#they will always come to your door but they will also always leave

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

I've just re-read my previous requested fic for tf 141 x reader with high pain tolerance, and I think we could extend this prompt (and as always you can take it or leave it, no pressure a yea 👍🏻)

What if TF 141 almost lost F!Reader again, this time she got caught by enemies and got tortured for crucial/classified information. While being tortured, you can't help but feel a little grateful that you have such an extreme pain tolerance. You finally managed to get out that place by your own (and of course after unaliving your enemies) and got back to your team. Men are worried as hell cause 1) you look like shit, like someone has just crawled out of hell (which in your part it isn't wrong), 2) the fact that you have extreme pain tolerance just make it worse

And when you finally got evaluated by medics, including clothes off, that's when they knew you'd have it worse than what they've imagined. Black-ish bruises almost every where, broken bones, dislocated joints, dried blood etc. It's heartbreaking seeing you like this. Probably some will have self blaming, guilty, rage, and other mixed emotions. Hmm imagine the heavy angst but also the massive comfort after that.

Thankskie 🦈

Summary: high pain tolerance F!Reader get tortured, after you getting rescued, enjoy the FLUFF between you and TF141

cw: very slight gore (interrogation), canon swearing, canon violence

blahaj, FLUFF, TF141*F!Reader

last req about high pain tolerance F!Reader

Oh, This isn’t great. You probably going to die this time.

You licked your chapped lips, the bitterness of iron is obnoxious, making you regret the motion and go back to try to piece together your memories again.

You counted the time when you first got caught, but after endless rounds of interrogations, your mind is too hazy to keep up the measurement.

With your hands bounding tightly on your back, chains and steel bars preventing your legs from moving, all you can do is just prey for your teammates to come.

At least you aren’t afraid, no fear of death, nor fear of pain. It’s always these moments that you feel grateful for having almost no feelings of pain, it makes you keep composed and adamant.

Well, starving kind of sucks though, you guess you’ll even devour those vegetables you hated and shoved into Kyle’s plate if it’s presented to you.

Your mind wanders, from your pudding hiding in the deepest part of the fridge in case someone (Soap) eats it, to how Price will scold your ears off for being too reckless when you’re back, until the footsteps outside the door remind you to concentrate.

Damn, you need to get out alive if you want to listen to your dear Captain recite the rules.

The door creaks open with the broad man stepping in and his dogs tailing after with weapons.

The cool water gets splashed on your face when the man stands still in front of you.

“New toy, yeah?” you spot the machete in the man’s grip

“Glad to see you awake, sergeant?” The man laughs “Seems like the mouth still works pretty well, I hope your mind is clear too so we can cooperate perfectly today.”

“Sober enough to tell you ‘no’, I guess”

Red pours from your shoulder the second after your taunt, and you frown slightly at the little sting.

“Fucking bitch still has a sharp tongue after these wounds...” He eyes down at you with a bit of disbelief.

Even though you can’t see yourself, you know you look like shit either. Burnings from the lighters, slash wounds from various tactical knives, dark bruises forming on your thigh and other parts after countless punches and kicks.

All you need to do is buy time, but even if you barely feel pain, you still will die from blood loss if this keeps going.

The rest of the interrogation is just adding more injuries to your broken body, and your consciousness starts fading.

You really want to take a nap... but will you wake up again? you’re not sure especially when another smash lands on the back of your head.

Just about minutes before you sure will pass out again, you hear the noise. Gunfire, yelling, screaming of a massacre.

They arrived...

“Go check what’s wrong.” The broad man gestures, and one of his subordinates walks out to

“Guess your saviors have come... now” You look straight into the man ’s eyes when he puts the muzzle between your eyes. “No time for playing, one last time, tell me the people gave you the intel.”

The chaos outside is getting louder and closer. Buy time, you tell yourself again, so you whisper

“Okay... Okay... I will tell you, please don’t kill me, please...” You sniff, and start sobbing while your head stays lowered.

“Finally giving up, huh? Tell me, I need their name, who do they belong.” The smirk on the man’s face gets wider, god, you really want to punch his face.

“It’s...” You murmur, and the man leans closer to hear clearly.

“It’s go fuck yourself, you bloody bastard.” You spit the blood on his face and grin like a maniac.

and the door swings open, the gunshot splatters the man’s blood on your face, but you don’t care.

You win.

“Hey, guys, long time no see.” You smile at your teammates after the man collapses beside you.

“You’re fine now, don’t worry, we got you.” Soap rushes to your side “Price is calling the exfil, Ghost and Gaz are outside making sure everything’s clear.”

“Thanks...” You melt into Soap’s arm when he unties the rope and carries you.

“I tell the bastard to go fuck himself, hehe.”

“Stop talking, bonnie, ye need to rest.”

“Did I do great?”

“Yes.” The gravel voice of Soap’s becomes softer as he answers.

“May I rest now?” you blink slowly.

“Of course, lassie.”

Getting the confirmation, The warmth radiating from Soap is too soothing, you want to tell him how much you miss them, but those words are unable to come out as you get dragged into a coma instantly.

“damn...”

Your eyelids flutter open, the familiar white ceiling is the first thing you see.

“Morning, bonnie, how do ye feel?”

“dizzy as fuck.”

“pain?”

“Nah.”

“Sometimes I think you’re not human...” Soap laughs, but he’s worried, or worried can’t describe his mood when he saw your wounds as you were sent into the infirmary.

That day when they back to base, all of them followed you, and didn’t pay any mind about getting their gears off first.

You looked like someone who just found her way out of hell, beautiful face swollen, large bruises spread across your skin like some nasty paintings, and the situation was worse than they expected after the medics cut your clothes off and started their evaluation.

Soap couldn’t forget the rage swallowing him like flames when he saw what you went through in those days, the more wounds they spotted, the more tension in the air became more insufferable.

Gaz and he cursed when they saw the huge burn on your back, skin obviously inflamed, and when the deep cuts that exposed the bones revealed from the cover, he noticed Ghost clenching his fist to suppress anger.

Price stormed out of the infirmary and called Laswell between the medics surmising how many of your bones were broken.

“Wait...” your voice pulls Soap back to reality “blahaj! 4 blahaj! Where do they come from?”

“Price gave them to you, as rewards for your hard work. He said you keep rambling about wanting to have one.”

“awwww” Soap grins as he watches you struggle to hug all of them at one time.

“There ya go.” He helps adjust the plushies so you can get them all in your arms.

“Oh yeah, where’s others?”

“Price’s on op, will be back in a week. Ghost and Gaz will visit you soon.”

“Hmmmm.”

You caress one of the blahaj’s head and turn your face

“Thank you.” you grin “For coming to save me.”

“What are you talking about?” Covering his hand on yours, he looks into your eyes, without those playful glints in his azure ones.

“We’re a team, or more than a team. Ye think we will throw ye there and do nothing?”

The seriousness on his face infatuates you, you meet his gaze without darting, and finally, break into tender giggles.

“yeah, sorry, you’re right.” You chuckle “You know what? In that basement, All I wanted was to get out of there and come back to eat my pudding.”

“Pudding?”

“Yeah, I have one in the fridge.” nodding in excitement, you continue “I should ask the doctor if I can eat it.”

“Wait that’s yours?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ehhh...” Soap’s smile freezes on his face under panic “I ate it.”

“...”

Soap MacTavish gets kicked out of the room with a new mission: buy 10 puddings.

When Gaz knocks on the door and steps into your ward, you are staring out the window, but turn to him immediately when you hear his arrival.

“Hey, Kyle.” You wave with your better hand.

“Feel better?” The sugar-coated smile he has always provides you with energy, your mood lights up as he takes the seat beside your bed.

“mmhmm, not that dizzy anymore.”

“loves those sharks very much?” He points at the blahajs you squeeze close to you.

“Damn, they’re my new babies now.” You show Gaz each of them.

“This is Pricey, this is Ghostie, this is Gazzy, and this is Soapy.” Proudly introducing them to Gaz, you give the sharkies a few pats.

“Such Innovative names, hm?”

“I don’t think Gaz is some special name too, Kyle.”

You both giggle at the stupid names you granted to the sharks, while Gaz lands his eyes on your arm hanging mid-air, his laughter gradually comes to a halt.

“Hey.” He watches you raise an eyebrow when he calls you “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Just...” His eyes stay on your bruises, traveling along them, and he hates that they lead his gaze to roam your whole figure. “We should be there faster.”

His brown eyes are full of distress when they meet yours again.

“Garrick, come closer.” You beckons, and he follows suit.

“Don’t apologize. When I saw all of you on that goddamn chair, I knew I was safe now.” You cradle his cheek in your palm “You guys are my shelter, my home, and I never thought the chance that my team wouldn’t save me, Soap said it yesterday, and I’m sure you’re the same, yes?”

“Of course.” His eyes soften, and you return him a reassuring smile when

“Time for you to go train the rookies, right?” Shooting a glimpse at the clock, you ask.

“yeah, time to deal with those troubles.” He stands up from the chair and looks down at you “See you, lovie.”

“see ya.”

You watch him walk towards the door, but stop after a few steps.

“Why does Soapy have a huge dent on his head?”

“Oh.” You pout “He ate my pudding, so I punched his shark since I can’t spar with him now.” another punch hit Soapy when you finish speaking.

“Wow...”

Gaz mourns for his brother’s future with his whole heart.

“Still awake?” The gruff yet gentle voice floats into your ear the moment the door slides open.

“Been sleeping the whole day, LT.”

Ghost watches you shift, and lies on your side to face him.

“How’s the day, Ghost?”

“Shit as usual.”

“How about seeing me, feel better?”

“Feels worse.”

“Hey, honesty is a virtue but not here.”

He scoffs at your retort as he observes your face.

“The bruises on your face look smaller.” Ghost indicates.

“Oh yeah, my face! How does it look like?” You point at the hand mirror Gaz brings you, and after Ghost hands it to you, you open the lid.

“Jesus Christ!” you shout when the reflection shows you how shit you look like “I’m so ugly right now!”

“We all know.”

“Damn, if there’s an award for honesty, you will be the winner, Simon.” You throw the mirror back into his grip.

“Will you congratulate me?”

“I will give you an ‘I’m a winner’ sticker for you to paste on your mask.”

He chuckles at your banter, but you can sense his exhaustion, from his limp body to his half-lid eyes.

“You’re tired, Simon. Go back to rest.” You coo softly.

“I’m not leaving until you sleep.”

“but I’m not that sleepy now.”

“Should I sing you a lullaby, sergeant?”

“I’m afraid that my ears don’t have the honor the hear your beautiful singing, Sir.” you feign an ‘oh hell no’ face to him, but your eyes light up when an idea comes to mind.

“Hey, how about you lie on my bed? it can fit 2 people.”

“I don’t know you’re such an active woman.”

“Fuck you, Simon. If you want me to fall asleep then get on the bed right now!”

Sighs in compromise, Ghost rises from the chair and sits on the edge of your bed with a grunt, and you scoot inward to leave him more space to lie down.

“You’re like a bear, Ghost, I’m gonna squash into a pie by you and the blahajs!”

“Then throw those bloody sharks on the floor.”

“No! they’re Tf141 blahaj!” You pet the one in your arms when Ghost gives you a confused face. “This is you, Ghost.”

“The real Ghost is beside you and you choose him over a fake one?”

“I don’t know you’re that active, lieutenant.”

You smirk at him, he’s only wearing a balaclava, so you’re able to see the corner of his eyes crinkle at your words.

But Ghost must have some magic, you grow sleepier under his presence, maybe it’s his steady breath sounds like a lullaby, or it’s because safety he always generously offers to you.

“Sleepy now?” He speaks slowly and quietly as if he’s fear of scaring your sleepiness away.

“a bit...” A big yawn answers the question better than your slurry voice.

“Close your eyes then.”

“mmm.”

You secure the Ghostie blahaj in a tight embrace as you follow Ghost’s command.

you feel light pats on your non-injured part, and you scoot closer to the bulky man, letting him lead you into a peaceful sleep.

Ghost watches you fall asleep, and he moves off the bed as gently as he can.

“Sweet dreams.” He chants in a low voice, and he takes other sharks in his hand, placing them closer to you.

Making sure the sharks are cuddling you, he leaves like a ghost in the serene silence.

You look down at yourself, ankles tied to the chair, blood dripping from the knife that’s barely in your sight.

Aren’t you already out of that basement...?

Is it all a dream? In reality, you’re still getting interrogated?

You try to fixate on the noise outside the door, but you feel the cold metal touching your forehead.

Am I never going to see them again? I want to see them again...

I want to hear Price’s praises, want to hear Soap and Gaz fighting over the last biscuit, want to hear Ghost’s annoyed voices at my frolic.

Tears gather in your eyes when you hear the click from turning off the safety of the gun.

“... geant...sergeant... sergeant.”

“Ahh!” You let out a yell as you snap your eyes open, which are wide with horror.

“Cap-Captain...” You pant whilst you recognize the person pulling you from your nightmare.

“Yes, it’s me, love. You’re safe now, you’re in the base, infirmary, remember?” He caresses your hair to calm you down.

Oh, yes, you aren’t in that basement. You’re back.

You’re with the people you love.

“Why are you here, Captain?” after you breathe steadily again, you notice it’s 1 am, and the aisle outside is silent.

“Just came back from the op, and want to see you.”

“You should have some rest, Price.”

“You mean I leave now even when you just woke up from a nightmare?” He crooks his eyebrows.

“Well...”

“Be selfish, love. I will stay here.”

“You don’t blame me for being too stupid and getting caught by the enemy?”

“Things went south sometimes.” He shakes his head “It’s not your fault.”

“...”

“Say it, luv.” He encourages you when you hesitate.

“I...” “I thought I was not afraid of anything... at least in that basement, pain’s not a big deal for me, starvation is bearable, and death... if that means I won’t lose to those dorks, then it’s nothing to me.”

Price gives you a grunt as acknowledgement, so you continue.

“but... I think I’m still afraid of dying...” You fidget your fingers “I want to see all of you again... I want to come back to you.”

“I don’t want to die...”

You haven’t noticed tears staining your cheeks until Price’s finger — calloused yet warm — wipes the tears away.

“We all know you’re brave, kid.” Price cups your face, hand barely touches your skin, must be avoiding trigger your pain, but you don’t care, nor you can feel the pain, you shove your cheek in it and earn a chuckle from the man.

“Your high pain tolerance makes you look forward to your target without worrying yourself, but keep in mind.”

“Don’t make us worry, you need to come back to us, we can’t lose you, just like you can lose us. Understood?”

“Yes, Capt.”

“You want to go back to sleep?”

“If you tell me a bedtime story, then I will.” the mischievous grin returns to your face.

“Greedy, eh? I thought those sharks could satisfy you.”

“I want your bedtime story too.”

“How about I tell you a story about how to become an attentive soldier?”

“Fuck you, Captain.”

You hit Price with the plushie, which he catches easily, and put it on his lap, letting you give the shark little punches to drain your excessive energy, as he starts telling what happened when he met Soap the first time.

You aren’t afraid of pain, and you become an undaunted person on the battlefield. Yet still, you now keep in mind that there are people who love you, and are worried about you.

You all are a team, a home, and a haven for each other, always by each other’s side, or waiting for others to return safely.

and it’s really nice to be able to come back home.

a/n: thanks for reading! and thank you sharkie for the request, I hope you will like it (or not too disappointed) !! :D

Have a nice day/night, everyone!

[mariasont]

Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H

a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader

summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo

wc: 2.3k

You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.

You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office. 

And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks. 

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?

"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."

Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things. 

"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."

Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.

The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door. 

You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.

He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything. 

Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them. 

You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people. 

Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation. 

Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.

It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.

Hi honey. What time are you coming over?

You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest. 

so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo

You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.

Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.

You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.

no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!

Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color. 

i look & sound disgustinggg rn

I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.

I want to see your pretty face.

you can be so flattering when u want to mister!

im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?

Hmm, okay.

love u! xoxo

I love you too, pretty girl.

You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic. 

You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.

The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.

Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.

You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.

At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood. 

Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"

The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray. 

He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."

You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."

A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.

His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."

The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming. 

You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm. 

You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"

"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.

"Do you want help?"

The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?

 "Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.

You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.

"How was your day?"

You wince internally at the automatic question. 

"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."

Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?

"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost. 

He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."

You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.

Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."

Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."

You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."

"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."

"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."

"It's silly."

He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."

That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.

"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"

"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You draw in a breath.

His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.

"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."

"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."

"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."

"Oh."

"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"

You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."

taglist: @hotchhner

[adriennebarnes]

Meet The Family

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles decided it was a good idea to meet Y/N’s parents before his next Grand Prix, and it turned into meeting the entire extended family.

Warning: bad writing, spelling and grammatical errors, Spanish

A/N: this is the first time we have an established relationship between Charles and Y/N, yay! Their meet cute is inspired by how Billy and Camila met in the show Daisy Jones and The Six

Y/N met Charles at the supermarket in Monaco. Charles was in the produce aisle when someone came behind him.

“Hi, excuse me, can you…?” Y/N started and Charles turned around.

“Sign something for you? Um, I don’t have a pen, do you have one?” Charles asked.

“Uh, I was going to ask if you could move over so I could get some spinach. Or if you could grab the spinach for me, either way, I just need spinach.” Y/N said. Charles felt embarrassed and handed Y/N the spinach. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, but you don’t know who I am?” Charles asked.

“Should I? I’m not from here.” Y/N said.

“I could tell by the American accent. I’m Charles Leclerc.” Charles put his hand out and Y/N shook it.

“Y/N L/N. So tell me, Charles Leclerc, why should I be asking for you to sign something?” Y/N asked teasingly.

“Sorry about that, I swear I am not conceited, it’s just a lot of people in Monaco know me for what I do and I’m always approached with things to sign.” Charles said.

“Okay, and what do you do?” Y/N asked.

“I’m a formula 1 Scuderia Ferrari race car driver.” Charles said. Him and Y/N started walking around the supermarket together, not wanting to block anyone.

“Ooh wow, a race car driver, that’s pretty big. I’m not really into sports in that way. I could bump into a New York Yankee back home and not even know it.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. “So tell me why are you here at the supermarket? I assume you would have a private chef that takes care of all the cooking and grocery shopping.” Y/N said.

“You would think that, but I mainly have to cook for myself. I am on a strict diet so I have to buy whatever Andrea tells me I should buy.” Charles commented.

“Who’s Andrea?” Y/N asked.

“My personal trainer.” Charles said.

“Makes sense, you are a high performance athlete after all. I gotta continue my shopping, but it was nice meeting you.” Y/N was going to walk away when Charles held on to her wrist gently.

“Before you leave, how about you give me your number. I could invite you to a race and make a formula 1 fan out of you.” Charles suggested.

“Wow, has that line ever worked?” Y/N asked.

“You tell me, this is the first time I’m using it.” Charles said. Y/N smiled, very flattered that the good looking monegasque wants her number.

“It’s working, i think it’s because of your eyes, maybe a little because of your dimples, but mainly that accent.” Y/N says, Charles gives Y/N his phones and she added her number.

“Remember that you’re the one with the accent in Monaco.” Charles said. Y/N gave him his phone back and Charles checked the contact information. “Let me take a photo of you for your contact.” Charles said, Y/N nodded and pose for the photo. “Beautiful, I’ll text you later.” Charles said and Y/N waved goodbye before heading to a different part of the supermarket to get what she needed.

Now it’s 6 months later, Y/N is definitely a Formula 1 fan, always rooting for Ferrari, but she’s also rooting for Checo and McLaren. Y/N was in her apartment cooking when she heard the door open and it was Charles with his luggage.

“Muñeco, did you come here from the airport? I thought you were going to come back tomorrow.” Y/N said, approaching him to kiss his cheek and help him inside.

“I was, but I have a surprise for you. You know how you said you’ve been missing your parents?” Charles asked.

“And New York in general, but continue,” Y/N said.

“Well i have arranged for us to go to New York and I can meet your parents.” Charles said and Y/N stayed silent. “You don’t like the surprise, chéri?” Charles asked sadly.

“No no no, it’s not that, it’s just…I never told my parents I had a boyfriend.” Y/N admitted as she walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

“What? They don’t know about us?” Charles asked. “How do they not know about us?”

“Well they don’t follow me on social media, obviously, and I don’t really call them often because if the time difference.” Y/N said, stirring the pot of pasta.

“Are you sure you miss your parents?” Charles teased and Y/N hit his shoulder playfully.

“I do, i miss my mom’s cooking, you have no idea how much I miss my mom’s lomo saltado. It sucks that your strict diet doesn’t allow you to eat some of the more delicious meals from my culture.” Y/N said,

“You and food. You think you can call them today and tell them about me?” Charles asked.

“Once it hits like 4pm over there, I’ll call. My parents should be home by 3 but I want them to chill a little before I bombard them with a monegasque boyfriend.” Y/N said.

“Would it be a FaceTime call or a regular phone call? Should I be with you when you tell them? I am so nervous.” Charles admitted.

“You’ve had other girlfriends before.” Y/N said.

“Yes, but I already knew their parents one way or another, do you know how small Monaco is?” Charles asked.

“I’m aware. I’ll call them and let you know when to come in and say hello.” Y/N said.

“Sounds good. I’ll stay and eat with you. I’ll stay until our flight to New York.” Charles said.

“When is our flight?” Y/N asked.

“In 3 days.” Charles said.

“Okay, that gives me enough time to pack. Are we flying private?” Y/N asked.

“Oh darling, of course we are.” Charles said.

After eating, they were watching a movie and Y/N checked the time, it was 10pm, it was 4pm in New York.

“Hey muñeco, Im gonna call my mom, okay.” Y/N said. Charles nodded, moving away from her on the couch. Y/N FaceTimed her mom, waiting a few second until she picked up.

“Mi niña, y este milagro? Por qué me estás llamando? Pasó algo malo?” My girl, and this miracle? Why are you calling me? Did something bad happened? Y/N’s mom, Elena, asked worriedly.

“Ay Mami, no pasó nada malo, te lo juro. Papi está contigo?” Oh mom, nothing bad happened, i swear. Is dad with you? Y/N asked.

“Eh sí, permítame un segundo. Enrique! Ven, tu hija nos está llamando!” Uh yeah, give me a second. Come, your daughter is calling us! Elena yelled and Enrique came into frame.

“Hija, cómo estás? Que milagro que nos estás llamado.” How are you? It’s a miracle you’re calling us Enrique said, Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sí lo sé, es un milagro, pero les estoy llamando porque tengo noticias. Tengo novio.” Yeah, I know, it’s a miracle, but I’m calling you because I have news. I have a boyfriend Y/N said.

“Mira eso, otro milagro.” Elena said. “Y cómo se llama, que hace?” Look at that, another miracle. What’s his name, what does he do?

“Eh, pues aquí está. Charles, come introduce yourself.” Oh well, he’s here Y/N turned her phone so Charles is in frame.

