#he was even directing it and got interrupted

[ssahotchnerr]

how do you think Aaron and reader who are married, react to both being called ‘Agent Hotchner’ and they both answer? That’s so cute, I could just imagine Derek smirking and Rossi having a proud dad moment

the hotchners

AHHH I LOVE THAT cw; bau!reader, established relationship, typical cm case talk, playful banter/fluff 🥰

"The unsub is devolving, they’re getting more reckless," Derek thought aloud, clicking his pen in hand. "He dumped the last victim in a public place, rather than the usual, secluded spot."

"They're losing control." You inputted in agreement, your eyes darting across the conference room table to him.

Aaron leaned down on the table, still standing, but with his palms pressed against the surface. He was next to you, and this stance allowed him to be ever so slightly closer. Your heart warmed by his proximity, as any displays of affection were at a minimum when in the field. You were happy he was just close by. "The next victim will probably be someone they can’t control-"

"Agent Hotchner?" A voice came from behind, hindering the conversation.

"Yes?" Both of you answered swiftly, out of habit, though it was a new habit for you. Your tickled eyes met Aaron's, your nose scrunched up slightly in amusement.

Derek grinned, swiveling back and forth in his chair in observance. Rossi raised his hand to his mouth casually, concealing a chuckle.

The voice in question, one of the local police department's officers, even hesitated himself, as if he didn't know which Hotchner he were to rely the information to.

As soon as you and Aaron got engaged, the discussion of whether or not you'd take his last name was on the table. To avoid confusing situations like these, or to prevent any reputable prejudices. It was rare, but every so often you received grimaces from bystanders, both in the field and in the office back home. Marrying your boss? Either tremendously romantic or something to be frowned upon.

But in the end it was unanimous; you wanted his last name, and as did Aaron. It was even more important to him. A symbol of a bond he couldn’t wait to share with you; an acknowledgment of the life you were about to build together. You and him. The Hotchners.

"Uh- sorry to interrupt. The victim's fiancé is here for their interview. They're waiting in interrogation." He stammered, his gaze switching between the two of you.

"Thank you. We'll send someone in shortly." Aaron replied, politely dismissing the officer. He kept his trained demeanor, but you could hear the laughter underneath his voice.

As his footsteps trailed away, you nudged Aaron, humorously bumping your shoulder into his upper arm.

He kept his gaze on the files laid on the table, his lips spread in a soft smile as he slowly shook his head.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Dave." He didn't even need to look up.

"Hey!" Dave commented, his tone light as he spoke. He held up his hands in surrender, but that didn't diminish from the proud gleam in his eyes; it also happened to be the same one he had adorned on your wedding day. "I didn't say a thing."

"Oh, but it's written all over your face." You quipped also, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Just when I thought the two of you couldn't be any more married." Derek rolled his eyes, playfully as his lips pulled back into a grin. "What's next? Have you mastered the art of the ‘yes honey’ yet, or is that still a work in progress?"

"Please, that was perfected before we got married." Aaron remarked as he relaxed his posture, straightening up. He flashed a smile in your direction, speaking over Morgan's cackle. "Isn't that right, honey?"

[hoshifighting]

Ya’know how they say: “Dino never bows”… what if reader makes him… ?? 😋

“dino never bows” until you make him

WARNINGS: reader and chan are each others booty calls, dom!reader x sub!chan, smut, power play, finger sucking, cock/balls squeezing-punishment?, cock riding, oral (f. receiving), hair pulling, degradation, praising, arms pinning, dirty talk, dry hump, jealousy, reader is called by ''noona'', bowing.

“ya! dino never bows!!!!!”

hoshi’s voice pierced through the restaurant, loud enough to make you pause mid-laugh at jeonghan’s joke. you looked over your shoulder, just in time to see chan stomping back to the table, his jaw tight and his hands shoved into his pockets. behind him, a girl you vaguely recognized from campus was walking the opposite direction, her head held high like she’d just won a pageant.

wonwoo raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between chan and the girl. “what was that about?”

“he just got dumped,” seungkwan snorted, not even trying to lower his voice.

“i didn’t get dumped,” chan snapped, dropping into the seat at the farthest corner of the table. his arms crossed over his chest, and he glared at the drink menu like it would soothe his ego flames.

“then what was that, huh?” jeonghan chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “looked like a classic walk of shame to me.”

“it’s not a walk of shame if i wasn’t even interested in her,” chan shot back, rolling his eyes. but the tips of his ears were burning red, and everyone knew it.

hoshi leaned across the table, eyes wide with fake sympathy. “oh no… our poor dino… bowing to rejection for the first time…”

“i said i didn’t get dumped!” chan’s voice cracked halfway through, and the whole table burst into laughter.

you raised an eyebrow at him, your lips twitching as you fought to keep a straight face. “what’s with the attitude, chan? you mad or something?”

his eyes flicked to you, narrowing slightly. “why would i be mad? can we not do this right now?”

“oh, we’re doing this,” seungkwan said, his grin practically splitting his face in half. “because ‘dino never bows,’ right? except now he’s sulking like a kicked puppy.”

“i’m not sulking,” chan mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands.

“okay, whatever helps you sleep at night,” you teased, turning back to jeonghan. but out of the corner of your eye, you could see chan glaring daggers at you, and it only made your smile grow wider.

the car ride home was tense, to say the least. chan hadn’t said a word since you both left the restaurant, but the way he slumped in the passenger seat, arms crossed and face scrunched up, was louder than any tantrum he could’ve thrown.

“where are we going?” he finally snapped, his tone sharp.

“my place,” you said simply, not even glancing at him.

“your place?!” he sat up straighter, glaring at you. “why the hell are we going to your place? you were supposed to drop me off at home.”

“yeah, well,” you said, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, “plans change.”

“you can’t just—”

“shush,” you interrupted, cutting him off. “you’re being annoying.”

his jaw dropped again, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. but the second you parked the car in your driveway, he was back to sulking.

you got out without a word, leaving him to follow you up to the front door like a kicked puppy. when you finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, you turned to him, crossing your arms.

“bow,” you commanded, your voice firm.

chan blinked. “what?”

“you heard me,” you said, tilting your head. “bow.”

“are you serious right now?” he asked, his tone incredulous.

“as serious as you were when you tried to make me jealous earlier,” you shot back, smirking.

his face flushed, and he looked away. “i wasn’t—”

“bow,” you repeated, cutting him off.

“fuck no! i won’t!”

chan’s voice shot up an octave, like a toddler who’d just been told no more screen time. he crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly on your living room floor, his pout so exaggerated you almost expected him to stomp his foot.

you raised an eyebrow, your expression shifting into something that could only be described as menacing. chan froze, his breath hitching as he caught the way your eyes darkened—almost black, like a storm cloud about to burst.

“excuse me?” your tone was mean enough to slice through his little tantrum.

he stammered, backtracking immediately. “i mean—uh, i just—”

your arm shot out faster than he could process, your hand finding its target with exactitude that made his knees buckle. you grabbed a handful of his cock and balls through his jeans, squeezing just enough to send the poor boy to hell.

“oh my god—fuck!” he moaned, his head snapping back as his whole body curled forward, instinctively trying to escape the pressure. but you didn’t let go

“what was that? didn’t quite catch that.”

“i said—” his words were cut off by another involuntary moan, this one louder and more desperate. it was, admittedly, the best sound you’d ever pulled from him. his hands flew to your wrist, not to stop you, but to ground his shit, his fingers trembling as he gripped you.

“thought so,” you murmured, loosening your hold just enough for him to breathe. “dino never bows, huh? looks like dino’s about to fold.”

his eyes snapped up to yours, wide and pleading, his lips parted as he panted. “you—fuck—you’re evil,” he managed, though there was no real bite to his words.

“evil?” you echoed, tilting your head like you were contemplating the idea. “nah, i’m just practical. someone’s gotta keep your cocky ass in check.”

he whined—a genuine, high-pitched whine that made your stomach flip—and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“you’re insane,” he gasped, his knees wobbling as you finally released him. he staggered back, his hands flying to his thighs as he tried to collect himself, but his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes betrayed him.

“insane?” you repeated, crossing your arms. “coming from the guy who just moaned like i handed him the meaning of life?”

“shut up,” he grumbled, his voice shaky. but the way he bit his lip and avoided your gaze told you everything you needed to know.

“say it,” you said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you.

“say what?”

you grabbed his chin, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to look at you. “say you’re sorry. and say you’ll bow.”

his lips parted, a soft gasp escaping before he quickly clamped his mouth shut. he stared at you for a long moment, his pride and submission warring in his head. but when your thumb brushed against his jaw, his resolve cracked.

“…i’m sorry y/n-nie”

“and?”

he swallowed hard, his cheeks flaming. “and i’ll… bow.”

you tilted your chin higher, arms crossed tight as you stared him down, the very picture of authority. “and you better bow with your waist, not like some punk. i’m your noona, after all.”

chan blinked, his mouth parting slightly like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, like the good little brat he was, he dropped his gaze and bowed low, his hands clasped nervously in front of him, hovering over the space between his legs.

“good,” you hummed, circling him like you were inspecting a new recruit. “at least you know how to listen sometimes.”

he stayed bowed, head low, but you could feel the tension radiating off him—his pride battling against the heat creeping up his neck.

“what?” you teased, stopping in front of him. “you gonna cry?”

his head snapped up, eyes blazing. “no!”

you smirked, stepping closer, your fingers brushing under his chin to tilt his head back up. “then what’s with the face, huh? all red and flustered. you look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”

“you’re so—” he started, but you cut him off, pressing a finger against his lips.

“ah, ah,” you tutted. “no backtalk.”

his eyes widened, the defiance fading intothe face of someone who was growing needy he licked his lips, his tongue just barely brushing against your finger, and you felt the shift—the moment he gave in.

“that’s better,” you said softly, leaning down until your faces were inches apart. “show me what that mouth of yours is really good for.”

his breath hitched, but he nodded, sinking to his knees without another word. his hands found your thighs, steadying himself as he looked up at you, waiting for permission. you let him wait a moment, savoring the sight of him like this—wide-eyed, obedient, and completely at your mercy. then you reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair. “go ahead.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. his hands slid up to your hips as he pressed his face between your legs, no panties—chan doesn't even get surprised anymore—his lips and tongue immediately find you with a desperation that made you sit slightly on his face. you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rocked against him.

he groaned against you, the vibration making you gasp, mainly because his tongue is rolling inside your little hole, and you knew he was doing it on purpose.

“careful,” you warned, tugging his hair hard enough to make him pull back. his lips were swollen, his eyes glassy, and you could see the smugness lurking beneath the glossy lips.

“what?” he asked, his voice rough. “you’re the one who told me to use my mouth.”

“and you’re the one who’s about to regret getting smart with me,” you shot back, pulling him up by his hair and dragging him to the couch.

you pushed him down, climbing onto his lap and pinning his wrists above his head. “you think you’re so clever, huh?”

“i—fu-u-uck—” he stammered as you rolled your hips against him, the friction pulling a low, desperate sound from his throat.

your hands made quick work of unbuckling his belt, fingers steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. you pulled his pants down just enough to let his cock spring free from the navy blue briefs he was wearing, the fabric dampened at the tip where he’d been leaking. his abs flexed involuntarily as the cool air hit him, and you couldn’t help yourself—your hands slid under his shirt, pushing it up to expose his toned chest.

“god, chan,” you murmured, tracing the ridges of his abs with your fingertips. “you’re so fucking hot. like, unfairly hot. it’s distracting, y’know that?”

he froze for a moment, his ears turning bright red. he remembered the first time you’d said something like that—half-drunk at a party, your fingers poking at his stomach while you laughed about how annoying it was that someone could be this good-looking and have abs.

“you like my muscles, noona?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

you rolled your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “obviously, i do. doesn’t mean i’m gonna let you off the hook for being a little shit earlier.”

you licked your palm, wrapping it around his length and smearing the precum that had already gathered at the tip. his hips bucked slightly into your hand, and you tightened your grip just enough to make him gasp.

“noona,” he whined, his voice already high-pitched and needy.

“shh,” you soothed, leaning down to press a kiss to his jaw. “be good for me, baby boy.”

chan nodded, his hands gripping the couch cushions like they were his lifeline as you lined him up with your entrance. you dragged the tip of his cock through your slick folds, teasing him, making him squirm beneath you.

“please,” he begged, his eyes wide and glassy. “please, noona, i’ll be good, i promise.”

you sank down on him slowly, the stretch making you both moan. his hands flew to your hips, but you slapped them away, pinning his wrists to his sides.

“don’t move.”

“yes, noona,” he said, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

you started to ride him, your hips rolling in a rhythm that had him whimpering beneath you.

“sorry,” he choked out, his head falling back against the couch. “sorry, noona.”

“say it again,” you demanded, your nails digging into his chest. “say you’re sorry, and that you’ll never pull that shit again.”

“i’m sorry,” he whimpered, his voice cracking. “i’ll never do it again, i swear.”

“good,” you said, leaning down until your lips brushed against his ear. “because if you ever make me jealous like that again, i’ll rip that girl’s throat out with my nails.”

chan’s eyes fluttered open, a small, breathless laugh escaping him despite the situation. “you’re scary, noona.”

“damn right i am,” you replied, nipping at his earlobe. “but don’t forget, i’m yours. i don’t want anyone else—not your hyungs, not anyone. just you, my handsome baby boy.”

his breath hitched at your words, his hips jerking involuntarily as you rode him harder, faster, chasing both of your highs. “ahh noona,” he gasped, his voice desperate and broken. “d-dont say that! i—fuck, i’m so close.”

“hold it,” you commanded, your fingers wrapping around his throat lightly. “don’t you dare cum until i say you can.”

his entire body trembled, his hands fisting the couch cushions as he fought to obey you. you could see the effort it took, his muscles taut, sweat dripping down his temples.

“good boy, cum.” you praised, finally letting yourself fall over the edge. your orgasm crashed over you, your walls clenching around him and pulling him over with you.

“noona,” he cried out, his hips bucking as he spilled inside you, his moans muffled when you pressed your fingers to his lips. he sucked them obediently, his eyes locked on yours as he rode out his high.

