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sutorus · 11 months

Text

HEART SHAKER

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

WC: ~1k

WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.

A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL

“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”

you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks.

you pump harder.

“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”

you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs.

“can you stop? i lost count!”

satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back.

you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin.

you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply.

“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”

you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results.

satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly.

“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”

“resident,” you correct him.

you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him.

of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was.

it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient.

“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer.

“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore.

satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”

you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg.

you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again.

“turn infinity off.”

“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”

“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”

he won’t.

“wanna play doctor?”

you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities.

grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.

he complained about a migraine to shoko.

it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times.

“how’s your head?” you ask him.

“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”

a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two.

“satoru, please.”

“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”

“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping.

satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two.

“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”

at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on.

you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out.

“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”

“hmm?”

you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face.

“why is your heart beating so fast?”

at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush.

“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“

“it’s hard, alright—“

“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you.

“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”

“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”

you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.

he hums contentedly when you pull away.

“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”

you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.

“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”

he coos.

“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”

despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.

“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”

satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.

“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.

“no problem. now shoo.”

you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.

“ah, but i was wondering—“

“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.

“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“

“out!”

he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.

you take a deep breath.

you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.

#✩.petra.doc #✩.gojo #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru au #why is tagging so embarrassing like bye #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

Text

Anything III (König x Reader)

Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

Requested by: Literally fucking everyone.

A/N: I was really fighting for my life with this chapter y'all. It's more to set up for the next coming chapters.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic language, graphic description of PTSD, graphic violence, graphic description of gun violence, graphic description of injury.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"That fucker needs to go."

"He's not going anywhere, Simon."

The Lieutenant spun on his heel, reeling on Price with startling speed. He didn’t budge, though. Not when Ghost stopped only inches away and not when a finger rested on his chest- a warning. A threat.

“Birdy’s my responsibility,” his voice was dangerously low and the Captain’s eyes narrowed.

“And you’re all my responsibility,” Price’s words were slow and enunciated, spoken through gritted teeth. The heat rolling off his body was tangible, he was fucking furious. He was torn. “You think this was my fucking idea? I get orders from up top just like you do, Riley. They got their own plans in mind.”

Ghost inhaled sharply, dropping his hand to his side. Up top. If the rank has been anything, it’s been consistently shit.

“When someone tears their own fuckin’ face-off, the plan needs to change,” Simon murmured, the images of the incident drifting across his vision. The man was no stranger to intrusive thoughts but these were particularly vivid, they splattered across the carefully cleaned plains of his mind- taunting him.

“I know.” Price lit a cigar, his gaze trailing across the rooftops. “Been working on it.”

“And?”

“Baby steps, Simon. Baby steps.”

_________

Inhale, exhale. Again.

Bang

Then again.

Bang

And again.

Bang

One, two, three, the hole never widened; not even by a millimetre. The target stood strong and unwavering, and you were doused in hot anger. You’d selected the biggest one you could find, it wasn’t as tall as you wanted, but you supposed the chances of finding a nearly seven foot soldier on the battlefield were slim.

You were grateful that the one thing that hadn’t changed over the recent horrors of your life, was your aim. You were still a sniper.

Bang

You were still the best.

“We got another unit comin’ in for their assessments, Birdy.” The range supervisor’s voice was loud over the speaker and you forced yourself not to jump. “You gotta clear out or pick another lane, mate.”

Your eyes trailed over the aisles beside you. The rear of their booths were all open, designed for trainees to have an instructor standing over them. Those days of needing direction were over, as were the days of leaving your back vulnerable.

The lane you had chosen was at the very end of the range, a locked booth designed for soldier’s shooting assessments. It was a bi-annual event, where your marksmanship was tested in order to deem you competent and qualified. No instructor, no target indications, just you in a locked booth with a rifle and a target.

Now, it was the only place you felt safe enough to shoot.

You heaved your body up, clearing your weapon before slinging it over your shoulder. It seemed that your time was up.

As you stepped out of your haven and into the aisle, you tried to settle the anxiety in your chest. It was a burdensome feeling that only faded when you were looking down the sight of your rifle, plaguing your every move and every thought. It was all-consuming.

A shot rang a few lanes ahead and you flicked your gaze up to the screen as you walked. They were half a centimetre or so off from the central aiming mark but the next shot was dead on. You snorted.

As you moved to pass, you spared a curious glance at the shooter.

Your body locked up.

Right in front of you, lying on his stomach with those long legs sprawled out, was König.

You seethed. You were suddenly overcome by a rage that, for once, did not wash over you with a flush of heat. Instead, you were cold. Ice trickled the length of your spine and your fingers went numb, pins and needles pricking at your nails.

Your face stung at the sight of him.

He was the reason you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror anymore, he was the reason you looked like a fucking abomination. Your face was deformed and mutilated and here this fucker lay, his back turned to the world because he was not the one that got destroyed.

König ruined you and got away unscathed.

You waited for him to take another shot, using the cover of the resounding gunfire to put down your rifle. He had no idea that you were there, he was entirely unsuspecting. He was vulnerable.

Before you could comprehend what you were doing, your body had moved to stand over his prone figure. You could hear his breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest.

In, bang, out.

They had chosen this fucking imbecile to replace you? He couldn’t even breathe right, everything was wrong. His form was wrong, his breathing pattern was wrong, his shooting was wrong, and he was not built to be a sniper. He was built to destroy with his hands, with no finesse, no pinpoint accuracy- just a bludgeon.

There was no honour in what König was.

Again, your face stung beneath the gauze. A reminder. Encouragement.

You reached for the Glock strapped to your belt, cold sweat trickling down your neck. König took a breath in and you flicked open the buckle. But he didn’t take a shot as you had predicted, and he’d heard the noise from above him.

When König turned, you let him see you, just as he’d given you that mercy.

Then you struck.

Unlike before, König hadn’t been given the chance to kick the weapon from your hands before you descended upon him. A startled rasp ripped from his mouth as you dropped onto his body, bringing the butt of your firearm to strike his temple.

His head knocked back, bouncing off the mat beneath him.

How merciful, that it was not concrete? How gracious, that you didn’t grab his head and crush it?

König groaned, his hands flying up to defend himself, stunned by the sudden impact. You knew that his vision would be spinning, a loud buzz ringing in his ears. You knew too well.

But it wasn’t enough.