“Eh hola, me llamo Charles Leclerc.” Charles leaned into Y/N’s ear and whispered “they speak English, right?”

“Yes, we speak English, Chuck.” Enrique said.

“Its Charles.” Charles corrects.

“Bueno Charles, what do you do?” Enrique asked.

“I am a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.” Charles said.

“Anyway, les llamé para decirles que vamos a visitarlos en unos días. Así puedes conocer a mi novio mejor, él de verdad quiere conocerlos, no sabes lo emocionado que estaba cuando me dijo sobre el viaje.” I called to tell you guys that we will be visiting you for a few days. Like that you could get to know my boyfriend better, he really wants to meet you, you don’t know how excited he was when he told me about the trip. Y/N said.

“Está bien, vamos a preparar tu cuarto para que pueden venir, adiós, mi niña.” Alright, we’ll set up your room so you can come over, bye. Elena said and she hung up.

“They hate me, don’t they.” Charles said.

“You are the first boyfriend I ever told them about. You are my first boyfriend so it’s normal.” Y/N said.

“You have no idea how much I love being your first.” Charles kissed her. “Do you think I’ll be able to win over your parents?”

“I think you will, what’s not to love about you? Beside the fact that you don’t put on sunscreen.” Y/N said

“Ha ha, mon ange. I have a good feeling about this trip, it’ll be fun to see where you grew up.” Charles said.

Charles and Y/N we’re on the plane to New York.

“Do you think your parents would like these gifts? I’m having second thoughts.” Charles said.

“Muñeco, please calm down. My mom has always wanted a Dior bag and I’m sure my dad would appreciate that Rolex you got him.” Y/N said.

“Maybe I should have got him a Richard Mille, it would be like a statement, ‘i make enough money for your daughter to never work again’, I think all parents want that for their daughter,” Charles said.

“Well they also don’t want me to depend on a man so the Rolex is perfect. A little bit about my parents, my mom, Elena, is a housekeeper, my dad, Enrique, is a City worker, he’s an electrical engineer. My mom loves handbags, she has a whole collection which we usually get from the outlet mall. Both my parents grew up ‘poor’ back in their countries, but it’s all good now, they’re working class people. My dad is really into cars so maybe you could talk to him about that.” Y/N said. Charles was typing on his phone. “Are you taking notes?” Y/N giggled.

“Yes! I’ve never been this nervous before,” Charles confessed.

“Relax, muñeco, they are going to love you.” Y/N kissed him, hoping he would relax. Charles pulled Y/N onto his lap and they stayed like that for the rest of their flight.

Charles got a rental car from the airport, he chose an Audi, and drove to her parents’ place.

“You couldn’t have picked a cheaper car?” Y/N asked.

“Compared to what I drive, mon ange, this is the cheapest car I could have rented.” Charles said, parking the car.

“Nope, I’m parking, get out.” Y/N said, taking her seatbelt off.

“My parking is getting better.” Charles said, getting out of the car.

“It’s still not good, muñeco.” Y/N said. She got into the driver seat and parked the car, she got out of the car. “Can you get our bags, cariño?” Y/N asked. Charles kissed her before opening the trunk to get their bags. They made it up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal Elena.

“Ay, mi niña, It’s si good to see you again. Come in, come in, leave your stuff, we were just leaving.” Elena said, moving to the side, Y/N and Charles walked into the house.

“What? What do you mean you were just leaving?” Y/N asked. Charles left their luggage in the living room and sat on the couch while Y/N and Elena talked in the entrance.

“It’s Saturday, princesa, your Tia Hilda is having a carne asada to celebrate her son graduating high school.” Elena said.

“But mom, can you please get to know him first before we go? We are always early and I know you hate helping Tia Hilda with the decorations.” Y/N said.

“Tienes razón. So Charles, tell me about yourself. Enrique!” Elena said, walking into the living room, sitting on a chair opposite of the couch. Y/N sat beside Charles.

“Well i am 26 years old.” Charles started.

“Really? Y/N here is only 21.” Elena said. Enrique walked in and sat on the other chair.

“Yes, I know Mrs. L/N, but we have a lot in common and I believe we are good for each other.” Charles said, holding Y/N’s hand.

“Interesting. When you were dating Giada and Charlotte…” Enrique started.

“Papi!” Y/N exclaimed, surprised that her dad would look up Charles’s dating history.

“Did you say the same thing to their parents?” Enrique finished.

“With all due respect, sir, each relationship is different, those relationships were in different points of my life. I don’t see myself breaking up with Y/N any time soon. For right now, she is what I need in my life, she understands me, comforts me, she feels like home. I guarantee that anything Y/N has wanted I have to her, but she doesn’t depend on me for anything. De verdad amo su hija y espero que nos podemos llevar bien.” I truly love your daughter and I hope that we could get along Charles said. “My teammate and friend is Spanish so I learned a little. I learned more when I started dating Y/N.” Y/N looks at him with heart eyes, she is so in love with him.

“You seem like a good guy, it was really big of you to come all the way to New York to meet us.” Enrique said,

“Thank you, I actually have gifts for you.” Charles said, opening the luggage to pull out the Rolex to give to Enrique and the Dior bag for Elena,

“Oh it is beautiful, thank you, Charles. Now let’s go to the carne asada, Y/N, tell him how to get there, we’ll see you in a few.” Elena said, putting the bag away while Enrique puts on the watch. Y/N’s parents left the house and Y/N starts looking for her house keys.

“Found them, let’s go.” Y/N said, they left the house and locked the door,

“Mon ange, I barely survived meeting your parents, do you really think I can meet your entire family?” Charles asked, they started walking to the car.

“I believe in you, oh and you can’t say you’re on a diet, that’s offensive.” Y/N said, getting into the car.

“What?” Charles asked as he got in the car.

“You’re gonna have to eat what they’re serving, I’m sorry, you’re eating rice, grilled steak, chicken, ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs, shrimp if we’re lucky, you’re break your diet today.” Y/N said.

“Ugh, Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles started the car and followed Y/N’s direction to the house.

“Yay we made it, I wonder if Christina is here.” Y/N said, getting out of the car after she parked it.

“Who’s Christina?” Charles asked,

“My cousin. Well, my mom’s friend’s daughter, I call her my cousin.” Y/N said. She opened the gate to enter through the backyard,

“You just open the gate?” Charles asked, closing the gate behind him.

“Yes.” Y/N said looking at him, she then saw some cousins and aunts and uncles. “Hola hola!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Y/N!” The family shouted, all of them getting closer to her for a hug.

“Quien es el güero?” Her Uncle Hernando.

“El güero es mi novio, this is Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said. She heard a scream.

“No way, you’re dating Charles Leclerc, you could have told me.” Her cousin said,

“Charles, this is Christina, my cousin, he’s an F1 fan.” Y/N introduced them,

“It’s nice to meet you, Christina.” Charles said, shaking her hand,

“Oh my gosh, I am such a huge fan. When Lewis becomes your teammate, can you bring him over? Like Can that happen?” Christina asked.

“Maybe, I’ll ask the next time we plan on coming to New York,” Charles said.

“Yes! I made picarones, we’re supposed to have them later but I guess I can make an exception for il predestinato.” Christina said, leaving them to get a picaron.

“You’re gonna like it, it’s so good, she better bring me one.” Y/N said, a few moments later, Christina came with the picarón. Charles took a bite,

“Mm, it’s delicious.” Charles said, moving the picarón to Y/N so she could get a bite.

“Mm, best batch yet, Chris,” Y/N said,

“Thank you, I’ve been practicing,” Christina said.

“Everyone, it’s time to eat!” Archie, Hilda’s husband.

“Okay so don’t serve yourself the sauce, please don’t, okay?” Y/N said,

“Why not?” Charles asked, sitting at the table,

“Because it’s spicy.” Y/N said.

“I like spicy food, chéri.” Charles said.

“This is Mexican spicy, not white people spicy.” Y/N said.

“I think I can handle it, I’m gonna have some rice and shrimp off the grill.” Charles said, getting up to get a plate and serve himself some Mexican rice, grilled shrimp, and added salsa on the shrimp. He sat down and took a bite of the shrimp. “Hm, it good.” Charles started coughing and fanning his tongue. Y/N stifled her laugh while standing up to get a beer from the cooler. She opened the bottle and gave it to Charles who’s eyes were tearing up.

“Are you okay, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“Why is it so spicy?” Charles asked.

“I think Monica was angry when making it.” Uncle Eduardo said. Monica hit his shoulder.

“I wasn’t angry.” Monica said, taking a chip to dip in the sauce. “This is good, I don’t know what y’all are talking about,” Monica said.

“So Charles, you drive for Scuderia Ferrari? You must be away a lot.” Archie said.

“Yeah, I’m away a lot, but Y/N comes with me to some of the races when she can.” Charles said, sipping the beer.

“Yes, the Suzuka Grand Prix was great, loved walking around Japan, was so much fun.” Y/N said, eating food.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Archie said.

“Yeah, and next weekend we will be in Spain.” Charles commented.

“You think you’ll win?” Mauricio, a cousin, asked.

“I hope I win, but it’s more than certain that Max will be in P1.” Charles admitted.

When they were finished eating, Charles played soccer with Y/N’s younger cousins, letting the younger cousins win.

“He’s really good with kids.” Christian told Y/N.

“You’ve seen all those posts about him with kids, it’s no surprise.” Y/N said.

“You seem really happy with him.” Christina commented.

“I am. I was worried about him meeting everyone, but I think it turned out better than I imagined,” Y/N said, watching the little kids tackling Charles to the ground and he’s just laughing.

The carne asada ended and Charles and Y/N were in the car.

“I think your family likes me. I’ve been invited over for Christmas.” Charles said and Y/N laughed.

“You think your mom would be okay with you spending Christmas in New York?” Y/N asked.

“Well she could come with us, and Arthur, Lorenzo, Charlotte, I want our families to meet each other.” Charles said.

“All in due time, muñeco.” Y/N said.

“I like when you call me muñeco.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.

“Okay, muñeco, let’s go, my parents are probably waiting for us.” Y/N said, Charles kissed her one more time before driving home.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Comments are appreciated, let me know if you want to be tagged in future one shots

Tag: @prettypink11

[aouiaa]

Gymrat! Abby hcs

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who wakes up at six in the morning, just to shower and go to the gym.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s loud getting ready in the morning even when she tries so hard to not be.

With a groan, you begin to stirr in bed from the blender being turnt on.

You already know who it is—Abby and her little fucking protein shakes.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby whose protein shake recipes actually hit.

You couldn’t sleep, even after the blender was long turnt off, and the fact you closed your eyes to desperately fall back to sleep. But you accepted failure as the outcome and get out of bed.

Trudging out the bedroom and into the kitchen with a frown on your face. You’re met with smiling Abby as she just finishes downing her drink.

Her hair is in much better shape than yours. In her infamous braid, work out clothes, and when she sees you, her smile morphes into an “o” shape, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You roll your eyes at the obvious question and waddle past her grumbling something about…protein shakes?

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who makes you try her protein shakes and waits like this. And who’s visibly happy when you hum in approval. And who’s worried when you don’t, always asking, “What does it need?”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who does everything in her power to be quiet. Even once tried looking up ways to sound proof the room, but realized how expensive it was. Should’ve seen the big frown on her face staring down at her phone. Poor girl… :(

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who has two alarms one five minutes before her actual alarm.

And why would Gymrat! Abby has this second secretive alarm? It’s to have those five minutes to cuddle you.

You remember the first time it happened. You jolt awake to the sound of her alarm going off to which she quickly turnt off and turn on her side, wrapping her beefy arms around you, pulling you to her chest.

A groan escapes your lips to which Abby presses light kisses to your neck, “I know, sorry, bae.” she whisper in your ear. And it still shocks Abby to this day that you haven’t caught on. Maybe because you’re just a big sleepyhead. Her words…

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who has multiple names for you when she does wake you up by accident.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, sunshine.”

All with a big stupid smile on her face.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who brings you flowers time to time.

“Awe, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for my girl.”

“Wait…” you trail off, and stop sniffing the flowers. “Orchids? Wait, is this to make up for waking me up today?”

“Uhm, what? No? I can’t get my girl some flowers?” she says nervously, scratching the back of her head.

Gymrat! Abby who mostly did buy them to make up for waking you up, but also brought them for the beautifulest girl in the world.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who doesn’t let you come near her when she’s back from the gym, and who is very very dramatic about it.

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when the front door opens to reveal a very sweaty Abby. Instinctually, you get up and greet her with a kiss and hug or at least try to.

You’re not met with requited love instead a squeal. You open your eyes and laugh at the sound, to see abby moving back, dropping her gym bag.

“No touching or…kissing.” she says “kissing” in a disappointed tone, “Until I’ve showered!”

You roll your eyes at the reprimand, “Oh cmon, I’ve smelt you. You don’t even stink…that bad.” You attempt walk to toward her again, but she skips back—almost bumping into your favorite vase—with another squeal, “Y/n! I’m being serious!”

“And I am too!”

In the end, she practically ran into the bathroom, leaving you in the hallway with a pout which she later kissed away after her shower of course.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who actually invites you to the gym with her, but you can’t even workout. Instead watch the work out.

(See what I did there?)

You watch her do bench presses, and with every lift comes a grunt with it.

You watch from the sidelines—basically being her water girl at this point—as she finishes her reps.

“Thanks bae.” she says, out of breath as she grabs the water from your hand.

You don’t even respond back, just with a stupid giddy smile on your face as you stare down at her, wondering how are you supposed to work out when she’s here?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s basically your personal trainer when you do work out. Cheering you on and helping you only when necessary.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who secretly hopes you start coming to the gym with her more often. She always enjoys the company especially from you.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby being completely different towards you and her friends at the gym. With you, she’s so calm and sweet. But with her friends she’s so energetic and always challenging her friend Manny to some pull-up contest to prove something about being stronger?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big baby when she has her resting days, always wanting cuddles and massages.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who whines and holds you down when you try to get up.

“Abby! I neee to pee!”

“Nooo, five more minutes.” she groans before stuffing her face into your chest.

“Fine, five more minutes.”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who calls out for you when she does finally let you pee. You constantly have to say, “I’m coming!” or “One second!” like a mother reassuring their wailing offspring that they’re coming with their bottle.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who’s fyp whether on instagram or tiktok is filled with gym videos, or tips on new proteins recipes.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big foodie!

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who was full on laughing when on Christmas when she got a blender with a protective sound proof shield on it.

“Holy shit, bae. You really got me one!” she says in between laughter while holding the blender in hand.

You can barely hold in your laughter as you nod, “Yup, now you can’t wake me up.”

“Awee.” She says, sounding bummed out.

Gymrat! Abby who does love the gym, but loves her girlfriend more.

How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.

a/n: Onward to Dina hcs!

Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld @marsworlddd, @bready101

[notmyneighbor]

A New Neighbor - Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader, Francis Mosses x Nacha Mikaelys

Chapter 1

Word Count - 6.5k

Rating - Explicit

Content Warnings - cheating, pervert Francis Mosses, reader is an 18 yo highschool student and the new babysitter, fondling, masturbation

Also available on AO3

taglist - @kaislashes @unicorngirly1

Things aren’t going well with Francis Mosses’ girlfriend Nacha Mikaelys.

The milkman is trying to make things work; he truly sees it that way. Their daughter Anastacha certainly wasn’t planned, but he’s not the type to shirk his duties. An unwed mother carries a certain stigma and it’s not really fair when he’s partly responsible for the situation they’re in. So they’d moved in together. Claimed they were engaged to be married, though it was clear neither of them had any intentions of tying the knot. The resentment on both sides is clear. This was never supposed to be a long term, committed relationship. They weren’t particularly compatible. Yet here they are. Friends at the best of times, but those times were coming fewer and farther between. More like roommates that tolerated each other now. Barely tolerated. Conversations strained. Tempers short. He feels like he was suffocating, trapped. He knows she feels the same way.

Nacha wants to resume her career as a chef now that Anastacha is in elementary school, and that means a babysitter will be required to make up the gap between Francis and his girlfriend’s upcoming shifts. He’s not so much a product of his time that he doesn’t believe in women working outside the home; he actually thinks it will be good for her to pursue something she enjoys. So he readily agrees to the idea, wondering whom they’re going to hire.

These are difficult times.

Trust is hard to come by, when you don’t know whether the face you’re staring at is really your neighbor or not. The doppelgänger situation wasn’t just something you heard about on the news in some distant city anymore. It was here. It was real. Just last week someone downstairs had been killed, the previous doorman guarding the entrance a little too lax in his duties.

The demand to inhabit a DDD secured residence was high no matter how derelict in their duties the individual screening at the door was, and Francis had heard through the rumor mill of the crowded building that a father and his daughter were already moving in. He was a college professor. She was an older teenager, eighteen, finishing up highschool. She might be a good option to watch Ana. He’d have to meet her and see. He’s sure Nacha will want to as well.

Today is the day the new residents are moving in, he thinks. Or was it Wednesday they were slated to take up residence? Wait, was today already Wednesday?

Francis rubs the bridge of his nose and massages his tired eyes. He’s almost done his delivery route. Not even his busiest day, the schedule almost half of what it will be tomorrow, and he already can’t wait for it to be over. He’ll stop by to introduce himself on the way home, get a feel for things. At the very least it was the proper thing to do, welcoming someone to the neighborhood. If things didn’t work out, well, they’d just have to keep looking for a babysitter.

***

Francis always takes the elevator when he returns from his shift.

The thought of climbing up three flights of stairs just doesn’t appeal to him most days. Not after so many deliveries. He supposes he should be glad so many people still lacked proper refrigeration and relied on him for fresh dairy products. Job security, they called it. He used to have to solicit customers, years ago. It was an expected part of the job. The invasion had changed all of that, though. Demand more than enough without seeking additional business. It wasn’t even about convenience anymore. People were becoming more and more afraid of leaving their homes.

A heck of a lot riskier than it used to be, visiting so many residences. You never knew who—what—was really on the other side of the door nowadays. Before, he used to complain about having to collect payment from customers that were behind. Now that task seemed paltry in comparison to the daring just delivering goods involved. Even the increased pay doesn’t quite cancel out the threat of the doppelgängers lurking around every corner.

He actually forgets to present his entry request that afternoon after fumbling his ID card out of his wallet, a battered leather billfold that’s seen better days but he can’t be bothered wasting money to replace it. Besides, it takes time to break a new one in. This one is creased and comfortable. It had lasted him this long, it would service him a little longer.

The new doorman frowns suspiciously and he hurriedly reaches for his clipboard, sliding the request free from its position tucked at the very back of his address list. He tries a smile that is not returned, the DDD’s recently hired guard perusing the offered document before squinting at something just to the left of the window. He knows he’s on the day’s expected entry list, so he’s not worried about that. But he did already arouse suspicion, neglecting to present his excuse for his departure from the apartment building. He hears the receiver of the black rotary phone lifting and his heart sinks. The doorman really isn’t buying that he was just a milkman returning home from work. A very human, normal person.

Francis tucks his clipboard back under his arm, his free hand tapping nervously against his work pants. He can hear the dial tone, the lack of a response. Of course no one was home. Still a relief, though. If the doorman had inadvertently already let a doppel in, a stranger wearing his face now taking up his residence, lying in wait, while he himself was condemned to execution by the DDD disposal team…he shudders to think of that scenario.

Without a word his identification card is slid back to him, the request filed away. It seemed silly to have to keep making them out on a daily basis, but that was the procedure. He hears the door buzzer signaling he’s free to enter the building and he sighs in relief again, nodding gratefully before ducking through.

The elevator doors slide open and the tired delivery driver steps inside the carriage and presses the button for the third floor out of habit, leaning slightly against the rear wall of the car. He’s really exhausted today, and the week is only halfway done. Maybe he should have a few customers taken off his route.

Wait. Had he pressed the third floor button? He was supposed to be going to the second, to meet the new neighbors. With a mournful sigh he thumbs the correct button and the doors close, shielding his view of the familiar stretch of navy blue doors on the floor he resides on. Every floor was similarly color coded: pistachio green for first, tangerine orange for third. He doesn’t think there’s any real significance to the chosen palette. Every apartment was furnished identically as well, everything provided with utilitarian pieces. In some respects, he thinks it makes things a lot easier. Nacha didn’t agree. She insists on adding decor and personal touches to make it feel unique, more like their own. He lets her have free reign over that department; he hardly has any decorating expertise. If it was entirely up to him, his sole decision would be to leave it just as it was when he’d moved in. Simple was best.

The elevator doors part on the correct floor this time, and he immediately sees a pile of boxes and luggage outside a door just across from the elevator. So the rumor mill had been correct. Today was the day.

Moving boxes is the last thing the tired delivery driver feels like doing just then, but it’s as good a way as any to break the ice. He raps his knuckles on the edge of the moulding, announcing his arrival. The door opens and he’s greeted by a pleasant looking middle aged man who looks very confused to be greeted by an empty handed milkman.

“I didn’t order anything…”

“Oh! No, I’m sorry. I’m not here for a delivery. I just got home from work and wanted to introduce myself. My name is Francis Mosses. I live upstairs with my girlfriend and daughter.” He offers a hand and the man shakes it. He has a strong, confident grip and an easy smile.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Need a hand with this?” He gestures towards the stack beside him.

“That’s very kind of you, but you certainly aren’t obligated to.”

“Not a problem. Moving is a big job. Is your daughter here?” He asks curiously, lifting one of the suitcases and wincing a little at the unexpected weight.

“No, she’s in school. She’s a very dedicated student. It’s fortunate we’re still close enough to where we lived before so she didn’t have to transfer to another so late in the school year. She’ll be home soon. That’s her luggage you've got there,” he adds, looking sympathetic.

“Feels like she packed everything and the kitchen sink,” Francis jokes, and the man cracks another smile. He likes him already. Hopefully the daughter would prove just as affable.

“Just set that in the living room for now. I apologize for the mess,” he says over his shoulder. “My daughter is the one for the knack with organizing things. Must have gotten it from her mother, God rest her soul. Lost her during childbirth. It’s always just been the two of us. I could never quite bring myself to move on,” he adds softly.

The third floor resident offers a sympathetic sound, waving away the man’s concerns before he heaves the heavy suitcase onto the couch. If he knows anything about women, he imagines it’s jam packed with clothing. Nacha’s outfits took up more than half of the closet in the bedroom. It’s a good thing he didn’t have a large wardrobe himself.

Francis returns to the hallway and he and the new neighbor steadily begin demolishing the pile, chatting amicably. He doesn’t envy the man the task of unpacking all of this. He isn’t even sure they’ll be room for this much stuff. The apartments were moderately sized.

“Ah, here she is! This is our neighbor from upstairs, Mr. Francis Mosses.” The introduction accompanies your entrance through the front door, the backpack hooked over one shoulder settled beside the luggage on the couch before turning your attention to the visitor.