[inu1gf]

you won’t be able to take your eyes off me

characters: gen narumi & soshiro hoshina (separately)

sypnosis: combination of two songs (miniskirt by aoa and give it to me by sistar)

a/n: my first fic so any constructive feedback would be much appreciated!! sorry if they seem a bit too ooc i tired staying in character as much as i could without going too flowery and corny >_< hope you like it and if you have any requests, send them in! and ty to soshiros bbygirl for beta reading;*

never did you think you could capture his attention, the difference not only in rank but raw power they held compared to you should’ve deterred you away but when the attention was reciprocated, you didn’t want it to end. dancing around each other, tiptoeing around the line not knowing if you should push the boundary, to see where this could lead.

as time goes along and seeing no change in this dancing routine that was set between you two, it started to weigh on your heart. does he just want to someone to occupy his time with? is he just doing it to mess with you? to waste your time? to have fun and see what he could do without crossing the clear line between you two. you can’t have that. that would just mean what you thought was a genuine connection, he thought it was a game. you weren’t just gonna stand by, wait for him to come back, and have the cycle repeat again.

out of sight. out of mind.

now what was just a slight peek between the curtains between the two of you, were just closed and locked windows. he wasn’t gonna be able to see that side of you no more. not a moment longer were you going to think of him anymore.

it took a while and you had to show that you were no longer occupied, you finally landed a date. you honestly didn’t think of it as anything serious. just a a little toe dip into the dating pool once again. even though you were ready for a new thing, you literally just got out of a one sided situationship so diving in head first on the first date wasn’t really a smart idea.

going through the process of aligning schedules, making plans, and deciding on the time, and with a little bit of help with outfit planning and a bit of confidence boosting, you were ready for a night out. now you just had to report to your higher ranking officer to give additional notice that you were spending your off day off base.

even if you weren’t on duty or in uniform, it felt a bit weird to not straighten out your clothes and posture before needing to make your presence known.

knock knock knock

“state your name.”

“it’s officer (y/n) reporting.”

“come on in.”

when you opened the door should’ve had a feeling that he’d be in the room…

expecting to see vice captain hasegawa at his desk, you were not sure why the two-toned-haired idiot you were trying to avoid was seated in a place like it was his office. then again you weren't all that surprised when seeing a stack of files on both sides with vice captain hasegawa standing behind him keeping watch.

upon entering both turned your direction to you, different expressions but it was all the same to you since you decided he was just captain narumi to you now and not gen (is what you told yourself but your heart felt like it was going to jump out your chest and land right in front of him for him to sign his name right on it).

“sorry to interrupt captain narumi and vice captain hasegawa. just wanted to report that i will be heading off base, can’t give a specific time but i will be back and i will be present for morning training.” in salute position trying to maintain being fixated on the wall behind both men, you couldn’t trust yourself to not have your expression change if you made eye contact nor could you stop your thoughts from crushing the confidence pep talk that kikoru and rin gave before leaving your room.

what you didn’t notice was the look over gen gave you when you stepped through the threshold nor could you have noticed the fast-paced heartbeat and heated ears that donned him once he saw how breathtaking you looked. having only seen you in either your regular civies or defense uniform, it would’ve made him beamed with pride had the change in clothing style been for him, but seeing as you haven’t even spared him a glance in a matter of weeks, he was happy to at least be in the same room with a good 6-foot distance separating you two.

as of late the only time, you would even allow yourself to be near him (at a wide distance but still being in the same room) is if it’s he finally decided to grace the first division with his presence and oversee training, or he’s dragged to a meeting and scuffed at the neck like a kitten by hasegawa. as if a switch flicked in your head, one day you couldn’t help but be next to him no matter the time or place, and now you couldn’t be in a room with him unless you had to.

he doesn’t even know why he is having such a hard time bringing up the situation or just speaking to you in general. this isn’t him. sure he can’t stand when his vice captain talks to him as if his title as captain of the first division doesn’t exist but with how you two danced around the line he didn’t know whether he should make his move or even how he should do it. like come on, holding his rank as both captain of the first division and japans strongest anti-kaiju combatant, and he doesn’t mean to brag (he totally does hope it wows you even more) most if not all, hold him in high regard and entrust the safety of the entire freaking country and defense force to him. this should at least boost his points with you. its not like you don’t know what he can’t do having been on the battlefield together. his speed and durability. his strength and endurance. his skilled martial arts mastery and intellect. never been one to shy away from flaunting his abilities that clearly sets him ranks above the rest (okay big head we get it you’re the best at what you do), it should show that what he can do and has to offer can push you more to him. so why is it that you are trying to pull away from him?

“…captain. captain narumi? CAPTAIN NARUMI?” finally registering that it was you who was calling him back off of whatever cloud he seemed to have found himself on since you came in, he looks at both you and hasegawa in confusion.

“yes, do you need something from me?” trying to make himself look like he wasn’t just spiraling into a hole of turmoil trying to see what could he have possibly done to have you in front of him dressed up so attractively appealing for someone.

“nothing sir. just wanted to wish you both a great night. hopefully, my intrusion didn’t slow down your progress on your work. i’ll get out of your hair and be on my way out.” with a quick salute, you leave straight away not wanting to waste anytime to get to your date (you may not truly like the guy but it’s not like you’re so cold-hearted to just leave him standing after all the planning that went into this date even if you don’t feel like going out now).

with your uver estimated time being 5 minutes away, you tried to speed walk as fast as you could to the entrance doors while simultaneously trying to keep the miniskirt kikoru slipped you in from riding even further up than you could handle. now just hearing the clacking of the high heels, you couldn’t focus on the sounds around you, trying to make it to the exit as fast as possible. nothing could have prepared you for the sudden pull on your arm into the quiet and empty hallway, would anything have prepared you for the sharp deep red eyes that you have been trying to avoid looking at for weeks.

“so what the first time in ages that you speak to me and you can’t even look at me and ‘captain’ or ‘sir’? haven’t heard you call me that since you first arrived. what happened to just narumi? what happened to gen? what’s with the sudden name change? sudden change in everything as a matter of fact? what happened? just tell me what went wrong!” a frenzy of questions snowballed right at you giving you no time even react to the first one. you couldn’t even look away from him when his presence and energy was just demanding your full focus and attention on nothing and no one but him.

“i can’t do this right with you, captain. my ride is going to be here in less than 4 minutes. as of a few minutes ago, i’m not on duty to have my off time disrupted. if that was all you had to say, please let me go. i have a date i can’t miss.”

date. (what?!)

a date. (where?!)

you’re dressed nice and pretty for a date. (why?!)

you’re dressed up nice and pretty because you’re going to a date. (when was this decided?!)

you’re dressed up nice and pretty because you’re going to a date thats not with him. (with who?!)

as he spiraled down his flurry of emotions that seemed to show on his face and eyes even with his mop of hair practically covering a good portion of his face, you were able to bear witness to each one. one right after the other tugging at your heart. making your brain go into its state of unraveling on the tight knot it held on your feelings for him begin to rise its way back out. you just couldn’t hold back on what you had been holding onto.

“please captain just please let me go. please don’t hold onto me anymore. please stop practically taking all my attention. please just stop giving me hope in whatever you lead me to believe this even is.” from the tight hold his eyes held onto yours to trying to focus on the high ceilings to blink away at the tears that threatened to fall and make a mess at what took hours of your support team working on to make sure that even if you were suited up in your usual uniform, you’d be able to battle anything that came your way. yet you seem to be losing the one you started one-sidedly.

“you want me to let you go after you walk in, looking smoking hot by the way, and finally talking to me after weeks of no response from you, only to find out you are going out on a date with some random who probably doesn’t know you as well as i do? i don’t care if i have to throw you in my office and break the handle to keep you in there, you will not be leaving my side. especially for some date with someone that’s not me. when did this even happen? how did this even happen? i’m pretty sure i’ve been dishing out more duties to you just to keep you occupied until you finally had enough to just come to yell at me about it.” he’s been dumping workloads on you on purpose? “anyways you’re not leaving. you are not leaving me. you understand that? now what’s this about ‘me giving you hope’? why would i stop? i thought what we had was something. im into you. you’re into me. why stop that? why try to go on a date another some other guy when that’s the step we’re supposed to be on? cancel that uver. they could be outside right now for all i give a crap. you’re sticking with me and we’re hashing this out. now.” not even letting you fight back, he starts to pull you into the familiar direction where his room is. one that you thought you would never be in again.

the closer you get, the more erratic the pounding in your chest, and the more your mind races having you think it was just the cycle repeating itself.

finally deciding to drop your weight in the opposite direction he was pulling you to (didn’t really do much in all honesty) does he decide to finally look at you again, seeing you in the heart-wrenched state he put you in. “i’m dressed for a date not a situationship lecture from the one who i was in a situationship with. so unless you’ve decided to actually take my feelings for you seriously then i won’t be going in there.”

“give me 30 minutes. i’ll take you on the best date you’ll ever have. by the time it’s over, you’ll never think about being on anyone’s side but mine.”

you didn’t even realize you were standing outside his door, until he faced forward opening his room, having you sit on his throne as he gathered his clothes and such, making the light bulb in your head come to light as you realize that you’re going on a date with gen. not the poor guy who has now been waiting for a response to his texts for the past 15 minutes.

wc: 1.8k

it shouldn’t have surprised you that he’d be here with captain ashiro, it really didn’t phase you as much as you thought it did. not wanting to show how it affected you, you fixated your gaze onto captain ashiro herself, but it was like he was invading your sight everywhere you went. with his back towards you not even wanting to acknowledge your presence, the clenching around your heart was a dull ache, but it was nothing new. you’ve already steeled your nerves when you decided that if he wasn’t going to do anything with what you thought was something good between you then you weren’t gonna waste your time.

“sorry to disturb you, captain ashiro and vice captain hoshina. the officers advised me to give notice just in case so i wanted to report that i would be off base for a few hours.” you didn’t know if it was because you were standing under an air vent or just your nerves running rampant, but it was just making the chills drive up your legs that not even the stockings covering your legs could provide a small ounce of warmth.

“it’s just us here so you don’t have to call me captain. you look pretty by the way. where you going?” it wasn’t known to most of the division that you and ashiro were friends. after a run in at the convenience store for some dried shredded squid where you both reach for the last one in stock, it sparked a quiet friendship between you two, and leading to you both meeting a few times cooking dishes for her, where you would use the shredded squid, after finding out she can’t really use a kitchen knife to save her life.

having heard his captain compliment someone out loud, soshiro doesn’t fully turn to you but just half way so he can see you in his general peripheral vision, and what his captain said was no lie at all.

now standing in a common hand-on-hip pose just seeming more slightly relaxed, he starts his trail at your black red bottom high heels that make the sheer black stockings that hug your legs in a way that has him weak in the knees, having to hold onto the desk he was starting to lean on, paired with a miniskirt and blouse that accentuated the lovely curves he can’t help but fantasize about when he’s alone with nothing but himself and his thoughts.

what pulled him out of his current position was your response.

“just a date with someone from the operations department.”

just a date.

just a date.

JUST A DATE.

“what the fuck.” who said that? did he say that? he didn’t mean to say it out loud, but as quick as he said it he masked his surprise, in case it slipped off him, and adjusted himself since he started to feel two sets of eyes on him. he could feel them burning on his side.

“this section on the report is wrong. i’ll go check it out to see how to fix it. I’ll leave yall to it.” giving this the only time to be able to turn himself facing to you, he got to see you in your full glory. you look as beautiful as you always do everytime he sees you.

Just as he gets ready to salute his captain, you salute back to him and start to head towards the door before him.

“I’ll let you know how it goes, shiro!” with a little wave to both captains, you rush out the doors and zip through the halls making it in time outside as your uver driver arrives.

if the drive didn’t feel like it had gotten you to your destination too fast, then it was the date that felt like it went painstakingly slow. all they did was talk about themselves, how they had done this and that, and how if they were given the chance, they would’ve done this better than hoshina. hoshina. how you honestly wished it had been him here, instead of the self absorbed person who’s done nothing but waste about 3 hours of your time.

you would’ve left halfway through but if it wasn’t for the gnawing ache in your heart of having to accept that even if you try to be with someone who wasn’t him, you wouldn’t have been able to open your heart to them the way you bore your heart open to him.

it seemed like you didn’t have to sit and suffer in silence any longer because it seemed like even thought they couldn’t get enough of hearing the sound of their our voice, they hated that you didn’t egg them on to continue their endless stream of compliments they wanted to shower themselves in. just slapping a few bills on the table, they left without so much as a glance to you, but you weren’t going to complain about it either. sure it was possibly the worst date you’ve ever been on, but at least you can finally get yourself out of this outfit. sure it was the best thing you’ve wore out since joining the force, but to have it wasted on a date as horrible them, all you could do is hope that whoever decided to take you out next will be worth the amount of effort you put in dressing yourself for.

who were you kidding? as if you’d ever subject yourself to another one like that ever again. sure they may not all be self absorbed and do nothing but waste your time, but at least after each date it wouldn’t have you feeling guilty for wasting theirs as well because no matter how many people you choose to be with, they’ll never be able to occupy the empty space in your heart that he decided to make his place in.

making your way back to base was easy enough if it wasn’t for man himself standing next to the entrance doors.

“well wasn’t that quick. what’d they do? stand you up?” as if that was the greatest joke he ever heard, he couldn’t help but do that cute laugh that he does, clutching at his sides while little by little slightly bending at the knees.

“ ha ha ha! laugh it up. and for your information, he didn’t stand me up. we had a nice time.” lie. “, and he treated me to that restaurant i’ve been wanting to go to.” half lie. “i see the promise of a second date in our near future. so laugh it up while you can. save it for someone who can’t get a date. wait a minute… isn’t that ‘someone’ you?” thinking that should have at least stunned him, you started to make your way past him, but what you didn’t count on was the sudden grip and spin you got in return now having to face the man himself. eyes open and fixated on yours. unmoving. it was a test checking to see who would make the first move…

but you’ve had enough with games.

enough with the side glances.

enough with second too long stares.

enough with the unmovable mocking grin he seemed to give anytime you were caught looking in his direction.

enough with the flirty inside jokes.

enough with the flushed face when he pays just a little more attention to you than he did with others.

enough with waiting.

enough of tail chasing you seemed to be doing just to get him to look at you the same way you look at him.

enough with just being strung along.

enough with him.

“if that’s the case then, why would you be with him and not me?” it seems like today was just full of surprises. there was no way those string of words came out of his mouth. however, if that question didn’t throw you in a loop then the second one did the trick.

“what can i do to make you stay with me?” you couldn’t even back away. with the tightening grip he had on you as if you were just going to sprint in the opposite direction if he were to weaken his hold on you and in no way would you have stayed as well.

did it really have to take him seeing you actually going on a date for him to finally make a move?—but again, if you wanted to hear anything on a already bad day after a bad date, then might as well have it done now.

“are you fucking serious right now?” you don’t care that you are about to get disciplinary action for what you just said to your superior, but who wouldn’t react that way when it was what you needed to hear a few weeks ago for the man himself. no longer were you just going to hide behind the little actions you’ve been doing to keep distance between you two. no not anymore, and if you had to hash it out in from of the division building then so be it. already too frustrated from the crap date and crap ride back just to be stopped by the problem itself only to be landed right back where you started, you just need the weight to be lifted off your chest so you can finally just breathe.

