#luckily for me hes also gross

[stephaniedola]

ugh i feel so bad/awkward my night sweats are back and im meant to stay over justins tonight and his room is really warm

i feel like im gonna have to like warn him i might need to leave the room in the middle of the night and pass out on the couch because i am Going to leave a pool of sweat in his bed and feel uncomfortable and gross

[aureatelys]

can't lose when i'm with you

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k a/n: happy valentines day! this idea came to me as a joke but then i couldnt stop thinking about it. also i know nothing about golf or country clubs so sorry in advance if i got anything wrong.

summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.

content warnings: 18+ MDNI PLEASE, dbf!hotch so age gap, kinda flirty!reader, porn with no plot, dry humping on a golf cart yessir, semi public sex, m masturbation, some dirty talk, men (not hotch) being gross and touchy

read below or here on ao3 here <3

You’ve been working as a beverage cart girl at your dad’s country club for the past several months to save money for school. At first, the bluntness of some of these older men flirting with you caught you off guard, but after you got your first $100 tip just from serving a group of three men a couple of beers and flashed them a smile, you were hooked. Flirting was part of the job, which became easier and easier for you the more shifts you took.

After all, it was easy money—refilling the drinks in the coolers, driving around a well-kept golf course while underneath the shade of the cart, and handing out drinks with a little smile and a hair flip. Sometimes, you even sat nearby and cheered Ted on as he hobbled over to take his shot.

You even got to add some personal touches to your beloved cart���a pink fuzzy steering wheel cover, a blush pink sheet covering the leather seats so your thighs would stop sticking to them, a pillow in the shape of a heart for your back, and a cute miniature disco ball hanging from the roof because old people love to pretend like they can party again.

And the men weren’t too bad. You’ve had a few run ins with some on the handsier side, or ones that straight up asked to have sex with you, but luckily your manager dealt a swift and heavy hand and you never saw them again. Otherwise, the customers were mostly decent, as long as you were okay with some heavy flirting and generous eye-fucking.

It’s a typical busy Saturday when you meet Aaron.

You knew your dad was having some sort of “business meeting” with the highly decorated FBI agent he’s been recently obsessed and hanging out with, and he knew that you were mentioned the most in the country club’s Google reviews. He wanted you to put him in a good mood, which was basically in your job description. You didn’t mind since your father promised a hefty tip for you at the end.

You spot them a few yards away—your father’s lucky red hat, muted in color due to wear and tear, and another man nearly a foot taller standing near him. You call out for them and speed your way there in your rickety little cart when your dad waves to you.

When you pull up next to them, it looks like they’ve just finished Hole 2, which means this would be absolute prime time for you if they were typical customers.

“Hey boys,” you call out. You’re about to ask them if they’re thirsty when you get a good look at your dad’s friend.

He’s tall, almost outrageously so with how far you have to crane your neck to look at him. He’s also ridiculously handsome; strong brows, intense eyes, and floppy hair that looked so soft you craved running your hands through them. Wide shoulders, thick arms, and a little soft around the middle in a way that made something flutter in your stomach.

He was definitely not your typical customer.

“Hey sweetie!” Your dad comes to give you a kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

He’s such a good actor, you think as you beam up at him. “And I didn’t know you were going golfing today. You guys thirsty?”

“Absolutely! I’ll take a beer, how about you, Aaron?”

“A water is fine.” Christ, even his voice is hot—low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You make your way to the cooler in the back, squinting as soon as you’re out from the shade and into the blazing sun. “A beer and a water for my two most handsome guys coming right up!”

As always, your dad laughs, but when you peek a glance out of the corner of your eye from where you’re bent over, half of your body basically in the cooler as you fish out a water bottle, Aaron was wearing an obviously practiced neutral expression.

You finally find the bottle, your hand nearly going numb from how much ice you had to dig through, and hand it to Aaron with a grin. “Here you go.”

He meets your gaze and you’re drawn to the pretty brown sugar shade of his eyes. “Thank you.” He’s polite, not even a smile gracing his lips before he’s twisting the cap off and tipping his head back to take a long swig.

You swear your throat goes dry at the tantalizingly long line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You’re able to get a closer look at him this way— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the tight red polo was stretching over his broad shoulders, and the way his hands were so large it made the water bottle look almost comically small.

Your father’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Aaron, this is my daughter. Sweetie, this is Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU I told you about?”

Boy, have you heard about him—your dad hasn’t shut up about him over the past month, talking about how he’s such a great guy, how he’s been at the Bureau for over a decade, and how he’s been bragging about his golfing skills and that the two of them just had to play some time.

You don’t exactly remember what today’s meeting was about, something about implementing a new training program to his agents? Either way, he had hoped you would use your spectacular customer service to help his odds, but you’re sure he wasn’t hoping for you to have the thoughts you were currently having that involved his hands on your hips and your mouth pressed against his throat.

A ringtone blares, nearly making you jump, and you watch as your father steps away to take a call.

You put on your best customer service smile and put your hand out, pink nails glinting underneath the sun. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something quirks at the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he puts his hand in yours. You try not to pay attention to how his hand nearly dwarfs yours or how you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers. “You as well.”

“Unit chief, huh?” you ask, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “I bet that’s a really stressful job. You should come visit me more. To de-stress.”

And it’s like Aaron’s face transforms into something softer, younger. You watch in delight as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth twisting in an effort to hide an amused smile. “Should I now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, leaning your hip against your cart. You’re suddenly glad you wore your shortest tennis skirt and sleeveless top that emphasized your cleavage quite well today. “I’m here almost every day and we close at 6.”

His body turns towards you, stepping in closer. You think you catch the faintest whiff of his woodsy cologne, breaking through the freshly cut grass smell. “Is that why your dad was so adamant about going golfing today? So his daughter could flirt his way into me approving his training curriculum?”

An incredulous laugh nearly bubbles out of you at his instant ability to read through you despite only knowing each other less than 5 minutes. You assume he’s the unit chief for a reason.

“Is it working?”

He says nothing for a moment, just looking you up and down in a way that made you want to shift, though not uncomfortably. He studies you and your pristine white sneakers, the hem of your tennis skirt brushing against the warm expanse of your thighs, and your hair in a high ponytail. He glances at the cannisters of edible glitter and mini umbrellas on your bev cart. You see his eyes dance with amusement when he notices the mini disco ball swinging from your roof.

When he looks back at you, eyebrows relaxed, the professional flat line of his mouth was gone and instead replaced with something more private. “Yes.”

Excitement settles in your chest, light and golden. You feel your face flush out of your own accord and hope you can blame the summer sun beating down on you and not your father’s coworker, no more than 20 years older than you, flirting with you.

Your father suddenly appears right around Aaron’s shoulder, always with impeccable timing. He looks just as flushed as you feel, sweat building at his hairline while Aaron looks impossibly dry despite the humidity. “Ready to move onto the next hole, Hotch?”

And just like that, Aaron’s face smoothly changes to polite professionalism and not like you were seconds away from throwing your arms around his neck. He nods and gives you a courteous smile, something playful tugging at his lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

When your father fishes through his wallet to pay for the drinks, and hopefully your tip as well, Aaron lays a hand over his before he’s pulling out his own from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, before handing you two crisp $100 bills.

“Oh,” you say before you could help yourself. And because it’s Aaron, whom you’ve never met before and not like your other customers, you didn’t feel quite comfortable in taking his money. Yet. “This more than pays for the drinks…”

He shakes his head and pushes the money towards you. “I know.”

You take his money, solely because you don’t want to cause a scene when your father was already stuttering over himself in an attempt to still cover the bill himself. You notice how thick his fingers are over the folded bills and ignore the warmth tingling up your spine when your fingers brush against his.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You don’t miss the way his eyes barely narrow at the sound of his name from your lips or the imperceptible clench of his hand at his side.

You try to hide the smirk threatening to show on your face when you get back into your cart, your silly keychains hanging from the ignition clinking with the action. You put your cart in drive and look over your shoulder at Aaron, your father’s attention already enraptured by the phone in his hand.

“See you around, handsome.”

You think you see a faint hint of pink at the tips of Aaron’s ears before you drive away.

-

You don’t see Aaron for several weeks.

You try not to let it bother you, starting to come to terms with the possibility that he just wasn’t interested in you or that you were too young and juvenile for him. So what if you’ve been picking up more shifts lately, just in case he decided to show up? Or spending your entire paycheck on cute outfits that hug you in all the right places? That isn’t anyone else’s business except yours.

So it’s totally because you’ve been bored all day when you let out a squeak of excitement at the text you get from your dad letting you know that him and Aaron were on their way to the country club.

It’s a slow Thursday afternoon, which means the men that do show up to play, clearly avoiding their wives, believe they can keep you around at their beck and call. A group of 3 older gentlemen who were somewhat regulars had asked you to drive them around in your golf cart despite regulations not allowing customers to catch a ride, but they’ve already racked up hundreds of dollars in drinks, so you’re sure your boss wouldn’t mind.

They’re also a little touchy, wanting to teach you how to play so they have an excuse to put their hands on your hips and not so subtly cop a feel, but their usual tips at the end of the day easily pays for half of your rent. So, you play along by flipping your hair over your shoulder a bit, maybe even acting a little ditsy when they talk about golf as if your dad hadn’t thrown you in lessons as soon as you were able to hold a club.

That’s why you’ve been sitting behind your wheel entertaining grandpa for the past 30 minutes, his friends actually focused on the game, as he rattles on about his ex-wife, how he’s currently looking for a younger girl to take out, and the best way to move your hips when you shoot.

“If you stand up, I can show you how,” he says hoarsely, standing so closely you can smell not only the acrid scent of beer that he’s been sipping on but also the general musty smell of old people you’ve unfortunately become familiar with.

You fake a laugh, even playing it up by leaning forward and patting his wrinkled hand from where it’s inching closer and closer to you on the headrest. “Oh, Jerry, I don’t think we have time for that. I have to make my rounds.”

When you spot Aaron and your father driving over the hill, the rattle of the shitty golf carts a familiar tune, you immediately lock gazes with him. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion the way you’re able to discern when Aaron notices the older man’s close proximity and your clear uncomfortable posture— his eyebrows drawing up in barely concealed shock before knitting in concern, eyes narrowing.

You let out a breathless laugh at the silent rage, plain as day, before scooting out through the other side of the cart and away from Jerry and his beady eyes.

“Where you going, hot stuff?” Ew.

You put on your sweet customer service smile, often used to placate the rowdier men, before you brush away imaginary dust and start throwing away the trash left on your cart. “Jerry! I still have to do my job!”

You’re relieved when Jerry finally takes the hint and shuffles away towards his golf bag that he left near the teeing area just as Aaron and your father pull up next to you with a screech, giving you a slight breeze. When Aaron steps out of the cart, the most mundane action in the world, he looks unfairly attractive. You stare at the slight flex of his biceps when he holds onto the roof of the cart before tearing yourself away and turning towards your dad.

“How are my two favorite guys?” you tease, giving your dad a hug when he opens his arms out.

“I don’t know about Hotch but I’m ready to kick his ass,” your dad laughs, patting Aaron’s back like they’re suddenly best friends. Which is almost true, seeing as how your dad has somehow become even more obsessed with him, having not stopped talking about losing to him several weeks ago and has evidently somehow roped him into another day on the course.

“Well, I don’t think I should choose sides,” you giggle and glance at Aaron. He’s squinting at you, as if you’re speaking a completely different language, his expression still strained and posture tense.  

You smile at him and give him a cheery little wave. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hi,” he says slowly, shoulders slowly relaxing, and hearing his voice makes you breathless all over again. “Are you okay?”

And it’s sweet, the obvious way Aaron is checking in on you as if you don’t do this every day. Truthfully, you’re used to it and it’s not like the men take it too far. You’re more focused on the fact that this is your second time meeting Aaron and he’s already concerned about your wellbeing and personal space like the true gentleman he is.  

You almost want to tease, poke fun at him, but then you remember your father standing mere inches away who probably wouldn’t like you flirting so unabashedly with his friend/coworker.

Instead, you roll your eyes and head towards your cart. “I’m fine. So, what can I get for you, handsome?”

You’re pulling up the POS on your iPad when you notice Aaron hasn’t answered yet. You turn to lean your hip against your cart, meeting his gaze steadily from where he’s studying you.

You decide to blatantly look him up and down— drinking in the fitted dark green polo, showing off the veins decorating his forearms, and black slacks, making him appear taller and hanging enticingly low on his hips. His hair is tousled from the wind and you notice some gray dusting at his sideburns. And then there’s something about the Rolex on his wrist, God, he’s so hot.

Aaron notices you checking him out, because of course he does. His eyes barely flicker down your body, not quite taking the same liberty as you, but you feel want curling in your stomach when he licks his lips.

“A gin and tonic sounds great, sweetie,” your father says, once again interrupting your thoughts, before he’s immediately launching into a ramble regarding what you assume is some office gossip.

“A water is fine,” Aaron says in between your dad’s breaths. He gives you a sheepish little twitch of the mouth that you shouldn’t find so endearing before he turns to give your dad his full attention.

You make your dad’s drink, the motions automatic and familiar, before you’re opening the cooler and bending over to reach a water bottle at the very bottom. You weren’t really doing it on purpose this time, too focused on getting the coldest bottle at the bottom of the cooler for him, but you still feel a thrill run up your spine when you hear a choked cough behind you.

At least you chose a skort today and not a skirt, though you’re sure it still doesn’t leave much room for the imagination with its flimsy white fabric.

A smirk tugs at your lips, hidden by the cooler, before you turn around with a polite smile and drinks in your hands. Maybe you weren’t wrong about being too juvenile for Aaron after all. “Here you guys are.”

When Aaron’s fingers brush against yours, something hot twists itself into your stomach and settles in between your thighs. You meet his gaze and notice his eyes, dark and almost predatory, pupils nearly completely blown.

You distantly hear your name being called through the blood rushing in your ears. When you break from the hold Aaron’s stare has on you and turn to where the sound came from, you spot Jerry still standing near his golf bag. He and his friends evidently still haven’t taken their shots and moved on yet, instead beckoning you over with a wave as if you were some bumbling waitress.

“Well, duty calls,” you feign a sigh. When you turn back around, Aaron’s wearing an almost petulant frown as he watches Jerry continue calling for you.

“We’ll see you around, pumpkin,” your dad says before slapping a $50 dollar bill in your hand, tutting at Aaron when he starts to pull out his wallet. “Let’s get a move on.”

And then he’s walking away, once again leaving you and Aaron alone.

You move to clean up your cart from where you made your drink, expecting Aaron to silently follow your father and not seeing him for several weeks again. You’re pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little smug, when you hear Aaron clear his throat, as if unsure what to say. And wouldn’t that be something—causing a unit chief of the FBI to hesitate.

“You get off at 6, right?”

A lazy grin blooms across your face as you meet Aaron’s eyes. He appears composed, stoic, but you can see the uncertainty swimming in his eyes, the frown still tugging at his lips as if he can’t get the thought of you with Jerry off his mind. He’s rubbing his thumb across his fingers and you wonder how it would feel on the bare skin of your hips.

