebrows, “What do you want to do that will help us on our pursuit to become less boring?”

Spencer studies your expression, taking his time before answering, “I’d like to at least discuss having another baby,” he responds.

Admittedly, it had been on your mind recently. With Kate leaving the BAU to spend time with her baby and JJ announcing she and Will were expecting, considering having a second baby wasn’t out of the realm of imagination. “You want another baby?” Your question is soft, you look at him, studying the brown eyes that he had passed down to Eleanor.

He nods, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bare thigh. “I know that you’ll bear most of the responsibility if we have another baby. I’ll still be around as much as work will allow, but there’s only so much room for variables in the BAU. I wouldn’t want you to feel alone in it, but I— I’d like for Nell to have a sibling.”

“Okay,” you breathe, not needing much convincing to come to a conclusion. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting this conversation tonight, but it wasn’t a conversation you’d ever had before. Eleanor was about as much of a surprise as a baby could be.

Spencer looks surprised at your reply, “What?”

Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you shrug, “Let’s have another baby. This time next year Nell will be three, so, now almost feels like a perfect time.”

“It takes most couples months to conceive when they’re trying,” Spencer tells you, “Only about thirty percent conceive in the first three months.”

You raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “How long does it take couples who have a luxury hotel room to themselves for the night?” Your loaded question easily slides off your tongue as you lift your hand to his chest, thumbing the silk fabric of his tie while you wait for his answer.

He led the way to the hotel room, luckily the hotel and restaurant were connected; you would’ve hated for a cab driver to see you dazedly staring at your husband with the promise of what comes next.

Pulling his keycard from his wallet, Spencer pushes the door open, dragging you in behind him before pressing you up against the wall. You shove at the lapels of his jacket, trying to get it off of him.

Haphazardly, you drop pieces on the floor, Spencer’s jacket, your heels, his tie, everything falling away as the two of you stumble to the bed. You yelp when you fall back onto the bed, Spencer catches himself above you and a fit of giggles erupts from your mouth. A sort of light, airy feeling goes through your head while you’re beneath him, the freeing feeling of knowing you’re about to have sex and you don’t have to worry about your toddler knocking on your door was overwhelming.

You kiss him while fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the white fabric from where it was tucked before discarding that as well. “Wait,” you say breathlessly.

Spencer sits up, panting as he looks down at you, “What is it?” He asks, eyes searching for something wrong.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I bought lingerie for tonight,” you tell him, eyes flickering over to your overnight bag. The blue, lacy set was calling your name.

Hovering back over you, Spencer bows his head and presses a soft, unhurried kiss to your lips, “Show me later?”

Nodding, you watch him as he pulls his undershirt off, another bundle of fabric lost to the ground. Gently, you push at him, making it so his back is on the mattress as you place one knee on either side of his waist.

His hands tug at the hem of your dress, ruching the fabric around your waist as you slowly grind your hips over his. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses, already tightly wound after your earlier activities.

Understanding, you start to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, continuing to go lower until you’re unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly, placing your hand over his already hard cock and palming him on top of his briefs, “You’re so hard,” you moan, your mind thinking ahead to when he’ll inevitably fuck you.

In the interim, you tug his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, leaving his length standing at attention for only a moment before you duck your head, licking a long stripe up the veiny underside of his cock. Spencer’s hips buck up from the mattress in response, and you take him in your mouth, using your hand to touch what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Pressing your tongue flat against the head, you moan with him in your mouth when he grabs a fistful of your hair. You were no longer worried about your appearance, only about driving him as crazy as possible.

“Angel,” he says, his voice strained, “I can’t— I need to be in you.”

You lift your head, moving back up to him and straddling his hips again, placing your bare pussy on top of his hard cock. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you raise your eyebrows at Spencer, “Are you ready?”

He nods, mouth falling open when you lift yourself up and position his length at your entrance, “Oh, wow,” he breathes, gently rubbing at your clit as you ease yourself onto him, your walls throbbing around him. His hand settles on your hip as you take a moment to adjust.

Pulling at your dress, you tug it over your head, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room, “Ah,” you sigh, rolling your hips slightly to try and help your body adjust.

“Absolutely no lingerie necessary,” he says, his eyes studying your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. “I’m so thankful for you, my girl,” he murmurs with lust-hooded eyes.

You hum in response, bending at the hips to put your lips on his, a whimper escaping your lips when his hips buck up from the mattress again, “Fuck, call me that again.”

“My girl,” he echoes, thrusting up into you again. “I’m not going to last very long,” he admits, groaning as you start to lift yourself up and down on his cock.

Small whines come from your lips with every movement, you shake your head, “That’s okay, we can…” your voice trails off, “I don’t think I will either.” The admission comes as a bit of a surprise to yourself, you hadn’t realized you had gotten so worked up.

Snaking his hand between your bodies, Spencer focuses his attention on getting you to your second orgasm as your movements grow unsteady, “You’re doing so well,” Spencer encourages you, knowing you aren’t usually on top.

“Shit, Spence,” you gasp, your resolve failing as your torso drops forward, giving him the freedom to continue lifting his hips up into you, “Oh,” your cunt clenches down around him, “I’m cumming,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest as you cry out. His thrusts start to overstimulate you as he chases his own orgasm, and eventually his movements falter.

You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you as his hot cum fills you, a tired sigh as his rigid body relaxes back into the mattress, “Oh, my girl,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back as you catch your breath on top of him, “Why don’t you stay up here for a little bit?”

Nodding, you look up at him, a pink flush splattered across his face as you watch him, “I love you,” you breathe, glancing at the clock, “Happy birthday.”

Spencer spares a glance at the clock, three minutes past midnight, “I love you too, angel. Thank you.”

You sigh, lifting yourself on shaky arms and grabbing a box from his bedside table, “This is for you.”

He releases a breathy laugh, obviously amused at the idea of opening a birthday gift while he’s still buried inside of you, “I got you something too,” he admits, sweeping a strand of hair from your face.

Tilting your head to the side, you frown, “It’s not my birthday.”

Shaking his head, Spencer agrees with you, “No, but I find I can’t resist giving you gifts.”

You inhale sharply when he twists to open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a rectangular box and resting it next to him so he can start to open the gift from you.

“Oh, honey,” he says, opening the watch box. His old one had a damaged mechanism and needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t something he was likely to spend the money on for himself. Naturally, you did it for him.

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s engraved,” you explain. Watching him take the watch out of the box and look at the back, the dates that you had carved in being significant markers in your relationship. Your wedding anniversary. The date Eleanor was born. There was plenty of space to add more dates too, should the time come.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, placing the watch back in the box to keep it safe, “Thank you,” he says, shifting under you as he reaches for the box.

Rolling your eyes, you accept the box anyways, “Now, why would you get me a gift for your birthday,” you tut, undoing the ribbon on the box before opening it. “Oh,” you breathe, “Oh, Spence,” you say, tears pricking your eyes.

Inside of the box was a necklace, and strung on the dainty chain was a teardrop-shaped sapphire. “It’s Eleanor’s birthstone,” he explains, “I saw it last time Penelope dragged me to the mall with her, and I thought it was perfect for you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, moving to fasten it around your neck, the only other thing adoring your body being your wedding ring. You grin at your husband as you duck down to press a kiss to his lips, half-conscious of the way he’s kicking his pants off until he’s flipped you onto your back.

He hums as you moan, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful,” he muses, burying his face in your neck and placing soft kisses along the column of your throat.

Opening your legs more, you invite him to come closer into you, “I would have agreed to have another baby a long time ago had I known I’d be treated so well,” you tease him gently, gasping as his lips attach to your breast, littering kisses all over you.

“I always treat you well,” he insists, taking a tentative thrust into you before taking you into his arms.

You whimper softly at the pressure on your pussy, “Spence,” you sigh, your sensitive cunt clenching around his cock. “Oh, god yes,” you mutter as he begins to find a pace, pressing his full length into you.

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “I know baby,” he says, sticking to his rhythm and pushing your legs open wider, “I’ve got you.”

A curse falls from your lips as you screw your eyes shut, tilting your head back and gasping at the sensation, “I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too,” he says, equally out of breath with you as he fucks into you with abandon, chasing a new high as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum in you,” he warns, snapping his hips to yours.