“what do you want? what is it to you that i went out on a date or that ill be going on more? who are you to tell me anything? if anything, you don’t get to dictate what i do outside of my duty to the squad. i’m pretty sure for someone who’s as intelligent as you then you should know how i feel about you and if you anything about me, you should know im not going to wait around anymore just for you to make a move so if you are done with whatever you have right now then just leave me alone” tone getting louder and louder, you don’t seem to notice how his hands went from your shoulders and gently sliding up to hold the sides of your face.

you only notice it when you feel a cold pressure on your lips and then seem to move on their own as they continue to lock with his. heart feeling fuller and your chest feeling lighter. you couldn’t help the tears that started to glide down your face and he couldn’t help himself when he felt them on the pads of his thumbs.

there was no stopping them. what had you agonizing for weeks came to a stop with just one kiss.

apologies coming from him just seemed to make the tear come in steady streams and when he saw that maybe they wouldn’t stop for a while, as if he was holding something so precious (in his case he was), you felt the bottom of your feet lift from the ground and he started to move. to where? you didn’t know. all you can see is the red tint on his ears and feel the tightening grip under your knees and shoulder.

it wasn’t until he adjusted his grip did you glance around to see where you were at.

vice captain hoshina soshiro

he was leading you into his office.

it wasn’t a new place to you. many times you’ve been in here. either waiting out the time as he completes his paperwork so he can give you some more pointers on your swordsmanship (you figured that if there was anyway to get closer to him, it was to learn the craft that he cherished deeply) or just to be in his presence as you helped him with whatever he needed from you (he always made up tasks just to have you around him just a minute longer).

you expected him to just sit you on one of the chairs he has in front of his desk. what you didn’t expect him to do was make his way around it and feel him sit down on his chair with you still in his arms. you didn’t expect him to adjust you so that sitting in his lap. you didn’t expect him to cradle you closer as if he was trying to meld you into him. you didn't expect the small featherlight kisses he lays on your face to get you to calm down.

there were many things you didn’t expect for him to do.

if only those were the only surprises he was going to lay on you, but nothing topped what he said next after resting his forehead onto yours.

“look i know it’ll take a lot to trust what i have to say and i don’t expect you to make it easy. if you can give me time, i promise ill be able to show you just how much you mean to me. i want to be able to make you see that i am yours. that i will always be yours. i hope that you can see just how much i want you to be mine.”

a/n: literally listened to miniskirt by aoa and give it to me by sistar while writing this.

[channiesunshinx]

𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒹 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂

Pairing: Bang Chan x GN!reader Genre: Fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort, Idol!Chan x Fan!Reader Warning: Mention of Insomnia, stress and emotional vulnerability

Recently I have gotten a problem with falling asleep. I have tried many methods but it didn't work. I ended up going to the doctor seeking medical help, he said that i am probably stressed out but still give me sleeping pills to improve my sleeping condition. That night, i was having trouble falling asleep again, i took the sleeping pills that the doctor prescribed me while playing songs in the background. I was slowly drifting off to sleep and somehow I was in this room and there was a guy standing in front of me, I walked towards his direction and patted him on his back.

"Hello? Who are you and do you know where we are?"

The guy turns around in confusion and I recognise him immediately. Bang Chan from Stray Kids

"Oh hey! I am Chan! Or you can call me Chris!" Chan smiles brightly "I have no idea where we are too... i think i fell asleep after taking some sleeping pills and then i somehow appear here too"

"My name is Y/N and i also took some sleeping pills my doctor prescribed me and somehow ended up in this place"

"You have insomnia too?" Chan asked politely

"Yea... the doctor said I was too stressed out..." I chuckle weakly

"Ah~ I am guessing that you still haven't finished your studies?"

"I am currently in my first year of university... it's not as stressful as college but i guess i didn't rest properly during college years so it causes problems afterwards..."

"Oh... i umm-" Chan looks like he was trying to stay something but was debating should he say it or not. so i interrupted him

"You are an idol right? Bang Chan from Stray Kids."

He chuckles weakly "Yea... I guessed I was so famous that some girl I met in my dream knew me too..."

"Don't worry! I am not those crazy saesangs that are trying to bother you! We are not even in the same country!" I quickly shake my head defensively, trying to prove innocence.

"Ah~ I see. You don't mind if I ask you more about yourself?"

"It's just a dream and it wouldn't hurt talking in a dream right? It's not like he will stalk me" i thought

"Of course not! what do you want to know since i know a bit about you already..."

"Where do you live?"

"I live in Australia. Are you still in Korea right now?"

We talked for hours and hours until one of us woke up, it's probably me because I was still talking to Chan when suddenly a ray of sunlight peek through the curtain, waking me up. I blink repeatedly for several times, trying to adjust to the surroundings and the lighting.

The sunlight streaming through the curtains was warm on my face, pulling me back to reality. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. The dream still lingered vividly in my mind, almost as if it weren't a dream at all. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, the clock reading 6:43 a.m. Too early, yet I felt wide awake.

I couldn't shake the feeling that my conversation with Chan had been… real. It didn't have the usual fuzzy edges of a dream. Every word, every expression, even the warmth in his voice had felt genuine.

“Just a coincidence," I muttered to myself, brushing off the lingering unease. “Dreams are weird like that.”

Still, curiosity gnawed at me. I opened Spotify and played some Stray Kids songs while getting ready for the day. Hearing his voice brought back flashes of the dream—the room, his smile, the way he said my name like he’d known me for years.

The day dragged on. University classes felt longer than usual, and every time I caught a moment to myself, my thoughts drifted back to the dream. By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I debated skipping dinner altogether but decided against it. Eating might help me sleep better tonight.

That evening, I hesitated before taking the sleeping pill the doctor prescribed. I stared at the little white tablet in my palm, the events of last night replaying in my head. Shaking my head at myself for overthinking, I swallowed the pill with a sip of water and climbed into bed. I played soft music in the background again, hoping it would help me drift off faster.

This time, the dream came almost instantly.

I was back in the same room. It looked exactly as I remembered. And standing there, just as before, was Bang Chan.

“Y/N?” he said, his eyes widening when he saw me. “You're here again?”

“Wait… you remember me?” My voice came out shaky, disbelief flooding my system.

“Of course I do,” he said, a look of concern crossing his face. “I thought it was just a one-time thing, but here we are again. I don't know what's going on, but…” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “This doesn't feel like a normal dream, does it?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. Dreams aren't supposed to be this clear. Or… consistent.” He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I even tried to convince myself I imagined you last night, but now… I'm starting to think this place is real. Or at least some kind of shared dream.”

“Shared dream?” I repeated, my mind racing. “But how? Why would we…?”

“I don't know,” he admitted, his voice soft. “But maybe we’re here for a reason.” We stared at each other, the weight of his words settling between us. A reason. What could possibly connect me, an exhausted first-year university student, and him, an idol on the other side of the world?

“Have you ever experienced something like this before?” I asked.

Chan shook his head. “No, never. But I'll admit… I've been struggling to sleep lately too. The schedules, the pressure, it gets overwhelming sometimes.” He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe the universe decided we both needed someone to talk to.”

I chuckled nervously. “Well, the universe has a weird sense of humor. Of all people, it paired me with a K-pop idol?”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Guess you’re stuck with me for now.” We sat down—or at least, we mimicked sitting on the nonexistent floor—and started talking again. This time, it felt even more natural, like catching up with an old friend. He shared stories about the struggles of being a leader, the sacrifices he’d made for his career, and the moments that made it all worth it. I told him about my family, my dreams of becoming a dancer, and the crippling fear of failing to live up to everyone's expectations.

Time passed differently here. Hours could've gone by, or maybe just minutes—it was impossible to tell. But eventually, Chan leaned back and sighed.

“I don't want to wake up,” he admitted. “This is… nice. Peaceful.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. “But we'll have to wake up eventually.” He looked at me, something unreadable in his expression. “Promise me something?”

“What?”

“If this is real—if we ever figure out what's happening—promise me we’ll meet in real life.”

I blinked, taken aback. “You'd want that?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “You're easy to talk to. And… I feel like we're meant to cross paths. Don't you?”

I hesitated but nodded. “Yeah. I think so too.”

Before I could say anything else, the familiar pull of waking up began. The edges of the dream blurred, and Chan's voice became distant.

“Until next time,” he called out, his voice echoing as the dream dissolved.

I woke up with a start, my heart racing. The sunlight poured through my window, the same as yesterday. But this time, I wasn't confused or disoriented.

This time, I smiled.

There will be a next time. I was sure of it.

Every night, I would take sleeping pills and go back to the same room, talking to chan every time, it felt so real but at the same time i knew it was a dream. Somehow, Chan slowly cured my insomnia, I stopped having the need to take sleeping pills in order to sleep. Until one night, i stopped going to the same room, i stopped seeing chan in my dreams. It was disappointing and hurting to know I couldn't talk to him anymore, even in another dimension. But when i was scrolling through chan's instagram posts, i saw his latest post was a picture of him in the office with the caption- "Dreams" and the usual stay hashtag, i quickly commented under the post saying "Lucid dreams?"

The notification chimed almost immediately after I posted the comment: 3,245 other users also commented. My heart sank. Of course, with millions of fans commenting on every post, my little comment—“Lucid dreams?”—would be swallowed up in the sea of STAYs.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. What if… what if he saw it? What if he somehow recognized me, even through a simple question? The thought was absurd, but I clung to it. I refreshed the post again and again, hoping for some sign—a like, a reply, anything. Hours passed, and nothing happened. I sighed, tossing my phone onto the bed. It was silly to expect anything. It had been weeks since the dreams stopped. Maybe it was time to let go. But letting go wasn't as easy as I thought. Every night, I lay in bed, hoping to see him again, to return to that strange, serene room where time stood still, and the world outside didn’t matter. Every morning, I woke up to disappointment.

Until one evening, something strange happened.

It was a typical, uneventful day. Classes, assignments, dinner—everything blurred together in a monotonous haze. I didn’t even feel particularly tired when I climbed into bed that night. No sleeping pills, no music. Just me and the quiet hum of the world outside my window.

As my eyelids grew heavy, I felt it—that familiar pull, like being gently tugged into a dream.

My heart raced. Was it happening again?

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the room.

The sight hit me like a wave of nostalgia. The walls, the faint glow of light from nowhere, the soft hum of silence—it was exactly as I remembered.

And then I saw him.

“Chan!” I called out, my voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief.

He turned around, his face lighting up as soon as he saw me. “Y/N!”

I ran to him, barely resisting the urge to throw my arms around him. “You're here,” I said breathlessly.

“I thought I'd never see you again.”

He smiled, a bit sadly. “I thought the same. It's been… strange, hasn't it?”

“Strange doesn't even begin to cover it,” I admitted, laughing weakly. “Why did it stop? Why now?”

Chan hesitated, looking down at his hands. “I don't know. But I think…” He looked up, his gaze locking with mine. “I think I needed to figure some things out. And maybe… you did too.”

I frowned. “Figure out what?”

“That sometimes, even in a dream, we can find what we need to move forward.” He paused, his expression softening. “I know it hurts when the dreams stop, but I think it was the universe telling us to keep going on our own for a bit. To prove we could.”

His words sank in slowly, each one hitting me with an ache I hadn't realized I'd been carrying.

“I missed you,” I admitted quietly.

“I missed you too,” he said, his voice low. “Every single night.”

We sat down, just like we always did, and talked for what felt like hours. He told me about the new songs he was working on, how he'd been channeling his thoughts and emotions into his music. I shared how I'd finally started finding joy in my dance classes again, even teaching a few younger students.

It felt like no time had passed at all, and yet, everything was different. As the dream began to fade, Chan reached out, taking my hand in his. “Before you go, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“I saw your comment,” he said, his smile soft but knowing.

My heart stopped. “You… you did?”

He nodded. “I didn't reply because… I didn't know if it was really you. But I felt it. I knew it was. And I think… Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe we're supposed to meet in the real world.” I could barely breathe. “How?”

“Keep dancing,” he said, his voice steady. “Keep following your dreams. And I'll keep making music. If we're meant to meet, it'll happen.”

The dream dissolved before I could say another word.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm, the faint traces of his voice still lingering in my ears. This time, I didn't feel the crushing sadness of his absence.

Instead, I felt hope.

Weeks turned into months, and life went on. I threw myself into my studies and dancing, finding comfort in the rhythm of my routines. But I never stopped thinking about Chan, about his words, about the possibility that our paths might cross again.

And then, one day, it happened.

I had just finished performing at a small dance showcase in Sydney. It was nothing big—just a local event—but I was proud of myself for putting my heart into it. As I was packing up my things, a commotion near the entrance caught my attention.

When I turned around, my heart nearly stopped.

There he was. Bang Chan, standing in the doorway, wearing a casual hoodie and cap, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the world around us fading into nothing.

Then he smiled, the same warm, genuine smile I’d seen so many times in my dreams.

“Told you we'd meet,” he said softly, his voice carrying across the room.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

[theartofwoompwoomp]

No, it’s just you.

Earthspark Bumblebee x human reader 

Summary: you should have never met your idol.

———————————————————————

You were a caretaker for the Malto family’s children. When Dot started fighting alongside the autobots, you were assigned to her kids as a guaranteed protection.

When the war ended and they moved out they had ask for you to go with them. Honestly you were attached as well, so you didn’t say no.

You got along with the whole family. In fact one reason was because of your admiration and love for bumblebee. 

It wasn’t as deep as the Maltos father, but you definitely were one of his biggest fans.

And even if your life had turned all over again, you didn’t mind have two more kids under your wing.

Heck, and when dot notified you that the Bumblebee was going to be working with you, you were ecstatic ! 

You had heard many stories about him. You wondered if he’d really live up to his name.

———-

You were outside with kids waiting for the autobot to arrive. But he didn’t seem to be coming. 

Encouraging the kids to do something while you waited, you all ended up around fluffy ears. It was nice, and fun. 

Well it was,… until your supposed hero showed up. 

You understand this mission isn’t technically the easiest for him. But he was being an overkill. The kids didn’t feel comfortable around him and his actions really stared to shatter your image of him.

Each time he’d push to far, you at first would try to help him see what he was missing, but this guy had the audacity to interrupt you and not even acknowledge your advice.

All the kids were a bit offended when the saw this. Once again fueling their hatred towards the bot.

You wondered if Optimus really made the right choice, but you guess only time could tell.

———

You admit his teaching has gotten better, but some of his attitude still pricked you. And you knew he could tell.

Honestly the mission had gone a lot smoother once he started seeing them as family and not an assignment.

The only problem was you.

He had tried sparking up conversations and getting to know you. But everything he did led to short conversations. He couldn’t make them last. Your answers were always direct and to the point.

It was frustrating.

You weren’t mean or rude to him. But he just couldn’t form an actual friendship with you. And he needed you to trust him, especially since the both of you are working together all the time. 

One day he was fed up with everything and you were the last straw. “Hey man, why are you always so- so defensive. You know we’re on the same team right.”

His words only sparking your own anger. He has a point that you haven’t been the most open, but saying you have been defensive is an overstatement.

“Hey now, that’s pushing it a bit.” He scoffed at that rolling his eyes. “Please, you treat me differently from everyone else. And yeah I do notice.”

“Well.. sorry for being careful with my actions. I tend to be like that around rude pricks who didn’t even want anything with us!”

This was the most emotion you had directed at him. He didn’t like how it felt. How his spark tugged with each word you kept saying.

“Don’t you see bee, you’re the problem.”

