#so i do. he asks if anything was off on the paperwork. i said no.

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k

a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here

── .✦

“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 

“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 

He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 

You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 

The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 

“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 

The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 

Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 

She shrugs, “Need a snack.”

Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 

“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 

“Candy?”

“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”

She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 

Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 

And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 

You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 

Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 

You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 

“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 

Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 

“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 

“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 

A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 

Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”

She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 

When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 

“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 

“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 

It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 

Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 

Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 

You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 

“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 

Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 

“You want to?” He asks.

She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 

“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 

“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 

Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 

You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.

He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 

Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 

“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  

And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 

Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 

“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 

She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”

You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 

She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 

“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 

She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  

“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 

She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 

“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 

“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 

“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 

She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 

“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 

“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 

She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 

“Why only sometimes?” 

She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 

“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 

Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 

You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 

“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  

“No? Why’s that?” 

“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 

“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 

Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.

“Why not?”

“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 

“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 

“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.

You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 

Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 

You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  

“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 

“I’m coloring my family.” 

“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 

“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 

“What? Why’s that silly?” 

She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 

“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 

“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”

“What! Why does he think that?” 

Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 

“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”

She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 

“It is! You can’t tell?” 

She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 

You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”

Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 

“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”

“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.

The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 

“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”

“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 

She bobs her head animatedly. 

“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 

“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 

“Well, does she live with you?”

Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”

“She sort of lives with you?”

“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 

“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”

“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 

Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 

“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 

“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 

“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 

“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 

“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  

“White!” 

“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 

“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 

You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 

“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”

“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 

“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 

You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 

Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 

“Your dad is very right about that.” 

She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”

“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 

And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 

The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  

“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 

Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 

Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 

“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”

She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 

Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 

“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 

“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 

He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 

She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 

His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”

Penelope huffs. 

“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 

She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 

If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 

“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 

“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 

You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”

Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 

The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 

She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 

Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 

A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”

“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 

Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 

“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 

“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 

You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”

“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”

“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.

“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.

She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 

“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 

Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 

“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 

Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”

Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”

“Thank you for helping me clean!”

Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 

His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”

She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”

“A million? Surely not.” 

“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 

His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 

You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”

A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 

Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 

You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”

“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 

“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 

“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 

You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 

“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 

Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”

“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 

“I can! I did at school!”

“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 

Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 

“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 

“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 

“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 

Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 

You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 

“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 

“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 

“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 

She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 

“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 

“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.

You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 

“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”

“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  

Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 

She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 

Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 

He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 

She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”

“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  

He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”

“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 

“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 

“Better help her look then.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 

“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”

“Well, maybe next time.” 

You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 

You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 

“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 

“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  

“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 

“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”

“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 

“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 

He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 

“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 

“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 

You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 

“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 

A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n - part.idk

Warnings: Smut, 18+, fingering, handjob (kinda), swearing, degradation

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

🎀

A/N - coz y’all seemed to like this, I’ve decided to continue it. 

Lando seemed to have a remarkable way of putting himself down, even if he had achieved the best result humanly possible. Such as when he secured pole position yesterday and he still looked downcast. 

Somehow, neither of you had said anything about the little…sexual escapade the pair of you had gotten up to recently, and you instead continued to work not all and freely. “Lando, I’ve got the paperwork for the team meeting after the race,” you said, handing him a stack of paper. 

“Cheers,” he muttered, taking them and dumping them on the side. It frustrated you how careless Lando could be, but after all, you weren’t here to control him. Just to manage his stuff. And yet, as you watched the race unfold, with the mass of team orders and the fuck off the pit strategy, you were almost horrified. 

The way the tea, guilt-tripped Lando and how pissed he looked as he stepped out the car, congratulating Lando with a half-hearted smile. You half-expected Lando to…take his anger out on something. Rather, someone. 

You. But…he didn’t. Instead, he just walked past you, going to read the papers you’d given him earlier. But it didn’t take a whole ass genius to figure out what he wanted. He’d initiated almost all of the occurrences between the pair of you. 

Maybe….maybe he wanted you to initiate it. You stood outside his door for a solid five minutes, rebating with yourself whether this was a good idea or not. Fuck it, who cared? “Lando,” you said, walking into the room as he made a noise, but said nothing. 

You huffed, a little annoyed he didn’t even look up, as you took the paper from his hands, making him finally look up. “You’re angry,” you said, seeing how pissed off he looked, both at you taking the paper, but mainly the race. 

“Media is in an hour,” you said. God, how the fuck were you supposed to initiate it? “You’re so shit at everything you do,” Lando said, rolling his eyes as your cheeks turned a light pink hue, “can’t even initiate sex, can you?”. Just hearing him say the word ‘sex’ sent a shiver through your spine. 

“Need help for everything, don’t you?” he said, pulling your wrist to pull you onto his lap. “Pathetic,” Lando rolled his eyes, pulling his belt down, grinding your hips down onto his growing bulge. 

“Lando,” you gasped as he ignored you, bunching your hair into his hand as he lifted your skirt, pulling his suit down, his cock springing between your thighs. Fuck he was huge. “D’you think I should’ve won, Y/N?” he asked, eyes fixed deeply on yours. 

Fuck, he was putting you on the spot. “I…you should’ve won,” you said, as he cupped your hand in his bigger one, bringing to round his throbbing member. “How long hybrid you wanted this?” Lando asked, bringing his lips to suck on your neck. 

“Since….since I met you,” you said quietly as he smirked, his hand round yours. “Go on,” Lando encouraged you, holding your hand as he pumped himself, eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck,” he hissed, “good girl,”. The nickname itself was enough  to send shivers down your spine, as he moved you to lay on your back. 

“Always wear such small clothes,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your skirt over your ass, pulling your legs over his shoulders. “Lando,” you started, not even knowing what you were gonna say as he shushed you with a small smack on your thigh. 

He kept your hand wrapped round his throbbing member, his fingers trailing up and down your sensitive, moist folds. Your hand moved in rhythmic twists up and down his member. “God, look at you,” Lando said, more to himself than you as he stared between your legs. 

“Keep going, yeah?” Lando ebbed you on, moving both of your hands onto his cock, your thumb teasing at his tip as he held you on his lap, inching his finger into your core. With the other hand, he moved his fingers to slide of your clit, gliding through your heat. 

“Fuck, Lando,” you gasped as he pumped his finger slowly inside of you, bringing his other hand to spread the juices he’d collected across his own dick, as a sort of lube. “Couldn’t even manage to initiate this yourself, could you?” he scoffed.

“All you had to do was ask,” Lando sighed, his voice full of mocking as he curled his finger against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck Lando,” you gasped, hand instinctively squeezing tighter round his member. 

You could practically feel how Lando breath hitched as he pulled his hand away from between your legs, pushing you on your back on the massage bed. “An hour before media, you said?” Lando raised a brow, “how many times can you cum in an hour?”. 

Lando clamped his hand down on your mouth to stop any moans leaving you, as he ran the head of his cock over your entrance, before sliding in gently. “So fucking tight, aren’t you?” Lando gasped, one hand sliding into your hair, the other holding your stomach flat down. 

“Lando,” you gasped, voice muffled by his hand as he slowly pulled all the way out, running his throbbing head over your clit once more, collection yout warm juices across his length, before sliding back in. 

You’d barely even had him inside of you, and the room almost smelled like sex, your small white shirt clinging to your chest and arms as Lando worked on removing it, pushing his cock back into you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips slowly going from rocking into full

-on snapping against yours, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing as he fucked you. He still had one hand on your mouth, the other throwing your shirt off, moving to cup yout tit through your bra. 

You could tell Lando liked more fonts that just his dick slamming into you, one hand on your breast and the other coming to press gently on your neck. The restriction on your airways wasn’t enough to truly hurt, but add to the pleasure. 

It was like some sort of way Lando could show you who was in  control,mas if you couldn’t even already tell with the way he was drilling into you. The feeling of his cock punching in and out of you was heavenly, you felt like you’d pass out from just the feeling of his member deep inside of you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he said one hand running your hair, tugging gently to bring your head down enough for his lips to crash against his. “Lookin’ so good f’me,” Lando groaned, his voice deep as he closed his eyes, head tilting back slightly. 

Lando!s hands trailed down your body, one resting tangled between your hair, the other threading round to lay on your neck. “Come on, Y/N,” Lando said, his voice deep and gravelly, “you can do one thing good f’me, and that’s that you can cum,” Lando groaned. 

“You showed me just how well you could not long ago, baby,” he said, giving your jaw a quick kiss, before he dropped his lips to your neck, taking the supple skin between bis teeth, nipping at your sensitive skin as a small purple bruise appeared.

“Should just hire you for sex, shouldn’t I?” he asked. There was so,eating about the bitter degradation that did somehow build up pleasure in you, but you were half-hoping maybe he could be a little easier on you. 

After all, you weren’t as incompetent as he made out, in fact, nowhere near as much. “Lando,” you gasped, eyes going a little red from the tears of how hard his cock was slamming into you, his hips angled so the head of his member hit your g-spot perfectly. 

In your mind, be looked like a damn angel, his abs glinting with a thin layer of sweat, but in his mind? All he could see was you. He didn’t know why he insisted on being such a dick to you, but it was almost…attractive, seeing you upset. In some odd way. 

You could feel your body shoot into tiny spasms as your orgasm flooded through, your pussy clenching round Lando as he groaned, holding you down a little as he kissed and nipped at your neck gently.

“One more f’me,” he said, not leaving any room for question as he rolled his hips a few times, pumping in and out of you before he resumed his rapid movements. “Lando,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back slightly as his hips snapped into yours. 

You were sure Lando would be leaving bruises on your hips and thighs, your hair a mess beneath you. “I said…i did say h-how many times I can make you cum in an hour,” Lando said, looking to the clock on the wall. 

“One more, yeah?” Lando said, his words almost encouraging as he slowed down the pace of his snapping hips, now gently rocking in and out of you. “You’re such a pretty girl, Y/N,” his voice was no longer rough and commanding. 

Now…soft? This was unlike Lando. But you didn’t hate it. It was nice, having someone treat you well. You opened your mouth to say something, no words coming out as Lando rubbed soothing circles along your hips. 

“That’s it,” he said softly, “cum f’me, and we’ll go do media and I’ll clean you up after, okay?”. Your second orgasm flooded through as Lando pushed into you, once, twice, before he slid himself out, cum shooting in thick hot ropes on your abdomen. 

“Just a bit of media left,” he said, a warm smile on his face as he gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Whether Lando wanted to be mean to you right now or not, he didn’t, 

Because he could see how hard that had been, how much he had overstimulated and pushed you, whilst he had his thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit, and he knew you needed some aftercare. 

[neonqueerautumn]

Personal Danni Tag Rant.

If you see this cover thine eyes.

[jayybugg]

nurse

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.

Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.

Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.

Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.

So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.

“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”

There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”

Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.

Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.

First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.

Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.

“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”

“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.

“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”

“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.

“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”

“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”

“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.

“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.

“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.

Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.

“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”

With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”

Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.

You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.

“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.

“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.

“I know.”

“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”

There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.

“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”

Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.

“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”

“No, I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”

“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.

“But-”

Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.

“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.

“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”

“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”

You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.

“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.

“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”

“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.

“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.

Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.

When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.

“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”

“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.

“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”

“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.

“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.

Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.

When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.

You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.

You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.

“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”

“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”

Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.

“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.

That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.

However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.

It felt familiar.

Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.

“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.

“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.

“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.

Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.

“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.

“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.

You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”

“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.

You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.

4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”

Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”

“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.