You pushed his hands away, bringing the gun down again. You felt his skin render from beneath the metal, a wet thud echoing through the booth as you split the skin of his cheek. The blood made your eyes widen. It wasn’t enough.

You would give him your scars. You would peel his skin from his bone. You would shatter him until he was unrecognisable.

This wasn’t enough.

König’s eyes flickered open, hard and betrayed.

You knew that the element of surprise had run out, but you were not finished. You’d just gotten started, the purple of his cheek and the red dripping down his temple only marked the beginning. But you couldn’t overpower the man below you.

When his hands gripped your biceps and he opened his mouth to yell, you pushed the barrel of your handgun past his lips until his teeth scraped the steel.

Everything fell still, his hands frozen on your body and his eyes wide. You hoped that he could taste the gunpowder, you hoped that he could taste his death. The sound of the safety flicking off resounded in the booth and the man beneath you flinched.

His fingers shook against your skin, his breath rattling in his chest.

König was afraid.

And at that realization, for the first time in over a year, a genuine smile twisted your lips. The soldier’s eyes widened, his body twitching beneath yours, groaning around the barrel in his mouth.

“How do you like it?” You whispered, the words a snarl as you leaned down close.

König’s emerald gaze was steady on yours and you could visibly see him attempt to calm his breathing. In, out, in, out. He was breathing wrong, everything was still just wrong, wrong, wrong. You pressed harder on the gun.

This wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t bruised enough, he wasn’t bleeding enough. You moved your left hand to cup his cheek and his eyes flickered. König wanted to buck you off, he wanted to disable you, maybe he even wanted to murder you. You hoped he did, you wanted to see the same hatred in his eyes that you saw that damned fucking night.

You wanted him to look into your soul and know that you were going to ruin him.

That you were going to kill him.

“You feel guilty?” You hissed, your fingers slowly digging into the skin of his cheek. “You feel bad for what you did?”

König’s eyes softened.

Don’t want your pity.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

Finally, he hummed his affirmation around the barrel in his mouth. Your nails dug into the flesh of his face, dragging a jagged scratch inch by inch across his features. The man didn’t flinch, he didn’t move, and he didn’t make a sound- he only watched you.

When you leaned in to brush your lips against his ear, he knew what was coming.

Satisfaction flooded your senses, righteous anger gripping you by the throat and forcing the words that you’ve wanted to say for so long from your lips.

“Your fight is finished.”

König took in a sharp breath.

You pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening and for a sweet, beautiful moment, you felt vindication. You’d won. You’d bested him. The man that had ruined your life had gotten what he deserved and he needed to die, die, die. That was the only thing that would settle his debt, the only thing that would serve the justice you felt owed.

With the simplest pull of the trigger, you had been avenged.

Then, you realised that the blood that had sprayed aross the space between your bodies wasn’t his. It was yours.

König was on top of you. The gun was gone, his mask was on, and your face was crushed. You couldn’t breathe you couldn’t think and the only thing you could feel was the searing pain of the knife twisting in your chest.

No, no, no, no.

This was wrong, this wasn’t what was meant to happen. Why were you back here? His hand was on your face before you could protest and you felt your head lift from the ground.

“Even in victory, you are nothing.”

Crack

“You will always be nothing.”

Crack

You were screaming, you could hear yourself doing it but your mouth wasn’t moving. Your teeth were caved in, your jaw had collapsed, you felt as though your face had melted from the bone. Yet you could hear the shrieks, hear the wailing.

The back of your head was wet, your skull felt like it was falling apart at the seams. The breeze tickled against your brain and your nerves were on fire.

You were broken, broken, broken.

“Birdy!”

This time you could feel every crack of your head into the concrete. This time you felt your brain matter smear across the floor.

“Wake up!”

Wake up.

You sat up with the gasp of someone who’d been drowning, clawing at your throat for air. Sweat trickled down your spine, the room was hot and the blankets were tangled between your legs but you were in your bedroom- you recognised it instantly.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” a rough voice murmured from beside you. There was a hand pressed flat against your chest, firm and grounding. “Breathe.”

“Simon,” you sobbed. The man hummed in response, his other hand rubbing your back with enough force to rock your body. He was trying to keep you rooted in reality, give you something physical, something tangible to hold on to.

“I’m losing my mind,” you gasped, your chest caving at the realisation. You didn’t know what was real or not, fact or fiction, tangible or imaginary- you lived on a plain of uncertainty. You were lost, you were broken and you were unreliable.

Price was right. You had become a liability.

“You’re late to the party,” Simon loosed a soft chuckle, pulling you close against his body. “I lost mine years ago, kid.”

You relished in his touch as you tried to regroup. You were in your room, you were in your bed, it was the middle of the night and you’d had a nightmare. Your clothes were soaked, sticking to your skin uncomfortably; and you had the horrid realization that maybe it wasn’t all sweat. You sucked in a breath, scrambling to push the blankets from your body.

“What-”

You ignored anything that the Lieutenant might of said, scrubbing your hands over your limbs, neck and face. The sweat threw you off and you checked your fingers in the dim light for crimson stains. You couldn’t deal with it again, you couldn’t cope with more damage. You were already disgusting, you were already mutilated and scarred. Unloveable, untouchable, irreparable, irevevocable, irremediable-

No more, no more, no more no more no more-

Simon gripped your hands, tugging them towards his chest and jerking your body forward. You dragged in a sharp breath, eyes wide and frantic.

“You didn’t hurt yourself,” the words were urgent and low, his gaze holding you still just as well as his grip. “You’re alright, Birdy.”

You took in a rattling breath and his grip tightened.

“You’re alright, kid,” Simon reinforced, that ocean gaze compelling you to calm your heart rate. He left no room for discussion with the way that he looked at you, there was no option to disobey. You pushed air into your lungs, following the pattern he’d set for you. “It was just a nightmare.”

You frowned. “Only at the very end.”

Not when you had been shooting, not when you’d been atop of your enemy with a gun in his mouth; that was not the nightmare. You’d felt vindicated, you’d felt insane but satisfied. During those moments in the dream, you were not afraid of König. You were not shaking, you were not whimpering or begging for your life.

You were strong.

Stronger than him.

“How’d you know I was–” You cleared your throat. “How’d you get in here?”

The silence that followed had you on edge, as Simon’s hand worked methodically across your back. He didn’t answer for a long while and your thoughts began to sober. Why was he in your room? How had he gotten there? How did he know you were having a night terror? His quarters were nowhere near yours, he was in the hallway over, divided by thick concrete walls; he most definitely couldn’t have heard your screams.

