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rreids · 1 month

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BE GOOD TO ME • A. HOTCHNER X READER

__ used in place of reader's name; age gap (both legal, unspecified, hotch implied to have worked with the reader's father); fem!reader; alcohol consumption; fluff; angst (i'm v bad at it, apologies); fears of abandonment; hotch is a bit insensitive at times; no jack or haley (assumed they have the same issues with his work & broke up pre-fic); sexual tension; has a nsfw section, skip from: (“Okay, they’re shut,” -> "I'll stay." if you are a minor or don't like smut; ~5k words; a poorly written ending, honestly; an (early!!!) birthday present for @hotchfiles (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) smut warnings: dom!hotch (nothing intense), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (do not copy them <3), oral (m receiving).

Moving was always a hassle.

Stressful, tiring, made tensions high — the works. It took the better part of your first day in Quantico to move in, and you could only settle onto your new couch (courtesy of your father, who’d worked in Narcotics at the FBI early on in his career, and was more than excited to find out that you wanted to move there) when the sun was thirty minutes from setting.

“Yes, yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I only had thirty more minutes of unpacking when you were leaving,” you click on speaker phone and lean your head back, sighing as you try to work a cord in your neck. “I’ll say hi to my neighbors tomorrow. Yes. Yes, I’m going to eat. The food you gave me to put in the fridge. I have my first day at the café tomorrow, I’ll get groceries then.”

He rambles for a bit and you close your eyes, letting him talk and talk. It’s nice. You know he worries.

“Ok, Dad, I got it. I’ll contact Gideon if anything comes up, and I’ll ask around for his team or wife — girlfriend? — if he’s busy. I love you, but I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Okay? Yeah. Thank you. Bye-bye,”

He hangs up first, knowing you hate to be the one to click it.

You sigh and stretch, tossing the phone down on the cushion. By the time you gain the energy to stand and go to the fridge, there’s a ring of your doorbell.

You’re not expecting anyone, so you approach cautiously, peering through the peephole. It’s a man, older, but you can’t place by how much, standing with his hands in his pockets.

You crack the door, keeping the secondary lock in place. “Hello?”

“Good evening,” his voice has a nice husk to it. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. My name’s Aaron, I’m your neighbor. Wanted to ask if there’s any groceries or anything I could bring you, something to help you get settled or maybe you forgot to pack for the move…?”

You eye him warily.

“I was going to make cookies but I can’t bake.”

You chuckle. “Um, I think I’m okay. Are you handy, by any chance?”

“A little. I can do stuff around the house.”

“Then,” you pause, looking at his eyes. “Is there a chance I can get your number? You know, so if there’s any issue I can call you to come round and take a look,”

“Sure,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’m a little busy sometimes, though, so it might take me a few days to get around to stopping by.”

You nod and quickly undo the inner latch and open the door more fully. “That’s alright, I don’t expect you to drop your life because I can’t fix a leaking faucet. Can you wait here while I grab my phone?”

He nods, looking respectfully at only the foyer and not further into your new home, carefully avoiding focusing on the stacks of boxes you haven’t gotten to unpacking (full of knick-knacks and unimportant things that you decided could wait to be put on display).

It doesn’t take long to save each other’s contacts, and while there’s no more excuse for him to be on your stoop, you want to talk to him more. “Do you have anyone to eat dinner with?”

Subtle, your inner voice snarks back.

“No,” he smiles sadly, bitterness to it. “Just me.”

“Well, it’s just lasagna to reheat, but if you’d prefer to not eat alone…”

“I’d love that…?”

“__,” you smile. “Come on in, Aaron. I’ll get you a plate.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

Work goes well, getting adjusted is easy.

You make friends with your coworkers and a few regulars, go out a few times and find a group of girls you mesh with.

Then again, you were a pretty sociable person, always trying to smile and improve people’s days. It was partially why you didn’t absolutely hate service work. There was a silver lining to every interaction.

Aaron was nice, too.

You’d had an issue with water pressure when you finally (after much longer than you’d like to admit) got your new shower head attached, and he’d come over and let his dress shirt get soaked while he fixed it for you.

Whenever you ask about work, he dances around anything more than telling you “FBI” and that he “travels a lot”, but you didn’t mind too much. Everyone has their secrets, and you knew your dad had seen some terrible things.

You can only imagine what Aaron has seen.

He was good company, had a dry and witty humor that you never expected, kind eyes and a gentle smile you were lucky to see despite his tiredness, and, well, he was handsome.

You weren’t against eye candy, even if you didn’t know much personally about him. It took a week to learn how old he was, and a few days while was gone for work for you to reconcile that he was old enough to have worked with your father when he was at Narcotics.

It’s been two weeks since you’d last seen him, but he calls, voice exhausted and rough, raw, even, from what seems to have been an emotional case.

“Aaron?”

He hums, sighs on the other side of the line.

“Everything okay?”

“Just tired,” he doesn’t explain more. “Can you keep talking?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” you can’t help the way your brow furrows in concern about how worn-out he sounds. “Well, I can tell you about my job. I’m not nearly as secretive, Mr. FBI,” you tease, and he exhales — a softer, happier one.

And so you do, rambling about different coffees, trying desperately to coax him into trying a latte (he refuses every single time you try to tell him he’d like one, but assures you there’s someone on his team who has equal amounts of sugar and coffee in his — you’re sure he’s exaggerating, the sugar would be too much for almost anyone — who would love to try your drink combos); telling him about regulars and new customers, the music that played, if there’s a song you know he’d like; really, anything you can think of.

“When do you get back?”

“We’ve landed, I’m back.” There’s more shuffling than there had been on his end, papers sliding and the crackling connection as he moves the phone before bringing it back to his ear. “Just finishing some paperwork.”

“Is it stuff that can’t be seen?”

“No. It’s not confidential.”

“Do you want to do it at your house, then? Or visiting my place. I made pasta and steak, I can heat some back up for you. I’m sure you haven’t been eating well when you’re chasing down bad guys, or… whatever you do when you’re gone, I’m not sure exactly.”

Aaron chuckles. “Thanks, __. Give me thirty minutes?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to stay on the line?”

He hesitates.

“No. No, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a little while.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

He takes closer to forty-five minutes, but you expected something to take a bit longer than he said. And it’s not a bother. Really, it was welcome because it let you run out to the store and buy a nice wine (you hoped he likes red), and reheat the food better than just by the microwave.

When he knocks, you try not to scurry over too quickly and to temper your smile. “Come in,”

Aaron smiles tiredly at you, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He hangs up his suit jacket and loosens his tie slightly.

He looks at the table and his brows raise. “Wine?”

“I figured you could use something to unwind,”

“Sounds lovely.”

You can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he just doesn’t like red, doesn’t want wine, or what, and is being polite but you don’t push it.

“Are you going to eat, too?”

“I already did,” you smile at him. “I was going to do dishes so I don’t leave them in the sink overnight — I try to never do that. But it can wait if you’d rather have company.”

He moves his napkin. “Well, I’d be able to hear you from the kitchen. More efficient,”

“Got it,”

You hum to yourself in the lulls of conversation with him, scrubbing a plate clean. He eats quickly, when you’re not across from him, and you find this out when he comes in with his dishes.

“Let me wash them. My mess,”

“You’re a guest,” you protest, but you don’t do much to dissuade him, watching the way he rolls up his sleeves and his forearms flex with a lazy smile as he scrubs off the alfredo sauce. “At least leave your glass. We can drink and talk for a bit.”

He raises his brows but nods, pushing it to the side.

“Do you want to talk about work?” You ask him as you fill one for you and then top off his. “Or would you prefer anything else.”

“I’ve been talking about dead bodies and abductions for two weeks. I’d like something more normal,” Aaron answers smoothly before pausing, placing his plate in your dishrack. “I’ve never told you that I deal with that, have I?”

“No,” you hand him his wine and guide him to your couch. “But I can make a guess why you haven’t,”

“I’m sure you can.”

“My father, he was in Narcotics, actually.” You look for a flash of recognition in his eyes, but without saying your father’s name there is none. “Maybe he worked with you at some point. But he would always come home tense and it strained my parent’s relationship… I get it.”

Aaron swallows. You guess relationships are a sore spot.

“Wanna hear about the last time I went out?” You couldn’t think about a better topic, and grimace when he sighs and sinks back into the cushions. “Nothing gross,”

“Hit me.”

You tell him, excited, bubbly, and pause about two-thirds into recounting the drinking games and how you could barely walk by the end of it. Namely, because you want to leave out the fact you almost drunk-dialed him (and that you were super wasted in public, considering he’s a federal agent), and second, because you realize you could show him the dress you were wearing that night.

Maybe the wine is getting to you a little, but you buzz with excitement at the idea of him eyeing you up and down.

“Actually, I wanna show you something!” Your voice is too excited and you know it when he gives you a questioning look. “Wait here.”

You stumble a little changing out of your clothes and quickly zip yourself into the dress, clasp the same necklace back on. Your hair isn’t done the same, your makeup is your day makeup and not what you wear out, but you still look pretty.

Maybe a little less slutty than you did that night, but the way the dress clings to your curves would make up for it. Hopefully.

“Close your eyes!” You call out to him.

“What?” Aaron calls back, and you hear an exaggerated groan when you don’t reply. “Okay, they’re shut,”

You saunter out and lightly grab his wrist — he’s holding his hands to cover his sight completely, and your heart flutters at the boyishness — and tug them away. “What do you think?”

Aaron opens his eyes almost directly to your cleavage as you straighten up, and he snaps his attention to your face. That doesn’t last long as you spin and twirl, letting the light catch the glittery details.

He’s moved his eyes to your hips and how much of your thighs are exposed.

He clears his throat. “You wore this out when you were that drunk?”

“Don’t worry,” you smile. “I was safe!”

“You were telling me you could barely walk,”

You pout at him. “You’re so serious, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

A beat of silence.

Another.

“Twirl for me again?”

You beam at him and obey, squeaking when he pauses you once you face away.

“It’s not fully zipped,” he lets his fingers trace above the zipper as he stands, and you feel him pressing closer to you — tall, imposing, strong. Warmth radiating off his skin. “Can I?”

You debate what to say.

“Actually,” you breathe in deeply, trying to keep your voice level. “I think I cinched the waist too tight at the clasps. Can you loosen them?”

Aaron’s breath ghosts over the nape of your neck, and he says nothing as he slowly unzips it, fingers sparking desire and tensing the muscles as his fingers trail down your spine after the zipper.

“Right here?” He asks, tugging at the cinch to make his point clear.

You smile and let the straps slip from your shoulders in a fake stretch. His breath hitches.

“A little lower,”

Aaron listens, entranced, undoing more and more until his fingers ghost right above your panties — a thong, maroon-y red.

You imagine he’s shut his eyes now, trying to respect you despite the way you’re clearly trying to get into his pants.

And so, you act.

You reach back and grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him a little closer to the crook of your neck.

“__,” he whispers.

“Aaron,” you match the soft desire thrumming under the words. “Please.”

You know he’ll snap when you arch your back, pressing back into his hardening bulge and pushing your chest out — right into his line of sight.

He kisses the skin of your neck gently, sucking on it harshly before running his tongue over the stinging sensation. He guides the dress down you fully, strong hands squeezing the fat on your thighs with a groan before slipping up and around your waist to cup your breasts.

“You’re beautiful,”

“Please don’t waste time on easing into it,” you grit out, aching for him. “I want you. Badly.”

“Shh,” he soothes, unclasping your necklace and placing it on the small stand by your couch, kissing where the cold metal had sat. “You’ll get me,”

You whimper out in surprise as he spins you and crashes his lips into yours forcefully, pressing you into him so your nipples brush against his ironed and perfect dress shirt, a perfect, aching friction.

A confident hand goes to your thong and snaps the waistband against your hip as you press further into him, blindly pawing at his pants.

“Walk me to your bedroom,” he tells you when he pulls back for air, and you stumble into the wall twice, too wrapped up in his kisses and heat to move with grace.

He lays you down, but before he can pull back and stand, you pull him next to you.

“Let me,” you say, tugging his tie loose and nimbly undoing his buttons with only a slight tremor to your hands. The button-up falls open to beautiful strength and skin, dotted with freckles and rippling with strength as he shrugs the fabric off and flings it to the floor.

When you start on his belt, his eyes bore into you and you shrink under the gaze once you tug it loose.

“Sit back,” he nods towards the headboard. “Now.”

You swallow and scramble to move where he wants. He strips down to his boxers and shifts to move over you, bracing on his knees and a forearm. He pecks your lips with a smile before deepening the kiss.

He leaves you gasping for air by the time he moves to lick over your nipples as his calloused fingers find their way into your panties. You quiver at the roughness on your clit, the way the fabric of the thong slips against you with his movements.

He pulls off you, and your eyes hungrily drink in his deep breaths and the filthy sight of his fingers moving in your underwear, back arching as he slips one finger into you and continues to roll your clit with his thumb.

“More?” He asks when your hips grind down to meet him.

“Want it,” you gasp out, squeezing him over his boxers. The precum that’s leaked through makes you keen with need. “‘M ready.”

“I’d rather you not get hurt,” he pushes in another finger. “So be patient.”

You huff, fucking up against his hand.

He pulls back and pins you with that same hand, smearing your arousal over your hip. “You can’t wait?”

“Maybe I like it with a little pain.”

He raises a brow at that and sighs, but he lets go of you to pull down and kick off his boxers.

Your mouth dries at the sight of his cock, and you ache, so desperately empty. You grab at his shoulders, broad and strong, and he can’t help the twitch of a smile as he rubs himself against you and you squirm.

You kiss him as you hook your leg around him and drag him into you, delighting in the gasp of pleasure he lets out against your lips. His jaw sets, teeth grinding as he sets a torturously slow pace, letting you feel the drag of every vein and inch against your velvety walls.

You dig your nails into his back and scratch, and his hips stutter before finally speeding up. It’s still not enough, but finally forceful enough to draw sounds from your lips.

“You like a little pain too,” you laugh breathlessly, trying to leave a bite on his neck. He cranes back and out of reach, folding your legs up to drive deeper.

“I can take it. Can you?” Aaron asks, no expectation of an answer as he finally sets a pace that drives you to near silent gasps and shaking muscles.

You whimper, digging your nails in more harshly to feel the way his shoulders flex as he moves one of his hands to rub your clit. His skin and his movements are rough and aggressive, punching moans out of you without care, sitting your nerves on fire.

He doesn’t relent, leaving wet kisses along your sweat slick skin as he fucks into you so hard you quiver in his hold, small and weak and helpless under him.

You moan at the idea, arching up into him as he scrapes his teeth over your left breast.

“More,” you beg breathlessly. “I can take it all,”

His brow furrows in delicious determination over darkened, blown-out eyes, lips tightening to hold in his gruff moans as he drags you closer to your ecstasy.

“Yeah?” He asks, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks together. “Want it all?”

You nod eagerly, urge him down for another kiss, and you clench when he sucks on your tongue before pulling back and completely away.

“Hands and knees.”

You flip hurriedly, trying to hide the way your muscles shake from the effort. He catches it, though, wraps an arm under and around your waist to help support you as he drapes himself over your back and slides back in.

It’s almost claustrophobic, so warm and close to him, skin slick with sweat, heavy breaths coming out in humid pants, wet presses of his lips and tongue to your shoulders and the nape of your neck; but you love it, whining and keening as he angles his hips just right and rubs your clit again.

You’re so, so, so close to the edge, you can almost taste it.

“Let go,” he orders, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.

And you do, quivering around him, pussy desperately trying to keep him in place as he fucks you through it.

He hisses, and you whine at the empty feeling, rolling over to see him leaning back and jerking himself off, head tossed back and veins popping out.

You crawl over and grin up at him “fuck my mouth” before taking him in, and he hisses, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Shit, __,” he groans, and you realize it’s the first time he’s said your name or lost composure during this. You hum in response and bob your head further down before hollowing your cheeks.

His hips jerk, but before he can apologize for the movement, you moan around him and press lower.

Aaron groans, deep and broken with need, and it only takes a few more seconds for him to cum, thighs twitching under your palms.

He tugs you off and kisses you after you swallow, tasting himself on your tongue.

“Let me clean you up,” he whispers after a few moments, observing how you’re still shaking from the aftershocks.

He leaves and comes back with a washcloth, wiping you clean and apologizing softly when you wince from oversensitivity.

Aaron even helps you get dressed (finds pajamas in a drawer for you and hands them to you) and makes sure you pee and brush your teeth.

When he starts gathering his things, you grab him. “Stay.”

He pauses and sighs, shirt bundled in his hand. He slips back into his boxers and slides under the duvet next to you.

“I’ll stay.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

When you wake up, Aaron is gone.

No note. No voicemail.

It stings. He’d even cleaned up the wine glasses and brought your necklace onto your nightstand.

When you stand, it aches, muscles exhausted. You shower slowly and pensively, chewing on your lip as you consider calling him.

You don’t.

You fix yourself coffee, eat some fruit and pancakes, and get ready for work. It’d be a long day standing and delivering orders with the way your muscles burned, but maybe it’d distract you.

You don’t even hear from him again for a week, and part of you is mad at him, but most of you is scared — you’d figured out that he deals with homicides and abductions that night, and there was a worry that took root and grew that he could be dead, and you wouldn’t know.

When you hear from him, it’s one a.m. on a Friday (Saturday, you suppose, since it’s past night).

“Hello?” You ask groggily, not having checked the caller I.D.

“__,” Aaron sighs out. He sounds relieved.

You tense. “Aaron.”

There’s awkward silence.

“Why are you calling?”

“I hadn’t heard from you all week,” he tells you, and your heart twists in your chest.

Who did he think he was, to sleep with you, leave without warning, and call like nothing happened?

“I wonder why,” you snap, voice bitter and biting.

Aaron sighs and shuffles.

More uncomfortable silence.

“Where did you go?”

“Home. I had to get dressed for work.”

You hope none of his team is around. You’re already upset enough just talking to him, and that’s without a team of whatever-the-fuck he does FBI agents listening in.

“No message?”

“Should I have left one?” Aaron sighs, and you can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re not dating, __.”

“Yeah. I can tell.” You scoff. “Then why do you care that I didn't call you?”

“I like your company, you know that.”

“You do a hell of a job making it clear.”

Eyes burning with tears you’re holding back, you finally ask.

“What do you want, Aaron?”

“To talk.”

“No,” you grouse, wiping the tear that rolls down your cheek.

“__, please, come on.”

“Come on?” You repeat, incredulous. “Aaron, I like you. You used me for sex and left. I’m fucking pissed at you,”

“You’re too young for me.” Aaron sighs. “I’m always at work. It’s dangerous work, too. You could have any guy,”

“Yeah. A shame I want you. And my age didn’t seem to matter last week. If you don’t want to date me, just say it!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I want to see you.”

“No. Please… stop calling me,”

You hope he doesn’t hear the choked sob that leaves your lips as you hang up.

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

You ignore him for two weeks pretty well, pretending to be gone or asleep every time he rings the doorbell, tossing out his sad attempts at cookies (even if you feel like crying knowing he can’t make cookies or bake for shit and is doing it just for you), letting the flowers he placed die on your stoop.

The first time you hear about him again — he hadn’t left messages in a few days — is actually at work.

A younger man, about your age, boyishly cute and nothing like who you wanted, comes in and smiles at you.

“Hey, do you have any like… special drinks?” He’s stuttering. “My friend—boss?— recommended this place, said you had lattes I might like.”

The gears turn a little.

(There’s someone on my team who would drink it.

I want you to try it, Aaron.

I don’t do sugar in my coffee, __. But he does, I swear it’s more sugar than coffee sometimes. I’ll let him know the name of your café.

Should I be expecting him?

Yeah, maybe. His name’s Spencer. He’s a good kid.)

“Boss?”

“Yeah! We work together, but we’re also friends, but he could fire me, so I never know how to introduce him.”

You giggle slightly. “Um, well, we have a seasonal drink.”

You rattle off the options and ingredients, and when he finally decides on his order, he blinks at you a few times.

“You know, your name is familiar. __.” He’s trying to place it.

With a smile, you glance at him. “What’d you say yours was? For the order.”

“Spencer.”

Bingo.

You write it on the cup and look to see if there’s a line. There isn’t. You hand the cup to the other barista working with the order ticket.

“Where’d you say you worked, Spencer?”

“I didn’t. But I work at the FBI in the BAU—that’s the behavioral analysis unit. We do something called profiling to catch unsubs, unknown subjects, who commit a variety of different crimes.”

You nod.

Profiler.

You’d think someone who knows the human condition and behavior so well would know not to leave a girl without a goodbye when you slept together the night before.

“Your boss, his name Aaron?”

“Hotch.” Spencer supplies automatically before his ears catch up. “Wait, yeah. Aaron Hotchner. You know him?”

You smile tightly, not sure what he’s shared with his team. With the BAU. “We’re neighbors.”

Spencer grins. “You should come in and surprise him! He’s been bothered by something lately, but he won’t tell any of us why. Maybe he’ll tell you.”

You tense. “You all sound like a nosy bunch, Spencer,” you hope your voice comes across light and playful enough. You thank your coworker for his coffee and say “I’m also on shift. Here’s your coffee. Have a good day.”

He smiles and says “you too!” and turns around. He almost bumps into someone immediately and you hear a rush of apologies as he looks at his watch and hurries out of the café.

You sigh.

All day, what Spencer said runs through your mind. Had he really been struggling? He had to be, assuming Spencer didn’t know you… and if Aaron is as private as you think he is, Spencer definitely doesn’t know you.

When you get home, Aaron is waiting on your doorstep, and it takes everything in you to not turn around and get right back in your car, drive somewhere for dinner.

“__,” his voice is pleading, broken and soft.

“Aaron, please,” you sigh. “I’m tired of the excuses.”

“I know. I know. Let’s talk. Actually.”

You huff.

“... I’ll talk. You listen. I’m the one who has apologizing to do,”

“First right thing you’ve said in a while,” you mumble bitterly, brushing past him to unlock your door. “Come on.”

He follows you slowly, and one glance at his face fills you with guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Damn him and his pretty brown eyes.

You settle on the couch with wine. “Go on,”

Aaron swallows. “I… got a call. A work call. At three. After we slept together, I needed to run to grab all my things, get new clothes…

It was a brutal case. The… the guy — we caught him — was killing girls who looked like you. And, selfishly, I thought, maybe if I just ignored you I wouldn’t be worried. And that you’d be okay, that it didn’t matter to you like it mattered to me.

But I kept seeing him kill you in my nightmares, and I knew I needed to focus on work before he killed another innocent woman. That if I called you, I’d break down and be a burden on the team and the case.

And I know that’s not good enough, I should’ve left a message or called anyway.

I do like you. And your age is part of me not calling, I just don’t know if it’s right. For me to want you.”

He pauses and stares into your eyes before looking to the ground. “I don’t care if it’s right anymore. I do want you. When I close my eyes before bed, I see your smile, I think of you, and I just,” he digs his nails into his thighs, exhales heavily. “I want you so fucking bad,”

You swallow. “Care to show me?”

“Not tonight.” Aaron sighs. “I don’t want… I don’t want it to seem like I just want your body.”

“Even if I say it’s okay?”

“Even then,” he leans over and kisses you.

Sweetly. Romantic, even.

“Let me make it up to you. What do you say about dinner tomorrow?” He rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Let me show you that I want you,”

“Sounds good, Hotchner.”

His brows shoot up. “How do you know my last name?”

“Well, I met this guy,” you say teasingly. “His name’s Spencer. Ring a bell?”

Aaron curses. “Did he say anything?”

“Just that you seemed down. He didn’t know anything, I just said you were my neighbor. Why, did you miss me? That why you were so miserable?”

“Yeah.” It’s the most confident he’s sounded all night. “Going forward…” he pauses. “Just slap me if I’m being an ass. I thought I was going crazy not being able to see you.”

#my works #mdni #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly

༺༻

The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate.

You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in.

You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out.

"Hotchner."

"Hi, handsome," you say softly.

There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?

"Hi, honey."

You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth.

"What do you need?" he asks.

"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?"

"You're outside."

You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume.

"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."

"You really shouldn't be here," he says.

Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him.

"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep."

"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner."

You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here.

"Yeah, please. If you want to."

"I want to. Okay?"

Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay?

"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome."

"Bye."

You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency.

Maybe you should.

—

The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person.

Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature.

You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head.

"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV.

You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?"

"A little," he concedes sympathetically.

You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck.

"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."

You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.

"It doesn't matter," you say.

"You sure?"

You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

"I'm good. Better, if you would…"

"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down.

You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close.

He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.

You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own.

"Slow down," he chides gently.

You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings.

He gives you a short, hard kiss.

"Hotchner."

You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.

"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency.

His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll.

"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight."

Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it.

"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess.

"You're not telling me something."

"No?" He blinks in surprise.

"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?"

"I think that's obvious."

"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron."

He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am."

You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt.

"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror."

"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks."

You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses.

"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not.

That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does.

You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings.

Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue.

It's you.

You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest.

"You're tired?" he asks.

Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same.

You're not sure anymore.

"Yeah," you say roughly.

Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey."

You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off.

—

Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would.

If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant.

But what?

You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect.

It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices.

"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting.

"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side.

"More than okay. Do you want to go in?"

So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back.

Phase two, your clothes.

You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them.

Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit.

"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'.

"I know," he says.

You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break.

"You like them?" you ask worriedly.

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?"

He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them."

A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point.

That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears.

The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay.

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend.

You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm.

"Hi," you say, unsure.

"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously.

You startle. "No, of course not."

He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?"

You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-"

He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him.

"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur.

"Doesn't count. I begged for it-"

"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up."

"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make."

"Right, sorry."

Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you.

"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?"

"No." You smile as you say it.

You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector.

"You didn't even try."

You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are.

"Don't make fun," you beg.

"You're embarrassed."

"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"

You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?"

His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long."

"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum.

"Oh, don't."

"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry."

"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart."

"I did miss you," you relent.

He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too."

It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember.

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend.

You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine.

You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow.

I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites.

Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria.

Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes.

"Do you want me to press these?" you ask.

Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning.

He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No."

"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes."

"I'll do it in the morning."

"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?"

He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.

"I want to talk to you about something."

You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back.

"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"You know I care about you."

Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way.

"Do you know how much?" he asks.

"Is that a trick?"

"No."

You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting.

"Yeah, I know how much."

"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways."

"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.

Aaron Hotchner indulges you.

"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too."

It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?"

"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together.

He stares at you, a long, reassuring look.

He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too."

"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out."

You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears.

"I'm not," you say quickly.

He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow.

"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them."

You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown.

"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.

"The team think I'm spoiled."

"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday."

Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home.

"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath.

You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could."

His easy, loving smile flattens. "No."

"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together."

"That's not going to work."

"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up.

"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there."

"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again.

"Sweetheart."

"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile.

You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness.

Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him.

"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice."

It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it.

"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-"

He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?"

"I love your voice," he says agreeably.

Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time.

—

His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later.

Mostly because Aaron pushes you.

Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater.

You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall.

"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves."

He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it.

It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).

Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you.

He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss.

Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter.

Your lips buzz.

"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back.

"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into."

"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain.

He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom."

You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?"

"I'm sure I'll figure it out."

—

The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick.

You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill.

"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile.

You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs.

I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly.

"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her.

She steps into your path.

"Sorry," you say again.

She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks.

You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes.

"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side.

She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!"

Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand.

"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake.

You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only-

"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you."

She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you."

You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?"

"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared."

You lick your dry lips. "The other day?"

"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun."

Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement.

"He really doesn't talk about me?"

Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."

He doesn't talk about me.

You pretend to check your watch.

"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance.

"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says.

You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes.

You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered.

You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline.