“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”

Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.

You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.

You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.

You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.

“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”

You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”

Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.

“Give me a check-up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.

“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”

“I do but-”

“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.

You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”

Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.

It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.

“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.

“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.

Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”

“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.

“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.

Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”

“Ghost....”

“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”

“How I need to ruin you.”

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”

“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”

You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”

Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.

A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.

“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.

You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”

You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”

“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.

He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.

“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.

Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”

Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.

He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.

Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.

Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.

“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”

Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.

“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.

“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.

“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.

“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.

“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.

Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.

“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.

“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”

“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.

“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”

“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.

“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”

Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”

Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.

“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”

“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.

“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”

Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.

Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.

[headkiss]

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

༄

Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

-

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

-

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

-

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

-

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

-

+1

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

[greg-montgomery]

the latest hotch x sunshine reader fic?

u think u ate with that?

no.

U DEVOUREDDDDDD. GRRRRRRRRRRR

part 2 now mama i love u so much

bestieee thank you omg!!!! <3 i hope you like part 2!!

part 1

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Spencer took a deep breath staring at his desk. On any other day it would be due to the amount of paperwork waiting for him, but this time it was a cup of his favorite coffee order, a muffin, and a chocolate croissant, all sitting right on top of the report he was working on.

He wasn’t ungrateful for the treats, but he would rather enjoy them if they weren’t accompanied by three pairs of wide eyes looking at him, while searching for answers in return.

Emily threw her head back dramatically. “Come on, give us something.”

“They’re on a date right now, aren’t they? That’s why he left early. I know you know,” Penelope said. “I know you do. Rossi knows too, but he won’t say anything.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “Every time we ask he says nothing and just…smirks at us.”

“Please, you’re our last hope.”

Spencer took a bite of his muffin and smirked.

“You’re even worse than him,” Emily said and pointed at him.

“Come on, girls. Let’s go hack Hotch’s phone.”

“No, wait!”

--

Was it silly to start planning your wedding on a first date?

Maybe it was; you didn’t care. Because there was no way Aaron was not your future husband.

He did everything perfectly: he picked you up from your house, got you flowers, did not let you touch a door handle, paid for your dinner date, and let you play your music during the car ride.

Aaron also smiled a lot and the sight of it made you melt into your seat. It wasn’t often that a man gave you butterflies by just one look or with the sound of his laughter.

“What are you in the mood for now?”

The last thing you wanted was for the date to end, so instead of suggesting you walk back to his car you made a different offer.

“Let’s get ice cream!”

He chuckled, but you could already tell he would not say no to you. “Okay.”

You were walking side by side and even though you were already falling in love with his warm voice it was hard to pay attention to his words. Your mind was too occupied thinking about his arm swinging next to yours and how bad you wanted to hold hands with him.

Did he want it too? Would he think it’s childish to hold hands?

What if you just…did it?

Life’s too short, you thought and grabbed his hand.

Yes, you had not been paying attention to what he'd been saying but you did notice how he stopped mid-sentence when your hands touched. Was he mad?

Your heart was jumping against your chest, afraid you did something stupid. Aaron was quick to ease your anxiety, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently your hand.

He wanted this too.

He cleared his throat. “So it’s um…a good chance to…”

With the side of your eye, you caught him turning his head to stare at you. You hadn’t wiped the grin off your face from the sudden hand holding yet, and he saw it.

His dimples made an appearance, and as your grin got bigger you noticed he blushed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you giggled.

The sound of Aaron’s phone ringing interrupted your moment.

“Sorry, I have to get this,” he said.

You, of course, didn’t mind. Even though he hadn’t said so himself, you knew he had left right on time – early in Hotch’s terms - from work just for your date. Perks of being best friends with your date’s subordinate was getting to have this kind of inside information.

“Hotchner,” he said sternly.

You stayed quiet.

“What? I didn’t authorize this.”

Oh.

“No. And I trust this won’t happen again.”

Oh…Maybe you liked this side of him a little bit more than you should.

“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. “I’m sorry about that.”

I’m not.

“No, it’s okay! It’s fascinating observing you being a boss.”

“You like observing people?”

“Why, are you interested in hiring me?” you teased.

“Oh, I would never.”

“Why not?” you asked, acting offended.

“I would not be able to focus on a case with you around.”

You took advantage of the fact you were on a sidewalk and stopped walking, turning your body to face him. “And why is that?”

Aaron moved closer and dropped your hand only to cup the side of your head. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek and his eyes on yours made you feel dizzy.

“Because you take my breath away.”

And with his next move he took yours. Maybe you’d actually faint if he didn’t pull you in and place his lips on yours.

Your hands moved to his tie with the intention of pulling him even closer to your body. His kiss was heavenly and you really wouldn’t mind if you were to stay like that forever.

Yeah…there was no way Aaron Hotchner was not your future husband.

[planetaryupscaled]

Disenchanted 3: Public Indecency

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 3k, blackmail, cheating, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Ever since the day at the carnival I sensed a change in Karina. It was almost as if her last few emotional links to Jaewook had finally fractured and torn. The consequence to this was our relationship, if you could call it that became stronger.

Karina was less concerned about being married, her go to line anytime we were about to part take in anything remotely physical. It got to the point that she removed her wedding ring every time we indulged ourselves in satisfying our desires for one another. Jaewook on the other hand began falling deeper and deeper into a downward spiral, we met at least once a week to talk through his issues with Karina. Every time his solutions for fixing his marriage became more and more desperate.

“I don’t know how long we can go on like this.” Jaewook said, as we sat at a random bar off the side of the highway.

“It feels like our marriage has turned into a set of a show, like it’s all smiles and waves for the public, but in private, we go our separate ways.” Jaewook followed up.

I sat back, knocking down a shot of whisky, placing my hands on his shoulders.

“Give her more time, it must be tough for both of you.” I replied.

Jaewook shrugged his shoulders, a solitary tear falling down his cheeks.

“We haven’t had sex in weeks, her answers are cold, I dunno how I can fix this...what do I do?” He asked, eyes pleading for an answer.

Hearing this, jabbed sharply at my conscience as it was only a few hours ago that Karina and I had fucked in her car after she dropped the kids off to school. I still had her peach-colored lipstick marks smeared along the length of my cock after sucked me to completion, taking my pent up load down her married throat. It was becoming her thing, swallowing was once a taboo, a no no, but ever since we got together, having me finish in her mouth had always hit the right spot. It gave me a sense of pride, knowing she only swallowed me, only my load satiated her hunger. Jaewook and I polished off another few rounds before I called him a cab to take him home. The situation was getting untenable in the Lee household, only pushing Karina further into my arms, it was the perfect situation form me yet little did I know, things were going to get much more complicated.

—

“Hey, so I had a chat with corporate, and they have green us the green light to roll some sample products out at the local businesses.” Nayoung said, handing me the paperwork granting us more budget for the final push marketing our new lines.

“Hmmm that is a great news...I was thinking, maybe we could do something along the lines of nature, maybe draw upon the ecological and environmentally friendly products we have.” I replied.

“I will run it past the team and get back to you.” Nayoung said with a smile before we heard a knock at the door.

It was Karina, her hair wrapped neatly in a bun, wearing a striking pink number, accentuating her flawless toned legs.

“Morning team.” She said smiling.

“Just spoke to Yeonjun outside, good work on securing more funds for our new lines. I was thinking perhaps, marketing some at the local aquarium, drawing upon our environmental packaging and natural ingredients. They have a save the ocean exhibit on at the moment.” Karina said.

Nayoung looked at me with a smile.

“Looks like you have got your answer Boss.” Nayoung said.

Karina looked at me a little perplexed.

“I was just saying we should link our products up with our local businesses, hammering down on our eco-friendly appeal.” I said smiling.

“Great minds.” Replied Karina, laughing.

“Great...team day it is.” I said.

“Gather the troops, maybe we can all go down there, perhaps get some contacts, throw some ideas around.” I replied.

“You free Karina? You can be our secret weapon in getting them to potentially work with us.” I said.

“Are you planning in using me to further your professional career.” She replied smirking.

“You hit the nail right on the head.” I replied, grabbing my coat and walking towards her.

Nayoung was outside with Sohye and Yeonjun getting ready to go. I took the opportunity to peck Karina on the lips quickly, getting another hit of her womanly scent.

“Minho! People...” She startled.

“Might see...” I finished, kissing her again causing Karina to break out in a smile.

“Cmon, let’s go.” I said, opening the door and leading us out.

The local aquarium was only ten minutes away. The entire walk, Sohye and Nayoung updated Karina on various ideas they had on ways to spread our new lines on social media. I caught Yeonjun checking Karina out on a number of occasions, his eyes flickering towards her long slender legs as we reached our destination. I couldn’t blame him she was a very attractive woman. Nevertheless, I felt myself grow ever more protective over her, as I slowly began to realize, what we had was more than just the physical, I was actually falling for her completely.

My musings of how deep my relationship with Karina was, were quickly interrupted by the murmuring of the public around us. She had been recognized and approached by a number of fans asking for her autograph and picture. Karina dealt with it like a pro, smiling and stopping for photos while I flagged the manager. We spoke for a few moments regarding our impromptu visit and plans we had. The brief chat actually going better than I expected as he invited Karina and I to discuss our ideas in more detail. Flagging down Nayoung, I gave her the company card and told her to take the team out for lunch while Karina and I talked to the manager of the aquarium for a bit longer. He seemed, not surprisingly infatuated with Karina’s beauty, nodding and agreeing with everything she said. It took around fifteen minutes flat to organize a small event in the early part of next week to coincide with the finale of their save the Oceans exhibit.

“And that is why I brought you...” I said, whispering in Karina’s ear.

She smiled, slapping me on the arm as we finished up the meeting.

“Do you guys want me to show you around, we have special piece we are doing on Sea Turtles at the moment, not available for the public yet.��� The manager asked hopefully.

Karina paused, looking at me.

“Sure.” I said, seeing Karina glare her eyes at me.

“Was this not meant to be a team day?” Karina said, whispering in my ear.

“Nayoung can look after them, besides, I told them to go around and get some lunch, we can all meet up after.” I replied, as we followed the manager around to the back of the complex.

The rumble of the public gradually dissipated to a low murmur as we made our way into a large open space, surrounded my glass screens, behind which was an endless volume of blue. Giant sea turtles floated gently by, as if waving to us as they circled upwards to the surface flanked by numerous colorful fish zipping effortlessly in and out of the artificial coral reefs.

“This is it!” The manager said proudly.

His eyes still glued to Karina as she stared at the beautiful creatures swimming in the deep.

“So when is this exhibit open?” Karina asked in wonder.

“About two weeks, you guys are the first to see it.” He said smiling.

I could see his eyes travel the length of her body the moment she turned around before his visual perversions were disrupted by a loud bang. It came from the main area down the hallway, with some load shouts. It sounded like there was a bit of a scuffle going down from the sounds of the screaming.

“Shit...what now?” The manager said, in frustration.

“Guys...have a look around and come back the way we came...my team will be in contact with you later this week to tidy up the details.” He said.

“It was nice to meet you...both of you.” He followed up, his face showing disappointment at having to leave the company of the once famous Idol.

We watched him leave before sighing in relief.

“He had such the hots for you Karina!” I said chuckling.

“I could feel his eyes on me every time I turned around...it felt- ughh a little creepy.” She said with a frown.

“Why...does it make you jealous when other guys check me out?” Karina asked closing the gap, gently smiling.

“A little...” I replied, kissing her lips.