“Someone tipped me off,” the words were spoken through clenched teeth and his minsitrations against your back faltered. Your chest tightened at the implication. “They thought I’d be better suited to come help you.”

“How-”

“He’s down the hall, Birdy.” Simon interrupted and you could feel his fingers curl into a fist against your spine. “Everyone in this fuckin’ corridor could hear you.”

Your breathing began to pick up and heat flushed against your skin, the blood boiling from beneath the surface.

“That doesn’t explain how you got in,” you rasped, gripping the blankets at your side. You needed to ground yourself, you needed to be calm.

“He thought you were being attacked or somethin’ with the way you were yellin’,” Simon sighed. It wasn’t a direct answer but it was a good enough indication as to what had happened.

You let your gaze drift to the door, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight before you. The hinges had been ripped from the wall, the frame torn straight from the brick. The door itself was missing completely, and as you slowly leaned over to get a look at the floor, your heart dropped to your stomach.

Your bedroom door lay in pieces, the splintered remnants splayed across the floor like shattered glass.

NEXT CHAPTER

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tired-biscuit · 8 months

Text

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: hybrids, predator/prey dynamic, mounting, sort of dubcon-ish, a hint of somnophilia, breeding, established relationship.

wc: 1.6k

fox hybrid!naruto is as playful as much as he is sneaky.

he follows you around the apartment; curiously peeking from behind the corners, watching your every move not because he’s skittish, but rather because he wants to learn how you behave when you think he’s not around.

he does it quite often for some reason. perhaps it’s the wild of the predator that’s coursing his blood or the naive wonder that’s just signature for his personality, who knows, but if you catch him by any chance — and you do, he isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is — he immediately comes over, wraps his arms around you from behind and makes sure to comfort you and nip your cheek or bottom lip with his sharp fangs after every kiss he gifts you in apology.

still, he continues his watch. he learns your patterns over time despite the fact that he has a habit of tripping over his own two feet and blowing his cover with all the noise it causes. he learns the way you move, the little quirks that you exhibit, the timing of them. he learns them all as a safety precaution which he doesn’t really need if you think about it.

after all, he could slam into you full force as a means to take over and could simply make you submit to his predatory instinct just like a couple of his apex predator friends had done with their own mates in the past. he’s well aware that he’d win if he did it that way; he’s no wolf or bear, but he’s still stronger and armored with a far bigger set of teeth than the one that currently sits in your mouth.

however, the problem is that you’re sneaky too.

you’re a tough little thing to grasp — hard to impress, even worse to court. are practically made to slip between a person’s fingers if they were to try and squeeze you into their fist without asking for permission to do so first. on top of all that, you being a cat hybrid amongst all the other possibilities available doesn’t help his situation either; it makes you exceptionally perceptive and equally as hard to dominate because of it. so troublesome!

and that’s not all there is to it. even your eyesight is spectacular, as is your awareness of your surroundings. the triangle-shaped ears that sit atop your head twitch and constantly angle in the direction of the smallest movement he makes. and naruto knows that they do, that they listen and assess the danger. he’s tested it out so many times during the course of your relationship.

the first step he takes towards you whenever your back is turned in his direction is also usually his last because of how fast you are to turn around to face him in mere seconds, rigid body language exhibiting high alert. he’s never even gotten the chance to fully sneak up on you yet, much less tackle you into a play fight.

this entire thing would be so much easier if you were a bunny. he’d push and you’d take it like a good little rabbit, the end. everyone knows that bunny hybrids practically throw themselves before the jaws of a predator and spread their strong legs just as willfully the moment their first heat comes into play.

but naruto, even whilst itching to conquer you because of the beast within, kind of digs the challenge a moody little kitty such as yourself brings to the table. especially when the effort that he’s put into all this preying finally manages to pay off.

actually, it enables him to catch you when you’re least expecting it — during your afternoon nap.

your feline behaviour really shines at its brightest when you doze off. instinctively drawn to warmth, he’s since learned that you always fall asleep in the patch of sunlight that spills through the window and onto the couch across the room when the days are clear and the curtains are pushed to the side. always in the same position, too. on your tummy, with your limbs relaxed and stretchy; tail swishing from side to side ever so slightly before going completely still. just like now.

oh shit, there it is; the sign he’s been waiting for!

your tail has stopped moving so that means you’re completely out for the next half hour, perhaps even more. he watches from a safe distance just to make sure, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room and straining his fox ears as hard as he’s possibly able as a means to catch every sound.

thud, thud, thud. your heartbeat is calm, as is your breathing. you’re at ease while you sleep, he can not only hear it but see it too. open and vulnerable and trusting, allowing yourself to be caught completely off guard. you could almost pass as docile, the way you look right now, but he knows better — he’s been with you for long enough to know.

so he takes one step forward, slowly. toes, heel. nothing happens.

he takes another. all is well.

and then all of a sudden, before your heavy eyelids can get the chance to crack open at the sound of fast-approaching footsteps, and before you can come back to from the depths of the cozy catnap you were so pleasantly indulging in, naruto at long last makes his move.

your sweet fox boyfriend pins you down with his weight as he lays on top of you; he squeezes you flat against the couch until your cheek is pressing into its soft cushions. he’s warm and shirtless and his skin smells like the summery shower gel he must have washed himself with earlier, but he doesn’t seem to be scared of your claws that might come in contact with him, promising pain.

even his hair is still damp. a small droplet of water lands on your cheek when you try to turn your head to the side to look at him.

you hiss at him with prominent annoyance when it slides down the edge of your jaw, the action a subtle warning that clearly tells him to stop this nonsense right now, but he’s been expecting that, too. so he works quickly to try and tame you into submission, allowing instinct to take charge because it’s the only safe bet he has.

you’re surprised how easily he works his way around you and it’s entirely your fault. he doesn’t show how strong he actually is underneath all the shy caresses that he gives you and the nice grins and it makes you forget, giving you a false sense of authority that quickly diminishes when you’re the one experiencing that raw power on your own body.

so it’s no wonder that you stand no chance while he manhandles you and keeps you caged underneath him. that you feel utterly helpless while he drags your comfortable little shorts down your legs with zero problem; until they’re hanging off one ankle right along with your panties.