————————————————————————

masterlist 

[fourkisses]

i stare at the crash (it actually works) ✷

a cs55 written-smau series where . . .

carlos sainz signs with porsche after getting ditched by ferrari only to find himself in a heated rivalry with his teammate, the only female driver on the grid. oh, and did i mention she's also his ex-girlfriend?

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!porsche driver!reader

warnings: words. lots of words.

a/n: i may or may not have been missing in action for the past six months because of college (really deeply sorry for that.) anyhoo, here's part three. i hope u enjoy :)

ᯓ★ PART THREE: THE PROBLEM

Porsche F1 Headquarters | Monday, 01:38 PM

“You absolutely cannot race each other on the track from now on,” Reuben, Porsche's team principal, calmly announces.

You hung your head low, sinking lower on the couch. Carlos who is seated across you can only clench his jaw in response.

You two have been called in his office today after the debrief with the team. Everyone’s eyes were on you as you both walked outside the boardroom like two high school students who just got called into the principal’s office.

“If you two keep performing like this, then it would be greatly detrimental and dangerous not only to the team but to your safety as well.”

The tension in the room is manageable, but the embarrassment? Deafening. The guilty silence is so loud you think you’re in one of those mental torture rooms you keep seeing on the internet, with all the white walls and no windows. Then again, you thought to yourself after remembering all the stressful calls and negotiations done in this room, that yeah, it’s kind of like that.

“I’m sorry if I’m going over the line but I just have to ask this,” Reuben's voice snapping you back to reality, “but do you have some personal, err… how do I word this. . . grudges? Against each other?”

Instinctively, you look up to Carlos. His eyes meet yours. You both hold your gaze, determined to not lose this staring game. In the end, the Spaniard was the first one to break the contact. You both turn to the German who was sitting on his desk, answering his query at the same time.

“Sí.”

“No.”

Your gaze whips back to Carlos’ direction, glaring at him. Fucking hell. “No, Ru, we don’t.”

“Are you sure? You know I admire you both and I really believe in each one’s talent, but whenever you’re on track.. you just forget everyone else and the only competitor you see is each other.

“I get it that you both have a chance for the championship, but you know why Max is still the one leading?”

He looks at you, then at Carlos, before sighing. “It’s because you’re busy taking each other out instead of outperforming the other teams.”

Carlos comes to his own defense. “I’m not the one who always pushes their teammate off track when the race starts.”

You scoff. “It’s not my problem he keeps bottling his pole positions.”

“It’s because you keep pushing me off the track!”

“I don’t! You’re just stupid to not see that there’s no space left! It’s a fucking racetrack, not a public highway, so why would you squeeze yourself when there’s no spa–”

“Ay, come on! You always do that even in the middle of the race! Remember Imola? Yeah, and you didn’t even take penalty for that!”

“What, so you decide to shove me into the wall yesterday? Because of that?!”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was an accident! It was in a corner and I’m trying to turn but then you try to overtake even though you can clearly see there was no spa—”

“We’re the only cars in that area! Don’t give me that no space shit!”

“So it’s okay if you use it to reason out but if I do it’s not?!”

“Oh mein gott, stop it, both of you!” says Reuben, his voice echoing throughout the whole room, interrupting you and Carlos in the middle of your. . . conversation.

“See? This is what I’m talking about! You two act like you’re a divorced couple fighting for your pet dog’s custody! And it’s worse on track! Did you ever review what happened yesterday?”

Of course you did—with Carlos, during the post-race debrief earlier. But what the team doesn’t realize is that no matter how many times they replay every moment from the race, they’ll never uncover the real reason it happened. Yesterday's issue wasn't on the track. It happened outside. In the the pit lane, specifically.

Pit Lane, Silverstone Circuit • Race Day | 07:39 AM

You've heard of stories about couples who work with each other.

Usually they don't end well, that's why people do not recommend doing so. Don't shit where you eat or something like that, as some would say. Something with blurring boundaries and the un-seperation of work from personal life or whatever.

But stories about ex-couples who work with each other? Rarely spoken of. Maybe it's because people usually avoid even just breathing the same air with the person they once went down for (figuratively and literally), so the chances of a fire burning the entire workplace is low. But the scarcity of information regarding the comedic potential of this absolute shitshow begs the question that half of the human population (okay, maybe less) gives a fuck about: How does it end?

Well, good thing you're here to tell your own first-hand experience.

You hear the squeaking of approaching footsteps against the floor. Not long after the sound comes to a stop as the owner of those footsteps arrive to stand beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Carlos clears his throat. Despite and in spite of you not looking in his direction, you just know it's him. And despite and in spite of his presence, you continue bathing in your perpetual state of calm, keeping your gaze glued to the track in front of you.

“So,” he says, revving up a conversation. “You're gonna fly with the Ferrari boys the rest of the season?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Looks like it.”

“Max told me to invite you to fly with us sometimes.”

Really? You turn to face him but you see his eyes already staring at you in anticipation, waiting for a response. Talk about catching you off-guard. “Can I bring Lew?”

Now Carlos was the one caught off-guard. Why the fuck would you ask to bring Lewis?

In your defense, Lewis doesn't have that many close friends inside the track. You're just playing shepherd here, herding the sport's sheeps inside one pen so they can mingle with each other.

“Oh... uhm... I— he ... Max..” he starts to fumble, his eyes to the floor, to your side, up the sky, everywhere except meeting yours. He scratches the tip of his nose before replying.“Err, Max only mentioned you so.. I don't know if.. Lewis can, you know.. come.”

You cross your arms, turning your body back to the track in front of you. Welp. That was awkward. “Then tell Max I said thanks, but no thanks.”

Carlos' face contorted. So much for making amends, he thought.

“What's up with you and Lewis anyways? Are you two, like, you know, together?” he asks coolly, but deep inside he's dying to know. Keep it together, hijo de puta.

You're eyebrows knit in confusion. “What's with the questions?”

“Nothing! It's just that you two always hang out, you know... having your own little world and.. all that...” he trails off.

”And why does that concern you, Carlos? You're my teammate, not my boyfriend, remember?”

Carlos is taken aback by your blunt statement. The fuck? “So what if I'm not your boyfriend anymore? Dios mio, Y/N, maybe I'm asking because you're friends with the person who took my seat? And that you hate me? And we're fighting for the title? And only God knows what things you two are plotting against me?”

You swear to the heavens that if your jaw wasn't attached to your skull, it would've been on the floor already with all the blasphemy you just heard coming from his mouth. You turn to face him.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Wow. Just. Wow. Up until now, he still doesn't trust you. After everything, he still doesn't trust you.

Carlos raises both of his arms. “I said what I said!”

You feel your blood boil, the ether of hatred for this man you once loved seething within you. You take a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you, all while never taking your gaze off his.

You look up at him, speaking with your voice low. “Carlos, have you ever heard of the phrase ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ ?”

Carlos chuckles. “What, you're gonna tell me that's your excuse as to why you're always with Lewis? Huh? You're keeping your enemies closer?”

Fucker.

��No, Carlos,” you replied with conviction. “Lewis is actually the first half of the quote.”

“Oh yeah?”

Instead of replying, you put your palm on his chest. He looks you in the eye and you hold his gaze. His eyebrows furrow. You speak again.

“The second half, mi amor, is why you and I are teammates.”

You tap him on his chest.

Then and there, the smug look on his face completely falters.

And then and there, you walk away.

How does it end? Truth is you really don't know. But how does it end up for you? Well, let me tell you something . . .

Porsche F1 Headquarters | Monday, 02:01 PM

Holy shit, you thought to yourself.

Reuben had already moved on and is now talking about plans for the summer break. You, however, are still stuck on a profound realization that just hit you after recalling what happened between you and Carlos before yesterday's race. An idea that you can't get out of your head. A reflection that resonated deeply. A thought that just won't stop haunting you.

. . . Are we the new Alpine?

← previous part next part →

[graciegoeskrazy]

you call yourself a friend?

(OFC!Maise Macdonald + Ross + Matty)

Warnings: matty is the bitchiest bitchy bitch, amazing dad ross, crying toddler, screaming, they make up for it tho :)

A/n: FIRST FIC OF 2025! Hope everyone had a happy and safe new years!

The hum of the tour bus engine provided a steady backdrop as Ross knelt in front of Maise, her tiny arms stretched above her head as he slipped a soft, purple sweater over her little frame. Her usually messy hair was fastened into two high pigtails that Ross has perfected at this point in solo parenting. She giggled as Ross tickled her sides while adjusting her sweater, her laughter soft and sweet, cutting through the low chatter around them. The rest of the band lingered around the cramped space: George scrolling on his phone, Adam nursing a cup of coffee while reading, and Matty pacing near the door, clearly agitated.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get your shoes on," Maise wiggled her feet, off in her own little world. “Where are those little things? We’ve got to find your pink…”

“They’re under the couch,” George mumbled without looking up from his phone. Ross leaned forward to peer under the seat, finding the tiny sneakers nestled in the corner.

Matty’s voice cut through the bus, sharp and laced with anger. “I’m telling you, it’s absolute bullshit! They think they can just shove us into whatever promo crap they want without even asking?”

“Matty,” Adam warned, his voice low but firm. “It’s too early for this.”

“Too early? It’s too late for them to keep pulling this crap. We should’ve put our foot down ages ago!”

"It’s a five-minute promo, Matty. Not the end of the world," George said, voice calm but firm.

Ross sighed, slipping Maise’s shoes onto her little feet. “Mate, we’ll deal with it when we stop. No use winding yourself up about it now.”

“Oh, thanks, Ross,” Matty shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “That’s really helpful. Just sit there playing Dad of the Year while the rest of us have to clean up this mess.”

Ross stiffened but stayed calm, keeping his focus on Maise as she giggled, oblivious to the tension. “Matty, I know there’s a lot happening right now but there really is nothing that can be done. We all have bigger things to deal with right now, but we will all deal with this together when the time is right, like we have always done.

Matty snapped, his voice rising. He turned on his heel, gesturing wildly. “Oh, please, Ross. We’ve never done it together. It’s always you who gets to check out whenever it suits you. Must be nice to have a cute little excuse sitting on your lap.”

Maise froze, her smile fading as she glanced up at Matty, confused by his tone. Her big brown eyes filled with uncertainty. “Daddy?” she murmured, her tiny hand gripping the fabric of her pants.

“That’s enough, Matty,” Ross said, his voice steady but with an edge of warning.

Matty barely acknowledged him, his rant gaining momentum. "You- you all act like this is normal. Like we should just bow down and say thank you for wasting our time! I’m so tired of this shit-"

"Language," Ross interrupted, his voice more direct this time as he glanced at Maise.

Matty’s eyes snapped to Ross. "Language? Really? She’s not even listening."

Maise started to flinch at his words as she kept her focus down.

Ross kept his focus on Maise, but his shoulders tensed. "She’s always listening. Just dial it down a notch."

"Oh, give me a break!" Matty snapped, throwing his arms up. "Can we not pretend this is the first time she’s heard someone say ‘fuck’?"

Maise, sitting quietly on the bench beside her dad, froze at the sharp tone. Her wide eyes flicked between the two men. Ross noticed her lower lip tremble ever so slightly, and his jaw tightened.

"Can we not do this around my baby?" Ross said, his voice calm but with an edge as he looked at him.

Matty shot him a glare. "Oh my God- I don’t care about your baby!"

The words hung in the air, heavier than the pounding of the rain against the windows. For a moment, no one moved. Maise’s tiny hands curled into the fabric of her sweater as she let out a soft, muffled sob. She tried so hard to hold it in, but the hurt was too much to swallow.

It took a beat too long for Matty to realize what he’d said. His expression flickered - defensiveness melting into regret - but Ross didn’t wait for an apology.

He kissed the top of Maise’s head, his voice soft and steady as he murmured to her. "Hey, hey, it’s okay, love. Let’s get you ready to go, yeah? It’s time to eat breakfast.

She nodded weakly but didn’t say anything, her lips pressed into a tight line as she fought to keep her emotions in check. A single tear escaped, sliding down her cheek, and Ross quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the fact that his baby girl’s broken heart was making his break. “Let’s find your bunny, huh?” Ross said, his voice bright and warm, desperate to distract her. “We’ll get Bunny all ready for the day too. Where did we put him last night?”

“By my bed,” Maise whispered, her voice barely audible. He nodded and picked her up. She immediately curled into him. Her tiny hands clung to Ross’s shirt as he moved toward the back of the bus, gently swaying her in his arms. She peaked her eyes out from hiding in Ross’s shoulder but quickly hid again when her glossy eyes met Matty’s.

Behind them, the tension in the bus hung heavy. Matty stood frozen, guilt etched across his face. George and Adam exchanged pointed looks as they stood next to him, but neither said a word as Ross disappeared into the back.

“I didn’t mean…” Matty started, his voice trailing off.

“Yeah, you never do,” George muttered, his tone cutting.

…

Ross opened the small curtain that led to her bunk, grabbing the stuffed bunny she couldn’t sleep without just yet. “Look who’s here to save the day,” he said softly, holding the stuffed animal up. “Bunny says you’re the bravest girl he’s ever met.”

She still kept her eyes down, her tears finally spilling over as she buried her face in Ross’s shoulder. “I don’t like when Matty’s mad,” she mumbled.

“I know, love. I know,” Ross murmured, stroking her back. “But he wasn’t mad at you. He’s just having a bad day. Sometimes grown-ups forget to use their big voices when they’re upset. But it’s not your fault, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, her grip tightening.

Ross held her close, his heart aching at the weight of her little worries. “How about we go make some breakfast now? Bunny can come too. How does that sound?”

Her face brightened just a little, the promise of normalcy chasing away some of her sadness. “Okay,” she said again.

“That’s my girl,” Ross said, kissing her forehead once more. He carried her back to the front of the bus, where the others sat in uneasy silence.

Matty looked up, his expression full of remorse. “Maise, I’m…”

“Not now,” Ross cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. He set Maise down on the bench and handed her Bunny. “Let’s get her settled first.”

The room quieted again as Ross focused all his attention on his daughter, his soothing presence filling the tense air. The band could wait. For now, Maise came first.

…

The rest of the day rolls by slowly. Matty and Ross keep their distance. They’re cordial - barely - but Ross is short, and Matty doesn’t push. The unspoken tension weaves itself into the fabric of the tour bus, heavy and palpable.

Maise hadn’t been the same either. She was usually running up and down the halls of whatever new arena they were in, making Ross and the boys chase after her. But today she was quiet, keeping to herself. When Ross sat her down in the green room and told her to stay for a minute, she obeyed. Not even trying to run away or giggling at the thought of the look on her Dad’s face when she disobeys him.

Everyone noticed, especially Matty, and it only made his guilt worsen. Charli tried talking to her. Maise usually liked playing and getting one-on-one time with other girls, but Maise didn’t have any interest.

Not because she was scared, but because she just didn’t want to. She looked… tired. Like the life that once took over the little girl was sucked out of her. She didn’t talk either. She gave small nods to everyone she talked to and said ‘Hi’ like normal, but she was quiet for most of the day, content with playing on her iPad.