“That is kinda cute.” She said kissing me back.

“I know right, it’s a problem the jealousy that is, it causes this really bad pent up tension you know.” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh...really.” She said raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t- don’t even say it mister.” Karina said, placing her fingers on my lips.

I looked at her suggestively, wrapping my hands around her waist as I eased her gently onto the glass of the aquarium.

“Minho...seriously...people...might...uhm...see...ughh...us.” She replied, her voice fading into light moans as my hands caressed her tight body.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t secretly like it...” I replied, kissing her down her body as my hands drifted up her dress.

“I do...ughh but- ohh god...that feels- good.” She replied, her pussy creaming in my palm.

“Just a quick...pump and dump.” I said with a smirk.

“A what...? who do you think you are talking to?” Karina said going bright red.

I kissed her full lips, biting down on her lower lip as I continued feeling her up under her dress.

“Shit...seriously- we...ughhh...might...unhh...get...caught...” Karina moaned.

My hand continuing to squeeze and massage her rapidly dampening pussy, causing her to adjust her stance to allow me better access to her burning sex.

“Maybe- ughh…maybe- a quick...pump.” She whispered breathlessly smacking my arm smirking, as she eased her legs open for me, the pleasure emanating from her slit causing a long groan to leave her lips.

Her purring was getting louder as I pierced her wet folds with my fingers, stroking her deep inside her womanly cavern. She ran her fingers through my hair, gripping my head tightly as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders, pushing her standing leg onto her tip toes. My tongue buried into the far reach depths of her married cunt as she flexed her walls around my face, creaming profusely over my mouth.

“Minho- quick…I need you…inside me...” Karina moaned impatiently, her need to be filled spilling out at the surface, rocking her head back and shutting her eyes.

I gave her folds one long lick, the drool from her pussy now forming thick strands on my lips as I hoovered up her sex for the final time.

“I thought...you were afraid of getting caught?” I said, raising my eyebrows as I slipped my drenched fingers from her glistening slit.

“Ughhh- fuck...I still…am, ohh…i can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me...” Karina replied, her eyes now filling with lust.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, petting her throbbing clit with my lips.

“Don’t you dare!” Karina, replied gritting her teeth and pulling me up to my feet.

“You want it?” I asked, taking her slippery tongue into my mouth and sucking down hard.

I could feel the vibrations of Karina groaning into my mouth, spreading her legs for me as I hiked up her dress.

“I love it...” She replied, kissing me back and wrapping her left leg around my waist.

Her hands were searching down my torso, fumbling for my zipper as we kissed deeply, our tongues clashing, exchanging spit as she finally set me free. My cock springing out from my trousers, the top of my shaft rubbing tantalizingly along the bottom of her sex. I could feel the warmth of her slit through her now soaked underwear, a mixture of her sensual cream and my spit coating my length as I rubbed up against her.

“Put it in...” Karina whispered, rolling her head into my hands as I supported her upper back in my right arm.

It was a moment of raw passion as we locked eyes, her mouth agape as I thrust my hips forward, piercing her wet folds with my cock. There was no time to take her underwear off I just wanted to be in her, as deep and as hard as I could, fucking my length up to the hilt till I bottomed out inside her precious pussy. Karina was slick, her hands clawing at my back as we found our rhythm, each pump of my dick bringing her further off the ground as her standing leg struggled to reach the floor.

“Karina...you feel so fucking good...” I moaned into her hear.

“Ughhh- keep going...just...like- that.” She replied, eyes shut tight as I nailed her against the glass.

All you could hear each time I penetrated her married cunt were the slaps of our flesh and a deep thud of her rear slamming hard against the aquarium wall. The coolness of the glass rubbing on her back side as I continuously stuffed her with my meat, stretching her tight pussy with my girth as my tip smashed up on her cervix, deep within her womb.

Karina scratched at my back, her breath now ragged as she was losing control, I could feel the walls of her cunt gradually intensify its grip on my straining cock as I pierced her slick folds. The cream from her cunt now dripping down my thighs as I fucked her full of my cock in the dimly lit aquarium.

“Fuckk...deeper- fuck...me...deeper...” Karina whispered hurriedly in my ear.

She was close, her body was tensing as I cradled both arms around her upper back, protecting the back of her head from what was about to happen.

“You want it deep baby?” I asked, my eyes burning with desire.

She nodded, biting her lip as her orgasm began to build.

“Hold on...” I said, kissing her deeply one more time as the brunette braced her core.

Karina knew what was coming, opening her thighs wider for me to allow for my deeper strokes. Gripping the back of her head I mercilessly pumped my dick deep inside her cunt, assaulting her married pussy with my invading cock as I stuffed her wanting womb with my meat.

“ughh...anhh...fuckk...” Karina screamed, her wails reverberating off the glass as I pummeled her cunt for all I was worth.

“Karina...I can’t hold on much...much longer...” I said, my breath now haggard as I continued to pump her.

“Fuck...unghh- inside...cum…inside me.” Karina moaned, now finding it hard to catch her breath as I began to creampied her inside.

It was like breaking a dam, as a river of warm sticky spunk flowed from my tip, seeding Karina’s married pussy. Spurt after spurt coated her pink womb as her cunt walls sucked on my shaft like a hoover, her thighs shaking as we climaxed simultaneously. Holding me close in her grasp, she swayed her hips forward, fucking more of my spasming cock into her tight cavern, milking my meat to completion as I pumped her full of my pent up sperm. Our sweaty bodies slowed in tempo, my twitching dick still buried inside her as I lowered her legs back onto the floor, my warm sperm leaking from her slit and trickling down her toned thighs as we kissed deeply, my hips thrusting one last time to make sure she took all my load inside her womb.

In the thralls of passion, I thought I spotted another person’s reflection in the glass, turning around in a shock but to no avail.

“What...what’s the matter?” Karina asked breathlessly.

She continued to rock her hips, not letting me disengage as the she reveled in the feeling of my seed swimming around inside her.

“Nothing...thought I saw something that’s all.” I replied, still gathering my thoughts.

“I feel so full...you came a lot” she said smirking as I slipped my member from her depths.

A stream of my cum came pouring out, mixed with her womanly grool and cream. The milky substance leaving a trail of destruction down her legs as the rest splashed on the concrete floor.

“You are so bad...” She smiled seductively, hitting my arm.

She was right, we were a very risky pair indeed, seeking out dangerous situations to satisfy our darkest desires.

“Hey, are you guys still here?” The manager’s voice called out from behind us.

Startled, I quickly buttoned my cock back into my trousers, handing Karina a tissue to wipe up the mess I made down her inner legs. Slightly red faced I turned around waving to him as I approached.

“Lovely turtles.” I said, motioning to the deep blue.

Karina joining me by my side, like nothing happened smiled and thanked the man for showing us around. It seemed to work as he flushed red showing us back to the entrance. She still had a smudge of my spunk on her inner leg which she quickly dispatched before the manager noticed, taking it between her pink lips and swallowing it down discretely.

“Your friends have been waiting a while, they are just outside.” He said pointing to the door.

We shook hands once more and departed, meeting the team outside.

“Where were you guys?” Nayoung asked.

“Eh the manager was a bit of a fan, he insisted in showing us around the new exhibit, we figured it was the least we could do for allowing us to market some of our products here.” Karina replied smiling.

Nayoung smiled giving me a small post it.

“Hajoon our director was here, he left with Yeonjun and went back to the office, he says he wants to discuss something with you guys.” Nayoung said slightly concerned.

“Is everything ok?” She asked.

“I assume its to update him on our progress, but why did Yeonjun go?” I asked.

“Dunno Boss, they were talking about a proposal of some sort.” Nayoung said shrugging her shoulders.

Karina looked at me slightly confused as we made our way back to work. Back inside, Karina went ahead to Hajoon’s office while I fixed my sweaty appearance, washing my face with cold water to gather my thoughts. When I knocked on the director’s door and entered, Karina was already sitting down, her expression looked worried for some reason.

“Please, sit Minho.” Hajoon said, pointing at the chair next to Karina.

Yeonjun was sitting on the side his face slightly piqued at my entrance, taking a seat on the cool leather chair.

Hajoon sighed, pushing out a phone on the table.

“It has come to my attention, that a senior manager and an important member of the board have been...partaking in less than professional activities.” He said.

I gulped hard, sweat now forming on my brow as he continued to speak ushering Yeonjun over to us. Yeonjun air played the phone to the tv monitor on the wall, pressing play. It was hard to make out at first, but when the video came into focus there was no denying what we were watching. It was Karina and I, fucking in the aquarium, you could clearly see her face resting on my shoulder, moaning into my neck as I was thrusting my cock deep inside her.

Hajoon’s face was oddly stoic, like we were in a business deal as he wrapped his fingers.

“You both know what this means, if this was to get out.” He said.

“That sounds like a threat...” I replied, my anger building as I turned my attention to Yeonjun.

“Seriously, leverage?” I said to Yeonjun, who remained looking at the floor.

“Don’t blame him, he was in the right to come to me.” Hajoon said.

Karina was sitting quietly next to me, her hands pressed together as we both listened to how our fates would unravel.

“So, what now?” I asked curtly.

“I can make this go away, delete this video and we can all go about our lives.” Hajoon replied, his voice taking on a sinister tone.

“What’s the catch...?” I asked.

“The catch is… a night with me.” Karina replied, her face flushed in embarrassment.

“What? No, absolutely not.” I replied.

Hajoon smiled, silently surveying us both, he had us dead to rights as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

“As you both may know, I am stepping down soon, the rumors are true.” Hajoon said.

“Now, I like you, I really do Karina, you are hardworking and great for the company... you are also very beautiful.” He followed up.

“I was actually going to offer this in exchange for...your body, but Yeonjun with his evidence had made it too good not to accelerate.” Hajoon said calmly.

“When I retire, I will transfer my shares to you Karina, giving you 30% of the company...in return for a night with you.��� He said.

“As part of this deal, Yeonjun will also want a night with you, in return, he will delete the video once we finish… our transaction.” Hajoon said coldly.

I nearly punched both of them right there, before Karina grasped my hand.

“Don’t...” She said exasperated.

“I’ll do it... I’ll do it as long as you are there with me.” She said, a tear tricking down her face.

There was a deft silence in the room, I had no idea how to react to that before Hajoon spoke up.

“See, an amicable solution.” Hajoon said.

“After this Yeonjun, I am firing your ass.” I said, my voice laced in venom.

He shrugged his shoulders smirking.

“It’s totally worth it.” He said, pointing at the television as Karina and I fucked on screen.

“See you both soon...” Hajoon said, showing us the door, a wry smile spread on his wrinkly old face...

[mountainsandmayhem]

God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller

Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader

18+ only!!!

Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.

CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.

AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.

And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.

Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.

You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”

You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.

You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.

Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.

You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.

Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.

He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.

She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.

His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.

She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.

He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.

She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.

And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.

He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.

He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.

His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.

Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.

Yep, I’m going for it.

You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.

The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.

“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”

“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.

Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.

You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.

“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.

You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.

“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no

And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear

King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world”

Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.

“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.

You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.

You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.

“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”

Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.

“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.

He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”

You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.

“Joel -” you start.

“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.

“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.

“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.

“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.

You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.

“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”

Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”

“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.

He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”

“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.

“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.

“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.

“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.

“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.