he frees his cock, fists it a couple of times with the help of some drool before he mounts you then, breathing hard and still making sure to avoid the claws you’re bound to sink into him the second he releases your wrists. he’s holding them both with just one hand, seemingly mocking your incompetency even further, albeit completely unintentionally.

and it’s true; he doesn’t mean it. naruto has never been mean-spirited like that despite the whole predator aspect that lives and roars beneath his gorgeous tan skin.

but foxes can be tricky.

so he holds his grip and they dig into the couch instead, your claws. they get caught in the blanket that you’re both sweating on top of now as his hips rut into you and yours follow the deep, almost animalistic rhythm even though your anger and pride tell you to stop, stop, fucking stop obeying him.

but you can’t stop, you’re forced to submit because he’s a bigger threat than you are; it’s just how your brain is wired. you bend to survive. it’s exactly like that situation with the scrawny mouse girl who you used to tease and endlessly make fun of back in high school.

how does it feel to be on the prey side, little kitty?

you’re unsure how to feel about this entire thing, it might be because your mind has slipped into a certain kind of haze. he fucks you like he’s never fucked you before and a prolonged mewl that you can’t hold back leaves your lips when his teeth sink into the crook of your neck all of a sudden, marking you.

the strap of your tank top is hanging off your shoulder, exposing you further, and his hot, greedy mouth follows the naked skin without a second thought, just biting, licking, sucking. marking.

he’s growling and snarling into your ear every time he slams into you, sounding like the exact opposite of himself. you’re no better either; you keep making so much noise that you’re ashamed of yourself. moaning and whining, squirming and thrashing underneath him. by the time he fills you up with his seed, you’ll probably start to purr.

just the thought alone makes you feral. the sudden urge to be bred and bear his children plagues your mind like the deadliest storm. imagining your pussy leaking his warm cum is simply too good while stuck in a lowly position such as this one.

his cock is throbbing inside you as he pounds into your slick cunt, trying to push its way into your fucking womb. he’s big and heavy, hot in your tummy and hard to fit. the adrenaline that he’s getting because of the complete control he now has over you is surely exciting him enough to make him see god.

he probably won’t see god, though.

oh no, you’ll make sure to drag this wicked fox into the very depths of hell the second his knot stops swelling and he releases you from his iron-like grip.

#i had to get this outta my system cos it’s been eating me alive fjdjdjhd #naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #biscuit drabbles #cw hybrids #cw dubcon #cw somnophilia #cw breeding

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cloudzoro · 7 months

Text

Painkiller | Roronoa Zoro ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: comfort, smut (minors dni)

pairings: roronoa zoro x fem reader

wc: 1.6k (short and sweet)

cw: established relationship, comfort sex, cunnilingus, squirting, spitting, dacryphilia, unpredicted sex, size kink, soft sex, soft!dom zoro, he's slightly ooc in this one :/ but soft comfort sex with zoro :)

♡ masterlist ♡

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You don't mean to hold your emotions back; you know it's terrible for you, but you can't help it. The thought of opening up makes you want to vomit. It frustrates you to no end that you've ended up with the most emotionally intelligent and observant group of friends you could have. Since you woke up in the morning, you've been asked over and over again what's wrong.

The real question is, what isn't wrong

The limits of your stress levels are being tested to the fullest. You've been losing concentration during training and workouts, the plans you make keep going wrong, you mess up during a fight and almost got Zoro killed, and you've had to play referee during an argument between Nami and Usopp. What was once just minor irritation is slowly building up to something much more destructive. It's starting to show both in your face and body language. Despite everyone's insistence that you tell them what's wrong, your boyfriend Zoro understands you better. He knows that you're agitated, but instead of pushing you to open up, he knows how to help you.

Zoro notices the way your hands shake as you pick at the food Sanji has made you. Sanji only takes it slightly personally when you don't finish the meal. He can tell there's something deeper going on. Zoro follows you out of the dining hall and into your room. He doesn't speak, and you don't acknowledge him until you're both sitting on the bed. He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. He quietly holds you as you cry into the crook of his neck. His palms apply comforting pressure to your hips and he rubs his thumbs over your skin. He doesn't ask the reason for your tears; he's been around you all week and seen all the problems. You calm yourself down and shift on his lap. Though you've calmed down, thoughts still cloud your head, and there's only one method guaranteed to empty your head.

“Zoro”, you whine, grinding down on his lap. “make me feel good?” you ask, leaning in to kiss him. He kisses back, much softer than usual.

“You sure?” he asks, pulling back to assess you. You nod, slowly dragging your hips over his crotch.

“It's the first step towards feeling better, and I think I could use a distraction. There's no bigger distraction than your cock ” you say, leaning forward to kiss him again. Zoro laughs, glad to see you feeling better, and closes the gap between you. He’d never say no to you. He wraps his arms around you and guides you down to lie on your back.

“Don't you worry, baby, I'll make it all go away” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. He carefully undresses you, leaving wet kisses on your skin with every article of clothing removed. He's abnormally soft with you, still wary of your heightened emotions. When you're stripped completely naked, Zoro stops to admire you. His hands trace down your body and spread open your legs. The sight of your pussy makes his cock twitch. He shuffles down so he's flat on his stomach and licks at your drooling cunt. He groans at your taste as he buries his face in your pussy and suctions his lips around your clit. You reach down to grab his hair, back arching off the bed at how good his mouth feels. He's aggressive as he eats you out, determined to empty your head of all thoughts except the desire to cum.

It doesn't take you long to cum. You try to clamp your legs shut, but Zoro's strong hands hold your legs apart as he licks you through your high. He gives you a second to breathe as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. Then, within seconds, his mouth is back on you, making you moan out. Usually, knowing the others are on board, you'd keep it down but you just can't find it in you to be quiet. Not when your boyfriend is spitting on you and eating you out like a starved man. He pushes his slicked-up fingers inside of you, curling them to reach the right spot. He knows he's doing it right when you suddenly shout his name, writing in his grasp, and his non-occupied hand holds you in place for him.

“Is that it, baby?” he asks despite already knowing the answer. He waits for your frantic nodding before leaning back in to continue eating you out. He's laser-focused on making you cum. You're too wound up, and you find yourself on the edge of an orgasm quicker than you ever have been before. There's something different in this one; you can feel a tingling in your lower stomach and tears well up in your eyes as the intense feeling begins to take over. You cry out as he works you closer and closer to an orgasm. “You going to cum again? Pretty girl. It's ok. I got you, just let go.”