You shake the stranger’s hand and survey the state of the interior of the new living space, looking a bit overwhelmed. “Dad, I told you to wait. I was going to help,” you say, and he can hear the good natured, long suffering patience you must have to exhibit living with the widow in your tone.

“I know, I just wanted to get a head start.”

“Just wait before you touch anything else, okay?” It sounds like the roles are reversed, with you being the mature adult and your father looking the part of the bashful child. You smile apologetically at the milkman, making for the boxes lining the kitchen counter first. “I’m sorry we don’t have anything to offer you, we still need to pick up groceries. Just seemed foolish to have even more things to carry. Worried about food spoiling, you know…” Your voice trails off as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind one ear. Well mannered. Pretty. You had a nice smile. Nice everything if Francis was being honest, but he was very firmly trying to deny his initial assessment of your appearance as you’d walked through the door wearing a school uniform, still trying to conceal how much he was admiring the shape of your figure in a plaid skirt that was maybe a touch too short, the way the button front white blouse and navy cardigan hugged your curves so neatly.

Or maybe it wasn’t too short at all. Maybe it was just the right length, he thinks, watching you bend over to pick something up your father had dropped, stubbornly ignoring your advice and diving into the contents of one of the boxes.

Jesus, Francis. Perverted much?

It had been awhile since he’d last been intimate with Nacha. A long time. So far back he can’t even remember. That part of their relationship had just fizzled after the baby, becoming a rare occurrence if they both just happened to be in the mood. More a matter of convenience and availability, certainly nothing romantic or passionate. And now here he was, lusting after a girl he didn’t even know who was barely into adulthood. Someone he’d intended on asking to watch his own child.

“I, um, don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to say hi. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks for stopping by. And the assistance. Extend our greetings to your girlfriend and daughter.”

“I’ll do that.”

Did you look a little displeased when your father mentioned these two females you lived with? Or had he only imagined that scowl that was there and gone fast as a passing summer rainstorm?

“See you around,” you call after him, and the milkman cannot get on the elevator fast enough, hurriedly pressing the button to return him to the third floor.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

***

Nacha visits the new neighbors before the week ends, inviting them to dinner.

Francis hasn’t said much about his first impressions. His girlfriend certainly seemed to approve. She never invited people over.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it had just been a fluke. Just raging hormones and unsatisfied needs making him react that way.

It had been the guiltiest jerk off he’d ever had in his life after meeting you for the first time.

The only saving grace was he was home alone when he’d done it. Thankfully Nacha had been out visiting her parents with Anastacha at the time. A rare moment of peace and quiet that had instantly filled with thoughts of you. Very inappropriate thoughts.

He’d still locked himself in the bathroom, just to be on the safe side. She wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours according to the note, but still, better to be safe than sorry.

Stupid, waiting to clean the pipes this long. No wonder….fuck.

When you had bent over to retrieve whatever kitchen utensil your father had clumsily dropped…That image alone would have been enough, but his mind is already shoving that innocent movement into something much more depraved, with you bent over in front of him instead. His cock had already been flushed and leaking when he’d dragged it free of its enclosure, stroking the sensitive organ and hissing in pleasure. It was so hot. He was on fire. Those sexy lips of yours. Maybe he wants you on your knees in front of him instead, wrapping that mouth over his prick. Choking you on it. It wasn’t bragging, simply stating a fact. He knows he’s larger than average, thicker and longer than many. Girls had always been surprised and appreciative. He’d love to see the look on your face the first time he exposed himself to you. He’d wondered if you had a boyfriend. How far you’ve gone. Still a virgin, maybe? Waiting for marriage like a good girl?

Fuck. He’d been throbbing. There was no way he’d been able to prolong the session. He’d fucked his hand wishing it was yours, any part of you, envisioning bathing you in a load that jets out in reality moments later, thick creamy wads spurting onto the bathroom sink. His free hand grips the counter in a white knuckled grasp and he looks at his appearance in the mirror while his hips still spasm even after he’s removed his hand from his pulsing cock. Flushed. Perspiring. The almost bruised looking smudges beneath each lower eyelid now underlining blown pupils. He should have been ashamed.

It had only made him want you more.

***

“How are you enjoying the apartment so far?”

Nacha had cooked enough food for an army, crowding the table with dish after dish. For all her flaws, Francis couldn’t deny she had true culinary talent. Baking was her passion; that’s how they had met, in fact. Delivering dairy products to the shop she’d worked at. A little flirting on both sides. And then, well…

“Still getting settled, but it’s been good so far. A much safer neighborhood than where we lived previously,” the college professor remarks, responding to the hostess’ query.

“The new doorman seems to be very strict. I feel a lot safer,” she agrees, cutting into the casserole on her plate and mulling over the bite. It was a habit for her. She always took her time eating, judging what ingredients she’d used, deciding what worked and what could be improved upon.

“Can I have some more juice, Mommy?”

“When you’ve finished what you have, yes.”

Ana quickly polishes off the contents of her glass. She’s been staring at their female visitor all throughout dinner, clearly fascinated by the older girl.

“I’ve got it,” you say, offering to refill the child’s glass. She smiles and Ana breaks into a grin that’s in that awkward transitioning stage between baby and adult teeth, a few gaps noted here and there. You were already getting along so well.

Francis had been hoping you wouldn’t. It would make things so much easier. Removing temptation. No need to ever go to the second floor again. Perhaps there would be the occasional paths crossed on the elevator, but that would be it.

He has barely spoken the entire time. He’s very pointedly not looking at you in the pretty floral button front dress you’re wearing, your hair freshly styled, skin natural and clear of makeup, just the way he likes. Nacha always wore such dark lipstick and heavy mascara, attempting to cover her freckles with powder and concealer. He wishes she wouldn’t. He’s mentioned it before, as politely as he can. But she doesn’t agree with his preference. She’s wearing it right now. The modest dress is so old it’s nearly out of style. She’s definitely not trying to impress anyone.

“This is delicious, Nacha,” the male guest remarks after she’d insisted they be on a first name basis.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s a new recipe. I might still tweak a few things in the future…” Her voice trails off thoughtfully, then she turns her attention to the young woman seated across from her. “So do you have any activities after school? Senior year is so exciting.”

“I’m on the year book committee and I take piano lessons.”

“I wish I could play a musical instrument. Just never seemed to get the hang of my mother’s piano,” Nacha murmurs wistfully. She pauses, then nudges Francis under the table. This was his cue to inquire if she’d be interesting in babysitting.

He clears his throat loudly, suddenly parched and grabbing for a drink, his hasty fingers nearly knocking the glass over. “We were wondering, if you have time, of course. Understandable if you don’t.” Another nudge, this one firm enough to leave a bruise. “If you wouldn’t be interested in babysitting for us. Nacha is going to be going back to work and there’s a slight discrepancy with our schedules…” Suddenly the words that had been so difficult to utter come spilling out like a guilty man confessing his crimes to the authorities. And oh, was he guilty. His eyes finally meet yours directly, shifting from the point he’d fixed on somewhere near your face, the striped wallpaper on the wall behind you substituted for your features. He feels his body responding immediately, a slight tightening in his trousers that makes him shyly glance away again. Damn it. Masturbating the other day hadn’t taken the edge off at all. What was it about you that made you so irresistible?

“I’m interested,” you reply, and he feels his gaze dragged forcefully back to you. No, he shouldn’t have looked. But he can’t help it. He really can’t. Magnet and iron filings. Moth and flame. The attraction is too strong.

He lets his girlfriend iron out the details like the times and days that work for everyone involved after your father readily agrees to the proposal, stating you’ve always been good with your niece who’s a similar age. A real natural at childcare. Dessert follows after you graciously help Nacha clear the table, a homemade chocolate cake and coffee for the adults, milk for Ana and you, per your request.

The milkman feels your eyes on him again. You’re lifting the glass to your lips, that creamy white substance leaving behind a stain on your upper lip that you quickly lick away, your tongue darting out and stroking over the pink arches. Francis nearly chokes on his bite of cake. It has to be deliberate, right? Or was it really completely innocent, and it was his own sick, twisted brain making it seem like the teenager was flirting with him?

It’s a relief when it’s his daughter’s bedtime and Nacha decides to show you her routine, in case you’ll be there late one night if they ever decided to go out or were otherwise occupied. A little more bonding time for you and his daughter. Your father’s already drawn him into a conversation that distracts him, lets him calm down, the bulge in his pants easing. There’s a nervous moment when you’re parting at the door, the scent of you and your close proximity suddenly threatening to reveal his perversion again, but then you’re gone and it’s just he and his girlfriend once more.

He’s surprised when she begins stroking his shoulder after retiring for the evening, a signal that hadn’t been used in ages. Even more surprising when he responds to it. You don’t resemble Nacha in any way, but maybe that’s better. In the dark, it’s easier to pretend the warm body he presses beneath his is actually yours. The chef had gained weight during the pregnancy that had mostly been shed again, some residual softness still clinging to the middle even after all this time. An idea warps this into your own belly stretched for him. Francis keeps his face tucked into the side of his girlfriend’s neck, huffing softly. You’d be tighter than this. Wetter. He knows it. Those eyes. Those lips. He’s moaning, too loud, he knows.

“Francis,” Nacha cautions. “You’ll wake Ana.”

Your lip stained in white at the dinner table. Your tongue. He wants to lick it off you. Lick every inch of you. Dump an entire bottle of chilled milk over your warm body and lap away. Fuck. Too good. The imagery is too vivid. He pulls out just before he climaxes, spilling semen over Nacha’s torso and abdomen, then flops down beside her. He has no idea if she’s still taking birth control. He’s hardly going to risk getting the mother of his child pregnant again.

There’s a sigh from the other woman. She hasn’t orgasmed. She hates cleaning cum off of her body. Francis bets you’d enjoy it. Rub it in. Encourage him to spread even more on you. He wants to make you cum. He wants you.

The mattress creaks as his partner leaves the bed to go wash up in the bathroom. His elevated pulse and respirations are gradually slowing, returning to normal. He shifts his pajama pants back into place, dragging them back over his hips.

It takes Nacha a long time to come back to bed. Maybe she’d finished herself off in the bathroom. Did you ever touch yourself?

It’s the final lewd thought he ponders before he drifts off to sleep.

***

A week passes. Nacha’s returned to work, this time at a restaurant. Not as many opportunities for creating the baked goods that had been her previous passion, but still a step in the right direction before a better opportunity presents itself.

Francis arrives home a little past four that afternoon, finding you on the floor in the living room with Anastacha. You were helping her color a picture of a rainbow, your shading much neater while the elementary student’s scribbles tended to veer outside the lines. You're both lying on your stomachs, your knees bent, ankles crossed in the air, swaying up and down a bit. A position he’d seen Ana adopt countless times. You, though…

“Daddy!” His daughter scrambles to her feet, running over to give him an enthusiastic hug.

Your eyes lift to meet his as he tousles her hair playfully. “Hi, Mr. Mosses. How was work?”

“Fine. It’s Francis,” he reminds you, although he’s not certain it’s such a good idea to encourage that informal address.

“When is mommy coming home?” The first grader tips her head back, regarding her father.

“Late. Remember I told you? You’ll be in bed before she gets home. It’s just you and me, kiddo.”

“Will she come kiss me goodnight?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can she stay? She’s helping me color.” She points to you and the crayon scrawled picture.

“I see that. It’s very nice. But she can’t stay. She has homework to do, I’m sure. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

The pout on the young child’s face softens. She’s got his eyes, there’s no denying it, but every other feature inherited is her mother’s. The button nose ceases scrunching up and she shrugs her thin shoulders in acceptance.

“Can I have a snack?”

“Not now. It’s almost dinner time,” he says gently.

Unlike Nacha, Francis hated cooking. Thankfully she’d prepared for this, leaving leftovers in the fridge to reheat for supper tonight.

The milkman watches you gather the crayons back into the box, handing the picture to Ana after you push yourself to your feet. “We’ll finish this tomorrow, okay?”

His daughter nods. You slide back into your cardigan, blocking the view he’d just had of your brassiere very visible beneath the thin material of your school blouse. Was that lace he had caught a glimpse of?

“Would you mind walking me downstairs? I’m still a little nervous being on my own.”

It seems like the most innocent of excuses, but Francis is more convinced than ever it’s anything but. He hesitates, eyeing his daughter. The entire point of hiring a sitter was so she wouldn’t be left alone. Now he was going to be doing that very thing.

“Isn’t your dad home?”

“No. He’s teaching a night course.”

The milkman’s heart sinks. Alone. You were going home to an empty apartment. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Ana, daddy’s going to walk your babysitter home, okay? I’ll just be downstairs. You know to keep the door locked until I get back. And the secret knock so you know it’s me.” It was the most innocent way to teach the child about safety. An absolute necessity with the added threat of the doppels around.

“Ok, daddy.” She’s already found her next task to occupy herself, plopped now in front of the television. Too close to the screen, as usual.

He reminds her to sit further back, then turns to you. “Ready?”

You nod and he escorts you to the door. The brief ride on the elevator is silent. It’s the middle of February, and the heat in the building isn’t that good, but he’s already perspiring. His fingers twitch nervously. You’re standing so close beside him your sleeve brushes his.

The carriage halts and the doors slide open. You’re already digging in your backpack for the key. He knows he should turn and flee, right now. Get back to Anastacha. Make dinner. Forget all about you.

Instead he hovers just behind. You push open the door, immediately toeing your shoes off, little polished dress ones with thin black laces. “You want to come in for a minute? Have a drink?”

Oh, he does. He definitely does.

Francis steps inside and closes the door behind him, securing the deadbolt. It locks with a severe cracking sound of metal being driven forcefully together. You move to the fridge, bending slightly as you survey the options, listing each one to him.

It’s over. Doomed. The most cliché thing ever. The babysitter. Really? Fourteen years his junior. Only eighteen. Still in highschool. Fuck.

“Water’s fine.” His mouth is dry, his throat parched. He actually needs the moisture. He’s already pitched a tent, immediately obvious. Impossible to ignore. Your eyes have already spotted it after you straighten, shutting the appliance door. A faint flush in your cheeks. He recognizes the way your pupils have dilated, that signal of desire making the dark centers pool and spread until there is just the thinnest bit of iris encircling each. Your chest rises rapidly, you lips parting slightly, seeking an alternative source of air. “Tell me to leave,” he says, and it’s a plea, something dredged against his will from the depths of his soul that he barely manages to utter.

“No,” you say softly.

He steps closer, crowding you against the sink. His hand reaches out, settling on the side of your neck, shrouded beneath the fragrant curtain of your hair.

“Tell me to stop.”

His chest actually hurts, his heart is pounding so fiercely.

“No,” you deny him again.

His mouth brushes yours. Velvet. Your lips are absolutely plush, pliable. Peach skin. Sweeter than, when his tongue dips inside those parted wedges to taste the ambrosia nectar within.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he pants, and it’s his most desperate urge yet; his last resolve, his last shred of decency hanging by a thread.

“Francis,” you gasp, one hand sliding down to when he needs you most. A place you shouldn’t touch. But oh, how he needs it. His body is already responding, hips grinding against that delicate hand, pushing you further into the sharp edge of the counter. He can smell the last vestiges of the lemon dish soap in the sink behind you, a brief waft of clean citrus before his mouth crushes yours, drinking you in more deeply.

I tried to resist. I didn’t force you. You want this, too.

He’s kissed a few girls in his day. Your own experience level maybe not on par. There’s a certain awkwardness. Maybe from nervousness. But you’re a fast learner. The clumsier collisions of lips and tongue now meeting more smoothly as you map his own. He doesn’t even mind the accidental knocking of teeth, the inadvertent nip of his tongue. It just heightens the experience. Everything about you is the epitome of erotic. You’re gorgeous, sexy, perfect.

He’s got a handful of one breast curving against his palm now, that soft globe palpable beneath the layers of cotton shirt and the lace bra he’d spied earlier. Certainly nothing your father had picked out for you to wear. When had you purchased the lingerie? Did it make you feel wicked? Had you blushed in front of the shopkeeper? Did you choose it just for him?

The milkman is still grinding against your body. He could cum just like this, easily. Even without your hand there, sliding and squeezing. These motions unpracticed, just like the kissing. Maybe you were a virgin after all. His own prize to defile.

He should really guide you somewhere more comfortable. Couch, bed, anything. But that would mean moving apart from you, and he doesn’t want that. He can’t bear to separate from you at this point. The hem of your plaid skirt is gathered roughly in one fist and then he slides immediately to the center, finding your panties are made of the same material as your brassiere, a matching set. They have the stiff, scratchy feel of something new. You’ve definitely just gotten these.

You’re soaked.

His previous imaginings had indeed been correct. An absurd amount of arousal fluid leaks from the entrance his probing fingers skim across after dipping beneath the waistband. You’re making the most amazing sounds. He wishes he could record them, play them on repeat when you’re not around. He collects your slick on the pads of his digits and brings them back through your pert lips to your clit. You moan, low and gutteral, into his mouth. A filthy sound. Like animals, that’s what you’re behaving like. Frenzied and desperate to fuck. Your progress on opening his fly has been interrupted, your brain clearly short circuiting at his intimate touch, the pleasure proving too much of a distraction for you.

The older man’s saturated fingers glide over your pearl, drawing neat circles, as tidy as the coloring you’d done earlier. Refined movements. He swaps out for his thumb and sends his middle finger back through the dewy folds to tease your opening again. Pressing gently. Sealed tight. You haven’t even experimented here, have you? Not even so much as a tampon has ever breached this entrance. You whimper against his ear, your tongue darting out to taste the skin. Salted, no doubt. He was sweating like a man after a marathon. Nervousness. Excitement. Arousal.

“Francis,” you groan again, and the sound of it shoots straight through to his groin. You’ve finally got his pants open, dragging his cock out of his briefs. He’s watching your face as you do it. Sees your eyes widen. It’s going to be so difficult to stretch that virgin pussy over his prick. But he’ll manage it. He’ll manage.

Not today, though. There isn’t time. He hasn’t completely forgotten his other duties, the daughter waiting upstairs. Another time he’ll bury his face between your thighs before he introduces your womb properly to his dick. For now, he has to be content with shoving your panties down and rubbing his erection over your vulva, the fat mushroom head massaging your clit before parting the pink flesh of your sex and teasing your entrance, then back again, fucking against the slickness on the outside of your body. The angle and the height difference makes it difficult and he pauses only long enough to lift you and sit you on the edge of the counter, your ass dipping dangerously close into the stainless steel basin behind you, one arm keeping you balanced while his free hand continues manipulating his cock against your drenched cunt.

The kisses are as sloppy as your nether region now, whatever adroitness you’d acquired previously now forgotten in the wake of your desire. You’re keening and shaking.

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me,” the milkman croons encouragingly.

The hand curled around his neck tightens, gathering the ends of his hair and pulling them taut as you explode, the softer noises he’d elicited earlier now howls and whines. Your head flings back and he feels his cock finally surrender, shooting the load of cum that’s been building up, painting your abdomen and your pussy and your thighs, long spurts that recklessly splatter and slide down your soft skin.

He’s actually done it. He’d fucked around with the babysitter after your first day on the job.

Francis helps you ease back off the counter. You reach for the sponge resting on the back of the sink near the faucet, then think better of it, opting for paper towels instead, dampening them slightly before wiping away the traces of his indiscretion. He refastens his pants, taking a few paper towels for himself to wipe the sweat off his face and neck. Still panting slightly, still recovering. Coming down off the high of being intimate with you.

There’s guilt now, of course. Even though he technically hadn’t violated you. It wasn’t right, what he’d done to you.

But you’d wanted it, hadn’t you? He’d given you the opportunity to refuse him and you’d pulled him closer.

You’re the adult. You know better. Teenage hormones. You should have walked away.

Guilty, yes, but not nearly enough. And he can’t say he regrets it. Can’t fail to admit he’s already thinking about next time. There would surely be a next time.

He washes his hands. He can’t go home smelling like pussy, as much as he’d love to savor the taste and scent of you longer. He should have sneaked a sample before he’d cleansed them. Now they were just soapy and citrusy.

You walk him to the door.

“I have to get back,” he says, as if you’re unaware of the situation. Apologizing for the rushed nature of it all, maybe.

“I know.” Your voice is still soft.

He seats his hand on your cheek. Steals another kiss. It’s meant to be a brief parting one, but you’re already curling a fist into his work shirt, pulling him more tightly against your body. Unbelievably, his cock is twitching again.

“Baby girl, fuck, I have to go,” he reiterates, for himself as much as for your benefit. “I’ll see you soon.”

“My dad’s going to be home tomorrow,” you caution.

“Nacha’s only doing a half shift tomorrow. She’ll be home by five. It’s my long delivery day,” he murmurs regretfully. “I probably won’t get home until six or seven. The day after that is my lighter schedule. I’ll be done by three.”

You frown thoughtfully, then your features brighten. “Pick me up after school the day after, then? I’m staying late for yearbook anyway.”

Yearbook. Yes. Because you’re a senior. In highschool. Honestly, Francis.

“That’s a date, then. I mean, it’s not really a date,” he adds hastily.

“I know.” You stretch to kiss his mouth, this one more chaste, like he’d intended on doing previously. “I’ll see you then. I’ll wait out front by the main entrance.”

“I’ll be the guy in the delivery truck with the cow on the side.”

“Got it. Except…how do I know you’re not, you know, a doppel coming to kidnap me? Didn’t you mention a secret knock earlier?”

”Yes. It goes like this.” He creates a rhythm of staccato taps on the doorframe. “And you answer with this.” A different series this time. “Try it.”

You have the sequence nailed by the second attempt. You smile and something stirs in him. Just a little something. The faintest hum of feeling. The genesis of a tiny affection. Then the milkman finds himself back on the elevator. Suddenly anxious, fumbling the keys in the lock of his apartment door after using the secret knock. He’s relieved to find Ana safe and sound, greeting him less enthusiastically this time, immediately returning to whatever television program she’d been engrossed in.

Nacha’s taped directions to the filled glass baking dish in the fridge. Temperature, time. He turns the dials on the oven.

“You were gone a long time.”

Francis nearly jumps, surprised to find his daughter beside his elbow.

“No, not really, honey. Just had a snack while I was there,” he says, hoping the casual statement will placate her.

“How come you can eat before dinner and I can’t?”

“Because you’re a little girl and you don’t have the same appetite I do. Want to help set the table? First person to finish gets to eat dessert first,” he adds with a smirk.

The little girl scrambles into action, yanking open the drawer that houses the cutlery and he sighs with relief. He’d gotten away with it, for now.

But what would happen in the future?

[dudeitiskarev]

If You Only Knew | Aaron Hotchner

My One and Only prequel

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Broken hearts find each other and in the process, they mend each other.

Word count: 10.7k

Tags/warnings: season 10 Hotch <3; cheating (on reader); food and alcohol consumption; Hotch has a soft spot for reader<3; lazy case talk whoops; canon typical violence; one bed trope; smut: unprotected and dirty office sex (p in v); secret relationship; stolen glances and kisses in forbidden places!!1!