“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”

“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”

Taglist

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

[reidmarieprentiss]

Stood Up & Home

Summary: Y/N plans an anniversary date for her and Spencer, he works through it, standing her up. Will they make it through this?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: fighting, arguing, being stood up, forgotten anniversary, mild panic attack, reminders of parents fighting, crying, self-doubt, not feeling good enough, insecurities

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: can be read alone but it is a blurb from Finding Home Again !!

hahaha sorry! our favorites have fights too :( but they love each other so much

main masterlist

The second Spencer walked through the door, he knew something was off. Y/N was sitting on the couch, still in the clothes she had put on for their date—a dress he hadn’t seen before, something stunning, clearly chosen for a special occasion. Her arms were crossed, and though she tried to keep her face neutral, there was no mistaking the tension in the air.

“Hey,” Spencer said cautiously, closing the door behind him. “I just got your text. Sorry, I got caught up with some paperwork. It’s been a long day.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She just kept staring straight ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line. Spencer paused, sensing the unease.

“Honey?” he tried again, stepping closer. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone clipped, her eyes still fixed on the TV even though it wasn’t playing anything.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You seem… upset.”

Y/N took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. She didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet. But Spencer wasn’t having it.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, crouching down in front of her, his hands on her knees. “You know what I do for a living, right? I know when you’re lying to me.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she tried to suppress the growing anger. “I’m not lying, Spencer.”

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at her. “Then why won’t you look at me? What’s going on?”

Y/N finally turned her head to face him, her eyes burning with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I had plans tonight,” she said quietly. “Plans that I made specifically for us.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What plans? You didn’t tell me we had anything tonight.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot what?” Spencer asked, still completely unaware.

“Our anniversary, Spencer,” she snapped, finally letting her emotions spill over. “I made reservations at this nice restaurant. I got dressed up, bought this new dress just for tonight, and I’ve been waiting here for hours. And you—” She stopped, her voice shaking. “You text me that you’re doing paperwork.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in shock, and he quickly pulled out his phone, scrolling through his calendar. “I thought… I thought it was next week,” he muttered, looking up at her, guilt flooding his face. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I really thought—”

“Next week?!” Y/N cut him off, standing up abruptly. “Spencer, how could you forget something like this? I’ve been planning this for weeks, and you didn’t even remember?”

“I swear, I didn’t mean to,” Spencer stammered, standing as well, his hands raised in defense. “I’ve just been so overwhelmed with work lately, and I… I just lost track of time. I thought it was next week.”

Y/N’s hands clenched at her sides, her chest tight with frustration. “Do you know how embarrassing it was? Sitting at the restaurant, waiting for you to show up, and then getting that text? I’ve never felt so stupid.”

Spencer stepped forward, his eyes filled with regret. “You’re not stupid. I’m the one who messed up. I should’ve known, I should’ve been paying more attention.”

Y/N shook her head, backing away. “Spence, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I’m too mad.”

“But—”

“Please,” she interrupted, her voice softer now, though still laced with hurt. “I just need some space.”

Spencer stood there, helpless, watching her retreat to their bedroom. The weight of his mistake hung heavy between them, and he knew that this wasn’t something a simple apology could fix.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N," he called after her, his voice barely above a whisper.

—

As Y/N sat alone in the bedroom, her emotions swirling in a chaotic storm, she couldn't help but feel the familiar sting of rejection creep in. Being stood up by her own fiancé—the man who was supposed to always be there for her—brought up old wounds she thought had since healed. 

Not being good enough… that was the thought echoing in her mind. Not good enough to be remembered. Not good enough to be thought of, to be prioritized, to be shown up for.

She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as the tears began to fall. She had been so excited for tonight, had put in so much effort to make it special. But instead, she was left feeling forgotten. Like she didn’t matter. Like she was invisible.

The hurt festered, and with it came doubt. Maybe she didn’t deserve love. Maybe it was all an illusion—a fantasy she’d been foolish enough to believe in. Love wasn’t real. Not the kind she dreamed of, anyway. 

The idea of retreating into herself felt easier than confronting the hurt. If she let herself grow distant, let herself become numb, maybe she wouldn’t have to feel this crushing disappointment again. Maybe she wouldn’t have to face the painful reality that even the person she loved most in the world could forget about her.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, staring blankly ahead. The weight of the moment felt too heavy, too suffocating. Y/N didn’t know how to pull herself out of it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

All the time spent telling herself she was enough, that she was worthy of love, suddenly felt like lies. Maybe love wasn’t real. Not for her. Maybe it was just a fleeting dream, something she could never hold onto.

 —

Y/N fell asleep that night before Spencer could come into the room, exhaustion from the emotional weight of the evening pulling her into unconsciousness. He sighed heavily when he walked in, the sight of her curled up, already asleep, reminding him of just how badly he had hurt her. Spencer stood at the door for a moment, guilt gnawing at him as he tried to figure out how to fix this, how to make things right again.

A plan slowly began to form in his mind—a do-over date. One that would make up for the disappointment, that would hopefully knock her socks off and make her smile the way he loved so much. But that would have to wait. For now, all he could do was climb into bed next to her and hope for the best. He slid under the covers cautiously, but her body shifted slightly, and despite everything, her sleeping form accepted his arms, pulling her close as if nothing had gone wrong. It gave him a little hope, though it also stung, knowing she was more forgiving in sleep than awake.

—

The next morning, Y/N woke with a brief moment of peace, where everything felt fine, as though the night before hadn’t happened. But as soon as she opened her eyes and felt the weight and stickiness of her forgotten makeup clinging to her skin, the emotions of the previous night came flooding back.

The hurt. The disappointment. The feeling of not being enough.

She slipped out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake Spencer, and made her way to the shower. She needed time to think, to wash away the makeup and the memories, to figure out what to do with all of the feelings swirling inside her. The warm water provided some comfort, but not enough to erase the heavy thoughts weighing her down.

—

Spencer woke up much less pleasantly. The absence of Y/N in the bed next to him and the late hour made his heart race as he scrambled to get dressed, realizing with a sinking feeling that she had left for work without waking him. That wasn’t like her, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

His day didn’t get any better from there. He arrived at the office late, still flustered and breathless as he stumbled into the conference room.

“Reid, you’re late,” Hotch said, not even bothering to look up from his papers.

Spencer tried to catch his breath. “I know, I’m sorry, my alarm didn’t go off.” It was only a partial lie. His alarm, his usual morning routine, was Y/N. She was the one who woke him, who got him moving in the mornings. But today, she had left extra early, avoiding him, and took his alarm with her.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Hotch said sternly, fixing him with a look.

Spencer nodded, regret heavy in his chest. Today was not off to a great start, and he knew there was a lot more work to do if he wanted to make things right with Y/N.

—

Y/N stewed all day long, her mind constantly drifting back to the argument from the night before. She sat at her desk, trying to focus on her work, but the heavy, almost suffocating emotions she was feeling made it nearly impossible to concentrate. She felt like she was wading through quicksand, trying to accomplish tasks, but every time she made a little progress, she was dragged back down by the weight of her thoughts.

She got enough done to get by, her inbox was cleared, and she responded to a few emails, but none of it felt satisfying. Nothing could distract her from the overwhelming emotions swirling inside her—hurt, anger, sadness, and something deeper that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was like a knot in her chest that refused to loosen, no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

And then came the shame. Y/N felt silly, letting something as small as a missed anniversary and an argument throw such a huge wrench into her life. She’d always prided herself on being strong, independent, and capable of handling whatever came her way. But this…this was different. The hurt she felt was real, and no amount of logic could untangle the mess in her head.

Yet, even as she chastised herself for feeling this way, she knew she had to remind herself of something important: her feelings mattered. They were valid, no matter how small or silly they seemed to her. The pain she felt, the disappointment and frustration—they were real, and they deserved to be acknowledged.

And more importantly, she needed to believe it too.

—

When Spencer arrived home that night, everything seemed oddly normal—eerily so. Y/N had made dinner, and she was sitting in front of the TV, her plate balanced on her lap as she ate. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of her, feeling the tension that still simmered between them.

"Hey, baby," he called out cautiously, testing the waters.

"Hi," she responded, not turning around to look at him. "Pasta’s on the stove, veggies are in the oven."

"Thank you," Spencer said, his heart lifting slightly. Maybe she just needed some time, maybe they were already past this. He smiled gratefully and set about fixing himself a plate, trying to convince himself that the worst was behind them.

They sat together, eating their dinner in front of the TV, making small talk about their days. The news played in the background, but neither was really paying attention. It wasn’t until Spencer casually mentioned Hotch chewing him out for being late that the atmosphere shifted.

"Why were you late?" Y/N asked, genuinely curious, unaware of how her actions that morning had contributed.

Spencer coughed, feeling awkward. He scratched his arm and shifted uncomfortably. "Well... usually you wake me up."

Y/N looked at him, confused. "Me? You don’t set an alarm?"

Spencer let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Have you ever heard an alarm go off?"

"Yeah, it wakes us both up," she replied, still not understanding.

"Right... and it’s on your phone," Spencer explained.

"Oh," Y/N pondered for a second, realization dawning on her. "Didn’t think about that. Sorry," she shrugged, dismissing it casually.

That casual response set off a spark of anger in Spencer. How could she not care? He’d been chewed out by Hotch, and she acted like it was no big deal. "I got in trouble with my boss, Y/N," he said, a bite of frustration slipping into his voice.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "I don’t see how that’s my fault."

"You took the alarm!" Spencer raised his voice, frustration boiling over.

Y/N stood up abruptly, putting distance between them. "You are a grown man, Spencer. You lived by yourself for years. You cannot hold me responsible for your lack of preparedness," she snapped, her voice trembling with anger.

Spencer stood as well, a sharp, almost cruel look in his eyes. "I’m sorry I forgot our anniversary, and I’m going to make it up to you. But you can’t just run away every time you get upset. It affects my life too!"

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, his words cutting her deeply. "You’re really throwing that in my face right now?" she choked, her voice full of hurt.

"If the shoe fits," Spencer bit out, anger seething beneath his words.

That was it. Y/N’s heart shattered at his cruel words, feeling once again like she wasn’t good enough. The insecurities she had tried so hard to suppress came flooding back. In a surge of emotion, she ripped the engagement ring off her finger and threw it at Spencer's chest before running to the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Spencer stood frozen, staring down at the ring that had fallen to the floor. A panic attack gripped him, his chest tightening as he struggled to breathe. His mind was racing, and all he could think about was losing her—the one person who made him feel safe, the one person he loved more than anything.

The sight of the ring on the floor reminded him too much of his parents’ arguments, the screaming, the feeling of helplessness. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn’t lose her.

"Y/N!" Spencer ran to the bedroom door, knocking frantically. "Please, let me in. Please! I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean it. I just need to hold you. Please… I can’t—just... don’t go. Please."

Inside, Y/N was crying into the pillows, her body wracked with sobs. She could hear the panic in his voice, and despite the anger and hurt, her heart ached for him. She knew this wasn’t how they should be, this wasn’t them.

After what felt like an eternity, she unlocked the door and opened it just a crack. Spencer practically stumbled inside, his face pale and his eyes red from holding back his own tears.

Y/N let him hold her, let him wrap his arms around her tightly as if she might disappear if he let go. He buried his face in her neck, shaking as he whispered his apologies over and over.

But even as he held her, Y/N knew they couldn’t just brush this under the rug. She let him hold her because she loved him, but she wasn’t going to let the argument end here. Not without addressing the hurt that had bubbled to the surface.

“We need to talk about this,” she said softly, her voice still thick with tears. "We can’t just… let this go." 

“I know,” Spencer whispered back, holding her even tighter. “We will. I promise.” 