Hearing I've got you is so different to hearing I love you. Coming from a man like Zoro, it means the world to hear. The tears roll down your cheeks as you cum. Your orgasm completely wrecks you and leaves you shaking and trembling into the sheets as you gush into Zoro's mouth. You don't have time to be embarrassed about the fact you're squirting or about how quickly you came with the way he greedily accepts everything you give to him. He leans back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That feel good for you, angel?” He likes to call you angel, it's a perfect dichotomy to his own demonic reputation, and you really do look angelic in your blissed-out state. He leans down to kitten lick at your tear tracks.

“I want more”, you whine, pulling at his shirt, which he happily takes off for you. Your nails dig into his skin as you pull him down to kiss you. His tongue presses into your mouth as he reaches down to undo his trousers. He pulls away to take a breath and kicks off the rest of his clothes.

“What'd you want? you gotta use your words. Or have I already fucked you senseless?” His voice has you in a chokehold, and you have no choice but to respond.

“I want your cock Zoro, please” you beg. Though Zoro enjoys all the ridiculous pet names, there's nothing that satisfies him more than hearing his name from your mouth. He gives you a smile worthy of a demon and leans over your body. He lines his cock up with your hole and teases his tip into your hole, making you cry out in frustration. “Zoro, please don't tease me” you whimper.

“Don't you worry, baby, I'll make you all better”, he coos. There's a teasing edge to his words, but there's no maliciousness or condescension. He really does intend to take care of you. He pushes his cock into your hole, and he's so big that you struggle at first. He attempts to soothe you, grunting praises through his clenched teeth and rubbing your skin. The way your cunt stretches to take him makes both of you moan into each other's mouths. His kiss feels natural as his lips move comfortably over yours. You've kissed each other a thousand times, and each time reminds you of why you gave your heart to him in the first place. Your pussy clenches around him, and he pulls back from the kiss to examine your face.

“Please move,” you say, words coming out breathy as you can barely form a coherent sentence. Zoro nods, adjusting himself to lean on his forearms so he can adequately thrust into you. His thrust gets heavier as you moan and babble about how good he feels. “Fuck, feels too good. ‘s too much.” You say, clawing at his back.

“yeah? Am I too big for you, pretty girl?” He's big, he's so fucking big, and it drives you crazy. His body over yours is like a comforting blanket to you as he bullies his cock into you. The dazed look in your eyes,, as tears start to fall lets Zoro know that he's finally achieved his true goal of emptying your pretty head. He knows you feel better now. He adjusts his position slightly, gripping the sheets on either side of your head as he fucks you down into the mattress.

Your whole body shakes as your orgasm crashes over you like a rough sea. Zoro infiltrates all five of your senses, and all you can do is call his name as you writhe in his grasp. You can hear his voice, but you can't focus on what he's saying as your ears are ringing with the intensity of your orgasm. He cums soon after you, and you feel him release inside you. You whimper as he fills you up with his cum. You cling to him as much as you can as exhaustion catches up. When the aftershocks of your orgasm cool down, you gaze up at your boyfriend.

“How're you feeling?” he asks, catching his breath.

“good” is all you can manage as he pulls out of you. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you adjust to the empty feeling. He smiles, a genuine smile, as his head buries itself in your neck. He presses several soft kisses to your skin. He's glad he's helped you, even if your release is temporary. He reaches for the pack of tissues on the bedside table to briefly clean you. He moves to lie down beside you and pulls you down on top of his chest. You fall asleep almost instantly. All the energy has been sucked out of you, and all you need is a refreshing nap.

“Get some rest, baby. I'll be here.”

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thank you for reading!!!

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

#one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro imagine #zoro smut #zoro x reader smut #zoro x reader #☁️.smut #☁️.onepiece #☁️.zoro

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borderlinereminders · 4 months

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The Six Levels of Validation:

Listening/Paying Attention: Focus on listening to the other person. Stay in the present moment, and hear them out. Even if you don't agree with what they're saying. Let them have the floor.

Perhaps they're upset with you because you cancelled plans because you were sick.

Restating: Focus on what the person has said, and then re-state and ask something like "is that right?" Make sure to be non-judgmental. You might think their feelings aren't rational, but that doesn't change the fact the other person is feeling them.

In our example, this might mean "I understand that you were very excited to see me and then disappointed when that didn't happen. Is that right?"

Observing: This is where you observe, including the things that are unspoken. Make an educated guess on what is not being said, based on body language. (I'm personally not a big fan of this one because it can be tricky if you interpret something wrong and mention "you seem really angry because you feel betrayed" and that may upset someone. It also isn't easy to read body language. My point of this is that you are valid if you can't do this step, or don't want to. You can still validate someone.)

You might notice your friend's eyes are watering and they keep swallowing. "You seem really hurt and are maybe thinking I don't care about you because I cancelled on you."

Assessing:

Focus on what history tells us and maybe use this to point out how your friend's current response is not effective. Communicate whether the person's behaviour is understandable or not. You can use past experiences to communicate this.

Using another example, maybe your friend skipped a test because they were anxious about it. You might say "It's very normal to be anxious about tests, but you won't have a shot at passing the test if you don't take it."

Compassion

Show compassion for the other person. Even if you think they're completely wrong, treat them as an equal person with their own feelings and experiences. They are a person with their own strengths and weaknesses. Try and believe in them and that they are capable of change.

Say you have a friend that is anxious to go somewhere because her ex might be there, you might say "It is very understandable you are anxious. A lot of people would be in your situation."

Validation is so important in relationships. Even if you don't "get" someone's feelings, it doesn't make them less real to that person. The feelings that person is feeling are very real, regardless of whether they make sense.

Often, people aren't looking for advice or problem solving unless they say it. Validation is a fairly good response if they don't specify what they're looking for.

#dbt skills #my post

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silverstar70 · 1 month

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Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: English isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

Summary: During a training session, the tension between Hotch and Y/N grew stronger

Warnings: 🔞‼️ new relationship, smut, sexual tension, fluff moments, friends to lovers.

Words count: 4,579k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!

Something new pt.1

Training session

The BAU training gym buzzed with quiet energy as agents filtered in and out, focusing on their workouts or sparring sessions. Aaron Hotchner, known for his discipline and dedication, was no stranger to this space. However, today, there was an unusual tension in the air, a palpable electricity that seemed to emanate from the presence of a single individual: Lieutenant Y/N L/N.