Author’s note: I don’t usually do second parts mostly because I wrap up the story in a single one shot, but while writing the first fic I had this prequel in mind because oh boy, they have HISTORY (which is why it ended up being longer than My One and Only). Both can be read as a stand alone. First fic was based on Dress by miss T. Swift, and this one is like a mash up of every Taylor’s ovulation songs (I listened to this playlist a lot while writing this) 🙂‍↔️ Call It What You Want x I Can See You being the main inspo. Or were the songs inspired by them???🧐 it’s just so sexy sexy. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!

MASTERLIST

There used to be an engagement ring on your right hand. 

A bright but simple ring that from the moment it was given to you, had you hopeful about your future. That future had always been uncertain. You rarely pictured yourself more than two years ahead, to begin with—for many reasons, neither worth mentioning—but no matter how long your future was, you were sure it was going to be just as bright as your ring. 

And how wrong you were…

It hadn’t been more than two months since your fiancé promised you the world when you caught him in a lie. You’d let it slip away, fidgeting your ring as a reminder that he was the one. 

If you hadn’t ignored the signs, you would’ve saved yourself from getting your heart ripped out. 

He cheated, and even worse, you caught him in the act, with another woman in your own bed. You stormed out leaving every door open. Zac came running behind you, yelling your name, but you didn’t stop. You ripped the engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him without looking back. That clink of the band bouncing on the pavement was so faint compared to the sound of your castle crumbling, and your prince kept yelling at you to come back.

You didn’t. You got in your car and drove off aimlessly. 

You’d been driving around the city blasting music since then, and yelling the lyrics hoping you’d go numb. You didn’t, but at least you had some clarity. 

You had nowhere to be. There was no home anymore, no bed to sleep on, and no arms to run to. The place you used to call home now was stained with lies and haunted by another woman. 

The only place that could shelter you for the night was the BAU. At the end of the day, that was your home. You spent most of your days there with the people you worked with. People who would take a bullet for you. They were your family—Derek being the one you loved the most—but you couldn’t run to him or any of them right now. The wound was too fresh and letting them see you like this would be disappointing and just… sad. They’ve always known you as a tough and reasonable woman. How were you supposed to tell them you weren’t that smart now that your entire relationship crumbled?

You parked at your usual spot and searched for your emergency go bag in the backseat. It was always stocked with everything you needed for at least a week. You weren’t planning on staying at the BAU for an entire week, of course, but also, you never knew. Your ex was capable of lighting your house on fire just to get rid of any evidence of his betrayal so for now, that bag was all you had. 

You took a deep breath and made your way inside the building. You walked through security as you always did and smiled at the night guard. It was Rick, the oldest of them all but you felt the safest when he was at the door.

“What brings you here at this hour, young lady?” Rick adjusted his ivy cap. 

It was past three in the morning. 

“Piled up paperwork,” you merely said. 

And he didn’t question you. “Oh, sure,” he answered politely with his old, raspy voice.  

You smiled at him and made your way to the elevator, pushing the number six as you always did. You kicked the bag with your knee until the doors dinged open. 

Not a single soul received you.

You walked past the glass doors and reached your desk, looking up at Hotch’s office that was right across. He had a couch there that you could use as your bed for a few hours. Everyone has slept there at least once— for whatever reason—and now it was your turn. You marched up the short stairs and paused. You knew his office remained unlocked (he once said that he’d lost the key, but deep down you knew he left it open in case anyone needed somewhere to crash for the night). 

You knocked, just in case, and once there was no answer, you twisted the knob. His perfume was faint in the air—soft and woody—so it was easy to assume he’d left not long ago. You closed the door behind you and walked to the couch, leaving your bag there and turning the lamp on. 

The dim light triggered the memories of the moment that tore you apart hours earlier: Another woman riding your fiancé. They even dared to light up romantic candles. 

Your fucking candles.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You wasted three years of your life and now with a cool head, you realized it was in your hands how you handled it. It could either be the best thing that's happened to you or you could let it drag you down. 

Right then, you decided the first option was the only one. You stood there, both hands on your hips, your chin up and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air until your chest swelled. 

This was going to be the only night you’d let yourself mourn your relationship. No tears. Just you and a glass of scotch. It wasn’t your drink of choice but it was all Hotch kept in his office and you knew exactly where he kept the bottle (right under his espresso machine García had gotten him for his birthday a couple of years ago). You crouched down and opened the little cabinet. The bottle was almost full and you wondered if it was brand new or if he rarely drank. You shrugged it off. You poured yourself some and began pacing around his office.

You’ve been here a million times and you’d never paid much attention to all the things he had. There were quite a few awards granted by the bureau displayed on the wall behind his desk; a bunch of books, too. You ran your fingers through them as you walked from end to end. He had a picture of Jack and Haley over his desk and you looked around, searching for a picture of Beth. Your eye landed on her contagious smile, over the little table by his couch. You walked there to get a better look at the picture. She was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. You’d met her a few times and it was nice seeing Hotch in love again. After Haley, everyone thought he’d refuse to let someone in again, but when love knocks on your door there’s not much you can do. 

You sighed deeply and placed your empty glass in front of the picture. The alcohol was making you sleepy so you made yourself comfortable. You went to brush your teeth, put on your pajamas and fuzzy socks, made a blanket out of your blazer, and used your folded pants as a pillow.

You rubbed your feet together. It wasn’t a cold night, but you wished you didn’t have to spend it alone. 

The constant sound of a pen scraping on paper gradually woke you up.

Shit. 

You meant to sleep only a few hours and have Hotch’s office as it was before he got here; pretend you’d gotten there earlier than everyone. You must’ve slept through your alarm. 

You slowly squinted your eyes open and caught Hotch sitting at his desk, brows low in deep thought.

How long has he been there?

“Hotch.” You rubbed your eyes and sat upright. “Hi. Sorry, I— What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the file.

So you didn’t sleep through your alarm. 

“When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”

“A few minutes ago.” He put the pen down and lifted his head to look at you. His face softened. 

He didn’t seem upset about you invading his office but you still felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, stayed until late last night and I was too sleepy to drive and—” You realized mid-sentence how bad you were lying.

But he let you. 

“It’s not a problem, you can always sleep here. As long as it’s not already taken.” He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his thumb with the rest of his fingers. You wondered how bad you looked. How bad everything seemed. “It has a foldable seat,” was all he said, gesturing at the couch. “There’s a blanket under it.”

“Oh, thanks. It wasn’t that cold.” You braced yourself. 

It was cold now.

“You can sleep for another hour,” he added. 

“We don’t have a case?” 

“No.” He glanced at the open door and then back at you. “Not yet anyway.”

Then why was he here so early?

You smiled at him and began to gather your things anyway. “Thank you, but I still should go. I’m… invading your space.”

“Oh, please. Don’t worry about it,” he said before going back to work on his paper. 

Even if he didn’t mind you sleeping there while he worked, you did. You stood up, stretched your neck a bit, and began to fold all of your clothes, putting them back in your bag. 

You felt his eyes on you every once in a while and just when you grabbed the evidence of your late night—the empty glass of scotch—he asked, “Is everything alright?”

You looked at him. There was that soft look again.

“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, fidgeting with your now invisible ring. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He didn’t have to say anything. He knew. You knew he knew just by that look he gave you. Wise. Emphatic. The ‘I’ve been there before’ look. 

He opened his mouth to add something, but his phone buzzed on the table, making him tear his eyes off you. He sighed as his brows lowered.

“Now we have a case?” You asked and he nodded. “I’ll put on some work-appropriate clothes, then.” You looked down at your pajamas.

“Take your time. We’ll meet in thirty.”

The jet took off and the clouds were never-ending. 

Two women had been abducted (and murdered) already in Fort Myers before you were invited to investigate. Victimology and M.O. were discussed and you barely said a thing. Your mind kept wandering off to the night before and how miserable you felt. The phantom of betrayal was still heavy on your shoulders. 

Hotch sat next to you during the three-hour flight, and the only thing he said to you that wasn’t work-related was: ‘Would you like some coffee’, to which you gladly accepted. His eyes, though, kept asking if you were okay. 

Minutes before the jet touched the ground, your phone caught some signal and began to buzz uncontrollably against the table. You already knew who it was so you didn’t bother to glance at the screen, you just sighed in annoyance and put your phone in your pocket. You felt Hotch’s eyes on you again and you tried your best to ignore him.

Right now, he was your boss, not your friend. 

The moment the jet doors opened, the dense, humid air stuck to your skin. Everyone groaned in annoyance.

“Ugh, I hate Florida,” Emily commented. 

You didn’t mind it. You needed a bit of heat and sun, hoping they’d woosh away the gray cloud over your head.

Hotch assigned everyone’s tasks for the day and partnered you up with Morgan to interview the victims’ families. Smart move. It was known that Morgan was your person inside the team, and even if he didn’t know about your heartbreak right now, he’d surely find out soon after spending the day with you. That’s what Hotch wanted. For you to have someone to talk to if you wanted.

You would’ve preferred to be out in the field instead of inside an office, that way you’d have more distractions. Right now, as you talked to one of the victim’s husbands, your only distraction was your phone. Your ex started to call you again and spam-texting you. He was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t quite focus on your job. The one that you considered was your forte—when it came to good people. 

These men weren’t good people. They were exactly like your ex. 

And they got on your nerves. 

Morgan shot you a frown as he walked the last person out of the office, “What’s going on with you? You almost punched the guy.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

“I would’ve if you hadn’t caught me.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being dead serious, what’s going on with you?”

“He called his dead wife a whore, Morgan.”

“I’m not just talking about this. All morning you’ve been acting weird.”

There was his big brother attitude.

You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t not tell him. So you told him. Some of it. “Zac and I are fighting. He keeps calling but I’m not gonna answer yet. He’s gonna have to wait until I’m back.”

“What did he do?” He asked, brows shooting up with concern. 

You walked to the small coffee station the sheriff had set up for the team. “We’re just fighting.” You poured yourself some coffee. You couldn’t tell him everything. He was friends with Zac—and a really good one. 

“I don’t buy that,” Morgan insisted. “I know what your fights look like. This isn’t a fight over how he didn’t do the dishes.”

You hated how well he knew you. You and Zac. It was sad to think there wouldn’t be any more double dates with him and Savannah. 

“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” you merely said.

Morgan let out a huff and glared at you in silence. “Alright.” 

He respected you and didn’t bug you any more about it. And neither did Zac, thankfully. The messages and phone calls stopped but even then, you couldn’t get your mind off whatever he wanted to say. 

The day went by painfully slowly. Not many leads were found and the unsub seemed to have gone dormant, which meant the investigation was done for the day. 

Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were still finishing up a few things with the sheriff, and you decided to wait for them outside, sitting on the sidewalk. There was a dinner reservation at the hotel at nine. It was thirteen past nine and you’d been running on five cups of coffee. 

Your stomach rumbled. 

Steps came from behind. Morgan silently sat next to you and handed you a protein bar. He sat close, his arm touching yours. “Zac called me.” 

“Good for him.” You didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, you began to pick your nails. You weren’t hungry anymore. 

“And he told me.” Derek placed one hand over yours, stopping you from destroying your nails. 

You shot him a look. “What did he tell you?” You asked because you didn’t think Zac would rat himself out to Morgan. 

“I’m on your side,” he said. “He’s my friend, but you’re my sister. He’s dead to me now.” He quirked his brows. 

“What did he tell you, Morgan?”

“That you caught him cheating.” 

The disappointment on his face was as clear as the night sky.  

You tore your eyes off him and sighed.

“I was so stupid.” You rubbed your forehead. “I caught him in lies multiple times and I brushed them all off. Like a part of me wanted that to happen,” you confessed. 

“What do you mean? That you didn’t want to marry him?”

“I… I don’t know.” You looked back at Derek. Now that the truth was out you needed to talk about it. Maybe that way you could realize it was all your fault. “I loved him, and he was a great guy but at some point, after the engagement and before the lies, I stopped seeing a future with him. So I guess it’s my fau—”

“Nuh-uh.” Derek interrupted you, placing a finger over your lips. “He did this,” then booped your nose. 

You couldn't help but smile. “Yeah but I stopped being… a girlfriend to him,” you explained, moving your hands around to make your point. “I came home late, he’d wait for me with dinner but I just… stopped seeing him.” You sighed. It really was your fault to some extent now that you talked about it. “He sought the attention I stopped giving him on someone else. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want… to be the person who just works and can’t balance it with personal life.”

“It’s tough.” 

“Yeah, but you seem to make it work with Savannah.” You nudged his arm.

They had the kind of love you aspired to have one day.

“It took us a while, but we made it work. Still do. It’s a good thing she also has a time-consuming job. She just gets it. But it takes a lot of effort from both parties.”

You nodded in agreement. “Zac and I are over. This isn’t something we can talk about and get through and forget or forgive. He betrayed me.” 

Derek hung one arm over your shoulder and kissed your temple. “I know.”

“At least I don’t have to plan a wedding anymore. It seems exhausting.”

“Oh, believe me, it is.”

You gasped and pulled away to look at him. He had a grin on his face now. That’s what you needed. A smile from him even if it made you forget for just a moment. “What? What does that mean? Did you propose?!” 

“Whoa, whoa.” Emily came from behind and joined the conversation right away, standing in front of you. “Who’s proposing?”

“Morgan,” you were quick to respond. Anything to avoid anyone else knowing you’d been cheated on.

“Shhh!” He stood up, signaling you both to shut up with a finger over his lips and looking around to make sure no one else heard. “I’m planning to, alright. Don't…. Freak out. She can say no.”

“She’d be silly to say no,” Emily laughed a little. “Are you kidding?”

“You’re already planning the wedding,” you laughed too while standing up. “Don’t pretend you expect her to say no.”

“Of course, she’s gonna say yes.” Derek grinned. “I’m just playin’.”

On the way to the hotel, the team split into two SUVs and Hotch kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign, with that know-it-all look, a pinch of concern. He was worried about you (and soon to be pissed for the stunt you pulled earlier). 

You got a triple room with Emily and JJ and you didn’t give them a chance to make any conversation with them since dinner was canceled.  You threw your bag over your bed and headed to the rooftop. You figured it’d be the only place none of the team would be. You needed fresh air, and you felt ready to talk to Zac. You reached the rooftop and pulled out your phone. Just the thought of hearing his voice tightened your throat. But you had to. You needed to know what he had to say.

You dialed his number and some agonizing butterflies still managed to flap their wings at the pit of your stomach with that first ‘hey’ on the other line. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your only witness was the moon hanging above and she wouldn’t judge you, so you finally allowed yourself to feel it.

His voice was a stab to your heart and a soft sob got caged in your throat. He said he was sorry, that he missed you, that he loved you. That you will always be the love of his life and that he knew he’d lost you. You muffled your sobs against your hand and once he was done talking, all you could reply was ‘okay’. 

Then you hung up.

“Damn it.” You let your phone slip through your fingers to cover your eyes with one hand while you braced yourself with the other arm. 

You stood there—for who knows how long—until a pair of unfamiliar arms enveloped you from the front. Their scent, though, was like home—faint and woody bathing you whole. You nestled against their chest and it only made you cry even more. 

“Shh. It’s okay.” 

Hotch’s voice snapped the knife out of your chest and he wasn’t about to let you bleed out. With one hand he caressed the back of your head, giving you soft scratches. The other rubbed your upper back with short and tender strokes. You weren’t planning on crumbling and you surely didn’t expect Hotch to be the one comforting you, but it felt right. You needed a hug and a gentle voice telling you it was okay to feel like this. 

Your entire relationship flashed before your eyes. You were mourning its death, after all., and there was no going back from it. You wouldn’t do that to yourself and had to accept that his laugh would eventually fade away from your memory and his eyes would no longer shine because of you—they haven’t for a while.

You peeled yourself from Hotch’s chest and noticed how his shirt was damp with your tears.

“Sorry, I—” you sniffed; looked up at him.

His soft eyes scanned your face for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ they asked, a sweet frown taking over his face. 

“You look like you need a drink,” he said instead.

You chuckled, nodding, even when the after-crying headache was creeping up on you. You would’ve taken the elevator to the first floor, but Hotch guided you through the staircase. 

“Were you up there when I got there?” you asked him. 

“No, I went there to clear my head and… found you standing there.”

After all these years working with him, he was still the hardest to read. “Is something bugging you?” you asked him. 

“No.”

Okay, then. You understood it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about (with you). 

You reached the first floor and headed to the bar. It wasn’t crowded, and Rossi was already there. You two joined him, each at either side of him.

“Ah, FBI agents,” Rossi told the bartender, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna interrogate me, are you?” he then asked you two.

“I don’t know. Should we?” Hotch asked with a tint of humor.

“You should interrogate her.” He gestured at you by twitching his mouth in your direction. “I heard she almost punched one of the victim’s husbands.”

“Thanks, Rossi.” You glared at him, and he couldn’t have cared less. 

“Is that true?” Hotch asked you, leaning a bit forward to glance at you over Rossi, even when the wall in front of you was a whole mirror. 

“Goodnight, kid.” Rossi slid off his stool. “Night Hotch. Keep an eye on her.”

“Great.” You glared at him again. “Just throw the grenade and run away.” He just laughed and waved a dismissive hand. He had clearly had quite a few drinks so you couldn’t blame him much.

“Is that true?” Hotch asked again.

“He was a jerk,” you responded, sipping on your drink. 

“That has nothing to do with it. Jerk or not, you can’t be acting like that.” His frown grew strong but his voice remained as soft as when he was comforting you moments earlier. 

“He cheated on her, Hotch.” You shot him a look through the mirror. “That’s why she went out and got abducted. Murdered.”

“I understand that, but we push our feelings aside, you know that.”

“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just… let it go, please. You know I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t.” He took a short sip of his drink and looked forward, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “You’d be off the case if you pull something like that again.” 

A light bulb lit up over your head right then. 

“Do you think that’s why the unsub is targeting the victims?” You grabbed his forearm with excitement. “Because they got cheated on?”

You were right and your tragedy helped save the last woman the unsub had abducted. You wrapped up the case with a bittersweet taste. 

On the flight home, Morgan sat next to you, and for some reason, you wished Hotch had sat there.

You searched for him on the jet and he’d chosen to sit farther back. You wanted to thank him for comforting you when he didn’t have to, and as if he’d read your mind—

Good job today—He texted—I know this was a particularly difficult case for you.

You lifted your head and caught him looking at you. You smiled at him as a response.

It was difficult, but it also helped you heal a little. 

Morgan nudged your arm gently, gesturing for you to take your headphones off. 

“Hm?” you raised your brows.

“Are you planning on going home now?” 

You sighed. “I have to.”

“You can stay with me for a few days. Savannah would be thrilled to have you over.”

“Thank you but I think that’d make me feel… small? I have to see him eventually. And I’d rather get it over with soon.” You smiled at him. “After that conversation, though, I’m not sure if I’ll have a place to stay so I’ll let you know if I need a place to crash for the night.”

“I’ll be there, then.”

When you made it to your place, Zac was waiting for you with dinner. You would’ve laughed, but you were too exhausted to even smile at him. 

“I’m just here to get my things,” you said, walking past him to your room.

You smelled fresh paint on your way there, and you really laughed then. He’d repainted the whole thing. Did he think changing the wall color would make you forget what happened there? 

“It’s your favorite color.” Zac stood at the door.

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed.

You threw all your belongings in two suitcases and left. 

To never come back.

“You’re getting discharged.” Hotch drew open the curtain of your cubicle.

“What? What about Morgan?” You sat upright, keeping the ice close to the bump on your head. You’d been in a car crash in the middle of a prosecution. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He just dislocated his shoulder.”

“Well, the doctor said I can’t fly, let alone drive.” You rolled your eyes. “So who’s driving me back to Quantico?”

“I am.” You couldn’t help but let out a huff. “Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.”

“It’s seventeen hours, Hotch. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can take an overnight bus or something.”

“You’re not taking any bus. You got a brain bleed. Someone’s gotta be there if something happens.” He glared at you. “Gather your things. I’ll bring the car. A nurse will walk you out.”

Your things were only your badge and gun. Everything else was still at the hotel, so you assumed you were going to make a stop there before hitting the road back to Quantico.  

You were officially discharged by your doctor minutes later and you’d underestimated Hotch’s efficiency. He’d already gone to the hotel to get your things. He even bought snacks—your favorite snacks. 

You reclined your seat and threw a blanket over you. Your head was much better but it still hurt despite you being high on painkillers.

“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater on?”

“Not cold.” You assured him. You just wanted to make yourself cozy. “Hotch, I don’t know if I’m gonna handle a seventeen-hour drive.”

“I know.” He gave you a quick glance. “I don’t think I will either. We’ll make a stop if you need to. Just let me know.”

You dozed off and on during the first two hours—your eyes darting to Hotch’s firm hands on the steering wheel—until it started raining. Normally, you would’ve been on high alert since you weren’t a fan of driving when it rained, but it was Hotch who was driving. And he was a great driver. 

The sound of the thick drops hitting the windshield turned out to be a perfect lullaby and helped you fall into a deep and cozy slumber. A dream began to take over your mind at some point but it didn’t become one entirely. 

Loud noises dragged you out of it.

You blinked your eyes open. You were parked on the side road, and the rain wasn’t normal rain anymore. It was loud, hitting the rooftop like daggers. You feared it might fall through. 

“Are those hailstones?” You adjusted the seat back straight.

“Not yet,” Hotch responded. “But we can’t keep driving like this. I can barely see past the hood. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m no weather expert but I’m sure there’s a storm coming.”

Hotch nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to make an emergency stop.” He pulled out his phone and typed something. “There’s a motel 3 miles away. We can spend a few hours there until the storm passes.”

“You just said it’s dangerous to keep driving.”

“It’s more dangerous to stay here or on the side of the road. Plus you need to rest. It’s been a long drive already.” 

Long? You glanced at the clock on the radio. 

“It’s been six hours already?!” Your eyes widened.

It didn’t feel like it, though.

“You snored half of it.” He teased, his soft dimples making their first appearance of the night.

“I did not,” you laughed a little. 

You knew he was just kidding, but you clearly needed those hours of deep sleep. Your headache was much better now.

Hotch kept the blinkers on as he started driving again, slowly until the map on his phone signaled him to turn right. 

There was a blue-light vacancy sign glitching. 

“This is it?” you asked. The place looked straight out of a horror film and the dark sky didn’t help.

“You stay here,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll check if they have any rooms.”

You didn’t disagree and locked the doors once he stepped out. Just in case. 

Minutes later, your phone buzzed.

There’s only one room available, Hotch texted you. 

Two beds? you texted back right away.

King, he replied.

Great. It was either sharing a bed with Hotch or staying in the car.

I don’t mind if you don’t, you texted. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Then you added, we’ll only be here a few hours until the rain stops, right?

Yes. Don’t move. I’ll come get you, he replied.