But for now, they stayed like that—holding each other, letting their tears dry together, knowing that they had a lot of healing to do, but also knowing that they were willing to try.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[darnell-la]

Dark!young logan and female human reader as his teacher. It sets in earlier x men back then when logan was young, feral, and didnt realize fully about his mutation. He just knew that he sexually and emotionally attracted to his teacher since she's been so nice to him and protected him from the bullies in his school. He gets bullied bcs he's always alone and super silent in class.

note: needy, dom, and darksih Logan is what we need (irl).

———

“What’s wrong with you today? Need an animal to eat!?” One of the students said to Logan, making the class laugh. Logan was sitting on his desk, legs shaking and hands balled up, trying to control whatever feeling he was feeling right now.

“Hey!” Y/n turned around before slamming the chalk she was using, on her desk. “I don’t know which teacher at this school told you that it’s funny joking about other people’s powers — But I know it wasn’t me. Cut it out!” the young teacher demanded.

All of the kids were silent, never really hearing miss y/n raise her voice, but for the past week, she’s been getting tired of the jokes being said to Logan.

Logan was around the age of 30. He was a hot head and started most of his fights, but for a few days, he’s been weak and silent. Y/n wondered why, but maybe it’s best he didn’t lash out.

After y/n’s long day, she finally decided to pack up and leave her office to go to bed. Almost every week, a new mutant comes in, and she has to do the paperwork. She never complained because she loves helping her students. They deserve to be treated like humans.

As y/n walked past Logan’s room, he quickly leaned off of his bed and sniffed, smelling her like he hadn’t smelled before. Usually, the man only smelled her when she was close by, but as she walked up the stairs and got closer, he knew it was her. So sweet.

Logan slowly walked towards his door opening it and sticking his head out to watch the teacher. She was close to her age, and she anyways stuck up for him. She saw something in him, and Logan adored her for it.

Y/n sang as she took her keys out of her purse and unlocked her door. After she went in and closed her door, Logan stalked after.

Logan swore he loved this woman like no other before, even though his been alive for nearly one hundred years. She was so different.

Logan knew he had something for y/n after the first week. He had his own room, a nice bed, and thick walls. As a normal man, he showered and touched himself, rubbing until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

As he was jerking off in his new room, he thought of y/n. At first, a small image of her popped up. Then her voice rang through his head. Before he could ask himself why that was, he came silly around his hand, stomach, and thighs.

“Miss y/n?” Logan knocked on his teacher's door right as she wrapped herself in her robe. If this was another student, she would’ve ignored him, but this student was Logan. She grew a small place in her heart for him.

Y/n got up from her bed and walked over to her door, opening it to the sight of a very down Logan. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Y/n asked as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

The man thought this would be easier, but it wasn’t. How would he explain what he’s going through? What would he say? He doesn’t even know what’s going on.

“Hey, it’s okay — You can tell me anything,” Y/n said, but all the man did was ignore eye contact. “C’mere,” y/n motioned him to come into her room. Within seconds, he was in, standing in the middle of her room as his heart pounded.

“Now we’re in here. No one can hear us, so you're safe with me,” the young lady spoke to him like a child, only because he was her student. Other than that, he should be the one to the king to him the way she is.

“For a week I’ve been going through this-this cycle. At first, it was just a small pain, but then my mouth felt dry. Dry like I needed something to eat or — or taste,” the man said, but she didn’t understand.

“Is this like an animalistic thing? Not calling you an animal by the way, I’m just trying to know you better before I start,” she said as she sat down on her bed. She wanted to help him, but he was afraid she might not want to help in the way he needed it.

“No, no, it’s- I honestly don’t know,” the man cut himself off. Even though he didn’t understand himself fully, he knew he needed to touch her. Get close to her and taste her.

“How about you relax tonight, and when you wake up, we can go talk to Hank. Get you checked out,” Y/n smiled at the boy as he walked over to her. The way she looked up at him, made him crumble. She was so pretty.

“Thank you, y/n,” the man cupped the woman’s chin. “Oh, there’s no problem. Really! That’s what I’m here for,” she smiled as she looked away from the thanks he gave, happy that someone saw the hard work she put in.

“No,” the man spoke, voice low as he softly pulled her back to look up at him. “I need to thank you,” the man whispered as he leaned down. “You already have-“ Before she could finish, his lips were on hers.

The girl's eyes widened, shocked at her student's actions, but didn’t push him away. On the other end, Logan’s eyes were shut and his stomach crumbled from the nervous but thankful feeling of her lips on his.

“Logan,” y/n spoke in between her kiss. He responded by softly pushing her down on her bed, shifting her to her liking right before he hovered over her, crotch instantly pressed into her clothes heat.

“L-Logan, wait,” y/n tried speaking, but he kissed her hard, grinding on the woman to earn s few shaky moans. He thanked her god she was in a robe and only had panties on — made his little plan easier.

“Ssh,” Logan shushed her as his lips traveled to her neck, sucking hard to make sure something shows up. He wanted people to know she was taken, even if they didn’t know it was him.

“Logan, you can’t — We can’t,” she spoke as she pushed at the man’s shoulders, but he wouldn’t budge. “Yes, we can,” he assured her with a low voice before hooking his fingers around her panties before ripping them clean off.

“Logan!” She finally shouted in shock. He continued his work by unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers down. “I need you, now,” the man slightly growled as he took his cock in hand, feeling his heart raise.

“Logan! Logan, listen — I-I can’t do this. My job!” She said as he tried pushing at her entrance, but she kept shifting to stop him. “You do so good at your job, miss y/n. Made me need you more,” the man spoke into her ear, still trying to get in, but she was a fighter.

If it wasn’t for her job, she would’ve let this happen, but she can’t. She’s his student, and he’s so sweet. She never thought anything like this of him.

“C’mon, Bub — Help a kid some more,” the man smirked down at the young lady before he finally pushed through her walls. He watched y/n struggle on his cock, whining at the instant stretch he gave her.

“L-Logan,” she stuttered as her hands pushed at his hips. She never knew how fit he was until she touched him. He used all his working out and power to snap his hips, jolting her body into her mattress.

“Fuck, baby,” the man dragged, looking down at himself disappearing in her cunt. She already coated his cock with her wetness. “Need you to soak me some more, y/n. Help me like any other time,” the man’s voice still felt low and soft to her, but nothing about his thrusts was soft.

“Logan,” she whined, forgetting about her job, and took him in without wanting him to stop. He rolled his hips so well. “Cum on my cock,” the man’s voice was close to her ear again, this time with a growl.

Logan’s left hand dug into her side as the other pushed her knee back to fuck he’d in a new angle. Now he’s hovered over her, watching her eyes squint in pain and pleasure.

“Do it, y/n — Fuckin’ do it before I get angry,” the man slightly threatened through his teeth. Logan slammed into the woman, taking in her whines and yelps as she squeezed down onto him.

“That’s it — Look at you,” Logan spoke as y/n shook from her orgasm taking over her body. “They always say I’m an animal. Tellin’ me I’ll never be normal, but that didn’t matter to you. You like me like this. Like me burning my cock in your sweet cunt,”

Y/n’s head nodded, agreeing how much she loved this, but deep down, she couldn’t take it. He was rough, but she didn’t want him to stop.

“Gonna breed this pretty girl, then see the looks on their face. Sweet favorite teacher knocked up by the Wolverine. By the animal — Fuck!” the man grunted at the thought of that. He was going to make it happen.

[zvdvdlvr]

— I Love You

— 🧠 synopsis. A tough case leaves you in the more than willing arms of SSA Aaron Hotchner.

— 🧠 word count. 2,409

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language. Idiots to lovers. Friends to lovers. Weird plot. Possible jealous!Hotch.

Maybe it was the children that hadn’t been saved in time. Maybe it was the pitying glances from not only the team, but the police officers. Maybe, even, it was the way Aaron’s eyes flitted away any time y/n looked up. 

No, y/n was mad. Angry, spiteful, defiant- any other synonyms for angry. The fact that the unsub had been completely fooled by y/n’s act until he had promptly decided he didn’t believe y/n’s promise to help in any way she could to lower his prison sentence. That’s the thing with schizophrenics: they’re extremely paranoid.

Y/n was so infuriated, she refused to talk- a habit that she had learned from childhood. If she didn’t say anything, she couldn’t get in trouble. It was a bad habit that y/n had eventually stopped by the time she went to college because the anger she kept inside of her without any kind of release would always find a way to rot her from the inside out. 

So now, even on the flight home, y/n still hasn’t said more than two sentences in a row.

— 🧠

Aaron Hotchner was a man with excellent observation skills and the ability to adapt. He knew y/n’s habit of reserving herself to silence due to the amount of time they have worked together, but Aaron felt like something was different this time.

Instead of starting the pile of paperwork he already had, Aaron instead found himself watching y/n. She was always extremely sensitive to cases that dealt with kids, but this seem to hit home, adding to the fact that their unsub had blown his brains out within a five foot radius of y/n and the seven-year-old girl that had been the last victim. 

When the team had gotten to the scene, they watched the little girl dissolve into y/n’s arms, brain matter and blood on the latter’s face. The look in y/n’s eyes when Derek had immediately rushed to the two of them was one of complete despair. Aaron watched, paralyzed, as you picked up the little girl and let her scream and wail near your ringing ears. You turned, pressing her head down so she wouldn’t look at the dead body and look Aaron dead in the eyes and took the child to the ambulance.

Something in your eyes had provoked worry in Aaron. Did you feel guilty? Were you not allowing yourself to break down when you needed to be strong for the little soul in your arms? Was there something you were trying to tell him?

“Hey,” Hotch murmured. He sat down as carefully as he could (which wasn’t too impressive seeing as it was 1 in the morning on a plane).

When you didn’t say anything, Hotch sighed. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I need you to know you did what you had to do. What he did… that wasn’t on you, y/n.”

Then you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and Aaron felt his heart sink. “Oh, honey…” he whispered. 

And then you were in his arms, crying, while trying not to wake up the others. “Hotch, I-“ you started, sniffling. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Aaron all but cooed, lightly carding his fingers through your hair. He knew you blamed yourself because that’s how you are. You always strive to do the best you possibly could, oftentimes resorting to neglecting yourself whenever you did something that you knew you could have done better or simply because you forgot. 

“It’s all my fault, Aaron, I- I could have saved him but- I… I messed up and I- I don’t even know what I did! And that little girl…” you trailed off, another wave of tears threatening to overtake your ability to speak. 

Aaron’s throat bobbed as he struggled to find the words to comfort the woman in his arms. Long ago had he resigned to simply being y/n’s boss/borderline friend because he accepted the fact that- as much as he hated to admit it- he was older, not your type, or just simply unattractive. But he would do theoretically anything you asked him to do even if it caused him heartbreak in the future.

“You saved that little girl, angel. *You* did. If you save one of them, you save all of them. Focus on the good, honey, not the bad. If you can do that then you can do anything, and believe me,” Aaron smiled, “I have no doubt in my mind you can do anything.” 

Aaron held you and prayed to God that you didn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. He brushed your tears away and let you sleep on his shoulder, happy that he had hopefully gotten you out of your funk.

— 🧠

Later, Aaron woke up to Derek tapping his shoulder. “Do you want me to take our golden girl home?” Derek asked, with a softness to his voice that he had whenever he talked to you. 

Blinking away the tiredness from his eyes, Aaron shook his head. “No. No, I got her. Tjank you, Derek, but you need to go home and get some rest.” 