Having transferred from the Navy to the FBI for a joint task force operation, Y/N had become a familiar face at Quantico. Her strong leadership and tactical skills were undeniable, but it was her long-standing friendship with Aaron that intrigued the team. They shared a history, one that extended beyond their professional interactions.

Y/N had known Aaron before his time at the BAU, back when he was still with Haley. She had always harbored feelings for him but chose to distance herself when she realized he was happy. Now, years later, fate had brought them back together under different circumstances. Haley was gone, and Aaron was a different man—hardened by experience and loss.

Among the agents, Aaron Hotchner stood tall, clad in a fitted black t-shirt and matching athletic pants, his presence commanding even in a casual setting.

Across the room, Y/N tightened her ponytail, adjusting her workout gear. She glanced at Aaron, feeling a slight flutter in her stomach. They had always maintained a professional relationship, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between them—a tension she couldn't quite place. Or maybe she could but tried to ignore it.

Today, the BAU was conducting a mandatory self-defense training session. The agents paired off, leaving Y/N and Hotch as the only unpaired duo. He watched as Y/N adjusted her gloves, her movements precise and measured.

She looked up at him, a small, confident smile playing on her lips. "Ready to get your ass kicked, Hotchner?"

He chuckled, a rare sound that softened his otherwise stern demeanor. "We'll see about that, Lieutenant."

They circled each other, assessing, waiting for the right moment. Aaron made the first move, lunging forward with a quick jab. Y/N sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. He felt the controlled strength in her grip, a testament to her training.

"Not bad," he grunted, spinning out of her hold. They continued the dance, a series of strikes and counter-strikes, each testing the other's limits.

As the session progressed, the gym seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the space, mingling with the faint echo of their footfalls on the mats. Aaron couldn't deny the thrill he felt—her agility, her focus—it was exhilarating.

Y/N went for a high kick, aiming for his shoulder. Aaron caught her leg, pulling her off balance. She fell back, but not before hooking her free leg around his waist, dragging him down with her. They landed on the mat, bodies pressed together, the heat between them undeniable.

For a moment, they stayed like that, breath mingling, eyes locked. Aaron's hand rested on her waist, fingers brushing against the exposed skin beneath her shirt. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, mirroring his own.

"Nice move," she murmured, her voice low and husky.

He swallowed, struggling to keep his composure. "You're not bad yourself."

The tension was thick, a live wire crackling between them. Slowly, Y/N disentangled herself, rolling away and standing up. She offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. As they stood facing each other, Aaron felt a surge of desire, a need to break the unspoken rules they both adhered to so strictly.

With each move, each counter, they seemed to communicate on a different level—silent yet profound. Aaron grabbed Y/N's arm, attempting to pin her again, but she twisted out of his grip with a fluid motion.

"You've gotten better," Aaron remarked, slightly breathless.

Y/N smirked, "You haven't seen anything yet."

She lunged, feinting left before shifting right, catching Aaron off guard. He stumbled back, but quickly regained his footing, a glint of admiration in his eyes. He countered with a swift move, sweeping her legs from under her. She hit the mat with a soft thud, Aaron's body hovering over hers, his breath warm against her skin. The proximity was intoxicating, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

"You've always been a formidable opponent," Aaron said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart pounding. "You never knew the half of it," she replied, her voice equally soft but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

The air between them crackled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Aaron's gaze flickered to her lips before he quickly pulled back, extending a hand to help her up. She took it, her touch lingering a fraction longer than necessary.

They continued the session, but something had shifted. The sparring became more intense, their movements more precise. It was as if they were testing the boundaries of their own control, pushing each other to the brink. The gym seemed to grow warmer, the air thicker with the unspoken tension between them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aaron called for a break. The gym door creaked open, and JJ poked her head in. "Hey, we're wrapping up. You two coming?"

Aaron cleared his throat, stepping back. "Yeah, we'll be right there."

JJ nodded, shooting them a knowing smile before closing the door.

Y/N grabbed a towel, dabbing at the sweat on her brow. "That was a good session."

There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken words. Aaron knew he should step back, and put distance between them. But something kept him rooted in place, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/N shifted, biting her lip. "You know, we should do this more often. Training, I mean."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

She shrugged, tossing the towel onto a bench. "Yeah. It was...fun."

Aaron's gaze softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Fun, huh? That's not a word I hear often."

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. "Maybe you need to loosen up a bit, Hotchner."

He chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "Maybe you're right."

Standing there in silence, close yet distant from each other, the room felt small. The air between them cracked with electricity, Hotch lost himself looking at her as a shiver ran along his body and a feeling, he hadn’t felt in years began to spread in his chest. Every muscle tensed at the strange feeling; his stomach tightened, his breathing hitched in his throat and his heart seemed to beat out of his cage.

Y/N felt his eyes on her penetrating her soul, like he was trying to read what was going on in her mind. If only he knew. “What?”

Her voice brought him back to reality. “Umm, nothing.”

Eager to get up from there, he grabbed his gym bag ready to rush out the door, but Y/N turned towards him at the same time he moved. Face to face, the distance between them was almost nonexistent, she could feel his hot breath on her face.

Driven by some invisible force, Hotch reached out, brushing a strand of loose hair from her face. His touch lingered, fingers trailing down her cheek.

Y/N's breath hitched, her eyes darkening. She leaned into his touch, her hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Hotch..."

He swallowed, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. The sound of his name on her lips sent a rush of heat through him. "We shouldn't," he whispered, even as he leaned in closer.

He hesitated, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. But in that moment, all he could think about was her—the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body. With a quiet groan, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a fierce, desperate kiss.

Y/N responded instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer. The kiss was a clash of need and restraint, a desperate attempt to quench the fire burning between them. Aaron's hands roamed her back, pulling her against him as if trying to merge their bodies.

The world outside the gym ceased to exist. There were no rules, no consequences—only the two of them, lost in a whirlwind of desire. Aaron kissed her deeply, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lips. He felt her hands slide under his shirt, fingers tracing the muscles of his back.

They pulled apart, gasping for air. Aaron rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "We should stop," he murmured, though his voice lacked conviction.

Y/N nodded but made no move to step back. Her eyes were glazed with desire, lips swollen from their kiss. "We should," she agreed, her voice breathy.

They stood there, caught in the aftermath of their shared moment. Aaron's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of exhilaration and fear. He knew they were treading dangerous waters, but the thought of pulling away felt like a betrayal of everything he wanted.