You're beautiful.

Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it.

Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself.

"Hi, honey."

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower.

"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-"

"Are you sure?"

"...Are you okay?"

You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody.

"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?"

"What's wrong with your clothes?"

"You tell me, detective."

You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels.

"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you.

You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it.

"I don't understand."

"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you."

You wipe your wet face with mean hands.

"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you."

"No. I don't wanna see you."

"Honey-"

"Leave me alone, Aaron."

You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry.

You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing.

So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?

Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive.

That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread.

"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling.

Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either.

The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking.

It's him. Shocker.

You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone?

He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this.

"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.

"I'm really mad."

"What else?"

"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things."

"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks.

Do you want to talk about it?

You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day.

You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted.

You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would.

You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees.

"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain."

"I met Emily Prentiss."

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like."

You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad.

"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like."

"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me."

"Yes."

Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely.

"Yeah, honey."

Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face.

"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?"

"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising.

"Then why?"

His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off."

You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues.

"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.

"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself."

You're finding it difficult to be mad with him.

He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over.

You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin.

"How long have you felt like this?"

"Like what?" you ask wetly.

"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance.

"I don't know."

"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch."

You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches."

You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.

"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is."

"They know about the lunches?"

His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry."

You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. Can we go home?"

His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again.

You watch him drive.

When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't.

"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding.

You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep.

"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty."

You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam.

—

Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper.

You can't believe you're here.

You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.

You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself.

You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here.

Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.

His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you.

All eyes on me.

You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.

"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen.

"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you.

"Don't punish me."

"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.

And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.

That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing.

"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur.

He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine."

"What part is that, Agent?"

He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start."

༺༻

my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥

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remuslupinslittleslut · 2 months

Note

Okay hear me out teach me dynamic with a reward. James and Sirius have been so good so reader convincing Remus to let them spit roast her or one in the ass one in the pussy yknow while he watches, making sure they fuck her just right and eventually ends up joining somehow.

Idk just an idea

love your work xoxo

I got a bit excited and now this ended up being almost 2k. LOVED this request though, I'm thinking I might have to make a new list just for the teach me stuff, like it's another kind of poly marauders. If I had the energy to post content warning I probably would on this one it is quite filthy from time to time, but it thought it was v fun :)

Masterlist.

You had made a deal; if your boyfriends played well out on the pitch today, you’d give them a reward. It was a bit of an excuse, really, because they always played well.

Holding the hand of Remus, you sat on the edge of your seat, cheering as James made another goal. As he did a victory lap on his broom, your cheeks heated up – he always made sure to send you a wink and a wide grin. The cocky bastard knew what was coming. Squeezing Remus’ hand, you leaned in to whisper in his ear; “They’re good, really good.”

Remus chuckled, squeezing your hand in return. “Yeah,” he murmured, against your ear, eyes never leaving his two other partners. “We’re gonna have to give them a treat.”

To no one’s surprise, Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw with over 100 points, leading to a roaring party up in Gryffindor tower. The party, however, was just background noise as you waited on Sirius’ bed.

You and Remus had agreed, he’d tie you up in gold and red ribbons, leave you in their dorm and go get the others, who would be gifted your body for them to unwrap.

The cold air made your nipples perk as you lay on the bed. It was a dangerous game, you knew, letting your two subs take control over your body, allowing them to play the role of the dominant person, if only for a night. Remus had cautioned you, but after becoming submissive with Remus alone, you thought it might be fun to let them as well – besides, Remus would be there the entire time, watching, making sure everything went as it should.

“Are we getting our gift?” You heard Sirius’ voice as they walked up the stairs, excitement evident.

“Is Y/N in here?” James followed, just as excited.

Stopping just outside the door, you heard Remus speak, his voice determined and rough. “You’re about to be rewarded, not just for your performance today, but also for your good behavior these past few days,” he said, and you knew the look on his face without having to see him. “You’re going to be allowed one evening of full control – but remember, if you disobey any of our underlying rules, you will still get punished. Can you tell me what they are?”

“Don’t hurt ourselves or anyone else, always listen to safewords, always check for consent, don’t be rude to daddy and no lasting injuries,” James listed, as the good boy he always was.

“Good Jamie,” Remus’ voice was softer now. “Go ahead then.”

As the door opened, you felt your heartbeat quicken.

“Wow,” Sirius gasped, the first person in through the door. “Pretty girl, all wrapped up for us?”

You turned your head to face him from where you lay on his bed, ribbons cutting into your skin, making sure you stayed in place. You nodded as your cheeks heated once more.

“Prongs, you’ve gotta see this,” Sirius cooed, dragging James along.

James’ eyes were wide and glossy from behind round glasses, his brown cheeks tinted pink as well.

“Go ahead, boys,” Remus said, plopping down on his own bed. “Unwrap your gift.”

Their eyes moved between your body and Remus’, not sure if they were actually allowed. But when Remus chuckled and nodded once more, they pounced, hopping onto the bed and pulling at the strings around your body.

“Hi darling, you’re so pretty f’me,” Sirius said, leaning down to kiss you. His lips tasted like firewhiskey and his long hair tickled your face.

James was busy making sure all pieces of ribbon left your body, before he allowed his hands to grab at your tits.

“Go on then, boys,” Remus said from his own bed. “Get on with it.” Looking over to him, you saw his hand was wrapped around his semi-hard cock, slowly jerking up and down.

Arching your back, you tried to push James’ hands harder into your chest, as you moaned into Sirius’ mouth.

“Is that what you want, princess?” Asked Sirius, hand holding your chin as he pulled away slightly. “You want us to fuck you? Make you cum on our cocks while daddy watches?”

They knew you sometimes let Remus be your daddy, even as you were mommy to Sirius and James – but they’d never used it against you like that. It was hot, very hot, and you felt yourself slip further into your submissive persona even more as you desperately nodded up at Sirius. “Please.”

“Jamie, look at that, little slut wants us to fuck her,” Sirius taunted.

James still looked a little uneasy with the switched positions, but you reached out a hand to hold his. “Jamie, please, wanna taste you,” you whined, trying to ease him into it. “Please, Jamie, let me suck your cock.”

Your words made James’ eyes widen, before he looked to Remus, again. “Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, James, you can do whatever you want to her, for tonight,” Remus assured, cock growing harder.

Nodding, James got up and started undressing. Sirius did the same.

Having gotten consent, James wasted no time straddling your chest and leaning down to kiss you quickly before placing his hard cock right in front of your face. Doing a half crunch, you pushed your head up and opened your mouth, tongue falling out, eyes meeting James’. “Fuck,” he groaned, hips coming forward enough to push his cock into your open and waiting mouth. Using your tongue, you licked around the head, spreading precum around. He always tasted so good.

Between your legs, you felt Sirius’ fingers pushing against your swollen clit before diving deeper, slipping into your wet cunt. You were prepared, had let Remus finger you open before, making sure you were ready for your boys. Still, Sirius’ expert fingers plunging in and out of your pussy felt fuckin’ amazing.

“Such a good girl,” James murmured, having pulled out of your mouth temporarily, allowing you to breathe.

“The best,” Sirius agreed, tongue reaching out to lap at your sensitive nub. “So pretty, so tasty.”

You moaned, arching your back. It felt so nice, receiving all that attention and praise, and if you looked to the side, you saw Remus smiling softly, hand squeezing the root of his cock, trying to stop himself from cuming.

“Such a little cock-whore, though,” Sirius said, pushing the limits even further. “D’you want me to fill your little hole? D’you need cock on both ends to be happy?”

James groaned, Sirius’ words had made you moan around James’ cock, now back in your mouth, and the vibrations sent pleasure all through James’ body. “I think she does, pads,” James said, hand brushing hair out of your face.

Sirius’ fingers left you, making you feel empty and alone, but it wasn’t long until his cock replaced them, filling your dripping cunt, making you speared on cock from both ends. This was heaven. James’ hips moving slowly, pushing his cock down your throat, letting your nose get tickled by the hair and the beginning of his shaft on every thrust. Sirius snapping his hips, allowing your g-spot to be perfectly grazed by his head.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned. “She’s taking us so well. D’you see this moons? Your cockslut is so good for us.” His head was thrown back, hands pressing into your legs as he thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of you. “Fuck, James, flip her over.”

Both cocks pulled out of you, making you whine from the loss of contact. It didn’t last long though, soon you were flipped to lay on your stomach, head almost falling off the edge of the bed, but James’ hand in your hair kept you up as he pushed his cock into your mouth again. Behind you, Sirius straddled your thighs, pushing just your arse up as he, too, once again penetrated you – making you full of cock, and happy again.

Straining your eyes to look up at James, you used your tongue to give extra attention to his head, while your hips started moving in little circles, walls clamping down harder on Sirius. As much as you enjoyed this, you wanted to be active in their orgasms.

James went first, hands pulling even harder at your hair as he threw his head back, hips stuttering as his cock shot white globs of cum down your throat. Moaning, you opened your mouth, playing with his cum using your tongue. Leaning down, James gave you an open mouthed kiss, allowing his own cum to be split between the two of you.

Sirius, who had witnessed James coming down your mouth was also getting close, hips pushing against yours, hard. When James had moved away from you, Sirius leaned down to pull your chest up, one hand in your hair, the other squeezing your tit.

“Such a good little cockslut, huh, took Jamie so well, gonna let me cum in you? Fill you up? Watch it run down your legs? Gonna let me do that, huh?”

Sirius’ filthy words only made you moan louder, walls squeezing him harder.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m–” His hips slowed as he gave his final few thrusts, pushing his cum even further into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he kissed the back of your neck before moving away.

Remus, who still hadn’t allowed himself to cum came over. “Everyone okay?” He asked, looking at all his littles. “You did so well,” he looked at you. “But you two,” he pointed to Sirius and James, “missed something. You didn’t make our girl cum.”

They both looked ashamed, and a little disappointed that they’d missed something during their night.

Remus leaned down and kissed your nose. “Can you ride my face, darling?”

That sounded amazing and you quickly got up and sat yourself down over his face. His tongue was good, he knew how to use it and when he had to add his fingers to make sure you felt as good as possible. Licking along your damp lips, Remus used two fingers to push into you, the pads of his fingers immediately pressing against your spongy walls.

Moving your hips, you dragged your cunt along Remus’ face. You wished you could’ve disappeared into a world of pleasure, but his leaking cock looked so lonely, you had to lean down and wrap your fingers around it. Remus pushed his hips, making his cock glide through your fingers as he moaned against your heat.

The other two men were sitting next to you, mouths agape and cocks growing hard again after their orgasms. Watching them as you took Remus into your mouth, you saw their members bob at the view.

Remus quickened his pace, tongue licking and lips sucking around your clit as his fingers moved faster in and out of you. He wanted to make sure you came before you did. Hips and head moving faster, you felt yourself get thrown over the edge, wetting Remus’ whole face as you squirted, causing a chain reaction of Remus coming into your mouth, where James had just done the same thing. “That’s how you treat a girl,” Remus said, wiping his face with his hands, sending his friends a wink.

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

j is for james beard... and for jealousy | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

pairing: jealous boyfriend!carmy x female!reader

word count: 7.4k

summary: after sydney takes home a big win at the james beard awards, you and your boyfriend carmy run into an old rival for a fiery, chaotic, and surprisingly sexy night. companion piece to 'make my heart surrender' but can be read as a standalone oneshot.

warnings: 18+ chapter, minors dni: lots of swearing, p*rn with a plot, smut, p in v unprotected sex (reader is using hormonal birth control in monogamous relationship), praise kink, rough jealousy sex

a/n: how dare I drag poor james beard into this hetero nonsense?! anywayssss surprise i'm back because i keep having ideas for these two. maybe one day i'll just write a carmy x reader piece that doesn't include this character but for now... please enjoy this literal porn with a plot. also: let's all agree that toxic jealousy is a red flag in relationships, however, i wanted to work with a scenario where carmy would perhaps be more sexually assertive.

“I look ridiculous,” Carmy had grumbled earlier that day, at his reflection in the mirror.

He had never felt like himself while wearing a suit. Sure, he would spend time, effort, and money into finding the perfect vintage denim jacket, but a suit? He’d much rather be behind the scenes, in his chef whites, instead of this.

“You look…” you’d countered him, emphasizing the word ‘look’. “...hot, Carmen.”

He’d given you somewhat of a half smile in response – flattered by your comment, and also unconvinced you hadn’t just said in an attempt to get him out of the house.

Or out of obligation.

Because he’s your boyfriend. Because you’ll say anything to get him out for Syd’s big night. Because you love him.

Carmy had never gotten used to the whole celebrity aspect of the food world – especially his own. These award ceremonies were always an uncomfortable reminder that he never quite felt like he fit in.

“Do you think Syd would kill me if-?” Carmy had asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“Baby, Sydney is counting on us… and she and I will both kick your ass if you don’t get in the car,” you’d cut him off, because there was no way in hell he was getting out of this. With a scowl on his face, you’d dragged him down the stairs and into your Uber.

And that’s how he ended up here, at the James Beard award ceremony on a Sunday night, as you all wait anxiously for the announcement. While the restaurant hadn’t been open long enough to be nominated and was actively in a state of ‘working out the kinks,’ Carmy’s celebrity in the food world had brought in a lot of press. Ever since Sydney and Carmy had become partners in the reopen, he had been more than happy to let her take center stage. When the nominations were announced, and Sydney was on the list, he was ecstatic for her. Truthfully, it was a relief that she seemed to do much better with all the stuff he wasn’t crazy about: press, interviews, the spotlight.

“Wake me up when this snoozefest is over,” Richie mumbles trying his best to pretend he’s not having a good time. You snort, shooting Richie a look, because you know it’s one of the most exciting nights he’s had in a while.

Besides Carmy, who wouldn’t want to get all dressed up to go to a fancy party and celebrate Sydney?

You’ve somehow managed to corral the core staff of The Bear here this evening. The entire restaurant had been abuzz when the nominations were announced, and talks of who would get stuck at the restaurant the night of the award ceremony had already begun. It was an easy decision to close the restaurant for that night, so that everyone who wanted to could attend.

Your life here is better than you ever imagined it could be. Working your ass off in a kitchen that you love has been invigorating. It’s helping you fall in love with the process all over again. You suspect that your time in fine dining had, perhaps, run its course even before you quit your last job. Back then, here is what you’d longed for on the days you felt your most lost. You love being a teacher; you love mentoring Marcus. He’s got a desire to learn that never quits, and it inspires you day in and day out. But most importantly, you’re head over heels in love. You’re so deeply in love with Carmy that sometimes, you wonder what took the two of you so long to pull the trigger.

Tonight is no different. You’re surrounded by people you adore more than anything – people you’ve been in the trenches with during a dinner service from hell, people you’ve laughed your ass off with after a round of drinks outside of the restaurant – and you’re all here to celebrate someone who’s become a close friend of yours. It’s just another reminder – another sign from the universe – that you made the right decision.

And you’re sure Sydney is going to win.

You’re not sure how you know.

You can just feel it.

Sydney sits between Carmy and Marcus, and you’re seated in between Carmy and Richie. You notice Carmy’s leg is bouncing up and down impatiently as he anticipates the next category of awards. Even though you know these big social events put Carmy on edge, you know he’s really just nervous for her.

“And the winner… for the James Beard Rising Star award of 2023…” the announcer, esteemed chef Mashama Bailey begins, grabbing the attention of the entire room.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and Carmy continues to fidget nervously. You reach across Carmy’s lap, grabbing Sydney’s hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. Sydney holds on to you, and while you’re sure she might cut off your circulation from squeezing so tightly, you don’t mind. You’re all on the edges of your seat.

“Sydney Adamu of The Bear!”

You and Carmy are cheering as loudly as you can, while Richie jumps to his feet letting out a loud ‘whoop.’ A chorus of ‘that’s right,’ ‘she won!’ and ‘c’mon syd’ echoes through Tina, Gary, and Ebra and Manny, while Angel is already on his feet taking a video of the crowd. Everyone is cheering so boisterously you’re not sure it’ll ever stop.

“You won, Syd!” you yell over the loud claps and cheers, giving her hand one more squeeze. She rises, letting go of your hand, you and Carmy both following to give her some space to walk through the aisle.

“Let’s go, Syd! That’s right. That’s right,” Marcus calls out loudly, jumping to his feet with Richie and earning a few looks from the people sitting to the right and left.

“Congratulations, chef,” Carmy whispers, as she passes him by. You watch as Marcus ushers her over to the aisle so that she can go up to the stage while Angel films the whole thing on his iPhone. Carmy has the proudest look on his face, the tip of his nose the lightest blush pink, and you’re beaming as you watch your friend make her way towards the stage of the opera house.

“Remember when this was you?” you whisper to Carmy, catching his attention.

“Tonight everything changes for her,” Carmy replies, grinning from ear to ear.

“For the both of you,” you add. “For all of us.”

The night he won the rising star award put him on the map. While you hadn’t known Carmy at the time, you’d heard about him in those early days of both of your careers. Carmy had risen so quickly through the ranks that by the time you met him, he was only a few weeks away from his promotion to CDC at the old restaurant. Not only did this put Sydney on the map, but it was better press for The Bear than anyone could ask for.

“Congratulations, baby,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He just shoots you a look, the pride evident in his eyes, before wrapping his arm around you and holding you close.

“I just wanna say,” Richie begins, having garnered the attention of your group. You’re all huddled in a circle at the reception, champagne flutes in everyone’s hands.

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye…” Richie toasts, earning a few looks and side comments from your team. “And don’t forget about that time you stabbed me… but even if this brings a bunch of fuckin’ strokes to the restaurant, we’re so fuckin’ proud of you.”

“To Sydney, who’s… what does Carmy say… changed the chemistry and who is the heart of this restaurant,” Ebra adds on.

Tina smiles proudly, raising her glass to Sydney. It brings a smile to your face to see her all dressed up too.

“Syd, I don’t know where the hell we’d be without you,” Carmy continues, raising his glass.

“Cheers to you, Sydney!” you say, clinking champagne glasses, before taking your first celebratory drink as a team.

It doesn’t take long for your group to break off into smaller ones – making comments about how out of place you all feel at this fancy of an event. Richie’s wrapping an arm around Carmy’s shoulder, ushering him to a side conversation – something about ‘lizards this’, and ‘the working class that.’

“So how do you feel?” you ask, turning towards Sydney, taking a moment to quietly congratulate your friend.

“I think I’m still in shock,” she sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from you.

“Well, I’ll cheers to that. You know. To calm the nerves,” you joke, raising your glass once more.

“To liquid courage,” she agrees, clinking glasses with you again, as you both decide just to finish off your flutes of champagne.

“Can I get you another drink?” you offer, placing your now empty champagne

“Oooo can you get me one of those fancy themed cocktails I saw at the bar earlier?” Sydney replies, excitedly.

“Anything for you,” you say back.

“And when you’re back, I think I saw Carla Hall has a tasting table here so we should make our rounds,” Sydney mentions, because there’s no way either of you are missing out on the fact that the best chefs in the world are cooking in this room right now.

You nod in agreement, heading to the bar to get both you and Sydney a new round of drinks.

“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks.

You glance at the menu, deciding on your go-to, a gin and tonic, and then one of the featured cocktails of the evening that Sydney mentioned, knowing she’s a tequila drinker. You wait at the bar for your drinks, knowing the fancy mezcal cocktail you just ordered for Sydney will take a little bit of a time to make.

“I was wondering when I’d run into you,” you hear a voice say, grabbing your attention. It’s a familiar voice that you were really hoping you’d never have to hear again.

“Funny, because I was hoping to avoid you,” you quip back, turning to the man who’s just joined you at the bar. His bravado alone is enough to earn an eye roll from you and you can feel your guard going up.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the disdain in your voice.

“You haven’t heard?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face that you just want to slap off of it.

“I don’t make it my business to keep up with you, Walker,” you shoot back, using his last name as a formality, completely unamused by his question.

“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he croons, a flirtatious low chuckle rumbling out of his chest.

You ignore him, rolling your eyes for the second time in the last two minutes, as you thank the bartender who’s just come back with your gin and tonic. You raise the glass to your lips, getting a head start since now, you definitely need this drink.

“Moved to LA. Took a CDC position out there. Besides, after you left… New York was… getting boring,” he explains, playing it cool. He drops the name of the well-respected LA restaurant that he’s running now in an attempt to impress you, which only seems to piss you off further.

You scoff in response. If you weren’t waiting on Sydney’s drink, you’d be long gone by now, but as you watch the bartender burn a sugar cube, you wonder how damn long it takes for a fucking mezcal drink to be made.

Maybe if I’ll just ignore him, he’ll fuck off, you think to yourself.

“You know, I was surprised to hear you moved to Chicago. Left without saying goodbye. Then again, should’ve known…” he provokes, continuing his very one sided conversation.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nate?” you snap, turning your head to him, instantly regretting giving him the attention he’s so desperately seeking.

He raises an eyebrow, before nodding towards Carmy as a reply. Your gaze follows, and you can tell that Carmy’s noticed who you’re talking to at the bar.

“It’s a small world. Word gets around. People talk.”

But you’re not listening to him, your eyes fixed on Carmy. Carmy sends a look of concern your way, but you nod back to him as if to say ‘all good.’ You can hold your own here. Nate watches carefully, noticing the look you share with Carmy across the room. He was always a detail oriented son of a bitch.

“Classic golden boy,” Nate sighs, the envy in his voice giving him away.

“Don’t you think your little one sided rivalry with Carmy is getting a little old?” you laugh dryly.

“One sided?” Nate asks back, taking a step towards you.

“Yeah, one sided,” you repeat, standing your ground. Now way in hell you’re going to let this asshole back you up. “Because if I recall correctly, he never indulged you in your silly little games.”

Nate laughs again, taking another step towards you that makes you increasingly more uncomfortable.

“If that’s how you remember it.”

“Oh grow up.”

“Not when golden boy gets everything I want.”

“You’re so full of shit!” you exclaim, finally taking a step back. “Carmy’s had to work for everything he’s achieved. You and I both know that.”

“How do you think he’d feel,” Nate starts, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to sound seductive or intimidating – neither of which are working on you. “... if he knew about what happened between us? After he left New york? It was… what? A week, maybe two, before you jumped into bed with me?”

“Carmy knows I’m not a thing to be had, Nate,” you seethe, glaring at him.

The bartender returns with your second drink finally.

“You sure about that?” Nate smirks, reaching out to touch you.

What a fucking asshole.

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe, jerking your arm away from him. You take both of your drinks, and you can’t get out of there fast enough.

“It was great catching up,” he calls after you, cockily.

“Can’t say the same,” you say, not even turning to look back at him.

You return to your group, holding in your fury. It’s Sydney’s big night and you’d much rather focus on that than the asshole of an old coworker you can’t fucking stand. You try to shake off the interaction, deciding it’s not even worth expending energy on.

“What the hell was that all about?” Sydney asks, having witnessed your tenuous interaction with the man you called Nate. She thanks you as you hand her her new drink.

“Absolute trashcan of a human. We used to work with him. In New York,” you said, letting out a puff of flustered air.

“Okay but… that was weird right?” Sydney questions, seeing that this guy’s clearly gotten under your skin.

“Totally. He’s a piece of shit. He and Carmy always had this weird rivalry but it was mostly on his end. I… also may or may not have made the dumbest mistake ever once upon a time and slept with him… like… over a year ago,” you confess, feeling just a little bit guilty about it.

“Noooo,” she replies, her eyes widening. “You slept with that guy?”

“Yeah,” you answer, regretfully. “Not one of my finest moments. Long story short: right after Carmy left New York to come back here, I got a little too drunk with some coworkers. I was really sad and it was stupid, and uh, he was… let’s just say more than happy to play the part of a good listener.”

“Can’t imagine that guy being good, or a listener, let alone both at once,” Sydney replies, seeing the negative effect he’s had on you in one conversation.

“Yeah, It was a stupid fucking mistake and I regretted it the next morning. If you can believe it, he got even more insufferable when he realized it would never happen again,” you tell her, shaking off the bad taste in your mouth the conversation left you with.

“Yo,” Carmy says, hesitantly. He can tell that you’re pissed after your conversation at the bar. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, honestly. “Just Nate Walker being a fuckin’ asshole. But what’s new?”

“Hey Syd! Let’s go grab a bite,” Marcus calls to her.

“You guys mind?” she asks, looking from you to Carmy.

You shake your heads ‘no’, and honestly, you’re glad it gives you a little time alone with your boyfriend. You watch as Sydney leaves with Marcus to make the rounds, leaving you and Carmy alone.

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” Carmy starts, bringing Nate up again. He can feel his face beginning to heat up as he asks you about it.

“Yeah.”

“Biggest jackoff in New York City.”

“Well, apparently he’s LA’s problem now.”

“Fucko,” Carmy says, shaking his head at the memory of his pain in the ass sous. He can’t figure out why seeing Nate talk to you near-sent him into a blind rage, but you’d reassured him that you were good so, he let you hold your own.

“Seems like he had a lot to say to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” you reply dryly.

“After that I think I need a shower. Or a bath of bleach.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, releasing some of the tension he, unknowingly, was holding in his body.

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about Nate,” you say, changing the subject.

It’s not that you feel weird about it – that you’d feel weird telling Carmy about what happened between the two of you – but it just feels so small and insignificant in the face of the love that you have with Carmy.

“Good, me either,” Carmy exhales.

Another release in pressure.

He wonders if he’d been this tense all night, or if seeing you with Nate had managed to piss him off this much.

“You wanna dance?” you ask him, a mischievous smile on his face. You offer a hand out to him.

“Baby, you know I don’t dance,” he states, matter of factly.

“I know. But I do,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows.

“One dance,” he warns, earning a triumphant smile from you.

He takes your hand, prompting you to put your drink down on the table where you’re all posted up at. Carmy shakes his head, surprised that you’ve coaxed him this far out of his comfort zone. As he pulls you into his arms, you giggle, wrapping yours around his neck and sway to the loud music in the background.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks you with such genuine love in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

He thinks you look like a goddess – could be the dress, but he’s pretty sure it’s you. Your hair is shorter now than it was a few months ago and lays in the softest, most gentle waves, parted perfectly down the middle. He hasn’t stopped staring at cherry red-painted lips all night, and every time he gets a peek of your legs through the high slit in the dress you’re wearing, he swears he short circuits.

Not to mention the low neckline. He’d watched you tie the top of the dress into a plunging neckline, and had to hold back his ask for you to cover up. It’s not that he cared about what you wore. But if he hadn’t been going to therapy over the last few months, he might feel some kind of way about anyone else getting to see any part of your breasts – anyone but him.

“A couple of times… but I won’t be mad about hearing it a few more, Bear,” you grin, leaning into him.

He smiles at your use of his childhood nickname. Back in New York, he’d kept it from you. It was just a reminder of what he’d left behind: his psycho mom, a nightmare of pain from his psycho-fucked-up family, how much it hurt when Mikey cut him out. But now, he loves the way it sounds coming from your lips, your voice the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. While he knows it’s taken him a long time to let you in, he’s glad he has. Whether it be at the restaurant or at the home you share together, you’ve become one of the most consistent things in his life.

The rest of the night is almost perfect. It’s filled with dancing, catching up with coworkers and friends in the culinary world, and most importantly, a celebration with your chosen family. That is, until you hear Sydney swear halfway across the room, catching the attention of you and Carmy both.

Carmy’s looking past you to where Nate is towering over Sydney at the bar. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure Nate would be dead by now.

“Is that Nate again?” Carmy asks, his face pink as he feels a rush of blood flow throw him.

You can see that Sydney is practically in the same place you were an hour ago. You watch as he steps in front of her, practically blocking her in between him and the bar.

“I don’t like this. We should go over there,” you say with a sense of urgency.