Derek nodded. “Get home safe,” he said to Hotch, a small smile in his face when he heard you sigh a little in you sleep and bury your head even further into Aaron’s neck.

Derek patted Aaron’s shoulder before taking his leave.

“Wake up, y/n,” Aaron murmured, heart swelling in his chest when he heard you mumble incoherent words.

Slinging his own go-bag and yours over his shoulders, Hotch helped you stand up.

“Hotch, lemme take my-“ you started, being cut off with a yawn.

“I got it, y/n,” Aaron chuckled. He let you slip your arm in his and all but lean on him as he made his way to his car. 

When he got you settled into the passage seat, Aaron tossed the bags in the back and started the drive to your house. 

“Aaron?” You asked, voice small.

He looked over at you. Despite the lack of light, Aaron watched you pick at your fingers. “Yeah?”

It took you a minute before saying something. You wanted to ask him why he kept calling you ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’. It’s not that you didn’t like it (you loved it), you just don’t think he could keep calling you that if he didn’t have any kind of attraction to you. You, though, you’ve been enamored with Aaron Hotchner since the day he shook your hand and offered you a job. 

Similarly, you wanted to ask him what he did when he got lost in his own mind; when he himself couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts. 

So you settled on a breathless “Thank you”. 

Silence reigned once more as Aaron tried to pick out the meaning of your thanks. Where you thanking him for driving you home? For letting you fall asleep on him? For… being one of the best friends you’d ever had in your life without saying it?

When Aaron carried your bag to the door as you unlocked the it, he wondered if there was another universe where he was taking you home every night, going to bed with you, waking up to Jack begging for pancakes with you, dropping Jack off at school with you, and then going to work with you. Maybe, Aaron thought, somewhere in another universe I’m watching the woman I love fall asleep with my child in her arms. 

“Do you… need anything else?” Aaron asked, holding out y/n’s go-bag for her to take. 

Aaron kicked himself. He felt like a school boy whenever you’re around, and the fact that he’s standing in front of you and your home isn’t really helping his nerves.

“Would you maybe want to, uh… stay? For tonight?” Y/n blurted. Aaron’s eyes must have widened because he saw y/n become flustered. “I- you know, just for tonight. I need a ride to work tomorrow anyway… You- You might as well just stay.”

“If you want me to-“

“Please?” 

Aaron stepped into y/n’s house and immediately toed off his shoes. “Where do you want me to put this?” 

“I’ll take it.” She accepted the bag and walked to her room.

Aaron walked around the kitchen. Your house was clean and colorful. You had quite a few photos of the sunset framed by your television, but there were a lot more candid shots of the BAU then of your family. Hm.

“Come here, A,” you called from your room (?).

Dutifully, Aaron followed the sound of your voice, pushing your door open slowly and entering your room. Where you sleep. Where you get dressed and undressed. Where you live.

You walked over to Aaron and handed him a little pile of clothes. “These should fit. I guessed your size. If those don’t fit I have more men’s clothes.” 

“Why do you have men’s clothing?” Aaron asked, a smile toying at his lips. 

“Brothers, boyfriends… they’re comfy,” y/n shrugged. “Does it matter, Aaron?” 

Aaron watched you tilt your head, smirk widening. 

“Just curious.” He defends himself poorly, red tinging his cheeks as he scratches his head.

“Bathroom’s right in there,” you say, pointing to the door attached to your room. 

Aarom walks to your bathroom and shuts the door. He immediately releases a breath of air he hadn’t realize he had been holding. After turning on the lights, he changes into the clothes you gave him. Both owns smelled exactly like you, something that made Aaron smile.

He shut off the light and closed the door. “Thank you, y/n. I appreciate it.”

You looked up from your dresser. “You’d do the same for me. There’s nothing to thank me, Aaron.”

“What are you doing?” Aaron asked, approaching your figure. 

“I don’t think you would want to see me walk around in just a bra and boxers, A,” y/n laughs. 

The bluntness of your answers smacks Aaron in the face with a metal bar. “Boxers?” He finds himself asking.

You just laugh. “They’re comfortable.” 

“You don’t have to change your sleeping routine for me,” Aaron says quietly, eyes looking directly into your own.

“Are you sure?” 

“We’re just sleeping,” Aaron shrugs. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Your eyes flicker between your boss’s and suddenly your wondering how you got here. The line between boss/employee and more-than-friends/not-quite-dating was blurred and you didn’t even remember putting your thumb on how you felt about your boss.

“Okay,” you say slowly. You close the drawer, holding a sports bra and boxers. “I’m gonna go change and go to sleep… Do you want me to set up the couch or just sleep in the bed with me?” 

“What do you want, y/n?”

You direct your gaze to the floor. “I don’t care, honestly.” You weren’t just gonna tell your crush you feel safer when his touch is what lulls you to sleep, that you’ve been in love with him since practically the beginning of time, that you wanted more than just a night (of PG activities!) with him.

“I hear your brain going 200 miles an hour over there, sweetheart. What’re you thinking?” Aaron teases.

“Will you hold me, Aaron?” You ask, urging yourself to look into his eyes. Moment of truth, you think, he’s either gonna laugh in my face or I’m gonna fall even deeper in love with my boss as we cuddle.

Aaron feels winded at your tiny voice. Yes, he wants to scream, yes! “Go get changed, honey. I’ll be right here.” 

Then that smile is back and all Aaron wants to do his pick you up in his arms and kiss you, maybe spin you around the room. His heart swells in his chest again (it’s been doing that a lot lately, he notes) as you pat his arm in thanks as you pass him to head to your bathroom.

Aaron climbs into your bed, setting his essentials (badge, keys, gun, etc.,) on the nightstand. 

You flip off the light switch and pad over to the bed and slip under the covers. 

For what felt like a millennium, Aaron held his breath and waited. 

“Aaron, I have to tell you something. It’s been on my mind and… just hear me out. Please. You don’t have to say anything back and I understand if-“ you babble.

“Take a breath, y/n,” Aaron soothes. “What’s up?”

“I’m in love with you, Aaron Benjamin Hotchner. Like, if I had to choose between you over breathing I would literally spend my last breath telling you how much I love you. You are always on my mind, Aaron, and it hurts because I can’t do anything about it. I know I’m not your type, I know I’m just your co-worker, I know you probably aren’t looking to date anyone, but I just… I want you to know,” you ramble, words tumbling out of your mouth like Reid when he get’s started on some random fact. 

Aaron blinks, pupils widening. “Do you seriously think you’re ‘just a co-worker’ to me?” 

You swallow. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I would let just anyone call me Aaron? How often to you see me taking out Morgan for coffee when he gets cranky? Do I almost always end up sitting by Emily on the flight home after a case? Do I call Spencer ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’?” Aaron asks quietly, hand resting on your cheek while he tucks a loc of hair under your ear so he can see your eyes better. “Jack loves you. I love you.” Aaron laughs at how comically large your eyes get.

“Jack loves me?” You ask.

Aaron laughs. “He loves you ‘to the moon and back’.” 

“He loves that book, Aaron, don’t laugh at your baby boy,” you scold playfully.

“I outdo him though, because I love you to Saturn and back.”

You turn to the nightstand and shut the light off before turning back to face Aaron. “Will you hold me, Aaron? Please?” 

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Aaron says, opening his arms to welcome you into him. 

And then that’s when you know his words are true. His heart rate  is definitely elevated, but so is yours. “Will you tell me you love me, again?”

Aaron, now lying on his back with you clinging onto him like a weighted blanket, complied. Carding his fingers through her hair, Aaron lulled her mind off to a quiet, safe place. “I love you, angel,” Aaron whispered, pressing a soft kiss to y/n’s forhead.

[misctf]

The New Doctor

“Oh come on, another one?” Dr. Luke Hoffer groaned as his pager went off.

Another patient to add to the growing list. He walked briskly towards the room where his newest patient awaited him. The young doctor knew he shouldn’t feel this burnt out already. He just graduated medical school a few months ago, but they weren’t lying when they said this part of his training would be busy. He couldn’t recall the last time he had a night off, and the hospital he was rotating at didn’t have the best clinical support. But he did his best to put on a smile as he entered his new patient’s room.

“Bro, what’s up?” Luke maintained his smile but inwardly cringed.

“Mr. Reedy, correct?” Luke asked. The name sounded familiar. One of the senior doctors shared the same last name. But unlike Dr. Reedy, this man looked like your stereotypical bro. Similar to the frat guys who Luke used to see piss drunk during his college EMS days, “I see you must’ve injured your arm there.”

“Dude, the name is Cole.” Cole chuckled dumbly, “Mr. Reedy is my dad’s name.” Luke nodded. He didn’t have time for this, “But yeah broski, totally wiped out. Brett said I couldn’t climb a tree drunk, but like I knew I could.”

‘Evidently not.’ Luke thought, jotting down a few notes.

“And like, I know what you’re thinking. Broken arm. Must’ve fucked up and like I did, bro. But I made it to the top.” Cole smirked and went to punch the air victoriously but recoiled from the pain, “So yeah doc. That’s why I’m here.”

“I see, well thank you for sharing.” Luke replied, “Would you mind if I just listened to your heart and lungs? I’ll check out your arm in just a moment.” Cole nodded and Luke started his exam.

“Oh sick dude. I’ve always thought those steth... stetho-things... the ear listeny thingies were pretty sick.”

“Stethoscope.” Luke said bluntly, leaning in to listen, “And I need you to be quiet during this part of the...”

BURRRRPPPPPP

Luke recoiled as the most foul smelling burp blasted him in the face. It smelled of cheap beer and chicken wings. He immediately took a step back and did his best to hold back a gag. Cole blushed and chuckled awkwardly.

“Sorry bro, maybe you should check out my stomach.” He chuckled.

Luke forced a grin, all while mentally gagging. Maybe Cole was right about that. Whatever had crawled into Cole’s stomach and died definitely needed more help.

______________________

Luke sat at his desk after finishing his exam with Cole. Luckily there hadn’t been any other surprise burps. The young doctor continued typing away, trying to get as much paperwork done before the next inevitable wave of new patients. He hoped they weren’t like Cole. Sure, there was nothing outright wrong with the guy. But he reminded Luke of all the stereotypical meatheads he encountered growing up. Words like brash, loud, stupid, sexy... Sexy?

‘Where did that come from?’ Luke thought as he massaged his temples, ‘Must be from lack of sleep. Yeah, totally.’ He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.

“Dr. Hoffer.” Luke turned towards the nurse that called his name, “Your patient in room 15 wanted to talk.” She raised an eyebrow and Luke looked at her quizzically, “Um, Dr. Hoffer, uhhh.” It looked like she was choosing her words carefully, “Have you been using a new deodorant?”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “Uh no, why?” He raised his arm and was taken aback by the massive pit stain. But worse yet, the smell that followed caused him to gag, “Oh god, I must’ve forgot tonight.” He blushed, “Thanks, I’ll grab a new top and I should have some extra deodorant in my locker.” She nodded and Luke groaned as she left, “How fucking embarrassing.” He mumbled.

______________________

“Yo doc, what’s good?” Cole grinned when Luke entered his room.

“I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yeah bro.” He chuckled dumbly, “I uh forgot tbh.” Luke did his best to hide his annoyance, “But uh, like do you have anything that can help me with my gains?”

“Your gains?” Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “No, nothing in particular. Just keep going to the gym.”