With a sigh, Aaron gently cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. "We can't let this happen again," he said, his voice firm yet soft.

Y/N nodded, her eyes holding a mix of disappointment and understanding. "I know," she replied, her tone resigned.

They pulled away, the loss of contact a cold reminder of reality. Aaron took a deep breath, steadying himself. He offered her a small, rueful smile. "Thank you for the session. It was...enlightening."

She returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Anytime, Hotchner."

With one last lingering look, they turned and walked out of the gym, the air between them heavy with unresolved tension. As they stepped into the hallway, the sounds of the bustling FBI office reminded them of their duties, their responsibilities.

Aaron glanced at Y/N, who was already putting on her professional mask, her expression unreadable. He admired her strength, her ability to compartmentalize. But he couldn't shake the feeling that they had crossed a line, one that couldn't easily be redrawn.

As they rejoined the team, Aaron felt a pang of regret. He knew he had to be the responsible one, to maintain the boundaries. But as he watched Y/N interact with the others, a small, rebellious part of him wondered what it would be like to break the rules, to give in to the undeniable chemistry between them. A small part of him wished he wasn’t so strict with rules.

As the days passed, Hotch and Y/N fell back into their professional roles, maintaining a careful distance. The BAU team, ever perceptive, seemed to sense the undercurrent between them but chose not to comment. Work carried on, cases came and went, and the tension between Hotch and Y/N simmered beneath the surface.

One evening, after the team had finished a particularly grueling case, Y/N found herself in the conference room finishing some paperwork. Hotch noticed her and quietly entered the room, not wanting to disturb her.

He couldn't help but admire her. She was focused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the files. Despite the exhaustion etched on her face, she radiated a quiet strength that Aaron found both admirable and alluring.

She looked up after a while, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Aaron standing there, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

"Hey," she replied, her tone guarded.

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "I wanted to check on you.”

"I’m fine. It’s just being a long day," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Aaron nodded, watching her carefully. "Yeah, it was. You should get some rest."

She looked up, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking away. "I will. Just need to finish up a few things."

Aaron hesitated, feeling the familiar pull toward her. He knew he should leave, and give her space, but the urge to bridge the gap between them was too strong. He took a deep breath and closed the distance, his footsteps echoing in the empty room.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

When the team noticed Hotch and Y/N in the conference room, they exchanged curious looks. Around Reid’s desk, everyone was trying hard to avoid gazing towards the conference room, keeping in mind the promise to never profile each other. Rules they broke repeatedly.

Of course, they notice the change in behavior between their boss and the Lieutenant, the tension filling the room every time the other walked into the room, and the stolen glances when they thought no one was watching.

Truth be told, they hoped something would happen between them. They were so alike, workaholics, strict to the rules but ready to break them to save one of their own, authoritative and well-respected figures. Legends in their environment.

Hotch needed someone like Y/N at his side, someone who could understand the long hours. They never blamed Haley for the divorce, they knew this job took a lot from the people around them too, and wished that Hotch would stop blaming himself for what happened.

As the agents started gathering their things, Emily spoke with a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, what's the deal between them?" she asked in a low voice, just loud enough for the team to hear. "They seem... closer than usual."

Derek leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "You think there's something going on between Hotch and Y/N?"

Spencer blinked, his brow furrowing in thought. "They do seem to have a strong rapport," he mused, tilting his head. "But it could just be a mutual respect for each other's skills. They're both highly trained professionals, after all."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the rational one, aren't you, pretty boy? But come on, did you see the way they looked at each other? There's definitely something there."

“Whatever it is, it’s not our business,” Dave spoke, interrupting the arguments.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it, her eyes widening. “I’ve got an emergency,” she said abruptly, grabbing her phone and standing up. "I need to go."

Hotch’s heart skipped a beat. "Is everything alright?"

She shook her head, not elaborating. "I’ll explain later. I have to go."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried out of the room, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions. He watched her leave, his brow furrowing and a feeling of unease settling in his gut.

She rushed out of the room, walking past the team to head to the elevators. The team exchanged glances; their curiosity piqued by the sudden change in Y/N’s behavior.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dave shouted from Reid’s desk, seeing her in a hurry.

“Work emergency.”

Aaron’s gaze followed her as she walked out the glass doors. He could sense that something was off, but he had no way of knowing what the emergency was. He sighed and returned to his office, desperately trying to avoid the team’s question looks.

Hours later, the office was quiet. The team had left for the night, and the building was nearly empty. His thoughts were consumed by Y/N; her sudden departure, the unspoken words between them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was unresolved, and he needed to figure out what it was.

Hotch headed to the gym with a determined stride, hoping to clear his mind. The gym was dimly lit, with only the occasional beam of light cutting through the shadows. He changed into more comfortable clothes and started placing meticulously the bandages on his hands.

He started punching the bag with a force he didn’t even know he had. All the frustration, all the tension, was drifting out of his body, slowly, too slowly. Y/N occupied all his thoughts, every time she came to his mind, he felt something strange in his stomach. That kiss was wrong, so wrong and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about her.

Later that night, when Y/N came back that night, the gym was deserted. Or at least she hoped so. Already in her gym clothes, she was greeted by the rhythmic thudding of gloves hitting a heavy bag. The sight she met with was Hotch with his shirt soaked with sweat, punching the bag with intense force, his muscles rippling with each powerful strike. His face was a mask of concentration, brows furrowed and jaw set as if he was trying to punch away whatever demons haunted him.

Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him silently, not wanting to intrude. But the magnetic pull she felt towards him was too strong to resist. The shirt perfectly hugging his chest and arms, the sweat scrolling down his face, the grunts he made every time his fits touched the bad, did something to her.

The familiar feeling she felt when they kissed, was growing stronger in her stomach. The sight of him made her heart race, a fire started to spread in her chest, and a sense of admiration filled her. She had seen him in countless professional situations, always composed and in control. But this was different—this was raw, unfiltered Aaron Hotchner.

She leaned against the wall, her eyes never leaving him as he pounded the bag. She could see the sweat glistening on his skin, the way his muscles flexed and strained with each movement. It was a sight that stirred something deep within her, a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

The intensity of his workout mirrored the intensity of their earlier encounter. It was clear that he was using the physical exertion to work through his frustrations, perhaps his own confusion over their charged moment.

After a few moments, Aaron paused, wiping his face with a towel. He looked up and saw her standing there, her presence startling him. For a brief second, their eyes locked, and the weight of the evening’s events seemed to settle between them.