“I sure do,” you chirp. “I’ll see you then?”

You can tell that Aaron wasn’t expecting you to give him another chance at backing out. His eyebrows raise in surprise, similarly to how they did when he first met you, like he thought he had you all figured out.

“See you then.”

-

Although you’re stuck with Jerry and his friends for the next 3 hours, you can feel the heavy weight of Aaron’s watchful eyes on your back the entire time. There were even several moments where you thought he was going to burn a hole in the back of your head, or especially Jerry’s, every time he put his clammy hands on yours to help you with a swing or at the small of your back.

And so what if you played it up a little, knowing that you barely knew Aaron but you were already digging your way under his skin?

Knowing Aaron was only several yards away, you laughed extra hard at Jerry’s jokes and bent over a little more every time you set the ball on the tee. It was exhilarating, playful in a way you’ve never felt before. You couldn’t deny that noticing the carnal way Aaron reacted to you, how he stared at you like he wanted to eat you alive, didn’t get you all hot and bothered. You’re sure the wetness between your legs was proof enough.

By the time 6 o’clock finally rolls around and you’re pulling up to the extra storage shed at the back of the country club, your wallet has grown a couple hundred dollars more and your cart’s glove box has gained a couple more slips of paper with phone numbers to gather dust in.

You’ve just finished unloading your cart and cleaning out your shelves when you hear another cart pulling up behind you. When you turn and realize that it’s Aaron, that he actually showed up, you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Hey you,” you say over the stack of crates you’re trying to organize. “Let me finish up real quick and then we can go.” Go where, you have no idea, but you’re sure the two of you will figure it out.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, standing so close to you now you can get a full whiff of his cologne. It’s something woodsy and warm that settles comfortably in your chest.

Any other day, you would’ve taken up his offer if only as an excuse to see him lifting crates of drinks and drooling over the way his arms would surely nearly burst out of his sleeves, but you’re honestly almost done and ready to get the hell out of here. “I’m almost done, I promise. But next time you can help so you can show off.”

Aaron immediately rolls his eyes, but you watch with glee as something quirks at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I sat in my car in the parking lot and waited for you just to show off.”

Damn, he is so cute when he’s actually making jokes with you.

You put away all of the cleaning products and lock the door before you’re stepping out to stand in front of Aaron where he’s hovering near your cart.

When you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re suddenly aware of how alone the two of you are, tucked away in a secluded area at the back of the country club where only employees have access to. The two of you are surrounded by trees, thankfully shielding you from the sun, and there’s only one path in and out of the area. The near constant drone of cicadas would be almost annoying if your attention wasn’t all focused on Aaron.

“So, why did you wait for me then?”

And just like that, Aaron’s eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Now that there was nobody else around, teasing him almost felt like you were poking at a grumpy bear. A cute and very hot bear, but a bear, nonetheless.

“So I can do this.”

And then he’s placing a gentle hand on your waist, hot despite your already sun-kissed skin, and leaning in slowly, as if giving you the chance to back out in case he was reading your signals wrong.

You don’t think you could’ve laid it on thicker, so you meet him halfway to finally press your mouths together.

His lips are soft and he smells like sunscreen, and the way he kisses you is so tender it makes your chest tighten just a little. But it’s not enough.

You step closer into him, throwing your arms around his neck, and deepen the kiss. You catch him by surprise, detecting the exasperated smile against your mouth, but then his hand tightens its grip on your hip and he’s pulling you until you’re pressed flushed up against him.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and the softness of his stomach this way, and it’s so fucking delicious you can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth and into his.

It’s like a dam breaks loose because Aaron groans into your mouth, now causing you to smile, and then he’s spinning you around until he’s sitting in your golf cart and you’re planted right on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and the steering wheel digging into the small of your back.

You gasp in surprise, nearly dizzy with the action, but it melts into a breathy moan when Aaron’s hands run all over you—down your back, your hips, the flesh of your thighs, and then grabbing onto your ass so hard it just pushes you further into his lap. The barely there friction of his belt buckle against your pussy from the movement has you rolling your eyes back into your head, causing you to cant your hips forward again to chase the sharp pleasure twisting in your stomach.

“You’re so,” he mutters under his breath, face tucked between your breasts as he attempts to press open-mouthed kisses against the skin exposed by your black work polo. “Pretty.”

Then he’s lifting up your shirt until it gathers underneath your arms, just enough so he can move the band of your sports bra up so he could put his warm, wet mouth on the underside of your breasts. You know you must smell like sweat and sunscreen, your clothes still sticking to you, but that seems to just spur Aaron on as he moves up to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Aaron…” you exhale, pushing your chest into him to chase the wet heat of his mouth as he continues alternating sucking and licking at your nipples, hardening nearly immediately under him. It feels so fucking divine, you don’t think having your nipples played with has ever felt this good. You don’t even want to think about where else he can use his mouth. “Not here…”

He pulls back from your breasts and you’re mesmerized by the spit-slick shine of his lips as he meets your gaze from below you. His hands immediately come to replace his mouth, initially groping at you until thick fingers are grazing over your nipples before gently pinching. “There’s a banquet going on at the front of the club so no one’s coming back here.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a whimper at the hot pleasure-pain from your breasts, your own hands coming up to tug at the damp hair on the back of his neck. Aaron groans at that, a sound coming deep from within his chest, and he jerkily thrusts his hips up as if they moved of their own accord.

You can feel the line of his hard cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you desperately want him, and your patience wanes thin for just a moment. Of course Aaron checked out the club first before coming back to meet you, as if he was planning on ambushing you behind the country club the entire time.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Aaron says, voice tight as if he was holding himself back from taking you right there on your golf cart with the fuzzy pink blanket on the seat and fairy lights hanging from the dashboard.

You’re tempted take him up on his offer and stop; climbing off his lap and inviting him back to your apartment so you can moan and scream all you want in your very comfortable bed, because Aaron seems like the type of man to want to hear every single noise.

But the thought of both of you being so desperate that you can’t help but rut against each other behind a fancy country club, where you’re at risk of anyone walking around the building and finding you? With your shirt rolled up and Aaron’s fingers nearly pressing bruises against your hips? You really should not find that as intoxicating and hot as you do.

It’s going to be uncomfortable, with the summer sun just barely moving to set over the horizon and your golf cart sometimes being too small even for you. You feel sweat already forming on your upper lip and hair sticking to your neck, internally hitting yourself for not buying that $5 fan that mounts on your dash.

Yet, as you look down at Aaron from where he’s propped his chin on your chest to meet your gaze, somehow looking both cute and ridiculously hot, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“Okay,” you whisper, grinning down at him before your fingers intertwine with his hair again to lean his head back and kiss him.

You think Aaron chuckles but you’re already swallowing it, shuffling somehow closer until the entire line of your body is against his. The top of your head keeps bumping into the roof of the cart and your thighs are already burning from the uncomfortable position of sitting up, but just then you angle your hips differently when you drop down and his bulge rubs against your clit in a way that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty riding on my cock,” Aaron breathes against your lips, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he starts to move you up and down on his lap. “I bet you’re so wet for me.”

His left hand trails down your thigh, moving inward, and you squirm when you feel his thick fingers pressing against your cunt, wetness already seeping through your panties and the shorts of your tennis skirt. He briefly rubs through down your slit, spreading the wetness around and causing the fabric to cling to you.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl?” he murmurs, not even giving you the chance to answer before he’s moving the fabric aside to press his hot fingers against your soaked cunt.

You let out a long moan at finally being touched, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. You try to angle your hips in an effort to get more of his fingers on you, maybe even inside of you, but Aaron annoyingly avoids your hole and instead intently traces them gently through your folds before moving up to rub circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyes nearly fluttering shut and your thighs trembling as the tight coil in the pit of your stomach builds so fast it knocks the breath out of you.

Aaron hums. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, at a loss for words as you chase the building pressure. He rubs your clit agonizingly slow, like he wants to prolong this as he intently studies your reactions.

You’re about to beg him to hurry up when he stops and removes his fingers from underneath your skirt. Your breath stutters at the loss of sensation until you notice Aaron holding his hand up to eye-level.

His thick fingers are obscenely drenched in your wetness, nearly glistening. You should feel embarrassed, that you’re so horny for him that you’re getting off at the possibility of being caught, but you don’t. In fact, noticing just how much Aaron is enjoying you enjoying yourself makes you feel even more flushed, more needy.

You lean in to bring his two fingers into your open mouth, swirling your tongue around the rough callouses as your own musky taste infiltrates your senses.

When you look down to meet his eyes, yours no doubt glossed over, he nearly growls as he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and kisses you, tongue prodding against yours. You feel a rumble from his chest as he chases the taste of your pussy in your mouth.

When he pulls back, he has a wild look in his eyes that does nothing to quell the fire in your stomach and the growing ache in your pussy. He runs his hands up and down your sides, nearly reverent, before thrusting his hips up so his cock presses against you. “Do you think you can come like this?”

Honestly, you think you could come in 30 seconds, with the way he grabs and moves your hips so deliciously you swear you could feel every inch of him, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were giving him the time of day.

“Yes,” you breath, and then Aaron is giving you a wicked grin, something dangerous in his eyes.

He moves you until you’re fully seated on his lap, giving your knees a break, and then moving you back and forth against his cock, the drag of his slacks against the fabric of your shorts rubbing deliciously against your clit, causing you to nearly choke on your own saliva.

You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting, as you start grinding against him. Even through the several layers of fabric, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing in between your cunt and against your clit. You nearly feel dizzy, like the heat was getting to you, as your hands scramble to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Just like that, honey,” Aaron pants as you watch a droplet of sweat run down the side of his face through half-lidded eyes. “Make yourself come just like that.”

You’re shamelessly whimpering in between your moans now as you grind against him faster, the tightness in your core growing at the lewdness of his words. Aaron just lets you rut against him, essentially sitting still besides his hands on your hips helping you move back and forth. You feel the stickiness on your inner thighs, a mixture of sweat and your arousal, and you bet if you glanced down, there’d be a wet spot on his slacks. That image in your head sends you reeling and nearly over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

“Come on, sweetie.” Fuck, even the low tone of his voice adds to it, the raspiness giving away how just as equally turned on he was. Your chest is heaving, thighs trembling, and you’re so fucking close. “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy later, make you come, over and over on my cock.”

Aaron rolls his hips then, and the new angle has the head of his cock pressing against your clit just so that has you gasping, back arching, and you finally fall over the edge as your orgasm hits you like a fucking train.

Your breath is knocked out of your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you desperately chase the feeling of his cock against your clit as your clench around nothing. You distantly feel Aaron still grinding your hips back and forth as you ride it out, the tight hold he has on your hips just adding to your bliss. The repeated motions eventually become overstimulating, almost too much, but it deliciously adds to your aftershocks and causes you to release a choked whimper.

When you blearily blink your eyes open, Aaron is staring at you like he’s drinking you up, memorizing every little detail about you. The hair at his forehead is curling from the sweat and his face is tinged pink, but his eyes are a pretty molten brown and there’s something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you say breathlessly, giving him a weary smile as you bring your hand up to wipe away the sweat on your own forehead. When you purse your lips, Aaron huffs a laugh and immediately leans in to give you a chaste kiss that does nothing to calm your racing heart.

You feel Aaron languidly move his hips up against you, making you hum against his mouth. When you look down, not only do you see the line of his cock where he���s still impossibly hard, but also a barely visible wet spot on his black slacks. From you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment burning hot on your ears.

“I’m not,” Aaron says before his hands come down to swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and briefs until his cock springs free.

Your mouth instantly waters because fuck, is he big. He’s thick, a drop of precum beading at the slit with a delicious-looking prominent vein that runs on the underside that you can see when he wraps his left hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, your hands twitching from where they’re still on top of his shoulders and eyes zeroing in on his large hand on his cock.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he huffs. “I’m close, just sit there and look pretty.”

You think your brain short circuits, because no way is this man not only okay with you rutting up on him, but also got close enough to coming from watching you come? And now he doesn’t even want you to touch him, he’s okay with just looking at you as he gets himself off?

Your heart thumps erratically because Aaron looks like the absolute definition of sin; hair slightly damp and tousled, his bicep flexing from where he’s erratically jerking himself off, and his chest heaving deliciously. His lips are parted and he’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, your shirt still bunched under your arms and exposing your breasts and your aching thighs wrapped around him.

You lean back against the steering wheel, ignoring how it digs harder into your back, as you decide to flip up your skirt until your clothed cunt is exposed. The piece of fabric is nearly see-through with how wet you are, and you bite your lip when you bring a hand down to move the fabric aside and angle your hips up until your bare pussy was exposed.

Aaron lets out a strangled noise, and you watch in awe as his hand around his cock pumps faster until it’s nearly a blur. You look up to see his eyes trained on your pussy, wet and puffy. The squelching of him fucking into his own hand, so turned on that he was steadily leaking precum from the slit of his cock was so fucking filthy that you felt the beginning sparks of arousal tugging in your abdomen again.

“Are you going to come all over my pussy?” you whisper.

Aaron suddenly lets out a deep and guttural groan, his breath stuttering and hand stilling, before he comes with his head thrown back. You watch, mesmerized, as hot spurts of his come land on your bare pussy, some even catching on your folds as you clench around nothing.

It’s so fucking hot, he’s so fucking hot.

It’s silent while you both catch your breath, the mindless chirping of birds dwindling down as the sun finally starts to set and the air begins to slightly cool.

You pull your shirt down before you lean over to reach for the tissues you usually keep in your purse on the floor. The way you have to twist your body while still on Aaron’s lap is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he helps you sit back up with hands on your sides.

He wordlessly takes the pack of tissues from your hand to clean you up. He’s meticulous, eyebrows almost comically furrowed in concentration as he makes sure you’re presentable again. When he’s done, he looks around for a trash can and, upon not finding one, he stuffs the tissues in his pocket. You give him a teasing disgusted look, to which Aaron responds by rolling his eyes.

When you climb off his lap with a groan, your hips and knees pop. You stretch your back out a bit by twisting your body back and forth and notice Aaron getting up as well, watching you with a confused, yet fond, expression.

“You’re too young for your body to crack like that.”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

You’re suddenly being pulled into Aaron’s embrace with a squeal, an arm snaking around your waist, instinctively putting your hands up on his chest as you steady yourself.

“I think I’ve more than shown you that I’m not a grandpa,” he mutters, lowly and directly in your ear, making you nearly swoon against him.

You clear your throat, using him as leverage to push back at him until you’re able to meet his eyes. “Well, not-grandpa, would you be able to wash my cart blanket? Since it was your idea to dirty it up.”

You can tell Aaron is holding himself back from rolling his eyes again. Instead, he chuckles, letting you go so he could grab the fuzzy pink blanket that is actually most likely devoid of any suspicious stains.

“Can I ride in your car?” you ask, giving him a shy smile. “So I can… see how efficient your washer and dryer is? The material for that blanket is very expensive, you know.” Never mind the fact that you got it from Target nor the fact that you drove yourself to the country club.

Aaron obviously sees right through you, not bothering to hold back a soft laugh. Witnessing him joking with you, his guard down, has your heart thumping just a little bit harder.