When Ross puts Maisie to bed, the silence is starting to feel unbearable. Ross carried her sleeping form back to the bus. She was already upset after being woken up in the dressing room. Ross tried to comfort her by singing some soft tune that carried through the closed door of the bunk room. When Ross emerges moments later, Matty doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t quite know how.

After a few hours, the rest of the band is on the bus and in their respective bunks, except for Matty and Ross. Ross hasn’t taken his eyes off of his laptop, meanwhile Matty keeps looking up at him for what feels like every 5 seconds.

“I think we should talk.” He eventually says.

Ross doesn’t lift his gaze. “We? I think you need to talk to Maise.” Ross says coldly.

Matty sighs before sitting up. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. I was upset, and I took it out on you - and Maisie. That wasn’t fair. None of this is her fault.”  

Ross leans back, his jaw flexing before he says, “No, it’s not. But she’s my kid, Matty. My kid. If you’ve got a problem, you bring it to me. You don’t take it out on her. Not ever.”  

“I know,” Matty says quickly. His voice softens as he adds, “I know. I just- I got in my own head. She wasn’t in the way. I was. And I’m sorry.”  

Ross is about to respond when a small, choked cry cuts through the conversation. Both men freeze. Then, almost in sync, they turn toward the bunk room door.  

Ross is the first to move, pulling back the curtain to find Maisie curled up in the bed, her face red and damp with tears. “What’s wrong, love?” he murmurs, scooping her up into his arms

Her tiny fists clutching at his shirt as she hiccups through her tears. He rubs soothing circles on her back, carrying her to the couch where Matty still sits, looking suddenly out of place.

“Maisie, what’s wrong?” Ross asks again, his voice low and steady.  

She pulls back just enough to look at him, her wide eyes brimming with tears. “Daddy…” she starts, her voice trembling. “Do I make your life messy?”  

The room stills. Matty’s sharp intake of breath breaks the silence, but neither Maisie nor Ross seems to notice.  

Ross blinks, his brow furrowing as he tilts his head. “What? Maisie, what are you talking about?”  

“I make your life messy,” she repeats, with the clarity only a toddler can muster. “And Uncle Matty’s. And Uncle George’s. And Uncle Adam’s. I love you all too much to make you upset. So…” She pauses, fidgeting with the hem of her pajamas, her little lip wobbling. “I’d rather just… get out of the way.”  

Ross’s face crumples. “Maisie, stop that right now,” he says, his voice breaking just a little. “You’re not messy, and you’re definitely not in my way.”  

Matty leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Maisie, look at me.”  

Her big eyes flicker toward him, hesitant and glassy.  

“You listen to me, okay?” Matty says, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “You could never make our lives messy. You’re the best thing about it. All of us - we love having you around. I was upset earlier, but not because of you. You’re not the problem. I was. And I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you were.”  

Maisie blinks at him, her tears slowing, though her little face is still scrunched in thought. “Really?” she asks, her voice small.  

“Really,” Ross says firmly. He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close. “You’re ridiculous for thinking anything else. Got it?”  

Maisie lets out a shaky sigh, burying her face in Ross’s chest. “Got it.” They could hear the grasp for clarity in her voice. She wanted to believe them, but she didn’t just yet.

Ross grabs her chin, tilting it to look at him. “Hey, If you ever feel like that again, you tell us. Okay? No more keeping stuff like that to yourself.”  

Maisie nods against Ross, her voice muffled as she says, “Okay.”  

And though Maisie can’t see it, the boys exchange a look over her head - a silent agreement, a shared guilt - and they know, without saying it, that they’ll do better. For her. 

[viccyfics]

Little oneshot of the second part :)

He'd just been chilling by the food cars watching Dinah work and chatting to Buffy.

"You can't do that here!" A voice snapped in his direction, but Rusty didn't turn, after all he wasn't one to get into trouble (unless Greaseball started it).

"I just told you to stop!"

Rusty finally turned, curious about what who was getting yelled at, but he wasn't expecting the worker to be marching in his direction, pointing straight at him.

"me?"

The coaches turned to stare.

"I'm not doing anything," the Steamer mumbled,his cheeks red with embarrassment "You know ecxactly what you're doing. Smoking and vaping is banned on this side of the hard." The worker glared

Rusty blinked for a moment, looking around to see if he could see Ashley, maybe he had somehow assumed he was the one making the smell of her cigarettes fill the air.

But she was nowhere to be seen.

And neither was the smell of her tobacco.

Glancing down at himself. His firebox was faintly glowing, small wisps of steam puffing out as he cooled from his earlier sprint to get to the coaches.

He hadn’t realized he was still venting. “Oh, no, you’ve got it wrong,” Rusty stuttered, hands raising in defense.

“I’ve seen your type,” the worker interrupted. “Thinking you’re too good for the rules. Well, not on my watch.”

The coaches began to chuckle, embarrassing him even more, why weren't they going to help?

“Seriously, I’m not smoking!”

“Then what’s that?” The worker pointed at the trail of smoke drifting upwards.

Rusty sighed. “It’s... me.”

The worker squinted, clearly unconvinced. “You expect me to believe that?”

Before Rusty could explain, Greaseball rolled up, clearly just turning up to watch Rusty get yelled at.

“What’s going on here? Rusty, you causing trouble again?”

Rusty groaned. “Can you help me out here? They think I’m smoking.”

Greaseball chuckled. “Well, technically, you are.”

“Not helping!”

Greaseball turned to the worker, then back to the embarrassed Steamer.

"He's clearly new around here."

“He’s a steam engine. That smoke’s from his firebox, not some cigarette. No nicotine, no chemicals. Just old-school coal." The Diesel rolled his eyes.

The worker looked between the two of them, clearly skeptical. “Prove it.”

Rusty couldn't help his eyes widening, how did someone start working at the Union Pacific Yard and not know what a Steam Engine looked like?

“Rusty, show him your glow.” Dinah spoke. With a sigh, Rusty opened the small panel on his chest, revealing the gentle flicker of his firebox.

The worker scratched his head, quickly looking around hoping not too many people saw that “Well... uh... I guess that’s not against the rules.”

He hurried back to the building he had been in before, his head hung in shame.

"what was his deal?" a voice came from behind them,the smell of tobacco coming along with it.

"Good luck with the new worker" Rusty groaned turning to face the actual smoker.

"Hey! What did we just talk about! I can smell that!"

Ashley taught rusty how to blow smoke rings it took him ages to control the steam and get it to leave his mouth when he wants it to rather than it happening randomly

(he also got in trouble once in public for smoking...it was just his steam)

[sebmaxrc]

vale giving the first piece of cake of his 300th grand prix to marc,,,

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[street-corner-felines]

Zero Day (2002)

[cheedonanddragonhorse]

Black Star and Jack are both going to stare at him and confusion about Blue Moon. Black muttering that his brother is not named Blue Moon. Just Eclipse. Jack mutter asking if Sun and Moon are even on the family radar, Which Black Star sternly says no.

The two of them watch absolutely lost as bone starts on his random rant. Not able to say too much due to the sheer number of words, And also confusion. They have thoughts here and there. But holy what is this child. Jack will definitely step in and try and head them more towards a direction to help them find his family. But they all just more so learn That they probably will find him eventually. And that most of his family is strange or terrifying.

I'm holding back on so many interruptions, because dear God Blackstar and Jack want some explanations. But they got to get this child home first. Because a dad that hasn't hurt people because he's the last defense. is a terrifying idea. Mostly Black Star questioning how many Eclipse's exist in their world, What type of world develops a blood fruit equivalent, Exactly how many people in their group are children or considered young, And what magics can they actually do. But they're all keeping that to themselves currently.

Blackstar mudders that bone is like a ADHD child. Jack just tries to refocus bone on how does he contact his siblings? Blackstar repeating with certainty again that he is not bones sibling. Repeating with more definition what his family life is. He doesn't have a blue moon as a sibling. He never had somebody named Earth in his life. And he is definitely not related to his sun and moon. His family group is him, his brother Eclipse that came from an arcade machine, and his possible sister Planet. Who is orange and transferred from another facility. Jack placating Black Stars anger by telling bone once more that they are not the same. They don't know what his dad looks like. They don't know what glitter looks like. And while he loves their descriptions of how deadly or not deadly they are. He would love some actual definitions of how they look. Given that he can't exactly call anyone to keep an eye out for his family if they don't know what they look like. Which is what bone came here initially to do right? To hopefully find someone to get his parents and go home?

-

Honestly the idea of chaos wandering around whining and pushing a "baby" button, while nearly trashing the theater and arcade is hilarious. Planet is just barely keeping eclipse from going on a mini rampage about chaos disrupting the theater. And the others in the arcade are just going to be fucking frozen. Like I'm imagining poor, 5 ft tall, Comet, watching as this absolutely massive animatronic emerges from the theater. Honestly planet is going to be screaming for some sort of explanation. They don't have a baby here. And they are not taking eclipse.

I had a dream where Bone met Jack and refused to believe he was Jack. He kept referring to Jack as Fack, fake Jack.

... So. Like bone the Blood Moon? Meeting up with arcade Jack. But like he only knows the other type of Jack. So he's.. hehehehehahahahaha!

Jack of course has a bit more understanding of all this dimensional stuff. And he's slowly starting to learn that one name is not the same in another universe. So he probably just chastised them for comparing him to their Jack. A while also trying to get a good scare as vengeance.

[the-prima-vista]

I'm trying to play through FF16 but it's honestly such a struggle for me. The combat isn't my sort of thing, and I feel like everyone talks at like... half the speed of normal dialogue so I just lose interest in every single cutscene.

[kbwrites]

The Lord's Favorite CH.2

synopsis: "He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury.."

prev ← → next

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x fem! reader, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood and gore

⚝wc: 1.5k

⚝a/n: I'm still shocked this got as much attention as it did! Thank you for reading, I hope this next part pleases you.

“Please, do your best to remain still,” Uraume chides gently. They press the cotton swab soaked in alcohol to your face, the stinging sensation causing you to wince as it penetrates the cuts on your cheek. Uraume offers a sympathetic glance. “I apologize for this…”

“You don’t need to-“

“Please.” They say firmly “I was aware of the tension between the servants, I... never thought they would do something to harm one of their own.” Uraume’s voice wavers slightly. They move to the wounds on your arms.

The door to the chamber swings open, and Sukuna stands in the threshold, leaning one arm nonchalantly against the doorframe. He surveys your battered form sitting on the edge of the bed—a trace of annoyance etched on his face. Uraume rises swiftly to bow before the king, but he dismisses the gesture with a casual wave.

“My lord, I’ve treated her as best as I can.” Uraume reports.

Sukuna’s gaze shifts to your face, his demeanor cold yet betraying a hint of concern.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.. my lord and I’m sorry-“

“You are not at fault.” He interrupts you, his voice firm as he strides over, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room. Clad in a black robe with a purple sash tied around the waist, his rippling muscles are visible through the cascading fabric. Uraume steps back, offering a brief bow before exiting, leaving you alone with him.

He scans your face with a piercing gaze, lowering himself to your level. His eyes drift to your empty wrist, narrowing with a mix of concern and intensity.

“Where. is it.” He demands. Your eyes widen as you realize the bracelet you were given today was missing.

“I… it must have fallen off when they attacked me” You piece together aloud. 

“So they would harm you as well as steal…” Ryomen’s voice grows taut with anger he clenches his fist, body tensing up. He rises from his kneeling position, figure looming over you.

“Are you able to stand?” He questions lowly. You nod.

“Good. We will be going now.”

You look up at your king, his expression is unreadable, but there’s an unmistakable intensity in his eyes—a silent promise of retribution. 

You lag behind him as he strides purposefully down the dimly lit  hallway. The evening light leaks through the dark red curtains of the hall, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. Each step of his echoes with a menacing authority. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the servants quarters. Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Do you wish to watch?” He inquires, voice low and steady.

“W…watch?” 

“Yes, do you wish to watch as I kill the ones who hurt you.”

“I—“ your heart races, Was this really happening? “No… my lord I do not.” You speak quietly. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, opening the door to the room.

The servants look upon him in reverence… or fear. Ryomen Sukuna did not bother himself with his servants, so seeing him generally meant bad news. He scans the room at the trembling help who shrink under his scrutiny, ‘utterly pathetic..’ he thinks. Their eyes drift to you, standing behind him. Ryomen shoots you a sidelong glance, awaiting you to point out your offenders. 

You look up at him, conflicted. Do you really wish for them to die? He scoffs as if reading your mind.

“You would protect them, even after what they did to you?” He sneers.

 He directs his attention back to the line of servants, all bowing their heads in fear. His gaze lands on one woman, and he notices the bracelet on her wrist—identical to the one he had painstakingly crafted for you.

At the sight of the bracelet, his demeanor changes abruptly. His expression darkens with a fierce intensity. With a swift motion, two of his arms encircle you, gently but firmly covering your eyes.

“Do not open them, until the screaming stops.”

Screams of horror reverberate through the room. You hear slashes mingling with the sound of Sukuna chuckling darkly. All the while two of his arms remains protectively around you, shielding you from the brutality he’s inflicting upon the ones who dared to harm you.

The screaming fades, his breathing slows, upper left arm lowers from your eyes.

“It is done.” And as your eyes slowly open, the sight before you is gut-wrenching. Blood and carnage litter the servant’s chambers. You clasp your hand  over your mouth as you fight back a gag. 

Ryomen looks at you, a hint of annoyance for your lack of appreciation. You gaze upon his bloodied form, he was covered in it. He wipes face, turning his back on the lifeless bodies.

“Let’s go; I require a bath and new clothes.”

You sit on the edge of the porcelain tub, adding oils and dried petals. The act of bathing Lord Sukuna had become quite routine. And yet every time he entered the room your heart would skip a beat. He stood at over six feet tall, his four muscular arms and broad, chiseled chest commanding attention. The tattoos that adorned his toned body only added to his already imposing presence.

He strides confidently over to the bath, crimson eyes never leaving yours. The scent of lavender and roses wafting through the tiled room. He lowers himself into the water, groaning as the hot water enveloped his powerful frame.

You grab a sponge, wiping the dried blood from his chest. Ryomen leans his head back against the edge of the tub, sighing in relief under your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of the water sloshing around echoes throughout the room. One eye opens slightly to observe you, your gentle hands erasing the evidence of his carnage. Massaging away his stress and tension. He speaks in a low, commanding voice.

“Join me.”

You abruptly cease your movements, looking at him in disbelief.

“You mean—“

“In the tub, yes.” You hesitate, glancing nervously between him and the water. Knowing it was not wise to disobey your king, you begin to shed your clothing, covering yourself modestly as you allow the bathwater to cloak you. You settle on the opposite side of the tub, his eyebrow quirks in mild annoyance.

“I will not harm you.” His voice almost… gentle.

You move closer to him. Albeit too slow for his taste, one arm pulls you towards his chest, settling on the small of your back. The unprecedented position of intimacy with your lord both thrilling and unsettling.

“Are you… unhappy with my actions today?”