A high-pitched moan comes from you as he paints your insides with his cum, the sensation of him filling you leading you to your third orgasm of the night as your walls pulse around him.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, waiting for someone to catch their breath as your eyes go wide. “Are you alright?” Spencer’s the first to speak, carefully pulling out of you and chuckling lightly when you whine at the empty feeling.

Nodding, you turn your head to the side, “Yeah, are you?”

He smiles, “I think this might be the least boring birthday I’ve ever had.”

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hysteria-things · 3 months ago

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smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️【ＫＩＮＫＴＯＢＥＲ】🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months ago

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Dirty Laundry

Summary: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) vaginal fingering, paise kink, a breeding kink so dangerous that you may get pregnant just from reading, creampie, cum play, a loud washer and dryer, no actual laundry accomplished, domestic girl dad Javi, you'll always be famous

A/N: idk who unlocked my cell while I was ovulating, but once again I have escaped, and once again, we're makin' babies. I think I've convinced myself I don't know how to write anything else, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If wanting to give Javier Peña a football team worth of kids is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the goddamn key 🤠

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

For as much as you loved your daughters, it was safe to say that for the past two weeks, your pair of rambunctious toddlers had been doing very little for your sex life.

Your 4 year old Lucy had been going through a phase of having nightmares every night, and somehow ending up in you and Javi’s bed no matter what you tried. That, combined with trying to potty train your 2 year old, Elliot, (who was nowhere close to being the breeze her older sister it was when it came to the matter), on top of preschool, work, and life in general, you and Javi had barely gotten so much as a kiss in, let alone some quality time together.

It had been your hope to start trying for baby number three, but after 2 months of negative pregnancy tests and another month of complete chaos, despite your best intentions, “trying” had very much taken a backseat in your mental to-do list.

But this morning when you woke up, it was almost as if a wave of calm had washed over your house to reset the state of disarray you had been in the past few weeks- Both girls had slept through the night in their own beds, had woken up in good spirits, Elliot asked to use the bathroom multiple times, and both had been happy to play in the living room together quietly as you worked on catching up on some much needed laundry.

So calm, in fact, that Javi was almost worried when he came downstairs for work to hear near silence, apart from the occasional giggles from the girls as they arranged their Fisher Price Little People in their Play Barn and the washer running in the background.

“Hi Daddy!” Lucy cooed, toddling over to her dad, wrapping her arms around his waist as Elliot quickly followed behind, perching on his leg like a koala.

“Buenos días, niñas. (Good morning, girls).” Javi grinned, squatting down to kiss the wild, sleepy curls of his daughters’ heads, still slightly confused by the tranquil state of the house. “Where’s Momma?”

“Washing stinky socks.” Lucy giggled, pinching her nose and scrunching her face, pretending to have smelled something bad.

“Yeah, stinky socks.” Elliot echoed, sticking out her tongue.

“Oh yeah? Is it because my pollitas (little chickens) have stinky, smelly feet?” Javi teased, wrapping his arms around the girls, pulling them close to his chest as he tickled their sides, the three erupting in laughter and giggles.

“What’s goin’ on out here, huh?” You grinned, stepping out of the laundry room with your arms playfully crossed against your chest to see your husband and daughters in a tickle tackle pile on the living room floor.

“Daddy said we have stinky feet! Daddy’s got stinky feet, not me and Elliot.” Lucy protested.

“I think you and Daddy both have stinky feet, Lucy Lu, and your dirty laundry proves it.” You smiled, watching Javi give one last big kiss to each of the girls before pushing up off the floor with a grunt, making his way over to you. “Good morning, Mr. Stinky Feet.”

“Hey, c’mon now. I can’t have you all gangin’ up on me.” Javi pouted through his smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips softly met yours, his words sweet and low as they danced against your skin. “Good morning, Hermosa.”

His kiss lingered just long enough to send butterflies swirling through your stomach, biting down on your lip to try and keep your heart beating any faster than it already was. You stood there for another moment, eyes locking with his as the grip around your waist tightened just subtly enough to hint his mind was in the same place as yours.

You were finding a way to finally have sex this morning.

You could feel the arousal already beginning to pool in your core, swallowing hard as Javi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at you while his hand slid further down your waist towards your ass, trying to devise a plan for the two of you to be alone long enough to do what you had both been so desperately craving these past few weeks.

As you turned your head back over your shoulder in search of ideas, a devilish grin spread across your face, looking back to Javi to gently tug on the maroon tie dangling from his neck, twisting the end through your fingers.

“I think I really need help with the laundry before you leave for work.” You mewled, leaning in to press another kiss to his plush lips, followed by another on his cheek and neck, Javi letting a soft groan rumble in his chest.

“Oh Fuck, baby. What do we do about the girls?” He asked quietly, trying his best to keep his composure as the dark brown of his eyes grew hungrier with want.

“Snack and a movie? There’s already a baby monitor out in the living room, and if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, it should buy us enough time.” You nodded in reassurance of your own idea, already growing antsy with anticipation.

“God, I love you.” Javi smirked, giving you one more kiss and a firm squeeze of your ass before breaking away towards the kitchen so you could execute your plan.

“Hey girls?” you called, making your way towards the living room where they were back to playing, “Daddy needs to help Mommy with some, um- laundry. So if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, can you show us what big girls you are and let you watch the movie all by yourselves?” You asked, doing your best to play up your request.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot squealed, clapping and stomping her feet. “Wittle Mermaid!”

“Okay, go get your blankets and sit on the couch and Daddy’s gonna bring you a snack to watch the movie with.”

“Yay! Movie time, movie time!” Lucy shrieked as the girls ran to go grab their things, plopping themselves on to the respective corners of the couch. While you searched for the VHS in the entertainment center, Javi returned from the kitchen with two much bigger than needed bowls of Teddy Grahams, turning on the TV as you pushed the tape into the receiver and pressed play.

With the bright blue Disney logo appearing across the screen and your daughters both happily snuggled with their snacks on the sofa, you and Javi gave each other the silent nod of approval, slowly backing away towards the laundry room while the girls sat in content and entranced silence.

After one last peek, you carefully closed and locked the laundry room door behind you, quickly followed by turning on both the washing machine and the dryer, trying to do yourself any favors you could by drowning out any suspicious sounds.

“Good?” Javi asked once more for reassurance, feeling his slacks get tighter and tighter around his crotch by the second as he waited for your response.

Without a single word, your lips were crashing into his, a messy dance of tongues and teeth ensuing between you as your bodies bumped against the laundry room counter, limbs tangled together in a frantic race to remove clothes.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed this.” Javi groaned, helping you slide your top over your head and unclip your bra as he nipped at your neck, pushing your back against the dryer and caging your body under him.

“I know, baby, me t-too.” You whimpered, reaching out to undo Javi’s belt buckle, shoving his pants down to his thighs, followed by his boxers, freeing his cock as it slapped against the dark hairs on the happy trail of his stomach. “Missed having your big dick inside me.”

“Fuck.” Javi swore under his breath as you reached out to stroke him, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip to rub the precum up and down his shaft as he shoved your the waistband of your pants and underwear down your hips just far enough to let them fall to the floor around your ankles.

As much as you both desperately wanted to take your time, worshiping every inch of each other’s bodies until you had nothing left to give, you knew time was not on your side. After a few more strokes, you pulled back, letting Javi snake his hand against your body to slide between your legs, the slightest graze of his fingertips already making you shutter with need.

At this point, even after the few weeks it had been without Javi inside you, you were wet enough that you could have taken him without any warm up, your core dripping with your arousal to the point it was smearing the inside of your thighs with its shiny coating. But even with your cunt soaking wet and time working against you, Javi couldn’t help but drag his fingers through your folds, curling to push up into your tight hole and prod against your g-spot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet. This all for me, Momma? Missed me fillin’ you up with my cock? Missed me fucking you full of my cum, huh baby?” Javi growled, his words shooting straight to your cunt, making you clamp down tighter around his fingers and your clit throb with intensity.

It had been a minute since baby making had been at the forefront of your mind, but his question set off something animalistic in the both of you, knowing that right now could give you a chance at baby number three that you had been wishing for.

“Y-yes, Javi, fuck- want you to fill me up, baby. Want you to fill me up until you fuck a baby into me.”