He stretches his hand out to you, palm up. “Come on, let’s go inspect my house appliances then.”

You place your hand in his, silently giggling to yourself when you notice how large his hand looks compared to yours, and sidle up next to him despite both of you still damp with sweat.

“Let’s go, hot grandpa.”

The laugh that Aaron lets out, soft and sweet, makes you so grateful to your dad for getting you this job.

taglist <3 @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover lmk if you would like to be added!

[kisses4reid]

protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

[jo-com]

Oscar but with a very dear-like girlfriend (she's very shy, skittish and very rare to see on social media because she avoids the cameras like the plague)

🩰 ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ୨ৎ ➛ Bambi

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: Based of the request☝🏻

Genre: Fluff and a little bit of SMAU

Fc: Kathryn Bernardo

Note: there are some grammar errors and i am sorry if i just answered this request now, i was finishing some of my og works in my draft soo i hope you enjoyed this!!.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ⊹⁺ 💋⋅˚₊𐙚 ─ ───────

The bustling city roared with excitement— the mix of music and chatters filled the lively streets. Within that, two friends were walking amongst the crowd when they suddenly spotted one particular driver that was walking at the side with a girl?

With nerves that fueled both their curiosity and joy, they slowly approached the couple with smiles that stretched across their faces.

One of them lightly tapping Oscar’s shoulder making the couple turn around to completely face the two. “Uhm hi, me and my friend saw you guys and were wondering to get a picture?”she spoke, some of her words came out stuttered.

Before answering, Oscar looked back at you— his eyes curling into questionable ones,”Is that alright with you my love?” He asked, his tone soft and gentle. Like he always have with you.

“Yeah baby it’s fine” you muttered, your voice barely audible, but was loud enough for him to hear.

Oscar knew how anxious and shy you get whenever there are others; it was a habit you developed when you were small that came with you throughout adulthood. Luckily you met a guy who was willingly patient for you to open up.

And you were forever grateful for that.

The two friends looked at awe at their relationship, their eyes shined with adoration, but their minds still processing the new found information.

It was never said or announced that Oscar had a girlfriend— she was also rarely seen in both the media and the paddock. So they were shock to see a girl that nestled close to his embrace.

Oscar coughed, getting the attention of the two, he smiled at them and answered back politely, “yeah sure, we can take a picture.”

The two girls squealed with happiness as they put out their phone and took one or two shots of pictures.

After that, the friends thanked them both and let them to enjoy the lively city.

…

Liked by 3,678 others

Randm_girlie OMFG JS MET THE OSCAR PIASTRI (I still can’t believe it)

Tagged; @M_Bff

View all the comments

Username1 WAIT WHO IS HE WITH

Username2 wth who is she!?!!

Username3 Does @Mclaren know abt this!

Username4 EWWW WTF

Username5 I’ve not seen her in the paddock

Randm_girlie CHILL GUYS, it’s his gf and she’s very pretty in person💕

Username6 ohh gross

Username7 js like u??

Username8 WAIT I JUST SAW HER INSTA

Username9 damn that fast?

Username8 It’s @Just.yn but it’s private

Username16 saw them once, they’re perfect

Username17 SHES NICE ASF AND GETS VERY SHY I LOVE HER

…

With that single picture— the two of you have been the talk of the social. People from his circle and friend group asked numerous times who you were and whether or not the rumors were true.

They were honestly begging for details.

“My baby is so famous”, Oscar joked, his hand sliding up to caress your cheeks.

You playfully rolled your eyes and pouted, “Not funny osc, you know how i hate attention.”

Oscar let out a few giggle and pinched your cheeks. “Too late baby, you’re just too adorable that people are so interested in you.”

“Should i be jealous?” He added, his face jokingly shifted into a shock.

You happily laughed back at his antics. The two of you sharing a laugh as you guys joked around some more.

…

Liked by Mclaren, Just.yn, Charles_leclerc and 4,789,701 others

Oscarpiastri Compilation of me and her (this is the closest you will get to seeing her pictures)

Tagged; @Just.yn

View all comments

Username10 SHES SO PRETTY WHAT

Username11 R U GATEKEEPING HER SIR??

Oscarpiastri yes she’s mine forever

Username12 CAN SHE BE MINE

Oscarpiastri uhm no.

Username13 Admin come get ur boy

Landonorris No wonder you don’t hangout with me anymore🙁

Oscarpiastri she’s way better ngl

Username14 BRUTAL😭

Username15 WAIT SHE KINDA FINE

Oscarpiastri KINDA??? Girl please she’s hella fine

McLaren We need to teach you some selfcontrol☺️

…

I hope i did it okay?? Idk it felt off🥹🥹

[86espresso]

quinn hughes x drunk!gf!reader

sum ; you’re horny and drunk and sad and quinn won’t let you kidnap a stray animal

warnings ; no proper title because i suck, slightly suggestive but no smut, kissing (yay), casually brining up kids bc we’re locked in like that, distracted driving! gawd please don’t do that

a/n ; they should invent a quinn that is real

w/c ; 783

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

“Please. I’ll give you road head.”

Quinn laughed.

“Tempting. But still, no.”

You pout, turn away from him, and stare out the window. Watching the blurred lights flash in front of you made you dizzy, so you shut your eyes.

Quinn saying ‘no’ to you was a rarity, and you told yourself not to get used to it, but he’s always treated you like such a princess, it was hard not to. In this case, it was an alley cat you found and quickly made friends with after leaving the club and calling Quinn to come and pick you up. He had to pry you away from the poor cat and he tried to explain to you that you can’t just take a random cat off the streets, but you weren’t having any of it.

He also made sure that all of your friends had their safe rides home, ever the charge-taker, and you thought that that was very sexy of him. You would’ve jumped his bones right then if you weren’t so upset about the cat.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be upset,” he says, softly, putting his hand back on your thigh after you brushed it off. “What if he belonged to someone else?”

“It was a she. I checked.” You huff again, arms crossing half because you were cold and half because you wanted to show Quinn how upset you were. He notices the movement out of his periphery and turns the heat up.

“That’s gross.”

“You’re gross. Quinny, I really want that cat.”

He sighed. “Sweetheart, a cat is also a responsibility, don’t you think? And plus, it would take your attention off of me. Can’t have that.”

Quinn was joking but it flew over your head.

“That’s ridiculous, what will you do when we have kids?” You let his hand stay on your thigh this time, and it feels nice.

“Baby, that’s different and you know it.”

His car slows to a stop in the driveway of your home before you even notice that you’re there. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you fully.

“Tell you what, we’ll go to the store tomorrow and buy you one, yeah?” He reaches forward and places a hand on your cheek, which you gratefully nuzzle into. “You cool with that, sweet girl?” The use of ‘sweet girl’ brings your attention to his preposition. You pretend to think for a second before grinning at him.

“Yeah.” You turn your head to kiss his hand. “I’m cool with that.”

Quinn’s heart warms at the action before he notices the look in your eye. The one where you wanted—needed—a kiss desperately. He always waited for you to ask, though.

“Anything else you want, sweet girl?”

“Kiss me?”

And he complied immediately, not wanting to keep you away from anything else that you wanted. His lips met yours in a soft, closed mouthed kiss that sent you reeling for more.

His hand drops from your face and down your shoulders to your waist. Your hands cup his face, feeling the texture of his stubble under your fingertips, and it feels wonderful.

Your lips open slightly to ask Quinn to deepen the kiss and he does, his tongue slipping into your mouth and caressing your gently. One of your hands slips down to his shirt to grip it while you move to climb on his lap. You giggle and pull away when you realize that Quinn was pulling you into his lap at the same time and it caused you both to knock heads together. Quinn smiled at the sound. Luckily, neither of you were hurt.

His heart burst at the sight of you in front of him, drunk and giggly, snug and perfect in his lap. You lean in to connect your lips again and you slowly make out for a minute. You feel yourself getting needier at his warm hands on your back and in your hair and his intoxicating lips, so you grind down on him to get some sort of relief.

“This,” he pulls away abruptly and holds your hips in place so you stop moving them, “is what we’re not going to do tonight.”

“I can’t have anything,” you grumble, your brows furrowing at him rejecting you twice.

He laughs, his lips moving to the apple of your cheek.

“You’re drunk, baby,” kiss. “My girl,” his kisses trail to the tip of your nose, “will get everything she wants,” kiss to your cheek, “when she’s all fresh and sober,” kisses on your jaw and back to your lips.

You hold out your pinkie indignantly and he laughs, connecting his with yours and bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Mine all mine ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: (TGC) Gaius Julius Caesar x fem!reader

A/N: as requested by multiple people ;)

Warnings: +18 mdni, mutual pining, cheating reader, murdered/poisoned husband, affair, making out, grinding/humping, oraljob (both f and m receiving), handjob (both f and m receiving), vaginal sex and creampie.

Summary: You hated your husband and want to be rid of him, luckily you meet a certain man who will change your life.

Word count: 3.6k

Another boring fucking supper party hosted by your boring fucking husband. You were only married to him for about two months but you never wanted him. All you got married for was the money and power your husband could provide. You came from a great ancient family in Rome.

So does he, your husband was a well known and feared senator. Quite an important man, but also old. And not to mention gross and too horny. It was well known you were beautiful and from when you were young you had many suitors lined up, begging for your fathers approval, but your husband was the richest, so he won.

You rolled your eyes as he looked way too proud to have you at his side. You greeted your his guests and your husband got many envious stares from his male guests. You never needed to persuade him much, many men fell to their knees at the sight of you. And you knew that even though you were a ‘helpless’ woman, you at least had that power.

Many old, ugly and plain people passed you, while the women all gave you glares. You never understood why they had to be so envious while you were all in it together. Most women were actually girls, some even as young as 14 to 15. You were more lucky though, you were married the day you turned 18. Some consider that too late but those were your fathers terms. 

You were very grateful for him and you knew that he would have your back. You started to get more and more bored when the amount of people didn’t seem to end, luckily you had one of the biggest houses in Rome and it could fit thousands of people if it had to. But the guest list for tonight was only about two hundred. Two hundred of the most important people in Rome. 

But then it seemed time slowed when a certain brown haired man stopped to greet your ugly husband. The man then introduced himself to you. “Gaius Julius Caesar, thank you for having me, it’s a beautiful home. Almost as beautiful as you, it is true what they say... You are very lucky.” He said that last part while turning to your husband before joining the larger party in the main hall. Your husband thinned his lips and looked at you angrily.

You shrugged your shoulders and placed a hand on his, faking your empathy for the idiot. He of course fell for it, as always, and went back to greeting the last guests strolling in. Only a couple more stiff smiles before finally the whole party was here, and your husband went to check on some of his men. You strided towards some women you knew growing up and started a conversation with them. 

They provided you with some gossip and soon you were talking about the husbands all of you wanted instead of the ones you got. So you told them about Gaius and of course they knew who you were talking about. “Of course you want the most devious one of them, and I bet you could get him too, I saw how he looked at you, only moments ago.” One of them told you. And sure enough, when you looked over one of the women’s shoulders, his brown eyes were looking at you.

You smiled at him, the way you did when you ‘persuaded’ your husband, he grinned back. One of his men looked at him questioningly. “Too bad she’s already married.” Agrippa whispered to Gaius, which earned him an annoyed look. “So? Divorce exists.” He fired back. “You really think that that old man is going to let a woman like her go? And what if she’s pregnant? She’ll have to give up that child.” Agrippa argued. 

“Don’t think she is, a girl like her wouldn’t let an old fuck like him touch her.” He smiled, Agrippa rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t have a choice obviously, that’s why she very well could be.” Gaius got annoyed by his friend and needed a break from his constant nagging. He always got what he wanted and he would have you too.

He strolled over to Cicero’s wife, not nearly as pretty as you but he was hard from your smiles at him and he needed relief. He wasn’t too sure about getting away with fucking you at your own husband’s party. So the desperate one would do, he knew she would do anything he asked, he was one of the most young, handsome and richest ones here. 

So he whispered something in her ear, that of course didn’t go unnoticed by you and jealousy filled your chest. Your face fell, and he glanced at you while he discreetly followed the other woman up the stairs. You decided to ignore it and went back to talking with your ‘friends’ instead. You did learn that he wasn’t married and you envied him. He could do whatever he wanted but you couldn’t.

You tried to focus on anything else but the thought of him fucking that other woman right now but you couldn’t and before you knew it you had excused yourself and rapidly ascended the stairs. Glancing behind, you saw your husband and his guests busy talking and drinking. He didn’t have a fucking clue.

You searched around the quiet upper floor for a while, until you heard soft groans and moans. The sounds lead you closer and closer to your own bedchamber. When you pulled the soft fabric aside and your eyes met his, he was laid on your bed with the woman between his legs, sucking him off. He started to pant and moan faster at the sight of you.

The sounds and the sight of such an arousing scene made heat puddle in your own belly. And soon you were panting along with him, your eyes never left each other and the look on your face quickly made him cum in the woman’s mouth, waking you up and moving yourself behind the fabric again, being careful the woman didn’t see you when she left. 

Then he appeared from behind the curtain, giving you a wink as he walked off. “That’s Cicero’s wife.” Your words made him turn around as he walked back over to you. “Yes.” He replied curtly. “I thought he was your friend.” He stepped closer to you. “He is. He married her because her family’s rich. That’s why everyone gets married, money, power, family. They’re the only things that matter.”

You looked up at him and he glanced at your lips, licking his own. “To the son of a money lender I’m sure that’s true.” He smiled and inhaled. “Grandson.” He mumbled, before crashing his lips on yours. You whimpered at the sudden feeling and he only deepened the kiss, gripping your hips tightly. Your hand travelled up his leg and he leaned into your touch. Then you squeezed his bulge, he let go of your lips and groaned in response. 

“That’s my bed.” You said, he looked at you with heavy eyes. Then you let go of him, leaving him there with another erection. You went back to the party and your husband, much to your approval, was already drunk, good, no sex tonight. He had only fucked you once on your wedding night, but his seed didn’t take root so you were still free from the burden of a child, but you knew that one day he would succeed, so you had to take action.

The party was soon over and the guests started to leave, you were once again at your husband's side but now bidding them goodnight. And soon enough Gaius walked past, only giving you a grin. Your husband looked at you questioningly but you again pretended not to know Gaius’ intentions. Since he was still drunk he quickly forgot and the last of the guests had left for the night.

That night you were thankfully in your own bed, your husband passed out in his own and your hand slid down your stomach between your thighs, pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. And that night after you had one of the best orgasms of your life, you dreamt of him. Gaius Julius Caesar, showing up on a huge white stallion with a hundred knights, slaying your husband and claiming you as his. 

A few months went by and everytime you still managed to avoid being with child. Much to your husband’s dismay, who grew more impatient and annoyed. But you promised him that soon you would bear a son. This was not true, when he did have sex with you, you had your servant bring you water, and you washed his spend out of you. So far it worked, as you showed no signs. 

You were only a few moments back home from the market with some other wives when your husband barged in. Snapping you out of your thoughts as you admired some of your new jewellery. “I have good news!” He laughed. It made your stomach curl. “Gaius Julius Caesar himself has invited us to a supper party at his house. Some three hundred are invited and we are one of them!” Now that made your smile return. 