Carmy agrees, and Richie and Marcus, who you’re currently conversing with, follow close behind.

“Okay. You need,” Sydney warns, her voice deliberate, like a rattlesnake giving one last warning before it strikes. “... to back… the fuck up.”

His response is even worse, causing a fire to burn in your belly as you overhear what he says to Sydney.

“Oh come on,” he coos, forcing himself closer to her. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

Sydney takes another step to the side, trying her best to escape him and holding her hands up as a barrier while you charge at him. Your sudden movement attracts his attention, giving Sydney the out that she needs. You put both of your hands on his chest, shoving him away from her as you shout.

“She said ‘no.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Nate’s got such a smug, satisfied smirk on his face that, if you weren’t in a room filled with the best chefs in the world, you’d actually punch it right off of him. Carmy follows you, protectively standing behind you.

“Jealous?” he asks, amused. His eyes flicker over to Carmy, whose face is beginning to heat up, turning a brighter shade of red by the moment.

“In your dreams, asshat,” you spit back.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he says, completely satisfied as Carmy’s fist clenches. He’s clearly enjoying just how much he’s getting under his old boss’ skin.

You feel Carmy step towards him, but you turn to him, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, “Bear, it’s not worth it.”

“Did you tell him?” Nate asks you, with the intention of stirring the pot.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, shaking your head in absolute disbelief.

“Tell me what?” Carmy asks you softly.

“How does it feel, golden boy? To know that the one thing you always wanted… I got to first,” Nate sneers, a threatening sound in his voice. He looks from you to Carmy, assessing the damage.

Before Carmy can say anything, it’s you who lurches towards NAte, and Carmy’s wrapping his arms around you to hold you back. You can feel the tension in his arms as he holds you against his chest protectively.

“Okay this motherfucker is just asking for it,” Richie seethes, charging towards Nate.

“Richie, don’t!” Sydney shouts, shooting him a ‘please don’t make a scene’ look.

It takes all of Richie’s self control to stop himself. He nods to her, holding up his hands as a surrender. He begins to take a few steps back as your uncomfortably public standoff continues.

Sydney has retreated back so that she stands side by side with Marcus, while Carmy’s loosened his grip on your waist.

By the look on Nate’s face, you can tell he thinks he’s gotten away with it all, as he looks around at all of you one last time.

“You all have a goodnight,” he smirks, before taking his drink and slithering away.

You could care less where to. You’re just glad he’s gone.

You watch as he goes before checking in with Sydney, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. Marcus is by her side in an instant and you can see Carmy’s jaw twitching with anger. “Can’t believe you used to work with that guy. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Richie agrees under his breath.

“C’mon. Let’s just…” Marcus encourages quietly, nodding to your table.

Richie, Marcus, and Sydney all make their way back to your group as you stay with Carmy. His face is red and you can see it on his face that he’s still processing what just happened – what Nate said. You can see the gears turning in his head, and he’s staring at the floor, his face still cherry tomato-red.

“Carmy,” you say, ripping him from his thoughts.

He looks up at you, his face softening the minute you make eye contact.

“Can we go somewhere? Talk?” he asks, trying not to look like he’s going to burn the fuckin’ place down.

You agree with a nod, taking his hand and leading him elsewhere.

The further away from the reception you go, the quieter the party gets, and the louder your thoughts get. Would he be mad? You were furious with Nate for trying to use what happened to get under Carmy’s skin, but you also wonder if he’s mad at you too. For sleeping with Nate? For not telling him? But was it something you were supposed to tell him? It’s not like you expected him to tell you about every person he’d ever slept with.

Carmy finally stops, leading you into a quieter room, far away from the party. As you flick the lights on, it looks like a single dressing room for the plays performed here. The silence between the two of you is deafening, and it’s not just because it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had together since you arrived.

“I’m not mad… about Nate… about what he said,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you.

He’s trying his best to sound convincing, reassuring even, but he’s sure he’s doing a shit job.

You’re surprised, so you just take him in, searching his face for any clue that he’s telling that truth. His face is red, and you can see a tightness running across his chest as he’s looking for the courage to ask:

“But why didn’t you tell me?”

You sigh, unsure of what to say.

“Because…” you begin, hoping that if you just start talking, you’ll find the right words to explain. “I-, I didn’t think I had to. It happened once and it was a stupid mistake with… a lot of tequila involved.”

“You had just left New York and I was lonely. I didn’t say anything because… it didn’t mean anything to me, Bear.”

He listens, taking your explanation in, his eyes fixed on the floor again. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t seem to shake this feeling of anger – this tension that has him wanting to punch a hole through the wall.

“I don’t like what he fuckin’ said to you,” he finally blurts out.

“That- that he thinks he can just say whatever the fuck he wants. That he forced himself on Syd like that, like he can-.”

Carmy looks down at the floor again, his words trailing off.

He’s pissed.

You can tell he’s pissed.

But you have a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that says something else is going on.

Is Carmy… jealous?

“Carmy, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you apologize softly. “He shouldn’t have-, I mean he really is the worst fucking person to ever walk-.”

“I’m not upset about-,” he interrupts, firmly. He holds your gaze, trying to give you the most reassuring look he can. “I don’t care about-. I just… I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

You wait as he stews on his thoughts, his anger simmering as he sorts through his feelings. It’s like watching a hot pot of water come to a boil.

“I didn’t like seeing him touch you earlier like-.”

Let it rip.

“Like he can just put his hands on anyone he-. On you! I–.”

And then finally he explodes with, “I just fuckin’ hate that guy!”

It’s as if the pressure valve has been released as he lets out a big puff of air. While you can see it’s given him some relief, you’re still not sure what you’re supposed to offer at this moment.

“Carmy, what can I- hmmph?” you begin to ask, before being cut off by his lips on yours.

Well this isn’t what you were expecting.

Your head is spinning as your boyfriend kisses you with such passion, fervor, and urgency. He’s crashing his lips against yours at a desperate pace, and it’s all tongues and teeth and his hands are grabbing the back of your head, tangling into your hair. You’re not sure how you’ve gone from trying your best to hold space for your boyfriend’s feelings, to him pressing you up against the dressing room counter.

You gasp as he hoists you up onto the counter, pushing his body into yours.

“Carmy, are you-?” you ask, feeling the tent that’s already formed in his pants as you wrap your legs around him.

There’s a confident assertiveness he moves with, and as much as you hate to admit it, this is all turning you on.

“Hate that fuckin’ guy,” Carmy murmurs into your skin, as he begins to leave kisses down your jawline.

His mouth moves urgently down your neck, to your shoulders, to the exposed skin the plunging neckline of your dress reveals. His teeth leave light pink and purple marks in their wake, and you’re gasping, moaning, grabbing at any part of him you can hold on to. Little love bites begin to appear, but when he’s making you feel this good, you could care less.

He’s confident in the way he sucks little marks into your skin, biting down then immediately soothing the pain with his tongue. As he works his mouth over you, he looks up at you, his eyes wide, pupils blown out in pure desire, and it takes your fucking breath away.

Pain and pleasure.

Just to show the whole world that you’re his.

“Thinks he can fuckin’ look at you. Put his fuckin’ hands on you,” he mumbles against your skin. His mouth has reached the lowest point of your plunging neckline as he stands up, pushing himself against you between your legs.

“Baby,” you breathe out. You make a mental note to unpack why his sudden possessiveness has you so hot and bothered with your therapist next week.

“I really, really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Carmy drops to his knees, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it elsewhere. The sight has you absolutely drenched and you think you may cum just from looking at him.

“You’re mine,” is all he says, eliciting another moan from you as he sinks his teeth into the soft supple skin of your calf. You slide a heel-covered foot over his shoulder, as his lips begin trail up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thighs…

“Yes. I’m yours,” you breathe out, exasperated by Carmy’s sudden forwardness. You lean back, your head hitting the mirror with a thud. “All yours.”

He works his way up your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs while his hands disappear underneath the skirt of your dress, frantically searching for your panties.

“Carmy, I don’t know if we have time for-,” you gasp, as he pulls away for a moment.

His curls are unruly from running your fingers through them, his lips swollen from the passionate makeout you started only moments ago. You feel his fingers hook underneath the top of your panties and he looks at you like he can see right through you. Holding your gaze, it’s impossible to not get lost into his ocean blue eyes you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. He takes his sweet time, teasing you, refusing to break eye contact, as he pulls your panties down your legs at an unbearable slow pace.

You don’t look away.

You don’t dare look away.

Finally, finally, he breaks eye contact, sliding your panties over your feet, and putting them into his pocket as you brace yourself for what comes next.

“We should-,” you start, your words ceasing instantly as he spreads your legs, licking a stripe up your dripping wet core. You cry out loudly, panicking almost instantly, because you don’t remember locking the damn door.

We should stop.

Do this elsewhere.

Lock the door.

Keep quiet.

But you can’t seem to get the words out, as you let out another loud moan, and Carmy doesn’t have the heart to stop you. Something primal inside of him wants nothing more than for the whole party mere hallways away to hear you crying out his name.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue through your folds. “Already so wet for me and I’ve barely even put my mouth on you.”

He wonders if there’s an award for this.

Lifetime Loser Award.

2023’s Most Jealous Boyfriend

Chef Most Likely to Fuck His Girlfriend During the James Beard Reception Because He’s a Sad, Jealous Fuck.

“Carmy, please,” you beg, scooting your hips off the counter and pulling him up from the ground. Your demand rips him from his own self deprecating thoughts.

“I need you inside of me. Now.”

You need him.

“Turn around,” is all he says.

He’s not sure where he gets the confidence for such a demand and it has you clenching around nothing.

You’re more than happy to oblige as you whisper out a ‘yes,’ and turn yourself around to face the mirror. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, then he’s hiking up the skirt of your dress once more. He puts his hands on your hips to steady you – maybe even to steady himself – and you can feel the head of his cock running through your folds.

Just when you think you may die if you don’t get what you want, you let out the loudest cry you think has ever come out of your mouth as he pushes inside of you. You gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you feel him shudder against your back. Your head hangs low, just focusing on memorizing how every single inch of him feels inside of you.

Carmy’s thrusts are slow at first, deep and deliberate thrusts burying himself all the way to the hilt. The sight of his cock disappearing inside of you is really testing his patience here as he thinks he may go insane.

Back out.

Then back in.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ perfect for me. God, I love being inside of you,” he groans, enjoying his last few slow and deep thrusts.

He’s got one hand on your hips and the other, wrapped around your waist. As he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts, the hand around your waist goes to the counter too, to brace himself.

“Carmen,” you moan his name, as he starts to go faster. “Yes. Perfect for you. Only you.”

Only you.

Your words cause him to smirk, and the sounds you’re making only encourage him to keep fucking into you like he means it.

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says, his words causing you to squeeze around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back, before he returns his gaze to the mirror.

When you lock eyes, it’s like you’ve been set on fire. Your skin feels hot, and the prolonged eye contact has you squeezing around him as you start to grind against him. You feel lightheaded, breathless, purely at his mercy.

Carmy holds your gaze through the mirror and you want to commit this photo to memory. You watch your reflections in the mirror, seeing your face change as he speeds up again. His hands are everywhere: in your hair, grabbing you breasts, tracing over the little marks he’s left all over your chest.

“This how I make you feel? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he asks, and you think this is the most vocal he’s been during sex.

“So good, Car,” you’re panting. He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head to the side so that he can kiss you. You manage to continue your praise in between wet, sloppy, and desperate kisses, and desperate thrusts between the both of you.

“So fuckin’ good. So high. Like I’ll never come back down.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, feeling more and more confident with each thrust. You can tell he likes it, so you decided, why the hell not?

“You feel incredible inside of me, baby,” you continue, wanting nothing more than to appease him.

He’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues to fuck you, your pushing your ass back against him, your hands bracing against the mirror. You see stars as he hits that spot inside of you – the one that makes you let out a sob – and he’s bending you over the counter so that he can find that spot again and again. Carmy presses his forehead against your shoulder as his hands move underneath your skirt once again, rubbing fierce circles around your clit, trying to take you there with him. He knows he won’t last long when you’re moaning his name like that. He looks up for a moment, enjoying the reflection in the mirror a little too much, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, feeling himself get closer… closer…

You can feel he’s close too, so you say something, something you know will bring him over the edge.

“Want you to cum inside of me.”

“That what you want? Want me to fill you up? Have me dripping down your legs when any other fucko tries to talk to you tonight. Tries to even fuckin’ look at you…” he asks, his breath ragged and sentences becoming increasingly choppy.

He's leaving little kisses and bite marks all over your upper back as he continues to fuck you.

“Yes,” you pant, moaning his full name once again.

“Fffffffuck, baby. That’s so hot,” he stutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He grabs a handful of your ass, chasing his high with you.

You’re squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see stars when he finds that spot again, and you remember that he wanted you to watch. You blink open your eyes, breathless as you take in the image of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He’s got his forehead resting on your shoulder. You feel the delicious contradiction of pain and pleasure once again, as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, in the same place from before.

So close. And you're already so tender.

“Carmen. Yes. Right there. Please, baby. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you’re crying out as you as your walls clamp down around him. It’s like an explosion erupts inside of you and you feel that you perhaps are on another fuckin’ plane of existence from the way he makes you feel.

Your eyes close again as he fucks you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher. The way your walls are squeezing around him have him on edge and he gives you one, two, and then a third thrust before painting your walls with his release too.

He stops, resting his head on your back again, still buried all the way inside of you.

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, before you interrupt the status quo with a laugh.

“Holy shit, babe,” you finally say, exasperated and completely fucked out.

He pulls out of you, and you have to put a hand down on the counter he just bent you over, for balance as you stand up straight. You can hear Carmen pulling his pants back up and you’re adjusting your dress as you turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the button of his trouser pants, as you grab his face for another long, lust-filled kiss.

“What do you say… to getting out of here? Maybe continuing this at home?” you propose, your voice hoarse from what you’ve just done. Your forehead is still pressed to his and you want nothing more for him to say ‘yes.’

“Fuck yes. Please,” he practically groans, wondering how it’s possible for him to be hard again already.

“I’ll order a car,” you agree, reaching for where you left your phone on the dressing room counter.

“Surge rates, babe” he sighs, the disappointment evident in his voice as he issues the little reminder.

You shoot him a look that says ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?’

“I will pay all the surge rates in the world, if I get to have you again, as soon as possible,” you state, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait till you get home.

You glance back down to your phone, your fingers moving quickly through the right buttons to get a car on the way. As soon as you see the confirmation, your swiping out of the app, and over to an unread message:

Sydney: So that was weird. Where did you guys go?

You: Out for some air. Sorry, we’ll be right back in.

Sydney: Angel wants pizza and a few of us are gonna go. Wanna come with?

You: Think we’re gonna head home. Breakfast tomorrow? My treat.

Sydney: 100%

You: Congratulations again, friend. Love you.

“What’s going on?” Carmy asks, as he sees you fiercely texting away.

“Nothin’,” you answer, seeing the Uber notification popping up on your phone. “Just telling everyone we’re gonna head home.”

You turn your back to the mirror to examine the damage, immediately spotting Carmy’s bite mark on your shoulder.

“Carmen,” you sigh, fingertips running over the huge bite mark on your shoulder – the one he left when he made while cumming inside of you.

Carmy takes a look, a small smirk on his lips as he sees what you’re referring to. He has to admit that he’s almost… proud of himself as he leans over, leaving a soft kiss against one of the rapidly forming purple bite marks left on the back of your shoulder.

As much as he’d like to show the entire culinary world that you’re his, he removes the suit jacket he just put back on, and hands it to you.

“Here. You can wear this.”

You giggle, taking it and appreciating Carmen’s act of chivalry.

“As much as I’d love to do a walk of shame through a room full of the world’s best chefs… think I’ll keep this one between me and the one that just fucked me,” you joke playfully, as you kiss him as a ‘thank you.’

You check your reflection in the mirror as you drape the coat strategically over your shoulders, making sure you both look somewhat presentable enough to flee the scene with dignity.

“Carm?” you ask.

“Before we leave. I just-, I want you to-,” you stammer, uncertain if you’re doing the right thing by telling him. You’d hate to play into Nate’s little game – even if you both won after what just happened.

“Hmm?”

“Just… you know… for the sake of factual accuracy and not that we’re playing Nate’s game at all but... you and I hooked up first. Nate just doesn’t know that.”

He nods in response, trying not to make it seem like a big deal.

But it certainly makes him feel better.

“Well, if we’re being factually accurate…” he offers up in response. “I know you always thought our whole rivalry thing was one sided… but it wasn’t.”

“No?”

“Rode that guy as hard as I could, every chance I got,” he confesses, in reference to your old, very toxic work environment.

“Because he deserved it?”

“Because I hated how much he flirted with you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. Your phone is buzzing in your hand, letting you know that your Uber has arrived.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bear.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #sydney adamu #make my heart surrender #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMAb4KUo/

Smut w biker Ethan Landry ?!

Hi💕 I hope you like it! I got out of the hang of writing over the last few days so I might go back and make a few changes once i re-read over this at some point lmao

Roll Up - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your boyfriend's new hobby scares you, but he shows you it isn't that bad.

Contains: Oral(f receiving), p in v, rough-ish sex.

A/N: We're going to pretend that this isn't based off of the photoshopped pics of Jack lmao. If this sucks, don't let me know. I'm sensitive👉👈

When your boyfriend mentioned getting his motorcycle license, you thought he was crazy. You even created a power point presentation, showing him how dumb of an idea it was. He just rolled his eyes every time you made a good point, because he knew it was what he was going to do regardless.

“You aren’t going to break up with me if I get a bike, are you?” he asked, putting on his shoes as he got ready to go take the driving test. “I think it’d be a lot of fun to have one.”

“It’d take a lot more for me to break up with you…but what if something happens to you? I’d just be worried the whole time you were out,” you sighed, getting a little anxious.

You heard a knock on the door, as Ethan walked away from you to answer it. You took a deep breath when Chad walked in, carrying his extra helmet for Ethan.

“Why’d you have to corrupt my sweet boyfriend?” you asked, as Chad smiled at you.

“I think you’ll like it…Tara does,” he said, smirking at Ethan as he handed him the helmet.

“Yeah, what if I get one and you can’t keep your hands off me?” Ethan asked, cocking his eyebrow as he looked at you. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, and I’d not like to hear the sound of your eulogy being spoken,” you said, as Ethan scoffed.

“You’re so overdramatic,” he said, walking over to kiss you. He placed a kiss to the tip of your nose, your lips, and your forehead before he pulled away. “I love you, baby. Wish me luck.”

“I love you, too,” you said, as both boys walked to the door. Ethan stood in the doorway for a minute, waiting for you to hear the other thing he needed you to say. “Fuck it, fine. Good luck. Please, just be careful.”

“I will, babe,” he said, chuckling as he walked out.

One thing about Ethan was that the second he got an idea in his head, you knew he was going to stop at nothing to get what he wanted. This was by far the scariest thing he’d ever wanted to do, and you’d done nothing but panic whenever you thought about it.

It all started when Chad brought Ethan to his friend’s garage, and they were talking about Chad getting his license. At first you laughed it off, thinking it was about Ethan wanting to have more in common with his best friend, but once you saw him browsing for bikes online, you realized how serious he was about it.

Once he got his learners, he started to spend more time with Chad and his friend. He’d lay in bed with you until you fell asleep, then sneak out of the bed once he’d get the text from Chad that he was outside. You hated it when you’d roll over and he wasn’t beside you, but you wanted him to practice when there were a lot less cars on the road.

He was always in the best mood when he’d come back home, still feeling the adrenaline. He tried to be quiet when he snuck back in, but you always woke up. You’d jump out of bed once you heard the shower cut on, strip off your clothes, and join him in the steamy bathroom. He’d tell you all the things he did and new stuff he learned as you sleepily listened, but it always ended in the hottest shower sex you’d ever had.

You kept checking the time on your phone, wondering what was taking Ethan so long to get back home. It’d been a few hours, and you were trying to prepare yourself. As worried as you were for him to get his license, you knew you’d be excited for him. But the possibility of him not getting it worried you more than if he did. You knew how much he wanted it, and you knew he’d be upset if he didn’t get it.

Once you saw Ethan’s name and picture flash across your phone screen, you quickly answered the call.

“Hey, babe,” you said, “How’d it go?”

You heard traffic passing him and sirens off in the distance.

“Come outside, I want to show you something.” You could hear the happiness in his voice, and you kind of had a hunch about what your boyfriend had done. Once you made your way down the stairs of your apartment complex and saw him standing there, a helmet under his arm and the matte black bike behind him, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I guess you passed,” you said, your eyes squinting as the early afternoon sunlight hit them just right. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“I can still tell you’re mad,” he teased, as he leaned down to kiss you. “but thank you.”

“This is yours, isn’t it?” you asked, as he tried to fight off the excited smile.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t hate me because I didn’t talk to you about it first,” he said, reaching around and grabbing the extra helmet off the bike seat. “I want you to go on a ride with me.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, his smile dropping at your words. “Not right now, can we go out later tonight? I’m a little scared and I’d feel better if I didn’t feel like we were going to get hit.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile appearing on his lips again. “I think you’ll love it.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, as he grabbed your hand and led you inside.

As it got darker outside, Ethan got more excited. He knew how close he was to taking you out to see what made him almost as happy as you do. As much as you were freaking out, you knew he’d never put you in danger, and you really wanted to know what the big deal was.

“Okay,” Ethan said, as you slipped your hoodie over your head. “Just a few quick things…I know it’s a little scary, but you need to lean into any turns we take. Don’t ever let go of me and sit as close to me as you can.”

“If we lean, won’t you lose control?” you questioned, as he shook his head.

“We’re not doing anything crazy so don’t think I’m going to take you on any super curvy roads…but if you stay upright when we need to lean, that could cause me to lose control.”

“Okay,” you sighed, as he handed you the helmet.

He looked you over to make sure nothing on you was loose fitting and made sure your helmet was good before he slung his leg over the bike.

“You coming?” he asked, his hand reaching out to help you on.

“There’s not a lot of room back here,” you said, as he slid his helmet over his head.

“I already told you, just hold on to me, and stay as close as you can. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his words a little muffled. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, as he started the bike. Your arms tightly wrapped around him, his hand rubbing against your thigh to let you know he had you before he pulled off.

He took you on a few of the streets he first learned how to drive on, not wanting to freak you out too much. Once you came to a stop light, he started to yell over the hum of the bike.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand moving to rub against your thigh again.

“Yeah, you aren’t going very fast, though,” you yelled back, as he started to laugh to himself.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, “I just didn’t want to scare you.”

“You can go faster, just don’t kill us,” you said, as the light turned green.

He revved the engine before he sped off, going significantly faster than he did before. You didn’t feel scared though, you were…turned on? You weren’t sure if it was the vibrations coming from the bike, or how hot your boyfriend was at that moment, but you knew you were going to jump him as soon as the two of you got back home.

He started to drive out of the city, taking you to one of the back roads he’d always pull off at with his friends. He stopped in the gravel area and helped you off the bike before he got off.

“Was that too much?” he asked, pulling the helmet off of his head. You quickly pulled yours off, mumbling a “No” as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your hands went up to his curls as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You stood there making out, the only light coming from the full moon and the glow of the headlights.

“We need to go home soon,” you said against his lips, “I understand why you always want sex after your late-night rides.”

“We’ll head home soon babe,” he said, his hand reaching down to squeeze your ass as he pulled you closer. “Or…we could do it right here.”

“I know this is a back road, but someone could still see us,” you said, glancing at the road for any other cars off in the distance.

“So what?” he asked, as his lips moved to your neck.

He pulled away once he heard the familiar loud hum heading up the road, slowing down a little once it got closer to where you and Ethan were.

“Is that Chad?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.

“Tara’s with him,” he said, noticing her tiny frame tightly clinging to him. “Good think I didn’t get you naked yet,” he laughed a little, thinking about how awkward that would’ve been.

“You know how I am when I want sex and I don’t get it,” you said, giving him a warning look. “Please don’t get caught up in talking for too long.”

“I won’t, babe,” he said, as Chad pulled in and took his helmet off.

“She didn’t kill you!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes.

Ethan walked up to him as you walked over to Tara. She had the biggest smile on her face when she saw you standing there.

“Ahh! We can go on late night rides together, now!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Isn’t this fun?”

“Yeah, I thought it was going to be scary,” you said, glancing over to Ethan to see him smiling at you. “Now I just have to convince him to take me home soon.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” she said, picking up on your suggestiveness.

When Ethan walked around to you, he looked a little nervous as Chad motioned for Tara to get back on the bike.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Chad wants to ride around for a little bit. There’s this straight, flat road near here that we like to go way faster than we should, but if you’d rather go home, we can.”

“As long as we go home soon, I’m fine with it,” you said, as Ethan started to smile.

“Put your helmet back on,” he said, walking you back over to his bike.

He slid his over his head and helped you get on the back before he started it again and took off. You got a little confused once you hit a certain point in the road. Chad and Ethan both came to a stop on opposite sides, as you felt his hand grip your thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, the question making you nervous as Chad gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you yelled, as he said, “Hold on tight.”

He revved the engine again before taking off, going way faster than he’d gone before, at least while you were on the back. The way you were rested against Ethan made it easy for you to see that Chad was keeping pace with him before he dropped a gear and flew past Ethan. Ethan did the same, your grip on him getting even tighter as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. He quickly caught back up to Chad and passed him before he started to slow down a little.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, once he came to a stop and your grip on him relaxed.

“If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I’m not going to be okay,” you said, as Chad pulled up beside you and pulled his helmet off.

“Fuck, that thing’s fast,” he said, as Ethan pulled his helmet off.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it. We were going over a hundred,” Ethan said, your eyes going wide as you listened to him speak. “I’m going to take her home.”

“You coming back out later?” Chad asked, as Ethan shook his head.

“No, I have other plans,” he said, as Chad nodded.

“You guys have fun. Don’t be an idiot,” Chad said, putting his helmet back on before speeding off.

“Over a hundred?!” you yelled, as Ethan started to laugh.

“Yeah, and I wasn’t going as fast as I could’ve,” he said, putting his helmet back on. “Let’s get you home.”

As soon as he got you home, you both were so needy. Various clothing items were scattered across your apartment, from the front door to the bedroom you shared with Ethan. He wasted no time, burying his head in between your thighs as soon as he pushed you back on your bed. Your fingers ran through his curls as soft moans slipped past your lips. His hands were kneading at your thighs as his tongue swirled around your sensitive clit.

“Use your fingers, babe,” you gasped out, as he suckled on your clit. He did what you said, sliding two of his fingers into your soaked, dripping pussy with ease. “Fuck, just like that.”

“Did being on the back of my bike turn you on that much?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he curved his fingers to brush against that spongy spot inside of you. “Yes,” you said, letting out a low moan. “You were just so fucking hot.”

His mouth went back to your clit as you tugged at his curls, the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers and your moans filling the room. His free hand was roaming your body, from your thighs up to your breasts. Once he started to pinch one of your nipples, you felt that familiar feeling starting to build inside of you.

Ethan knew you were close. Your legs were starting to shake as his fingers moved against your g-spot faster. He sucked your clit into his mouth, hard. Your back arched up off the bed as you pulled his hair so hard that it hurt. He didn’t let up though.

You let out a whimper as the feeling washed over you, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. He gently lapped at your clit until you started to come down from your high.

The grip you had on his hair relaxed as he sat up to look at you, his mouth coated in your arousal.

“Do I still have hair?” he asked, running his fingers through his curls. His scalp was so sensitive that he winced when he touched it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you mumbled, as your breathing started to get a little more regular.

“It’s worth it if I made you cum that hard,” he said, smiling at you. “I loved having you on the back of my bike. It’s like you weren’t scared at all.”

“I wasn’t. I trust you.”