It was then that Javi couldn’t have been more thankful that you had turned on the washer and dryer to try and drown out your noise, because the groan he let escape from his parted lips was much louder than he intended.

But then again, there were few things in this world that turned him on more than you begging him to knock you up, so what did he expect?

Scooping his arms under your thighs, Javi hoisted you on top of the dryer, your ass hitting the cold, vibrating metal with a thud as your lips collided again with desperate ferocity, muffled moans escaping from your mouths.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to knock you up again, Momma? Give you another baby?” Javi smirked, reaching to line his cock up with your entrance, swiping his tip through your folds to collect your slick and coat it along his length before he pushed inside you, sinking deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours.

Words couldn’t describe how much you had missed the sweet stretch and sting of Javi’s fullness, each inch of him feeling better than the last, sobbing out as his tip kissed your cervix, all inhibitions of self-composure completely tossed out the window. Still sunk deep in your cunt, Javi’s hand shot over your mouth, stifling your cries in his palm.

“Shhhhhh, I know, Osita. You gotta keep quiet though, baby.”

You nodded frantically in compliance, Javi’s hand dropping to grip around your waist as you tried to catch your breath. “M-move, Javi, please.” Your whimpering request borderlining pathetic with how badly you needed him.

“You promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?”

“Mhmmmm. I promise, baby, please.”

With that, Javi’s hips began to snap, dragging his cock in and out of you at a dangerous pace, coating the walls with the sounds of the wet sounds of your cunt and slapping skin, muffled by the washer and dryer.

“Oh my God, Javi. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, locking your legs behind the small of Javi’s back, keeping him as close to you as possible as he fucked in and out of you. You draped your arms around his shoulders, fingers burying themselves in the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

The closeness had the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, adding to the tension beginning to build at the base of your spine, both of you knowing it wouldn’t take long to get where you needed to go after weeks without being able to have each other like this.

Javi could feel it too, his balls beginning to tense with each pump, using every ounce of self control to keep from preemptively spilling into you, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, holding on to you like his life depended on it.

“Jesus, Fuck- Fuck, I missed this tight little pussy so much. Gonna cum so deep inside you. So deep it’s gotta fucking take. God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I swear I’ll give you as many babies as you want, Hermosa.” Javi babbled, biting down on his lip as he pounded into you, reaching one of his hands down to circle at your wet, puffy clit, aching to be relieved from all the built up tension.

At this point, you were so drunk on pleasure that you could barely remember your own name, feeling your orgasm begin to build through every inch of your body in a way that had you seeing stars, digging your fingernails into Javi’s shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out his name, forcing yourself to whisper incoherent sweet nothings against his skin.

“P-please, Javi. F-fill me up. Oh shit- Fuck, baby, I’m so close.”

Javi’s thrusts became sloppier and more erratic, fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to coax your orgasm out of you before he followed suit, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow in intense concentration.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me. Soak my fucking cock before I fuck you full of me and knock you up. C’mon, Momma.”

Suddenly, your orgasm crashed through you, lighting your body up like a goddamn Christmas tree, every inch of your body radiating with bliss as you clamped down around Javi’s cock, biting down on his shoulder as you came to try and stifle your cries.

Javi was only moments behind you, letting out a low grunt with the final sutter of his hips as he came, coating your walls with his warm spend, fucking it into with every ounce he had left until he had milked himself dry.

Your bodies collapsed into each other, rising and falling in sync with heavy breaths like you had just finished the last mile of a marathon and collapsed at the finish line, damp and sticky with your sweat.

As much as Javi didn’t want to pull out, he could feel his cock beginning to soften and the mixture of your spend leaking from your hole. Refusing to let a drop go to waste, he pulled out of you, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his length, dragging his tip up through your folds and collecting the cum that had been dripping out. Taking the wet mess he had gathered with his cock, he pushed himself back into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you, a devilish smirk spreading across his face at the absolutely obscene sound coming from between your legs.

“Promise me,” Javi gulped between pants, finally pulling out of you again, “Promise we never go this long without having sex again. Holy Fuck.”

“Promise.” You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, coming down from your blissed out high. “God, that was the longest two weeks ever. Don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.”

“Because we’ve been sleep deprived and exhausted, and our little monstros (monsters) have been giving us a run for our money.” Javi chuckled, reaching behind you to grab a towel from the cabinet above the dryer, quickly rinsing it in the sink before wiping you up and helping you find all of your clothes.

“Are we crazy for wanting another one?” You asked, looking down at your stomach, thinking about the ramifications of what you had just done.

“Maybe. But you drive me so fucking crazy, we may end up with 10 before you know it.”

“Javi! Dear lord, we are not having 10 kids, you psycho.” You laughed, playfully slapping your husband on the shoulder.

“Stop being so hot and I’ll stop knockin’ you up.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing damn well you’d have a whole army of his kids if he really wanted.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Alright, you need to get your ass to work and I need to feed the gremlins before I drop Lucy off at preschool. Let’s go, cowboy.” You grinned, playfully smacking Javi on the ass, giving him a quick kiss as you made your way towards the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osita. I gotta remember to call my dad on the way into work.”

“Call your dad? Why?”

“To see if Abuelo can take the girls this weekend so you and I can catch up on a lot of laundry.”

Taglist:

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@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

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@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

@purpleprincess75

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kitkatscabinet · 1 year ago

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Don't feed him he'll come back (2)

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes

Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in.

It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that.

Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy.

He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler.

Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-

He doesn’t have a crush.

Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”

Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination.

It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise.

It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble.

You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him.

His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds.

You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not.

(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)

For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile.

For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you.

It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore.

You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin.

If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep.

He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest.

You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication.

He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it.

You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out.

He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept.

This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.

Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #kat’s writing #ghost x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley #cod ghost

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wttcsms · 1 year ago

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i wanna brag about it (i wanna tie the knot) ; choso.

pairing choso x f!reader word count 2.6k synopsis overworked, stressed, and in need of relief, choso comes home to the sight of you looking all pretty and sweet. it's been a long time coming, and tonight is the night where choso finally gives in to his deepest desire: fucking a baby into you. content contains babysitter!au (babysitter!reader), ceo!choso, half-brothers!choso & yuuji, toddler!yuuji, implied age gap, breeding kink, obsessive + possessive!choso, housewife kink, misogynistic ideals, wet n messy, size kink, belly bulge, bro is literally so in love with you and dreams abt starting a family with you

Choso could use a drink right about now.

He’s rummaging through his fridge, more than happy to grab one of the many bottles in the back (he doesn’t want Yuuji accidentally grabbing one by accident — not that it would happen, thanks to your supervision), but he startles away from the fridge when a voice fills the silence of the kitchen.

“Late night?” You tease, giving him that sweet smile of yours that has the stresses from today lifting from his body, easing the weight on his otherwise tense shoulders.

Fuck.

Proof that today was a major shitshow is evident in the fact that Choso has forgotten all about you. Staring at your body clad in nothing more than one of those skimpy cropped-cami-and-boyshorts matching sets you always favor, he finds it hard to believe that he could ever forget about you. The refrigerator light bathes you, envelopes you, casts a warm glow on your soft skin and makes it look like you’re an angel radiating some bright aura. A subtle glance at your entire body allows him a glimpse of two, tiny peaks poking through the thin material of your top. You like keeping the house cold. He swallows hard, finding the willpower to focus on your face.

Not like staring at your face is enough to stop his cock from twitching in his work trousers. In fact, he probably gets even harder looking at you, especially when he can tell you’ve probably just finished your very sacred and meticulous nighttime skincare routine, your face glowing. Seeing you all clean and fresh, savoring the domesticity of you washing your face in the same bathroom he brushes his teeth in, salivating over the way you look standing in his kitchen (it could be yours, too, if you would let him give you everything he wants to) wearing nothing but your pajamas — it all makes his hindbrain want to take over. He’s spent the last fourteen hours stuffed in a boardroom or his office, and your simple existence is enough to soothe his soul and send him spiraling, all at the same time.

Choso could really, really use a drink right about now.

“Sorry, I meant to call to tell you—”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile at him goodnaturedly, like you’re not still in college with much better things to do on a Friday night than wait for him to come home.

He should be thankful that you’re so sweet to him, but just the idea that you did have plans tonight makes a hot coil of jealousy tighten in his stomach.