You gathered your things within reach, as gently as possible so your brain wouldn’t get all scrambled by sudden movements and unlocked the doors for Hotch.

He opened the door and ducked his head inside. “It’s the farthest room,” he raised his voice over the loud rain.

“That’s fine,” you matched his tone. “Let’s make one trip. I can carry my things.”

“You sure?” he frowned in an attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You nodded and stepped out of the car. 

Once you had your things and Hotch had his, he took the lead with you walking fast behind him with your head low. You both were already drenched so there was no point in running. 

The room was better than what you expected. It welcomed you with warm air, one bed, a small desk facing the window, an old TV, and a bathroom. They even had a small station with a kettle and tea/coffee, and the heater was on

You stripped out some of your clothes right next to the heater and changed your muddy shoes for your slippers. 

“Do you mind if I take the bathroom first?” You asked him.

“Not at all,” Hotch replied, ridding himself of some damp clothes.

You walked past him with your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom. You unlocked it right away. What if you passed out? It was going to be a quick shower to regulate your body temperature, but with a brain injury, you never knew. 

You were in and out of it in less than ten minutes and Hotch had already changed his clothes to sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was always so strange seeing him out of his suits.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, hanging his clothes on the improvised drying rack he made out of the single chair and desk and placing it close to the heater. 

“A little.” You sat on the left side of the bed.

Hotch grabbed the snack bag and displayed what he’d bought over the bed. Along with your favorite snacks were some fruits and two instant noodle soups. The first time you pulled out one of those, Reid told you all about them and how they were some of the most cancerous foods there could be, but they were a guilty pleasure and you didn’t eat them often. 

“Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll take a shower now.”

He was being a good caretaker to you and you trusted him so all you had to do today and tomorrow was obey him. You could shut your brain down when Hotch was around.  

You turned the TV on to have some background noise and put on the news. The weather had been catastrophic already in some parts and they said it was going to last at least eight more hours. It was 8 pm so you didn’t mind waiting all night for it to pass. It was a cozy room, after all.

You prepared yourself the instant soup and sat cross-legged on the bed. Your phone buzzed against the mattress.

How’s your head? Morgan texted.

Better. Your shoulder?

I have a good doctor at home so I’ll be alright. How’s the trip going? 

The sky is falling here. We had to make a stop for the night. 

Sharing a room with the boss? ;) 

You didn’t know why he would say that or why you would lie about your answer, but you lied. 

Of course not! We’re gonna wait for the rain to pass before hitting the road again.

You hit send right when Hotch came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. 

You put the phone down. “There’s still hot water in the kettle.”

You rarely saw him eat, and since all he bought were things you liked, you assumed he liked them too. He prepared his soup as well and sat on the other side of the bed.

“It looks pretty bad.” He glanced at the TV.

“They said it’s gonna last all night.”

Something was odd about him now. Maybe it was the fatigue of the trip that hit him after the shower. But he kept looking at his phone and putting it down. You saw him clench his jaw more than once. 

“Everything okay?” You had to ask.

He gave you a look. 

Everything was not okay.

He hesitated a moment, twisting the noodles with his fork but never taking a bite. 

“Beth got a job offer in Hong Kong.” Oh. “And she’s boarding the flight now.” Oh, no. “She asked my opinion before taking the job offer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I encouraged her to take it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

You didn’t want him to regret his choice about encouraging her—she put him between a rock and a hard place—but you had a string of questions about it. What if she asked for his opinion because she wanted to stay and settle, but needed him to say it?  

“So you let her go,” you said instead and he nodded. “How’s Jack handling it?”

“She talked to him, we took him to Orlando for the weekend and he understood it but”—he sighed—“I know it’s been hard on him, too.” You couldn’t imagine how his son was feeling. He was a kid and he’d lost someone, too. “But we ended it on good terms.” He raised his brows. 

“Why did you offer to drive me home?” You asked. “You could be there with her by now. At the airport.”

“We said our goodbyes.” He shook his head and looked down. “It would’ve made it more painful.” 

You hummed in agreement. “They say if you love someone, you let them go. If they come back, it means they’re truly yours.” He looked at you. “She could come back.”

His eyes were glassy. For some reason, you felt he was thinking about Haley, too. He was once again losing someone he loved—by choice this time but losing her nonetheless.

“Sorry,” he sort of laughed. “I’m talking about my heartbreak when…”

When you were recently heartbroken too. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’m—”

“Fine,” he finished your sentence. “Of course you are.” 

“I’m over it and I laugh about it now. I wasted three years of my life. My good years.” You chucked. “It's funny now.”

“It’s not. And you still have a few more good years ahead of you?” He commented, confused.

You talked as if your youth was already over but you had a good reason. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna be as hot as I was when I met him.” He smirked. “He went for a younger woman.” You then added. 

“Younger?” He raised his brows. 

“I know. I think that’s why I feel old. But she was a 25-year-old trainee.”

“That’s not much younger than you.” 

“You flatter me.” You let out a small laugh. “I just… Why do men always go for the younger woman?”

He took a subtle deep breath. “I—“

“Generally speaking,” you added. “Men who cheat go for a younger woman.”

“I don’t know but I’m sure Reid can give you all the statistics about it.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear them.” 

You let out a yawn, and soon Hotch did too. You two agreed in silence it was time for bed already.

“It’s not cold in here so I’ll sleep over the bed covers,” he commented.

“Hotch, you don’t have to. I don’t mind, honestly. I’ve shared beds with most of our team.”

“Alright,” he let out a small laugh, raising his brows. 

The rain stopped around 5 am and within thirty minutes you both were up and ready to hit the road again. There were ten hours ahead of you and this time you didn’t feel the need to sleep through it. You slept like a baby last night and also, talking to Hotch was really nice, and he seemed well-rested too. 

You stopped for a quick breakfast two hours in and had it in the car to optimize time. Throughout the drive, there were talks about the landscapes and weather and he’d throw in some random stories about his brother, or Haley and Jack when something reminded him of them.  

Your favorite was how he and Jack had a tradition whenever it rained: chocolate chip cookies. And how Jack had already decided that he was going to do the same with his kids one day. 

And the more the clock ticked, the more you wished he’d slow down his speed (even when he was going just below the limit). You didn’t want the trip to end, but it had to eventually.

Around 3 pm. Hotch was dropping you off at your place.

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he commented. Only Derek had had the chance to visit your new place.

“It is. It’s mostly old people that live here so it’s very quiet all the time.” You smiled. Silence filled the air for a moment. You missed him already. “Hey, I know we’re both exhausted but… would you like to come in? We can make some decent lunch.”

Hotch took a subtle deep breath. “I would. I’d love to but… Jack’s waiting for me. I was supposed to arrive yesterday and he was excited to see me. I… I’m picking him up at school after this.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You gulped. Stupid.

Why did you feel nervous around him all of a sudden?

“Maybe some other time?” He asked.

Your stomach fluttered. 

“Definitely.”

Spencer was turning 33, and Penelope thought throwing him a surprise birthday party was a good idea. She asked everyone to show up earlier than usual to decorate a conference room. You were the first one to show, then one by one everyone arrived. 

The only one you wanted to see walking through the door, though, wasn’t the birthday boy. It was Hotch. 

After the gloomy night at the motel, Hotch became a permanent thought. You didn’t know if it was because he took such good care of you, or because he trusted you to tell you a personal thing—or both—but since that night, something changed.

You’d always admired him, but this was more than that. Your cheeks grew warm whenever he looked at you. You started to feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. And you felt ridiculous. He was your boss, he’d been your boss for five years so why had your feelings changed? 

The truth was, you’d always had certain feelings for him. Nothing ever happened before because you met him as a divorced man, who only had time for his kid and his job, so at the time, besides your boss, he was a nice face to look at (a very nice face). Then Haley's death came and he shut himself down, drowning himself in work. You started dating Zac soon after, then you didn’t have eyes for Hotch anymore. He became who he was: your boss. 

Now, that both were single, your true feelings for him were coming afloat. Of course, you didn’t let them show; how your stomach fluttered at his sudden presence and constant glances. You insisted those were in your head, that he’d always looked at you the same amount or the same way, but when the attraction is reciprocated, there’s a spark. 

That spark almost lit up a fire in your chest when he finally showed up. The lights were off, but you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere, and he was walking up to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, standing next to you.

“You’re late,” you whispered back.

“Is Reid here?”

“No, but we did all the work.”

“I’m… the boss for a reason.”

You held back a laugh. Thank god it was dark.

“Shhh, there he comes!” Penelope whispered loudly. 

Everyone moved to their assigned spot and your hand accidentally brushed his in the process. “Sorry.”

It’s okay, he whispered. 

That accidental touch was the first of many not-so-accidental.

You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but he looked at you, paid attention, listened to every word you had to say. He saw right through you. 

There weren’t many moments outside work, though, and that confused you even more. You couldn't ask him to see each other casually. It wasn’t something you or he did, and it made you wonder. You wondered. Always. Every day. Every hour. Every time you looked at him you wondered what was going through his mind. 

Weeks went by where unspoken words were said. Your feet itched to go to his office every time you knew he was going to stay until late. To offer him some coffee, or ask him if he needed help with something but all you always ever did was turn in your reports and linger there for a second or two, hoping he’d ask you to stay. 

And tonight was no exception. You had your excuse to stay late this time, though. A doctor's appointment forced you to clock in late, and for that, you had to stay to meet your weekly worked hours. 

Everyone had left, even the janitors. 

Everyone except for Hotch, of course. 

You glanced at your watch when you finally finished your last report. It wasn’t even an appropriate time to have dinner. You were dreaming of your bathtub and a glass of wine with some cheese.

You stacked your folders and adjusted your skirt before going to Hotch's office to hand them in. You knocked three times and waited for his Come in! to enter the room. 

You walked in and he wasn’t at his desk as he usually was. He was on his couch, with only the lamp lights on; he’d removed his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up right below his elbows.��

“Hey, I… I finished my reports.”

He looked at you—stared. You swore a faint smile was curling the corner of his lips. “Toss them on my desk.”

You slowly walked in and did as he said. “Are you… leaving soon?” you clasped your hands behind you.

“I don’t think so.”

“Is there… something I can help you with?” You gestured at the folder he was holding.

He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, actually.” He scooted to give you space on the couch. “Close the door.”

You did as he said and sat next to him, but not quite close. He put the folder on the coffee table and spread all the documents, filling in every gap.

“Choose,” he said. 

You laughed. “What?” 

“Our next case.”

“Oh, I’m not… I don’t think I’m qualified to do that, am I?”

“There’s a reason I’m asking you to choose.” He raised his brows to make his point. 

Your eyes flickered between pictures and reports. Neither was worse than the other. “Well, it’s not like I can choose, right? You have to… study each one of these murders to decide which one has more priority. Which is… a bit twisted. As if one is less important than the other.”

“It’s hard.” 

“And you do it every time.”

Hotch nodded. “JJ used to do it when she was the liaison. Now she still does when I can’t or ask her to since she has the right criteria, but it’s on me now.” He raised his brows as he spoke. 

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, a sudden urge to kiss him brewing in your chest. 

“I don’t know how you do your job without breaking down sometimes,” you said. He smiled, scanning your face up and down. God, you really wanted to kiss him. “I mean your unit chief job.” You tore your eyes off him and adjusted yourself a bit farther on the couch. You had the perfect view of the side of his head.  

Hotch leaned forward resting his elbows over his knees and lowered his head. “It’s… the one thing I’m good at.”

“Not the only thing,” you let out a breathy laugh. He turned to you, raising his brows as if he were waiting for you to mention another thing he was good at. “You’re a great dad, Hotch,” you said without hesitation. 

“I,” he licked his lips. “I could be better.”

“We all could be better at everything, doesn’t mean we’re bad at it.”

Hotch sighed. “You’re right.”

“You’re also… good at sports?”

“Stop.” He chuckled, lowering his head once again. 

You rubbed his back by impulse, and you withdrew it right away as you felt him tense up. Your hand tingled at that brief contact and it burnt when he reached for it and enveloped it with his large hand. Your heart rate skyrocketed and all you could hear was your pulse in your ears (not that any of you was saying anything anymore).

He turned his head to you, adjusting farther back so his back would rest on the couch. Your shoulders touched now, and his hand was still on yours and this time, his thumb caressed your knuckles, and his eyes were stuck on your face. 

The urge to kiss him was flush against your skin. 

“You should go home,” he said, swallowing thickly. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you licked your lips. “I really should.”

He let go of your hand and with the same one, you caressed the side of his head where a few satly strands of hair were gloriously shining. You put the short pieces behind his ear and cradled his face. You held your breath. What the hell were you doing? 

A pained frown took over his face and he shut his eyes for a second. You wanted to kiss the frown away so you leaned, kissing his cheek. He tilted his face until the tip of your nose was touching his. 

His shaky breath ghosted your lips. 

Would a kiss on the lips be so bad?

You were closing the gap before you thought about the answer. Your lips touched—a soft peck—and there was barely a sound when you pulled away.

“I’m sorry I”— You placed your fingers over your lips right away.

Hotch wasn’t giving you any signs of anything at all and panic began to take over you. 

God, what have you done?

Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper filled with longing. He was leaning closer. He studied your face from up close as he paused. His nostrils flared and he licked his bottom lip before going for a kiss. Just as tender as yours. 

At first.

One of his hands found a spot on the side of your thigh while the other went to the back of your neck, bringing you closer and allowing the kiss to intensify. His chin scraped yours with his barely noticeable beard and his lips were gentle despite his sudden urge. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this—him kissing you back or reciprocating any sign of affection. But he was, and he was getting so into it his tongue was already teasing yours. 

A small moan escaped you when he opened his mouth a bit more. Your breathing quickened with each kiss and when your tongues finally tangled together, you lost it. 

“C’mere.” He murmured against your lips.

You hopped on his lap and gave yourself in. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight and pressed your hips down. It became sloppy with each kiss already and only heavy breathing filled the room. His heavy breathing. 

He was so needy for you.

This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but you were ecstatic. No matter how far this went, it already was much better than your bathtub. 

You let go of his lips for a second. You needed to catch some air. 

“Aaron.” 

You’d never called him by his first name. Never, and right then you wished you’d done it sooner. It seemed to have awakened something in him. He groaned into another kiss and grabbed your hips tightly, encouraging you to move them. 

He liked it. He loved it. 

You obeyed, grinding him and going back for another kiss. His hands were still shy, hesitantly resting at the curves of your hips. You pressed your hips down. His hard bulge was right there. You couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, cupping his face harshly with both hands as if he could go anywhere. He was a prisoner of your body; you had him caged with your legs and arms and he didn’t seem to mind at all. 

His hands raked down your curves, lower on either side of your hips and slowly traveled down, cupping your ass and guiding you back and forth. 

Hotch’s lap was heaven on earth. 

You moaned into a wetter kiss, tongues gliding together. You were embarrassingly loud now. He smiled against your lips. 

“Sorry.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, pressing your foreheads together.

His chest was heaving in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands went up to your lower back and he pulled you close into a tight and tender hug. 

A sudden clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. He was your boss for fucks sake. You were sure, that once you came out of his office, you would lose your job. The one you fought so hard for. 

“I… I have to go.” You slid off his lap and stood in front of him, adjusting your skirt. 

He was staring up at you through his dark lashes and you couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed. You wiped your lips clean and took a few steps back. 

“I am so sorry this—” You took a few more steps backward on your way to the door and turned all the way, giving him your back.

Hotch stood up, his broad silhouette taking a few steps towards you. He said your name with his deep, deep, oh-so-deep voice as your hand touched the knob. He was right behind you now, his torso glued to your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. 

You shut your eyes as he inhaled your hair.

You locked the door.  

“Are you sure?” he murmured next to your ear. 

All you could do was nod. 

He flipped you around by your hips, capturing your mouth, body, and soul. This time he groaned like an animal, hungry for you. God, he was desperate and your entire body fluttered. Your knees when weak right when he scooped you by your thighs and walked with you towards his desk, plopping you there while knocking everything down with one hand. 

No words were necessary. His hands talked for him and the kiss was never-ending. You were a fucking mess already. You were at his will, so open to let him do anything he wanted with you. 

To you. 

The air was getting hotter and the layers of clothes began to bother you. His body heat and breath were to blame. He was everywhere. 

He sneaked one hand in between your legs and gripped your inner thigh, his thick fingers sinking into your flesh. You squirmed over the wood, encouraging him to go a little higher. He did, the tip of his fingers ghosting your panties. They were damp with your arousal already (you’d felt it leak through you when you were kissing on the couch), and by the way he smiled, he could feel it. He lifted your skirt up to your waist and pressed himself onto you, his erection finding your cunt like a magnet. He cursed under his breath, looking down at where your bodies touched the most. But not quite. 

You wanted to touch him, feel how hard he was. You palmed his thick bulge and gulped. Your mouth went dry as you began to massage the outline of his erection while making eye contact, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. 

There were so many clothes in the way, making it hard to focus but then he grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes and whatever was about to come, was the best thing that would ever happen to you.

He sneaked his fingers from the side of your panties, the wet sound of your arousal against his fingers was embarrassing. But it made him drop his head to your shoulder. He cursed again and began to massage you, spreading your arousal all over with his thick fingers. Your cunt clenched, desperate to have him inside you. You cursed under your breath with pleasure as his fingers found your wet entrance. He made circular motions without entering, teasing you. 

He was driving you insane, too.  

“Hotch,” you murmured, I need you, you wanted to say, but he shushed you. Gently. Tenderly. Shushed you with an open-mouth kiss. 

You whimpered against his mouth and with clumsy hands, undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sneaking your hand inside to touch his length. Finally. You whined again at that first touch. His skin was burning.

“Would you fuck me?” you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his length. They barely covered him. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. Let me feel you.”

He moved his fingers up and down between your wet folds, feeling you as he’d said. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled, gentle and put the perfect amount of pressure.

But you were growing desperate. 

“Please, Hotch.”

He didn’t give you any warning and in one fell swoop, he had his length out. Fuck. His cock stood on its own—thick and long—so close to your cunt. The tip glistened with his arousal. 

“Scoot to the edge,” he ordered. 

You did as he said and he lined himself at your entrance and barely pushed the head inside. You both let out a quiet moan at the same time.

God, it felt good. He felt good. You both looked down and watched as he slowly entered, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. He looked at you then and you lost it. 

Aaron Hotchner was fucking you. Aaron Hotchner, whom you admired and respected. Aaron Hotchner, the man who has been messing with your head these past few months. 

This was an eye-opening experience. Paradise on earth. How have you gone so many years without him? New feelings were brewing in your chest with each thrust, each stare, and each kiss. 

You gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer as he began to move, rocking his hips back and forth. You’d milked his dark and thick curls with your arousal already, making each slam sticky to your skin. 

His cock was exquisite, spreading you open and reaching every right spot. 

“You feel so good, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You couldn’t resist. 

He kept fucking you until your butt went numb, you needed to finish but you didn’t want this to end. Ever

You showed your discomfort by adjusting over the desk.

Bend over, he whispered on your lips. 

He kissed you one last time before you hopped off the desk and obeyed, bending over his desk and glancing at him over your shoulder, ready to take him. He squeezed your ass with both hands and lined himself again. He teased you, pulling it out and moving it up and down. You let out a needy hum, wiggling your ass, begging for his cock.

He entered again and this time, he was ruthless. He slammed into you, hard. Then again. And again. Over and over until the only sound in the room was the clash of skin against skin. You had to muffle your moans—and smile—by biting your forearm. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, Aaron Hotchener fucked good. So good you were seeing stars already and so close to grazing the sky. 

He bent down too for a moment just to bring you up close into a hug. “Come here.” You already knew he liked having you close.

He sneaked one hand from the front and massaged your clit as his thrust became sloppy. You threw your head back to his shoulder, and he captured the underside of your chin between his teeth. 

This was it. The beginning of an addiction you never wanted to rid yourself of.

There were a few more slams before he came. Hard. He was a vocal man. Grunting and groaning and cursing quietly as his cock twitched inside you. 

Your legs were shaking, and if it wasn’t because he was holding you, you were sure you would’ve fallen to your knees. And he didn’t let go of you for a moment, his cock still inside you. 

You needed to know what he was thinking, see his face. 

You took a sharp breath to speak, but he slipped his cock out and you gasped. His cum dripped down.

“Sorry,” he murmured and was quick to clean you with a tissue. 

You finally turned around and caught a look on his face you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t disappointment. But it wasn’t a positive thing. 

“This“—he began, buttoning his pants—“changes everything.” He glared at you. 

You adjusted your skirt and pressed your lips together. “I know.” 

“And it can’t happen ever again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach for a second as he added, “Not here.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip

You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile.  

“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” You walked up to him, placing your palm flat over his chest. His heart was still racing. “Not here.”

You kissed him, and he kissed you back.

“Should we, uh, leave together?” you asked, licking your lips.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You can leave first.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” 

“See you tomorrow.” He nodded and stole another kiss before you left.

You walked out of the building so put together as if nothing had happened, and kept a straight face until you were inside your car.

“Holy fuck,” you laughed; squealed, almost.

That really happened. You covered your face with both hands trying to come back to earth. 

You decided to drive off before Hotch appeared in the parking lot, or else you wouldn’t resist taking him right there all over again. You replayed what had happened in your head the entire drive and as soon as you made it home, he texted you. 

I hope you know this isn’t something casual or unimportant to me. 

You smiled. You loved that he couldn’t hide his professionalism when texting. 

I know, you texted back, for me either. Believe me

Good, he replied.

Goodnight, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you agreed: no one could know about it. 

He explained to you, when no one was around, how relationships within the bureau had a reputation. It would’ve been different if he was at the same level as you, but since he was your superior, it wouldn’t be well seen. 

So this being a secret was more for him than for you, but you didn’t mind. It was such a rush. The whole forbidden thing did something to you, which caused you to be horny at work more than once. 

But he made up for it when you saw each other at his place or yours. 

There, it was different. You allowed yourself to be softer and he didn’t hold back any kiss or touch. His affection confused you, though, since the talk hadn’t come up yet. The ‘what are we?’ talk, and you didn’t want to be the girl who asked that after the second date.

There was sex—lots of it—, there were dinners, movie nights, and everything couples did, so it made sense if you asked, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to spoil the magic. 

Because it was magical, your lives took an awful turn when you got your hearts broken and you both were right at the curve to meet each other. He’d been there, in front of you this whole time and a fragment of you glued back together every time he stared into your eyes while nothing was said. While he caressed your face and kissed you just because he wanted to. He managed to heal you between the lines, with subtle words that’d get stuck at the back of your mind. 

And the more you two met outside work—whether it was at his place or yours, his bed, or a fancy hotel room—your feelings for him intensified. 

They were worse on nights like these, when you found yourself tangled between sheets with him after sex, talking about anything and everything. 

He often had an expression of everlasting love. 

At least, you liked to think that way. 

“What are you thinking?” He asked you with that glimmer in his eyes.