“Fuck I love the gym.” Cole remarked, “Yo doc, did you hit the gym or somethin’ after we talked. You’re lookin’ swole bro.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he hit the gym once in a while. Mostly cardio and occasional light weights. But he wasn’t someone you’d describe as swole. But when he looked down at himself, he couldn’t help but notice that his arms were just a tad tighter at the sleeves. And in general, the scrub top seemed to be a tighter fit, especially around his chest.

‘Must’ve grabbed a small or something.’ He thought and turned back to Cole, “I had to change my scrub top. Totally forgot to wear deodorant tonight, bro.” Cole grinned but Luke blushed. First, why did he tell Cole he forgot deodorant? And second, why did he just call his patient bro?

“Yo, you and me both, man.” Cole chuckled and took a whiff of his pit, “Smells ripe tonight. Nothin’ wrong with letting your natural scent come through.” He raised his hand to give Luke a fist bump.

“No thank you, I uh need to go see another patient.” Luke said, quickly rushing out of Cole’s room.

______________________

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Luke turned to face his newest patient- an older woman with stomach pain.

“Uh yeah, sorry.” He said, scratching his firm chest absentmindedly.

“I don’t think you were.” She replied. Luke internally groaned. Just another entitled boomer, “It looks like you’re more interested in that stupid game.” She gestured to the TV.  

“Stupid game?” Luke chuckled. Baseball was far from stupid, although Luke couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so interested in it, “Well yeah, tonight’s the big game. Like, if they win tonight, they’ll go to the playoffs.”

The woman’s face flushed red with anger, “Get out, I want to see another doctor.”  

Luke shrugged, “Fine by me.” He barely noticed the hairs now poking out from his collar.

But when he left the room, something dawned on him. Did a patient just fire him? He narrowed his eyes, confused at what just happened. He was always commended on his professional demeanor and good patient relationships. This wasn’t like him. He turned around and entered the room.

“Hi ma’am, I’m sorry for my behavior. Is it okay if we restart?” He asked politely.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” The woman huffed.

And so Luke was able to breathe a sigh of relief. And despite his urge to turn and watch the big game, he did his best to do a thorough exam.

______________________

Sitting at his desk, Luke pulled up the baseball game on his computer. He could watch and write notes at the same time. But the real distraction was his increasingly more uncomfortable scrub top. The sleeves were definitely way too tight on his arms and for a fleeting moment he thought that it would be best to go shirtless. But he shook the thought out of his mind and started typing.

“Patient presented with abdominal pain likely secondary to cholelith... chole...” He narrowed his eyes as he tried to think of the correct medical term. He should know this- it was basic, “Likely secondary to big stones.” He wrote confidently. He scratched his chin and was met with something that he knew couldn’t be right. He quickly pulled out his phone and looked at himself in the camera, “Since when did I grow a beard?” He whispered, “I swear... I mean I had some fuzz but it never grows this quick.” But before he could think more on it, another page came through, “Of course...” He whispered.

______________________

“Dude! Where’ve you been?” Cole asked as Luke entered his room, “Doc, you don’t look so good.”  

It was true. Luke looked and felt nauseous. The walk over was weird. He felt heavier somehow and unfamiliar in his own body. Each step required more thought as he adjusted to these new sensations.

“It’s nothing, brah.” Luke commented, barely registering what he said, “So uh, like what did ya call me in here for?”

Cole grinned, “Dude! Have you been watching the game?” Luke nodded, his eyes filling with joy.

“Bro! It’s awesome. Did you see that homer?”

“You fuckin’ know it. By the way, wanna come back to my place and watch? A few of the bros are there and we’ve got beer. And Andy’s bringing his sis. The one with the fat tits.”

Luke chuckled, his voice deepening as he did, “Dude that sounds sick, and like beer is awesome but I’m more into dudes.” Cole’s eyes widened.

“Wait really bro?” He said and Luke feared he was about to be judged, “Same, man! Huhuhuh I just mentioned Andy’s sister ‘cause I assumed you’d be into that.”

“Nah bro, I’d much rather suck you off.” Luke’s eyes widened this time as the words left his mouth. And while Cole’s smile widened, Luke was hit by a bombardment of thoughts telling him this was wrong, “Shit, I shouldn’t have...”

“I won’t tell anyone dude.” Cole remarked, “Besides, I could go for quickie right about now.”

“No, this isn’t right.” Luke insisted, “I uh... I need to go finish some notes.” He quickly left the room, not noticing that his scrub top was now straining against his growing musculature-threatening to rip at any moment.

______________________

Luke was growing more frustrated by the second. He tried to sit down to work on his notes, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember basic medical terminology. Nor could he remember the correct format of a medical note. He instead opted to stare blankly at the baseball game.

“Sir, you shouldn’t be back here.” Luke looked up to see his nurse standing over him, “It’s for employees only.”

“Huhuhuh very funny, brah.” Luke replied with a grin, “But like, I’m the doc around here.” He went to fish out his ID but was struggling to find it, “Uhhh like... just give me a second here...”

She raised an eyebrow, “Look sir, I’ll have to call...”

RIPPPPPPPPPPP

The nurse blushed as Luke’s scrub top finally tore and fell to the ground, revealing his chiseled pecs and tight abdominal muscles. Luke for his part, didn’t really seem to care as he continued to search for his ID. He looked up at her and chuckled.

“Must’ve lost it, bro.” Luke remarked, scratching the back of his head. His exposed pit filled the room with his masculine musk, “Uh like...”

“Sir, I’m going to have to call security if you don’t leave immediately.” The nurse said firmly, doing her best to not stare at the hunk in front of her.

“But like, I’m the doc.” Luke insisted, growing somewhat frustrated, “Like look.” He gestured to his stethoscope, “Doctors always have steth... stetho-things... the ear listeny thingies.”

“Stethoscopes.” The nurse replied, raising an eyebrow, “And I’m pretty sure a doctor would know what they were called.”

“Huhuhuh I guess you’re right about that, brah.” Luke chuckled dumbly, “Well like, fine... I’d rather hang out with my bros anyway.”

Luke stood up. If they didn’t want him here, he’d go somewhere that people would. He walked with a confident swagger to room 15.

______________________

“Bro! Looking swole! Where’d your top go?” Cole asked as Luke entered the room.

“Dude, my muscles can’t be contained.” Luke chuckled dumbly, flexing his biceps, “But like, let’s get out of here, brah. Everyone here’s an asshole.”

“Bro, I hear ya.” Cole remarked, “Why’d ya think I took a break from this place?”

Luke’s slow brain was confused, “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Dude! You don’t recognize me? Cole Reedy? Dr. Reedy? Well not really anymore I guess.” His dumb laughter filled the air. Luke just chuckled along with him, “So, you ready to get the fuck outta here?”

Luke nodded enthusiastically, “I heard there’re some bros watchin’ the big game. And beer.”

“Yeah man! And I also heard there’s a guy lookin’ to suck some dick.” Cole grinned. A lightbulb went off in Luke’s smaller brain and he grinned.

“You know what they say, brah. A blowjob a day keeps the doctor away.” Luke chuckled at his own joke and the two bros fist bumped.

Luke couldn’t fully process what happened to him that night. Or how he wound up sucking Cole’s dick in the back of his truck. Or how he eventually got dared to climb a stupid tree while drunk. Or how he now found himself in the emergency room, this time as a patient. But what he did know, as he burped in the face of the doc taking care of him, was that he couldn’t wait for their newest bro to join their ranks.

[2tcs]

Day 3: reunions after a long time and rain

“Hay Bruce?” Duke asked as he walked out of the locker room. It was the end of his shift, thank god, so everyone was getting ready for the night shift.

“What's going on chum?”

“My cousin is coming to Gotham for a senior field trip thing next week to visit Gotham U and I was wondering if he and his friends can stay at the manor so they don’t have to pay for a hotel.”

“We’ll have to run a background check on them” “Already done!” Duke interrupted Bruce and jumped around him to get to the batcomputer to open up the files.

“Hmm. You really want your cousin to visit huh.” Bruce said as he scanned through the files.

“Ya. I haven’t seen him in ages and even though we text it’s not the same as an in-person visit. And Gotham isn’t safe for tourists so, manor.”

“Mhm, Duke?”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Why are his and his friends' hometown labeled as unconfirmed?”

“Well, that may be one of the reasons I thought it would be a good idea for everyone to meet them? I know Tucker lives in Amity Park, Illinois. I’ve even visited him there when we were kids. But when I tried to look it up for the background check I couldn’t find it. It’s like it never existed. When I tried to ask him about it he kinda dodged my question and changed the subject. Like he was nervous about someone overhearing.”

“Alright. I’ll inform Tim about their hometown and see if he can find out what’s going on. Make sure you tell Alfried that we are having guests.”

“Thank you so much Bruce! I’ll go tell Alfried right now. Night!” Duke yelled as he ran to the elevator.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tucker! Over here!” Duke yelled as Tucker and his friends got off the bus.

“Duke! It’s good to see you! How have you been?” Tucker said as he ran up to Duke and gave him a side hug while using his free hand to point. “This is Danny and Sam. Danny, Sam. This is my cousin Duke.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Tucker’s told me a lot about you two.” Duke said as he accepted handshakes from Sam then Danny.

“It’s nice to meet you too Duke. Hopefully, Tucker has told you only the worst of things about us.” Sam joked.

“Of course. Hay, did you really switch out all the frogs in your freshman biology class with robot frogs?”

“Don’t remind me. Those things were so creepy. They talked to you as you cut them open.” Danny said with a disgusted face.

“It was more humane than dissecting living animals.” Sam defended herself.

“Wait. The frogs were alive? Tucker! Why was your school using living frogs instead of cadaver frogs?” Duke asked in shock.

“I got no clue man. Anyways, do we need to call a cab to get to your place? Cause I’m not walking in this downpour.” Tucker said while looking around.

“Hold on right there Mr Foley. You all need to sign these forms so we can get ahold of you in case of an emergency.” Mr Lancer said as he walked up to the group with several papers. “And I would also like to speak to your guardian before my students leave so I know they are in safe hands.”

“Ahem. I’m afraid Master Wayne is occupied with work right now but I am his butler, Alfred Pennyworth and I am in charge of taking care of all the needs of the Wayne family and their guests. If need be here is the main phone number for the manor as well as the address. Is there anything else I can do to ensure you of your students’ safety?” Alfred said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and handed Mr Lancer a business card with the aforementioned information written on the back.

“Thank you for this Mr Pennyworth. My name is Lenard Lancer. As the vice principal of Casper High School, I have a duty to the students of our school. So I will still need these three to fill out these forms before they leave.”

“Of course Mr Lancer. I fully understand. Now if you all would please finish with the paperwork, we can load into the car and get out of this dreadful weather.” Alfred said watching as Danny, Sam, and Tucker traded off on using each other's backs to fill out the forms and hand them back to Mr Lancer.