Choso knows that he shouldn’t be feeling this way; he shouldn’t even notice you as much as he does. It starts out with the little things, first, like making sure his assistant gets your favorite snacks restocked during his usual weekly grocery delivery. He asks you about your schoolwork, and then finds himself filing away people he knows in your major’s industry. It’s good to have connections, he tells you, giving you the number to a good business acquaintance of his who’s looking for an intern in the near future. And of course, he’s hyper aware of the fact that you are a very beautiful girl. Unfairly so, with the curve of your lips and the slope of your nose; every time he sees you, he plays a game with himself. Tries to notice something new about you, a beauty mark, a new haircut. If he had the time, he’d probably try to get an exact count of your eyelashes.

And now, he’s noticing too much of you. The way the fabric of your tiny matching set seems to accentuate every aspect of your body. How he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion. The way you’re staring at him, so innocently, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts that run rampant in his mind every time you have him cornered like this.

Some nights, it’s almost too much to bear.

It’s been a tough day, though. Week. Month. Endless meetings, negotiations that never result in any firm solutions, just more addendums to contracts. He hasn’t seen much of anything besides his office and the boardroom; what’s the point of having an office with a skyline view if he’s too busy staring at spreadsheets and emails to even enjoy it?

Tonight, Choso realizes, is the night where he snaps.

He says your name in such a low register, you almost don’t pick up on it. You’re in the middle of telling him a cute story about what Yuuji did during recess with his pre-k class, but you pause.

Maybe it’s all in your head, but it feels like something in the air has shifted. The way your tummy’s butterflies seem to be in overdrive is only proof of this.

You’re used to the perpetual tension between you and Choso. Filthy rich, successful, always in a nice, tailored suit — looking purely on the outside, who wouldn’t want to get fucked by him? The more time you spend with him, the more time you fill the role of mother over just babysitter for little Yuuji, which gives way to deeper observation of Choso. He works incredibly long hours, but still has time to stay updated on all of Yuuji’s comings and goings, accomplishments and awards. He doesn’t have to; it’s not like he’s obligated. After all, Yuuji is his half-brother, a byproduct of his father’s mistress. He didn’t have to take him in, love him with his entire being, but he does, and this makes you fall for him only more.

Then, there’s the fact of how he makes you feel. Every time his hands will brush gently against yours, innocently and so quickly, you swear you’re being electrified. The way he says your name, the way he tells you anything, in that low voice of his is enough to get you squeezing your thighs together. But most of all, it’s the way he looks at you. At first, you thought it was because of your crush, but the longer you work for him, the more you realize that Choso will occasionally stare at you when he thinks you won’t notice.

But how could you not? How could you not detect the feel of his dark eyes scanning your figure, taking in your features? How could you not detect the way his eyes will darken over in lust when he watches you lick sweet cream off your fingers from an explosive can of whipped cream? How could you not catch the barest trace of a smile as he watches you interact with Yuuji at a park, willing to get your hands dirty to appease the toddler while Choso watches over the two of you from his seat on the bench?

How could you not fall deeper and deeper into his spell when the threads of lust continue to spool, tightening over your body, practically choking you with desire.

You don’t even realize how big Choso is until he’s standing so close to you, towering over you. So much bigger than you to the point where if you look straight ahead, all you can see is the rise and fall of his chest through his white button down (the one you ironed for him this morning).

His hands curl into fists, like he’s restraining himself. “Tell me now,” he breathes out, words coming out tight, like speaking to you civilly is proving to be a strenuous task for him. “Tell me that I shouldn’t fuck you tonight. That I can’t.”

Is he joking, or are you dreaming? You’re hyper aware of your breathing now, of the way you reflexively lick your lips, of the way your nipples are pressed taut against the thin, cotton fabric of your cami. You’re also way too aware of him, with the lustful expression in his eyes that give way to something more, as if this request of his means something more. Most men his age and in his powerful position have a wife or a girlfriend by now. As long as you’ve known him, Choso hasn’t been with anybody.

The stress, the agitation, that annoying, persistent feeling of constantly being pent up — all of it has been building up inside of him. Whoever is going to be on the receiving end of it will be lucky if they’re able to walk the morning after.

“But you can.” You say softly, almost scared that this is some elaborate trick, a means to see if his brother’s babysitter is to be trusted. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

There’s something animalistic in the way he takes you. When he kisses you, it’s hungry. Open-mouthed. Sloppy. It would be invasive if you weren’t so eager to let him, to allow his tongue to hit the roof of your mouth, to swap saliva in the messiest manner possible.

But there’s something gentle there, too. The way his hands cup your face, or travel to rest on your waist. He’s sweet, taking his time to help you slip out of your pajamas, and sweeter still — he lets out an appreciative hum as he takes in the sight of you bare, naked in the kitchen. Fuck a drink, Choso thinks as he takes in your nude body. You’re the only stress relief he needs.

He whispers the nastiest things to you as he gets you to sit on the kitchen island. He asks you to please spread your legs so he can see that pretty pussy of yours, and when you comply, he takes in a sharp breath before running a single, cold finger against your wet folds. He makes a crude, appreciative comment, asking you are you really this wet, baby? All of this because of me? For me?

You can’t answer him, of course. Talking is hard when he’s using two fingers to fuck you open, get you ready to take his cock. He’s knuckles deep, and when he curls his fingers right there, the only thing you’re capable of saying is a squeal of his name. Your juices are pooling into a puddle on the counter, the same counter where you served him breakfast so many hours ago.

He loves watching you. Choso could watch you every second for the rest of his life and still never get his fill of you. He only catches you during particularly chaste moments, moments where you’re humming in the kitchen or playing with Yuuji. He loves those scenes; it feeds the archaic, masculine ego inside of him that tells him he needs to make life easier for you. That you shouldn’t have to worry about school or work, about money or other frivolous things he has an abundance of. He wants to take care of you.

Seeing the way you lose control of yourself from the work of his own hand has him getting unbearably hard in his work slacks. He loves watching you, and he knows he’s going to love watching you get all depraved and drunk on his cock.

When Choso first tries to ease just the tip in, you have to curl your fingers over the edge of the counter, trying to steel yourself. With how wet and willing you are, it should be an easy enough task, but it’s made difficult by the fact that he’s just too thick.

Tip red and angry, leaking with pre, wide — just the sight of Choso’s cock is enough to get you even wetter, more pliant for him, but even the first stretch still has you hissing.

“S’okay, baby.” He groans, one hand on your waist, trying to steady you, keep you still so he can keep on pushing himself deeper. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You certainly don’t feel like you’re doing much of anything. It’s hard, when you can’t stop your walls from clamping down on his cock, making it harder for him to move or even think. When he fully enters you, your mind is already too dizzy with pleasure to think straight. You think he says something, but you’re not sure what, and you try to focus on his words, you really do, but then he starts thrusting, and you think it’s powerful enough to tilt the axis of the earth.

Oh, so this is what sex is supposed to feel like. He redefines everything you thought you knew about it. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, the way the slickness and heat of your pussy seems to keep motivating him to go harder, the way if you look down, you can spot a tiny bulge every time he hits as deep as he can go — all of this combined marks the height of pleasure for you.

“You’re so perfect.” He grunts out, relishing in the way you tighten up at his words. Your eyes are a bit glazed, almost like you’re struggling to focus on what’s in front of you. He doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, there’s pride settling inside his gut as he realizes that he’s the one fucking all the sense out of you. “Let’s do this every night, baby. Do you like the sound of that? Of being my stress relief?”

He knows that you’re too far gone, too deep in the haze of pleasure, to process his words, to answer him.

“I wanna fuck you forever, baby. Make you my pretty, little wife and have you waitin’ at home for me. How does that sound?”

He assumes when your pussy tightens up that that’s a yes.

His hand finds your own, and he interlinks your fingers together. He might be fucking you all messy on the kitchen counter, but he still holds an overwhelming amount of affection for you. Of course he would want to hold your hand.

He traces your ring finger, feels the familiar sensation of his release building up. So close, he thinks to himself. He’s so close to getting everything he wants.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum right. In. Your. Fucking. Pussy.” Each word is emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, and this — him saying that — is what your sex-addled mind registers. You’re vaguely aware that this could be a bad idea, but you’re too addicted to chasing after your high that you don’t put a stop to it. “Gonna give you a baby.”