So only a few nights later you arrived at Gaius’ house, it was even bigger than yours and he greeted you with a big smile. Your idiot of a husband didn’t even notice, taking in the house. Soon you were joining the larger party and your husband was quickly lost in the crowd. Good. You didn’t need that fool tonight. No, your plans were different from his. Tonight you would get yourself a new husband. 

It didn’t take long for him to find you, you purposely had left to ‘catch some air’ and had walked to the balcony outside. He walked up behind you and joined your side. “You enjoying the party?” He asked. “Not really.” You responded, looking at him with heavy eyes. His tongue pressed the inside of his cheek. “Me neither. Follow me up soon, third door to the left.” With that he made his way back inside.

Moments later when you knew for sure he was in his room already, your feet guided you inside, and you as discreetly as possible made your way upstairs. You passed the doors, one, two, three. You knocked on the door and it opened fast, a hand pulling you inside. “No one followed you?” You shook your head. His lips then pressed against yours and he pulled you against him tightly. He broke the kiss for only a moment.

“I will make you mine.” He groaned against your lips. You smiled and his tongue soon invaded your mouth. You moaned at the feeling, heat cursed through you and you knew you had made the right decision. He moved both of your bodies towards the bed, climbing on top of you. Then he started to nip and suck at your neck, your moans echoing through his room. Never had you felt such pleasure from so little.

“Gonna show you how a husband is supposed to fuck his wife.” He growled against your skin. You gasped at his words and he harshly ripped off your robes, sucking and licking at your exposed skin. Your body responded beautifully to his touch and he had never been this hard in his life. Your own body was aching as well, begging him for relief.

He kissed down your bare body and didn’t neglect your breasts, he flicked his tongue over your nipples and you shivered at the sensation. Is this what sex is supposed to be? When he was pleased with your now sensitive nipples he kissed down until he reached your glistening folds. He licked his lips before dipping his head down, licking at your clit. Your back arched and a loud cry left your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it? My little slut, you’re all mine now.” He groaned swiftly going back in. He moaned against your cunt when he grinded his hard cock against the bed. Only adding to your own pleasure. Your hand moved to his head, grabbing his brown locks for support. He saw this as a sign to move his tongue faster and so he rapidly flicked his tongue over your clit. 

You could barely breathe, the pleasure was suffocating you and you could only whimper at the warm tongue between your legs. He noticed your peak was near and moved his hand to enter a finger inside you, sliding it further in until he reached that sensitive spot inside you. He knew he found it when you jerked at his touch. He never slowed down his tongue as he now fingered you as well, bringing you to edge of release.

With only two more licks and a press against your sensitive spot inside, you contracted when your climax rushed through you, coming with a loud cry of his name. You didn’t give a single fuck about if anyone had heard you, since he made you cum so hard you saw spots. When the overwhelming feeling had calmed, you looked down at him, he was still between your legs, resting his face on your left thigh. Your juices over his face and his pupils blown wide.

He only allowed you a moment before he came back up, licking your lips and into your mouth when you opened it on instinct. He let go off you for a moment to take off his own robes, revealing abs and a dark happy trail leading to his thick hard cock. It had veins and a red leaking tip. You couldn’t wait to put it in your mouth, nevertheless inside you.

You sat up and moved on your knees, Gaius positioned himself on the bed, him now in your previous place against the pillows. You moved between his legs now and realised you had never sucked a cock before. Your husband always just immediately penetrated you and that was the end of it. “Do you ever do this for your husband?” He asked, his voice raspy as his eyes were glued to your tits. You shook your head. “Good.” 

He motioned you to come closer and he wrapped your hand around his cock, helping you pump it up and down. “Now just kiss it, and then wrap your lips and suck on it.” You did as told, you knew you’d do anything to him. You carefully kissed his tip, right at the slit where pre cum was dribbling out and he hissed at the feeling. Then you wrapped your lips around his uncut cock, he helped you pull the skin down a bit so his whole tip was exposed. You instinctively let your tongue swirl around his angry head, and he let out a cry of pleasure. 

You stopped for a moment, “Am I better than that whore from my husband’s party?” A grin played on his lips, “She doesn’t even slightly compare to you.” You smiled at his words and went back to swirling your tongue over his tip. “Fuck- go deeper- take it deeper- ah!” You took him deeper in your throat as he commanded and he grabbed your head. His other hand furiously holding on to the sheets.

He wasn’t too long but he was very thick and his was so much prettier and bigger than your husbands, it made you drool all over his cock. You wondered what his response would be to fondling his sack so you moved your free hand up his leg. He looked down at you with an open mouth, completely frozen when you started to massage his balls. He could only let out hitched breaths and grunts.

“K-keep going- almost there- please!” He moaned when you licked his slit, your other hand still giving his balls attention too. And soon his abdomen tensed, his breath stuck in his throat as his cock twitched in your mouth, then his seed spurted down your throat, a guttural moan leaving his. “Fuckkkk!” He came so much it dripped out of your mouth, on your chin as well as his shaft and balls. He gasped and moaned at the sight.

You let go of his cock and swallowed the salty liquid, he sat up and swiped his thumb over your chin, gathering the remainder of his seed and putting it in your mouth. You made sure to suck his thumb all clean before he pulled it out, chuckling at how dirty he had already made you. Gaius then pulled you towards him by your waist so you laid upon his chest. “I will have one of my men discreetly kill your idiot husband, so you might be mine.” You looked at him with uncertainty. “What?” He asked. 

“How though? My husband is a powerful man, we have a lot of guards.” He smiled sweetly at you before kissing your head. “Don’t worry about that, Agrippa and I will make a plan. Then we shall have the most beautiful wedding Rome has ever seen.” And so you got dressed after a while and looked for your husband. Gaius gave you a smile before blending in with the crowd. 

You were awoken by screams of members of the household, it had been a week since the party of Gaius and you anxiously awaited for your husband's death. You and Gaius knew he would never divorce you and so he had to die, in order for you to marry him. You threw the sheets off you and ran to where the screams were coming from. Your husband's room, finally. You were stopped by one of the servants who begged you to stay back but you pushed past him.

There he laid, in his bed, In a puddle of blood. Blood stain trails out of his nostrils, tear ducts and mouth, even out of his ears. What had Gaius done to him? Clearly some sort of poison. You pretended to be surprised and screamed, pretending to want to go to him and ‘struggling’ against the servant's grip holding you back, he then led you back to your room. Not long after the body was removed, the news was all over Rome. And a grim funeral followed. Gaius attended as well as his friend Agrippa and he ‘comforted’ you during the remembrance supper. 

Two days after the funeral, Gaius arrived at your house. You, by law, had inherited the estate and got approval to find a new husband, what the senate didn’t know, was that you had already picked one. And so the news of your wedding soon spread like wildfire across Rome, the women jealous and talking about how fast you had found a new husband. But you didn’t care.

The wedding itself was somehow better than your previous. A thousand had come, and you wore the finest jewellery and fabrics. Even Gaius had on a marvellous robe and his hair was for once neat. You couldn’t help but stare and smile at each other during the ceremony and it was soon officiated with a heated kiss. Gathering a loud applause from the guests. The rope that tied your gown was loosely fastened, ensuring Gaius would have easy access later that night.

You only had a quick supper party after the ceremony, wanting nothing more than to finally fuck your new husband. So you rushed up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the last guests to leave and immediately rushing to his bedchamber, slamming the door shut behind him he almost jumped you. Slamming his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss.

“Finally I have you.” He said between kisses, once again moving you to his bed. But this time it was you who climbed on top of him, grounding your hips against his, he easily pulled the rope out of its knot. Your gown almost fell off you with the rope discarded but Gaius helped pull it off anyway.

You could already feel how soaked you were. Your heated kiss resumed and Gaius’ hips bucked up into yours eagerly. “How about I just fuck you right now hm?” He groaned. He didn’t even pull off his own robe, rather he helped you lift up the skirts, revealing his aching cock. You held yourself steady with both hands on his chest, he lined his length up at your entrance and you carefully sank down on him.

Both of your moans filled the room, the sensation of his cock filling you up so well becoming overwhelming. “So fucking tight-” He gritted out, hips snapping up into you as his patience had run out. He had to have you, fill you with his child. The thought of you waddling around with a swollen belly made him dizzy. 

You rode him with urgence wanting nothing more than for him to fill you with his cum, the thought drove you crazy. His cock hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust and it made you a blabbering moaning mess, clenching down on his cock as you came with a cry. His grip on your hips tightened and he fucked into you mercilessly, soon his hips started to falter and cuss after cuss left his lips. With a couple more harsh pounds into you he filled you with his seed.

And just like last time, he came so much, it dripped out of you. He quickly turned you around and pulled out in the process. With two fingers he pushed his cum back inside ensuring a child would be on the way soon. And it worked, in no time you were walking around with a swollen belly, a proud look on Gaius’ face. But of course he still fucked you every night.

[fog-clan]

Next: Feb 1st

Previous: Moon 29

Ok I just want to say a couple of things real quick, Coalthorn is not a violent dude hes just been pushed to his absolute limit,, he didn't scratch Rain or anything just smacked his arm off of him (Im not sure if it translated perfectly in the page so I just want to be sure thats known!! Secondly, id like to admit something,, I did interfere with the game here, I said I wouldn't but I had to I was getting so sick and tired of Rain asking that I removed his ability I was hopeful in the beginning that they might go poly, but after so many denied proposals I decided it all felt too gross to me now even if Coalthorn did accept at some point Hope you understand my reasoning, and there luckily will be no more asking from Raintiger smh

I have a discord where I will also be posting pages (With optional ping so you can be notified right away!), future page previews, and Q&As Join here: DISCORD LINK

Read on Comicfury! Here! Interactive Allegiances: Here!

[snaillock]

would you do satosugu discovering their "friend" (both of them have a fatass crush on m!reader) is a teen dad, and just all of them chaotically taking care of a baby. (like those collage students raising a baby tiktoks?)

ok so technically i only write for blue lock buttttttttttt… i am more than willing to make an exception for this. this is also my favorite niche of satosugu fics so im super honored someone requested it from me

tags: male reader has a foster daughter bc hell yeah girl dads, unnamed child bc that's too much for me, reader is a sorcerer, found family but in a janked up kinda way, whipped satosugu, pre-hidden inventory so everyone is in high school in this this a long one yall

part two coming soon!

★ when assigned an extremely harsh mission, you find an orphaned child barely a year old within all the rumble. you soon found out her family was recently killed in the destruction. unsure of what would happen to her after this, you decided to take her as your own.

★ scared of any judgment, you didn’t tell anyone about her so only a few higher-ups were aware. luckily you were allowed to live off campus so you two could have more space and privacy.

★ however the physical effects of raising a kid all on your own at such a young age were certainly showing. you came to school visibly worn down, often falling asleep in the middle of class and taking more absences than usual.

★ the first people to notice, of course, were gojo and geto. as nosy as they were, they tried not to push it, knowing you had just come back from a really taxing mission. though they did get more and more suspicious whenever you didn’t let them visit your new place.

★ however one day, they did spot you out in public wearing a baby carrier with, of course, a baby they’d never seen before resting right inside. they immediately came up to you and bombarded you with multiple questions before you got them to chill out and explained everything.

★ wanting you to take some time off (and win you over), they offer to take care of her regularly. who were you to refuse? after all, it is free babysitting and you were already using up so much money hiring actual babysitters.

★ during their first babysitting job, you thanked them profusely before going back into your room and instantly falling asleep the moment your body hit your bed, taking a very well-deserved nap.

★ you see, gojo was already pretty hesitant about you having a kid around. this was before he took in megumi so he found basically any child gross and annoying. (though he’s somehow even more attracted to you now that you’re a dad.)

★ coughs dilf lover gojo i mean what?

★ so when gojo picked up your baby for the first time, she immediately cried when they made eye contact and he got so so personally offended that he started rethinking this whole babysitting thing.

★ the first thirty minutes or so of taking care of your kid went pretty okay. that was until she started crying again and neither of them knew why.

★ you see, these idiots have no idea how to care for a child.

★ they frantically tried to calm her down and figure out what was wrong without needing to wake you. they checked if she was hurt in any way, she definitely wasn’t hungry since they already fed her, nor did she need to be changed. gojo even called shoko to see if she could do anything.

★ when they eventually saw her crawling towards your room and sobbing right outside your door, hesitantly let her in to see her climb onto your bed and lay down with you, realizing she just missed you the whole time. that entire experience made them so exhausted that they almost climbed into bed with you. but when they saw the gratitude on your face after you woke up, it made it all worth it.

★ luckily the next few times they watched over her, babysitting got more and more easy as she grew used to them.

★ they start coming over so often to look after her that your place basically becomes their second home.

★ geto is in charge of doing her hair since the last time gojo attempted it, it was just a big mess of hair ties and ribbons. geto’s definitely not complaining since he loves to get her ready. in fact, geto does a lot of the responsible stuff when taking care of her since gojo, hmm what’s a nice way to put it, lacks a lot of the necessary skills.

★ oh yeah, remember what i said about gojo hating younger children? yeah, that completely changes as he spends more time with your daughter. he’s almost always playing with her or showing up with a brand new toy or stuffed animal just for her. he ends up loving her so so much and wants to be her cool fun dad.

★ unfortunately both of them are way too nice when it comes to disciplining her. they let her get away with so much. late bedtimes, too much tv, grabbing any treats she wants off the grocery store shelves. how can they not spoil such an adorable little girl like her!?

★ what’s also unfortunate is how they try to drag you into it.

“come on, y/n. let loose a little. cake for dinner does sound pretty appetizing right now.”

“come on. just let her watch ten more minutes before bed.” gojo lazed on the couch with her on his lap. “besides this cartoon is starting to get good.”

“come onnn… just let her buy it.” geto held up a sparkly pink dress you already told him she doesn’t need with his own sparkles in his eyes. “she’ll look so cute in it. i promise i’ll pay you back.”

★ their hearts explode whenever you’re affectionate with her. they love the way you gently rock her in your arms while humming a sweet lullaby, slowly lulling her to sleep. the way they see you kiss her forehead after placing her into the crib before quickly turning around and acting like they weren’t staring the whole time. they fall head over heels for you for probably the twentieth time by now since they met you but those times were definitely the hardest.

★ they’ve been in her life for a good while so when she begins talking more frequently, she starts calling them her papas as she does with you. gojo aka former “ugh kids are so gross and icky” feels his heart combusting whenever she calls him that and he owns that title proudly. meanwhile geto feels so endeared and honored that she sees him that way.

★ “we’re not the stepdads. we’re the dads that stepped up!” looking asses.💀

★ the secret of you having a kid doesn’t last for long since these two can’t keep quiet about it. they’re just way too happy and want to show her off. especially gojo who scrolls through 100s of photos of her while gushing about her to basically anyone who’ll listen. shoko and nanami are the most common targets whenever this happens.

★ he even ends up showing photos of you and your daughter napping together (that you had no idea he took), making you snatch his phone away in embarrassment.