"No… my lord." It was partly true. You were still reeling from the events that had transpired. The king to whom you had dutifully bowed had unleashed his fury... for you? The man you willingly served, had been so enraged by your injuries that he had taken the lives of those who wronged you. He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury..

“Good.” Another hand reaches to stroke your hair, a touch so feather light you wondered if he thought you’d break. “I… do not wish for you to be unhappy.” He speaks softly. His finger traces your jawline. You shiver under his touch, but don’t pull away. If your heart were to beat any faster you feared it might give out altogether.  His hand trails down to your chest, placing his palm flat against the valley between your breasts.

“Your heart is racing…Are you frightened of me?” He questioned, feeling the rhythm quicken beneath his touch.

“F…frightened?” You try to keep your voice from shaking, but it betrays you quivering with uncertainty.

“It is understandable; I could kill you right now.” He grins as his words make your heart beat even faster. “I am merely stating a fact. Do not think of it.” His gaze travels from your face to your chest, lingering at the point where the water begins.

He stands up, water dripping down his body, your gaze travels down his abs to his v-line. He only grins as he sees your curious eyes widen at his lower half. It was quite hard not to look when he was so… big. The screams from his bedroom made sense after you were called to his bath the first time. 

“You are permitted to touch.” He declares, snapping your out of your daze, a shaky hand comes up to feel his abs. He groans softly under your nimble fingers, feeling his muscles tighten in response. He was a work of art, as if the gods themselves sculpted his figure.

You knew that after his bath, Lord Sukuna would typically summon one of his concubines to his chambers. This would inevitably result in several hours of indecorous moans and pained screams, audible through the door connecting your room to his. As his servant, you wanted to adhere to your place, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder... what it would be like to bask in your lord’s presence in such an intimate way.

“My lord, shall I summon someone to… attend to your needs?” 

He only chuckles darkly, one arm reaching down to gentle cup your face. His crimson eyes feasting upon your wet, naked form committing this scene to memory.

“No need,” He murmurs, his voice deep and resonant.

 “I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

taglist! (I know a lot a people in the previous post asked for a part two but idk if that meant you wanted to be tagged, lmk!) @haruchi-slit @gg-trini @pastelbunnelby @cauqhtz @shadava

[screampied]

❝ IF I WAS A RICH GIRL . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. not only do you get your panties back but you get a handsome, suave sugar daddy as a gift. gojo takes you out on a date but the lavish, exquisite food isn’t what he’s exactly hungry for. hint: it’s between your legs. oh, and you.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public themes, toy usage, gojo is a nasty menace, cunnilıngus, implied multiple ōrgasms, praise kink, mentions of brēeding, impact play, size kink, degradation, edging, manhandling.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

“s- ssssatoru,” you hiss. clenching onto your fork, you squeeze your thighs together underneath a velvet red table. it was as if every area of your nerves could barely hold themselves together as they’re continuously being interrupted. interrupted by the sheer vibrations juddering your legs apart. he’s sitting beside you, humming to himself as his eyes skim through the pricey menu. acting as if he doesn’t hear your sweet faint whines, he heard them alright. loud and clear. it’s been a while—ever since that day, you’d have been a fool to not call him from the business card he gave you. accepting his precious offer to be a sugar baby. his sugar baby. and now, you were on a date with him. not just any date though, a date where he brings along a cute new bluetooth vibrator he bought for you. it’s happy new home was located right between your pretty thighs. the setting was powered on level four and you were so so close.

this was bad . . this was really really bad, the immense pressure steadily continues to arise. the bzzzing of the toy rings through your ears to where it gets stuck in your head. everything felt slow, real real slow. the entire five-star restaurant alone was quite loud. blaring with a multitude of conversations from talkative fellow guests. the vibrator makes you whine out a tiny, shrilling squeak, and you squeeze onto his pants leg. “you’re smiling. i know you can hear m- me.”

“huhhh, oh no sweet thing. ‘s just my natural face,” and he’s got a coy grin. he was definitely smiling. “let’s try one more level,” and your legs were just about to give out the moment the buzzing intensifies. so embarrassing, you keep trying to look around, in utter hopes that no one was looking your way. it felt so good, orgasmic even. you’re on your last final hinges of pleasure before he tugs against your ripped fishnets. “hold it, girl,” he directs, planting a kiss against your neck. “don’t finish, at least wait until our food comes. let’s try usin' those manners tonight, yeahh?”

“satoru jus’ let me cum,” you whine, grabbing his wrist. you feel against his g-shock. the cold, metal material making your cute fingertips shiver a bit.

out of amusement— he hums, watching as you try to drag his hand down between your heated thighs.

seeing how desperate you were for more of his beloved touch was adorable. your expanding heat only grows and that’s when you then slouch back against the fat padded restaurant booth. the fabric of your panties felt sticky—almost adhesive like with how it sticks against your mess between your lacey undergarments. just voluntarily glued against your plushed thighs. the toy’s been wavering against your pretty clit for about a good ten minutes. the waiter took you and gojo’s order quite a while ago since then—and those long ten minutes since then felt like long ten hours. “fuck, ‘toru. can’t hold it, pleasepleaseplease.”

“hmmmm,” gojo kneads a thumb against your wrist. his touch alone made you throb more. his touch, you just wanted more of it each time. it was addictive, like a drug, like candy even.

you’re so close to your release that it’s right there. at the very tip of your tongue, you could almost taste it. saliva pours into your mouth as the the inevitable pressure gradually emerges.

as people in the restaurant continue to walk by, you have to try to not be so obvious. you were failing miserably though—anyone could peer a look at you and spot the lewd expressions stretched across your face.

by now, you weren’t really trying to hide it. you were about to make a mess at a public restaurant, and maybe the simple thought of that alone made you pulse with no shame. “aw, y’r squeezin’ my wrist so tight, baby. really wanna make a mess, do ya?” and he leans right up against your neck, giving you a soft kiss. hot breath collides against your collarbone as he gives you a kiss, one simple kiss and you’re just so feral. not a single thought embedded into your mind except you were about to make the biggest nest imaginable. right underneath this table— all thanks to the stupid toy, and stupid satoru gojo, your beloved new sugar daddy. you’re nodding, tiny babbles of whimpers spewing out from your lips before he strums his fingertips against the rotating vibrator. gojo feels against the outer part of it sticking out of you, and he just wants to pull it out, making you cum himself with his tongue. he’s dirty but at least he has some kind of decorum. kind of. “so fuckin’ hot. gettin’ off at a five star restaurant like this, was supposed to be a special night but you just had to be a messy girl today, huh.”

“y- yes, ‘toru, please,” and your breathing hitches the second his frigid cold lips make contact against your skin yet again. if it was anything that could make you so weak, it was gojo’s obscene, sloppy kisses. you craved them like you craved air. “hafta cum, let me finish please. wan’ it so bad.”

with a little teasing sigh he murmurs, “okay fine,” and once he gives you the go ahead, you finally let go. the deafening music reverberating throughout the diner harmonizes over your orgasm— it was a tiny squeal but still. it silenced your own release, but you were still quite loud. you’re slump backward, feeling him turn off the toy from his phone with a simple button and he chuckles. “baby you’re so fuckin’ dramatic,” and he drags a thumb against your now soaked entrance. you’re panting, tummy heaving and heaving as your quaking legs were all sprawled open underneath the table. pried open just for him. “such a wet girl. kinda just wanna get a little taste. my own appetizer before the mea—”

“chilled alaskan king crab legs, two complementary cups of ice and herb roasted chicken—?” a waiter cuts off gojo as he’s flirting with you. with a whip of a head turn, he glances up, a bit annoyed at being interrupted. the waiter with the ordered food in hand stares at the two of you, a short petite male with a eye twitching expression. he gulped, seeing the gojo satoru and decided not to question just why his hand was literally between your thighs. “um, sorry for the delay. here you go.”

“thank you,” gojo cheeses a fake smile—yet as he watches intently as the waiter hands you both the steaming hot plates of lavish cuisine. he pops the same finger that was toying with you right into his mouth. you gaze at gojo, so filthy..

again, no shame at all—a shameless man at best. briefly, he sucks against his finger, savoring the after honeyed taste before smirking. it was as if he preferred your taste rather than the food sitting right in front of him. curling his tongue against his finger, he gives the server a coy nod. “keep the change, man.”

the waiter was stunned to see gojo reaching in his suit, grabbing out a whopping tip amount of four hundred dollars in cash—he stammers, accepting it with a grateful sheepish smile. “ah, t- thank you. please do come again.”

as the server leaves, you’re left with your own body still panting from your most recent teeth shattering release. the food was sizzling, piping hot. with hooded, partly open eyes, you dig your nails into his slacks. “you’re s- so nasty, ‘toru,” and picturing the image of him licking his finger like that . . just a few seconds ago as if it was nothing, you’d lie a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on. at least a little bit anyway. he snickers, planting a kiss against your jawline as you struggle to catch your incoming irregular breaths. “my panties are all soaked now.”

“and. let’s be real—when are you not wet, princess,” he teases, grabbing a napkin to wipe the remnants of drool seeping from the outer corners of your mouth.

gojo’s eyes were so pretty, the more you stare into his elegant, ethereal pupils— the more you wanted him. wanted more of him. swallowing, he grabs the front of your hand before kissing it. the moment his lips press against your hand, you feel your tummy swarm up with butterflies. “and don’t pout. ‘m gonna take them right off ya anyways, c’mon. let’s finish eating. got a surprise for ya back at home.”

at gojo’s mansion, secluded from other buildings to disturb his peace—his surprise for you was nothing more than his tongue.

“i need you so bad, you don’t fuckin’ understand,” he groans, and he’s making sure to take his time with you. his sweet precious time,

you’re in the master bedroom— his bedroom where it was known for having your sweet moans reverberating and bouncing off the walls. as you’re laid on your back, you let off a soft whine once he’s trailing his tongue everywhere down your body. he starts slow, making his way back up to kiss you. strands of delicate snowy strands tickle against your forehead as his lips harshly crash onto yours. you moan, sliding your tongue against his and tasting the leftover taste of what tasted like sweet, sweet tequila. he was still in his suit and tie and you wanted nothing more than to have it off. your hands roam to yank on his tie and he gradually grinds his body against you. “yeah, that’s right. ouch my body, girl. all yours.”

he’s speaking between lewd wet kisses. his voice was deep—his rhythm against your body was so passionate that it was almost carnal. you taste a bit of mint on his tongue also, separate tongues continue to dance and fight against each other all the while he’s left you speechless.

breathless even,

every few seconds he’d have to come up for air, nibbling against your bottom lip coltishly. “don’t be shy,” he whispers, watching as you hesitate to feel against his body. he finds that characteristic about you cute, how you were still shy yet slowly warming up to him. “touch me,” he repeats, his voice a bit more raspy— a bit more needy. so you do, raising your hand and you slip it underneath his dress shirt. as the cottony piece of clothing glides against your skin, he’s still compressing his lips against yours before your fingers start to roam further . . .

as they wander down the older man’s body, you feel his exact build. he was absolutely ripped, even in his early thirties—he could have easily been mistaken as a frat boy. it was no surprise, gojo practically spent his life in the gym. his personal gym anyway. you couldn’t help but take a peak at his buff biceps—only imagining what’d it be like for him to put you in a teasing chokehold.

those arms, that jacked build . .

the more you ponder about him manhandling you, the more you’re so close to making yourself more drenched. as everything progresses, you moan again. his sensual grinding against you gets more quicker and quicker over time. his hardened bulging boner rubs off on you and an arm of yours slings around his broad neck. “mhm,” he groans, feeling the soft centers of your fingertips stroke its way down toward his forbidden happy trail.

it trails and trails,

so pretty, just a beloved white trail of curled hair running down just above the horizontal border of the rest of his pubic hair. it starts near his navel and slides its way further down. a vertical strip of hair that you could never get your hands off of. as you’re still kissing him deeply, teeth gnashing amongst each other before gojo ultimately ulls away.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum jus’ from kissing you,” he lets off a throaty laugh, trying to hide his flustered state. you had him so weak. so weak but he’d never admit that. gojo brings his swollen, dripping lips towards your neck, then your collarbone, all until he goes just a bit lower. “look at this body,” he coos, pausing to take in your beauty right underneath him. “yeah, ‘m gonna take such good care of you, sweets. jus’ lie back ‘n let me love you.”

his words were as smooth as silk— the deep, resonating pitch in it bellows all around the thin walls of his bedroom. the seductively sly baritone of his voice alone makes you pulse. if it was anything gojo had, he had a way with his fucking words. gojo purses his lips, coating your tummy with a plethora of kisses. you struggle to stay still, your expensive dress he bought you a few days ago for this exact occasion now all wrinkled and creases.

but truthfully,

he didn’t care—besides, he’d always buy you another one. his favorite motto. 

as you’re lounged back, he makes you spread your legs. “mwah,” he purrs against your skin, lolling out his tongue just a bit to create a slime wet trail. it goes all the way down until he reaches near your cute navel . . then up to your half ripped panties. they weren’t ripped before the date, but they certainly were now. “you’re so sensitive today. barely did anythin' ‘n you’re squirmin’ from my touch.”

“s- satoru, please,” you whine out a pathetic breath. a hand then grips onto his tangled strands like velcro. tightly, you didn’t let go— at least not yet anyway. his hair was were messy, and that simple detail alone made him ten times more attractive. gojo’s hair as usual was a bit slicked back but still unkempt, especially now due to your gluing grip. fingers of yours massage its way through his scalp and he almost moans. with a pouty expression, you continue to speak. “you’ve been edging me all day. ‘s no fair.”

“thaaaat’s kind of rude,” he chaffs with his white brows contorting into a furrow. “was the toy not enough?” and with a shushed tone, he whistles against your clit— giving it a soft kiss, a thumb peeling down the center. “oh, right.. probably wasn’t, forgot how greedy this pussy is. ‘s my bad.”

your back arches, and you moan once he prods two long fingers inside of you—your warmth envelops around his digits easily before he pulls it out to give it a good three second whiff. “sweet,” gojo slyly says, licking against his fingers. “would have rather ate this instead,” and you moan, watching how his mouth was practically watering from your alluring taste. such a nasty man, the nastiest. gojo leans up to you, tapping against your chin. “ah ah, open that mouth baby, before i eat. don’t wanna hog, wanna make sure ya get a taste too.”

whimpering, you part your lips— sticking out your tongue before his lengthy slender fingers tug its way into your mouth.

immediately, you suck around them, lashes of yours fluttering from your blissful arousal. “m-mhm,” you slip out an inaudible gasp, feeling his free hand grab against your twitching cunt. gojo’s staring at you with the most smug expression before he pulls his digits out, sneaking a wet kiss right on your mouth. as you taste yourself, a messy cobweb string of spit departs from each mouth before he lies you back down. “fuck, hurry ‘toru.”