As much as Ethan loved watching your face when he fucked you, he wanted to be as deep as he could inside your warm, wet pussy. He positioned you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him as the side of your face rested against the cool comforter.

“So fucking perfect,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet folds. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes,” you said, as he started to inch himself inside of you. The slight burning feeling as he stretched you out made you gasp, his hand roaming over your lower back as his hip bones met the curve of your ass.

He started out with slow thrusts, still giving you time to adjust. Once you whined out to let him know you wanted more, he moved faster. You heard the soft slapping of his skin against yours as the head of his cock hit that special spot inside of you. You glanced back to see him watching his cock disappear inside your pussy, slide himself out, head and all, before he started to pound into you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes still on him as your hands grabbed at the sheets.

He looked up to watch your body as you started to roll your hips back, meeting his thrusts. His cheeks were red as his mouth hung open, a few of his curls sticking to his forehead. One of his hands tightly held your hip as his other hand reached around brushing against your lower stomach. You soon felt two of his fingers strumming against your clit, your moans getting louder by the second.

“Harder,” you whimpered, a smirk playing on his lips as he started to mercilessly pound into your pussy.

“That’s it, baby. You take it so fucking well,” he said, some of his words getting broken by the random grunts slipping past his lips.

Once he put the right amount of pressure on your clit and started to roll his fingers in circles, you felt your body start to tense up, your orgasm sneaking up on you. You were a whimpering mess as the slapping sounds got louder, echoing off the walls. He was getting close, but he was trying so hard to fight it.

He watched your fists ball up in the fitted sheet, pulling it lose as you cried out. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight that his thrusts started to falter.

“Where do you want it?” he rushed out, but you couldn’t form words, completely fucked out.

He slid out of you, releasing his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. His hand ran through his sweaty hair before he flopped down on the bed beside you. Your hips started to relax as you eased the lower half of your body to lay flat across the bed.

“Jesus,” he sighed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Was it as good as the shower sex?” you asked, smiling as you turned your head to face him.

“Well, we do still need to shower…”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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camryn-haitani · 5 months

Text

I know darling

Colby Brock x Fem!Reader

you sent Colby a lengthy paragraph about all the things you want him to do to you. and he makes everything you sent come true

TW: Dom Colby, p in v sex, fingering (Fem receiving), teasing, video masterbation (from Colby), mentions of Sam joining and watching, face fucking (Fem receiving), fingering, name calling "love, baby, angel, sweetheart, good girl, good bitch, pretty girl, bitch, whore, slut", praise and degradation, cursing, video during it, aftercare, plot twist

I am a firm believer that Colby is into face fucking

- - - - - - - - - - -

once I started texting the words I wanna say, they wouldn't stop coming. once I felt like I said enough to get him going, I sent it along with a spicy pic of me in his favorite lingerie. and now I wait for his response.

Colby POV

That was one of the scariest things we've ever caught on camera. me, Kris, and Sam decided we had enough and packed up to go home. we all get in the car and wait for the long car ride home.

once we get into a town, I finally have service and I get a shit ton of notifications. the one that caught my eye was the one y/n sent. I see she sent a long paragraph along with a photo. I was expecting a message about how much she misses me. holy shit I was wrong.

what I'm reading is the most spine chilling, boner inducing, and cock throbbing thing I've ever read. the more I read, the more hard I get. I grab my xplr hoodie and cover my lower half, not wanting Sam to see my boner.

we still have a 3 hour car ride back to LA, I'm not gonna make it that long. my breath get harsh and fast. Sam notices and says something. "hey man, you good?" he asks as he hits my arms. "yeah uhm I'm good, just thinking about the stuff that happened earlier."

I'll give it an hour and see if it goes away.

*an hour later*

well it's been an hour and I still have a boner. I roll my eyes and try to think of an excuse.

"hey Sam uh pull over to a gas station, I uhm have to piss" I lie. "I got you man" Sam pulls over to a gas station and I quickly run out of the car and into the bathroom. I sigh as I pull down my pants when an idea popped in my head.

I pull out my phone and start recording.

*a little while later*

I finish and clean myself up as i send the video to y/n.

me: video

me: I hope you enjoy this love

Y/n POV

I hear my phone buzz and I open it without hesitation. I see he sent a video and I watch it from beginning to end.

me: can't wait for you to get home daddy~

I know that name gets him going and I wanna see what happens. not even 5 minutes later, I get another text from him.

colbs<333: god you have no idea what you do to me, angel. when I get home, you better have my favorite outfit on with your head hanging off the side of the bed<3

me: yes sir<33

since I have his location, I can see how far away he is. he's about an hour and a half away from home, so when he gets about 10 minutes away from home, I'll do what he says.

*an hour and a half later*

I get more and more excited when I watch his icon get closer and closer to our house. I decide to get changed into his favorite lingerie and lay down on the bed.

I hear the door open and I hear stuff slam on the ground with fast foot steps coming up the stairs. I quickly put my head off the side of the bed just like he said. the door swings open and I see him with lustful eyes eating me alive.

"goddamn angel, you look gorgeous" he walks closer to me. his rough, calloused hands run all over my body as he ogles me. every movement he makes on my body, I twitch with anticipation.

he plays with my tits as he runs his fingers over my nipples over the lingerie as a whimper elicits from my mouth. I feel his boner on my cheek in his pants, wanting to be let out. I lift my hand up to caress his cock. I wrap my hand around it and barely squeeze it. he groans as he steps back to free his aching cock.

"you ready, princess?" he asks as he places his cock on my lips. I nod vigorously and open my mouth, spit already coating his leaking tip.

"just tap my thigh if you can't breathe" he reassures. I nod as he taps his cock on my tongue a few times before shoving his cock in my throat. I gag but then get used to it.

I let him use my throat for whatever he needs. there's pre-cum and saliva dripping down my chin and my mouth.

his thrusts get more harsh. 'hes about to cum' I think to myself. "gonna.... fuck.. close.." he mutters. he can't even pronounce words. I grab his waist and pull him further into my mouth. "fuck!" he yells, unknowingly I was going to do that.

I feel his cum drip down my throat and chin. I sit up and gather his cum and put it back in my mouth. he does the same with my spit.

his eyes widen for a second, like he has an idea. he pulls out his phone and starts recording.

"oh Sam would love this, wouldn't he?" he teased his fingers on my slit. I can only nod, my mind is cloudy and my eyes dizzy with pleasure. "I need words, pretty girl." he says, curling his fingers up in me. "yes! he would love seeing me like this!" I yell. Colby chuckles at my words.

"seeing you like this. being such a slut for me." his fingers get more and more quick. I know that him and Sam have done something like this in the past, but Sam watching me is so erotic to me.

"go ahead and tell the camera how much of a slut you are. for me and Sam. go on bitch."

"fuck Sam, I want you in me. I want you and Colby to fuck me so hard it hurts to walk. please Sam" I beg with pleasing eyes.

"good bitch" his fingers get more aggressive and he can tell I'm getting close.

he rips his fingers out of me as I'm about to cum. "w-what... why.. please, I want it... wanna cum for you" I plead into the camera.

he grabs my cheeks "only good sluts get to cum. this is what you get for getting me hard in the car. you knew I was with Sam and yet, you still did it. it's like you wanted Sam to know." he coos.

"yes! I wanted Sam to know! I want you both to fuck me!" I whine.

"that's what I thought, you whore" he lines up his cock and slides it up and down my wet folds.

"daddy please I need you." I beg. "fine, only because I'm so fucking hard for you" he rams his cock into me without a second thought.

"why don't you tell Sam what you want him to do to you, hm?" Colby teases. "want.... want you to fuck my face while Colby e-eats me out" my hands cover my face in embarrassment.

he rips my hands from my face "I think Sam would wanna see your pretty face as I fuck you." he pins my hands above my head as he slides his cock in and out of me.

his pace gets faster and his rhythm gets sloppy. my legs wrap around his waist, wanting him closer in me.

he apparently liked that because I feel him twitch in me. "fuck... gonna cum in your pretty pussy, huh? you want me to cum in you, fucking slut"

"shit..... yes yes yes please." I beg more.

his final push in me makes me unravel the knot in my stomach. my back arches as my legs tighten around his waist.

his breath slows as he picks himself up and goes to our bathroom. he runs a washcloth under water and comes back to clean us up.

Colby wore a smirk on his face that I couldn't see. "hey baby, can you get the cameras from downstairs please? I wanna edit some footage from earlier"

"yeah sure" I struggle to go downstairs but I make it through

I turn the corner and there he is…

Sam

he was downstairs this whole time

"uhm uhh... hi?"

"hello beautiful" he says as he stands up and walks towards me. he puts a finger under my chin and makes me look at him "you sounded lovely up there. calling out for me. I hope you meant every word up there because I plan on making those things true. " he whispered in my ear.

his phone goes off. "I wonder what this is" he says sarcastically. he pulls up the video Colby took of me. "I hope I make you sound like this" he kisses your neck and walks out the door.

“fuck”

- - - - - - -

this has been in my head for a looooong time

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #x reader #colby #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach #xplr #sam #im feral for these 2 #please help #colby brock smut #smut

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princessmaybank · 28 days

Note

hi princess, I hope your break is going well <33 this is like super specific but could you do a jj x Routledge!reader with super blonde frizzy hair nd jj doesn’t know she dyes it brown until he walks in on her with a lions mane getting dye ready

No pressure at all for u to get to this, i love ur work so so much and I hope you’re going okay princess <333 thank you

thank you for the request! wasn't sure if you wanted smut in there but that's how all of my Fics end up so I'm assuming you do! I'm sorry this turned so dark if you wanted it fluffier. I have recently started Haunting Adeline 😂🤭🩷

Hair Dye

Pairings: JJ x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: Surprise Kiss, Fingering, Rough!Dark!JJ, Spanking, Panty Ripping, Hair Pulling, Choking, P in V, Creampie, Caught, etc.

Summary: Read the ask^

Author's Note: Wrote this so fast, I hope you like it, sorry it's so late!

"I just don't see the point, dad and I have brown hair, you got blonde hair, you should feel special!" John B says as I walk down the aisle searching for the color I want. "That's exactly the point JB. I feel left out. It's odd, plus people have asked us way too many times if we're dating, even though we have the same face." JB rolled his eyes in defeat as I found the shade of brown I was searching so hard for. I was so excited that I could barely wait until we got home.

"Hey JJ is coming over soon!" I hear JB yell from the kitchen as he puts away some groceries. "I expect nothing less. Your boyfriend basically lives here!" I laugh as I go into the bathroom and read the instructions. Once I think I finally have it down and the parts mixed together, my brother calls me into the kitchen. "I'm gonna start cooking dinner. Is there any way I am going to talk you out of this? Blonde hair takes a long time to come back." He says and almost on cue JJ stumbles in the front door. "And yet yours keeps coming back." I say throwing my thumb over my shoulder. He chuckled at my stupid joke and ruffled my hair, causing it to frizz up even more than it already had.

"Hey there, hot stuff." JJ said with a wink. I roll my eyes before walking to the bathroom. "He was talking to you!" I shout teasing JB about his best friend. "I definitely wasn't but okay. What's with her?" I hear him ask my brother. I put the gloves on and get a towel ready under my neck. "She's going to dye her hair. I kept trying to talk her out of it. Fuck, I forgot something at the store. I'll be back, try not to kill each other." I heard the screen door slam as John B ran out.

I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway until they reached me. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it too are you?" I say setting down the bottle of dye. "Not gonna try shit" I breathe out a sigh of relief. "You're not doing it." He demanded. "Who do you think you are?" I ask with a full attitude. "Y/N. You don't need to dye your hair." I shook my head. "I want to!" I whined. JJ went to grab the bottle of hair dye and so did I. Eventually he tore it from me and held it above his head. I wasn't able to reach it and he laughed because he thought he had won. I looked him in the eyes and took his face in my hands, planting a big kiss on him. when his lips moved back and forth with mine, I knew he'd drop his arm any second. And he did. I took the chance and stole my bottle back running to the guest bedroom and trying to make it to that bathroom. I wasn't aware JJ was right behind me until I was pinned against the bathroom door.

"Why must you be a little brat all the time?" He asked. JJ's eyes are dark now. This wasn't a game anymore. He removed the bottle from my hand, I let him take it because I was so stunned by this sudden change. "You're. Not. Dying. It." He said with a low menacing voice. "Jay-" I tried to plead, I don't know why, but he was scaring me. He was also kind of arousing me. I never had these feelings for my brother's best friend, maybe it was just how dark he felt in this moment.

He stared into my eyes before placing his lips to mine once again. It felt different this time, I felt a zing, coursing through my veins. His fingertips were now bruising my hips as he lightly humped me through our clothes. This felt unreal. I peak my eyes open for a moment. Yep. it was still JJ. He was still grabbing me with an intense force and grinding his rock hard cock into me.

My eyes shut again and I just went with it. His right hand moved to unbutton my shorts. When he found his way in, he didn't tease, he only plummeted two fingers into my soaked core. "He won't be gone long, if there's something you want from me..tell me now." He demanded again. My eyes stared into his begging to be fucked but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. "F-fuck me.." I whispered through my breath, unable to think as his fingers moved back and forth. "Speak up." His harsh tone scared me slightly but I said my phrase again, louder so he could hear.

His fingers escaped my opening, causing a whine to spill from my lips. He rolled his eyes before pulling my shorts down. I kicked them to the side before I was roughly turned around and slammed up against the door. A gasp flew out of me unexpectedly followed by another when I felt him slap my ass. I let out loud moans as he continued, taking turns with my cheeks. When they were blood red, he squeezed them in his hands. I hissed from the sensitivity he caused.

He toyed with my panties for a few seconds before he spoke. "You don't need these." He chuckled lightly before I heard a ripping sound. Shock was written all over my face as he tore the rest of the thin fabric off of my body. His fingers found my slick folds and teased them for a moment. I was about to chime in before hearing the sound of a zipper and shorts dropping to the ground. I didn't have enough time to process the noise before I felt his cock slide inside me. He let out a dark groan and quickened his pace, not letting me adjust to his size. He was going so fast and so hard. I was a moaning mess. My head started to fall but he didn't let it get too far. His hand pulled me back by my hair while his other wrapped around my throat. His fingertips squeezed tighter, not giving me much room to work air in or out. "You like that? Like my hand wrapped around your throat while you take my cock?" He asked and all I could do was give a small nod before he pulled my hair again, so now my ear was against his lips. "What would John B say if he walked in on us right now? Think he'd be pissed to see his sister with my cock jammed in her tight pussy?" He teased.

Those words were enough to cause an eruption in me. My orgasm hit me like a freight train and slid down his cock and onto his thighs. His hand left my throat and fell to my hips as I pulled in as much air as possible. He fucked me hard a few more times before his cum leaked inside of me.

The sound of the screen door opening and closing apparently wasn't enough to get JJ's dick out of me. My throat was tired, I couldn't mutter a word and JJ knew that. He rode out his high which made my eyes roll back. It was enough for me to squeeze my thighs together and cum again.

"JJ when I said anything, this is not what I meant!" JB shouted. We never even heard him walk in, but we heard the bedroom door slam. We cooled down and I went into the bathroom to inspect my neck. There were bruises where JJ had a hold of me. "What did he mean by that?" I asked. JJ was a lot brighter now. "Oh he messaged me before you two got home and told me to make you not dye your hair. He said to do anything I have to." He chuckled. "Wasn't planning this.." He said pointing to my neck. "But I'm glad it happened." He shrugged and kissed my forehead. A smile spread onto my face before I laid my head on his chest. He held me in his arms and I promised to never dye my hair.

"Good, I like pullin' on this blonde lion's mane." He giggled before I swatted at his chest.

#outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

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paradiseprincesss · 14 days

Note

hopefully this isnt much of an ask but would you be willing to make a jonathan crane x coworker!reader where we sort of intimidate him and or tease him and its kinda like enemies to lovers can be smut or not thank you!! :)

after hours - jonathan crane x reader

i saw this request and i was like...i fear this concept ate. i fw it!! this was fun to write - i got this finished within a few hours cause i was like whewww okay i like it. i hope u enjoy this anon! <3

summary: you work as a nurse (take a guess at what i major in...it had to be done. i saw an opportunity and took it.) at arkham asylum, and there's one person you work with that you just cannot stand - dr. jonathan crane.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, swearing, kissing, p in v, just general smut but also fluff hehe

you threw your car in park, your favourite colour water bottle in hand as you got out of the car in your scrubs. you had thrown your hair up in a claw clip that matched your water bottle, feeling cute - and made your way into arkham asylum.

you'd just started working at arkham - you were a new grad nurse, and you were excited! the pay was pretty high in comparison to other places that were hiring, i.e the hospital, so you jumped at the opportunity.

your coworkers and colleagues were all super sweet, and you were navigating your first few days around at work with ease, fitting right in and learning more and more every day on the job.

as you got to the staff room, you placed your bag in the lockers and headed off to the nurses station. you skimmed through the papers littered on the table to see what you were assigned to do today, and noticed you were most likely going to be having a relatively chill day. it seemed that you were just going to be shadowing one of the psychiatrists today and learning more about acute patient management.

"morning," your co-worker who happened to be the night shift nurse, said to you as she approached you at the counter, "i'm going home now, but i couldn't help but notice dr. jenson wants you to shadow dr. crane today instead of assessing and monitoring patients." she tells you, taking in a sharp breath.

she seemed to notice the look of confusion that washed over your face and quickly clarified. "not that that's bad in any way! i just figured she would want you to be doing what you usually do since in the few days you've been here, you've been doing so good. dr. jenson is really impressed. you know, you're really great for a new grad nurse." she laughs softly.

"oh, well, i'm glad to hear that - thank you. i try." you say, smiling brightly, "i haven't had a chance to meet dr. crane yet, actually. i know he only works with...specific patients and stuff." you say to your colleague.

jonathan crane was known around the asylum as a rather brash and cold individual. he wasn't super friendly, and often kept to himself and worked tirelessly with the patients that were under his direct care. he was the acting chief of psychiatry at arkham and hardly had the time to socialize and mingle with the other staff members.

"well, good luck with that." your co-worker said as she collected her keys and waved goodbye to you before you had a chance to ask her what she meant by that.

suddenly, you heard a smooth voice say your name from behind you - and you turned around to see a tall man, around 6'2, with cerulean blue eyes and glasses, wearing a suit, tie and what appeared to be a sweater vest staring at you with a clipboard in hand.

"i'm doctor jonathan crane." he says flatly, introducing himself. you smile at him softly, and politely introduce yourself.

"i'd rather not waste time on small talk and introductions, i am fully aware of who you are." he says condescendingly, wiping the smile right off your face.

you say nothing in response, too embarrassed by his sharp tone and direct words - and you follow him as he gestures you to do so.

so much for a good first impression.

for the entirety of your shift, he just talked down to you. made it his personal goal to make you feel shitty about yourself; explaining things to you as if you didn't just spend the last four years of your life suffering through nursing school just to be told you didn't know what you were doing.

it was agitating - infuriating, really. you did know what you were doing. your higher ups even told you so - unfortunately, jonathan was the higher ups to your higher ups, so there wasn't much you could do.

you would do something and he would find a way to criticize it. you would finish giving medication to a patient, and he would scoff as if you were stupid. you would monitor patients and chart everything with accuracy, and he would tell you that you weren't doing it properly.

it frustrated you terribly, but to no avail, he never changed his ways. and honestly, he was the only one complaining! dr. jenson would never criticize you like that, in fact she always said that your performance was phenomenal.

you and your co-workers theorized that he may even be jealous or intimidated by you because you were such a diligent employee, especially for someone so young - and you seemed to do everything with ease.

but you never quite understood why he would feel that way, though, since the two of you had totally different roles and careers.

and that's how the first few weeks of working on shift with dr. crane was. since the two of you didn't work side by side constantly - hence you having two different occupations - you would sometimes get a break from his condescending attitude and harsh words. but over time, you'd come to almost enjoy the push and pull dynamic between the two of you - but you doubted that it was mutual.

yes, the first month or two was rough - he was a straight up piece of shit to you, but over time, it seemed he had laid off of being mean...partially. he was still sarcastic and full of attitude, but you would sometimes notice that it seemed lighthearted in nature, even if he didn't say it aloud or tried his best to hide it.

today, you came into work as per usual, but you were working rotating night shifts so you it was a little less hectic than usual. as you finished charting a patients vitals, you heard footsteps approach from behind you in the quietness of the upstairs ward.

turning around, you saw a sleepy dr. crane.

"hey," you say to him, "you're still here? it's almost 10. i thought you would've gone home by now."

he scoffs at you (as per usual), and throws a stack of paper on the nearby desk. "if you haven't noticed, i'm the acting chief psychiatrist here - i have a plethora of staff and patients, amongst other things, to manage and attend to."

you just shake your head with a small laugh, taking your latex gloves off, and offer him a teasing response. "i know that, calm down. it's not that serious - it was just a question, dr. crane."

a few months ago, you would have never talked to him in such a way, but now, you felt comfortable doing so. the dynamic had shifted between you - it was one of those love-hate relationships.

"god, you are insufferable." he groans.

"and you're stuck up. like genuinely." you retaliate, a small smile playing on your lips. he doesn't care to respond, and just scoffs once more, picking his papers up and seemingly heading out for the night.

you didn't see him for a good three weeks after that, but now you were back on your normal dayshift schedule, and you saw him in the middle of your shift as you were returning from a patients room after administrating some medication.

"jesus, jonathan, watch where you're going!" you exclaim, as he almost walks straight into you, aquamarine coloured eyes focused on the stack of patient forms in his hand.

he looked at you and grimaced. "you watch where you're going - you're the one holding the syringe in your hand. and here i thought you'd be one to know about work protocols." he sneers, and you huff. "god, you're insufferable." you say, mocking him.

he shoots you a dirty look, and you smirk. "hit a nerve?" you ask innocently.

"i could fire you right now if i wanted to." he says angrily, but you just laugh softly as you make your way down the hall, brushing past him to dispose of the syringe in your hand.

later that day, as you were getting ready to head home from your shift, jonathan came up to you in the staff room.

"i'd like to speak to you in my office, if you would please come with me." he informs you curtly, and you raise a brow.

"my shifts over, i don't work after hours." you flatly say back, and he scoffs. "don't get mouthy with me, i can assure you it'll take a few minutes at most."

you let out a dramatic little "ughhhh," and place your bag down, following him to his office. as you went into his office, you noticed the way it looked - dark. the blinds were closed, lights slightly dimmed, and all the future seemed to be in a dark oak colour. various degrees with his name were framed on the wall - his bachelors, masters, and doctorate all hung up proudly.

"quite the collection you got there, but a little excessive, don't you think?'' you tease, as you sit in a chair opposite of him at his office desk. "very funny." he deadpans, and you smirk. "what did you need to talk to me so urgently about?" you ask, but what he said next shocked you.

"i'm giving you a raise." he says plainly, and your jaw drops. you thought he fucking hated you - or at least found you painfully annoying.

"a-a raise?" you stammer, looking at him with surprise. he sighs, and nods. "yes, that is correct."

"don't get me wrong - i am so grateful, but why? you always...put down my work. criticize everything i do." you say, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

"i just- i just wanted to push you. i could see your potential." he says a little awkwardly, looking away.

"oh, i see." you say quietly, and he gets up the filing cabinet in the corner to sift through what you assumed were patient files.

"that's all. feel free to go." he says, tone gaurded, but as you got up to leave, you felt the sudden urge to stop in your tracks.

"wait- no. i still don't understand." you say, and he lets out an irritated sigh, staring at you with files in his hand. "i'm sorry - did you want me to take your raise back?" he asks rudely.

"i-i just don't know why you're so mean to me if my performance is so...good." you explain meekly, and he lets out another frustrated huff. "i told you, i was pushing you because i saw your...p-potential." he says, but you caught how he faltered at the end of his sentence.

"did you just stutter?"

"i will take back that raise. don't tempt me."

"tell me why you're so mean to me."

he stays silent for a moment, taking a few steps closer so that he was now standing towering over you. but he speaks up again, tone sharp and defensive. "are your cognitive abilities failing you? have you not heard what i've been saying? i said i saw potential-"

"that's such bullshit!"

"why does this bother you so much?"

"answer me!"

"i'm telling you i saw potential-"

"god i hate-"

but before you could say "you," his lips were crashing onto yours, and you melted into the kiss instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck. neither of you broke away, and the kiss deepened as he picked you up and placed you on top of his desk, holding your waist with a soft grip and your hands started to intertwine into his hair.

the two of you made out for a few minutes as he had you on his desk, but it didn't last long because both of you were just so fucking pent up. neither of you really hated each other - you just both found one another annoyingly attractive.

as he pulled away from the kiss, you wasted absolutely no time getting him out of his suit jacket, and quickly undid his tie as he took the top of your scrubs off.

"sorry." you suddenly say, and he looks at you confused. "what?"

you look down at the bra that you were wearing - it was kinda boring, you thought. just plain and black. "i didn't expect to be sleeping with my boss who hates me so i didn't really um...prepare?"

he just scoffs and continues to get you out of your clothes. "god, you truly are insufferable." but this time, it wasn't the same tone he usually took with you - no, it was different. it was for sure different. it was almost...loving.

he quickly unclasped your bra after fumbling with it for a few seconds. that was so him.

as you sat there on his office desk, in just your panties, you felt a little self conscious - you couldn't lie. subconsciously, you tried to cover up with your arms, but he stopped you.

"you're perfect - stop." he says softly, and you swore you saw him blushing. you didn't say anything back, but you slowly put your arms down and he took a deep breath in at the sight.

"beautiful." he whispers, before kissing you once more, sliding down your panties and fumbling with his own belt buckle. after a few mere moments of getting his pants off, his cock sprung free.

you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, and he took this opportunity to snake his hand behind your neck and softly hold onto your hair, pulling your head back to look at him.

he used his other hand to line up the head of cock with your now soaking cunt, and paused before looking back at you, cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

"tell me this is okay." he whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully. "oh, c'mon-"

"no. i'm your boss and i'm aware of the power imbalance between us. i need you to tell me that this is okay, sweetheart." he says to you, teasing your folds and making you moan.

"didn't take you for that kind of guy," you try to keep your composure, "but y-yeah, it's okay."

as you gave him the green light, he plunged his cock into you slowly, giving you time to adjust. as he stretched you open on his thick cock, you moaned and he cursed under his breath - your warm, wet, velvety walls sucking him in.

"oh fuck." you moan softy as he started to move slowly, as to not hurt you, wanting to be gentle. "i didn't know a cunt could be so tight-" he chokes, letting out a shaky breath.

"mmm- deeper, please." you whisper breathlessly, and he fucked you harder, deeper - faster.

you were a moaning, withering mess for him as his name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he moaned your name right back to you. "jesus - you feel amazing." he praised, and your cheeks burned at his sweet words.

the feeling of his cock plowing your tight cunt was dizzying, you could've sworn you almost felt him in your stomach. the both of you were breathing heavily and moaning, becoming a mess for the other.

"feels so good, don't stop." you moaned as kissed down your neck, biting occasionally, leaving marks. his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled your head back a little further, giving him better access to your neck - to mark you as his even more than he already was.

"j-jon-" you pant, "i-ah, i'm gonna cum!" you say, and he speaks lowly by your ear, "cum all over my cock, fuck- you're so beautiful."

the tone of his voice, the words he was saying, the way he was fucking you - all of it was too much, and suddenly, you were squirting whilst screaming his name.

"oh sweetheart," he exasperates, looking at you in awe, "fuck, that's so hot." his thrusts sped up significantly, chasing his own release and you felt yourself whimper from the overstimulation.