★ whenever you guys go out on family dates to go to the beach or picnicking, geto always takes the time to dress her up with pretty hairstyles and cute little outfits. he absolutely loves doting on her.

★ they love her with all their hearts and would do absolutely anything for her. she’s so lucky to have three weird dads take care of her and raise her. a very odd and… unconventional family dynamic but an amazing one nonetheless. this family only grows bigger and bigger once gojo takes in megumi and geto practically adopts mimiko and nanako.

please read my rules before following

taglist: @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo

ayo we rocking with the star bullet points?? 🗣️⁉️

[eddiesghxst]

ohhh the post about eddie masturbating in the bathroom was AMAZING AHHH!!

could i request something where nancy, robin, jonathan, eddie & reader are having a sleepover at steve’s & when everyone’s asleep eddie & reader get all handsy, so she jerks him & then rides him, trying to be quiet because they’re still in the same room as the others (robin sleeps with steve in his bed & jonathan, nancy & the two of you on the ground on mattresses) but at some point they move it to the bathroom just a few doors down.

in the end, steve gets woken up & catches them in the bathroom because they accidentally left the door open but they don’t notice so steve just goes back to bed traumatized for life💀😩

sorry it’s a bit long i just LOVE your writing!!

because i won't be able to get the next part of price of fame up this week, here is some spooky slut action to tithe <3

ALSO, im so sorry it took me forever to write this BUT THANK U STINK, i changed a few things around, i hope u don't mind, but here u gooo!

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

It’s wrong.

What you and Eddie are doing is so wrong.

It's gross and something you would probably scrunch your nose at and fake a gag if anyone ever told you they did it. But fuck, you’d be lying if you said it isn’t turning you on to no end— Eddie’s fingers working you towards your first orgasm as your nails dig into his thighs to keep you grounded as you try to remain quiet for your sleeping friends.

The older half of the gang decided to pull a spooky night at Steve’s place, ‘This is strictly rated-R, shitheads.’ Steve explained when the younger half tried to join in. You’d all settled into Steve’s comfy basement after a long week and ran through A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Carrie, and endless junk food and beers before everyone slowly began to tap out.

Jonathan was the first to fall asleep, and once Nancy noticed, she went ahead and moved them to the bigger couch, where she inevitably dozed off as well. Robin was next, claiming she could feel her arteries clogging up with the amount of sugar you’d all ingested and, ‘If I die, it better be in my sleep, not watching shitty horrors with you three idiots.”

And then it was just you, Eddie, and Steve.

One thing about Eddie is when the lights go down in a room, and he’s next to you, hands will roam. Fingers will grab and squeeze at skin, caress and provoke goosebumps across your arms, and eventually sneak into sensitive areas— and it doesn’t matter who else is in the room.

You already knew where things were going when you felt Eddie’s cool rings press into the warm skin of your thigh. You had just begun the fourth movie of the night, Ghostbusters, because you claimed you needed a break from the horror movies, and Eddie couldn’t wait any longer to get his hands on you. Luckily, Eddie’s wandering hands are hidden beneath the blanket you share, so Steve is clueless about the sinful actions happening across the room.

And you were able to hold off your moans and whimpers for the most part, but Eddie was getting mean with it. Two fingers dipping in and out of your wet cunt at a painfully slow and agonizing pace that had your legs quivering. He occasionally curves his fingers up to brush up against your spot, teeth digging into his lip to hide the groan of pain when your nails dig deeper into his skin— he’s sure you’ll leave a mark. And you were doing good. 

You were doing so good.

Until Eddie added a third finger, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Fuck sweetheart, you get any wetter than this, and I might have to fuck you now,” with an added swirl of his thumb over your clit, and you were done for.

You moan unexpectedly loud and pathetic, and anybody with common sense would know what the two of you are doing. The sweaty palm of your hand slaps over your mouth as your eyes widen in surprise, gaze snapping over to where Steve is laid back in the La-Z-Boy recliner, and from this angle, with Steve’s chair turned towards the TV, you can only see his full head of fluffy brown hair. 

You don’t want to risk it, you think. So, you curl your fingers around Eddie’s wrist and pathetically tug, “Steve,” You whisper, alerting Eddie that maybe this isn’t a good idea.

But Eddie only nuzzles his face into your neck and quickens the pace of his fingers, reveling in the soft gasp you let out as he whispers in your ear, “He’s asleep.”

You look to where Steve is sitting again, wearily searching for any signs that he might still be awake, but to your favor, you find none— and maybe you ignored the small moment where Steve shifted, but between the overwhelming feeling of Eddie’s breath on your neck and the toe-curling sensations he’s bringing between your thighs, you can’t seem to care anymore.

“I’m close,” you rush through a whispered breath, hips tilting up to meet his skilled actions. “Yeah?” He nips at your ear, and you whimper, eyes shutting. “You gonna cum on my fingers? In front of our friends, honey? You’re dirtier than I thought,” He teasingly growls the last part, licking behind your ear before sucking the tip between his lips. You pant his name, this time loud enough to cause Eddie’s hand to slap over your mouth.

“As badly as I wanna hear those pretty moans of yours, sweetheart, you need to be a little more quiet,” He whispers. You nod as best as you can, drool smearing over Eddie’s palm as you roll your hips against his palm as quietly as you can.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie encourages, calloused fingers digging into your cheeks, “Want you to cum all over my fingers like the desperate little slut you are.”

Your legs quiver at that, eyes rolling back as you begin to teeter over the edge. “Gonna take you upstairs after this so I can fuck you real good. Split you open nice and wide on my cock; you want that?” He hums, slinking his hand down to squeeze at your jaw and turn your head to where his lips catch yours as he speaks. You nod desperately and pathetically, and Eddie smiles, licking across your lips once before your eyes squeeze shut, and the dam finally breaks.

Eddie presses his lips against yours to silence your noises, which go unheard with the help of the movie playing. Eddie can feel you squeezing and pulsing around his fingers, and his cock jumps at the thought of what’s to come after he drags you out of this fucking basement.

Eddie kisses you throughout your climax, fingers gently guiding you through the hurricane of pleasure until you push him away with a whisper, “S’too much.”

Eddie lets you have it, removing his fingers from you with a lewd squelch that reaches his ears, pulling his hand out to hold it up in front of you. His fingers glisten under the TV light with your slick coating his knuckles, some dripping down onto his rings. You watch with lust-hooded eyes as he brings the soaked digits to his lips, making a show of licking up the length of them and swallowing every drop. Your cunt throbs, and you shift as his eyes meet yours.

And you don’t have to say anything because you already know, and before you know it, you’re dragging Eddie up the basement stairs with a racing heart and an aching center.

But what neither of you knows is Steve has been awake the entire time.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Heyy!! I love your blog and writing sm!!! I was wonderomg if you'd write somethjng with top/dom reader where the reader gets godly aftercare as well.. we need to normalize giving doms aftercare!! and your writing is my greatest comfort, finally someone writes for other than petite fem readers <333

Nanami Kento x male reader

Headcanons

You never specified which character you wanted me to write for, so I just picked one I felt would give amazing aftercare. Also cuz I don’t think many people realize I write for jjk.

Sorry ive been gone for a bit, but to no one’s surprise, classes are exhausting.

There are different kinds of aftercare, so it all really depends on what kind of dynamic you and Nanami have, and what you are in need of after. Nanami being as aware and loving as he is, would have an easy time figuring out what you need.

There might be times where all you need afterwards if to be held or to hold him, to know that he’s there and that Nanami still loves you and that he liked it very much. He is also the kind of person to have set up the different snacks or drinks you could need afterwards.

Knowing Nanami, he would probably even have some kind of small fridge to keep the drinks in, if it’s a cold drink you need to help center yourself after a rougher scene. If it’s a hot drink you need, he would make sure you were alright before going to get it.

Nanami is an efficient man, so it wouldn’t take long before he’s back again, your favorite mug in one hand, and the latest book he has been reading. Sometimes its enough to just sit together as he reads and you sip on whatever drink it is you need, and other times you need to just be held. Luckily for you, Nanami is a big guy, so that can also be done with no issue.

If its been a rougher scene and you need more than just some cuddles and a snack, Nanami would also be very on top of that. There is no way he would let the love of his life feel inadequate or gross about yourself.

There might be times where you think you are a horrible person because of the scenes you two do, or because of how rough you were, which could result in you pulling away or even having dom drop. But Nanami won’t let you sink too far, always pulling you back out of that dark pit before it gets to swallow you whole.

If you needed to cry, there would be no judgement from your lover, and if you just need to be alone, he would let you do that too. But hes gonna be setting up a nice shower or bath for when you are feeling better again.

Nanami has also always been a very honest guy, and believes strongly in communication in a relationship. So if what you needed was verbal reassurance, or to know how he felt, what you did right and what you did wrong, he would give it to you.

Communication wouldn’t just be for you though, since he himself also enjoys talking it over, to make sure you guys are both on the same wavelength and enjoyed it an equal amount. Sometimes talking about it in a more strategic manner could help center you both, and stop any spiraling thoughts or feelings.

It also wouldn’t be beneath Nanami to want to give you a rubdown if you were feeling a bit sore and exhausted. Sometimes its as much for him as it is for you, since it gives him a sense of peace to know that you are there, and that you are comfortable.

He probably has a whole routine he goes through if you are feeling too drained to move, or if you are feeling under the weather. Like wiping you both down before you get into the bath together, where Nanami would lovingly wash your hair and then his own. This is also where he would make sure you both are fine physically, just in case.

Nanami would get out of the bath first, letting you just vege out for a bit, as he goes to clean up the bedroom and get some new sheets and pillows on the bed, and getting out some clean sleep wear for you both.

You may have been the dom/top, but that doesn’t stop Nanami from taking care of you, as its something he loves to do on any day of the week, and if you need it after you guys have spent the night together you won’t hear any complaints.

After getting everything ready, Nanami would go back to help you out of the water, dry you off, and get you into the clothes you are comfortable in, before you two shuffle back to your room. And of course, he’s put the good sheets on the bed.

You’ll get a nice soft blush from him if you compliment him and thank him for all his hard work. He loves taking care of you the most, but that doesn’t mean Nanami doesn’t enjoy being praised and loved on by you too.

All in all, Nanami would know multiple ways to do aftercare, and is perspective enough to figure out what you need before you do. He would also never judge you for any kind of care you might need, as making you comfortable and happy always makes his heart flutter.

[syluscore]

Leon's Special Recipes

~neighbor! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

randomly had to write this at 3 am last night. definitely leaves space for a part two if anybody's interested, but i do ask for an idea on how it should go! how would you react in this situation?

Word count: 1068

Content warning: nonconsensual cum eating, male masturbation

!!!!!GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+! MINORS DNI!!!!!

“Hi, Leon! Come on in,” You open your front door wide for your neighbor. You live in adjacent townhouses, him living on the end so you’re his only true neighbor.

He steps into your entryway and kicks off his shoes. “So, what brings you here?” He pushes a plastic container into your hands. You open it up and are met with the sweet smell of cookies. “What’s all this?”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing really. Trying new things; new hobbies and such. Trying my hand at baking and needed a taste tester. Luckily for me, I have a neighbor with a sweet tooth.”

You aren’t looking at him as he speaks, rummaging around in the container of freshly baked sweets. “Oh my God! Chocolate chip?” You pull a cookie out and take a huge bite, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the sugar and gooey chocolate hit your taste buds.

You moan out happily and Leon can’t help but smile widely at you, while also shifting his hips to hide his hardening cock from the sounds you’re making–but that’s not important right now. 

You swallow the bite down quickly before taking another. You talk with your mouth full, doing your best to cover your mouth with your hand, but too excited to bother with proper manners. “These are amazing, Leon! How many did you make?”

“Oh, about a dozen. I did keep some for myself. If a man won’t eat his own product, then it’s not a product worth sharing,” He lies through his teeth. He made a half dozen cookies especially for you. They’re not for him, or anyone else at all for that matter. Only you.

You finish a whole cookie and lead him into the kitchen. “Thank you, Leon. That’s so thoughtful. These aren’t going to last long over here. Can’t control myself around sweets.” Perfect. Knew his girl was greedy and it’s working in his favor so nicely. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thinking about trying peanut butter, oatmeal, white chocolate, and sugar cookies. Gotta keep myself busy when I’m not working, you know?”

You reach into the container and pull out another cookie. “Sorry, my mouth started watering at the sound of all of those. You gonna stop at cookies or are you going to expand your baking resume into other goodies?”

He hums thoughtfully, “Maybe. You like cupcakes?”

You smile brightly at him, pure joy in your eyes, “I love them!”

He was hoping you would. He’s been looking at homemade frosting recipes and he thinks he could make a pretty good batch of it. It’d be easy to slip his secret ingredient into those. Yeah. Next time he’s at the store, he’ll buy them out of cupcake supplies. Gonna keep you fully stocked on them. 

“I’m glad we can help each other. I got someone to eat my treats and you get treats.” You nod your head as you nibble on your second cookie. “Anyway, sweetheart. Can’t hang around long, got an early morning tomorrow.” More lies. If he doesn’t get his hand around his cock within the next 5 minutes, he just might come in his pants. 

“Oh, of course. Let me walk you out!” You finish your cookie before walking over to the sink and washing your hands, drying them quickly on your pants before leading him back to the front door.

He’s slipping his shoes back on as you thank him again and he quickly heads out the door, for the safety and privacy of his own home. 

He practically slams his front door and locks it before his hands undo his belt, yanking his cock from his jeans and groaning out as his hand squeezes the base. 

He’s not sure where he read it online, or what he was even looking at to find such a thing. Probably a Reddit thread or some gross porn flick. But as soon as he got the idea to put his semen in food, he couldn’t keep himself from feeding it to you. 

He was constantly popping an erection the days leading up to baking your special cookies. But he kept from touching himself so he’d be loaded and desperate when it came time for your filling. When he was finally ready to add his come to the batter, all it took was a few strokes for him to shoot the fattest load he’s ever managed by himself. 

He quickly shoved his dick back in his pants as he stirred it in and poured them onto a non-stick pan. He was still so pent up, he was hard again before the cookies were even done baking. 

He made 6 average size cookies and 1 mini one. He didn’t really enjoy the idea of eating his own semen cookies, but he had to try it to make sure you couldn’t taste something off. He didn’t think it would make any sort of difference, he maintains an okay diet so he doesn’t taste half bad. But he needed to be thorough because he was desperate for this plan to work out.

And as soon as he popped that mini cookie in his mouth and started chewing, he knew you were going to love them. So many chocolate chips and sugar, it’s a sweets lover’s wet dream. He laid them out to cool while he cleaned up and by time the mess was gone, the cookies were cooled down enough to bring to you. So he cleaned himself up, packed up the cookies and walked over to your place.

Within minutes of returning to his own house, he’s leaned back on his couch, shirt stuffed in his mouth as he shoots more come across his abs. His mind is filled with the fresh memories of you eating your cookies and loving them. Thanking him for his special little treat for you.