“Please.” You moan out, the word coming out ragged and strained. Speaking is difficult, so so difficult. He’s happy to hear your beautiful voice, nonetheless.

“Atta girl. I knew you would understand.”

As if confirming to him that the two of you are meant to be, you both cum at the same time. You feel weightless and drowsy, too out of it to even process how sloppy and wet the mess in between your legs is right now. If Choso pulls out, his cum and your juices would make the counter even more slippery.

But Choso doesn’t pull out. His cock stays nestled in your wet heat, and he admires your fucked out form. You look a bit different from the fresh and clean girl who greeted him when he came home, but that’s okay. He loves you for you, every iteration you have to offer. He’ll carry you to the bedroom, where he can fuck you nicely, sweetly. Maybe he’ll try his hardest to not go too hard when he has you in a mating press. And after getting his fill of you, after the stresses of work disappear from his mind completely, then he’ll take you to the bathroom and get you all nice and clean.

He’ll even be a gentleman, showcase what a great husband he’ll be, by letting you sleep in while he cooks the family breakfast.

#choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #one shot #drabble #smut #jjk smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk fanfiction

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tutorialbee · 2 years ago

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Let's Learn Numbers 1 to 10.

#counting #numbers #learn #counting1to10 #tutorialbee #tutorialbee01 #kids #Children #onlinelearning #toddlers #youtubechannel #follow #trending #workbook #worksheets #flashcards #flashcardsforkids

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paleflower · 11 months ago

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The little guy knows how to count to 16! 🤯 Sure he sometimes makes mistakes along the way, but from seven onwards he gets it right like 99% of the time. And why 16? Because we have 16 stairs that we go up in our house and I've recently started counting them each time we go up and told him to count along. But that he would pick it up so quickly shocked me. 😅 I could barely count up to like 22 when I was six years old. 🙈

#motherhood #toddler #toddler mom #learning to count #learning numbers

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tojikai · 1 year ago

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Sundered 6: DREAMS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied noncon, sexual assault

word count: 6.7k

He wished to tell you that he loves you too but that wouldn’t be right.

“Megumi.” Toji warned, raising a finger at the breathless, laughing toddler. “No jumping on the bed. You’ll fall.” He put an apple in his mouth as he watched them. You combed the ends of your hair, leaning on the doorframe. Toji was sitting on the bed, while the two kids were playing beside him, jumping up and down.

“Yui, baby, can I ask you something?” He gently picked the little girl up, glancing at you as he put the bowl of fruit down. He sat her on his lap, “Who's Gumi's Dada?” Yui looked up at him, pointing a finger at his chest. “Alright, very good. How about you? Who’s your Dada?” You know what he’s trying to make her understand.

Yui just developed that habit because oftentimes, Megumi would run and call Toji. And what her playmates do, Yui does too. She would follow him screaming ‘Dada’ as well, but Toji never failed to gently correct her. “Toru!” She raised her short hands, clapping as she looked at you. “That’s nice. So, you call Satoru Dada, okay?” He tapped her cheek.

“Toji no? No Dada?” She shook her head at him, asking. “Yes, just look at your hair.” You butted in, pointing playfully at her as you walked towards them. You can feel Toji’s eyes on you as you sit down in front of them. You’re still not over the conversation you had earlier. But you’re not letting the kids hear about that.

Yui was pulling at her hair, trying to see the color and looking back at Toji’s to check. “See? You and Satoru look the same.” You pinched her cheek “Yui hair white.” Megumi pointed at his playmate, “Yeah, you’re getting good at colors!” You raised your hand, asking for a high five, which he gladly returned with a shy smile.

Toji looked at you as you scooted beside him, before placing a hand on your thigh. He’s ready to apologize, but he doesn’t know if he can let it go. Toji’s mind is still stuck on that day you told him Satoru was still in love with you. And if he’s being honest, it puts him in a really rough spot.

“It’s getting late.” You tapped on your phone, allowing it to light up. “Why are they not tired yet?” You yawned, feeling his thumb rub on your skin. “'cause they ate the cake.” He sighed, stretching his back before staring at you again, “What?” You asked, watching him shake his head. “We got things to talk about.” He nodded.

“I know. Later, we will.” You moved to him, pecking his lip quickly, “We can’t talk about it with the children in here.” Scrolling through your contacts, you pressed Satoru’s number. “Yui, come here, we’ll talk to Dada.” Tapping a quick message that you’ll call, you sat your child in between your thighs.

“Do you want to say sorry to Dada? You were mean to him earlier.” You poked her side, watching her nod before throwing something at her playmate.”’Gumi, sit down first.” Toji told the boy and he followed, but only to continue playing with Yui. Megumi’s a quiet kid but with playmates around, he can get hyper too.

“Wait, what if he’s asleep now?” You asked Yui, “Maybe we can apologize tomorrow when he picks you up, okay?” You kissed her cheek, hearing her whine, “Now Mama. Yui says sorry.” She tried to grab the phone. “Okay, okay. Alright. Wait a second, we’ll try.” You pressed the telephone icon. There were multiple rings but no answer.

“Dada’s asleep.” You pouted at her, “He said he wants to sleep early so he can see you early tomorrow too!” You tickled her side, making her flinch with a smile, followed by fits of giggle that made Toji chuckle. ‘Gumi quickly replaced you, laughing with the little girl as he pokes her tummy.

“Let them play like that, they’ll get tired quicker,” Toji uttered, putting a hand behind his head. “What happened earlier? I thought it was his schedule today.” He asked, referring to the events earlier. “You said that his mom was there.” He added recalling what you were explaining to him before you fought.

“Yeah, and he had to take Yui back here with me. We were supposed to eat Yui’s cake there before he takes me home because that’s what she wants. But of course, the devil ruins things.” You rolled your eyes just thinking about his Mom. You still haven’t told your mother about it, knowing how she gets when it’s about you.

“Does Satoru’s father know that she’s like that?” It’s now your turn to nod, “He’s just tired of her, actually. I know.” His father’s always busy but you’d never forget how he’d always take your infant for a walk to give her some sun.

“Oh, I thought your son wasn’t married yet. Look at this cute baby girl.” An elderly man who once visited said to him, It worried you that your child was born out of wedlock. You used to avoid going out with them to avoid this type of situation but his father didn’t mind.

“They’re not married yet. This one’s a…”mini advanced gift” for us.” He chuckled, lightly bouncing the infant in his arms. “Oh, she's like a little girl version of Satoru.” The elderly cooed when Yui opened her eyes. Whenever Satoru’s mother tries to argue with you and he’s around, he’d also say a sentence or two just to stop her.

“You’re not thinking! Getting a baby’s ear pierced. What kind of a mo—” She rambled on, claiming that I was harming her granddaughter when they visited Satoru’s house. “You’re crying about this more than the child who got her ears pierced.” Satoru’s father cut her off, rubbing his temples as he sat beside her.

Satoru was taking a call outside and his mother just had to take this opportunity to antagonize you. “I’m her grandmother. I got the right to protect her. She’s a newborn!” His mother was hysterical and if it weren’t for Satoru’s father, you would be talking back to her by now. “She’s 5 months old, Aiko! She’s an infant. Stop arguing with the mother.”

You sat far from them, not wanting to scare the baby in your arms. “She’s not capable of—” His mother tried to retort but Satoru’s father was getting fed up “You’re not capable of understanding.” With that, the fight came to an end and after a few minutes, Satoru was walking back to the living room. “What’s going on?” He asked but his mother could only scowl.

After a little while, the kids started to get sleepy. Yui was whining as she rubbed her eyes, and Megumi kept asking for the phone. “You could let him watch something that could help him sleep. Like the—” You were about to suggest but Toji was already picking the child up, answering: “Ah, no. My wife used to cut off his screen time 30 minutes before sleep.”

You remained silent for a minute as you took off Yui’s hair ties. “Let’s go to bed.” You whispered after combing the toddler’s hair. “Come on, so we can talk.” You lifted Yui up before walking to her room with Toji trailing behind you. When Megumi and Toji stay over, he and Yui share a bed. Thankfully, it was big enough for the two of them as Yui rolls around a lot in her sleep.