"gonna cum-" he pants, and you pull him closer. "cum inside, please." you beg, and he grips your hair with such force it almost hurts. "a-are you sure-"

"yes!" you moan, "j-just fill me up, please jonathan-" you say, clinging onto him for dear life, and his thrusts came to a still as he groaned, hot cum spilling deep inside of you.

he doesn't move just yet, still staying buried deep in your cunt - making sure you take every last drop of him. his fingers ghosted over the marks on your neck, a small smile tugging his lips, making you smile back at him dopily with a sigh.

"so this is what you get up to after hours." you tease, and he captures your lips in a soft kiss, making you moan in surprise.

after a moment, he pulls back, still smiling softly at you - looking at you like you were an angel that fell straight from heaven into his lap.

"never, sweetheart," he says, feigning offence, "i was too busy fantasizing about you - too busy falling in love with you."

and with that, he pulled you into another deep kiss with his hands wrapped around your waist, making your heart melt - because you loved him too.

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #dr jonathan crane #cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x female reader

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noxtivagus · 1 year

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MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

#🌙.rambles #aaaa i'm a bit late i accidentally slept when i lied down for a bit at 10 or so n just woke up bcs of a dream!#my sleep keeps on getting cut off lately 😭😭#that said though wait #OH NICE #checked out gbf recap of the stream n 🥺 hehe all the new charas n all n wtvr r so lovely #cassius my baby boy!!!! i'm probably gna make that my pfp on my doscord alt in the morning later #primarchs event at the end of the month i'm so fucking excited #n then other stuff too >< nier n fediel n the new divine general n everything YEAH #i'll watch parts of thw stream later #oh my god i only have like 5 hours of sleep how did i wake up #happy holidays though!!!! new year is so near.. that's more of my type of holiday hehe #oh dear i am v anxious ngl but being sleep-deprived n just woke up rn my brain is empty #i'm out of words to weite but i do hope for everyone to. enjoy the holidays n rest at least n #a good rest of december. n the year too #oh wait i'll delete my previous post i rambled too much there #this christmas is.. lonely. n i'm so tired. i don't know what to feel or do ar all but #it feels just so heavy n i'm so tired but i'll do what i know left. to just keep on forging ahead #n isk what to think of 2023 bcs a lot of good things happened but this is probably one of my worst years as well #it's so lonely inside i don't know what to do about it n i'm so tired n i feel so helpless bcs my energy is so drained #it weighs so so heavy.. all these regrets n burdens but i'll keep moving forward #i don't want tomorrows to come i want to just catch up n rest for a while #but time won't wait for me. i'll keep moving forward. forge ahead #it feels so.. empty. i'm too tired to be myself but i'll be fine eventually #someway somehow. so long as the morrow comes #i'll go back to sleep in a bit but this longing for the past n. idk the future is so painful. i don't feel like myself in the present #but i'll find my way. gn n happy holidays

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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

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Chapter 17- No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

Summary: You and Javi are continuing to make progress on building your new house, until a few distractions are thrown your way that you definitely weren't expecting.

Word Count: 12.3K (how bad is it that I'm like, wow! What an average length for a chapter! Well done, me!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), HELLO, STRAP IN EVERYONE. unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), romantic? ANAL (you guys, I'm sweating), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (f receiving), rimjob (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, insecurity but Javi being our consent KING and literally taking such good care of you (but would we expect anything less?!), Javi with dogs (hehehehe), everyone say thank you to our favorite village idiots Carter and Miller for helping out Javi and Osita (you'll see!!)

A/N: If there are two words to sum up the plot of this chapter, it is butts and dogs (if you watch Bluey, yes, the puppy is named after Muffin LMAO) 💀 I am so sorry this chapter took FOREVER, 1) Life has been crazy busy (parent teacher conferences sucked the life out of me for like a full week), and 2) I would be lying if I said I was not shakin' in my boots to post this bc I have never written legit butt stuff smut (say that 3 times fast) before and I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't wanna read this chapter/skip the smut I will not be offended at all!! Also for my non-American friends, Home Depot is like a giant hardware store (that also sells hot dogs that absolutely slap) Okay, that's all, love y'all more than words, forehead kisses for all of you!! 😙 also please laugh at the name of this chapter I thought it was funny as hell, I'm crackin myself up

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“Okay, we have paint samples, countertop samples, carpet samples, sheets of drywall, toilets that are ordered can come get picked up on Tuesday, and we can let Danny know they finally have those screws he’s been looking for back in stock. That’s everything, right? Please say that’s everything.” You sighed, going over your home project to-do list for what felt like the 47th time before exiting out of Home Depot for what also felt like the 147th time this week.

What had started as a plot of land and and a head full of ideas was slowly but surely becoming reality as progress on your new home came to fruition- as winter faded into spring, your house began to grow and change with the seasons, bare bones wooden beams and dirt of a few months ago now becoming walls, floors and roofs of the new place you’d spend forever in. While it was exciting to move into the stages of actually deciding what the inside of your home should look like (not just shape and size), it felt like you and Javi had been making a million and one decisions every day related to something to do with the house, and unfortunately, this Sunday night was no exception.

“No, I think that’s everything.” Javi nodded, scanning over the wrinkled piece of paper in his hands once more.

“We might as well just start changing our permanent address to this Home Depot. I’m pretty sure the employees are convinced we live here at this point.” You laughed, resting one hand on your hip, the other full of the sample swatches you and Javi needed to look at when you got home. “You sure that’s everything? Honestly, even if it’s not, let’s face it, we’ll be here some point later this week anyways. At least now it’s getting to the fun stuff- Paint and floors is a lot more fun than plumbing and electrical.”

“I know. We’re almost there, Osita. Danny said 8 to 10 more weeks last time I talked to him.”

“Over/under on how many more trips we make to Home Depot between now and then. I’m gonna say 56.”

“You’re such a dork. I fucking hope it’s not 56.”

The two of you made your way out to the parking lot with hands full of goods, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the other buildings of the shopping center- a Chinese restaurant, a laundry mat, a building that had been under construction since your frequent trips to Home Depot began, and a pet store.

You and Javi had tried the Chinese restaurant once, a few bites in simultaneously agreeing it was 100% the worst food you had ever had, never needed to go to the laundry mat, and god knows what the mystery building was getting turned into. You had, however, always wanted to go into the pet store, knowing it would be fun to walk around and look at the animals since it was something you loved doing as a kid with your brothers. But by the time the two of you were done with your hardware shopping, your brain was too fried to ever ask Javi if he wanted to go in and check things out as an entertaining thing to do. Tonight probably would have been no exception to the rule, but that was before you noticed the big sign posted in front of the store reading “Dog Adoption Event Today!”

You and Javi had both agreed you had wanted to get a dog- that was something the two of you had easily agreed upon early on in your relationship- but like most things nowadays, you were waiting until the house was finished and you were out of the apartment before looking into getting one. You knew that going to look at dogs before the two of you could really do anything about it was a bad idea, but the longer you stared at that sign, the less and less willpower you began to have to keep yourself from running over there.

“Jav.” You nudged, the two of you almost to Javi’s truck before stopping in your tracks, gesturing over to the pet store. Javi paused next to you, taking a moment to read the bright bold letters of the sign, letting out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Baby, you know we can’t get a dog right now. Believe me, I want one too, but we gotta wait until the house is done first.”

“I know. Can we just go look? Please?” While your puppy dog eyes were no match compared to Javi’s, you pouted your lip just about as far as it could go, batting your lashes at him with a pitiful frown on your face. You had no idea how Javi was ever going to be able to say no to your kids if he was already immediately caving from your silly, overexaggerated begging, let alone his own sweet brown eyes staring back at tiny versions of him. Regardless, right now, Javi’s lack of iron will was working in your favor, letting out another small sigh, contemplating for a moment before nodding his head in agreement.

“Fine. But just looking, okay?” He muttered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

“Yes! Thank you! I promise, just looking… Probably.” You grinned, changing directions and speed walking across the parking lot towards the pet shop. Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he followed behind you.

“I heard that.”

As you walked through the front doors of the pet store, you were greeted with the sounds of high pitched barks and yaps, joining the few people gathered by the pen set up to contain the litter of what looked to be a mix of cattle dogs and something shorter and stumpier, the brown and cream speckled puppies bouncing and playing with the toys, blankets, and other littermates in the cage with them. You audibly let out a gasp as you looked down at the pure adorableness of the sweet little balls of fluff below you, squatting down next to the pen to get a better look at the group of puppies.

“Oh my god, they’re so cute. Javi, they’re so freaking cute. Hi lil babies, aren’t you the most precious things ever?” You cooed, holding the back of your hand up to the cage for the playful puppies to sniff, their tiny bodies toppling over each other to smell you.

As much as Javi wanted to be tough and strong willed to try and prove a point, you were right- these puppies were the cutest things he’d seen in a long time. Crouching down next to you, he glanced over, giving you the I told you this was a bad idea look that you knew you were bound to get from him the moment you saw the puppies.

“They are really fucking cute.” Javi sighed in reluctant agreement, bringing his hand down by yours to try and pet some of the puppies through the cage.

“Oh hi there! I see you two found the puppies!” An employee, an older woman with curly gray hair, smiled down at the two of you, gesturing towards the pen full of tiny, yapping pups. “Are you interested in adopting one?” You and Javi looked up at her, each of you letting out a deep breath before speaking at the same time, your answers lacking unison.

“No.”

“Maybe.” You quietly whispered under Javi’s no, letting out a little shrug, eyes darting away towards Javi to spare yourself from the eye roll you knew he was giving you from your response. “No, we’re not…” You finally agreed, giving another pouty, sad look to Javi. “We really want one, but we’re in an apartment right now and are moving into a house soon. We’re waiting until then to get one. Although these guys are making it very hard to keep it that way.”

“I can understand that.” The woman laughed, a playful grin spread across her face, clearly sensing your willpower about the situation was much weaker than Javi’s. “Well, even if you’re not interested in adopting one right now, you’re more than welcome to pick them up or play with them! It’s good for them to practice being handled anyways.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Immediately, you stood up, bending over the edge of the pen to pick up one of the puppies closest to you, cuddling it against your chest as it squirmed and wiggled in your grasp. You sat bag down on the floor, cross legged as you cradled the puppy, eyes almost as wide and sweet as the dog you were now holding. “What’s this one’s name?” You asked the woman, carefully setting it down between your legs to let it bounce around.

“That one is Muffin. He’s a feisty one, but a sweetheart.” She beamed, slowly bending down to pick up one of the stuffed toys in the cage, handing it over to Javi. Before you knew it, Muffin was scooting out of your lap and bolting over to Javi and the plush rabbit he was holding in his hands, making the both of you giggle at his goofy, floppy gallop. Javi held out the toy in front of him, a smile spreading across his face as Muffin bit down into the rabbit, shaking it in his mouth, tugging back at Javi’s grip on the stuffed animal. Any shred of stubbornness Javi was trying to hold out on was long gone, smiling and snickering just as wide as you as Muffin hopped into Javi’s lap, curling up with his toy in his mouth.

Javi was like a little kid, practically giggling as he grabbed the stuffed rabbit and tossed it along the floor, watching Muffin slip and slide across the linoleum before pouncing on the toy and trotting back to Javi with it in his mouth.

“Good boy! You’re smart, aren’t you?” Javi grinned, tugging at the toy before looking back at you and your look, screaming, So much for just looking, huh? without having to say a word. “He is really cute.” Javi admitted, trying his best to keep his composure from completely crumbling. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, giving each other the look that made you seriously contemplate if you were going home with a puppy today, until you looked back down at Muffin, now hunched over Javi’s foot, pee dribbling down his shoe.

“Oh shit!” You grimaced, reaching up to pick up Muffin mid-stream, scooting him over to finish peeing on the floor instead of on Javi.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” The woman gasped, grabbing some towels next to the cage, handing them off to Javi for him to wipe the pee off his shoe. “That is the thing with puppies, the potty training does take a while.”

You were trying your best not to burst out into laughter as you picked Muffin back up, putting him back in the pen with the rest of his brothers and sisters, giving Javi and apologetic shrug at his current circumstances, knowing it was not helping your in any way shape or form to bring a puppy back to your apartment. “No it’s all good, no worries.” Javi smiled, wiping off his shoe with the towel and giving it a quick shake with a reluctant sigh, grounding him back in reality.

“Can’t be any worse than stepping in a pile of cow poop.” You teased as Javi looked down in disappointment at his shoe, finally beginning to shake his head and laugh along with you. “Alright, you win, Mr. Reasonable. Muffin has made a very good case for no puppies at the apartment.”

“Eventually baby, I promise.” Javi smirked, giving you a little nudge, the two of you waving goodbye to the cuteness corralled in the kennel behind you, finally making your way back to the car after your detour.

Well… So much for that plan.

“What about this one?”

“Baby, I don’t know, at this point, they all just look like the same color.” You sighed, slumping your hand in your face, resting your elbow on the kitchen table where you and Javi sat, paint swatches spread across the wooden surface, among scattered samples of carpet, countertops and backsplash tiles. “I don’t think my brain can make any more house decisions tonight.”

“Me either.” Javi huffed, reaching across the table to organize the paint sample cards into a pile next to the stack of other house things that now seemed to have a permanent home with you during dinner time. “I had no fucking idea there were so many goddamn shades of beige.”

“It definitely doesn’t help that we’re trying to just pick through different shades of brown instead of fun colors.” You laughed, gathering the samples in front of you and stacking them in Javi’s pile as he stood up, pushing in his chair and making his way to the other side of the table where you sat, coming behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you leaned your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his to pull him closer.

“Fun colors? What, you wanna paint the house purple, Hermosa?” Javi smiled, giving you a little shake in your chair making you giggle.

“No, you dork. I was actually thinking more hot pink or neon green.” You retorted, giving Javi a nudge back tiling your head up towards him. “No, I don’t know, I know we want something neutral through the house but like, it’ll be fun to pick cute paint colors when we have kids and stuff.”

Javi squeezed you a little tighter, his heart warming at the thought of when they’d get to do this again when there were actually kids in the picture to fill the empty rooms of their house. No matter how many times you and Javi talked about it, he was sure he’d never get over the fact that you wanted to have a family with him. It was a dream that had come and gone for him all those years ago, resigning himself to a life of simply surviving, even after he had returned home to Laredo. But now, the fact that dream was in reach, and undoubtedly in the near future had him beaming, knowing there was no one else in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life and build a family with beside you, and that for some reason he still couldn’t quite comprehend, you felt the same way.

While you had agreed that you would wait until you were married and your house was completely finished before you started trying and your birth control made its permanent home in the trash, with every day that he got closer to marrying you, finalizing your house and starting the newest chapter of your lives together, Javi couldn’t help but feel a want, no, a need, to start a family with you- to fulfill a purpose he so desperately craved to be a father.

“Well…” Javi grinned, leaning back down to kiss your neck, his pecks becoming much more tender and slow with each press of his lips, “you could let me put a baby in you right now, and we could pick out fun paint colors along with the borning brown ones. Got a lot of rooms we need to fill and paint, Osita.”

“Javier Peña! You are a menace! You have to stop with the baby talk, or I swear, you’re about to make me cave in and crumble. You are testing every ounce of willpower I have.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked up, entranced by Javi’s sweet brown eyes and their powerful effects.

While you and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever ever since you had gotten engaged, there was something about knowing you were about to have your own house with 4 extra rooms, solely built for the purpose of being filled with your kids that drove you, and even worse, Javi, absolutely crazy. In the past few weeks, the house had taken shape enough to finally have rooms that actually looked like rooms, Javi making it a point every time the two of you went over to check on progress, to point out just how good the spare bedrooms looked, like he was the most proud of those 4 extra rooms more than any other space in the house.

The irrational part of you would have given him a baby yesterday, but the rational part of you knew you wanted to be married and have every last inch of that house finished before you brought a baby there. But every time Javi saw those bedrooms, looking at you with that big, goofy grin on his face for his children that didn’t even exist yet, oh god, did it make you want to say fuck it to every ounce of rationality you had left.

“I think you have baby fever worse than I do, Jav. And that’s saying something.” You teased, reaching up to scrunch his cheeks. With another little giggle and content sigh, you pushed yourself up out of your chair, coming around the back of it to get the slightest running start to jump on him, full koala style, wrapping your arms and legs around his broad back, making the two of you burst out in laughter as he spun you around while you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, covering him with little kisses. “I love you so much. You’re gonna be such a good dad, you know that?”

“I love you too, Osita. I hope I am. I want to be.” Javi sighed, a hopeful half smile pursed between his lips, causing you to cup both your hands around his face, forcing him to look at you.

“You will be. I promise.” Tilting your head in, you pressed a soft, tender kiss onto his lips, lingering just a little longer than normal for your added reassurance. “Alright, I gotta get down now though, we have dishes we have to put away, and I have to shower tonight since I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning before school and I don’t wanna have to get up earlier than I need to.”

“Un beso más (One more kiss).” Javi smiled, gripping a little tighter on your thighs wrapped around his legs, refusing to let go until you fulfilled his request.

“Solamente un beso más? Por qué no dos? Tres? (Only one more? Why not 2? 3?)” You giggled, one of your hands running through the thick curls of his hair, while the other traced soft circles along his jawline.

“Me gustaría darte todos los besos, Osita. Te daría cualquier cosa. (I’d give you all the kisses, Osita. I’d give you anything.)” Leaning in, your mouths met again in a soft and sweet moment, a kiss that felt like he meant it- He would give you the world if you asked for it, and then some.

“God, I could kiss you forever. Alright, Romeo, put me down, we got things to do, and if you don’t, I know for a fact none of those things are getting done.”

“Fine.” He sighed overdramatically, letting your legs fall to the floor as he released his grasp. “I’ll clean up dinner and you can go take a shower.”

“I can help with cleaning up, Jav. You made dinner, the least I can do is-”

“Go get your ass in the shower. I’ll clean it up.” He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of your head before gesturing towards the bathroom, making you cross your arms over your chest with an unseriously stern look on your face.

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell? Rude. Sure you’re not the one who needs to shower after your foot got covered in piss?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying your best not to laugh.

“Go shower, you dork.” Javi chuckled, giving your ass a playful slap as you parted ways, sticking your tongue out at him as you disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom.

After a long, and even hotter shower than usual (considering you didn’t have to account for Javi’s temperature complaints), you wrapped yourself up in your towel and headed back to your room, where you found Javi laying in bed, reading one of the books you had been teasing him about for the past few weeks as it sat on his nightstand, unopened, even though he insisted he really was going to read it soon. As if the fact that him finally opening up and reading the book wasn’t enough to taunt him about, the way his face scrunched as he squinted at the pages certainly was.

“You doin’ alright over there, Grandpa? Jav, you just have to give in and get glasses, you know you can’t see anything, stop trying to fight it.” You giggled, your appearance in the bedroom catching Javi’s attention, making him rest his open book over his stomach.

“I don’t need glasses. I can see just fine. I’d look stupid in them, anyways.” He grumbled, refusing to admit that you were right even though he knew just as well as you that his eyesight was definitely not what it once was. He let out another sigh, dogearring the page of his book and setting it on his nightstand, his grumpy demeanor quickly shifting as you gave him that playful smirk you always did when you wanted to rub something in to prove your point. You let out another laugh as Javi rolled his eyes at you, shifting himself on the bed to lay on his side, face resting in his palm with those sweet puppy dog eyes that never left your sight any time he watched you get ready, even if all it meant was putting on one of his oversized shirts and sleep shorts to go to sleep in.

“Yeah, okay.” You replied, your voice oozing with sarcasm. “And you wouldn’t look stupid in glasses, you look hot in anything, and I’m sure you would look extra hot with 20/20 vision.”

“Pendejo…”

“You love me.”

The two of you laughed as you shuffled through the drawers of your dresser, pulling out one of Javi’s t shirts to wear to bed along with a pair of underwear and cotton shorts, piling the clothes next to you as you unwrapped your towel drying yourself off once more before letting it drop to the floor so you could change. You could see Javi’s reflection staring back at you, more specifically, your ass in the mirror, an awestruck and lustful look growing in his eyes as you reached over to pick up your shirt.

“I can literally feel your eyes burning a hole through my ass, Jav.” You sassed, smirking back at him through the mirror as you watched him bite down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love your ass so much, you know that?” Javi rasped, his tongue gently darting between his lips, eyes still locked on your behind.

“Yes, Javi, you are very adamant about letting me know how much you love it.” You snickered, slipping his shirt over your head, followed pair your pair of underwear, opting to completely forgo your shorts to play into his comment. You crawled up into bed next to him, nudging him over so his back laid on the mattress and you laid on top of him, pressing a soft, slow kiss against his lips as his hands roamed down your back, sneaking under the hem of your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your ass, letting out a low groan as your mouths met.

“Because it’s fucking perfect.” He hummed, gripping his fingertips even deeper into your skin after sliding them under the thin, cotton fabric covering it.

“Wow, someone’s in a mood about my butt tonight. Didn’t know your giant t-shirt and my plain ass underwear was really doin’ it for ya.” You joked, a little grin spread across your face as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair before sliding them down his face to cup his jaw. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the look on Javi’s face had quickly turned from one of lust to deep thought, his brow scrunched and nostrils flared, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately noticing the shift in his demeanor. “You only get that look when you’re really thinking hard about something, or you have to fart and you’re trying to hold it in, and I’m really hoping it’s not the second one.”

Your comment was enough to snap him out of his own thoughts, making him shake his head as the two of you laughed, Javi still holding back slightly as his eyes shifted down towards the mattress, practically hearing the gears in his brain turning, when all of a sudden, it clicked with you.

Oh shit.

The combination of his stare down and silence told you everything you needed to know.

You tilted his chin back up towards your face, a curious smirk stretched between your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You wanna fuck my ass, don’t you?”

Your voice was sweet and sultry, immediately making Javi’s face go blank in shock that you had connected the dots before he had even said anything. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest almost as loudly as Javi’s, a nervous swarm of butterflies filling your stomach as you waited for him to respond.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. There had been plenty of times that Javi had put a thumb or fingers in your ass when he fucked you from behind, and holy shit, did it feel good whenever he did it. You’d honestly debated bringing it up before, but there was a part of you that could never bring yourself to do it because you never had, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous about it.

It wasn’t that you didn't trust Javi- You’d trust him with your whole life without a second thought. There had never been a time since the moment you first had sex that your comfort wasn’t always his first priority. But with how full Javi felt inside you with just a thumb or a finger, couldn’t help but make you feel a little worried with how big he’d feel with his whole dick inside your ass.

You also couldn’t help but feel a preemptive guilt if it ended up being too much and you had to ask him to stop, not that he would ever make you feel bad about it, but still, you couldn’t help but play out worse case scenarios in your head. But something about that look in his face as he stared you down in the mirror and head turning deep in thought was enough to spark that little flame of confidence you had brewing and beat him to the punch.

“Hermosa…” He paused, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing as he gulped, taking an anxious deep breath. “Baby, I-”

“Do you?”

The tightened grip of his fingers in your ass, gentle nod of his head and the low groan releasing from his chest was all you needed to know to figure out the answer to your question without even needing Javi to say a single word. His free hand mirrored yours, cupping your cheek as the two of you locked hungry gazes with each other, Javi now finally working up enough confidence to respond.

“I want to so fucking bad.” Javi rasped, his dark brown eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need for reassurance. “But if you don’t want to, I don’t ever want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with. I promise, I won’t be upset about it at all.” The confident facade you had been fronting quickly began to crumble, your body flooding with a combination of nerves and excitement.

“I do, I just- I- I’ve never done it before.” You weren’t sure how your voice had gotten so small and meek- maybe it was the reality of what you were about to do setting in at a rapid pace. Something about the sweet, soft innocence of your voice already had Javi hard as a rock, using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure, considering how even just the thought of even getting to put his dick in your ass already had him on edge.

“That’s okay. Like I said, it’s only if you want to, baby. We can take it slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop, no questions asked.”

You could feel your head beginning to gently nod in agreement as Javi’s thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, a little smirk forming between your cheeks while your heart raced at a million miles per hour, almost feeling as worked up and nervous as the very first time the two of you had sex all that time ago.

“I want to.” You whispered, letting your lips meet his in a tender and ferocious passion, muted moans escaping from each of your parted mouths.

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to say yes just because I want to.” And fuck, could you feel how badly he wanted to, his fully hard dick straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, heavy against your thigh. You were no better despite your nerves, the cotton fabric of your underwear absolutely drenched already without Javi even touching you.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

A low groan rumbled deep in Javi’s chest as your mouths met again, Javi flipping you over so your back was flat against the mattress, letting his hands roam along your body while his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. Gonna take my time with you, okay? I promise I’ll make sure you’re ready.”

“Well I appreciate you just not going straight to shoving your dick into my ass, very gentlemanly of you.” You joked, trying to calm your nerves with your sarcastic wit, Javi practically snorting at your comment.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi whispered to himself through his laughter, resting his head on your chest as he looked up at you in amusement.

“Sorry, I’ll stop and let you get back to business.” Javi lay frozen, still staring up at you with his head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised.

“Osita, you know I love you very much, right?”

“Yes.”

“And that since we’ve been together, I’ve learned a lot of things about you?

“Also yes.”

“So you know I can tell when you’re nervous about something, right?”

You let out a defeated sigh, crossing your arms in stubborn defiance, not wanting to admit that you knew Javi’s suspicions were correct. You waited a moment, and with a little frown pursed between your lips, you finally gave in.

“...Yeah.”

Javi rolled over next to you, draping one arm over your waist, the other holding his chin in his hand with his elbow propped up against the mattress, his tender gaze locking with yours, filling you with a sense of calm and reassurance you were convinced nothing else in the world could. “Osita, talk to me baby. What are you nervous about?”

You flapped your arms up before planting them over your face, burying your head in your hands in embarrassment, your words muffled from underneath your palms. “What am I nervous about? Not to stroke your ego any more than it needs to be, but you have a huge dick, Jav. I’m also guessing this isn’t your first time, and it is for me, and you being the first giant dick to ever enter my ass has me a little nervous.” You rambled, your thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than your brain could process them. “I really want to, I just don’t want it to not be good for you or for you to be upset if we stop or- I don’t know. I don’t want you to be mad about it if I’m the reason for- I- I’m probably overthinking it, I’m sorry.” You let out another deep exhale, averting your gaze from Javi’s staring down at the bed.

This time, it was Javi’s turn to connect the dots, taking a moment to wonder why you were so worried about making him upset before putting the pieces together, his prediction making him clench his jaw in frustration. “Paul wanted to do it and you said no and he was a fucking asshole to you about it, wasn’t he?”

Your head instantly shot up, swiveling around towards Javi’s agitated grimace, your face almost as shocked as Javi’s was when you had asked him if he had wanted to do this in the first place. “How… Javi, how did you-”

“That motherfucker… he didn’t hurt you did he? I swear to God if he did, I’ll fucking fly up to Chicago right now and I’ll-”

“Jav, Jav, cool your jets, killer.” You laughed softly, pressing your hand to his cheek to try and ground him before he really was on the next flight to Illinois. “No, he never did anything. He said that he wanted to and it kinda came out of the blue- I didn’t really want to at the time, especially not with him. He kept asking and asking and I would tell him no and he got so mad about it. Turns out that was around the time he started cheating on me anyways, and became an even bigger dickhead than he already was. But I always felt so guilty, and that it was my fault he was upset because I didn’t want to. I don’t know- I- I guess maybe this has stuck with me way more than it probably should have.” You could feel your voice shrinking, your eyes darting away once again, mortified by the fact that you completely ruined the moment by bringing up your shitty ex and his blatant lack of respect. “Sorry, I don’t know why we’re talking about this I-“

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Javi’s lips were on yours, swallowing the rest of your words as your mouths met with a passionate intensity, letting his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer, caging his chest against yours. “Hermosa, you know I would never be mad at you about something like that, right? I love you, Osita, you have nothing to apologize for. All I ever want is to make you feel good, baby. Fuck, that gets me off more than anything else. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“I trust you, Javi.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, lips grazing over his, giving him a gentle nod of reassurance. “I want you to.”