[simplyreveries]

hi sorry for my English, but can I ask the boys to overblot with a s/o who likes to mark their face with lipstick marks please

lipstick marks; overblot boysss

aaaaa i love this idea so much, thank you 😭😭

this is perfect because i have an obsession with lipstick<3

riddle rosehearts

it doesn't matter how long you two have been together he still gets so flushed after any kiss from you. you have such an effect on him, it's crazy. so, he doesn't even notice the lipstick stains left on him- he only learned when he heard ace snickering about something and commenting on his left cheek.

he was so flustered by that and learned to always check his face after you kiss him, he has a status to keep up as dorm leader!! he doesn't want to be improper or anything...or hear all the teasing from the others. but he does secretly enjoy it that you love to give them to him.

whenever you pepper his faces with kisses and he has to use something like a handkerchief to rub it off, he'll be all red in the face and mutter something like "oh dear..." under his breath as he worriedly goes to a mirror. but you've sworn you've caught him smiling a little, on multiple occasions.

leona kingscholar

when you come up to him and press kisses on his face whenever he’s asleep and trying to nap- he’ll groan tiredly and tell you not too because he’s too tired to wipe off all your “damn lipstick” right now. (let’s be REAL leona) you usually see a small smirk on his face with his eyes closed though. leona will seem even irritated if you'd stop.

he’ll roll his eyes when he wipes his lips with the back of his hand and sees it stained with the color of your lips and pull you back in for another. by the end of it his lips are smudged around with the shade of yours. its definitely a sight to see if it's a pinkish color.

leona doesn’t actually really care, I mean a lot like the others he’ll make sure to get it off before going out or something… though there may have been a few times he’s forgotten or missed it because he is usually half-asleep when you’re smooching him.

azul ashengrotto

every time you kiss and smooch him, he's so smitten, his brain cant function and he can't think of really anything or anyone else. in the privacy of his office are his favorite moments when you come to check on him and give him affection. this man is putty in your hands idc!!

so needless to say, the first time this happened to him- he doesn't even notice, like riddle. he'll be in such a dreamy mood and state while he does his paperwork. when jade comes to him about something, he immediately covers his mouth with his gloved hand trying to hide the amusement he clearly is feeling when seeing azul like that. he doesn't even tell him because he thinks its funny, jade only said "ah i didnt notice (name) was here earlier..."

azul was confused but brushed it off because he deemed this behavior normal from the twins. azul only learned the hard way when he heard floyd who couldn't keep it to himself.

every time you kiss him azul tries to remember to, but once again he's stuck on thinking about you. when he looks at himself in the mirror to wipe it off, he's got such a stupid grin on his face. his favorite spot to see where its left is right under his mouth where his beauty mark is.

jamil viper

he feels the lipstick left on his face usually and places his fingers against it and has the smuggest smile... he loves it honestly. within the privacy of him in you, when he feels it smudged and left on his face it makes him weak. he pretty much doesn't forget to rub it off still, but sometimes you may see the reminiscent color left on his face.

he oddly enjoys putting your lipstick on for you, jamil would do it for you if you ask him. he likes choosing his favorite colors that you have to put on you. i mean, there's also the perk of him getting kissed as a thanks so he's not complaining.

if you did it out in public, well he will let out a small huff and discreetly tries to wipe it off hoping no other dormmates or god forbid kalim saw him with it, he'll only tease him with mushy things about how cute him and you are together. he pretends like he doesn't like them, so it is rather funny to see. he just doesn't want to appear like that in front of others.

vil schoenheit

he literally does the same thing to you ALL the time. only he chuckles and coos while rubbing it off of your face gently. whenever you two are done kissing both of your faces are covered in each other's lipstick. he personally really likes the look of you like that.

he usually looks into his compact mirror from his uniform, he laughs saying something like "oh my, look at what you've done, dear." like he just didn't leave the same exact thing on your face as well.

vil 100% buys you more and more lipstick... like literally pick what you want. he'll give you the best and prettiest brands, he loves seeing you in them anyway. he'll be amused and point out its a brand he bought for you as he wipes it off his cheek carefully. he also knows exactly what colors would suit and compliment you the best.

idia shroud

idia was a huge ball of nerves when it came to kissing you at first, he's had zero experience, and he feels insecure about his lips- as they're chapped and scarred a bit from him biting his lips out of anxiety. you got him some vaseline and flavored lip balm for him, but he only likes it when you put it on his lips for him.

the tips of his hair always gets all pink, like his groovy card in the ghost marriage event- when you kiss him, and he sees the lipstick stains imprinted on his skin. he is flustered beyond belief, but he always craves more from you- once you start, he cannot seem to get enough of you. idia gives you this toothy grin and wipes them off with the sleeve of his jacket but whenever you get red lipstick on him, and he does that it just ends up looking like blush on his pale skin.

love love loves any flavored ones like lip gloss you use that taste sweet. definitely use them because it'll always work on idia. you literally make this man dizzy and lightheaded with your lips- he doesn't seem to care about the lipstick getting on him one bit when it's the two of you. he'll only feel embarrassed if you give him a small one if you're out and cover his face nervously.

malleus draconia

malleus kisses you so much that his own lips turn the color of your lipstick. not only does it attack his whole face, but you've got his lips in that shade too, he only notices when you point it out and laugh. he'll smile and hum, only to lean in for more from you.

its funny because if you're trying to give him a kiss- with your height difference you'd end up getting a stain on his neck- at best. he thinks it's amusing as he chuckles. he'll give you a real kiss then. malleus is honestly lowkey proud to have them on him, he sees it as a sign of your affection and love from you so why wouldn't he like it? he has this dumb smirk on his face when you've got the darkest shade and you kiss him, it's the most visible on him of course.

like vil, he'll happily supply you with however many you want. malleus loves seeing you wear lipstick, it's really his favorite thing. but as i've mentioned he prefers dark shades on you the best out of them all, for sure.

[lair-of-platonic-yanderes]

His Hatchling

Platonic! Yandere! Neuvillette x GN! Child! Reader

Description: It might not seem like it, but dragons are very protective over their hatchlings. Even if the hatchling in question aren't dragon.

Warning: Platonic Yandere. OOC. English is my second language. Some hints of child negligence.

________

He met the kid near Palais Mermonia for the first time.

Judging by the kid's clothes, they were from Mondstadt. They were sitting at the bottom of Hydro Archon's statue, looking around. And big [e/c] eyes shined with curiosity.

Neuvillette didn't pay too much though to them. Just an ordinary kid, doing ordinary things. Perhaps, they were waiting for their friends.

Neuvillette had more important things on his mind.

When he left Palais Mermonia at the evening, kid were still here. At the bottom of the Hydro Archon's statue.

_____

Kid were here the next day. Still sitting at the bottom of the Hydro Archon's statue. Neuvillette still wasn't worried about them. Of course, Archon's statue was an unusual spot for a kid to hang out, but, again, nothing to be worried about.

He has a lot of work to do, so Neuvillette should focus on finishing it, instead of thinking about foreigner.

During lunchtime, he heard laughing, coming from the outside. Neuvillette saw, how kid from earlier were playing with some melusines, that were off duty.

Neuvillette was slightly worried. Would that foreigner be rude towards melusines?

No. It doesn't look like the kid were bad. Just a simple kid.

When Neuvillette left Palais Mermonia, he saw kid sitting at the bottom of Hydro Archon's statue again.

_____________

It's been going on for two weeks.

Kid were staying sitting at the bottom of Hydro Archon's statue in the morning and in the evening and would play with free melusines during the day.

And Neuvillette started to worry about them. Where were kid's parents? Neuvillette couldn't tell for sure, if someone have recently moved to Fontaine from Mondstadt, but, even if there were new citizens, why they weren't worried about their kid doing whatever they want for two weeks straight?!

Neuvillette was tapping fingers against the table's surface, while Sedene were taking finished paperwork from his desk. Melusine tilted her head.

"Monsieur Neuvillette? Is something wrong? Can I help you with something?"

Neuvillette's breath hitched.

"No, everything is fine, Sedene. Don't worry." Neuvillette tapped his fingers again. After some consideration, he asked. "Sedene, do you knew anything about the kid that have been staying near Palais Mermonia for the last two weeks?"

Sedene's ears perked up.

"You mean [Y/N]? They are a sweet kid. They came from Mondstadt. I didn't have too many chances to interact with them, but other melusines are having a good opinion about them."

Neuvillette, without noticing, leaned forward.

"And their parents?"

Sedene rubbed her cheek.

"I haven't seen them, and [Y/N] aren't talking about them. But I believe, that Liath saw them. Monsieur Neuvillette, is something wrong with [Y/N]'s parents? Did they do something to [Y/N]?" melusine looked worried.

Neuvillette slowly shook his head.

"I am not sure. But it is possible. Can you..."

Sedene didn't let Neuvillette finish.

"Yes, Monsieur Neuvillette, I will tell others to keep an eye on them!"

With determination in her eyes, melusine turned around and left Neuvillette's office.

Chief Justice made a mental note to himself. He should spoke to Liath as soon as possible.

____________

"[Y/N]'s parents? Well, I don't really know what to say about them." Liath scratched behind her ear. Melusine tapped her foot against the pavement. "[Y/N] said, that they are nice people, but are very busy with the recent moving to the new nation" Liath frowned. "I saw their parents few times. One thing for certain. They do look more interested in settling in, then looking after [Y/N]. They eat lunch with us every day, and, most of the time, they only have snacks, instead of normal food."

__________

You were sitting under Hydro Archon's statue, as usual. You were bored. All of your melusines friends were on duty today, you still didn't make friends among other kids, and your parents were busy. You were alone, you were bored, and you were hungry.

If it wasn't for your parents' refusal to give you keys to a new house, letting you stay at home, while they were at work, and inability to give you a few more mora coins...

You were so lost in your mind, you didn't notice, how a shadow was cast over you.

A quiet coughing, however, grabbed your attention.

You looked up. And saw Monsieur Neuvillette. You haven't seen him in person before, but you recognized him from melusines' tales. You gulped. You felt nervous around Chief Justice. And, it seems, he was waiting for you to pay attention to him

You immediately jumped up from your seat, stand up, and nodded to Neuvillette.

"Good afternoon, Monsieur Neuvillette!" you whispered. You didn't hear Neuvillette's chuckle.

"Good afternoon to you two, [Y/N], right? Melusines have been talking about you."

A shy smile appeared on your face.

"Really? Great! I really like them! They are my friends!"

Neuvillette nodded.

"Good to hear. Actually, I am here, because melusines asked me to keep you company at lunch. If you are with that, of course."

Smile disappeared from your face. You don't want to show to Chief Justice, that you only don't have mora to buy something for lunch.

Like he read your thoughts, Neuvillette continue.

"I overdid myself yesterday while cooking, and now have enough food for two people. If you want, I am more than fine to share some with you."

He reached a hand towards you, inviting you to join him.

After few seconds, you took his hand.

___________________

A week passed.

A week, during which Neuvillette spend time with [Y/N].

Neuvillette couldn't really say, what was going on with him. There was no reason for him to be so concerned over the child. Kid have parents, kid have home!

Neuvillette told it to himself, while getting a soft bed and blankets for a new room in his house. Neuvillette told it to himself, while buying toys and new furniture for a new room in his house. Neuvillette told to himself, while cooking food for [Y/N].

For his hatchling.

He should keep his hatchling safe.

Especially, from this pair, that were neglecting you.

___________

Something strange was happening.

At first, you eat lunches with Neuvillette. Who always has enough food for two.

Melusines started to play close attention to you and your parents.

Then, Neuvillette started letting you spend time in his office. It was better, then staying on Court of Fontaine's streets, yes. But it was strange.

Then one day, your parents suddenly faced with legal charges. They were found guilty and send to Fortress of Meropide.

And you were adopted by Chief Justice.

___________

You were so quiet, while Neuvillette was taking you to his house, holding your hand.

Chief Justice doesn't mind the silence.

Soon, his hatchling will see his new room and new house.

His hatchling will be safe.

He will take care of his hatchling.

And make sure, that no one will harm His Hatchling.

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n…swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”