You were supposed to sleep over at Toji’s house tonight. But because of the fight that you had, you figured that sleeping here would be more comfortable. It was good that he always kept some extra clothes for Megumi in his car.

Now, the two toddlers are peacefully sleeping and you two are starting to feel the tension again.

“You can go first, what is bothering you?” He asked as the two of you walked back to your room. You don’t know why but for some reason, you feel embarrassed that you’re getting jealous of his wife. Not only that but it also makes you feel overreacting. You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes, telling yourself that it was better to say it now than to let it get worse.

“It’s because…you keep talking about your wife.” You let your shoulders slouch as you plopped on the bed, watching his face contort into disbelief. “My wife?” He repeated, he looked at you as if you just told him a dark secret. “Toji, look. When you want to tell or suggest something to me, Can you not… always say that your wife did this and that? I mean… I just get uncomfortable.”

There was a pregnant pause as he straightened up, pacing back and forth as he thought of an answer. You wished he didn’t take that long because now it’s making you feel like it’s hard to decide between the living and the dead. It’s making you feel like you're not even in his top five; like you only come after someone who can't even be here.

It’s making you feel like you’re just the second best. And that’s all you’ll ever know of him too.

“Look, I am simply putting her words out. You know how much they mean to me, you know how much and what she means to me—” He sat down on a chair across the room, explaining as calmly as he can but that hurts and before you know it, you’re already asking him: “Then, what do I mean to you?” Toji looked at you, mouth slightly ajar.

“You’re jealous? Of my dead wife?” He tried to clarify like it’s the most unbelievable thing you said. “It’s not jealousy, I just—” He cut you off by exhaling harshly, rubbing his face. “She’s not here, Y/N. I could only think of her, but you’re here with me. How could you feel jealous about that?” It’s only making you feel bad; like what you’re feeling is trivial.

“It’s because you make me feel that way.” You clenched your fist. This type of pain is making you angry; not because it hurts too much but because it’s pissing you off that after everything during these months, he could still make you feel like this. “I know that if you're given a chance to choose you wouldn't want me in her place, but I wish you didn't make me feel like that too much.”

“Do you really just expect me to never reminisce about her? She’s my first wife. I lost her so suddenly I didn’t even have time to process it.” Everything that he’s saying is wrong to you and you’re not afraid to express. You cannot live with a man who probably wishes that you were someone else. “Then, why did you even date me?” Your words were sharp, like how you’re looking at him.

“And why did you even date me when you still can’t get over your ex?” He retorted, “You won't let me call you a petname because he used to call you that. How is that any different?” Now, he’s just as aggravated as you and you hated it. You hated arguing with him even if it was just about simple things and now that it’s not something simple, it frustrates you even more.

“Satoru isn’t dead, Toji. I wished that you called me something else because it’s triggering, and I don’t get to control that.” You tried to keep your voice down as your hands clenched. “I do it because I’m protecting my peace, not because I compare the things you do.” You panted, looking at him with nothing but exasperation in your eyes.

“Toji, I’m starting to feel like a placeholder.” You put your hands on your knees, hanging your head low. “I’m starting to feel like a stand-in for your dead wife. And you would keep telling me what she used to do so I could perfect it.” Biting your lip as you shook your head, “I wish you’d just understand me. I really want to try with you…”

He leaned back on the chair, keeping his eyes on you. “Look, Y/N. I’m sorry.” He spoke after a couple of seconds, “I can’t promise to not think about her because that person; that woman is the mother of my son.”

“And I want to try with you too, you know that. Maybe this will all get better with time. But I can’t find my peace knowing that he’s just there, loving you.” The room felt so big now that there was a space between you and Toji. A space that is bigger than the actual size of your room.

“Then, what should I do?” You asked him, genuinely clueless as to what he wanted to happen. “I don’t know, Y/N.” He shook his head, sighing. “What should you do when someone keeps trying to get to you?” There was an obvious answer to that.

“You know I can’t just do that. He’s the father of my daughter, Toji. You know where I’m coming from—” You looked at him, your eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t. He literally told you he regrets you and your daughter, isn’t that enough for you to take Yui away?” You shook your head, eyes tearing up as you realized what he just said.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. Babe—” He walked towards you, grasping the weight of his words. “Don’t touch me.” You shut your eyes, not wanting to shed a tear anymore. “Just…just don’t talk to me right now, Toji.” Your hands gestured for him to stay back as you shook your head.

“I can’t believe you’d use my pain against me.” You whispered to him as you stood up, walking out of the room.

—------------------------------------------------

“What about…Yui?” Your eyes glimmered as you looked at him, “Ah…I like that.” Satoru smiled up at you, before leaning down. “Yui? Do you like that—” Before he could even finish his sentence, you stared at each other with wide eyes. “She just kicked…” He laughed, placing his hand on your bump.

“Yui. How’s my little girl?” He asked again, earning another kick after a couple of seconds. “That’s so cute, Satoru.” You gushed, happy tears pooling in your eyes. “She likes that name.” He sighed, kissing your stomach before standing up. The sinking sun made your eyes gleam.

“She’ll be here soon.” He kissed your forehead, putting his hand around your waist as he closed his eyes feeling the wind blow on his face. At that moment, he felt like he’s got everything already. At first, you talked about how everything you’ll do is just for the child.

But as months went by, seeing your face first thing in the morning and last thing in the night has already become Satoru’s favorite thing.

“What are you thinking about?” You looked up at him as you stood there on his balcony, holding his hands on your stomach. “You. So, kiss me.” He leaned down as you giggled, pecking his lips. “More.” He intertwined your fingers with his, brushing his nose on your outer ear until you gave him another one.

You wouldn’t have met if Satoru didn’t enter the bar you were working at, and that thought made Satoru grateful that he did because this is something he wouldn't want to miss.

“Y/N, stay with me.” He whispered, feeling you lean your body on him. “I love you...Y/N”

“Kiss me…” And so Naomi did, putting her lips on his as she tried to prepare him. She closed her eyes as he heard him hum, speaking other words unknown but she knew that it was to urge her to continue. “More…” The word made her exhale, relaxing more and more as he coaxed her, probably half asleep.

Maybe he’s just too sleepy and drunk. She thought, putting her hands on his chest to support herself. She raised her lower half, aligning herself with him. She traced her fingers on his arms before lacing them with his. She felt his warmth as she took a deep breath, thinking one last time before throwing it all away, frustrated.

She was ready to put it in, take all of him in her, and just let it all happen. You were a stranger to Satoru when he chose to keep a life with you. But I’m his girlfriend; his salvation and love. Satoru wouldn’t deny me and his child to me. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to find the final push to proceed.

But it only took one word from him for her to come back down. Her temperature dropped low as she felt her blood run cold.

“...Y/N.” Naomi halted her movements, eyes wide in shock. Did he just call your name in his sleep? “...Stay with me.” His brows furrowed in his sleep, and Naomi could only look as his image got blurry because of her tears. What? “I love you…Y/N.” She clasped her hand over her chest, trying to move away.

He’s dreaming about you? All this time? Tears fell from her face as she tried not to make another movement or sound. And he said he loves you? Her initial suspicions were right. Naomi’s throat constricted as she held in her sob. “No…” She whispered, finding it hard to breathe. Her ears were starting to ring as she struggled to get up.

*Ring. Ring. Ring.*

Naomi’s breath was knocked out of her lungs as she noticed Satoru’s phone ringing and vibrating beside his pillow. He can’t wake up. Not now… She thought as she forced her weak knees to work and grab the phone without startling him but it was impossible as it was right beside his head, partially covered by the pillow.

Before she could even get it, Satoru stirred awake, blinking his eyes up at her. “Naomi?” His eyes scanned her before realizing the situation she put the both of them in. “What the fuck?” His eyes went wide, trying to get up. Naomi was panicking, stepping off of him as he looked at her with confusion and disgust.

“S-Satoru, it isn’t like—” She tried to hold his hand, face wet with tears as he tried to get away from her, “What the fuck are you trying to do?” Pulling his pants before standing up. She picked up her silk robe, trying to give herself some decency as what she did started to sink into her. “Were you—fuck!” Satoru’s frustration was obvious, making Naomi flinch as she wept.