You sucked in a breath and brushed the front pieces of his hair with your fingers. “Did you get Morgan’s wedding invitation?”

You don’t know why, but he laughed. “I did, yes.”

“I think we should bring a date.”

“Why?”

“We have a plus one and… I don’t know. I’m gonna be wearing a dress so for your sake, I should have a date. That isn’t you.”

“Oh, really?” He teased, placing a kiss on your ear. 

“This is inappropriate, Agent Hotchner, I’m your subordinate.” You laughed. You were ticklish there.

“Not when you’re in my bed.” He adjusted himself on top of you, lowering to kiss you. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

You laughed again. 

You loved it.

Loved him. 

I hope you liked it!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts about it too!🤭❤️‍🔥

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!!

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[navstuffs]

About Tradition and Responsibility

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x WifeF!Reader

Summary: You, a non-Jujutsu sorcerer, married the Gojo Satoru. After having your first child, the higher-ups demand to meet you and your first born son.

Warning tags: protective!Satoru, tiny angst if you squint, non-jujutsu sorcerer reader, no y/n usage

Author's Notes: hiii, i wrote this based on my own post, having one of my favorite tropes (protectiveness)! this might have a second part i haven't wrote yet, we shall see. enjoy your reading!

You keep your head down, trying to focus on the peaceful expression of the baby in your arms, your first newborn son, Kotaro. He is perfect, from his white curls to his tiny toes. You can't help but give him a small smile, your hands gripping his little body, promising silently to always protect him from any harm in the world. You feel so much love for your son that it is difficult to understand anyone who could find his existence wrong due to one ridiculous minuscule detail: when Kotaro opens his eyes, they are your eye color. Not your husband's vivid, ethereal blue eyes. 

Because of that, Kotaro Gojo is considered a waste of time—almost a mistake, but no one would dare say that in front of you or his father.

The door in front of you opens, and an older lady announces that the elders are ready to see you. You get up from the bench, bringing Kotaro closer to your chest. 

It is finally time to face your curses.

-x-

When Gojo Satoru decided to marry a non-jujutsu user, the higher-ups thought it was a joke. A good one especially coming from Gojo, who was known to do anything to piss off the hierarchy of the Jujutsu world, as if Satoru's whole existence wasn't on top of all that, as if any of those ancient and outdated men had anything to complain about the woman he chose as his wife.

However, when Gojo decided to proceed with this marriage, most were still shocked. They never thought Gojo would marry anyone, so soon, interest spiked in the mysterious woman he decided to marry. 

You wish you could tell your first meeting with the strongest sorcerer had been something glorious, but no. It was in your small candy shop, the one passed down to you by your parents from their parents. On a rainy day, that strange tall man with white bandages and white hair entered, sniffing the air like a hound dog. Gojo insisted on buying all the sweets you had on display, and instead of leaving, heard you explain how you made each of them, fascinated. 

After that day, Satoru started appearing daily, buying all the sweets on display by the end of the day. Gojo always mentioned he first fell in love with your cooking, but you didn't know when exactly you fell in love with him. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone understand those sudden chills around your body as if something had been watching you until Satoru entered the shop. He never found that weird at all. 

At first, Gojo kept you away as best as he could. You could sense curses with a chill in your body but couldn't see them (a blessing, for what Gojo described sometimes). And since you met your now-future-husband, as powerful as you could remotely grasp he was, Gojo was also the silliest and most annoying man you ever met. If you got upset with something he did for any reason, he would not leave you alone until you reassured him you weren't mad anymore. On top of that, Satoru was easily manipulated with sweets. Again, a big grown baby.

He never shared the consequences of what it meant to marry him. The letters started coming two months after the marriage, with your name on them, presenting themselves as chairpeople of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and they were eager to meet you whenever you could. Gojo always told you to ignore those letters, throw them in the trash, and burn them if you wanted. 

Then Kotaro was born. It had been a normal pregnancy, with the usual sickness in the morning and mood swings, but at least your baby was born healthy. You couldn't be happier, and Gojo couldn't be happier. The baby not having the same blue eyes didn't concern your husband, reassuring you that everything was fine.

Until it wasn't: the letter that made you come into this meeting with the elders without your husband's knowledge had a clear underlying threat in those polite words: You were to bring Kotaro for them to look at, or they would be forced to bring you in. Gojo had shielded you from this for far too long.

As soon as you enter the oval room, you notice the covers: you can't see any faces, but you are sure all stares are on you and your baby. Kotaro rubs his face against your chest, and you bring him closer, shielding him from their judgmental glances.

"Come forward." A masculine voice demands.

You walk in the middle of the room and stop. No one speaks.

"You wanted to see me?" You ask, surprised your voice isn't trembling. You wonder if they can hear your heart exploding in your chest. 

"Yes. We never had the chance to meet with the wife of Gojo Satoru; he has kept you hidden for a long time."

"I am sure he had his reasons." 

"Not that it matters who Gojo Satoru decided to marry, but his decisions impact the Jujutsu World, wanting or not." An older voice speaks, clearly angry with your disobedience. 

"And who would stop him from making those decisions?" You question, trying to sound courteous but instead sounding resentful. Satoru has told you about these higher-ups: focused on their old ways, not allowing anything that disturbs their way. Only their way is correct. Tradition. Anything that breaks from the fine formal line should be eliminated. "No one can stop Gojo Satoru from doing what he wants. As his wife, I should be the first one to know."

Silence. You breathe deeply, part of you still fearful of what is about to come. They have yet to speak about Kotaro, so you dread the inevitable moment. Now, something deep inside of you screams you should have told Satoru. What if you walked straight into a trap?

"Your child." A third voice speaks, and the whole atmosphere of the room seems to change when he mentions your son. You grip Kotaro's small body again, ready for what will come. "He does not possess the same eyes as his father, as we can see."

"So? It is not like every single member of the clan was born with six eyes." You ask defiantly.

"Of course not," The man snickers. "But this is Gojo Satoru's son. Haven't you thought about the consequences of having a child with a man like that?"

"Satoru keeps us safe! And if he isn't here, I keep my child safe. Never underestimate the love a mother has for her child."

"There is no doubt in a mother's love for her child. There is also no doubt that some might carry a heavy hatred for Gojo Satoru. If, for some reason, you were caught vulnerable…"

"What? What are you talking about?" Your voice shakes a little, but you keep yourself steady. For Kotaro.

"Many curses and even sorcerers have hidden and disappeared because of Gojo. Many fear him. When your husband was born, he altered the balance of our world. If there is an even remote possibility Gojo can't defend himself or, even worse, if you get pregnant again and this baby comes with six eyes…we can't even imagine how bad it would be the repercussions." The tone of false concern disgusts you. Sensing your uneasiness, Kotaro starts whining, and you start rocking him. 

You are not stupid. Those men didn't care about you or your baby's safety. They wanted six eyes that they could control, nothing else, nothing more. You haven't given any proof that you are worthy of being married to Satoru.

You don't get to answer because the door behind you opens, and all eyes are directed to the man behind you. You don't even have to turn around, your sixth sense telling you: Satoru. And he is pissed. He takes a moment to analyze the room in front of him, seeing you in the middle with your son in his arms, crying. His son crying. Gojo walks in, no blindfold on, without asking for permission (not that anyone was waiting for one), and ignores everyone as he stops right before you.

His blue eyes scan you and Kotaro from the top of your head to the feet, concerned. 

"Are you okay? Is Kotaro okay?" Satoru asks in a gentle tone, ignoring anyone around. You nod, starting to form an apology, but he shakes his head, calming you. "There's nothing to apologize for. You did well. You always do well. Stand beside me, okay?"  

You nod as Satoru forms a shield between you and the higher-ups. Surprisingly, Kotaro has stopped whining, feeling his dad is close by. No one speaks, and everyone seems to be holding down their breaths.

"So," Satoru's tone is calm, "who cares to explain how my wife and son ended up here?"

No answer comes, and you can sense the fear over the room, which differs from your husband's posture. Those who don't know him might believe in Satoru's calm posture, but you and probably the rest of the elders knew this was only a façade. In Satoru's veins, there is only anger. The only reason any of those higher-ups are still alive is because of your and Kotaro's presence. Not because Satoru would hurt you or his son if he had to kill them, but because he didn't want to shock you or accidentally make you fear him. You had never seen him kill before.

You don't know yet what lengths he would go to protect you and his child.

"We were just worried about her well-being, that's all." Some brave higher-up answers and Gojo snickers.

"Oh? More worried than her husband then?"

"You know, we had to meet her eventually. You kept her away from our world, your world, for far too long."

"And she was fine until you brought her into this. My wife and my son are none of your concerns."

"Not if she births a child with six eyes. Then it is our concern." Your body tenses behind Gojo, immediately causing him to react back, his murderous energy filling the room. If you felt it, those elders felt it as well, silencing them.

Kotaro starts crying again, sensing the threatening energy in the room. You had never felt such a destructive sensation coming from your husband before, but you managed to grab Satoru's arm.

"'Toru? Kotaro is scared." And you are scared.

The energy instantly leaves, and Satoru turns around, worried. You tremble with fear, and Kotaro bawls, tears dropping from his eyes. He instantly places his black blindfold on his eyes before taking Kotaro from your arms and gently rocking him. 

"Can we leave, please?" You ask, and Satoru nods, grabbing your hand with his free one. Before turning around to leave, he announces in a frightening tone to the entire room, "If I ever hear any of you trying to make any sort of contact with my wife or son, I won't be so merciful."

With that, Gojo Satoru pulls you away from that horrible place you promised to never see again.

-x-

Satoru dismisses the driver who drove you there. Instead, he takes you to his car, finding Kiyotaka Ijichi with a nervous smile when he sees you. You manage to smile back, and Ijichi seems relieved that you and Kotaro are okay. The ride home is silent, and Satoru never lets go of your hand. Kotaro is in the other one, sleeping safely in his arms. You can't bear to look at your husband, too afraid of what you are about to see: disappointment? Anger? He would be right to feel like that. You endangered not only yourself but Kotaro in this whole situation.

After Ijichi leaves you at home, you gently take a sleepy Kotaro away from your husband's arms. Satoru had this enchantment with your son, making him feel calm and safe. Like mother like son, you guess. You place Kotaro gently on his mat, watching as he gets comfortable. How careless of you to put your son in such a dangerous situation.

"Do you want to talk about this?" Satoru whispers, and you shake your head.

"I am sorry." To Kotaro. To Satoru. To yourself. "I thought I could—"

Satoru slowly closes the proximity between you two. He waits, watching the tears flowing down your eyes, sitting at your side, and when you hide your face on his shoulders, his arms are around you, bringing you to his lap.

"You had no idea."

"I endangered our son! Do you know how serious that is?"

"You would never let them do anything to him."

"How would I even stop them, Satoru?"

"I don't know, but I know you. You would find a way." Satoru simply shrugs, which sounds to him like the most obvious answer, and you don't know if you laugh or cry or his hopes on you. "Which would involve bringing me there."

"Yes, bring my most dangerous weapon: Satoru Gojo." You two chuckle low so you don't wake up Kotaro.

"Nothing will ever happen to you or Kotaro. I won't allow it. Be sure of it."

"They said you have enemies…"

"Who wouldn't dare to lay a finger on one stray of Kotaro's hair. Or yours. Come on, you don't have some faith in me?"

Remembering the amount of energy you felt earlier, you feel a chill pass your body. "I do, 'Toru. I was crazy enough to marry you."

"And would you lose the chance to be the luckiest woman alive?"

"With the most pretentious husband ever." You roll your eyes, feeling happy inside. The earlier one may have scared you. But you know this Satoru, back to his usual pretentious self. 

You get more comfortable in Satoru's lap, your eyes never entirely leaving Kotaro. He looks so peaceful with his eyes closed like that; he is Satoru 100%, except for his eyes. What blame did he have? You vowed to protect and love him as soon as he came out of you, no matter what came after him. And by the looks on Satoru's face, he also does.

Slowly, you can feel your eyes getting heavy as you become more comfortable in Satoru's arms—like a mother, like son. 

"Rest, my love. I will take care of it all. I will never leave you, I promise."

[youronlydarlin]

I know this is like short notice and you basically just posted the loser!simon Drabble but omg I need more. I’ve so far never seen a fic that lets Simon relax while you ride him or something. I’ve seen similar, but if you wouldn’t mind could you make a fic following Simon being super tired, and when he gets home you were a horny mess and then you make him a horny mess but he doesn’t have the energy to jerk it so you help him out. Fem reader please!! I really want him to use the rest of his energy to like play with your tits and then lay down.

Also you’re the only person I tolerate for the !! For smutty stuff. Usually it makes me cringe because it feels so childish. But you do it in a hot way. I think. Idk. I like the energy you put in ur writing if ykwim

warnings: fem! afab! reader, kinda subby Simon??, bro's down bad for you and thinks you're a goddess, relaxed Si :)

Wjahskshsjjs jus' somewhat lazy sex with the good ol' big british man. He's sure comes home tired and late. He has been for the past few days. It hadn't really affect you in a way that disrupted your everyday routine. But lately there's been a craving, an issue brought by your brain to your heart that lately it's been feeling... neglected. It starts as a distant feeling, an untouched part of your body that longs to be noticed. It's like chaising after a mysterious high while blinded, no sense of direction, and no chance of ever finding it. Leaving you feeling lonely and trapped, cold and empty. So, to put it simply. You're pent up. All hot and bothered and way too eager to slip your hands in your pants. Lucky for you though, your night won't end with just self satisfaction, because barging in through the door is your saviour, all tired eyes and gruff groans. Fuck. It's like you've pavlov'd yourself into getting incredibly horny at just the sight of your Si.

He on the other hand, feels like shit. Being away from you is more than enough torture, but having you pounce on him the moment he enters through the door is another new story on itself. He's neglected his baby :( his pretty girl. All quiet whimpers when you kiss him all over the neck "missed you s' much Si". Shit, he's already half chubbing in his pants at just hearing your tone. It's not long before he goes cum brained as well. Thinking with the wrong head and dry humping you in the hallway. You're squealin' n moanin' and oh shit he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to– You pull away. Now if it was any other day he would've shot you a glare. Maybe even disappointedly shaking his head. "Careful, love, you're playin' with fire.." he would've said, but right now he's red in the face, sweaty and desperate. Rolling his hips into nothing, hoping to get it to rub into you. Simon looks weak and he knows, slightly enjoys the power imbalance between you two because now you've grabbed him by the collar like a dog and dragged him towards the couch.

On his lap not a second later and you two are back to humping at each other through your clothes. He's tired. Limbs so heavy, bones weighed down with fatigue and he feels like he's already dreaming. You're like a wet dream that's come to life. There's just something about the way you look at him that makes it impossible to lay his eyes on anything else. Like a goddess on a thrown. That's how he sees you. Mighty and malevolent, feeling so small in your gaze but drinking it all in like a man parched, nothing can bring you down. Despite this– the tiredness of his bones– he wills his arms to move. To help you take off your top. It's intimate and it has his breath catching in his throat. He's seen you shirtless countless times before, but the thrill, the electrifying sparks it sends up his spine, it always feels new. Panting like a mutt he hasn't even noticed that he's already been let out of his pants, too busy admiring your chest. Reaching his hand out to toy with the soft peak, letting out an accidental whimper at the sudden contact of your hands with his hard cock. You shush him, remind him to relax, you can handle this, you promise with a kiss to the tip of his nose. And just like that he's sinking into the couch. Eyes closed in bliss and a handful of your mounds in his hands.

Heaven on earth. Blooming flowers in the harsh winter. Rain after months of drought. This is peace. This is pleasure. Simon's convinced that there's no earthly power greater than your hands, or your soft kisses. The gentle timbres of your voice. The way your pussy feels so hot and welcoming. So occupied and drunk off of your divinity that he hasn't had the time to prepare himself for your hot walls enveloping all of him inside. It makes his eyes shoot open and his back arch. You don't move, leaning down to put your mouth against his, swallowing every moan and whimper, and rewarding him with a teasing grind. He lays pliant soon enough, groaning at the way you bring yourself up till the tip kisses your entrance, before snapping your hips down to get him back inside. You ride him like you can't live without it. Sweet girl with an equally sweet pussy. He thought you well.

a/n: PHEW, I'm rusty as shits forgive me, I've got other stuff cooking in my drafts I swear I'm not lazy. This was kinda bad, written in two hours cause I sneaked this in between doing my papers. Hope y'all liked this, remember to always drink water n take your meds!!

Yours, truly,

–Dolly

[yuyu1024]

Babe

Pairings: S.coups × y/n

Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)

i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...

meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤

(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)

Me writing... is depending if im okay.

Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.

Thank you.

P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.

-----------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.

He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.

"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.

"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug

"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.

He never lost his strength.

"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you

"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head

"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.

"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."

"Okay, doc. Thank you."

And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.

It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.

You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.

"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.

"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand

"Yeah... I got busy healing..."

"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"

"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple

"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder

"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."

"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"

And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.

"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."

"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."

But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.

He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.

"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.

"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.

"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.

"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.

He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.

"You promised... no one should know..."

"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.

"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder

He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.

You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.

So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.

"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"

"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."

He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.

"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"

You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.

"Y/N..."

"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."

"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."

"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."

You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.

He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.

"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.

"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.

"Okay..." you lower your gaze.

You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.

You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."

"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."

"Wait. What?" You ask

The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.

"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks

"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."

"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend

"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.

This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.

***

You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.

It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.

"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."

"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say

"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says

You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."

"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.

"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.

"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them

And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.

"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"

Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"

"No..."

"And then... stay...."

"But... my parents..."

"I already told them... they are fine with it."

"When?"

"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."

You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine

"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."

"That's not it."

"Then what?"

You sigh. You are lost for words.

Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.

You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.

"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.

Now you are the one in the bad mood.

"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.

"Okay." You answer not looking at him.

You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...

"Babe." He calls you

You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.

"Can you please come here..." he says

You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.

"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.

"But... your leg..."

"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.

Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but

"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.

And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.

"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."

"Why...?" He pouts

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.

"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."

He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."

"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."

"You sure?"

"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."

"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.

"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say

He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.

"I know what you're doing..." he hums

"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."

His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."

"What will you do?"

"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."

"And...?" You put your forehead to his.

"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."

Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.

"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."

"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.

You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.

"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.

"Should I... let the tip touch me?"

"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.

You already removed your panties off without him noticing.

"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.

"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."

You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.

"Holy... shiiiiit!"

"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.

"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."

When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.

"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."

"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.

"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."

"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."

"You do?"

You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."

"You miss my dick?" He tease

"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.

"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."

Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.

"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."

"You like that?"

"I do."

Then you start to move yourself.

You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.

"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.

"Just let it go..."

"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.

"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."

"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Babe..."

"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."

"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you

It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.

"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.

He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.

"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."

Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."

"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."

"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."

A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."

You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."

[canthelpit0]

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader )if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” You huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at you victoriously. He lays down next to you staring into your eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

[jobean12-blog]

Donut: The Hole Story

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 969

Summary: When you stop at your favorite donut shop to grab some sweets on the way home from work they only have one left of your favorite flavor so you do what any other person would do...even though it's your husband's favorite too.

Author's Note: This is just because. We recently got some donuts from one of my favorite shops nearby and I just love writing about our fave guys with sweet things! If you wanna to check out the donut place you can find their website HERE. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fluffy sweetness and fun

*All text messages in italics*

You: I’m on my way home Buck! Going to stop at the bakery, I want something sweet 🥰

Bucky: Ok doll face. And I got somethin’ sweet waiting for ya at home 😉😏

You: I know and I definitely want some…but I also want a Dough donut 🍩I’ve been craving it all day 😁

Bucky: Want me to come and get you on my bike? I can leave now and I’ll take you right to Dough❤️

You: I’m already half way there but I hate to miss a ride with you…take me after we have dinner and donuts? 😍

Bucky: Of course doll, be careful, love you❤️

You: I will love you too, see you soon!❤️

Bucky: AND DONUTS!🍩

You: YAY DONUTS!🍩

Before you even get the door of your apartment open Bucky does it for you, filling the frame with his broad shoulders and even broader smile.

Your greeting is cut off when he grabs you around the waist, tugs you inside, shuts the door- all in one smooth and quick motion- and presses you against it, his body caging you in while his lips cover yours.

“Mm you taste extra sweet,” he murmurs when he pulls away to let you breathe.

“Hi Buck,” you giggle.

He kisses you again, cradling your cheek in his hand and softly grazing just under your eye with the sweep of his thumb.

“Really sweet…” he whispers against your lips.

“Wait a second…” he mutters.

He kisses you again.

“Did you…?”

And another kiss.

“You ate one already didn’t you?!” he grumbles.

He pulls back with wide blue eyes, his mouth hanging open to match.

“Ate one what?” you ask, feigning perfect innocence with a bat of your lashes.

His mouth chases yours and his body keeps you pressed to the door.

“A TOASTED COCONUT TOO!”

“BUCKY!”

“IS THERE ANOTHER?” he asks with an accusatory tone as he frantically pats you down.

“Do you think I’m hiding the donuts in my clothes?” you laugh with a raised brow. “Or are you just trying to cop a feel?”  

“I’m always trying to cop a feel,” he winks before his expression morphs back into suspicion.

You bend down and grab the box you unceremoniously dropped to the floor when he pulled you into the apartment.

He takes it from your hand and narrows his eyes, holding the box covetously close to his chest.

With one more kiss to your lips he rushes off to the counter and rips open the top of the box. He stares at the full box of twelve donuts for several seconds before meeting your eyes.

You walk over and wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

“See? A full box of donuts!”  

“But…” he starts, grabbing your arm and pulling you under his to bring you around to face him so he can kiss you again. “There’s not toasted coconut!”  

You shrug with nonchalance and smile sweetly. “They were all out. It is the end of the day so…”

He studies your face and tightens his grip on your waist.

“No they weren’t. There was one left and you ate it on the way home!”  

Your shoulders lift to meet your ears in another act of indifference and you try to turn in his arms so you can grab a donut.

“No,” you answer. “I wouldn’t do that. But I’d like one now.”  

You manage to wiggle your way around and look down at the donuts, tapping your cheek as you try to decide on which one to eat first.

Just as your hand reaches out for a blueberry lemon the top of the box shuts.

“BUCK!” you squeak. “What the heck!?”

He pushes the box to the other side of the counter and in another smooth move that’s too fast for you to fight he has you turned around and seated atop the surface, trapped by his body.

You cross your arms over your chest.

“Can I eat my donut please?” you huff.

“Not until you admit you ate the one toasted coconut left on the way home,” he counters with a smirk.

You lift your chin defiantly but you don’t answer.

“I knew it!” he shouts. “I can’t believe you ate it without waiting to share with me!”

You try and scooch off the counter so you can eat another donut but he doesn’t let you move.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he simpers.

“I want a donut.”

“You already had one doll.”

Your lips press together and you scowl.