And the next day when he runs into you on the way to your car and asks if you ate any more cookies, he’s super pleased when you tell him they’re all gone. Ate another before you went to bed. Got up in the middle of the night, tummy growling for another one. And then ate the last two for breakfast. He tells you he’ll get to work on your next batch and you giddily tell him you just can’t wait to try more of his yummy desserts. 

~masterlist~

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[catherinnn]

The Only One

Friends with benefits!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie is all sweaty and in need of a shower after playing around all afternoon with Dustin and Steve, you offer to join him on that shower.

warnings: SMUT +18, oral (f and m), fingering, p i v, lots of dirty talk, lots of cum play, just pure filth really. (lmk if I missed anything)

1.9k words. masterlist

It was a sunny day, mid-July, the kids were on vacation.

And this was noticeable since they were calling every. single. day. to hang out together.

Calling you, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Gareth, Jeff, anyone really. Someone would have to agree eventually!

Luckily for them, most of you agreed today. It was a really nice day outside.

The boys started to play and run around each other, as if they were 5— Steve and Eddie included —until the sun started to set, and you and the girls couldn’t sunbathe any longer.

You weren’t even wearing bathing suits, but the boys started to play like kids, so you just laid on the cut grass to chatand sunbathe.

“Shit, it’s hot today!” Steve complained as they all came back to where you were sitting.

“It’s not hot really, you’ve just spent the whole day running” Robin corrected him.

“Well, either way, I’m all sweaty now” he said as he walked right to where Robin was to give her a hug, just to annoy her.

“Get away from me! You disgusting dingus!”

“Fuck, I need a shower, I’m all sweaty too now” Eddie complained and he took off his shirt and he threw it at you just to bother you.

“This is not grossing me out, if that was your intended result” you warned him. The truth was, it was doing the exact opposite. Seeing Eddie heavy breathing, cheeks flustered from how hot he was, all sweaty, making his tattoos shine. Yeah, this was very very far from disgusting.

“Oh, it’s not? What is it causing then?” he asked with a daring tone.

“Quite the opposite actually” you said, walking towards him putting your hands on his arms, stroking him.

“Oh yeah?” he asked on a low tone only for you to listen.

“Yeah… actually, why don’t you let me join you in that shower?”

“Really?” he asked with a smirk.

“If you’d like”

“Oh sweetheart, it would be my pleasure”

And since you were on the woods next to the trailer park Eddie lived in, you didn’t have to wait much to get to that shower. You just said goodbye to everyone who kind of imagined why you were going with him.

They all pretty much knew about you situation with Eddie, this friends with benefits kind of deal. Well, obviously you didn’t tell the kids, but they figured out eventually that you two were more than friendly. Steve with Robin and Mike with Lucas and Dustin, all had bet that you two would end up together eventually.

As you two got to the bathroom, clothes started to come off. Your shirt and bra, sandals, shorts, panties. Same with Eddie’s clothes, all between heated kisses and caresses.

Eddie turned the water on and got in the shower first. Cold water getting warmer once it got to hit his skin, wetting his hair, taking all of his little drops of sweat with it.

You followed him, softly pushing him against the wall to also start to get wet. You kissed him, hands going straight to his hair, his went straight to your hips, pulling you even closer.

As you keep making out, your hands lower to his chest, to his belly, and his v-line, caressing him sensually. His hands grab your ass, squeezing it, silently asking you to keep lowering your own hands. But you pull away from him.

“Time to get you soaped up now” you say as you grab the slippery bar and start to slowly run it through his chest. You continue with just your hands, stroking his arms, his belly, and this time you actually do lower your hands more, you grab his cock and massage it, the soap making it easier. Eddie exhales out throwing his head back against the wall too. You stroke him until you feel all the soap has run off with the water, and then you get on your knees.

You kiss his cock, lick it and stroke it until you’ve had your fun messing with him. That’s when you put your lips around it, going up and down with your head.

“F-fuck yeah” Eddie moans and you feel one of his hands on your head, following your movements. “Just like that baby, your mouth feels so good”

You hallow your cheeks and stroke with a hand what you can’t reach with your mouth.

“Mphm” he moans again biting his lips. Your eyes looking up at him. If you thought he looked hot before at the woods, it’s cause you had forgotten how fucking hot he looked getting head: his head thrown back against the wall, eyes closed shut, heavy breathing, biting his lower lip but still letting small whimpers out.

“God baby, it feels so good” he moans and he opens his eyes to look down at you, only turning him up more, if that was even possible. Getting him closer to cum.

And that’s when you stop. You pull away and stand back up. Eddie understands what you mean, you want him to fuck you. But he wanted to play with you a little bit.

He grabs you and pushes you against the wall this time. He grabs the soap and rubs it slowly on your arms first, then your chest. He leaves the bar of soap to continue with his hands. He massages your breasts, pinching you nipples a bit to make you gasp, lowers to soap up your belly and he finally reaches where you need him the most. You feel two of his fingers touch your cunt, spreading your lips.

“You’re so wet, just from having my dick in your mouth baby?” he teases.

His fingers focus their pressure on your clit, rubbing it slowly, causing your body to send shivers down your spine.

He smirks watching you take the pleasure he’s causing you. He kisses your neck and with his other hand he squeezes and pinches your breast.

As he feels you getting closer and closer to your orgasm, he gets on his knees in front of you, puts one of your legs over his shoulder and quickly attaches his mouth to your clit, liking and sucking on it until you finally reach your high.

“Eddieee! Yes yes yes yes” you moan pulling on his hair and arching your back.

“Turn around, sweetheart” he says after getting up, leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck. “Ready?”

“Yes Eddie, please” you assure him once you’re facing the wall, hands on it, arching your back and turning your head to your side to see him. You feel the head of his dick through your folds, getting it wet with your arousal, to finally push it inside slowly, just to tease you a bit more.

“Oh sweetheart, you always feel so good around me, squeezing my cock” He praises you, grabbing your hips so hard probably leaving marks, moving faster now, harder.

“Fuck, Eddie” you can’t help but moan, trying to grab onto something but all your hands meet are the tiles on the bathroom wall. “God Eds! This feels so good- you always make me feel so good!”

“Yeah? You like how I make you feel, baby?”

“I love it!”

“Such a good girl, are you my good girl? Only mine, aren’t you?” he asks possessively.

“Yes! Only yours”

“Exactly, you’re my favorite girl, only one I want to be with” he praised you, not even realizing what he was saying. He just said what he felt and then this would be future Eddie’s problem to face.

But oh was this working for you. All his praising put you more into a headspace where all you could think of was Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie.

He realized this. He could feel you clenching around him, getting even wetter and making him move faster inside you because of this.

Your back arched like a cat, mouth opened into an O shape, eyes closed shut, clenching your fists so tightly that your fingernails split your skin open. But you didn’t feel the pain, didn’t even realized. All you felt was pleasure.

Eddie started stroking your clit to make the matters worse. And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” you begged.

“Oh you wanna cum? Am I making you that good? Show me baby, show me how good I make you feel? Cum for me”

And this was like a praise for him. Feeling you come undone around him, thanks to him. Listening to you screaming his name, screaming for him. Boosted his ego and his confidence and somehow it made him even more into you, more, more and more every time he made you feel this good.

He was holding you so tightly, one hand grabbing your hip and the other squeezing one of your breasts. Cock moving into you so good, squeezing him just right. He looked down to see where you two joined, seeing himself covered in your arousal and your cum. He felt like he was in heaven.

He couldn’t help but start moaning you name as well as cursing for how good you were making him feel.

“I’m almost there baby, I’m gonna cum for you”

“Mmh yes, Eddieee”

And he finally collapsed. You felt him filling you up.

You stayed a few minutes quietly like that. Eddie holding you close. Both calming down until you could breathe properly again.

He pulled out, and as soon as he did, he saw his cum running down on your thighs. And scratch what he thought before, this was heaven for him.  

He got on his knees and ran his tongue over your slit collecting your juices, tasting you two together.

This felt so dirty and so good. He started eating you out again and you used all the strength you had left to keep moaning, face against the wall but you felt so sensitive that he was able to make you feel good one last time for that night.

You finished showering- or… well, started actually showering now. He helped you out and wrapped you around a towel, then himself. You brushed each other’s hair, and got dressed.

“That was… just- perfect” you found the words to describe it once you laid on the couch, he suggested you stayed and watch a movie with him, and you couldn’t say no.

“It really was,” he said with a smile on his face “and I meant what I said, you are the only one I want to be with” he finished a little nervously.

“Really?” you asked with a smile and he nodded. “I feel the same, Eddie”

“Sweetheart, this friends with benefits thing was great, amazing actually. But I want to be more than that, you mean more than that to me” he confessed.

“Eds, I like you so much more than that” You told him and kissed him softly.

“Would you be my girlfriend? Please?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, I will” you returned the smile and kissed him again.

And let’s just say that now Robin and Mike were $20 poorer, and Steve, Lucas and Dustin $20 richer.

[literaila]

mama y/n should be fuckin it up in a club…. but she got three kids at home instead!!! does shoko ever take her out.. do they go drinking till the sun rises?? has y/n ever had the time to go crazy in her 20s?!

need an unhinged totally not sober y/n and gojo.. i know he loves her when shes in that state bc she has got to be more outspoken and bold about her feelings

“s’toru,” you whisper, a delirious smile on your face. “are you listening?”

satoru puts a hand on your back, steadying the slight sway you’ve got going on. so what if you’re a bit wobbly? at least you’re having fun.

or so you told him ten minutes ago when he asked if you were ready to leave.

“yes, baby,” he answers, after a moment, trying not to grin at your pout, or you in general. but a man is only so strong.

luckily you’re drunk enough not to notice. or drunk enough not to comment on it.

whichever it is, satoru is grateful for it.

“what’s up?” he prods, when you don’t continue whatever tangent you were going on. something about the prospects of living in outer space, or megumi’s math homework—he’s not sure.

“where’d everyone go?”

“home,” he answers, hand on his chin, leaning in close enough to hear you. “shoko doesnt like the crowds.”

you laugh, your face is sheen with sweat and your smile is infectious. “she just doesn’t like you.”

“she was my friend first,” satoru says, mock offended. “even wasted, you’re a bully.”

“i’m not wasted,” you frown, and sway, just a little bit more.

satoru nods unconvincingly. “okay, pina colada. drink this.” he moves his glass over to you, your heads just centimeters away.

it’s because he can’t hear you in here, okay? it’s because it’s very loud and he doesn’t want to miss any of your incessant mumbling—it’s got absolutely nothing to do with the proximity or the way the feeling of your breath against his cheek makes him feel.

just to clarify.

“what’s this?”

“water.”

“gross,” you say, but take a gulp anyway. then you sigh, maybe in relief, and look to him. “where’s your drink?”

“you just finished it.”

your eyes waver. “i’m sorry, s’toru,” you tell him, softly. you’re still leaning in and it’s still making him nervous.

but he’s smiling. he can’t seem to stop when he’s around you. “it’s okay, baby, it’s time to go home anyway.”

“no,” you whine, resting your head on the counter. “i’m having fun.”

“you can have fun in bed.”

“with you?”

satoru chokes, just briefly, and looks away—not because he’s blushing, but because… well, for other, private reasons. satoru doesn’t get flustered.

“you’re funny,” he says, and stands up. “i hope you don’t remember this in the morning.”

he pulls you up by your arm and you immediately relax into him, like a cat to the sun. “why?”

“‘cause you’ll avoid me for a week.”

satoru hopes he’ll forget the way it feels to have you like this, without the inhibitions.

“no,” you pout, looking up at him. “i would miss you too much.”

satoru softens. he wishes he could bask in this version of you—let your heart speak its forbidden wishes for a little while longer—but you told him that you didn’t want to stay out too late.

the kids will be home by early afternoon, at the latest, and megumi is a handful without a hangover.

“that’s why you should forget this,” he whispers, “so we don’t have to miss each other.”

“okay. whatever you think.”

that’s also a pleasant surprise—sober, rational you would never agree with anything he said.

“c’mon,” he tells you, holding the door open. “turn.”

satoru leads you to the car—slowly—watching your feet and ignoring the way you’re curling into him, the way you’re so close and so indifferent about it. he buckles you in, the feeling of your sweet breath on his neck, and closes the door softly.

as satoru settles in, he can feel you leaning against the seatbelt, resting your head on the window.

it might be better if you fall asleep, anyway. it might give him the space to breathe—the space to remember the careful boundaries you’ve taught him over the past four years.

not that they’ve ever mattered to him, not that he would push you away if—

“satoru?” you murmur, and he looks over, shocked that you’re not slurring his name.

“hmm?”

“will you stay with me tonight?” your eyes are shut tight, your arms tucked around your body. “when i go to sleep?”

“i…” satoru swallows. you’re not even awake. you’re not even yourself. “of course.”

“will you stay with me tomorrow, too?”

“yes, sweetheart. whatever you want.”

your lip quirks and you become even less visible to satoru. he can see you clearly—like he can see everything—but for this moment, he’ll pretend he’s just a normal man.

and you just a normal woman. just the same girl you were when he first knocked on your door.

“really?”

he nods, but you’re not looking.

and as satoru begins to drive away, he can almost feel the words, can hear them in the still of the car.

a soft, “i just want you,” tumbling from your lips. some wish you’ll never get.

but that might just be his imagination.

[shortbcofkoffee]

CW: Cursing, child abuse via parentification

Bruce didn’t cry. He never cried. Bruce whined and sulked, but he never cried. Tim hated it when Bruce whined and sulked. He hated when Bruce acted like a kicked puppy because he had to take care of him. Tim thinks Alfred is happy he doesn’t have to do it anymore. Bruce is well into his 40s; he shouldn’t need this. Either way, Tim is closing Bruce’s bedroom door behind him and turning to the man in bed.

“Alfred wants you to come to dinner.” Tim sits on the foot of the bed, placing a hand on Bruce’s calf. The man is facing away from him, lying down but not pretending to sleep.

“I’m fine.”

Tim sucks his teeth and furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce shrugs and curls into himself. 

Tim purses his lips. “C’mon, chum. You can tell me.” Tim swallows and his stomach twists. He tells himself that it feels numb on his lips. He’d says he’s long past feeling gross, disgusted with himself, as he gently runs his thumb back and forth over Bruce’s calf. Bruce needs this, he reminds himself. He needs me.

“It’s nothing, I just-... It’s nothing.”

Tim frowned, Bruce wasn’t usually one to share but still. “Is it a case?” He knew Jason had mentioned one. Something about a seemingly normal family leaving their kid with the Falcones before the parents were murdered. It wasn’t the type of thing to stress Bruce out but it was the only one Tim could think of. Bruce didn’t answer. “Okay, well, you don’t need to tell me. But let's get some food in you, yeah?”

Bruce shifted but made no attempt to get up. Tim sighed.

“Alright, chum, I’ll bring dinner to you. Just wait here.” Tim patted his leg and stood up.

“Thanks, Dad,” Bruce said as Tim reached the door.

His eye twitched. “Anytime.”