“Were trying to sleep with me while I was out?” His eyes were filled with emotions; dismay, disgust, fear, and disbelief. The last thing Satoru remembered was staring at his phone before he dozed off. Then, he remembered dreaming about you. Satoru rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. He knows that he shouldn’t have taken shot after shot even if he’s at home.

Satoru’s a lightweight and Naomi knows that. Could it be… “You made me drink on purpose.” His voice lowered as he pointed a finger at her. “No…I didn’t. I—” She tried to utter, voice coming out as a squeak, “I am not asking a question. I know that you did.” Satoru gritted through his teeth.

“Do you know what can happen to you?” Satoru walked towards her, glowering. “I could put you behind bars for this, Naomi.” Satoru was fuming, he didn't even know where the alcohol in his body went. He just knows that he’s dizzy. Raising his hand only to put it back down again, he doesn’t want to risk anything.

“What were you trying to do?” He spoke in a low voice, reaching for his phone on the bed. Your name was written in bold letters when he looked at his notifications. So, it was you who was calling. Once again saving him from whatever type of hell he got himself into. “N-nothing happened.” She shook her head, trying to convince him with her eyes.

“I’m not asking you if something happened or not, I’m asking about what you were trying to do.” His jaw and teeth hurt by how hard he is biting down. She sat there with tears cascading down her cheek while Satoru waited for her. “Please, don’t make me do this—”

He can't believe that a face as angelic and tame as this could do something so evil; so vile.

“Don’t make you do what? You feel embarrassed now but you weren’t embarrassed earlier when you were assaulting me!” He snapped, watching her eyes widen and her fear flashes on her face. “It’s not that, Satoru. I wasn’t trying to…” She walked to him, grabbing his hand with her cold ones. Satoru snatched his hand away, taking a step back.

His glares sent daggers to her heart. Never once has he been like this to her. “I…We were having problems. I thought that a…a child—” Naomi stopped talking, crying even more as Satoru closed his eyes and shook his head. He could tell that he was holding back on her.

“We were having problems so you thought having a child would fix it.” He finished for her, biting his lip. Her tendencies scared Satoru. He remembered how he decided not to tell her about his feelings for you earlier when he had every chance to because he felt bad. And now that one decision almost ruined him. “I’m gonna tell you now. Nothing will fix this.”

Naomi could feel her heart crack and break at his words. “Is it because of her?” She scowled, thinking about his mother’s words. “Is it because she got a boyfriend? Satoru, she's only trying to make you jealous—” She tried to explain, desperate to make him listen to her. “I don’t fucking care. I don’t care if she doesn’t take me back, I don’t care if she's only doing that to spite me.” Stopping, he took a step towards her.

“Naomi, I don’t give a fuck if she hurts me back because I fucking deserve it.” He panted, “For all the shit I put her through when I decided to be with you instead of fixing things as I promised her.” His mouth quivers as memories flash across his vision.

The day he let go, the day he started over for himself, the day he chose only for himself while you were out there waiting for a change.

“You know… I don’t regret meeting you. Because you helped me. You were a great friend to me. But I regret choosing you over Y/N. We should’ve never been something like this.” He sighed deeply, listening to her sniffles and apologies. “I should’ve just told you earlier that I’m still in love with her.” With that sentence, all her questions got answered. Naomi's world came apart.

“You’re getting checked tomorrow.” He stood up straight, grabbing his phone as he headed for the door. “Satoru, nothing happened, there’s no need to—” She tried to go after him, stopping when he paused by the door. “I don’t trust you.” He spoke before stepping out, leaving Naomi in the room with nothing but her broken heart, shame, and humiliation.

Satoru sat on the couch, running his hands through his hair. He stared blankly at the dark corner of his room, thinking about all the wrong paths he took. So much has happened and it’s not even a whole day yet. First, his mother ruined his child’s family day, and now— Cutting off his own thoughts, Satoru started to suspect something.

Naomi said she spoke to his mother. Is she, by any chance, involved with the decisions she came up with?

As much as Satoru hated to think about it, with the way his mother was acting, he couldn't help himself from thinking that she told Naomi something that made her do this. Even if she didn’t directly command her to do that, she could still be involved. Tears pooled in his eyes as he thought of it all. He did his everything to try and understand his mom, to be a good son to her.

“Naomi,” Storming back to the room, she found Naomi speaking on her phone. Terror appeared as she looked at him, hurriedly ending the call. Trudging towards her, she tried to put her phone away but with their size, it was impossible. “Who are you talking to?” He was far too angry to listen to her pleas and calls of his name.

She desperately tried to get it back but she was too late. “So, I was right? You talked to my mom about this.” He laughed bitterly, clenching the phone in his hand. “Satoru, let me explain, please. I won’t lie. We had a chat, we—” Naomi rambled on but Satoru was already pressing the call button, walking out as she chased after him.

“What?! You came up with that plan, deal with it!” Satoru can tell how annoyed she was by how she immediately answered, not even thinking about who it was. Satoru tried to keep Naomi away as she tried to grab the phone, calling her mom. “Did you coach her to violate your own son?” Satoru felt nauseous. He wants to throw up everything in his stomach.

“Satoru? No, honey, I didn’t tell her to—” Her voice cracked, shaking and tears finally escaped Satoru’s eyes. Naomi could only stand there, watching the man she loves break down because of what she did. Because of what they did. She should’ve listened to her conscience when it was telling her to stop.

Her desires brought her nothing but a quick, frail pleasure and a lifetime of agony. They gave her something to regret for the rest of her life.

“I’ll be in contact with Dad. And you won’t ever hear from me again once I settle all of this.” His voice was hoarse, low, and rough. Not giving himself a chance to hear his mother’s cries, Satoru ended the call. Before Naomi could even talk he was already harshly shrugging her touch off of him, “Don’t even try to explain. It’s clear to me now.”

“Satoru, can you just listen for a bit, I didn’t want to do that—'' She choked on her own sobs, “But you did! And I could get you arrested for it.” Satoru threatened, making her shake her head in fear. “You’ll get tested tomorrow.” He pointed a finger at her face, before turning to leave.

Entering his child’s room, Satoru sat on the bed, letting himself crumble and fall apart.

—-------------------------------------------

“Mama, mama!” You woke up to the feeling of someone jumping on the bed beside you. “Eat, Y/N. Let’s eat.” Looking down, you found two children looking at you in their pajamas. “Alright, alright. I’ll be up in a minute, calm down. “ You rubbed your eyes, smiling even as you remembered how the other night went.

After an hour of sitting in the kitchen, Toji came out. You refused to look at his face, but you can feel his cautious movements around you. You subtly wiped your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that you cried. You always know that it’s alright to cry to him, but for some reason, you feel like you’re so far away from him right now.

You felt like he was holding a weapon against you. One shot could be enough to tear you down again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, after a couple of seconds of standing in front of you. You looked down, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t mean to say that.” Toji took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to respond. Sighing, you looked up at him, seeing him looking at you with contrite in his eyes.

“You’re a father too, Toji.” You tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, before letting your hand rest on your nape. “I know, Y/N. I shouldn’t have said that.” Toji admits that he felt like you were being unfair to him. He didn’t realize that he was the one being unfair to Satoru when he’s obviously trying to stay at a distance.

“Please, understand that I’m not asking you to forget your wife. I just don’t like feeling like I’m…like I’m not enough.” You swallowed right after saying it, as if it’s a strong medicine that tasted bad enough to numb your tongue. “I’ve had enough of feeling like that.” It was barely above whisper, Toji didn’t really catch it but he wrapped you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Kissing your forehead, he felt you relax in his arms. Toji hated himself for making you feel like this again. He hated that he let himself project his feelings on you. The jealousy was coming from him and not you. He failed to understand your point because he was blinded by his bitterness over the fact that you and Satoru are finally getting along.

He didn’t even think of the child involved.

“I’m tired. I just want to sleep.” You murmured to his chest, “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” With that, you and Toji went to bed; with his arms around you and your back against his chest. You didn’t want your head against his chest, you can’t bring yourself to look in his eyes.

You were afraid that you’d hear a different name if you listened to the beat of his heart. It would be painful to see a different woman in the reflection in his eyes.

Picking up your phone, you felt the two kids lay beside you. There were texts from Satoru. You initially assumed that it’s probably because of your missed call from the night before but your brows furrowed in confusion when you saw how early he sent them. 4:37 in the morning.