“I can’t believe you’re denying me donuts Buck!”

“I just wanna hear you say it doll.”

“And if I don’t?” you challenge.

“No donuts.”

“You wouldn’t!”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Try me baby doll.”

You grunt and punch him in the chest.

He just smiles.

“I can’t believe you Barnes!”

He doesn’t budge and just stares with a triumphant grin.

You stare right back and slowly your lips curl into a smirk as an idea forms in your head. Without another word you press your chest to his and wrap your legs around his waist, gently rocking your hips. Your arms circle his neck and you run your fingers through his hair.

His fingers dig into your skin before slipping under your shirt and slowly inching higher.

Your fingers slide from his hair and down over his shoulders then bunch into his shirt to tug his lips closer.

“A distraction?” he hums. “Really?”

“I don’t see you trying to stop me,” you whisper.

Your fingertips dance lower, tracing the waistband of his jeans.

“No,” he murmurs. “Why would I ever want to do that?”

“And I’ll just have my donut after I have you.”

“That’s what you think,” he says right before kissing you, easily distracting you with his hands, lips and everything that's him.

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) A Rainy Evening With Him

Author's Note: Happy Bad Batch eve! I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Storms, Established Relationship, Fluff

The air on Pabu was rather humid. Well, it always was. But you detected something else in the air late that afternoon in the middle of a project. You paused your task to look up at the sky, noting the gray clouds that were gradually rolling in. The wind picked up and tugged at a nearby banner so hard that you could hear the fabric whipping repeatedly.

The citizens of Pabu began to pack up and head indoors. Boats were making their way in for the evening. No one was panicked. There was no rush. Everyone was moving in an unhurried, orderly manner, but with purpose.

You looked around for a particular Bad Batcher in hopes of finding him before the rainstorm began...

Hunter:

It seemed as if Hunter had been looking for you too. You saw him standing at the base of a stairwell, tilting his head to search the crowd of people making their way to their homes. When he locked eyes with you, that familiar smile crossed his features. He took your hand, drawing you closer to him.

"Storm's coming," he said. "But you already knew that. it's nothing major, but it's not the kind of weather to be working in."

"Ah, so that's why everyone's making their exit," you said, glancing around. Hunter nodded and began leading you up the stairs, off toward where the Batch's quarters were.

Just as you made it to the patio, a few droplets fell on your skin. You and Hunter both walked under the cover of the patio, watching as more drops fell, speckling the stone floor outside. It was a quaint little patio with a cushioned swing. You gave Hunter's hand a tug and went over to sink into the cushion comfortably. He followed the unspoken request, pressing his leg against yours as you both sat side-by-side on the swing.

Hunter put an arm around you, and you leaned into the contact. His warm scent mingled with the salty sea air, like a sandalwood candle.

"I love this weather," you admitted. "Sunny days are great, but there's something about a little rainstorm once in a while."

He nodded in agreement. "The air smells good."

After that, neither of you felt the need to say anything more.

He planted a kiss on your head, and the two of you enjoyed the wind and the sound of the rain falling on the top of the patio, until it was time to go inside.

Wrecker:

You saw Wrecker on the docks, having just come in from fishing on a boat. He smiled when he saw you, strutting over to give you a big hug in greeting.

"They said there's a storm, so we are done for the day," he informed you, setting you down gently. His hand didn't release yours. "We should probably get back before the rain hits."

"Good idea," you replied with a nod. The two of you moved with the steady flow of the crowd as they headed back to their homes. There was no hurry, even as the wind continued to pick up and blow palm tree leaves around. By the time you reached the first stairwell, a few droplets of rain fell on your cheeks and hand.

"Oh, it's starting!" you remarked, showing him the drop on your hand. Wrecker grinned as a few fell on him also, and the two of you automatically began to move just a little faster. The crowds had cleared for the most part, so you could pick up your pace.

At one point, Wrecker just lifted you up and carried you up the final set of stairs, with the both of you laughing in glee as the rain started to pour. He barreled into the Bad Batch's living quarters, quickly plopped you down on the nearest cushion, and shut the door. Your body shook with laughter as you got to work on gathering some blankets and pillows. Wrecker helped you make a little spot for the two of you to curl up under some blankets and watch the rain.

Wrecker held you securely against his chest, his arm extended, so that you could rest your head on it beside him. The rain began its barrage on the roof and against the windows, but it began to fade into a dull sound in the distance as you focused on Wrecker's breathing and the low rumble of his voice as you both talked.

Tech:

You made your way to the one place you knew Tech would be. Normally, he'd be out working on projects somewhere across Pabu; but after the Bad Batch's latest mission, the current ship the squad occupied needed some fine-tuning.

Okay, perhaps a little more than fine-tuning.

The thud of your shoes on the ramp paused as you stopped to take in the state of the weather once more. Things had certainly moved along since you began your trek to the ship. Rain clouds cast the island in a gray darkness, though you could still see the sun peeking out in the distance.

One drop plummeting to the sand turned into two, and then that turned into many. Pretty soon, it became a downpour. You closed your eyes to enjoy one more gust of wind before climbing the rest of the way up the ramp. You walked down the hall of the dark ship rounded the corner to see the incredible mind himself seated in the cockpit.

He seemed to be running a diagnostic to finalize the repair process on his datapad. He heard your approach and looked up.

"Oh, hello." He greeted you in a light, airy tone as he adjusted his goggles. "I saw the storm, and I was just about to comm you."

You smiled affectionately at his concern. "Well, I'm here. How's it looking?" You leaned over to peek at his datapad over his shoulder, and he scrolled through the results of the scan for you to see.

"It took me all morning and this afternoon, but everything seems to be in order."

"That's great. I'm glad to hear that." You took a seat in the co-pilot's chair, watching the ripples of rainwater pounding against the shield of the ship. "It's so beautiful out."

Tech's gaze found yours again, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just like rain every now and then. The air smells so fresh, and the wind feels kind of exhilarating."

"I can relate in finding beauty in it," he agreed. "Although, I am glad to have completed the repairs before the shift in weather. It would've been...inconvenient."

You nodded. "Certainly." While Tech went back to finalizing his work, you smiled at an idea that popped into your head. You rose from the chair and headed into the back to grab some blankets and pillows from the bunks. When you returned, Tech looked up curiously to see you arranging them just so on the floor beside some crates in the hall.

You extended your hand toward him, motioning for him to join you. "Now that you're done, come sit with me?"

Tech typed something out lightning fast on his datapad before shutting it off. To your delight, he sat down against the crates and opened his arm for you to scooch in up against his side.

"This is...nice," he said, gazing down at you with a soft smile on his You breathed in his scent, exhaling contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder.

With the rain pounding against the hull of the ship, you two spent the rest of the stormy evening just talking and exchanging a kiss or two.

Echo:

You were already inside the Bad Batch's quarters, shaking the rain from you, when the front door opened. Echo entered, glancing around as if he were looking for you. When he saw you, his whole expression lightened.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," he said. "That storm rolled in pretty fast."

"Yeah, it sure did," you replied, taking his hand in yours and giving him a soft kiss on the lips in greeting. "Isn't it nice, though? We get to relax for the rest of the evening."

He seemed entranced by the kiss and nodded. "Uh-huh, very nice."

"Want to get cozy on the couch?"

Echo nodded at the proposition, and you snatched up a throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the both of you as you curled up on the couch together.

You laid your head on Echo's chest, listening to his heartbeat thrum within it. His hand rested on your back, occasionally patting it gently. Your gazes were fixed on the nearest glass window where you saw the wind carrying all sorts of tropical leaves in a flurry. The rain continued to escalate, and you sighed deeply in contentment.

Neither you nor Echo felt the need to speak for a while. You simply enjoyed the sounds of the storm outside and the close contact. At some point, the rise and fall of Echo's chest became slower, deeper. You realized that he had fallen asleep, and you smiled to yourself. Planting a kiss on his chin before settling back in, you let your own breathing slow. It wasn't long before your eyes grew so heavy that they fell shut, and you fell asleep.

Crosshair:

As soon as you'd heard that everyone was heading home for the evening, you started looking for one person in particular. Crosshair found you first, approaching you after you'd hardly begun your own search.

"It's nothing serious," he told you when you took his hand. "But it's nearly the end of the day anyway, so people are going home."

"Works for me," you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. He began to lead the way through the throngs of people making their way toward the steps. You relished the way his hand felt in yours, and the way the wind blew so fiercely against your skin, and the way it felt like you were breathing in the freshest air with each gust.

You and Crosshair made it to the Bad Batch's quarters and went inside just as the rain began to fall. You couldn't help but remain at the doorway with your hand resting on the glass, watching the gray clouds rolling over the island and he way the trees danced in the wind.

Crosshair had initially walked halfway across the room, but when he paused and noticed where you stood, he backtracked and returned to your side. He propped the door open and slid down to sit right in the doorway, looking up at you in an unspoken offer.

You smiled and scooched in next to him, breathing a sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder and felt another gust of wind blow over you. It made you shiver, and yet you felt so cozy.

"Thank you," you whispered, and you felt Crosshair's chin rest on your head in response. His arm wrapped around you gently and took hold of your hand.

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you watched the storm. You would exchange the occasional kiss, and you both stayed like that for some time, enjoying each other's company and also the weather...

[witchywithwhiskey]

trucker prince charming (part 2)

pairing: trucker!jake jensen x sex worker!female reader

summary: you take your favorite trucker up on his offer to meet him at his rig after you finish your shift at the strip club where you work—and it's better than you imagined, which means you're in trouble.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, condom discussion, dry humping, marking/hickeys, finger sucking, begging, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (kitten), sex worker insecurities, referenced glory hole sex, referenced abuse of power, love confession, a lot of emotions—let me know if i missed something!

word count: 9.5k

a/n: god i hope this chapter works 🫣 i struggled with it a bit, to make reader's reluctance consistent and believable. but i also wanted to to be like super romantic, so yeah, i hope it is!!! ahhh ok please enjoy more trucker jake—i hope y'all love him as much as i do!!!

trucker king masterlist

Excitement and fear roiled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel slightly queasy as you shoved your cash tips from the night into your purse in the back room of Diesel Dolls. In fact, you were trembling so hard, if you’d been wearing a pair of the sky high heels you wore when you worked the stage, you’d be worried about breaking an ankle. But your thoughts were elsewhere, on the trucker who was absolutely not your prince charming. 

As you gathered your things, all you could think about was your favorite trucker who visited you often in the glory holes at the back of the club. Jake Jensen was everything you shouldn’t want. He was one of Diesel Dolls’ most reliable regulars, always stopping by the glory holes when he passed by on the interstate—though, ever since he’d started coming to you, you were the only one he’d let take care of him.

Still, his status as a regular made any kind of outside relationship with him strictly off-limits according to the owner of the club, Mr. Ransom Drysdale. 

Mr. Drysdale didn’t take kindly to girls who formed relationships with his trucker clientele outside the club, he said it was too much of a risk of the girl stealing his business. And if Mr. Drysdale suspected anything, he was known for his harsh, humiliating punishments. He wouldn’t fire you if he found out you were planning to meet up with Jake after your shift, but he’d find a creative way for you to regret it.

Even with that thought in your mind, you couldn’t get Jake’s parting words out of your head. You kept hearing his friendly, sweet and deliciously deep voice saying to you, “I’m sleeping in my rig tonight…in case you wanna stop by.” 

Those had been the final words he’d spoken to you when he’d come to your spot at the glory holes earlier that evening, but he’d left before you could respond to the obvious offer. A part of you was grateful he hadn’t demanded an answer from you in the moment, since it meant you could think it over without any pressure from him. But it also meant that, hours later, you were still uncertain about what you were going to do. 

You were still debating it with yourself when you threw on a long jacket to cover the skimpy tank top and shorts you wore when working the glory holes, and walked out the back door of Diesel Dolls. There, you stopped short. 

In your preoccupation with Jake, you’d forgotten what to expect when leaving the club. A few of the other girls lingered outside smoking cigarettes and chatting with the security guards tasked with walking you and your coworkers to your cars. There was a bite of chill in the air that had you wrapping your coat tighter around your body while you wavered in indecision, the audience making you more anxious about what to do.

“Need a cig, girl?” asked Crystal, one of the girls that had been working at Diesel Dolls even longer than you. She held out her pack to you, her own cigarette pinched between two fingers, the smoke trailing up toward the late night sky. Her eyes were sharp as they watched you, even if her open expression seemed to be nice.

You gave Crystal a tight smile and shook your head, muttering, “No thanks.” You could feel Crystal’s eyes on you as you took two steps into the parking lot, which made the fear in your chest burn brighter than the excitement Jake’s offer had inspired.

Crystal liked to make herself out to be the motherly one of the bunch who worked at the club, the kind who would give advice to the new girls and commiserate with those who’d been working at Diesel Dolls too long. But you’d noticed the way things that seemed to only be said to Crystal had a way of getting back to Mr. Drysdale. That was enough to have your shoulders bunching up around your ears.

Crystal was the last person you wanted to see you walking to Jake’s truck. But you didn’t want to give up on him yet. You’d known Jake for a couple months while he’d been frequenting your glory hole, and you were so desperately curious about him, that you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity. So you pulled out your phone and pretended to be texting someone while you hoped the group outside the back door dispersed.

Thankfully, they all seemed to finish up soon enough and Crystal went back inside while the security guards split up to walk the other girls to their cars. You waved them off when they offered to walk you as well, claiming you had a ride coming and waited until they rounded the side of the building to where most of the girls parked their cars.

For a brief moment, you were alone with nothing but the clear night air and your thoughts. You knew it was a bad idea to go to Jake, but the pull you felt to him was too strong. It was bound to get you into some kind of trouble, whether with Mr. Drysdale or something you couldn’t even anticipate. You typically prided yourself in having a great deal of sense, but everything about your favorite trucker made you want to act like you didn’t have any. 

Before you’d even fully made up your mind, your feet began to carry you in the direction you knew you’d be able to find him. For once, your heart seemed to be making the decisions and though your brain was still listing all the ways in which things could go wrong—Jake could be horrid in person, or he could fuck you and go around the club bragging about it—they didn’t seem as important as finally finding out what it would feel like to fall into your favorite trucker’s arms. 

Diesel Dolls had a small parking lot in front and to one side of the building, but on the other side, there was a much bigger parking lot that the strip club shared with Everett’s Roadhouse. It was big enough to accommodate all the truckers and their rigs who frequented both the club and the bar. It also had special permissions that allowed the truckers to sleep there over night. 

It was to this parking lot that your feet carried you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you were swallowed up by the shadows of the massive trucks in the parking lot, your soft exhale masking the sound of the back door of Diesel Dolls closing. You didn’t hear it, though, because you were too focused on looking for the truck Jake had described to you.

Turning a corner around a big white rig, you spotted the truck that could only belong to your favorite trucker. And standing in front of it, leaning against the grill at the front, was a man. Your heart leapt in your chest as you realized it could only be him. Your favorite trucker. Your Jakey. 

Your breath caught in your throat and your feet stumbled to a stop. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and you took the moment to look him over, greedily raking your eyes down his body while he stared at something on his phone. 

Jake looked tall, even from the little bit of distance between you, with broad shoulders that filled out the bright green t-shirt he wore, which had some kind of graphic printed on the front. His jeans were a basic blue denim that fit him a little snugly, and he wore work boots that were kicking idly at the pavement of the parking lot, like he was struggling to be patient.

But what caught your attention the most about Jake was his face. You were a little surprised to discover that Jake wore glasses, but that was maybe because you’d never seen another trucker who wore them. You stared at his side profile for a long time, appreciating his strong jaw accented by the goatee framing his soft mouth. His dark hair lightened at the spiky tips, and for some reason, you found yourself craving to touch it, to run your hands through it.

All at once, you realized you’d been right about Jake—he was cute. And not just cute, he was fucking hot. You’d never seen a man who could pull off both, but your favorite trucker managed it. 

Your heart thudded in your chest and if you’d been thinking with anything but your heart, you’d have been worried about your reaction to the man who you knew you couldn’t be with. But you were only admiring your favorite trucker and thinking about how cute he looked waiting for you.

You didn’t realize you’d been slowly drifting closer to Jake until he straightened suddenly, and looked straight at you. Your breath froze in your lungs when you met his gaze, startling at the bright blue of his eyes, even shadowed as they were in the dim light of the parking lot. Your feet came to an abrupt stop and you waited anxiously while Jake took his own inspection of you, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t find you lacking.

But there was no long perusal of your body, only brief moment when eh let his gaze drop to your lips before he caught your eye again. A charmingly friendly grin spread across his handsome face, excitement rolling off him in waves that made you feel giddy.

“Kitten?” he asked, a little hesitantly. Almost like he was a little shy. 

If you hadn’t already been certain the man was Jake, his voice would’ve convinced you. It was warm and pleasantly deep, sending a delicious shiver of recognition down your spine, heat blooming in the depth of your core. A small, tentative smile curved the edges of your mouth as you walked closer to your favorite trucker, noticing that he stayed near his truck and let you come to him. 

“Jake,” you said, his name gusting past your lips in an awed exhale. He looked even more handsome up close, and your eyes couldn’t stop taking in the lines and curves of his face. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough of simply looking at him.

“You came.” He stated the obvious, his voice low and gruff with an emotion that tugged at something deep inside your chest. You were drawn in closer to your favorite trucker by some invisible tether that seemed to connect the two of you. So wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t even question why you felt so deeply for a man you were only truly meeting for the first time.

You came to a stop right in front of Jake, close enough you had to tilt your head back to hold his gaze—close enough you could feel the heat of him in the chilly night air. You wanted to press even closer and wrap yourself around the big, broad man, but you held yourself back, suddenly unsure how to act without a wall of plywood between you. 

“You’re cuter than I imagined,” you said, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them, amazement making your voice breathy.

But as soon as the words registered in your mind, you winced and pressed a hand over your mouth. You were about to apologize for the backhanded compliment when Jake laughed huskily, a little bit of pink tinging his cheeks, which only made him look even cuter.

“Ya think I’m cute, kitten?” he asked, his fingers reaching out and brushing against yours, electricity zinging through your body at just that brief touch. 

Your breath hitched as your body went haywire, desire flooding through your veins and making you sway into your favorite trucker. Jake seemed to notice your reaction because a grin spread across his face and he tangled his fingers with yours while he kept talking.

“Not hot, or sexy—or studly?” His voice went much deeper on that last word to emphasize it, and you couldn’t help the startled giggle that fled from your lips. You’d suspected Jake was funny, and you were delighted to discover you were right about that too.

Jake used the moment when your guard was down to pull you into his arms, where you landed against his chest with a small huff of surprise. Immediately, your laughter died in your throat and you stared up into Jake’s eyes while he watched you with a pleased smile curling the edges of his mouth.

The thought came to you suddenly: You could fall in love with Jake Jensen. In fact, you knew, somehow, that it would be as easy as breathing to fall in love with Jake. A small part of you even thought you already were falling in love with your favorite trucker. 

But as soon as you had those thoughts, you pushed them away, the fear you’d felt earlier rearing its ugly head. You couldn’t fall in love with Jake, not when you knew you’d never be able to be with him in the way you wanted. Developing feelings for him would only lead to getting hurt and you didn’t think you’d survive the kind of hurt falling love with Jake would lead to. So you forced yourself not to think about it.

Instead, you let yourself act on instinct. You reached up and traced your fingertips gently down the side of Jake’s face, your touch so light you weren’t sure if he could even feel it. But when you got to the plump curve of his lower lip, he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening as he stared down at you so intensely, your hand fell away to fist in the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I don’t meet a lot of cute guys in my line of work,” you whispered, the words part explanation, part distraction from the way Jake was looking at you like he planned to grab you and kiss you and never let you go. “It’s…” you trailed off, not knowing where you were going with that thought.

No, that was a lie, you knew exactly where you were going, you just got scared to continue it. But Jake was patient, and he waited, his gaze expectant, and you discovered you didn’t want to let him down—either with an attempt to change the subject or with a lie.

“It’s amazing,” you said, so softly, you weren’t sure he’d be able to hear. “You’re amazing, Jakey.” Your eyes fell to his lips, looking so soft and inviting. Your favorite trucker’s mouth was so tempting, and you knew you’d never be the same once he kissed you, which scared you more than a little, your heart thudding almost painfully in your chest.

Thankfully, Jake was brave enough for the both of you. 

His arms wound around your waist, knees bending to wrap you up in his hold and haul you up close to his chest, so you were left standing on tiptoes and staring up into his beautiful blue eyes. He lowered his face until your mouths were so close, you could taste the sharp mint of his breath on your tongue, but he didn’t close the distance. 

Your heart was racing with excitement and a little bit of fear, and you could feel Jake’s arousal through your clothes, but the tension of the moment was delicious and you didn’t mind if Jake wanted to take things a little slow. At least, for the moment.

“Fuck, kitten,” he rumbled, collapsing back against the grill of his truck while he stared at you with amazement in his blue eyes. “I’ll take cute as a compliment if you’re the one saying it,” he said, his voice pitched low and earnest. Your fingers twisted in his shirt, clinging to him as you watched the edges of his mouth curve into a grin. “Hell, you can call me a cute little pup and I’ll roll over so you can pet my belly.”

Jake’s arms squeezed you tightly, holding you pinned to his chest, and a distant part of you was surprised by the fact that you didn’t feel trapped by him. You felt impossibly giddy with happiness and excitement, warmth curling pleasantly through your body as you pressed tighter against him, feeling his hard cock digging into your stomach. He was so eager for you, and it was so hot because you wanted him just as badly, but you couldn’t help teasing him a little.

“I think puppy wants something more than belly rubs,” you murmured, a smirk curling your lips. You lifted one of your feet to rest on the grill of Jake’s truck, opening your legs to grind your core against his bulge, wringing a groan out of him, his hands fisting in the jacket at your back. 

“Mm, you feel so fucking good,” he rumbled in a husky voice, then paused, pulling back enough to catch your eye. He wore an adorably confused expression. “Hang on, are you calling me or my dick ‘puppy’?”

Jake’s question startled you so much, laughter burst free from your mouth unbidden; you had to tip your head back and close your eyes to let it loose. It was the hardest you’d laughed in a very long time, your body shaking in Jake’s arms and tears springing to the corners of your eyes. 

You could feel Jake chuckling right along with you, but when you finally sobered, he’d quieted and was simply looking at you, an emotion in his eyes that was so deep and terrifying it nearly stole all the breath from your lungs.

“You have the best laugh,” Jake muttered seconds before his mouth descended on yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your first kiss with Jake was everything you’d dreamed it would be, your body lighting up and your mind going blank in a combination of delight and arousal. His mouth was warm and soft on yours, the bristles of his goatee tickling your cheeks as your mouths slid together. A giggle rose in your throat and your mouth curved in a smile as giddiness flooded through you. 