You could audibly hear the gulp Javi had let out, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he let out a low groan, tightening the grip he had around your waist. “Want me to what, sweet girl? I wanna hear you say it, baby.” His lips began to travel down your jawline towards your neck, hot and wet presses languidly making their way to your collarbone as he tugged at the end of your shirt, snaking his hands up the soft skin of your stomach. You could feel the heat building in your core, letting out a soft moan as his hands palmed at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between the tips of his fingers.

“I want you to fuck my ass, Javi.”

With that, his hands were shuffling your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed before letting his kisses make their way down your newly exposed skin, letting his tongue flick along each nipple before letting his gaze lock with yours, a small smirk spreading across his face. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Hermosa. Gonna take good care of you, baby, I swear.”

“I know.” You nodded, staring back at the hunger pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, practically squirming in the sheets of your bed from the throbbing between your legs, feeling the slick almost dripping down your thighs from just how turned on you were. The grin on Javi’s face had become devilish, biting down on his bottom lip as he snaked his hand down your front, tugging at the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs before running a finger through your slit, already drenching him with your arousal.

“Turn around, baby. Hands and knees, okay?” You could hear the subtle smugness in his tone, giving you a playful squeeze as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over face down on the mattress, making you squeal. You did Javi one better, laying your chest flat against the sheets, lifting your ass up in the air and giving it a little shake, Javi’s hands instantly kneading at the soft flesh in front of him, digging his fingertips deeper into your skin, feeling his hot breath hovering over your cunt.

Suddenly, you felt a long, wide strip of his tongue through your folds, pressing hard and intensely along your clit before diving in like a man starved, lapping you up as he began to eat you out from behind. Each stroke of his tongue was more persistent than the last, the grip of his hands on your hips pulling your heat closer to his face as he licked and sucked at your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of your slick and his saliva coating your inner thighs. His feverish pace already had you fisting at the bedsheets, whimpering and moaning as his mouth worked along your dripping core, making you gasp even further when you felt his tongue begin to travel up towards your tight ring of muscle.

“Oh holy fuck- Javi, oh my god, baby. Fuck me, oh shit.” You whimpered as Javi’s tongue swirled along your puckered hole, dancing around the edges before dipping inside, the sensation making you shudder in pleasure, feeling Javi’s low hum of approval deep in the back of his throat. If that wasn’t enough, one of the hands that had a tight grip on your ass was now collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, his fingers tracing through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit, the added stimulation immediately making the tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. As he worked at your hole, the pads of his fingers circling your sensitive bundle of nerves you could feel your breath becoming ragged, letting out a few more shaky exhales before your orgasm crashed through you, crying out into the soft fabric of the sheets, pleasure and euphoria flooding your body.

As you came down from your high, Javi let his hands slide gently up and down your sides, pressing soft kisses along your back until he had made his way up your shoulder blades and neck, whispering tenderly into your ear. “Such a good girl for me, Osita. Came so hard letting me eat out that pretty little ass of yours. You want me to keep going?”

“Fuck yes, oh my god Javi, please.” You whimpered, shaking your head frantically as you looked back at Javi, already sitting back on his knees to lift his shirt over his head before sitting up to kick off his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free, precum glistening and weeping from his tip, considering how painfully hard he had been since even the thought of getting to fuck your ass.

You could feel his body hovering over yours, hands sliding up and down your sides before grabbing at your ass again, placing tender kisses on each cheek before leaning over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, pulling out the bottle of lube and setting it next to him. His hands roamed to your core once again, two fingers dipping into your cunt, curling to hit the soft, spongy spot inside you that already had you moaning again.

It wasn’t long until his fingers were substituted for his cock, running his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal along his length before slowly pushing inside your pussy, already so wet and worked up, that even with sweet sting of his stretch, he still slid in with ease, setting a steady, even pace as one hand dug into your hip, the other reaching over to grab the bottle of lube, popping open the cap with a click and letting the cool liquid drip over your tight hole, making you gasp. You could feel the pads of his fingers pressing at the entrance to your ass, gently teasing you open with one finger, breeching up to his knuckle, the combination of both his finger and cock inside you making you whimper in pleasure.

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck, you’re already so fucking tight around my finger. You want another one in there, baby?” Javi mewled, prodding his finger deeper into your hole as he continued to thrust into you, his strokes slow and steady, but still punching deep into your g-spot with each thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs.

“Yes- oh fuck- yes, oh my god.” You weren’t really quite sure how your brain was still even managing to form words at this point, the warm feeling that had been growing inside you spreading to every inch of your body. The pad of Javi’s second finger teased at your tight hole, collecting ample amounts of you slick and lube before pushing in to join the first, the thickness of both of his fingers making you clench even tighter around his cock and digits as you cried out in delight.

“Shhhhhh, I know, sweet girl. Relájate (relax) baby, I’ve got you.”

You could already feel your second orgasm starting to build again, heat beginning to bloom in your belly from the rhythmic pounding of Javi’s dick punching against your g-spot and his fingers prodding at the nerve endings of your ring of muscle, already feeling so full from the stretch of both holes.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh fuck- Javi, I’m gonna cum again, fuckahhhhhhh-” You cried out, letting your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, clenching down around Javi’s cock and fingers as you grabbed at handfuls of your bedsheets, trying to ground yourself as the intensity of your pleasure ripped through you.

“There you go, Hermosa. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Did so good for me.” He cooed, gently pulling out both his cock and fingers, the emptiness making you shutter as Javi pressed tender, soft kisses down your back before making his way up your neck and nipping at your ear. “You think you’re ready for me, Osita? If not, it’s okay, I only wanna do what you want, mi amor (my love).”

You took another few ragged breaths to compose yourself, unsure how your brain was even managing to function at this point as you came down from your high, trembling in delight. You nodded before you could speak, Javi letting out a low groan as he sucked at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy against your skin.

“Need to hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

“Fuck my ass, Javi. I want you to fuck my ass, please baby.” You whined, whimpering your words against the soft fabric of your sheets, desperate for more, needing to feel all of him inside you in a way you hadn’t before.

Javi let out an audible groan as he pulled back, letting his hands roam up your body and back to the lube resting on the bed, once again, popping open the cap and squirting some of the liquid into his palm as he fisted his dick, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your tight hole. “You promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop?”

You shook your head rapidly, fingers already gripping into the pillow in front of you as you braced yourself for Javi to enter, feeling his tip press against your tight ring of muscle. Suddenly, you could feel the sensation of Javi breeching your entrance, making you gasp at just how full you already felt as he had barely made his way inside you. Javi pushed further in, leaving you practically breathless from the stinging stretch of his cock filling you as he paused halfway, leaning over to check on you.

“Oh fuck me- You okay, sweet girl?”

“Mhhmmmmmm. Fuck Javi, you feel so big. Holy shit, baby. Oh fuck.” You gulped, squeezing around Javi’s length as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you, your clit and cunt throbbing as he filled you, the newfound sensation making you see stars. You were so focused on how you were feeling, you had barely noticed how tightly Javis fingertips were gripping into the soft flesh of your ass, like he was bracing himself for dear life as he sunk further and further into your tight hole.

While Javi had found himself in this position with other women a handful of times before, he had never come close to feeling the same way about anyone the way he did about you- He had been dreaming about the day that you agreed to let him fuck your ass, and now finding himself inside you, knowing he would be the first and the last to ever have you like he was right now, had him on the brink of busting any second if he wasn’t careful. Javi had never been more thankful that you couldn’t see his face, because he knew he looked absolutely wrecked and was struggling to keep the ounce of composure he had left as you gripped around his cock like a vice.

“Javi, oh shit- Javi, you can move baby.” You moaned, adjusting to his fullness, the initial pain quickly transforming to burning hot pleasure as you gave Javi the green light to keep going. After a few seconds, when Javi had said nothing and hadn’t moved at all, you spoke again, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you. “Javi, I’m good, you can-”

“I know, I know, fuck- sorry, baby. Jesus Christ- you’re so fucking tight, Hermosa, fuck me. Give me a second or I’m gonna fuckin’ bust right now.” Javi replied, halfway between a whimper and a moan as he firmly grasped your hips, carefully setting a slow pace as he began to thrust in and out of your ring of muscle, shocked to feel how quickly heat was beginning to bloom in your belly once again, his length languidly sliding in and out of your asshole, filling you and striking new nerve endings you had never felt before making you quickly begin to come undone.

Your legs began to tremble, grasping at the mattress to brace yourself as you felt your clit throb and cunt clench as the coil in your belly tightened further and further, the lewd noises of your moans and grunts filling the room.

“Javi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, baby I’m so close again, holy fuck.” You cried out, as even just the slightest pick up of Javi’s pace had you reeling closer and closer to the edge of your release. Javi freed one of his hands, snaking it between your legs to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, already swollen and pulsing from your first two orgasms, and now even more responsive as the pads of his fingers circled against it.

Javi wanted desperately to hold out for you and make you cum as many times as you wanted to just like this, but he knew damn well the moment you came and clamped down even harder around his cock than you already were, he was a fucking goner and going right along with you. He needed to give you one more before he also came embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck Osita, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer either, baby. Need you- oh shit- need you to give me one more, pretty girl. Cum for me, Hermosa, I’ve got you.”

With only a few more strokes and circles around your clit, you were cumming so hard, you were honestly convinced you had blacked out. Your whole body shook as you wailed in delight, squeezing around Javi’s dick so hard it was only seconds before he was following suit, letting a ragged groan escape through his gritted teeth as you milked him of every last drop, Javi bracing himself for dear life with the grasp he had around your hips as he finished.

Javi slumped over you, the two of you breathing so heavily it sounded more like you had just finished a triathlon more than anything else. He let out a deep hiss as he pulled out, taking a moment to admire his work as he watched his spend drip out your tight hole as your body collapsed onto the mattress.

You weren’t sure how long you had been laying there before you were finally able to wrangle the brain power to speak again, and even then, the only words that you were able to manage were a quiet “holy fucking shit…”

Javi flopped down, laying on his back next to you as you rolled over, both of your faces bright and blissed as you stared at one another, almost unsure of what to say.

“Are you okay?” Javi asked, gently cupping your flushed cheek in his palm.

“Am I okay? Javi… Holy fuck. I don’t think I have ever cum so hard in my entire life. I honestly thought I blacked out there for a second. Baby… That was, fuck, that was insane.” You half laughed to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking great. Holy shit. Sorry I couldn’t last longer, I didn’t think I was gonna go that fast but you felt so fucking good. Thank you, Osita.”

“Thank you? For what?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful poke on the chest as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“For this. For trusting me.”

“Javier Jesús Peña…” You smirked, propping yourself up on your arm to get a better look at him, “I trust you with my life. More than anyone I’ve ever met. I should be the one thanking you for so graciously taking my butt virginity. Wouldn’t want anyone else in there besides you.”

The two of you burst into laughter, Javi practically letting out a snort as he rolled his eyes at your ridiculous comment. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous. I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Javi. C’mon, let's go shower before your cum sits in my asshole any longer and I get pregnant with your butt baby.” You snickered as you rolled off the bed, making your way to the bathroom.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Butt baby? Seriously?” He snorted, following behind you, giving you a playful smack on your ass, scooping you up to hike you over his shoulder and fireman carry you to the shower, making you squeal. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Weirdo you love enough to put your dick in my ass and make your wife, so that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled as Javi set you down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, giving him a little shrug before reaching into the shower to turn on the water.

“And what a fucking lucky man I am.”

Ever since starting his job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department, Javi had been able to count on a few things every morning when he got into work. Sheryl at the front desk would greet him with a half hearted “Good morning, Javier” , the smell of shitty work coffee would be brewing in the break room, and Agent Carter and Miller already arguing about something stupid at their desks instead of working on anything that actually needed to get done. That’s why when Javi made his way into work on Monday morning and was not greeted by any of those things, he knew his day was getting thrown for a loop- he just wasn’t quite sure how yet.

“It was their idea, not mine, believe me.” Sheryl grumbled, rolling her eyes as she nodded towards the path to Javi’s office, holding her hands up in defense as if to prove she had nothing to do with whatever was going on beyond her desk. Javi paused, tilting his head and scrunching his brow in confusion at Sheryl before letting out a sigh, and hesitantly making his way back to find out what in the world she was talking about.

He was surprised by the lack of Miller and Carter’s presence in their desk chairs, and the unusual silence filling the office as Javi turned his head, wondering where everyone was. He peered over the cubicles, looking for any sign of life, until a strange sound caught his attention from behind the door of his office.

Woof, woof, woof!

Javi shook his head, convinced he must be hearing things until the low bark repeated, followed by a hush of anxious voices whispering around the corner.

“Oh no, shhhhhh! Shit, I didn’t think he was gonna bark.”

“Well it’s a fucking dog, Carter, what the hell did you think it was gonna, do, meow?”

“Maybe he didn’t hear it.”

“I highly doubt that, dumbass. God, he’s gonna be fucking pissed.”

“Your idea, not mine.”

Even though he couldn’t see them, Miller and Carter’s worried whispers were enough to let Javi know he wasn’t imagining the barking coming from behind his office door. Letting out a deep sigh, which sounded a lot more like a groan, Javi carefully twisted open the doorknob to his workspace, only to be greeted by a large, shaggy and very dirty Golden Retriever staring back at him with big brown eyes, happily wagging its tail and shaking excitedly at Javi’s presence. Although Javi had heard the bark from behind his door, it didn’t stop him from doing a double take from the dog now residing in his office, running his hand over his face in a confused frustration as to how and why Miller and Carter had already managed to make his Monday morning a pain in his ass.

“Why the fuck is there a dog in my office?” Javi half shouted, making Carter and Miller sheepishly appear from around the corner with guilty looks on their faces, avoiding eye contact with Javi as he glared through the two of them, wondering how the hell they were going to try and talk themselves out of this one.

“Hey Peña, uh, I uh… Listen Miller was the one who brought him in, and he was so cute that I wasn’t not gonna do anything about it and-”

“Oh, way to throw me under the fucking bus, Carter!” Agent Miller huffed, cutting Carter off in attempts to let the blame completely fall on him. “You agreed we should keep him here so that we could-”

“Okay, that still doesn’t explain why the fuck there’s a dog in my office.” Javi groaned, cutting off Carter and Miller before they found themselves in a pointless arguing match about how and why there was now a dog happily leaning itself against Javi’s leg, his tail shaking back and forth, completely enamored by Javi.

It was taking everything in Javi not to reach down and pet him to try and prove a point to Carter and Miller that they had astronomically fucked up the rest of his plans for the morning, but the dog was sure as hell adorable and sweet as could be.

“Okay, well, I was driving into work this morning, and as I was making my way down that back road past the cattle ranch a few blocks down from here, this guy ran out in the road. Thank God I saw him when I did. I stopped, got out, and he came right up to me, but there was obviously no one with him. He looked relieved that he’d found me. Poor guy is dirty and skinny as hell. He hopped right into my car and ate the rest of my McGriddle which I was kinda pissed about, but I can’t blame ‘em.” Miller sighed, now crouching down to give the dog some scratches on the head before continuing on with his story. “So I went to some of the houses on the street and no one had ever seen this dog before. I called Webb County Animal Control to see if anyone had reported a missing dog that looked like him, but no one had. I asked if I should take him to the shelter to see if anyone would come for him, but the lady on the phone said if no one’s reported him missing, they probably wouldn’t come for them.”

“Well tell him what else, Miller.” Carter encouraged, trying to aid in Miller’s defense as he rose back up, standing next to his partner.

“When I called the animal shelter to ask them what to do, the woman I talked to said the shelter is so full, that if we brought him in and no one claimed him within the next two weeks, that they’d…” Miller trailed off, him and Carter both grimacing, unable to finish the rest of his sentence as he looked down at the gleeful, furry face staring back up at him. “Well, let’s just say that things weren’t gonna look so good for him. I couldn’t bring myself to drop him off, and I wasn’t just gonna fucking leave him, so, I uh- I brought him here.”

Javi let out a deep sigh, burying his hands in his face for a moment before rubbing his temples, understanding why Miller had done what he did, but nonetheless, still frustrated that now he had become wrapped up in solving a missing dog case.

“So what? Are you gonna keep him?” Javi questioned, finally giving in to bend down and give the dog a few pats on his side, feeling just how skinny and boney he was as his hand met his belly.

“Oh no, I can’t keep him. Apartment doesn’t allow dogs. I would if I could.” Miller admitted, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, feeling guilty for his lack of helpful response.

“What about you? You keeping the dog?” Javi asked, looking over at Carter, giving him a little shrug, hoping he was the solution to his temporary canine problem.

“Um, no. Sorry. I’m allergic. He’s cute as hell but my eyes have been itching ever since he got here.”

“So what, he’s just gonna live here? C’mon you guys, really?” Javi grumbled, now crouching down next to the dog, getting a better look at his begging eyes and goofy grin under his panting tongue, giving Javi a few licks on the face in excitement as his tail began to wag rapidly from Javi’s closeness.

Javi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as the dog lapped against his face, wrapping his hands around the dog’s head and giving it a playful rub to get the dog to stop before staring back at the sweet, sad eyes staring back at him. He scratched under the dog’s chin before it was snuggling up next to him, comfortably plopping himself down over Javi’s feet and letting out a content little grumble as his tail continued to thump against the floor in joy.

Javi closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. A deep sigh. Not because he didn’t like this dog. Hell, not even because he was really that mad at the two office idiots for bringing the dog here this morning. Javi let out a long, exasperated sigh, because he could feel the willpower he had preached to you about holding out on a dog until the new house- a conversation he had just had with you last night- was absolutely crumbling.

He couldn’t come home with a dog, right? He had just spent all of last night convincing you that the apartment wouldn’t be a good place for a dog. But… that was for a puppy. This was a full grown dog. A calm one, at that. A fucking cute one at that. God, it had been 5 minutes and this dog was already attached at the hip to him, and it was probably fair to say that Javi had gotten just as attached, if not more. Carter and Miller were right, with the shape the dog was in, it really did look like no one had been taking care of him, or had any plans to come and find him, and Javi couldn’t bear the thought of sending the dog off to the shelter, knowing his inevitable fate.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, do you know anything else about him? Are you sure that there’s no one looking for him?” Javi grunted as he pushed himself back up to stand, trying to keep his cool as he looked over at Carter and Miller, their eyes still peeled to the ground in hopes the lack of direct eye contact would lessen their chances of a complete reaming from Javi.

“No, boss. Only other thing we could find about him was the little tag on his collar, which wasn’t helpful at all, because it only had his name.” Carter shrugged, peeking up at Javi, surprised by the even keel of his tone. Javi bent back down, the dog immediately rolling over on his back and exposing his belly for Javi to pet as he reached towards the dog’s neck, gently tugging at the tethered collar under his tangled fur to read the poorly engraved tag attached, letting out an even bigger sigh and shaking his head in disbelief at the name.

Bear.

Of fucking course. As if the universe needed to send him another sign. Of fucking course the dog’s name was the same as his nickname for you, Osita- little bear.

Javi couldn’t help but laugh to himself, running his hand over his face once again. “Shit. You sure no one’s looking for him?”

Both Carter and Miller shook their heads, crossing their arms over their chests in sad disappointment at Bear, laying sprawled across Javi’s feet. Letting out one last reluctant exhale, Javi looked back at the pair, nervously awaiting his response before he spoke.

“If… If no one calls looking for him by the end of the day… I’ll take him home with me.”

Carter and Miller’s faces lit up in shock and delight, staring at Javi, dumbfounded by what they had just heard. “I mean… Fuck, well… that was way easier than I thought it was gonna be.” Miller half grumbled to himself, glancing over at Carter, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I obviously don’t have any dog shit at home so I’m gonna have to leave early today to get some, so you two idiots are gonna have to finish up the rest of the paperwork I needed to do this afternoon, we clear?”

“Yeah, yup- Absolutely. Will do.” The two nodded in agreement, still in shock that the worst they had gotten from their boss from dropping a stray dog off in his office was the rest of his paperwork for the day.

“Fuck me. Alright, c’mon Bear.” Javi sighed, pushing open his office door, Bear, happily trotting along behind him, tail wagging in delight as Carter and Miller stared back at each other, frozen in shock that they, with very little convincing, had gotten their boss to happily take their furry problem into his own hands.

If the fact that Bear wasn’t cute as can be was enough to win over Javi, he was also the sweetest, most relaxed dog he’d had ever met. Bear was perfectly content to lay down next to Javi’s desk, letting out content grumbles and sighs as he slept and Javi worked, sprawled out across the floor. Bear also seemed to love everyone he met, joyfully making his rounds around the station with Javi after a failed attempt at leaving him behind in his office, immediately caving to Bear’s sad, lonely whines and big brown eyes from behind the glass of his office window. Around 2:00 PM, after Javi had given Bear the better half of his turkey sandwich for lunch, he found himself just as hungry as that poor dog probably was this morning, deciding to cut his day short to get himself some food, and gather whatever else he needed before bringing Bear back to the apartment.

Javi thanked whatever higher power that the woman working at the pet store this afternoon was not the same woman he had adamantly convinced last night that he was not coming with a dog, because in the back seat of his truck, sat a dog he was now bringing home. The woman working at the store had helped Javi to find everything he needed for Bear and probably then some, Javi more than thankful for her patience and advice, feeling overwhelmed by what to get for a dog that had landed in his care only a few short hours ago.

After 2 trips up your apartment stairs to drop off the bed, food, treats and toys Javi had gotten, he made one final trip back for Bear, who had glady hopped out of the truck and followed Javi back to your place after a quick pee on the bush in the parking lot, leaving Javi very thankful the dog had found a spot to relieve himself that wasn’t on his shoe.

“Well, welcome home, I guess.” Javi chuckled as Bear busted through the apartment door, tail wagging at a propeller like speed as he meandered through the space, sniffing and exploring around the kitchen and living room, before wandering back to the bags from the pet store Javi had set on the ground, giving them a little prod with his snout before sitting next to them, looking up at Javi as if to ask if he could have the food and treats that were inside. “Well… I guess a little more food couldn’t hurt, right?”

There were very few times where Javi was home from work before you, and when he did, he normally told you before he left, or called you at work to let you know- so when you pulled into the parking lot to see Javi’s truck next to your empty parking space, it was safe to say you were a bit perplexed. You quickly unpacked your bags from your car, making your way up to the apartment, trying to rationalize with your confusion and nerves as to why Javi had beaten you home. As you unlocked your door, you gently pushed it open, now even more confused by the muffled grunts and swearing coming from down the hallway. Dropping your things at the entryway, you quickly began working your way through the apartment to figure out what was going on before you almost tripped and fell over a large dog bed now in the middle of your living room.

“What the hell…” You murmured to yourself, your brow scrunching in bewilderment as you caught your step over the soft, plushy surface, doing a double take to realize that what had almost taken you to the ground was a dog bed. Looking over, you then noticed the several bags from the local pet store, now even more puzzled as your attention shifted back to the end of the hallway, hearing Javi’s voice as well as the sound of running water and frantic splashing.

“Goddamnit, will you just stay still please? We’re almost done, bud.”

Almost sprinting to the bathroom, you pushed open the door to find a pile of towels spread across the floor, Javi kneeling over the side of the tub, shirt absolutely soaked as he held the shower handle towards a goofy, wet, golden retriever dancing around in the other end of the tub as he saw you.

“Uhhhhhh, Javi… Why is there a dog in our bathtub?” You stood stunned in the doorway, your presence startling Javi as he spun around, dropping the shower handle, making it spray over the walls, leading the dog to playfully bark and shake as it hopped over the ledge of the tub to greet you.

“No, Bear! Come back here! Fuck. I uh- I can explain, I-” Javi stammered, scrambling to grab the flailing shower head before reaching for the dog to try and wrangle him back into the shower, the rest of his thought cut off by Bear taking one more step towards you before bracing himself for a giant shake, absolutely drenching you as you burst into laughter, wiping your now soaking face with the palms of your hands before reaching down to pet the cheerful dog, wagging his wet tail as he leaned up against your leg.

You couldn’t help but let the smuggest grin spread across your face, now putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Bear, huh? You come up with that one?” You giggled, crouching down to greet who you now were presuming to be the newest resident of your household, rubbing his hands over his drenched, furry body, squealing as he licked all over your face. “I thought we couldn’t have a dog in the apartment, Jav, and I hate to break it to you, this is definitely a dog… very much in our apartment.”

Javi let out a snort, rolling his eyes at you as he reached over to shut off the water, resting his back against the edge of the tub, propping his arms up over the sides as he braced himself to try and explain his current situation to you. “Well…” he grinned sheepishly as Bear paced back and forth between the two of you, his tail swaying side to side as he dripped puddles across the bathroom floor, “I got into work this morning and the first thing I saw was a fucking dog that Carter and Miller had dropped in my office after Miller found him on his drive in.”

“Which I am assuming is this dog?” You laughed, gesturing towards the giddy Golden Retriever jaunting around the bathroom.

“Yeah, this one. Miller said that he found him on a dirt road. Called animal control and no one had been looking for a dog that looked like him, and that when he called the shelter, they were so full, that if someone didn’t either come to get him or adopt him in the next couple weeks, that, well… they probably would have to… Fuck, Cater is allergic and Miller can’t have dogs at his place, and I- he’s so sweet, and I couldn’t just let him go so-”

“So you bought out the better part of the pet store so he could live here with us?” You grinned, raising an eyebrow at Javi as Bear happily sat himself down in his lap, making Javi grunt at the weight of the dog plopping himself down across his legs.

“I mean… I uh… I-” Javi mumbled, sheepishly looking down at Bear before looking back at you, doing your best to contain your laughter and giggles. “What, Hermosa?” Javi phrased it as a question, even though he already knew the answer- You were never going to let him live this down for the rest of his life.

“And you thought you needed to be worried about me bringing a dog home without asking. Does this mean we have a new member of the Peña family?” You smirked, making your way over to Javi and Bear, squatting down on the soaking bathroom floor next to them, pressing a playful peck onto Javi’s cheek as you gave Bear a big scratch.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“You’re lucky he’s cute, and you’re lucky you’re cute, too. Yes, of course it’s okay with me. Welcome to the family, Bear Peña.”

The two of you smiled at each other as you sat on the bathroom floor, a damp and soggy Bear spread across your laps with the happiest and goofiest grin spread over his face, too. While coming home to find Javi wrestling a stray dog in your tub wasn’t exactly how you pictured welcoming the newest member of your family into your lives, in some strange way, it couldn’t have felt more perfect. Getting to grow and share your life together with Javi was all you could ever really ask for, even if that meant a Monday night, soaking wet from a dog bath gone wrong.

“Okay, well, we should probably dry this goofball off and get his stuff all situated. Poor guy is probably exhausted after all of his adventures today, aren’t ya bud? Do you think we should put the dog bed in our room? I don’t want him to get scared during the night, but I’m not really sure if we should have him up on our bed, ya know?”

As you pushed yourself up to stand, you waited for Javi’s response, only to be greeted by double the amount of big, brown puppy dog eyes now staring back at you as you turned around. Javi still said nothing, a guilty look growing across his and the dog’s, as you let out a deep sigh, wondering how in the world you were going to build up your immunity to another sweet face that made you crumble.

“You already let him on the bed, didn’t you, Jav?”

“.... Maybe.”

“Like I said, the two of you are very lucky you’re cute.”