“now . . baby, don’t rush me,” he teases, and with your back laid against the squishy cushioned mattress, he finally digs in. your knees poke and extend outward and a sweet whine rips out rawly out of your throat. it’s almost guttural, he’s yanking out noises from you that you didn’t even know you could even produce.

once gojo starts— it’s never ending. 

he could eat you out for hours, despite how his jaw would tense and tighten. you’re moaning at the way he starts off with sloppy kisses before just straight up digging in. nose deep within seconds. it swipes against your folds in various circular motions. the rotation of his tongue was brutal— you’re whimpering, maintaining a rough grip against his hair and he chuckles. sucking deeply against your puffy slit. you throb in his mouth, and you’re already squelching. gojo groans, reaching a hand inside of his executive pants to stroke himself off.

your pleasure was his pleasure after all. he wanted to always make that clear.

gojo wasn’t lying about pointing out how hard you made him. a thumb of his runs down the vein that remains on his dick. with his eyes closed, he allows his tongue to wander through every part of your pussy. he knew just where to go. he knew the exact spots to make you scream and whine out for more.

with ease, he locates every orifice— he doesn’t miss anywhere, more so because he can’t afford to. 

gojo loves more than anything to make out with your cunt. his most favorite thing to do was to french kiss against it.

after each obscene mwah after mwah, he even allows his own saliva to help him out— despite how you were already a practical dripping faucet. careless, saturated kisses of his had you throbbing time and time again in his mouth. his head vigorously shakes back and forth, side to side as you’re practically shoving him forward. “eh—easy on the hair, pretty,” he jibes, concisely parting his lips away. gojo stares at his thumb that’s trying to insert its way in. he grows quiet, watching the scene in front of him. within long extended seconds, your pussy’s swallowing the single digit whole and you swear under your breath at how lengthy his fingers were . . even a simple thumb. gojo’s thumb stretched you out so good that you couldn’t even comprehend the feeling in words. not like you could comprehend anything anyway, you were already stupid. all from his tongue, his touch, everything. “god, such a wet girl. the nerve to be walkin’ around this soaked, ‘n she’s quite the talker today too..”

as he’s rambling with a thumb entering in and out of your cunt, he takes a moment to spit on it. it’s shimmery, he blows against it before letting off a flirty whistle. “yeah she fuckin’ is,” he praises your folds. “oooh, bet she’s gonna give me a nice squirt or two later,” and you moan once he brings his chatty lips back towards it. your pool of heat continues to grow before he lays his tongue flat. he was always a man to make a bit of a mess. your heartbeat starts to get so rapid that you heard it’s pulse right through your ears. the firm grip you have on his hair was tight. tangled crumped up fingers combing right through his hair— it makes him a bit hard. the feeling of you dragging him back and forth against his face. you could barely keep your legs open but you didn’t want him to stop. he’s practically slobbering over your pussy before he breaks away, giving you a smug grin. “like when i make out with her more than you?”

“f-fuck, ‘toru,” was all you could mutter out in shaky lips. as he’s relishing his meal between your thighs, gojo spanks your cunt twice. you’re so soaked that a few sloshing droplets hit against his skin. “ngh, you’re teasin’ me. ‘m gonna cum if you k-keep doin’ that.”

sucking passionately against your clit, his tongue flicks against the sensitive nub. that spots has you short circuiting. “nuh uh, good girls cum when they deserve it,” and the tempo of his suckling gets quicker by the mile. you’re about to break, unceremoniously grinding your hips against his mouth so much to where he chortles. as he laughs, hot breath of his fans against your pussy and it only makes you throb ten times more. 

straight convulsions, 

you’re feeling so many sensations languidly twitch against your body all at once that you could barely keep up. everything’s fuzzy so you felt like you were on cloud eight. cloud nine or whatever people call it— honestly, your mind was far too fried to even figure it out. gojo grunts, snapping you back to reality with a soft swat against your folds. “be honest with me, sweets,” gojo slicks his tongue out of your clingy walls, peppering a playful kiss against your soddened, moist folds. “do ya deserve to cum? do ya deserve to be my messy baby? tell me the truth.”

with a cute, exasperated sigh, you sob out a needy cry. “y- yesss, i’ve been good, ‘toru. been good all day,” and his sucking against your clit grows within speed. the very cartilage of his nose against his nose prods against your entrance and you feel like you’re floating. the tip of his nose was all soaked, all because of your cunt continuously scooting up against it. as he’s propped right up between your legs, a hand of his squeezes down on your right thigh before giving it a little bite. your legs, one of his favorite things to gently press his teeth into. as well as your neck, but your legs—they were just a force to be reckoned with. you were a force to be reckoned with. “satoruuuu.”

“sweetheaaaaart,” he mocks your cute dragging of your words, slurping every lewd amount of your primal arousal. you’re so cute, barely bring able to stay still so much to where he’s got to hold you in place. “but you were bein’ a bit of a brat earlier,” he hoarsely utters, rubbing his hard on against the edge of the bed. “teasin’ me, even tried ‘ta stroke me off while we were in the diner,” and with coy eyes, he gives you a cunning smirk. as you pout, he simpers. “aww yeahhh, remember that dontcha?”

continuing to rut your sloppy cunt against his face, he playfully nibbles against your clit — you whine, biting down on your lip before spreading a plump thumb against your folds like jelly.

“dunno if she should be messy just yet,” and he’s such a tease. as he speaks, his eyes avert towards your pussy, clearly wanting you to understand he was talking to her and not you. at least not right now. you could hear the playfulness underneath his tone. your heart’s racing— it’s so intense, your legs were quavering within his hold. struggling to maintain decent breaths, you end up finishing anyway. it hits you so abruptly that it’s rude, all kinds of nerves surge through you and your mouth pries itself open. the only thing escaping out of your sweet dry throat was a desperate, wailing whimper. gojo pauses, bringing a final kiss against your pussy before smearing a thumb against his lips. “the fuck.”

“s- sorry,” you pant, but truth be told—you weren’t. in fact, if he squinted just enough, he could see the little smile trying to stretch itself against your guilty, sheeny lips. you’d only last a few minutes with his tongue, featuring his long fingers, but still. 

first and foremost, your powerful orgasm had you feral, a cooling air suddenly sets down against your skin as your legs tremble before your pussy gets slapped with a mean smack. one turns into two, then three, then four . . 

“f- fuuuck, ‘toru,” you gasp, hearing the wet swats against your cunt. you’re still sensitive, your swollen folds all dampened with nothing but your slick, soaking arousal. so wet, so sloppily wet and only wet just for him.

“we talked ‘bout this, sweets,” gojo grumbles, giving your folds an almost disappointed kiss. “but ‘s like ya never listen, guess y’r pussy needs more training,” and as you’re trying to collect as much gasps of air as you can through your full lungs, he squeezes your cunt with his entire wrist. unzipping his slacks, he leans into you before pulling you into a kiss. the entire spacey room was dim lit, velvety shaded rose petals scattered everywhere onto the crinkled sheets. gojo knew how to set the mood. as he shoves a tongue down your throat, still getting a good grip of your cunt with his palm, he then makes you flop right onto your back. “mch,” he hastily pulls away, a tongue savoring your sweetened lip gloss that smothers itself against your twitching mouth. “can’t look at ya right now. face that way, yeah. face down ‘n ass up. jus’ like i taught ya, pretty.”

with unsteady hands sinking into the bed, you do as he says. a soft whine ferociously snatches out of you once a big hand of his caresses your left ass cheek. his touch, you were always so weak for it. ever since you first met the man, your first encounter which was about approximately almost two weeks ago. you started to get deeply attached, well, at least your body was . . 

as you arch forward, you feel a soft scratchy material plop against your back. gojo doesn’t waste time, tugging down his own brand of boxers with his last name stripped in bold letters near the stretchy hem. grunting, he springs his aroused dick out, aligning himself against your achy, drooling entrance. the feeling of material was just gojo throwing a few wads of cash near your back. “bratty but gorgeous,” he scoffs, feeling you wriggle your ass against him. oh, you were gonna be the death of him. the fifty dollar bills trail and slide down your spine— the view of it was so sexy, he wanted to savor this moment. you’re his favorite girl, he already knew it. a hand of his grips near your hip. “needy ‘lil thing. just gotta move that ass against me,” and as he’s speaking, he gifts your ass with another impolite spank. “ugh, pussy’s to die for.”

“s- satoru, fuck me,” your plea came out of your mouth in such a small tone. it was cute, your knees that dug into the mattress remain to grow shaky and wobbly before nearly giving out. the size difference amused him.

the delicious size of his fat cock was pure bliss. you don’t think you could ever get used to it. every time with him always felt like the first. with two clingy big hands glued to your waist, he’s easing his way in slowly. his fat tip ploddingly opens up the outer sloppy walls of your entrance and you’re so slick for him that you’re already coating gojo from the very base down. growing a bit frustrated that it seems like he’s taking forever, you creep a hand down between your thighs to touch yourself but he only spanks your wrist away.

“girl—please, let’s not touch my pussy today,” he warns slyly, catching your hand with quick reflexes.

you moan, feeling his girth expand throughout your walls. he’s just so fucking big, your mouth stretches itself open and a tiny squeak escapes. “so wet, mhm, listen to how sloppy you get for me,” and you end up falling face forward into the bed. with your ass still up in the air, he’s easily emitting such filthy moans from your throat. your pussy doesn’t take long to constrict around his hefty length. gojo always fits nice and snug inside, you wholeheartedly take him inside, drooling from how your cunt grips around him in such a secure way. just one thrust, a single thrust from gojo and you were already limp. “thereee we go, take it, pretty.”

“i-i’m gonna cum,” you whine, speaking in an almost breathy way. fat callused fingertips of his run down your spine, sending you various shivers before he spanks your bass again. the dollar bills that lay against your back start to fall right off of you from the quick paced movements. “s- sirrrr,” and with another smack, he corrects your sweet tone so you can rephrase and address him the right way. “i— i mean satoru, fuck you’re s’big. ‘m gonna cum again.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic sweetheart,” he purrs in a rich tone, feeling you already start to gape around him. your pussy flutters from his thick entrance, and once he starts up a pace you’re frantic for more. a hand of his wraps around the back of your throat like a necklace before the ruthless drilling eventually starts. the sticking cacophonous pap pap paps against each jerking limb paps was so loud. skin against skin, body against body, you felt your jaw tighten. he’s so precise and rigorous with his sharp hips that it gives you whiplash. you’re never prepared—even if you try to be. gojo knows how to hit every part of your cunt in such a way to make you squeal out in pleasure, in ecstasy. he’s got an upward curve that wanders all inside of your caved love areas. just a few thrusts and you were already salivating. “mhm,” he huffs, hearing the stickiness your cunt sings against his base. already, it’s a wet trail coating around his dick with each time he pulls out before back in. “don’t get lazy on me, pretty. i need to see a better arch. even i can do better than that.”

with a pout at his maddening cockiness, he spanks you again. you arch your back forward a bit more and he coos, “good fuckin’ girl,” and he grabs a nice chunk of your ass. burying your head into the crook of your elbow, it takes him barely any time at all to locate your forbidden g-spot.

once he hits it exactly, the sound that escapes from your lips was adorable—it was a little shriek, it sounded so beatific and harmonious it was as if he was listening to a song. a song he never wanted to end, your sweet voice. “goddamn,” he groans, feeling your ass thwack its way back against him in salacious rapture. oh, but despite that all, he knows you’re nothing but a tease. especially with your movements against him, happily moving your hips in sync with his. you’re fucking back against him and it makes him kiss his teeth. “maybe this ‘s what ya needed all along, wanted ‘ta spoil you today but all you wanted was dick, ‘s that right, sweet thing?”

“n- no,” you lie through your teeth, your own voice muffled with how you’re speaking inside of your elbow. your voice was shaky, trembling on every dragging syllable before the bed starts to get rickety. it creates sound with you both— making its own types of lewd harmonies. gojo’s weight pressing against you makes you throb, you were feeling all kinds of pleasure at once. whimpering once more at how he’s stuffing you full of thickset inches, you try to reach down to touch yourself. 

“don’t play with me,” he catches your wrist again, an almost snicker departing from his lips.

damn, so close.

holding onto your wrist, he notices you squeeze his hand, rubbing a thumb against his fingers. “aw, does the baby wanna hold my hand?” and as you struggle to nod, he gently pins your arm back.“you’re somethin’ e-else.”

his words start to cut off a bit as he’s keeping up a decent tempo—the frame of the king sized bed starts to get jittery. all from the weight and his sloppy hips rigorously pounding into you. the bed’s creaking, it’s almost deafening with how it screeches aloud from the massing pounds of hefty pressure crushing against it. “d-don’t stop, please,” and he’s just fucking you into his pillow. even the satiny rich sheets of his pillows smell like him. his signature musky scent of his gojo satoru cologne.

. . speaking of,

his pillows even have his last name bedazzled on them. literal cursive letters of ‘gojo’ written in blue. if you weren’t so fucked out, you’d roll your eyes. he’s so deep, a hand of his explores the entire curvature of your hips. your curves were one of his favorite parts of your body, he could touch you all day long if he really wanted. the loving warmth that body provided him had him wanting more—yearning for more, more of you. gojo always relishes in how you respond to just a few of his fingers of his dancing against your skin. you were so sensitive and it was a real sight to witness. one of his favorite sights. “fuck, ‘toru. right there, riiight there, fuck.”

as his hips become more sharper, he hits against that same spot that causes a short circuit in your brain. you’re gasping—holding your breath before whining, he’s so thorough. hands of yours slide underneath your barely unclamped bra, fondling against your jerking tits. “good girl, play with y’r nipples for me like that,” and he swats another discourteous spank against your ass. this time it’s harder, it stings for a second and you whimper out from the sudden contact. after he spanks it, he always caresses it, rubbing the soft palm of his hand to make the sudden sting subside. “y’r so fuckin’ hot, pussy’s gonna make me fall for y—”

and he stops his words right at that last bit. your heart flutters— or maybe that was just your pussy, but you were no idiot. you knew what he was gonna say. or maybe you were delusional and misheard what he was saying. 

gojo satoru was a filthy man, he steals out orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing. he was a little older, which meant that he was a bit more experienced.

quite a lot more than you by a long shot, he made you feel ways in where other men never could. couldn’t even come close. maybe that’s why you were so attracted, why you wanted more . . 

a well known businessman, but downright nasty in the sheets. he couldn’t help it, nor did he even really care. gojo had you wrapped around his rich finger, just like how you had him wrapped around yours. 

with him,

the passionate intimacy lasts for many many hours. timeless, numerous until your legs were sore, until you’re just being a cum dump for him. you’re pumped full until it’s leaking out of your cunt. so stuffed, with your panties still lazily pulled to the size, some remnants of his cum coats against it. he’s lost count of how many rounds it was— maybe four, five, or was it eight. 

all you knew was that your legs had been gave out. you were now flat on your back and he’s fucking you in missionary.

beloved, iconic missionary,

the perfect position to stare you right into your eyes. he grows a liking to grab your chin right when you’re about to cum, peeling your bottom lip down, only to then shove a tongue down your throat. speaking between breathy sentences, he groans—rocking his fit body against yours. “kiss me, baby, suck my tongue,” and as he’s swaying back and forth, washboard abs poking through his shirt, your legs lock around his slim waist. a hand of yours slides its way through his dress shirt and tux, feeling against his faint chest hair and washboard abs before you part your lips. you only then start to gradually suck against the tip of his tongue. his heart beats speedily, synchronizing with yours entirely. he’s dizzy, the static that your body produces against him makes his head throw back as he pulls away. glancing up at the ceiling, still presenting your cunt deep solid strokes—he knew you were gonna be a problem. 

his prettiest problem,

perhaps he wasn’t starting to think of you as just his sugar baby, maybe even something more . . but he buried that thought into the very back of his mind. all he really cared about was your pleasure. 

pulling away for a moment, still buried into your sopping wet cunt, he grips your chin. whispering in a weary tone, smiling at you, he sighs. “. . tell me,” and he gifts your wet lips a chaste kiss. “you wanna finish with me, pretty?”