When he steps out of the dark bedroom, he’s Brother Tim, the Tim the rest of the Waynes like. He makes his way to the dining room where everyone is filing in. Luckily it wasn’t everyone tonight. Just Tim, Dick, Cass, Jason, and Damian. They all sat at the table in their unofficial spots. Tim usually sat between Bruce and Dick with Cass right across from him. He eyed his seat, thinking maybe he could ask Alfred to bring the plate. He wanted to sit down and eat. Dick raised an eyebrow as Tim passed his chair.

“You’re not gonna sit down?”

Tim shook his head. “I will in a minute, Bruce isn’t coming down so I’m bringing him food.”

Jason scoffed. “Why do you need to bring it, ask Alfred.”

God, he wanted to. “Alfred does enough, I’ll do it.”

He could feel their eyes as he quickly moved past them to the kitchen. Alfred is there, garnishing a casserole. The Butler meets his eyes and frowns.

“I assume Master Bruce has elected to stay in his room?”

Tim nods. “I’m gonna fix him a plate.”

Tim thinks Alfred knows because Alfred somehow knows everything. Maybe he doesn’t know how far it’s gone, but he knows. He also needs Tim, but not for himself like everyone else. He needs Tim for Bruce. 

Alfred hums. “Master Timothy, please come here. I want to show you something.” Tim stepped closer, watching as Alfred cut a perfect square out of his casserole. “Master Bruce has a very particular way he likes to be served. You’d do well to memorize it. All foods must be separated by one-third of an inch, vegetables should be opposite the meat. He drinks milk right after his water, if he plans to sleep right after dinner crush two valium pills and mix it well into his milk. If they’re fully dissolved he won’t notice the difference.”

Tim nodded along. God, this was so final. He already knew most of this but Alfred never took the time to actually teach him. It took the butler less than a minute to finish Bruce’s plate, he placed it on a tray with two glasses of milk and water. He handed Tim the tray and sent him on his way.

Tim felt eyes on him again as he passed back through the dining room. There’s a pang of anxiety in his chest telling him they know, they know. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they did. They’d be disgusted, disgusted with Tim for going along with this for so long. They’d think he’s a freak, that somehow he enjoys this. Tim doesn’t know how he’d handle it. 

The walk to Bruce’s room was quiet, the whole manor was quiet. Tim had mixed feelings about long, quiet halls. It meant he was alone; either for the moment or months on end. It was lonely but there was a freedom in that emptiness. He didn’t have responsibilities, he could do whatever, whenever, however. No one was watching him, he didn’t need to be anyone. Tim took a deep breath in. As long as he was in this hallway, he’d be fine. Unfortunately, he was only a few yards from Bruce’s door.

He balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door with the other.

“I’m coming in, chum.”

Bruce turned over in his bed and sat up. “What did Alfred make?”

“Hamburger casserole, broccoli, and turmeric rice. If you want dessert, though, you’ll have to come downstairs.” Tim placed the tray on Bruce’s lap. “Spend time with your kids.”

Bruce stared blankly at his food. “What’s for dessert?”

“Tiramisu, I think. Your favorite.”

Bruce nodded and started to eat. 

Tim ruffled his hair, letting Bruce lean into his touch for a moment. It’s… a lot. “Come down when you’re ready.”

Tim was two steps from the door when Bruce spoke again.

“Wait. Dad…”

Tim turned around and shifted his weight onto one leg. “What’s up, bud?”

Bruce didn’t meet his eyes and poked the food. “Recently I was made aware of… a situation.”

“Uh-huh.” Tim walked back to the bed next to Bruce.

“Jason has let me know about a development in a cold case involving the Falcones.” So he was right. “There was a child involved. I found him, he’s… traumatized. He saw them kill his parents, he told me and I just- I… He doesn’t want to leave the Falcones. He told me he loved it there, they were nice to him. And I just left him. He wouldn’t come with me, he fought so much, I left him.” 

Tim pouted. “I’m sorry that happened, bud. You think you’ll go back for him?”

Bruce leaned onto Tim’s shoulder. “Jason said he’d deal with it. I just wish I did some more. I could’ve, I can, I just. It’d be encroaching on Jason’s territory. Where they’re keeping him. I should do something. I can.”

Tim wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulder and scratched his scalp. It felt weird, warm. Bruce had probably washed it earlier, poorly, but at least it was washed. “Yeah, Jason has been on edge with you hasn’t he?” Bruce nodded. “It’ll be alright, bud. Jason can handle this, and besides, this case could be a lot for you. I think you should sit this one out instead of beating yourself up about it.” Tim unwrapped his arm. “Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Good. I’m gonna go eat dinner, you can come down for dessert.”

Tim finally got away, slipping off the bed and out the door. When Tim steps outside the room again and walks a few feet before leaning against the wall. He pressed his forehead against the red wallpaper and placed a hand over his stomach. He doesn’t want to touch anyone ever again. His stomach is churning with that familiar weird feeling. It’d go away soon, a few minutes to a few days, but it’d go away. This wasn’t weird. This isn’t- Bruce needs this, he needs this. As long as Bruce needed him, Tim would be there. He couldn’t just abandon Bruce. His hand gripped his shirt and he took a deep breath. He was okay. Tim stood up straight and walked back to the dining room.

He slid back into his seat next to Dick and Bruce’s empty chair. Alfred already put his plate out, just how he liked. Tim looked around the table at the subtle differences on the other’s plates. He wondered if they noticed and if this would be his life from now on, learning the specific ways he needed to care for everyone. If it’s like that he’s happy only Bruce needs him. He was prepared for a few questions, it’d be weird if he didn’t get any. Bruce’s kids would be worried about him even if they hated to admit it.

“You’ve been fussing over the old man a bit much lately,” Jason started.

“I guess,” Tim shrugged as he began to eat. Had it been more than usual lately? It felt a little less frequent. 

“Is he okay?” Dick asked.

Tim frowned. “He’s upset about a case.” He nodded at Jason. “One of yours, actually. About the kid with the Falcones. He’s eating himself up because he wants to help the kid but he doesn’t want to piss you off. I told him you could handle it.”

“Thank God,” Jason huffed. “That asshole keeps straining my alliances every time he steps foot in the alley.”

“How old is the kid? We don’t need him trying to take another kid in,” Dick joked.

That seemed to satisfy the table as they all went back to eating and their individual conversations. Mainly small talk and meaningless arguments, Tim wanted to contribute but he still felt weird. He felt awful. The food didn't settle the churning in his stomach, unfortunately, the feeling was here to stay. Begrudgingly, his thoughts wandered back to Bruce. What would he need next? When? He could feel the man’s hair on his hand still. It was warm and a little greasy from product that hadn't been washed out. Tim roughly swallowed. He didn't like this feeling. He should be grateful, if it wasn't for this he wouldn't be needed here. Of course, he was CEO of Wayne Enterprises but his professional relationships weren't fulfilling enough to replace personal ones. He needed Bruce to feel useful. Bruce needed him to feel better. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t disgusting. Tim was okay with it.

He didn't want to finish his dinner. He didn't want to be here when Bruce came down for dessert. Oh God, he’ll probably have to put him to bed if he’s still upset after dinner. He stood with his only half-empty plate and started to the kitchen. Cass grabbed the back of his shirt and tapped him twice, asking where he was going.

“Ah, I'm done eating. Wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

Cass frowned but waved him off but Dick stopped him too. 

“Hold on, Timmy, dude, you barely ate.”

“I'm not hungry,” he reiterated. “And besides, I have a meeting with some shareholders tomorrow, I need to prepare.” A lie so quick it surprised even him. “Do you want my food?”

Before Dick could answer Damian slammed a hand on the table. “Drake! Give me your vegetables!”

Tim quickly dumped his food on Damian's plate and walked to the kitchen. Alfred was still there, preparing dessert, and to Tim’s luck, it was actually Tiramisu. So now he didn’t accidentally lie to Bruce. 

“Should I throw this out or keep the leftovers?” He asked Alfred.

The old man looked between him and the plate a few times. “You only ate one thing.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just place it on the counter, I’ll deal with it.”

Tim muttered a thanks as he did and left. Unfortunately, always unfortunate for Tim Drake-Wayne, Bruce was there. Smiling at his kids, carrying his tray to the kitchen. Tim didn’t have to look closely at Bruce anymore. Every line crinkle was there whether he liked it or not. He could read Bruce’s face better than anyone he knew and he hated it. Bruce’s smile faltered a little when he was Tim but no one seemed to notice. It wasn’t weird , he reminded himself. He brushed past Tim with a “hey.” The interaction was short and impersonal but it didn’t make the feeling go away. Tim left the dining room. Bruce would probably go to the cave tonight, to look over whatever he’s working on. By tomorrow morning only Dick would be back in Bludhaven and Cass and Jason would be back at their apartments. Tim hoped he wouldn’t have to scold Bruce for staying up too late. 

Tim’s lungs felt light like the air was barely tickling them. He wanted to sleep, he’d set an alarm for three and if Bruce was still up he’d drag him to bed. Soon enough he was in a quiet hallway again. Just alone with no one watching. He jumped as high as possible, fingers barely touching the high ceiling. Tim liked being alone for these small bits of time when he felt like this. It gave him just a little release when he did little things with no one else around. He jumped again. He wants to go on patrol. He wants to jump from building to building and breathe in the night air. He should do it soon, tomorrow maybe.

Tim reached his room, set his alarm for three, and let himself relax into his pillow. Bruce has been better lately, this case was gonna be a huge setback, especially if it involved Jason. Tim hated to say it because it wasn’t true but every problem he had with Bruce was because of Jason. Tim knew it wasn’t fair to blame him, he had no stake in how Bruce would mourn him, but if he never died in the first place… That was so unfair. It made Tim feel disgusting for even thinking that. Bruce wasn’t entirely to blame either, no one is how they mourn. Tim took the role of caretaker quickly and easily, it was a lot, especially for a thirteen-year-old, but Tim could take it. Tim could take everything. He did and will.

Tim didn't know when he fell asleep or if he had a dream but the alarm clock on his bedside table was screaming. Tim groggily rolled over and hit it off. If Bruce wasn't in the cave Tim could go back to sleep sooner. If he was, Tim would have to drag him to bed. Bruce needed as much sleep as possible, the holidays were coming up and that always put Batman on overtime. Tim got out of bed and dragged himself over to Bruce’s room, but of course, he wasn't there. Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He found his way down to the cave and followed the sound of typing to the Batcomputer. 

“It's late.” Tim came up behind Bruce.

“I'm working.”

“And you'll have time to work tomorrow. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you wake up.” He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “C'mon let's get you to bed.” 

Bruce made no effort to move and Tim leaned on his shoulder. 

“I’ll go to bed soon.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, bud, I’m not going to sleep until you do. And I’m tired.”

“No one is asking you to do that.”

“I know you’re tired too. You’re not at your best when you’re tired, you could slip up and miss something.”

“I won’t. I slept yesterday, I’ll be fine.”

Fair, Bruce could easily stay awake for three to four days without shutting down. Unfortunately, with the aforementioned holidays, sleep would be few and far between. “Yeah, well I’m not asking. We’re going to bed.” Tim looked up at the screen. “What are you even working on?”

“I told you. The case with the Falcone kid. I haven’t updated the report yet.”

“I thought I told you to let Jason deal with it.”

“I can help.”

“He doesn’t want your help.” 

Bruce paused his typing for a moment before resuming. “Did he tell you that?”

“I told him that I told you to let him deal with it. He didn’t thank me but he was appreciative.” Tim pulled away from Bruce’s shoulder making the man twitch. “Besides, I don’t want you working this case. It won’t be good for you.”

Bruce just grunted, an unintelligible one that meant he was acknowledging but ultimately ignoring you. It’s like a toddler throwing a quiet tantrum.

“You know I’m right. C’mon, chum, let’s go to bed,” he tried again. The man didn’t answer. “Okay?” He said with more force. Bruce silently saved the report he was working on and logged off. “Thank you. See that wasn’t so hard.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Bruce grumbled. 

“Mm-hm.” Tim held out a hand and pulled Bruce from his chair.

Bruce held onto his hand as they started to walk, he seemed like he needed it. He didn’t let go until they were halfway to his room. Bruce, for someone who craved it so much, hated physical affection. He only accepted it from certain people. Alfred was one since he raised him practically by himself. His kids, obviously, he’d never turn down a hug from one of them, he actually hoped for it. Though Tim had never personally seen it, according to others Bruce didn’t seem to mind being touched by Clark Kent. Lastly, there was Tim. Tim was the only person Bruce reached out to first for affection. Usually just a hand on his shoulder or arm but sometimes Bruce wanted a hug or a hand to hold. It was always over quicker than it happened when Bruce acted first. 

Once he got Bruce to his room it was 3:14. He could still get a good amount of sleep and still be good in the morning. He yawned as he walked the dark halls back to his room. Sleep would be good, Bruce was exhausting. TIm just wanted to melt into his pillow and disappear forever. Tim jumped, almost yelped as he turned a corner and came face to face with a mop of white and black hair. Jason stared at him quietlywith his jaw locked in anger. Neither of them spoke but Jason nodded in the direction of the library. Jason was here, why was he here? Tim hadn’t noticed him come in so it must’ve been when he was dealing with Bruce. 

Oh, God, had he seen him with Bruce? The seeing wasn’t the hard part Tim knew how to lie and deflect. He could say that he asked Bruce to hold hands. It wouldn’t explain why it looked like he was guiding Bruce but it was a start. The hearing was the bad part. If Jason had heard the end of their conversation Tim doesn’t know. An inside joke maybe? That was the only thing Tim could think of at the moment. He bit his lip nervously. The disgusting feeling was back. His hands and feet felt heavy. Tim was tired, he just wanted to sleep.

“Why are you here?” He asked nervously.

“Left my commlink in the cave. Came back to get it,” Jason said.

“Ah.”

So he was in the cave. When they entered the library Jason sat down in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for Tim to sit across from him.

“The fuck was that?” Jason started.

“What was what?”

Jason leaned forward and sighed. “Okay. Are you… okay?” He asked through gritted teeth.

The question felt weird coming from Jason. “Fine. Why?”

“I heard you talking to Bruce.”

Tim is pretty sure all the color left in his face drains. He’s pretty sure Jason noticed it too. “Oh.”

“So are you okay?”

Tim pinched his fingertip with the opposite hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just- just forget what you heard, okay? It’s nothing weird, just an inside joke, y’know?” Tim feels a little stupid for deflecting immediately. He could’ve played it off better, but the mental exhaustion was getting to him.

“It didn’t sound like a joke.”

Tim pinched harder, sinking his nails into his skin. “Then you misread the situation.”

Jason leaned back, splaying his arms over the back of the chair. “Alright humor me. What’s the joke then.”

“If I explained it it wouldn’t be very “inside” anymore. It’s private.”

“Kay, so how long have you and him had this private “joke.””

Tim grimaced. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not. Just answer.”

Tim scoffed. “Why do you care? It’s a joke me and Bruce have, that’s it.”

“Why do I-?! Why do I care?! You know I kill abusers?”

Tim took a deep breath in and rolled his eyes. “Don’t call it abuse just because you think it’s weird. I get it, you don’t buy the joke thing but that’s all it is.”