Taglist:

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likeumeanit9497 · 10 days

Text

yale pt. 2 | c.s |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

read part one here!

summary: to commit or not to commit; what will chris and y/n decide? and how will they prove to one another that their mutual decision was the right one?

warnings: smut, oral (m/f receiving), hand stuff (m/f), p in v, unprotected sex (BAD), more fluff than i usually write, 18+

notes: again i'm sorry ab the wait but part two is finally finished! it's a bit longer than my past one shots (almost 6000 words eek) because there's a lottttt of fluff before the smut. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Two out of my three final exams were finished, and I was about ready to throw in the towel on my last one of the week. It was Thursday, and tomorrow was my Biology II final, which had been the one that had been stressing me out the most. As soon as I had got back to my small one-bedroom apartment that day, I had buried my nose in my textbooks in an attempt at cramming some last-minute miracle study session into my day.

That was around 3:00, and as I walked into my kitchen to make myself my fourth cup of coffee for the day, the clock on my stove read 9:26. I wanted to cry from exhaustion. Yale finals were no joke, and I had to do well on all of my exams in order to keep my scholarship for next year. On top of the stress caused by all of that, I was having an even more difficult time because my brain had been consumed by something else. Every moment of every day — whether I was trying to get some rest at night or trying to focus on answering the questions correctly on an exam — I was thinking about the last time I had seen Chris.

It had been less than a week, but my mind had replayed every moment of our time together so many times that it had begun feeling like a dream. That, in addition to the lack of proper rest I had been getting, had made me genuinely begin to question whether or not I had imagined everything that he had said before I ran out on him.

I hadn’t heard anything from Chris since then, which really wasn’t that uncommon. We typically only texted when I was back in Boston and we could meet up, and he knew that I would be busy with my finals this week and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. But regardless of how usual the lack of communication was, I couldn’t help but feel like there was a mutual tension between us even from miles away; and the shortage of interactions between us just felt like confirmation of that.

Since the last time we spoke, I had felt nearly every emotion possible regarding the situation. Guilty, happy, sad, angry, hurt, disappointed, excited, and confused. Very, very confused. There had been so many times where, as I was studying, or showering, or walking to class, I became completely consumed by the urge to text him; sometimes with the intention of telling him that I feel the same way about him as he does about me, other times my intentions were to cuss him out for making the one thing that was easy in my life so complicated. But every time I opened my phone and began typing out a message to him, I got ahold of myself and would hurriedly delete the paragraph.

Frustrated and lost in my own mind once again, I leaned onto the kitchen counter and rested my forehead against my crossed arms. The last thing that I wanted to do was go back to my desk and continue studying, but I knew that I needed to spend at least a few more hours on it if I wanted to secure at least a 90%. But my eyes were beginning to grow heavy, and the cool sensation that came from leaning on my counter was helping me calm down. Maybe I could stay here and collect my thoughts for just a few more minutes…

Four loud knocks at my front door caused my eyes to shoot open. I felt disoriented as I took a moment to take in my surroundings, glancing quickly at the clock I realized that I must have somehow dozed off in my position at the counter. Three more knocks rumbled through my small apartment, these ones more urgent than the last. As my brain finally woke up completely, I was hit with a mini wave of rage. Brad was in the same Biology II class as I was. He must be trying to study for the exam super last minute, and when he realized that he hadn’t even started taking study notes, he decided to show up unannounced at my place to get his hands on mine. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.

I stormed toward my front door, beside myself in fury and stress. As I unlocked the door and began turning the handle, I opened my mouth to begin my crazed rant.

“Brad I swear to God I’m not-” My mouth clamped shut and I froze once the door was completely open and the identity of the person on the other side was shown.

“Hi.” Was all he said, his voice tentative and wavering slightly. His bright blue eyes were filled with uncertainty, his slouched shoulders were covered in a light dusting of snow, and held by his hands in the space between us was a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Chris.” His name fell breathlessly from my lips, and I immediately walked toward him and embraced him in a relieving hug. I felt both of our bodies relax as soon as they connected, and we stood in my doorway for what could have been hours; both of us taking a moment to relish in the comfort that came from us finally seeing one another. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked, pulling back from him and taking a good look at his beautiful face. He shifted on his feet before responding, “I just needed to see you.”

His body language showed that he was feeling incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to do everything I could to reassure him, but not yet; it was too soon. So instead, I guided him into my apartment and closed the door behind us.

“So,” I began as he stood awkwardly in my kitchen, “Have you just decided to start carrying those around as some sort of fashion statement or what?” I gestured towards the flowers still gripped firmly in his hand. He blinked quickly before looking down at them as if he had forgotten they were there, and nervously giggled. “No. Uh, I brought these for you?” His voice rose at the end of his sentence, making it sound like a question and I let out a small laugh before gently removing them from his grasp. “I was joking, thank you for these. Sunflowers are my favourite.” I replied before turning my back to him to search through my kitchen cabinets for a vase. “I know they are.” He said in a quiet voice, and I turned back to look at him quickly.

“How’d you know that?” I kept my tone light, partially because I felt like it might make him more comfortable and partially to keep my nerves at bay. “Your lock screen on your phone. It’s of you and your friends in a sunflower field. I asked you about the picture that first time we met when you went to put my number in your phone and you told me that they were your all-time favourite flower, even though you thought they were a bit cliche.” He explained all of this to me while looking down at his feet, and I felt a ripple of shock travel down my spine. How did he remember that seemingly mundane part of our very first interaction, eight months ago?

I cleared my throat as I felt my emotions begin to get the best of me, and finally found a vase hidden deep in one of my cabinets. “Well I do love them,” I finally responded once I regained control over myself, “And look at how beautiful they are! The brighten up my entire kitchen.” I showed him the bouquet, now tucked into their vase, and felt my heart flutter at their vibrancy. “Thank you so much, Chris. I mean it.” I walked over to where he was standing beside my kitchen island, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I playfully brushed my nose against his a few times, before planting a light kiss on his lips. “You have a very good memory.” I added, before moving my lips to his jaw, down to his neck; leaving wet thank-you kisses along the way. His breath hitched once I reached his collarbone, where I spent extra time suckling his delicate skin.

I brought a hand down to his jeans, where I palmed at his semi-hard member. His hands stayed still at his sides, but I could feel his increasing pulse against my lips as I moved them painfully slow back up to his. When my lips made it back to his, I pressed my body against him in an attempt at deepening our movements. His hands finally moved to grab onto my waist, giving me a moment of satisfaction, before he used his new grip to pull me away slightly. “Y/n, wait,” He started, his gaze fixed on me, “I’ve really been needing to talk about last weekend.” My stomach sunk as I began to feel the too-familiar pit of anxiety that had been haunting me for days grow once more. Not wanting him to pick up on how terrified I was to have this conversation, I planted a faux smile on my face and gave him a quick nod. “Me too. Let’s sit.” I replied before walking over to my couch.

“So…” I began once we were both seated on the couch facing each other. Even though I had spent days mulling over every detail of what I might possibly say to Chris once this inevitable conversation happened, I really had no idea how to go about this. And by the unusual silence and bouncing leg coming from Chris’s side of the couch, it was pretty evident that he didn’t know how to either.

“I thought we had agreed that this conversation wouldn’t happen until after I had written all of my finals.” I finally got the courage to speak first, before immediately noticing that my tone came across pretty passive aggressive. “I just mean — sorry, Chris. I’ve just been really stressed out.” I attempted to correct my first sentence once I noticed that his face was riddled with anxiety. Placing a soft hand on his forearm, I continued, “I just mean I’ve been really needing to talk to you, too.” A nervous smile flashed across his face at my words, and I watched as he took a deep breath. “You have?” His tone sounded unsure, and I nodded firmly. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else.” I added, slightly embarrassed by my own admission. “Neither have I.” He added, turning his body slightly so he can face me better.

“I know I told you that I would wait until after you were finished your exams, and I really tried. But I’ve been going crazy these past few days and I really couldn’t wait anymore. I’m sorry.” He confessed, and I scooted closer to his place on the couch. “Don’t be. Trust me, I’ve felt so crazy these past few days too. I’ve gone through every possible emotion whenever I thought about the whole situation, it’s like I can’t get control over my mind. It’s been hell.” I reassured him with the truth.

“Well, how are you feeling about the whole thing?” He asked tentatively, as if he was afraid of my answer. I allowed myself to contemplate for a few moments before answering, so that I could say the right thing. “Well, at first I was scared. It was just so out of the blue Chris, and my brain couldn’t process it all.” I watched him watch me as I spoke, “Then, I felt really angry. I was so mad that after all of this time you decided to drop that bomb of a confession right before I had to start my most stressful week of the year. That, along with the simple fact that I am in a relationship, no matter how toxic, and you went and made things even more complicated.” His gaze dropped to the dead space between us, clearly having a difficult time hearing how upset I had been.

“But,” His eyes met mine again as I continued, “I almost felt relieved? Like, it kind of felt like this was how it was always supposed to end up, if that makes sense. It was like some part of me knew that the universe was planning something like this to happen in a way, and that all of our sneaking around was just the build up.” I felt my heart in my throat as I spoke of feelings that I hadn’t even known I was feeling before; shocked by my own confession. By the expression on his face, I could tell that he was just as confused.

“Wait, what?” Said Chris, his eyes widening slightly. I stared back at him in silence, terrified that I might have said too much and gotten this whole thing wrong. Oh God, what if he came here to back out of what he had said last week? What if his jealousy had just overpowered him in the moment, and he was here to backtrack. Even more, what if he was here to end things between us completely? I began to feel myself panic at all of the thoughts flying through my head at rapid speed, before he finally spoke.

“Are you — are you saying that you might want this too?” Chris asked, his voice one of hesitant optimism. Immediately, I felt my initial wave of dread vanish and a new, almost excited anxiety take its place. I bent forward, resting my arms on my knees, and groaned into my hands at the feeling. “I…do.” I finally said, my voice muffled by the concealment of my face behind my fingers.

The room stayed silent for what felt like forever, my last words sat heavy in the air between us. I was so anxious I couldn’t bear to look anywhere, so I scrunched my eyes tightly shut and made every attempt at calming my nerves.

“Come here.”

Chris’s voice was so soft and calm — a refreshing contrast to the racing thoughts in my own mind — that it caused my eyes to snap open and fall on him. He still looked a bit nervous, but the genuine smile that shone across his face allowed me to release the deep breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding. I scooted even closer to him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me. With my head tucked into his neck, I breathed him in; allowing my nervous system a moment to relax.

“We’re really doing this then?” I finally asked as he rubbed gentle circles on my back. He let out a soft chuckle. “Looks like it.” I pulled away from his embrace and brushed his hair out of his beautiful face. “I’m gonna have to end things with Brad tomorrow after our Biology final.” I sighed, dreading the inevitable conversation that was I was sure would be made more difficult by Brad and his disrespect. However, Chris’s pleased expression brought me some joy, because at the end of the day he was who I really wanted.

Feeling like I was on cloud nine, I wrapped my arms around Chris’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Right as my lips barely grazed his, however, he mumbled something and pulled back. “No,” he began, shaking his head firmly. “We gotta do this right. Things are different now and we’re not just sneaking around, so it feels wrong to just kiss you behind everyone’s back like we had to before. Take your exam, have a conversation with Brad, and then we can start from the beginning.”

My jaw physically dropped, shocked at the maturity of Chris’s words. I wish he wasn’t but I knew that he was right. Now that we were headed in the direction of something more serious, it would be so much more meaningful to wait until all of the wrinkles of our situation had been ironed out. I gave him a smile and nodded softly, letting him know that he was right.

“So, how did you get here?” I asked, stretching my arms behind my head to work the kinks out of my sore back. “Matt dropped me off. I had to offer to do the laundry for a full month for it though.” I laughed at his response, but was also touched by the idea as I knew that Chris despised laundry more than anything. “Jesus, no kidding, that’s a long drive just to turn right back around and go back to Boston.”

“Well, no. He should still be downstairs. I told him to wait outside for a while just in case things didn’t go so well up here.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly at this fact, but I understood what he meant. “Well, if you want you can tell him to head back and you can spend the night here. I was already planning on heading back home tomorrow night so I can just take you with me.” I offered, glancing quickly at him through my eyelashes as I did to gauge his reaction. Immediately, a smile flashed across his face and he shot up from the couch as if he had been hoping I would say that. “I’m down. Let me just run to his car and grab by duffel bag.” I laughed at his reaction, and the fact that he had clearly intended on staying the night if he played his cards right.

Before walking to the door, he leaned over my figure and planted a quick kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be right back. Maybe once I grab my stuff I can quiz you for your exam or some shit. Don’t want you to not be prepared tomorrow just because I’m here.” My heard fluttered from the sensation of his lips on my skin in combination with his thoughtful words, and I had to fight the urge to pull his face to mine. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Once I finally made it back to my apartment, I slammed the front door shut and slid against it down to the floor. I ran my hands through my snow-covered hair as I tried to catch my breath and wrap my head around what I had just done.

I finally broke up with Brad.

As suspected, he didn’t take it well. To be honest, it had been a bad choice of mine to do it as we were walking towards the exit of the exam building, but I hadn’t expected him to break down into tears and get down on his knees in front of countless other students and professors, begging me to reconsider. I could still hear the echos of his wails as I literally ran away through the double exit doors of the building, and I continued to run as fast as I could until I reached the lobby of my apartment complex.

And now here I was, feeling everything all at once and trying to make sense of all that has happened over the past twenty four hours. As I mulled through everything, the sound of my shower turning on caught my attention. In all of my stress from writing my exam to breaking up with Brad, I had nearly forgotten what all of it was for.

Chris.

I stood up and slowly walked towards the bathroom. Putting my ear against the door, I smiled as I listened to him quietly sing along to a Ken Carson song playing from his phone as he showered. Checking the door knob, I realized that he had left it unlocked and I decided to enter the humid washroom. The room had already begun to fill up with steam, but I could still see Chris’s back through the glass shower door. He was facing away from me, and the music was loud so he clearly had no clue that I was there.

Quickly and quietly, I began to take off my clothes from the day; keeping my eyes on him the entire time to make sure he still hadn’t noticed my presence. Once fully unclothed, I took my hair out of my messy bun and began walking towards the shower. Standing at the glass now, I brought my knuckles against the cool surface and gently knocked.

At my knocking, Chris’s body jolted and he quickly turned his body to face me. When he saw that it was just me standing there, his body visibly relaxed and a smile crossed his lips. “Hey.” He said as his eyes travelled across my naked body. “Hey.” I returned as I opened the shower door and began climbing in. I stood in front of his naked figure, the stream of water from the shower head beginning to mist my hair.

“Did you talk to him?” Asked Chris, his eyes searching my face; clearly trying to gauge my expression. I tilted my head to the side and smirked slightly. “I did.” He continued to just stare, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly. “I ended it.” I added, causing a smile to immediately cross his face. “So we’re really doing this, huh?” Chris asked as he brought his hands to my hips, pulling my body towards him directly under the shower head. Now getting completely rained on, I squeezed my eyes shut and chuckled. “What, you getting cold feet already kid?” I asked jokingly, opening my eyes to look at him and standing on my tip toes so that I could bring my face closer to his.

“No, obviously not, it’s just,” He paused when I brushed my wet lips against his softly, before whispering, “It’s just a bit scary.” I brought my hands to the back of his head, where I mindlessly twirled my fingers through his curls. “What’s scary?” My hushed tone now matched his as I spoke. “I’ve just never been in a relationship before, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I’m really really out of my realm here Y/n.” He confessed, his tone somber and his eyes fearful.

I grabbed my bottom lip with my teeth, completely understanding what he was saying but not wanting to unintentionally confirm his fears by agreeing. So instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him against me. After a moment of relishing in the feeling of his skin pressed firmly against mine, feeling our hearts beat as one, I spoke.

“Let me show you that you don’t need to be scared of anything.” I gazed up at him as he looked down at me, and after a short while he nodded his head. Rubbing his back delicately, I spoke. “Things aren’t going to be much different, you know,” I began placing soft kisses along his collarbone, “Sure we won’t be sneaking around,” More kisses along his shoulder, “And there will be a certain level of accountability and loyalty that wasn’t there before,” My mouth moved to his jaw, “But those are all good things because,” Finally, my lips were hovering in front of his, so close to touching that I could feel his anxious breath against them.

“They mean that I’m all yours.”

At that, Chris crashed his lips against mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue swirled against mine. I gasped as Chris suddenly pressed my back against the cool tiled wall where he continued to dominate my mouth. I felt his quickly growing member press against my hip, and reached forward to begin stroking it slowly. A soft moan fell from his mouth, and I began to move my hand up and down quicker along his hard shaft. He bucked his hips slightly at the sensation, and moved his lips to leave deep kisses along my neck, down to my nipples. He gave my left nipple one long drag with his tongue before engulfing the entire thing in his mouth. He sucked hard and bit tenderly on the tip of my nipple the way he knew I liked, and I couldn’t help but release a small whine at the building need in between my legs.

“Let me make you feel good.” Chris mumbled against my tit, grabbing my ass firmly with both hands. “Me first.” I replied, a smirk on my face with his cock still tight in my grasp. Slowly, I dropped to my knees on the shower floor and was face to face with his swollen cock. Gazing at me as water dripped down his entire body, Chris watched as I placed my lips around his red tip; swirling my tongue to lap up the salty pre cum that had begun to drip from his slit. I watched his erotic expressions as his body shuddered from the sensation, and slowly began bobbing my head up and down the length of his cock. I began pumping my hand along his last few inches that I couldn’t fit in my mouth, and had to stifle my own anticipatory moan from how turned on I had made myself just by knowing that it was my mouth that was allowing him to feel this pleasure.

Not being able to take the painfully aroused state I was in, I brought my free hand between my own legs; gently massaging my own clit to relieve just a bit of the tension. The immediate satisfaction caused me to moan on Chris’s cock, which in turn caused him to press his hand against the shower wall to support his weakened frame. As he watched me pleasure both of us, his jaw slacked and his eyes glazed over with pure lust. I continued to vigorously bob my head, though I was beginning to get distracted by my own heightened arousal as my fingers maintained their pressure on my swollen clit. As tears welled in my eyes I swallowed the entire length of his shaft and began deep throating him, watching his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his free hand moved to grab my hair.

“Fuck baby, I might cum.” His words came out gravelly through his bright pink lips, and I hummed in response as I continued to swirl my tongue around the base of his dick. Suddenly, Chris released a throaty moan before pulling his hips back and detaching my lips from his member with a pop. Instinctually, I tilted my head up and opened my mouth; sticking my tongue out with a slight smirk. I watched as Chris pumped his cock with his own hand a few times before his warm fluid coated my expectant face. I quickly swallowed the few drops that had landed in my mouth, and smiled softly up at Chris as he watched. He brought his thumb to my lower lip and swiped delicately; collecting a drop of his cum that had landed there before placing it on my tongue. Tauntingly, I closed my lips around his thumb and sucked it gently as his breath hitched.

He took his thumb out of my mouth and helped me to my feet. Wrapping an arm around the small of my back, he guided me directly under the stream of water before tilting my head back so that his seed could wash off of my face. After a moment, he pulled me back out of the water and pressed me into his chest. His hands travelled across my back and down to my ass, where he began massaging softly. As he massaged, the tips of his fingers grazed my slit from the back and I began to feel the urgent need to be touched. I nibbled at his skin and subconsciously arched my back in an attempt to give his hands better access to where I needed them most.

He ran a finger through my slick folds and my heart rate quickened against his chest. “You think you can manage to go again?” I breathed as he continued to tease me. I felt his body shift slightly as he chuckled. “Yup. Just give me a minute.” The words barely left his mouth before he dropped to his knees and backed my body up against the wall in one swift motion. Before I had a moment to process anything, his mouth connected to my bundle of nerves. To grant himself easier access, he grabbed my right leg and put it over his shoulder as I moaned out at the sensation that the new angle provided. His mouth moved rhythmically as his tongue swirled around my clit in the way that he knows drives me crazy, and I already began to feel the early whispers of an orgasm in my lower stomach.

After a few moments of bliss, my body was suddenly jolted into reality when he removed his lips from me and stood up. Keeping me pinned to the wall, he attacked my mouth with his own. Deep and carelessly, our lips moved in sync with one another as Chris simultaneously hooked my leg around his hip to press his body even closer to mine. Suddenly, our kiss was cut off by my open-mouthed gasp as Chris slammed his cock deep into my core. Without giving me a moment to adjust to his size, he began driving into me with quick strokes. I struggled to continue to stand — both because of the slippery shower and the velocity of his movements — so I dug my nails into his back for grip; sure to leave deep scratches by the time we were finished.

“Fuck Chris, you’re so big.” I moaned out, feeling my core stretch out with each of his thrusts. “Oh come on baby, you can take it.” His tone was mocking, but it came out breathless as he relentlessly pummelled into me.

His face was pressed against mine, and my view of his feverish gaze and tightened jaw was interrupted periodically only by his sloppy kisses along my jaw. As his pace began to grow more careless, my vision began to grow blurry from my approaching orgasm. “Chris, please keep going I’m so close.” I begged, fearful that his second orgasm would come quicker than my first.

He brought his hand to my throat and squeezed it delicately, his eyes on mine. “I’ll wait for you, princess. Want to cum with you.” His hand moved from my throat down to my clit, where he began rubbing it fiercely. The additional contact from him instantly sent a jolt of electricity down my spine, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was going to reach my climax. “C-chris, I’m — oh God I’m cumming.” I practically screamed as the wave of overwhelming pleasure hit me. As my walls pulsed erratically around his cock, Chris released a raspy moan — a clear indicator that he had also reached his own orgasm. His movements slowed tremendously as we both rode out our highs; both of our fluids and slurred profanities in harmony with one another.

Chris’s hips stopped moving completely as we both leaned our heads against the shower wall, catching our breath. His hand that had previously been on my clit was now resting on my inner thigh where it was thoughtlessly rubbing up and down my soft skin. The thick steam in the shower was making it even harder for me to catch my breath, so I turned the temperature down before stepping under the stream of water to begin cooling myself down. Chris followed suit, and squeezed some shampoo into his hand before lathering my hair with it. Humming at the relaxing feeling of his hands massaging my scalp, I leaned back against his firm chest.

“See, at least you know that part of our relationship didn’t change.” I said jokingly as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. “No, it definitely did.” He responded, and I froze. Once again I was worried that he had changed his mind; that maybe he thought the sex might start to be boring, or that sex with emotion was too sappy. Just as those insecurities began to rear their head, Chris’s eyes softened with a big smile as he pulled me towards him. “It got even better.” I felt my body relax in his arms at those words, and I beamed up at him. “I agree.” I pressed a soft kiss to his collar bone.

“Now let’s hurry up, I want to get back to Boston before it gets dark out.” I said as I hurriedly lathered by body with shower gel. Chris moved from his place under the shower head to give me space to wash off before exiting the shower. “Stay at mine tonight? We can watch Christmas movies!” He exclaimed as he grabbed a towel to dry off. I rolled my eyes with a smile. “You’re such a cornball. But unfortunately I think I might be too because that sounds great.” He giggled at this before poking his head back into the shower to plant a kiss on my nose. “I’m really happy we’re doing this.”

“Doing what? Getting excited over watching Christmas movies?” I asked with a chuckle. “No — well, yes. But no. I meant I’m — I’m really happy you’re all mine now.” His words made me melt a little inside, and I brought an affectionate hand to his jaw and brushed my thumb against it. I took a moment to really admire his perfect features — in awe of my current reality where a man as beautiful as him could feel the way he does about me— before responding, “Me too, Chris. I’m happy I’m all yours too.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

taglist:

@chrattstromboli @sncstur

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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ltbarnes · 3 months

Text

Back to December (2/2)

Summary: Your new job as an assistant for the CEO of a big, shiny company was supposed to be a good thing. Instead your ex from uni who completely ghosted you out of nowhere several years ago happens to be one of your superiors. It doesn’t help that he’s only gotten more handsome over the years. But you hate him for leaving without an explanation, and he seems to hate you too. Everything is just fucking great.

Pairing: ex!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Word count: 7k

Warnings: OFFICE AU (Ghost is not ceo but he’s up there in the company somewhere), exes to enemies to lovers, harassment, past emotional violence/threats, blood, smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)

A/N: Took me a few weeks but it’s finally here ;) you guys don’t understand how happy it made me when so many people loved the last part!! makes me so excited to write more for the cod fandom! (I have not proofread this because I was too excited to publish it so there might be errors and weird stuff lol)

Part 1

Masterlist

The car ride is quiet. He glances your way whenever you wince. You watch his hand gripping the stirring wheel tightly, fingers drumming along anxiously with the faint beat of a song coming from the radio.

It's a nice car. Like, you would not afford this even if you saved up for years. You knew Simon was influential in the company, but this...it almost scares you. He's fucking rich. Probably going to laugh at you when he pulls up outside of your apartment building.

This is the first time you have ever been in a car with him. You wish things were different. Mostly that your eyes weren't so puffy from crying. And that he wasn't your ex and you weren't working together.

A red light forces him to slow down into a stop, the only sound now being the wind picking up pace outside. It's so quiet for a few seconds that you barely have the courage to breathe.

"Why did you fuck up my entire office? Whole day was ruined," Simon speaks from nowhere. Your lip twitches, fighting the urge to smirk despite the pain tormenting you.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Of course it was you. No one else in there knows that I'd have a bloody breakdown over my files being out of order," he mutters.

You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head. "It was petty. But...I was mad. About the coffee-thing." Your voice grows softer with each word, merely a whisper by the end.

Simon clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "Yeah, uh...not my finest moment."

A thick silence falls over the car once more. None of you dare to talk about the thing that actually needs to be brought up, the dark cloud hanging over your shared past. You are not really mad at each other over coffee.

The drive takes much longer than usual because of the heavy rain. You're shivering despite the heat being on. It's been thirty minutes once the wheels slow down right outside of your apartment, and you instantly move to get out after throwing a sincere 'thank you' his way. It's all you can muster.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Simon asks, not even making an attempt to answer to what you were saying.

"What do you mean?" You stop, looking over your shoulder with one hand on the door. You just want to go inside, away from his gaze before it all gets too much.

Simon unbuckles his belt, getting out of the car. Rounds the entirety of it until he's opening your door, leaning down to look at you with a frown.

"You're hurt, for fuck's sake, Y/n. You can't take care of that yourself, no way."

You sigh out of frustration, shaking your head while looking away from him. "Why are you being nice to me, Simon?"

That seems to halt him in his actions. Simon blinks, pauses for a few seconds, before opening his mouth again. "Don't know. But I'm in a chipper fucking mood, so just let me get you out of the car, okay?"

You huff, giving no protest as he takes a hold of your waist to assist you out onto the curb. "You're not in a good mood..." you mutter under your breath. He just scoffs.

Simon sits and waits for you in the kitchen as you wrangle yourself out of your wet clothes into an old sweatshirt and a pair of pyjama shorts. For much too long you stand in front of the mirror, staring at the newly formed bruise on your upper arm. You have to take a few shaky breaths to force the tears back before you limp back into the kitchen.

This outfit of yours is the last thing you want to wear around him, but it's what the situation requires. But did you really have to be so dramatic and fall onto your knees before? This is going to take weeks to heal. And now you have Simon sitting on your chair waiting to patch you up. Simon.

"The first aid kit is in the bathroom, I'm just gonna go get—" You point with your thumb.

He's on his feet before you even have the chance to finish the sentence. You barely even processed the fact that he's discarded his suit jacket and shirt, now walking around your home with a white tank that does no good job at hiding his fucking massive muscles. His arms are covered in tattoos that he definitely didn't have when you last saw him. Fuck.

Simon returns just a minute later, already rummaging through the box for...something. You don't really know what's required for a wound like this. He was right about you not being able to take care of it yourself, which you hate. Loathe, actually.

"Sit down," he tells you, dragging out a chair from the table as if you are his guest and not the other way around. The strangest thing is that you listen, without a single protest. He seems to still have that power over you.

You can't take your eyes off of him as he kneels down, grabbing a hold of cotton and some liquid-thingy you didn't even know you had in that kit.