Opening the messages, you heard Toji enter the room. “What are you two doing? I said "no jumping on the bed.”” Your eyes were glued to the screen of your phone, taking in every single word in Satoru’s messages. “Good morning,” You felt a kiss on your forehead, “You okay?” Toji asked, curious as to why you looked worried first thing in the morning.

“Satoru’s got matters, he can’t pick Yui up until later today.” You spoke, opening the next message. I saw your call last night. I couldn’t call back because it was late. I fell asleep early. “It’s probably because of what happened yesterday.” You caught a sigh escape from Toji’s lips. “He’ll be ok. He won’t let you get caught up in this.”

He sat down next to you as he looked at the screen, you didn’t bother hiding it, not wanting to make him feel like you’re hiding something. “Do you want to talk to him?” You looked at him as soon as the words escaped his lips. “It’s okay. He would say that if he needed that.” You replied, looking away after giving him a small smile.

“Well then let’s have breakfast, I cooked something. The kids woke up really early.” He chuckled, pecking your cheek. “I’ll be there.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you as you kissed his ear. “Thank you so much.” You whispered to him, feeling his weight on you.

“Anything for you.” Only Toji knows how much he meant those words.

—-------------------------------------------

“It will be out in two days.” Satoru threw the car keys on the couch, before walking towards the stairs. “You can take all your belongings. If I–“ He trailed but Naomi cut him off, “Satoru, I’m sorry. I was just desperate to–“ He gave her a warning look, making her look down. He’s been nothing but cold to her.

“You’re desperate so you tried to do that to me?” He shook his head, “You know, I’m sorry too. I regret that I didn’t just tell you what was really going on. I should've just broken up with you that day. I thought I could save it if I tried, even just for the sake of the time we were together and what you did for me, but I can’t. This wouldn't have happened, you wouldn't have gotten a chance to do that.” Satoru was getting harsher and harsher with his words.

Filled with mixed emotions, he watched as the woman he trusted cried again. She’s been crying since the night before but he couldn’t find it in himself to comfort her. He doesn’t even want to be under the same roof as her at that moment. When he thinks about what could’ve happened if he didn’t wake up on time, or if you didn’t call, all he feels is dread.

“I will be the first to touch the test results.” Satoru declared as he clenched his jaw, “Satoru…can’t we just wait until—” Naomi tried to grab his arm, looking at him with teary, pleading eyes. She’s shaking, and her fingers are freezing. “Wait until what? ‘Till I can’t go back? ‘Til you achieve what you’re trying to do?! ‘Til you ruin every hope that I have?!” The woman cowers in fear and embarrassment.

“Naomi, are you not scared? Of this mess that you got me in?” He hissed at her face, watching her look down as she sobbed. She’s visibly trembling at this point, “You should be ashamed.” Satoru nodded his head, clenching his fists. “For what you’ve done... you should be ashamed.” He walked out of the room, slamming the door on her as she fell down to her knees, wailing.

Locking the door, Satoru changed quickly, before laying down on the bed. His head’s been killing him since last night; hangover, sleeplessness and stress are continuously tearing through every muscle. He looked at his phone, seeing the hundred missed calls from his mom who probably came earlier, as expected, when they went to the hospital.

Satoru was just about to put his phone down when it started to vibrate. Your contact with a picture of Yui and you flashed on the screen. He didn’t waste any time answering the video call. Seeing his little girl made all the tiredness leave his body. She looked down at the phone, smiling at him.

“Dada! Dada, Hi!” Waving at him, “Hey, baby. I’ll pick you up in a bit, alright? Dada just needs to nap.” He watched her scrunch her brows, seeing your frowning face for a second. “Yui don’t want.” She whined, hearing the word ‘nap.’ Laughing, Satoru saw you peek on the screen, “Not Yui. Dada will nap.”

“Take your time to rest. You look really tired.” You talked, holding a baby plate in your hand. “I just noticed she’s starting to look like you.” He chuckled, sighing as his eyes blinked slowly. You remained silent on the other end of the line, feeding a spoon full to the toddler.

“What were you going to say to Dada?” You talked to Yui, wiping her chin. “Sorry. Yui, uhm, Yui not nice.” The view kept shaking as she struggled to hold the phone in her small hands. “It’s ok, baby. Dada will buy you the cake, as promised.” The way her eyes lit up as she heard the word made Satoru forget about his problems.

After a little bit of talking and watching his daughter eat, you took the phone from her but still kept the camera on her face. “Say bye-bye now, let Dada sleep for a bit.” You spoke, and the kid obediently followed, waving her father goodbye, “Bye-bye. Dada.” She looked up at you, “See you later,” Repeating each word you say, Satoru could only tell her how much he loves her.

He wished to tell you that he loves you too but that wouldn’t be right.

“I’ll call later. “ He talked to you, hearing you hum, “Alright, rest well.” With that, you ended the call, leaving Satoru on the verge of sleep. He prayed to dream of you and maybe even do the things that he wished to do with you. He wished that he could just ask you to hold him before he breaks down again.

He realized that all this time, it’s you, it’s your arms that he needed to put him back together again permanently and not just as some sort of comfort that could so easily break. If he had a choice to turn back time, he’d turn it all the way back to when you, Yui, and he were together; not before he met you.

Because even if his relationship with you began with an obligation, it was still his choice to love you.

—------------------------------------------------------

TWO DAYS LATER

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s alright.” He spoke to the phone, struggling to put his seatbelt on. Satoru’s been anxious, he couldn’t even sleep properly. Today, he’ll be receiving the test results. “I just got back from Toji’s, and he’s got something to do so he couldn’t take me to pick Yui up.” You sighed from the other line.

You were about to take a cab to Satoru’s house but he insisted that he’ll just drop Yui off back to you. “Let’s talk about the car next time, okay? So, you don’t have to commute.” He reminded, hearing you hum. “Yeah, ok. I’ll tell Toji about it too.” With that, you bid farewell, telling him to drive safely before dropping the call.

“Alright, let’s go to Mama.” Satoru looked over at his daughter who was sucking on her binky. She nodded eagerly, wiggling her little legs as she claps her small hands. Satoru didn’t tell you about what happened with Naomi. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to. That night was still clear to him. He closed his eyes, grabbing the steering wheel before starting to drive.

The car ride to your house was filled with little giggles and occasional singing of his little girl. She slowed Satoru down, preventing his mind from overheating from thinking about things as she playfully calls him every now and then. "Dada! Yui hair!" She pulled at the strands, scrunching her nose as she laughed. "Dada hair!" Her fingers pointed at him.

Satoru smiled at her through the mirror, instantly understanding what she was implying. "Ah, yes, we have the same hair." He cooed, making the little girl cover her eyes as she smiled, "You're a smart kid." In no time, the two of them reached your apartment. The kid kept hugging her Dad as they walked up your steps, as if sensing his distress.

"Baby!" You opened the door for them, kissing Yui's cheek. He can see your eyes scan his face, a hint of worry was etched on your features, "Would you like to come in? How did things go?" You were reluctant to ask the question, worried that it might be a bit too private for you to know. But it looked like he needed it when a small, sad smile appeared on his lips.

"Not good," He sighed, "I'll tell you about it some other time." Satoru went inside but only to put down his daughter's bag. "I, uh, have a delivery coming today, so…" Nodding, your mouth formed an 'O' shape, "Alright, you better get back then. Say bye to Dada." You adjusted your daughter on your hip, urging her to give her father a kiss.

"Bye love, I'll see you in a few days." He pecked the kids forehead, patting her hair and smiling at you as he went. His head, his heart and his feet felt heavy as he walked away. It's like the second Satoru left your apartment, his headache was back knowing that whatever's waiting for him at his house could be another obstacle to pass. And the worst; it could be something that he can never run away from.

He arrived only a couple of minutes earlier than the mailman. The envelope felt like a tonne in his hand as he took it, signing quickly before thanking the worker. Satoru stared at it as he walked to his living room, sitting down on the couch when he felt like his knees were about to give up. With cold fingers, he opened it, going directly to the section where he could find his peace.

Eyes widening as he breathed out the air he didn't know was holding in, he slammed the papers on the table as he pulled his phone out and dialed the number he's been hoping to call ever since the incident.

"Dad, I need to talk to you."

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