“p- please,” you moan, your legs tightly locking around his waist, never letting go. everything was a mess— the entire room had a balmy aroma of love and passion. the both of you were sweating, beads of sweat coating each body. more so gojo, this was a mere work out for him. although, he was actually used to using his body on a daily, so physical activity never bothered him in the slightest. your stomach continues to seize from his fat length and he inches his mouth toward your neck again. his lips were so soft, gently sucking against your tender skin throughout each intimate moment.

viscous amounts of cum race down your thighs as if it’s some kind of lewd competition. as it’s slowly trickling down between your legs slowly, a hand of his slithers down your shaky limbs to feel it. to make sure it doesn’t go to waste, to make sure it doesn’t spill.

gojo satoru’s cum was priceless—quite literally probably. plugging it back in before you whine. “wanna cum with you, ‘toru.”

“can never say no to you, baby,” he hums, bringing another kiss to your lips. despite his raspy worn out tone—he’s still so gentle with your body in his hands. gojo’s zealous hips slow down a bit before his lips capture against yours again. a hand swiftly wraps around your throat, briskly oscillating back against your body before another hand grabs the headboard. you glance up, spitting the veins poke out through his sleeves that were peeling down. he’s giving you slow, sensual thrusts. “fuuuck . . me,” and his words were delayed by a few seconds. he’s mercilessly grinding against your heat so good to where it becomes sloppy. he’s so close again—he knows that feeling all too well. you didn’t know what to focus on. gojo’s length, the girth that keeps your walls sweetly captive, or his voice but it was all so appetizing. so . . flavorsome.

he couldn’t help but slow down his hips a bit. with a single hand, he reaches down to pull his leaky dick out right before he came. he shot into you already—dozens of times actually, but he felt like being a tease again.

“ugh,” he groans, feeling his base swollen itself up. as you finish on your own, your body transmitting into a shockwave of a wave of rapturing rhapsody he mimics you before a stringy amount of ropes splat right onto your folds. it’s so much, so viscous and goopy that paints the entrance of your cunt to where it’s as if your pussy was a mere canvas for him. “look at thaaaat,” and as he licks his lips, you’re shaking right underneath him. gojo leans in to kiss you and that’s when the bed suddenly jitters. it’s rumbling but he ignores it— bringing you into the nth kiss for the night. “atta girl.” he whispers between kisses.

as you’re leaning into his touch, your anklet erotically rubs down the muscles of his back in such a sensual way. with tongues tangling together in corresponding harmony, the expensive wood on the headboard suddenly breaks. it’s a ear-splitting noise, an almost creak. noticing the noise, you break away from his lips before sheepishly muttering. 

“did the bed just . . break?”

“perhaps,” gojo whispers, but he was totally unfazed. you had him pussy whipped, he didn’t even look tired.

pretty cerulean irises gaze into your all—so pretty that it almost could be mistaken for a solid pigment of green. a jade loving kind of green that you only see in jewels. his intense, needy stare longs into you for a few more seconds before he makes you flip over. you gasp, still feeling his cum ooze out of you from the inside. it was so feverishly warm, sweltering hot with bulks of his sticky seed. all that and you just wanted more, you didn’t care how greedy or needy you came across.

snickering, gojo picks up the money that’s scattered everywhere on the bed only to put them right back on your back where it belongs—

he then sticks a single fifty dollar bill between your lazily stuck-to-the-side panties before letting off a dry laugh.

“let’s not worry about that though. let’s worry ‘bout how ‘m gonna try ‘ta get you pregnant, tonight sweetheart. nowww, let’s practice that arch again one more time, my love. bend over just for me, yeah. atta fuckin’ girl.”

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 bad habit ¡

pairing nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary Nicholas grows a habit of biting you, using every given chance to do it. It starts off platonically, the action playful and teasing, until things eventually took a not so platonic turn, leading to a heated moment between the two of you.

contains nsfw content ! making out, biting, hickeys, and uhh interruptions.

a/n heavily inspired by bad habit!!! likes and reblogs are v much appreciated 🫶

word count 2.2k

It started off on set, when you accidentally made a mistake while filming. You chuckled, apologizing to the director, unaware of the man hovering behind you.

Nicholas’ teeth grazed over your shoulder, the sensation like feathers on your skin. The gesture was so subtle, yet so there, sending shivers down your spine. His breath fanned over your exposed flesh, almost as if he was searching for a reaction out of you.

You brushed it off, thinking Nicholas was being playful; did it for the sake of laughs and giggles, but oh boy, were you wrong. After the incident, it only got worse, with him biting you every chance he gets.

Whether it was your arm, legs, neck, shoulders, stomach, everything he laid his touch on, it was getting marked.

He wasn't afraid to do it, growing amused to the flustered reaction he always got in return. You were guilty for taking an odd liking into it, turning into a mess under his touch whenever he’d bite you.

You didn't dare put an end to it, enjoying it as much as he did. It sparked butterflies in your stomach, mind going blank with every slight touch from him.

Sometimes he would linger, merely to see if it gets a reaction out of you, while other times, it was a passing through, type of thing. Everyone on set knew that by now, smiling and nodding whenever Nicholas did it.

It didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good. The reactions you gave were a mere cover up of your attraction towards it. You felt weak for the ones where he’d kiss the spot afterwards, rubbing a comforting thumb to your skin.

You never knew when to expect it. At times, it would be while you guys were filming, he’d do it because he was embarrassed for messing up his line. While sometimes, it would be in private, when it’s only the two of you.

However, it was strictly platonic. Nicholas made himself clear; sure, he’d flirt with you every now and then, but that was only to mess with you, knowing how easily flustered you were.

That swiftly took a turn, though.

You were currently in Nicholas’ van, practicing your lines for the next scene. The boy made himself comfortable on the couch, admiring as you walked back and forth.

Nick’s giggles erupted through your ears, causing you to perk up. You glimpsed over in his direction, puzzlement washing over your face.

“What?” You questioned, inching closer to the brunet.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, glancing up at you now that you were towering over him.

“Oh.” Your lips formed into a pout, grumbling before returning your attention back to the script. “Okay.”

You moved away, yelping when you got yanked back to your position, impossibly closer now. Your gaze shifted to Nicholas’ arms, observing as he sneaked them around your waist, embracing you in a hug.

“What’s gotten into you?” You snickered, feeling his breath fan over the sliver of skin around your stomach.

“You’re so warm.” He whispered, one of his hands trailing down to your hip.

You tensed, sensing a change in his tone. It was extremely rare for Nicholas to get this clingy, unless he was tired. From what you’ve seen thus far, that was totally not the case.

Nicholas nuzzled into your stomach, a satisfied hum escaping his throat. You snorted, reading over your lines while you let him do his thing.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your top, causing you to freeze in your spot. That was… new. You don't recall him ever doing that, not even when you’re both messing around.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear.

He stuck to humming, letting his fingers trail further underneath your shirt. You almost gasped at the sensation, lips parting to exhale instead. The script in your hand was long forgotten now, as you tossed it on the couch next to Nicholas.

“Nick.” You whispered, hesitating before your hands found their way around his shoulder.

“You know…” he trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head back, merely to catch sight of you. “You’re really pretty.”

“Thank you.” You replied, teasing visible in your voice. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, his nails digging into your side.

You audibly gasped at the action, the idea of your hips bruising due to Nicholas’ touch driving you over the edge. One of your hands trailed to the back of his neck, the tip of your fingers toying with his hair.

He inched his face closer to your stomach, all that while maintaining eye contact with you. He mouthed at your skin, touch lingering as he waited for a reaction out of you.

Your lips parted with pleasure, jolting when you felt his teeth grazing over your stomach, biting you before you knew it.

There it was, the tingling sensation it striked through your body. You shuddered under his touch, feeling your knees grow weak. A moan escaped your throat when he repeated the action, accidentally tugging his hair in the process.

Nick groaned in response, eyes forcing shut at the sensation. Pleasure fell upon his face, squeezing anything he could lay his hands on.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, littering kisses to your stomach. “Has anyone ever told you how breathtaking you are?”

You moaned at the statement, arching your back into the touch. Nick’s hand trailed down to your ass, giving it a squeeze through the fabric of your shorts.

You forced your eyes shut at the action, unable to control the moan escaping your throat. You were a flustered mess under his touch, wincing whenever he nibbled too hard on your skin.

The thought of getting marked by Nicholas drove you mental, it has your mind hazing up, leaving you wanting more.

“I–” you stammed, hushed words filling the air. “What about filmin’?”

“We have time.” He muttered, pulling you down by your sides.

Your body collided with Nick’s as you fell into his lap. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable in the process. Nicholas groaned in your ear, throwing his head back when you accidently brushed over his crotch.

Your face heated, feeling his hardon through the thin fabric of clothes. You awkwardly hovered over his lap, unaware of your next move.

Fuck, Nicholas was hard, and it was because of you. Your mind went fuzzy all over, head filling with a million questions, yet none at the same time.

Nicholas pushed you down, not hesitating to collide your lips in a kiss. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, the action seeping tension through the air.

He leisurely pulled back, pulling at your lip with his teeth, nibbling on it before he moved away. Your mouth remained parted, letting your forehead rest against his.

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He whispered, stealing a kiss from the corner of your lips. “Fuck, you're so…”

You couldn't control your hips as you grinded down, a hiss erupting through your ears in the process. You felt Nicholas twitch through his pants, the gesture a great impact on him.

He looked out of it. His eyes hazed up, barely able to hold contact with yours as he fluttered them shut.

“You’re so fucking pretty, doll.” He praised, voice muffled as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “I'm obsessed with you, everythin’ about you drives me mental.”

“Nick.” You said through a breath, voice slightly shaky.

An audible gasp escaped your throat as he slipped a hand underneath your shirt, fingers instantly finding your chest. He gave your boob a squeeze, while he traced open mouthed kisses to the other one through the fabric of your shirt.

You leaned your head back, grinding down as a whine muffled its way out of your mouth. Nick was incredible with his mouth, he knew exactly how to please a woman, and how to make her feral in all the right places.

You felt heat release from your body, the room growing hot with every move you committed to. This was all you’ve ever wanted. You wanted to get a taste of Nicholas so bad, so fucking bad it was starting to get a bit concerning.

And with the whole biting thing? Yeah, that was your last straw.

You yelped when his teeth grazed over your nipple, the action causing goosebumps to breakout across your chest. You attempted to pull away from the touch, quickly interrupted by the hand on your back as it brought you closer, if that was even possible.

The distance between you guys was extinct now, the only thing blocking you being the thin layers of clothes.

“I need you…” Nick groaned, nipping at your skin.

He buried his face in your neck, his heavy breaths the only thing seeping through the silent void. His tone was so suggestive, needy, keen and in need of you. How’s one able to resist when someone as desperate as Nicholas exists?

“I’m all yours.” You licked your lips, cupping Nicholas’ face.

You withdrew his face from your neck, breath hitching when you caught sight of how much of a mess he was. In fact, he might’ve been more affected than you were.

You connected your lips in another kiss, tilting your head to get a better angle of his mouth. A satisfied hum erupted through your ears, causing you to smile through the kiss.

Nicholas toyed with the strap of your top, pushing it down your arm, followed with the other one eventually after. The action peaked interest through your chest, causing you to pull back with amusement.

“Here?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, “I’ll be quick.”

He nipped and sucked at your neck, finger tugging down your top, exposing your chest to the air. You shivered, hissing when Nicholas grazed his teeth over the flesh, trailing his mouth all the way down to your breasts.

His mouth salivated at the sight, pausing to admire how perfect your boobs were. His gaze shifted back to you, as you stared at him with a shy smile across your lips.

“I didn't think you could get any perfect.” He pecked your mouth, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You’ve seen nothing.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You applied pressure around the back of his head, pushing him down on your chest. Nicholas accepted with content, gliding his tongue over your now hard nipple.

You nipped at his hair, arching into the touch. It felt amazing, hot spit coating your cold skin. It was absolutely heavenly, no words could describe it.

He kneaded your other boob with his hand, the sensation spiraling you over the edge.

He traced open mouth kisses to your collarbones, sucking on the bony flesh around your shoulder.

“Nick…” you muttered through a gasp, “That will leave a mark.”

“Good.” He exhaled through his mouth, tone cocky. “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

“My god.” You mumbled, voice barely audible.

You pushed him back on the couch, already missing the warmth of his tongue on your body. He chased after your touch, earning a chuckle out of you as your hand covered his mouth.

“Stay.” You ordered, voice seductive.

You teasingly toyed with the hem of your shirt, leisurely tucking it up to reveal the whole of your stomach. The fabric pooled just beneath your chest, creating a thick material.

However, that was long forgotten as you tugged it over your head, getting it off your body. And Nicholas couldn't help but groan as he moved forward, laying his touch wherever his hands landed.

Your fingers found their way around his shirt, delicately unbuttoning it until it revealed his whole chest. Your mouth watered at the sight, removing the shirt with a bit of help from the boy.

Your digits traced over the lines of his abs, gulping when you noticed how muscular he was beneath all the clothes he wore. His eyes followed your hand as it came to a halt around his pants, fingers teasingly fidgeting with the button.

“Get it off of me already.” He hissed, thrusting up into you.

The collision made you gasp, his hardon brushing against your ass. Your fingers dug into his skin, grinding down on him to chase after your pleasure.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed under his breath, mouth gaping with desire.

You clumsily unbuttoned his pants, freezing in your spot when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widened in shock, attention shifting back to Nicholas, who was just as shocked as you were.

The crew member called out your name, causing you to perk up. “You’re up in five minutes, make sure you’re ready.”

Right, you guys were on set.

You were swift to get up, throwing your shirt over your head. You stole a glimpse at Nicholas, who hopelessly stared at you, disappointment visible on his face.

You smiled, endeared by how sulky he was, as he looked adorable while doing it. You moved over, ruffling your hair into place before you connected your lips with his.

Although he was upset, he happily returned the gesture, chasing after your lips when you moved away.

“Sorry about that.” Your gaze shifted down to his lap, noticing the hardon in his pants. “I’ll help you out later.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, no longer sulky. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Mhm, you definitely should.”