Jason was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh my God, is that why he listens to you? Because you have this dad thing going on?”

Tim’s stomach churned. God, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to run away and hide under his cover until this was all over. “Nothing’s going on, leave it alone.”

“Listen, I’m trying to help you.”

Jason? Help Tim? When he was the reason for this in the first place? Tim couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “Yeah right. I don’t need any help, it’s fine. If it makes you feel better, I started it, not Bruce.”

“So, what, you started calling Bruce “ chum” and shit.” Tim almost gagged. “And he just went along with it?”

“It’s complicated, okay? Bruce needs someone to deal with him.”

“Why not Alfred? That’s literally his job.”

“It’s different-”

“Is it? Alfred’s practically raised him and I don’t see Bruce calling him dad.”

“It’s different,” Tim repeated. “You weren’t there, you don’t know.”

“Okay then explain it. I’ve got all night.”

Tim clenched his jaw and glared at Jason. “I’m going to bed.” He started to stand but a throwing knife stuck into the bookshelf behind him, barely missing his head.

“Sit. Explain.”

Tim sat back down. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“When did this start?”

“Four or five years ago.”

Jason hummed. “That’s what you meant by I wasn’t there. Alright then, why is he calling you dad?”

That one was loaded. Tim wasn’t a psychic, he couldn’t read Bruce’s mind. He only had his best guess. “He likes to be parented. Talking to him like he’s a teenager sometimes helps when you need him to do something. Like shower or eat.”

“So… you act like his dad because he’s an overgrown teenager.”

“No. He only acts like that when he’s depressed, or stressed, or wasted.”

“Bruce doesn’t drink.”

“Not when you guys are around. He used to drink himself stupid after you died. That’s also why it’s me and not Alfred. Alfred was grieving too, Bruce wasn’t something he needed to deal with.” 

“So you took Alfred’s place.”

“Only when he needed it.”

“But it never stopped. You’re still doing this weird shit just to make him feel better.”

“He still needs me. I can’t abandon him.” Tim shifted uncomfortably.

“Tim, you’re 17, Bruce isn’t your responsibility.”

“He is. I need to take care of him. You don’t understand, you don’t get how bad he needs me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. He’s grown, he doesn’t need you.”

“Well he does, okay? And I’ll do it until he stops needing me.”

“Do you think of him as your son?”

Tim was silent. He didn’t like to, it made him feel gross to say it so he’d never actually verbalized it before. “It… can make it easier.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t get you. Both of you know how fucked up this is, you kept it a secret this whole time. You’re clearly feeling shitty about it, you just never said anything. He’s not threatening you, is he?”

“He’s not threatening me, I just… He needs me. That’s all there is to it.” Tim was tired. He wanted to go to bed. “We didn’t tell anyone because we knew you would react like this. You’d think it was weird.”

“It is.”

“You’re not even making an effort to understand. You don’t get it.”

“Oh, believe me, I get it. I get all there is to get. Tim, I’m sure you know this, but I don’t like you. I think you’re a stain and you never should’ve been Robin. But I’m on your side, I’m trying to help you . Because I’m supposed to protect people like you.”

“I’m not a victim, Red Hood, I’m telling you, I’m just taking care of him.”

“You don’t need to.”

“We’re talking in circles. It’s fine if you don’t get it, just don’t tell anyone and keep it alone. Me and Bruce are fine, this has worked for years. If I left Bruce wouldn’t be able to pick himself up again. I can take care of him as long as he needs me.”

“Do you want to?”

Tim rubbed his arm. He didn’t, he liked feeling needed but he didn’t want to do this. But that’s how it was, it was how Bruce needed him. Since he couldn’t, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Yeah.” He felt disgusting.

Jason raised his hands in surrender. “Then I’ll leave it alone. But if I find out something I don’t like, I’ll act. Trust me, I will.”

Tim finally pushed himself out of the chair. “Thank you. I’m going to bed, it’s late.”

Jason stayed behind in the library leaving Tim alone in the long dark hallway. He was alone again, he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding before his chest sank again. Oh God, someone knew. Jason knew, probably the last person Tim wanted to know. Jason had called Bruce an abuser and threatened to kill him. That’s the last thing Tim needed. He wanted to sleep, he should sleep.

.

Read the rest here and read the fic that inspired it here

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 12.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurt/comfort-esque, trauma, smut, dry-humping, make-out, dubcon (both have alcohol in system)

A/N. oh thats not

-> MASTERLIST.

“Stay,” 

Your voice is wobbly and weak. There’s silent tears flowing down your face. Even so, Atsumu feels nothing but rage. He can’t console you, no.

“please,”

He wants to go, to rip his hand away from yours. To find that asshole and beat him down. Your eyes are pleading with him. 

“Y-You can’t even do anything, it’d be bad for you,” for your career. He knows.

Which is why he reluctantly sits back down, but also why the menacing look on his face is yet to fade. 

“Fuck,” he stresses, running his hand through the middle of his hair. 

He doesn’t even know why he’s so upset. Is it because you’re hurt? Is it because someone got to you before he did? His head hurts with these thoughts. Mostly because he just doesn’t know. 

Atsumu watches as you lay back down. Hiccupping as you bury your face back into the pillow.

You make everything so fucking confusing. He’s supposed to hate you. He wants to. Every day he plans on being angry, to ignore you. But as soon as he sees you, it feels like all those walls crumble down, and he ends up being the one who wants to be noticed by you.

It’s gross. He doesn’t want to date you. Doesn’t think so at least. He doesn’t even like you like that. Maybe Atsumu is just protective of you. Perhaps, he feels like he owes you for being so fucked up towards you for so long.

That’s definitely it.

At least that’s what he’ll continue to tell himself.

———

When you wake up, everything from the night prior is a blur. You were at a bar. You talked to someone. Then you were outside. Then you were in. Then you danced. Then Gora. 

The only thing you did know was that you absolutely do not remember falling asleep with Atsumu Miya.

When you see the mop of blonde laid beside you, you instantly prop yourself up, a strong pain in your head following right after. You let a noise slip out, and curse you because a groan from the man beside you came right after.

You debate to slip out of bed, but before you’re able to, his voice catches you.

“Are you alright?” 

The words catch you off guard, but yet they make you feel somber. You feel your face soften. He’s genuine.

“Um, yeah,” you look around, “why are you in bed with me?” 

Atsumu looks confused. “Do you not—” he stops, “You asked me to, do you not remember?”

You shake your head no almost immediately. 

His facial expressions look frantic, “Look, I’m sorry,” he moves to get up, “did you want to leave early? We don’t have to go today, we made our presence known enough,”

“No— it’s okay, I-I’m sorry,” you start, “You were just trying to help, right?” 

He nods slowly, eyes reassuring you as much as they possibly can.

You sigh, untucking your legs and slipping out of the bed. “I’m gonna get ready,”

———

The two of you fall into this pattern throughout the day. Short responses, the nodding of the head. It’s as casual as casual gets.

And you feel okay with it. 

You and your high school bully walking through a volleyball convention and chatting it up with other pretty famous men. Just where you imagined yourself being during high school.

It’s scary how easy it is to get through the day, it almost makes you forget what happened the day before. Luckily, Gora was nowhere to be seen. More like thankfully, though.

Before you know it, you find yourself alone with Atsumu at the bar.

“Are you ready for the playoffs?” he asks, playing with the rim of his cup.

“Mm,” you shrug, “I’m nervous but probably not as nervous as the rest of you,”

Atsumu nods, “Yeah, s’not the first rodeo for the majority of us, though,”

You laugh before noticing his face becoming more sad looking. You’re about to ask when he starts,

“So,” there’s a hesitant pause, “are you going to tell the coach what happened? Or- anyone?” 

It takes you aback a bit, a lot, because not even you know. You remember vaguely what happened, but at the same time it feels like you can’t recall it precisely. Another thing is, who would believe you?

You’re almost nobody around here. He’s a D1 volleyball player with a career to live up to, while you’re just more or less a side character that isn’t relevant unless you were to google who the Jackal’s manager was. Which, maybe you wouldn’t even pop up still. 

Not sure as to what to say, you give him a meek, “I don’t know,”

Atsumu nods at this, you can tell he wants to push, but instead he gives you a soft tap.

“Are you okay? Like genuinely,” he questions, “We don’t have to talk about it— but I’m here,”

It sucks because if it happened to you while you were alone, it’d be so much easier to cope with. But he was there too. He witnessed part of it, and even heard it from you firsthand in your drunken state. 

But maybe you can take advantage of his kindness. Either way he already knows, holding back won’t change anything.

“Yeah, I’m whatever,” you mumble, “It’s partly my fault, I should’ve just listened to you,”

“It was not your fault. He’s just an asshole and if we happen to cross paths he’ll get what’s coming,” he’s angry as he says that.

You quickly shake your head, “Please don’t, that’s the last thing I need,”

Atsumu sighs before taking another sip from his cup, defeated. He takes in the forlorn look on your face, “Well then, do you want another round, or?”

You give it a quick thought before giving Atsumu a light smile, “Sure,”

———

It feels like it’s been a while since the last time you’ve been a “good drunk”. It seems like shit has always gone down every other time you’ve drank. But for once, the buzz is nice and light. It makes you smile uncontrollably as you make your way to the bed, face first into the comforter.

“Y/N, get your shoes off,” Atsumu calls from behind you, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it on the floor to set up his own little bed.

“Nooo,” you moan, flipping yourself over to stare at the ceiling. 

Atsumu rolls his eyes before loosening the strap of your shoes so they easily roll off. “And your jacket, it’s hot,”

“Heelp,” you plead.

“Just do it,” he mutters, grabbing the spare blanket and adding it to his makeshift cushion on the ground.

You moan and groan, rolling around in bed to try and maneuver your jacket off. But to no avail. You feel sweaty until two big hands help work your arms out of the sleeves. His face is way closer than you remember, he was feet away from you but now you feel his breath waft down your chin.

Your mind is trying to tell you to go, to stop. Deep down you know you shouldn’t be doing what you feel your body is about to do. Your eyes meet with his, and everything feels like slow motion. Way too slow.

This is Atsumu Miya. Your head is pleading and begging with you. But you can’t help it. His eyes meet yours, then trickle down to your lips, then back up to you again. 

Then his lips meet yours before you even know what’s going on. You’re not sure if you initiated or if he did. All you can tell is that the kiss is hot and warm. It’s not like him at all. It feels like kissing him makes you forget about all of the past.

Atsumu slides his hand to your waist, his thumb soothing the skin in the area. Your hand has a mind of its own as it reaches to the back of his head, grabbing a tuft of it and pulling him impossibly closer. 

He uses the hand on your waist to guide himself to your heat. He’s hard.

“Atsumu-,” you start, breathing hard as you try to catch it.

“We don’t have to,” he cuts you off, eyes genuine as he looks into your own, “this is only if you want to,”

The scary part is that part of you wants to. You’ve already gone this far, and you can feel yourself heating with the want for relief.

All you’re able to muster is a nod to him to continue. And he does. 

He guides his clothed length along the wetness of your panties, rubbing himself against it.

A noise nearly slips out of you as the friction rubs against your clit. Your hands grab harshly at him wherever they can, pulling him closer into another kiss. It’s messy and noises slip out of you into him.

All your senses are heightened, on end. Your mind is so befuddled you can’t produce any coherent thoughts, just him.

His pace against you quickens, and you squeal as you cum, soaking your panties and coating the outer layer of his slacks. Atsumu is shortly behind you, releasing all over himself. 

“Fuck,” he groans, head limp in defeat. 

Your climax causes you to sober up, your eyes fixated on the mess between your legs. You’re scared because you definitely shouldn’t have that.

It’s unprofessional and most importantly, it was with Atsumu. 

You can feel the beat of your heart quicken with anxiety. He notices this, using a finger to lift your chin to meet his eyes.

“We can forget about this, alright?” he starts, “what happened in this room will stay here,” 

All you manage is a nod.

“Let’s get cleaned up and sleep since we have to be up early. I’ll sleep on the floor again,” is what he leaves you with before lifting himself off you and heading to the bathroom.

As you lie there in the heat of your mistake, all you can think about is what you were going to do now. 

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[dekusdante]

Well it's that time again for another JJK rant.

So by this point I would assume that most of you know my eternal hatred towards the enemies to lovers trope when it comes to Gojo x reader stories right.

Well we are back at it again cause I am hoping people know that this type of relationship isn't one that Gojo would ever go for. Like it's one of those things that the fandom latched on to like My Hero Academia Hawks being a flirty playboy. It's not something that fits the character but it something that so many people latched on to that they now believe that it's a thing.

Like Gojo knows his worth and value. He literally dislikes those that he views as stuck up or just down right unlikeable. Aka every reader in the enemies to lovers trope. Like you are telling me you hate this guy for no reason but it's okay because your only saving grace is that he finds you attractive.

Seriously.

That is the how 95% of them go. Also to even it out they would make Gojo do some out of pocket stuff to justify the reader treating him like dirt while also always making him the bad guy even if he did nothing wrong.

I am so sick of this copy and paste trope. Now I know i don't have to read it which I don't. If I see it I keep scrolling. Although there are gems I sadly just skip past them because I'm used to the bad and boring ones. (Lowkey reminds me of the dumbest Gojo x reader story on wattpad called Debt. Freaking dumbest reader/mc I have ever read couldn't even get past the first few chapters. The first and only time this has happened)

Another thing is bad reverse harem stories. Like I don't care the reader is 18! Why are men close to their 30s trying to have a relationship with them? Why is said 18 year old trying to have a romantic relationship with freshly turned 15 year old? Look 18 maybe considered an adult but it's still gross and it would have been better if the reader was 20 and up. Also if you want your reader to have love interests that are 15 then they should at least be under 18.

I am sick of gross age gaps, don't care if you are 20 years old dating a 30, 40, or whatever just make it legal! 18 isn't a cheat code!

Also harems suck since they either end up with no one, end up with someone not in the harem, or worst not even completed. Yet, the biggest crime is as I said it before the gross 18 year old cheat code.

Finally the last of my random rant which has to deal with genders and sexyal orientation. Stop writing about boy x boy if you are only going to stereotype them. Yes gay mean may like to be more of the feminine side but NOT all of them. Not all males who prefer to be a bottom want to wear feminine clothes and act like a femboy.

Not all trans people want to be just a title! Don't include them if you are not even going to try! Same with the non binary or gender neutrals. Don't include them but give traits that have a gender that goes against their stances. It's wrong.

Also I lied this is my final rant. Stop saying it's a reader story if you are not going to be neutral. For example giving a reader appearances that instantly alienate a reader. Sure I understand fem reader or male reader tags but to then give them hairstyles, skin tones that alienate others, or ect. I'm a POC (Person of color) and it sucks when you are reading something and instantly shown you are not included. Luckily the anime community is slowly but surely getting more inclusive. No I'm talking about those that want to read reader stories from fandoms like The Boys (Scarlett Witch took over i swear) or (Squid Games I know it's in Korea but dang why can't I be american?).

Anyway that's all. I would love to read and possibly reply to comments. Some may agree others not so much which is far I am criticizing something so it's 100 okay to throw it back!