“Didn’t expect to see you back here,” Hotch said, his voice rough from exertion.

Y/N stepped further into the gym, her gaze steady. “Didn’t expect to see anyone here this late.”

She walked over to the bench and set down her water bottle, feeling his eyes on her every step of the way. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that wrapped around them, drawing them closer together.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Not at all."

He watched her as she carefully wrapped her hands and moved closer to him, his eyes scanning her face. "You seemed pretty rushed earlier. Is everything okay?"

She let out a sigh, her gaze dropping to the floor. "It was just some work-related stuff. Nothing to worry about."

Hotch wasn’t convinced but didn’t push further. He kept scanning her trying to catch any sign of discomfort. Once she was done, her gaze met his, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.

She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. She knew that look. "Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Like you have any right to be worried.” She said sharply.

Her words hit him like a train. His features softened as he felt his heart broke in his chest at the pain. “Y/N. Of course, I’m worried. We’re friends.”

Friends. Odd choice of words, she thought, the word echoing in her mind. Friends didn't kiss like that, didn't share the kind of moments they had. But she knew why he said it, why he needed to draw that line. Still, it stung.

"Friends. Right," she repeated, her voice flat. She quickly brushed off her thoughts and changed the subject, not wanting to explore more of his assumption. “Want to go a few rounds?" she asked, her tone casual while heading to the mats in the center of the room.

He sighed, noticing her attempt but didn’t say anything. “Sure, why not.”

The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable, and Hotch felt a familiar thrill. He joined her on the mats, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. They stood facing each other, the air between them charged with unspoken tension.

"Alright," Aaron said, his voice low. "Let's see what you've got."

They began slowly, testing each other's reflexes with light jabs and evasive maneuvers. As the intensity increased, so did the closeness of their movements. Every block, every dodge brought them closer, their breaths mingling in the confined space. It was a dance of skill and desire, each touch igniting a spark.

Aaron's eyes were locked on Y/N's, the heat in his gaze mirroring her own. He feinted left, then moved in quickly, pinning her arms behind her back. She gasped, their faces inches apart. For a moment, they stood frozen, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the gym.

"Got you," he murmured, his voice husky.

Y/N smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Not quite."

In a swift move, she twisted free, using the momentum to sweep his legs out from under him. Aaron landed on his back, the air rushing from his lungs. Before he could react, Y/N was on top of him, straddling his hips. She pinned his wrists to the mat, her breath hot against his skin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Lieutenant.” He said with a smirk on his face.

She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above his. “You too, Agent,” she whispered, her tone teasing.

They stayed like that, locked in place, the weight of their unresolved feelings pressing down on them. Aaron could feel the heat of her body, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. His pulse raced, a mix of adrenaline and desire coursing through his veins.

The space between them seemed to shrink, the air thick with anticipation. Aaron's resolve wavered, the boundaries he'd set for himself crumbling under the intensity of the moment. He could feel her breath on his lips, the intoxicating scent of her skin. It was a temptation he couldn't resist any longer.

With a low growl, he surged upward, capturing her lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. Y/N responded immediately, releasing his wrists to wrap her arms around his neck. Their kiss was a clash of passion and pent-up frustration, each trying to pour all their unspoken feelings into the embrace.

Aaron's hands roamed her back, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. He could feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her curves against him. His evident desire was strong under her, sending shivers along her spine. The world outside the gym ceased to exist; there was only her, only this moment. Their kiss grew more desperate, more urgent, as if they were trying to make up for lost time.

Y/N broke the kiss first, gasping for air. She looked down at him, her eyes dark with desire. “This is highly unprofessional,” she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

Aaron cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips. "I know," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. "But I can't stop."

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "Me neither."

With a shuddering breath, she leaned down, kissing him again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate. Hotch's hands slid down her back, tracing the curve of her spine. He felt her shiver under his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

As their kisses grew more heated, Y/N pushed against his chest, could feel his heartbeat. He ran his hands through her hair, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. The taste of her skin was intoxicating, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through him.

One of her hands slid under his shirt and Aaron's breath hitched as her hands touched his bare skin, her touch both tender and possessive. She leaned in, pressing her lips to the crock of his neck. He groaned softly, his hands tightening on her waist.

They paused, breathing heavily, their foreheads pressed together. Aaron looked into her eyes, seeing the same mix of desire and uncertainty reflected in them. He knew they were crossing a line, again, but in that moment all he wanted was her.

With a soft growl, Hotch captured her lips again, pulling her even closer. Their kisses were frantic, their hands exploring each other's bodies with a desperate need. In the heat of the moment, Hotch rolled them on the mats, ending on top of her.

Pulling apart, their eyes locked again. Dark and filled with desire, it was like looking into each other's soul. Aaron rested his forehead against hers, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice playful but barely above a whisper. "Crossing the line again, Hotchner?"

He sighed, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "I know," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "But I don't want to stop."

She nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and pride. "Neither do I."

They stayed like that for a while, holding onto each other, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. Hotch knew they had a lot to talk about, a lot to figure out. But for now, he was content to just be with her, to enjoy the warmth of her body and the softness of her touch.

Eventually, they pulled away, their breathing steadying. “We should probably get going,” she murmured, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Aaron chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Yeah, probably."

Reluctantly, they separated ready to get up. As they recollected their belongings, they felt a sense of peace. Taking this step forward, not knowing where it would lead was a jump in the dark and neither of them was used to having things out of their control, but this time it felt different. It felt right.

As they left the gym together, Aaron reached out, taking Y/N's hand in his. She looked up at him, a surprised but pleased smile crossing her face. He squeezed her hand, a silent promise that whatever came next, they would face it together.

The night was cool, the stars faintly visible above the city lights. They paused by Y/N's vehicle, and Aaron found himself reluctant to let her go.

He glanced at her, his dark eyes searching her face. "Y/N... Come home with me?" His voice was soft, the question hanging in the cool night air. It was an invitation and a challenge, a step into the unknown. “Jack is with Jessica.” He added

Y/N looked up at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she seemed to weigh the gravity of his words. Then, with a slight nod, she smiled. "Okay," she replied, her voice steady despite the tumult she felt inside.

A smile spread wide across his face and for the first time in a long time, Aaron felt hopeful. They walked to his car hand in hand, ready to explore those feelings they tried so hard to ignore over the past few weeks.

Tag: @sweetbearcolorgarden

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