"Is that gonna hurt?" you ask, his hand one inch from touching your knee. Simon sighs, blinking as if he's going to lose it soon.

"Well, what do you think? It's alcohol in a bleeding wound. Of fucking course it's gonna hurt."

You grimace, biting your cheek, before inching back just slightly. "Then I don't wanna do it," you whisper.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Grow up for once, will you?"

"What do you mean ‘for once’?" you seethe, retracting yourself entirely from his proximity as he rolls his eyes.

"Well, c'mon, what you did today was just...fucking childish." Still sitting on his knees, but it feels like he's towering over you the way he speaks.

"Uh—like you acting like your coffee was cold when it clearly wasn't just to humiliate me wasn't childish too! You started it!"

You rise to your feet, turning away from Simon out of frustration.

"Sit down, Y/n."

"No! I won't...let you in my apartment to order me around and...and—"

"Just sit down," he seethes, getting up to his feet. Now he's really towering over you. You hate it.

You continue walking away towards your bathroom, letting out a wince as you put too much weight on the bad knee. You keep walking anyways.

"Y/n, for fuck's sake!" Simon follows you. He could have been ahead of you if he wanted to already, but he stays behind for some reason. "Why won't you listen to me?"

His yelling makes you turn around with so much anger in your expression. But the anger can't hide the tears pooling in your eyes—nothing can.

"Because you left me!"

Silence. Thick, anxious silence as he stands there dumbfounded. His chest is heaving from your altercation.

"You left me without a single word, Simon! Not even a fucking hint!"

His previous stunned silence turns into a bitter chuckle, one hand on his hip and the other running over his chin as he shakes his head. You see the change in his eyes—irritation turned into real anger.

"Not a hint, huh?" he scoffs. "You could've given a fucking hint that you were sick of me before you went and fucked Graves and half of his team behind my back."

All of a sudden the roles are switched, and you're the one stunned silent. A person who can barely process the words you just heard—did you hear right? Could Simon ever say that to you?

"I was so happy that night. Just wanted to celebrate with my team and my girl—searched the whole party for you, you know?" Simon shakes his head, still that cold, deprecating chuckle on his lips. "And then I find you eating up Philip fucking Graves' face and two of his friends. Fucking two of them, Y/n!"

Agressive flashes of fear-filled memories attack you along with the line of Simon's retelling of that night you go back to so often. Of what you could have done differently, of the anger you felt that he just had to make things worse. Water was up to your neck, pressing on your lungs, and his abandonment pushed your head under the surface.

"You get your fucking boyfriend to back down or we'll leave your pretty body half-conscious on his doorstep."

"Please, just let me go. I'll talk to him, I promise. Please." You were sobbing, the emotions heightened by the vodka in your bloodstream.

"Such an obedient little puppy, huh? No wonder he spends all his time fucking you instead of hanging out with the team." Philip's laughter filled the room, looking over his shoulder to his friends who found just as much amusement in the situation as him.

"Nothing to say, huh?"

Simon's voice shatters your deep train of thought with the sheer bitterness behind it. It makes the tears fall faster.

"You...you saw that?" you ask weakly, your voice frail as if you have been crying for hours. Your arms come up to shield yourself from the invisible presence of them, hugging your torso as if it helps.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. It was fucking hell, seeing the girl you love cheating on you with three guys. So I'm sorry if I've been acting like a bloody prick, but I can't just pretend I'm not still so fucking angry at you. Don't come crying here saying that my behavior isn't justified when you know damn well why I'm mad at you."

All these years. So many sleepless nights obsessing over every detail of your behavior during your relationship, and this is the answer. You have been so angry at him over leaving, and you never thought you would understand why. But you do, and it breaks your heart even more.

Blood is smeared all over your leg as you look down, and that still doesn't hurt as much as the fact that Simon has gone around for years hating you, thinking that you cheated on him. You loved him so much. Betraying him is the last thing you ever would have done. You understand Johnny's reaction now too—he thought you cheated on his best friend. That's not something you just forgive. It's your job to be mad at the people who wrong your friends.

But a nagging voice in the back of your head tells you to be angry. Simon walked past that dark bedroom, saw what was happening, and left. He could have saved you. It's an unfair thought to have. You can't be upset with him for misunderstanding. He couldn't have known about the threats dealt out in that room, or that the passionate kisses he witnessed was in reality seething, harsh words and a much too up and close Philip Graves. But it still hurts. Still haunts you, having three massive rugby players crowding you in and promising to beat you to a pulp.

A loud sniffle comes from your lips, drying the tears away from your face with the back of your hand. Blinking to rid yourself of the water on your lashes. You have to tell him. Simon looks about ready to leave.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say breathily. Your voice cracks in the middle of it.

"Sorry?" he shakes his head, lifts his eyebrow as if assessing the word. It's clear that's not enough for him.

"I'm sorry you thought I cheated all this time. I understand why—" A hiccup,"—I get why you left."

Your choice of words changes his demeanor. From hostile, clenched jaw with a fire simmering underneath the surface to hostile, clenched jaw and confused.

"I didn't kiss anyone, Simon. I didn't—I didn't do anything with Philip, or any of his friends." Broken words, distorted by the constant movement of your chest and throat as your body desperately fights for you to let out the sobs. Not yet. "They wanted me to get you to quit the team, and I couldn't...I couldn't fight back. Not against all of them."

Nostrils flare, lip is bitten down on. A veiny hand runs over a mouth. Blinking. Hands shake with contained...fury? You don't know who it's directed at.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" he seethes, taking a step forward that makes you take one back.

"We weren't kissing. They were threatening me. Said I'd be left on your doorstep bleeding and bruised if I didn't convince you to stop going after the Captain position. I was so scared, Simon," you say, voice cracking pathetically on the last sentence.

He’s quiet for much too long. You can’t read him, standing there so exposed and vulnerable and he’s silent. That’s why his outburst is so sudden.

"Fuck!"

You flinch, inching backwards as Simon turns around yelling. Not once have you heard him scream this loud. So you stand there, rooted in place, tears streaming down your face as he tugs at his hair with his hands. His chest heaves as if he just ran five miles.

You tremble too. The first sob comes out. It's a sad, pathetic sob that you try to muffle with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Futile. Simon turns around. You can't see his expression through the blur of your tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, burying your face into the palms of your cold hands.

You almost jump as strong arms pull you into the tightest hug you have ever lived through. It's an urgent one, a desperate one. It's warm. Your cheek gets mushed against his damp shirt, hand encasing the back of your head as his chest rises up and down with his rugged breaths.

You lose the single crumb of composure you had left. If Simon wasn't a wall of a man he would have been dragged down with you as your legs lose the ability to carry you, just like in the alleyway. He notices anyway, slowly sitting the two of you down on the floor. Your knee is protected by a gentle hand keeping it from colliding with the hardwood.

"I am so, so sorry, Y/n," Simon tells you on a frail voice. It almost sounds like he's on the verge of crying too. You didn't know his voice could sound soft. "I am so sorry I didn't protect you. That I just—I just walked away. So fucking thickheaded—"

Your fingers clasp onto his shirt, tugging just slightly. It's your silent 'stop'. A reassurance that he doesn't need to blame himself. You understand.

"All these years I—I hated you for something you didn't even do. Fuck, I didn't even give you a chance to explain."

He shakes his head, his hold around you tightening subconsciously. It takes a few seconds before he realizes and softens again.

"Oh fucking hell. I got Graves suspended the day before 'cause I ratted him out to Coach about smoking fucking weed. Fucking shit, this is all my fault. I am so sorry," Simon croaks out. His voice will give in any minute to the guilt and frustration and anger and tears.

"Simon..." you whisper before sniffling, putting your hand on his chest. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself."

He shakes his head again. He will give himself a concussion soon from how much he's done it this night.

"It's not your fault. It's...it was horrible. But it was them, not you. Someone came and stopped it before they could do anything worse."

He takes in a sharp breath. You can almost feel the way his jaw clenches. "Anything worse? They put their hands on you?" he whispers bitterly. "Shouldn't have happened at all. I should have been with you earlier."

"Just some bruises from when they dragged me into that room. But I know you wouldn't have let it happen if you knew. Of course I know that, Simon," you say softly, sitting up just slightly. You don't know when your tears stopped. It's just your throbbing head and the runny nose left. "Simon, you were so protective of me. You cared so much—I know you would have stopped them if you knew. But you didn't know."

Dirty blond hair and his scruffy neck is all you're met with. He doesn't even look your way. And then he's suddenly on his feet, towering over your figure on the floor.

"You're still bleeding. Need to fix it."

You can't answer. Don't even have the opportunity to—Simon's hands sneak under yours arms and lift you up to a stand before you can open your mouth again.

"Simon..."

He keeps quiet. It's that brooding thing where he overthinks. Did it when you were together too. A lot. Simon carries a lot of guilt around, steals it from others and guards it safely within himself. You don't really know how he bears it all.

The sofa sinks underneath your weight as he slowly loosens his hold around your waist, placing you so gently onto the cushions. Might as well be made of glass to him. But then you think that it must be exactly how he views you right now—a delicate, frail thing who needs protection from any and every threat. You have already amassed cracks during the years, during the day even, and just one push will leave you to splinter.

Once again he kneels before you. This time you don't find it frustratingly hot. Now it's soft, a little sad even. There's a frown so deep in between his eyebrows you fear it might become permanent this time.

You don't say anything as you let him clean your wound. Maybe you hiss a little once the alcohol touches the broken skin, but make no move to protest. Simon might need this more than you. Okay, you don't want to die from an infection, but you could have done this with a lot less grace. You would have ten minutes ago.

"I still am, you know," he mutters after many, many minutes of silence. He's wrapping a bandage around your leg.

"What?" you breathe out softly, looking down at his concentrated frown.

"Protective of you," he answers. "I still care. Even if we're not together." Simon gulps, stops for just a second in his work.

"You are?"

His eyebrows rise for a second, corners of his lips threatening to tug upwards. "Didn't see me earlier in the lobby? I was gonna curse you out real fucking good. For my office."

"But you didn't."

"No. I couldn't, not when I saw that you were crying." His hand suddenly stops, resting on your good knee, before he looks up at you. "Why the hell were you crying, Y/n?"

Instantly you close off again, glancing away to escape that concerned expression that makes his eyes so dark and soft. It's an irresistible thing.

"Please, love. I need to—I need to make it better."

You pretend to ignore that Simon just called you love. Instead you focus on the fact that he's trying to compensate for that December night. For all the years you had a broken heart without knowing the reason why.

"Just...something that brought back some bad memories, that's all. Unpleasant encounter." It's practically mumbled, your answer, and you know Simon always hated when you mumbled. Wanted to hear your pretty voice loud and clear, he used to tell you.

His ever present frown grows impossibly deeper. Simon is speculating with himself, it's clear on his expression.

"With someone at work? Who bothered you, Y/n? Who the fuck made you cry?" he seethes, running his hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from saying something worse.

You shake your head. Your instinct tells you to dismiss it, say that it's fine. But maybe you shouldn't, for once. Just tell him that Shepherd actually said something that was far from okay. He was in the wrong. You shouldn't be the one to suffer in silence anymore.

"There was this—you know the man who always wears a Rolex and has the corner office? Shepherd?" you say meekly.

Simon's jaw clenches, but still his hand on your thigh is so gentle. "What the fuck did he do?"

"He...I ran into him on my way home. Collided right into his chest." You swallow air, looking down at the point of contact between you and Simon. "And he caught me. Didn't let go when I tried to go away. And he had this look in his eyes. Was so close, too. I couldn't breathe."

"Fucking hell," Simon groans.

"He said he just wanted to talk...but then he started commenting on my dresses. That he'd watched me 'strut around', as if I purposely put on a show for him, or something. Told me to come into his office on Monday and wear something nice so he would have something sweet to look at. I had to beg him to let me go."

"He the reason you've been clutching your arm the whole night?" Simon asks tensely, nodding down to where the bruise hides underneath your sweater.

You didn't even notice you did that. But it's sore when you move it. The answer to his question comes from your uneasy glance up at him that makes him close his eyes. You think it's to contain something—to calm down.

"He won't get fucking near you again, Y/n."

You gulp, blinking. "But he works there...he's one of my superiors."

"No. The fuck he isn't. He's not stepping a foot inside that building again."

"What?"

"Price will have him fucking murdered for even looking at you funny. Been looking for an excuse to get rid of him for years, and this...I'm so sorry, love. You shouldn't have to put up with that."

You shake your head, looking down to the point where Simon still has the bloodied cotton pressed against your knee.

"You would do that for me?" you ask softly, almost a whisper.

"Do fucking anything for you, Y/n. Would have even during all these years that I was too bloody stupid to reach out." With his hand on your thigh, he shakes your leg gently, enough to make you look him in the eye again. "You were my girl, you know? Swore I'd protect you from every fucker who even looked at you wrong, and not only did I fail at saving you from those fucking worthless pieces of shit who laid their hands on you, but I didn't protect you from myself. Will never forgive myself for that."

Simon's words makes your lower lip tremble again, and you let out something akin to a whimper and sigh before speaking.

"None of that is your fault," you say. "Even though I would've appreciated if you talked to me before just leaving back then, I understand why you didn't. If it was the other way around and I thought you were out with three girls, I would've been crushed. Wouldn't be able to look at you again without breaking into sobs."

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. It's clear that he doesn't take your words to heart, but there's still something in your statement that registers within him.

"You never told me that you cared for me that much." Simon clears his throat, as if the words are a lump stuck in his airways.

You sigh. You know it's true—you held back on saying those three words for months, thinking that the time had to be right and he couldn't possibly feel as strongly as you did. Then he broke up with you and you never got the chance.

"I wanted to. I wanted to tell you everyday, but I was scared that you wouldn't say it back."

Simon scoffs. "For fuck's sake, Y/n. I loved the shit out of you. Thought everyone could see that from the way I trailed after you like a lovesick puppy."

A bittersweet chuckle comes from your lips, shaking your head to yourself. Blinking away tears stuck in your eyelashes. "I should've told you sooner." It's a decibel away from a whisper.

Simon looks at you as if what will come out of your mouth is the most important thing in the world.

"I think I...I still feel that for you. A little bit," you admit. "It's pathetic that I'm still hung up on you after so many years, but it's hard, Simon. Seeing you everyday and not act like we used to."

"Don't you think I haven't wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you every single day these past two weeks?" Simon seethes. "I've jerked off in the bathroom outside my office more times than I can count and literally cried like a pathetic jerk in Johnny's arms the first day you started work 'cause I was still so fucking hurt that you didn't love me as much as I loved you. I'm a grown ass man, Y/n, and it was years ago. That's how much you meant to me."

"You cried?" you ask breathily, your head empty except his words echoing. Bend you over my desk.

"I've sobbed like a fucking fool countless times over you. The weekend after I saw you—after I thought that I saw you with them—I went back to my mum's house and wailed like a baby into her chest." Simon chuckles, a bittersweet expression on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"No. None of that shit. I caused it. Should've just asked you instead of taking off. Wasn't man enough for you back then. I'm the one who needs to apologize."

You bite down on your lower lip, doing something akin to a nod as you glance away, out of the window.

"And now?" you ask. "Are you man enough now?"

"Careful, love..." Simon says, his voice strained. "Don't give me hope."

"Hope for what?"

"You know damn fucking well what I'm hoping for," he answers gruffly. You gulp, lips parting to release a shallow breath. His brown eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide from the intensity of his gaze. You know that look.

"Simon, you know I feel the same. You know it." It's nearly a whisper, what comes out of your mouth. Leaning forward just slightly, closer to his face where he's kneeling on the floor. "I already told you earlier that I still—"

Your back is pressed against the cushions of the couch as Simon surges up from his place on the floor. Calloused, tattooed hands grip your face gently as those pink lips you've dreamed about for the past two weeks devour yours desperately. Shuts you up real good.

"I've missed you so fucking much," Simon growls, a certain ferocity in his voice that makes him sound like a beast bowing only for his woman. He kisses you again. "Please. Please let me show you how fucking good I can be to you."

There's no real point in acting as if his words isn't the best thing you've ever heard. You're already panting and preening for him, so acting as if the answer will be anything but yes is futile. You nod furiously, holding onto his wrists.

"Yes. Please, Simon. Yes," you answer breathily, desperately.

The grunt coming from his chest makes your thighs clench together, resonating deeply within your core as the memories of how his touch felt all those years ago spark up every last nerv-ending in your body. Before you even know it, Simon has his large hands on your waist, lifting you up from the couch and sitting down himself. Your thighs straddling his, face to face and chest to chest.

"Ow. Simon, my knee," you say with a chuckle, leaning back enough to keep the pressure off your wounded leg.

"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, love. Are you alright?" he asks, an instantly guilty expression on his face. Didn't seem to pick up on the laugh from your lips. He looks like someone just kicked a puppy in front of him.

"I'm just fine, Si." Your hands come up to his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks underneath your fingertips. "Maybe we shouldn't sit like this, though."

"We don't have to do this tonight. I'll wait for as long as you want me to," he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of your wrist. It almost makes you cry. He always did that back in uni.

"I'll literally fucking burst if I don't have you inside me within the next ten minutes. We'll work around it. I don't care."

Simon chuckles. A sound that comes from deep within his chest, rumbling and warm and so familiar. It festers within you and sprouts, spreading safety and comfort through your blood. Makes you smile, genuinely. He stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto your thighs.

The bed sinks down underneath your weight as he lowers you down on the sheets, so careful to not touch your now patched up knee.

"Just as desperate for me now as you were then, huh?" Simon teases, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his massive frame hovers above yours.

God, your body remembers. It remembers him so well, surrendering to his rough, deep voice as it whispers into your ear. It's an instant thing you feel—safety and simultaneously giddiness. You giggle like a goddamn schoolgirl with a crush, sneaking your arms around Simon's broad shoulders as you nod.

"Mhm, I am," you admit. Without shame. "I've really missed you, Simon. I really have." Your words are softer than before, void of the teasing tone they previously held.

He sighs. Presses his chapped lips to the corner of your mouth, slowly moving down to your jawline, neck. Simon is the toughest, biggest man you know. Curses like a sailor and can snap you in half. But oh, he's so gentle with you. When he wants to, at least. You remember those nights when desperation overtook him, clothes ripping and the breath fucked out of you. And you loved those nights just as much as the ones where he would just trace his lips over your skin for an hour before even touching your by then sickeningly wet folds.

But after years and years of separation and an emotionally wrecking fight that finally led to reunion, gentleness and patience isn't high on your list right now. You want to rip his clothes off and taste him again and feel him inside of you and kiss him even more and touch every inch of his skin. Though, Simon keeps trailing his mouth down your neck, hand inching underneath the hem of your sweatshirt as he hums. The sound makes you giggle. Fucking hell you've missed him.

"Something funny, love?" Simon asks, raising a challenging eyebrow as he lifts his head from your skin.

"Just that sound. Been thinking it about it sometimes."

"Thinking about it, huh?" he probes, pushing your sweatshirt over your head, forcing you to raise your arms. A deep groan comes from his lips as the lace of your bra is revealed to him, the fabric delicate enough to show the outline of your nipple. "Oh, fucking hell. You tryin' to make me come in my goddamn pants, yeah? It's not nice."

"I didn't know you'd see my bra when I put it on this morning, Simon," you chuckle, gaze flickering down to see his frankly hungry gaze.

"Didn't put it on for someone else to see it, did you?" he asks, something akin to doubt in his eyes. Or maybe not doubt, but nervousness.

"No. There's no one else," you admit. "Haven't...been many others since you."

"Not for me either. No one is like you. Tried, but it was bloody useless. Fucking nothing is better than my sweet girl when she's wrapped around my cock."

His statement confuses you for just a second before his hand sneaks it's way underneath your pyjama shorts, cupping your pussy and feeling the embarrassing wetness already soaking your underwear.

"Let me taste you, love," he pleads. You're already squirming, bucking your hips against his hand in search for friction. All you can do to answer is nod, and the second after, your shorts are thrown to your bedroom floor.

"C'mon, sweet girl. Been without you for fucking years. You can give me one more. Just one more," he tells you, pumping his fingers into you deliriously, possessed by the squelching sound your slick and his digits emit.

It's been thirty five fucking minutes of Simon making you come on his tongue and his fingers and then his tongue again. He's currently on his second round of fingering the living breath out of you. You had forgotten how thick his fingers were, and now with those added years of use, more calluses and lines and wrinkles? You haven't been able to utter a full sentence in a good while.

"Holy..." Your head is thrown back onto the pillow, back arching as if you were in a porn video, thighs clamping down on his hand.

"That's my girl. There we go, there we go,” he mutters, in a trance by the sound of it and his lustful stare.

You have to push his hand away after almost a minute of him drawing out your orgasm by lazily continuing to pump his fingers into you, whining when it becomes too much.

“Insatiable fucker,” you mumble as you lay spent on top of the sheets, chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat on your skin.

And he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

Simon chuckles, that deep rumble that almost sounds like it scratches his insides in some way. A wet, shameless kiss is pressed to your thigh, before he stands up to his full length again. His poor knees must be aching after having been pressed into the floor for so long.

“Missed her. Can’t blame a bloke for wanting to spend time with his missus after such a long time, eh?” Simon teases, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“Just c’mere,” you sigh, smiling up at Simon again, the same way you did at 20. Or maybe not the exact same. Things have changed, you have changed. Simon has sure as hell changed. But it’s better. A deeper affection, a deeper understanding.

The blond giant climbs onto the bed, over you, hovering like a wolf ready to pounce yet a gentleness in his hold that draws away the sense of threat. His thumb cups your cheek, brushes over the skin under your eye. And then he kisses you, softly, something you didn’t he know he was capable of. Back then, it was always passion, urgency. Playful, desperate. This is longing.

You sigh against his lips, feeling his chapped skin and the stubble on his chin. It nearly brings tears to your eyes, the way you have this man over you again. It’s been so long and he’s dozens of pounds heavier with muscle, more tattoos on his skin and scars on his body. But he’s still Simon. And he’s yours.

“Condom? Please for the love of god tell me you have a condom,” he pleads, growls with need against the crook of your neck.

“In the drawer,” you giggle, stretching your arm out in its direction.

He wastes no time. His urgency makes him clumsy, makes you laugh even more, as he tries to tear the wrapper open with his teeth and fails. Gives you a warning glare that does no good job at hiding his fond amusement, while resorting to opening it with his hands like a normal person.

Simon’s hands close around the back of your thighs, pulling your legs up until they press against your stomach. His tip brushes against your wet folds, but his gaze is on your face.

“Ready for me, sweet girl?” he asks, the deep timber of his voice sending literal shivers through you.

You nod.

“Words.”

“Yes, Simon. Please. Wan’ you inside me,” you plead.

“Mhm, know you do, sweetheart.”

It’s all the warning you get before he grabs a hold of his cock, coating it in your slick, before guiding it towards your dripping hole. Your breath catches in your throat, a whine of discomfort coming from your lips as his thick girth presses into you inch by agonizing inch. And yet it’s so good. Fucking hell, you’ve missed it.

“Holy fuck, I forgot—“ you say, not needing to finish the sentence for him to know the sentiment. You forgot how big he was.

"God you're..." Simon growls, keeping still as he bottoms out, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching around his thick cock once again. "You feel even fucking better. How the fuck did I go without her all these years?"

Tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Don’t know if it’s from the sting, the longing, the pleasure. You’re still all pliant and sensitive from the multiple orgasms he drew out of your earlier.

Simon starts to move, rolling his hips slowly into you. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock sliding against your walls, drawing rumbles from his chest.

“Not gonna leave this pretty pussy again, no. ‘S all mine. Needa’ apologize for keeping her lonely for so many years,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The corners of your lips tug upwards.

“Simon,” you whisper, hands entangled into his hair. He tilts his head upwards, looking up at your face. “Fuck me.”

A pleased smirk grows on his face, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so, huh?” he asks, squeezing your thigh, before snapping his hips into yours.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your pathetic bed creaks as Simon bullies his cock into you, the filthy sound of your slick being pushed inside of you filling the room along with the grunts and whines from your mouths.

It’s like a switch turned on in his head when you told him to fuck you, because it’s nearly animalistic. There’s no class or precision in his sloppy thrusts, just desperation.

“Fuck, so sorry, love, but I’m gonna come,” Simon tells you, clenching his jaw tightly with restraint. His large fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he holds them up, his heavy weight flush against you to keep you in a mating press. Despite his words, there’s no shame in them. Just an apology. He wishes he could savor this, but it’s futile. His cock wants something else.

“It’s…it’s okay,” you manage to get out between his thrusts, a smile on your face while his movements grow increasingly sloppy and hurried. “Come for me, baby. It’s okay.”

“So fucking perfect,” he growls, while his thumb finds its way to rub tight circles on your clit. Damn it if he doesn’t make you come one more time. He needs to feel you clenching down on his cock like that. “Gonna make you come again, baby, I promise.”

Your hands paw at his broad back, digging into the chiseled muscles while your thighs wrap around him, bringing him in deeper.

It’s with his face buried into the crook of your neck that he comes with a snarl, heavy breaths likened to the ones belonging to a beast blown right into your ear. Despite his movements stilling, his softening length remains inside of you while his fingers flicker your nub deliriously.

“Uh-huh, I see you, I see you.” He grins, taking note of the bucking of your hips, the way your thighs attempt to press together as they squeeze around his waist.

“Simon,” you whimper, and that’s all it takes for him to press down a little harder, do it a little faster. You let go, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.

“There it is. Look so beautiful when you come on my cock,” he tells you, and you swear you feel him harden again inside of you.

But when you come down from the high, laying there spent and panting, he pulls out so gently. Presses a kiss to the swell of your neck before climbing off the bed and discarding the condom in the bathroom.

“Simon, can you get me a towel?” you ask tiredly, watching his naked figure through the open door.

“Was already on it,” he tells you, stretching his arm out through the spring with the towel in hand, drawing a chuckle from your lips. “Have to take care of my woman. Can’t leave her all messy from taking my cock like the sweet girl she is.”

“You’re so crude,” you say through giggles, Simon walking back into your bedroom.

“Only around you, love,” he answers, kneeling on the bed to dry you off.

“That’s a lie. A big fat lie.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The soft fabric drags against your skin, soaking up the trails of your wetness coating your inner thighs and your folds. So meticulous, careful with each movement. Neat-freak.

“I love you.”

His head tilts up, brown eyes keeping you still under his gaze. And then he smiles. Skin by his eyes crinkling, white teeth showcased, towel discarded onto the floor. He covers your body with his, arms sneaking around your waist to roll you on top of him.

“I love you, sweet girl. ‘S probably gonna be the death of me, but like hell if I’m gonna do anything else than love you,” he whispers, dragging the duvet over your bodies.

Your body goes soft, pliant, in his hold. Comfortable silence fills the non-existing space between you, his breathing the only thing you can hear. Your eyes almost shutter closed when Simon speaks up again.

"I am so fucking you in my office on Monday," Simon tells you, chin on top of your head, your cheek on his chest. You can't see his face, but you know there's a boyish grin on his lips.

You just chuckle tiredly.

"Mr. Price would literally kill the both of us if he found out."

"Tough luck, love. I'm having you on my desk. End of discussion," he teases, squeezing your hip gently.

"You're insatiable."

"And you're beautiful. And sexy, and gorgeous, and entirely fucking mine," he whispers, growls, into your ear. "So we're christening my office on Monday, yeah?"

"You're taking the blame if Price walks in."

"Gladly. By Monday afternoon, nobody in our office will have any doubts about who I belong to."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Future Mr. Y/l/n Riley. You better fucking believe,” he says. “Just gonna get Shepherd fired and gauge his eyes out first.”

“Simon.”

“Yes. Nobody fucks with my woman.”

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#cod fanfic #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #back to december

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