Then Jake shifted his arms, one hand coming up to cradle your head while the other remained banded around your lower back, holding you exactly where he wanted you. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and coaxing a moan from you as he explored the depths of your mouth. Jake’s kiss was heady and all-consuming and you never wanted it to end—you wanted to kiss him forever and ever and ever.

By the time Jake pulled away, your lungs were burning for air and you were left panting, dragging in as much oxygen as you could. He seemed to be in much the same predicament, his chest expanding where you were draped against it, his heart beating wildly beneath where your fingers were clinging to his t-shirt.

“So, you got a bed in that big rig of yours,” you managed to ask, in between panting breaths. “Or are you planning to fuck me right here against your truck?” A cheeky grin curved your lips and you ground your core against Jake again for good measure, making his eyes go dazed and dark. His hands grabbed your ass and held you tight against his bulge while he seemed to freeze. 

For a long moment, Jake just stared at you like his brain had short-circuited, and your grin widened at the realization that you’d somehow managed to render your favorite trucker speechless. Then, all of a sudden, he seemed to come back online and he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Jake led you around to the driver’s side of his rig and opened the door, helping you up into the cab. You took a quick, cursory look around the inside of Jake’s truck as you moved directly into the backseat, where there was a soft cot covered in a haphazard pile of blankets. The bed was messy and unkempt in a way that made you smile because it just seemed so much like Jake.

Looking around, you noted that the truck cab was warm, and a little cluttered, but cozy in its own way. You’d never actually seen the inside of a long-haul truck despite servicing countless drivers at Diesel Dolls, but everything looked so high tech, you would’ve thought you were in the cockpit of a spaceship. All the dials and controls on the dashboard gave off a soft blue light, including some of the panels in the backseat around Jake’s bed. 

When you looked closer, there appeared to be a gaming system and TV rigged up in the back, and you smiled again, imagining your favorite trucker spending his spare time gaming by himself. You couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, wondering if Jake might be interested in letting you keep his cock warm while he played his games…

You were distracted from that thought by Jake hauling himself into the driver’s seat and shutting the door behind him. He had a determined look on his face while he locked the truck’s doors, checking to make sure the space was secure before he turned to you in the backseat. The corner of your mouth kicked up in a sultry grin and you leaned back on your hands, pushing your tits out as your jacket parted, revealing the tiny crop top and shorts you wore beneath it.

In the privacy of his truck, Jake let his eyes wander down your body, lingering on the way your nipples pushed through the thin cotton of your shirt. They tightened further under the intensity of his gaze, and your lips parted in a gasping breath as heat blazed between your thighs. 

But Jake’s eyes were already moving on, his gaze roving over the curves of your waist and hips and down to the plush softness of your thighs. You could almost feel his gaze like a lingering touch as he looked at your body properly for the first time. If you’d had a chance to feel at all insecure about whether he’d like your curves, the way Jake’s pupils blew wide with lust would’ve quelled it. 

Jake spent long moments simply looking at you and, after you’d taken your own moment to get your fill of him before he’d noticed you in the parking lot, you tried to be patient. But the way your body was responding to just Jake’s eyes on you made you squirm on the bed, your thighs falling open of their own accord in a wordless offering for your favorite trucker. Finally, your impatience won out.

“Now that you’ve got me in your truck,” you murmured in a husky purr, smiling seductively when Jake’s eyes met yours again. “What do you plan on doing with me?” You shifted your shoulders, letting your jacket slip down your arms in a way that you hoped was enticing enough to make him want to rip it off you entirely.

Jake’s eyes darted to your bare shoulders then back to your face before he moved from his seat, prowling toward you in a way that looked more predatory than you would’ve expected from your sweet and friendly trucker. The intensity of his gaze on you sent a thrill through your body that only heightened as he eased closer, his hands sliding beneath your jacket to grab your hips roughly. 

Holding your gaze captive with his own, Jake eased you down onto your back until you were laying in his bed, his big body covering yours. Your lungs were struggling for air, little panting breaths slipping past your lips as you followed Jake’s lead, a part of you surprised by how easy it was to give in to your favorite trucker’s whims. But you trusted him—you trusted him in a way that was probably unwise, and it occurred to you yet again that being with your trucker could lead to serious trouble for you.

But then you were laying down in Jake’s soft bed, his broad shoulders and beautiful blue eyes blocking out the rest of the world, and your worries miraculously faded—helped by the fact that Jake decided to finally answer your question.

“I’ve thought about this so many times, kitten,” Jake rasped, his tone raw with emotion that had your heart racing in your chest.

There was a vulnerability in Jake’s words, and you couldn’t help but reach for him, cupping his handsome face in your hands. A soft smile played at the edges of your mouth, but it deepened when Jake leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed while he nuzzled into your palms. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts enough to continue. 

“I’ve thought about getting you in my bed so many times, I can barely believe this is real,” Jake mumbled, the words sounding like they were wrenched straight from his heart. You could feel your own heart thump in response, a little bit of fear trickling through your body that you decided to ignore. “I plan to do everything with you kitten,” Jake murmured, opening his eyes and pinning you with his fervent gaze. “But most of all, I plan to keep you.”

Your breath froze in your lungs at Jake’s pronouncement, and fear flooded your heart. It was on the tip of your tongue to tell Jake it was impossible—he couldn’t keep you, not while you still worked at Diesel Dolls. Not while Mr. Drysdale still owned you.

Your entire livelihood was dependent on Mr. Drysdale and Diesel Dolls. He was the only one who’d hired you when you’d come to town. And, despite all his faults, Mr. Drysdale paid well—well enough that you could support yourself. If Jake jeopardized your job at Diesel Dolls, you’d have to become dependent on him to take care of you, and you didn’t know yet if he was the kind of man who’d do that, though the part of you that was falling love with him told you that he would.

It surprised you—and scared you—how much you wanted to give your heart and soul and everything to Jake. You yearned for him in a way you never had for any other man. You felt almost desperate for your favorite trucker to be true to his word, to keep you and take care of you and make you his in every possible way. 

But you had too much sense to let yourself fall into Jake’s arms completely just yet. So you reminded yourself that your life was not a fairytale, and Jake wasn’t your prince charming. No matter how much you might want him to be. Jake was a trucker, and if you knew one thing about truckers, it was that eventually, they always leave. It wasn’t worth risking your entire life for the chance of a happily ever after with him, even if your heart yearned for it.

So, while you wanted to believe Jake meant what he said—that he was going to keep you—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the time you had with him, no matter how brief it would have to be. Pulling him down for a soft kiss, you murmured against his lips.

“Do anything you want with me,” you whispered, eagerly giving your body to your favorite trucker, even as you held back from giving him your heart. “Wanna feel your cock inside me so bad, please, Jake,” you begged, muffling a whimper as you kissed his jaw.  

If Jake knew you were holding part of yourself back, he didn’t show it. Instead, he captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming all over your body, ripping off your jacket and tossing it into the front seat. As his tongue plunged into your mouth, he tugged off the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare beneath him before he pulled away to yank his shirt off over his head.

The movement knocked Jake’s glasses askew and you giggled at the sight of him, leaning up to nip at his jaw to stop yourself from calling him cute again. He huffed an impatient laugh and took his glasses off, tucking them into a compartment above your head. 

Even in the dim light of the backseat, Jake was still so attractive it took your breath away just looking at him. You couldn’t help yourself from pulling his face close to yours so you could kiss him sweetly. 

“So handsome, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, wanting so badly to tell him how much you liked him. You settled for wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding your bare core against the bulge in his jeans. “Look so fucking hot with glasses,” you said, pausing only to kiss him again before continuing, “and just as hot without them.”

Jake chuckled huskily, his hips pressing into yours to grind his bulge against your cunt, making you gasp while he kissed along your jaw. “What happened to calling me cute?” he murmured teasingly, nipping at the lobe of your ear and laughing again when you squirmed beneath him.

“You’re still cute,” you admitted on a gasp, humping against Jake from under his large body, trying desperately to get the friction you needed against your sopping wet pussy. “And handsome and hot and—god you’re everything, Jakey,” you cried, your desire driving you to grind harder against him, your body writhing like a cat in heat. “I need you, please!”

“Alright, alright,” Jake rumbled placatingly, easing your hips back down against the bed and untangling your legs from around his hips so he could undo his jeans. 

The loss of contact made you whine impatiently, and if need wasn’t blazing through you so hotly you would’ve wondered about what Jake had reduced you to—a needy creature so desperate for him that you were whining—but you didn’t care, you just wanted him. Jake kissed your cheek to mollify you while he fumbled with his jeans.

“Fuck, kitten,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and taking a deep breath to settle his shaking hands. “I’ve never met a woman who wanted me so bad.”

An anger you didn’t want to analyze too closely surged through your body at Jake’s statement. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you buried your hands in his hair and pressed hot kisses to his cheeks, his temple, his forehead, anywhere you could reach.

“All the women you’ve met are fucking idiots then,” you snarled, tugging Jake’s head to the side so you could kiss down the strong column of his neck. It wasn’t like you to say such things about other women, but you couldn’t even fathom not wanting Jake with a desperation that clawed through your body. Before you could stop yourself, your lips latched onto Jake’s neck and you began sucking on his skin, intent on leaving your mark on your favorite trucker.

“Fuck, jesus fuck,” Jake groaned, shuddering at the feeling of you sucking on his neck. His hands were shaking again, but he managed to push his jeans and boxers down, kicking them off as fast as he could manage in the tight confines of the backseat. 

Then, finally, his cock was free, and you reached for it eagerly with a familiarity that came from sucking him off so many times in the glory holes at Diesel Dolls. You stroked him with an eagerness like greeting an old friend, reacquainting yourself with the part of Jake’s body you knew best. His cock was just as perfect as always and all the desires you’d felt earlier that night came rushing back.

“Wanna worship your cock with my mouth, Jakey,” you murmured in his ear, your fingers stroking his stiff length slowly, teasingly, pausing briefly to smack your pussy with the tip and making both of your groan in pleasure. “You have the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen,” you confessed in a breathy whisper, your lips pressing kisses to Jake’s neck just beneath his ear. “I wanna kiss you and lick you and suck you and make out with your balls, Jakey, god, I could spend hours just playing with your cock.”

Jake’s full body shuddered again, and you smirked against his neck, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of your favorite trucker and feeling yourself get wetter for him. But then Jake was pushing up and tilting his face to yours, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that stole your breath and stilled your hand.

“You have the hottest mouth, kitten,” Jake murmured when he pulled away, his hand cupping your cheek and dragging his thumb over your lower lip. 

You sucked his finger into your mouth and bobbed your head a little while staring up at him, hoping he’d see how eager you were and let you move down his body and worship him the way he deserved.

Instead, Jake’s other hand knocked yours away from his cock, fisting himself while you whined and pouted around his thumb. He chuckled, removing his thumb from your mouth so he could kiss you again.

“You can suck me off another time,” he promised, rubbing the tip of his dick between your soaked folds and making you shiver beneath him. “I gotta feel your cunt or I’m gonna go fucking crazy.” His voice lowered to a deep rumble, his words only turning you on more, as impossible as that seemed. “Gotta know if your pussy feels as good as I’ve always imagined.”

“Jakey, please,” you cried breathlessly, digging your knees into his sides and tilting your hips up to try to take his cock into your weeping hole. “Need you, need you,” you mumbled, humping against the tip of Jake’s dick, until a thought crashed into your mind. 

You’d never fucked anyone—at Diesel Dolls or in your personal life—without a condom. And you’d never forgotten to ask your partner to put one on. But you’d been about to take Jake’s bare cock into your unprotected cunt without even a second thought. 

It was chilling to realize just how much Jake affected you. You froze, your body tensing and pulling away as much as you could when you were laying beneath Jake in the small cot in the backseat of his truck.

Immediately, Jake took notice of your retreat, and he paused above you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, pushing up on his arms so he could see your face fully. There was so much concern in his expression that you had to look away, reflexively shying away from the emotion in his gaze. You stared at his shoulder as you asked a question of your own.

“Do you want to use a condom?” you asked, forcing out the words in a rush, hoping Jake didn’t hear the insecurity in your voice. You knew some men thought you were ‘dirty’ because of your profession—you’d had more than enough of them say as much to your face—so you wanted to give Jake the option in case he later regretted not using protection with you. 

The part of you that liked Jake (which was growing by the minute), wanted to believe he didn’t think that way about you. After all, he’d met you in the glory holes at the back of Diesel Dolls, and had made you feel safe and respected even when there was a plywood wall between you. But you knew too well from experience that even if a man knew what you did for work, even if he’d visited you at Diesel Dolls, he might still secretly think of you in a certain way.

So you held your breath, cautious hope in your heart as you waited for Jake’s response to your question. 

He blinked once, then twice, his lips parted and his expression adorably confused while he processed your words. He even glanced down your bodies to see his bare cock resting against your pussy, and you weren’t certain what was going through his head, but you desperately wanted to know. When his gaze met yours again, he still looked concerned.

“Do you want to use a condom, kitten?” Jake asked, an anxious note in his tone. “Because I’ll find one if you do.” His eyes searched yours, but you were too stunned to respond because you’d realized something. Something life-altering.

Jake was the only man who ever asked you what you wanted. 

Maybe there had been others, long ago, before Diesel Dolls, but if there were, you couldn’t remember them. Jake was the first man in a long time to ask you what you wanted to do, if you wanted to use a condom. An overwhelming and terrifying emotion surged through your body, tying your tongue and rendering you speechless. 

Thankfully, Jake’s anxiousness at your silence prompted him to keep talking. He dropped his voice low, his expression going serious as he stared into your eyes. 

“If you want to know what I want, I thought I made myself clear earlier,” he rumbled, working his hips in tiny little circles that had his hard length slipping between your drenched folds and grinding lightly against your clit. “I don’t want anything between us—I want all of you, including your hot cunt wrapped around my bare cock.” 

A gasp fell from your lips as you tossed your head back, your eyes squeezing shut to quell the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Jakey, yes, I want it—please,” you moaned in a broken, hoarse voice. Heat rose to your cheeks and, despite how turned on you were, you managed to feel a little embarrassed by how much emotion was in your voice when you said his name. Still, you couldn’t help the need you felt, and you pulled him close, feeling like nothing would be close enough. 

Jake dug his arms into the bed beneath your back, crushing you to his chest as he shifted his hips, lining up his cock with your hole and beginning to sink in while he shushed you. “I’m right here, kitten, ‘m not going anywhere,” he murmured soothingly in your ear. 

Your heart thudded in your chest and you were filled with an uneasy trepidation even as your legs spread wider around Jake’s broad body to take his cock deep into your cunt. You believed Jake. You believed he wasn’t going anywhere, and that scared you. But you didn’t have room in your mind to deal with that fear, not when he was sliding inside you, stretching your pussy to accomodate his thick length and pushing all your worries to the wayside. 

“Feel so good, kitten,” Jake rumbled in your ear when he bottomed out inside you. His lips found your neck and kissed your delicate skin, making you whimper for him. “Feels like you were made for me, like you were made to be mine, all mine.” He rocked his hips gently, fucking you in firm, short thrusts that you felt in the depths of your soul.

Jake’s words and the way he was fucking you—like he was making love to you—was too much. You wanted so badly to be his, to let yourself fall in love with him, but you knew it couldn’t be and that knowledge made you so despondent, you felt like you could cry. But you didn’t want to ruin the moment, so instead you pushed on Jake’s shoulder, urging him to roll onto his back. 

He did as you asked, rolling your bodies until he was laying flat on his back and you were straddling his hips, his cock still lodged deep inside you. The ceiling of the truck was high enough that you could sit up, so you did, pushing on Jake’s pecs to put some distance between you and your favorite trucker. You began to ride him with practiced movements, taking the opportunity to watch Jake. 

Your favorite trucker looked deliciously devastated beneath you, his blue eyes glazing over as you rose up and sank down on his fat dick. His soft lips were parted, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as you worked your hips in tiny circles, clenching down on his length and fucking him like the pro that you were. 

Jake stared at you like you were a goddess come to life and he’d be more than happy to bow at your feet, a dazed look of pleasure in his eyes as they roamed over your body. His gaze drifted down from your face, watching your tits bounce for him, then fixating on where your bodies joined. You could feel his gaze everywhere he looked, your body lighting up at his attention, which only made you ride him harder.

“Look so beautiful riding my cock, kitten,” Jake rumbled, seemingly having found his tongue. His hands fumbled over your body, gripping your hips and then your ass like he couldn’t decide which he wanted to touch more, squeezing you anywhere he could. “And you feel so fucking good—fuck, kitten, I want to keep you on my cock forever, just sitting pretty and keeping my cock warm while I’m driving, fuck, even when I’m sleeping.”

“Mm, Jake, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you murmured huskily, planting your hands on his chest and using the leverage to bounce your ass on his cock. You knew from past experience it made men lose their minds, and Jake was no different. 

His jaw clenched and his hands pawed at your plush curves, his eyes rolling back in his head as he let out a groan that sounded like he was being tortured. “Fuck, fuck, kitten, you feel so fucking good,” Jake rambled, his tongue loosening the closer he got to coming. “Your cunt feels better than I ever could’ve imagined, ‘m gonna come so hard in your pretty little kitty.”

“Do it, Jake,” you urged, even though a part of you didn’t want your first time with Jake to be over so soon. But you knew it was better this way. You’d get him off and make some excuse to leave and you could go home and get yourself off while Jake’s come was still leaking from your pussy. “Fill me up, wanna feel you flood my little hole with your come.”

“Oh fuck,” Jake groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he held you and fucked up into you so furiously, you would’ve lost your balance if he hadn’t been holding on to you. “You’re perfect, you’re perfect, I—god, I love you, kitten.”

Every muscle in your body froze and you sucked in a sharp gasp at Jake’s confession, your mouth falling open in shock as you stared down at your favorite trucker. 

Men had said those words to you before. They’d whispered them into plywood walls while you sucked their cocks and moaned other girls’ names. They’d murmured them into your ear while you gave them a lap dance, promising you jewelry and bigger tips if you broke the rules and let them fuck you. They’d confessed them to you in a bid to keep you in relationships that were toxic. 

But you’d never heard them from a man who treated you with as much respect as Jake did. You’d never heard them from a man you wanted to hear them from. And god, you’d wanted Jake to say those words—maybe not so soon, but eventually—because you knew you were falling in love with him. And the fact that he’d said it meant he’d made it real.

And you were fucking terrified. 

Even with how close Jake was to coming, he felt the change in you immediately. For a moment, he just looked at you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his cock still hard inside you. As he watched you, you got the distinct impression he could see how scared you were of those three little words he’d said. 

Trying to conceal your fear with anger, you contorted your face into a scowl and hissed, “Don’t say that to me.” 

Jake sat up at once, one of his arms banding around your back to hold you in place while the other cupped your face, his thumb tilting your chin up so he could pin you in place with the intensity of his gaze. 

“Do you think I didn’t mean it?” he asked, his voice gentle and gruff.

With his blue eyes piercing yours, it was difficult to lie, but you managed. “I’m sure you only meant it because I was riding your dick better than any other woman you’ve ever been with,” you spit out with far more bravado than you felt. 

Jake’s expression shifted and he almost—almost—looked angry. His grip on your chin tightened, though not anywhere near enough to hurt. His hand was firm, unyielding in a way you’d never seen from Jake before. 

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time you called me Jakey and told me I have a perfect dick,” he said, his tone daring you to challenge him. “I’ve loved you since before I saw this pretty face for the first time, kitten, and I know you feel something for me, too.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, everything in your body telling you to flee, but Jake was holding you too tight so you huffed an exasperated sigh and rolled your eyes at your favorite trucker, pretending to be annoyed with him. 

“How d’you know I don’t tell everyone they have a perfect cock?” you asked in a nonchalant tone, your eyes cutting away from Jake’s as you shrugged. “Maybe I tell all my johns that so they’ll tip me better.

Jake’s expression softened, a grin spreading across his face, like he was amused by your antics. “And do you tell all your johns that you fantasize about their cocks while you touch yourself?” Jake asked, his tone almost teasing. “Do you finger yourself while you think about your other johns—or is it just me, kitten?”

Your mind flashed back to earlier that evening when Jake had visited you at the glory holes in Diesel Dolls and you’d been so turned on by him, you’d gotten yourself off while you sucked his cock. You’d never done that before, and you knew it was entirely because you were so attracted to Jake, even when you’d only known his cock. The fact that he was real and handsome and inside you made it impossible to ignore how much you desired him, your body squirming as need crashed through you.

Though you’d barely moved, Jake could feel the way you squirmed in his arms and he chuckled. “Mm, I thought so,” he rumbled, responding like you’d answered his question, which you supposed you had, in a way. He pressed his face close to yours and held you so you were forced to look at him, because he was all you could see. “You don’t need to say the words back to me, kitten,” he murmured, his tone so sweet and gentle, it inexplicably made you want to cry. “But I know you feel it.”

God help you, but Jake was right. You were falling in love with the ridiculous trucker, and it seemed there was nothing you could do about it. Tears filled your eyes and threatened to spill down your cheeks. It was so tremendously frightening to open your heart to Jake, even when you weren’t thinking about everything in your life that would endeavor to keep you apart. Your throat felt tight with emotion, like you were choking on all the feelings you didn’t want to feel. 

“Jakey,” was all you could manage to get past your lips. Thankfully, you didn’t need to say more because Jake covered your mouth with his own, kissing you so hard it stole the breath from your lungs. Your hips squirmed as heat flooded through you, the aching need of having Jake’s cock buried inside you becoming too difficult to ignore. 

Instead of letting you ride him more, Jake flipped your bodies until you were pinned beneath his larger one, swallowing your gasp as he began fucking you like he had when you’d first begun, in slow, firm thrusts. When you wrenched your lips from his, gulping down much-needed air, he didn’t let you pull too far away.

“Love it when you call me Jakey, kitten,” he rumbled, in between peppering your face with kisses, his goatee tickling your skin, “’cause I know it means you love me.” 

It felt like he was everywhere—his arms holding you tight to his chest, his lips pressing against every inch of your skin he could reach, his thick cock stretching your tight little cunt. He was overwhelming in the best way possible, and you let yourself give in to the moment, crying out, “Jakey, Jakey,” as he fucked you even after what he’d said about it meaning you loved him. 

The tip of Jake’s cock hit a spot deep inside you that had you moaning and clenching around him, and he groaned at the feel of your body squeezing his dick. He shifted his position slightly and made sure he hit that spot over and over again, until you felt like you were the one unraveling beneath your favorite trucker. 

“That’s it, good girl, take your Jakey’s cock,” he growled, his teeth nipping at your ear and your neck as he fucked you harder, feeling the way you twitched with pleasure in his arms. “Look so fucking gorgeous creaming on my cock—the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and you’re all fucking mine, isn’t that right, kitten?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, willing your lips to say yes, but all you could manage was a litany of your favorite trucker’s name, crying “Jakey, Jakey, Jakey.” You could feel the pleasure in your body coiling tight, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before Jake made you come. It felt better than you ever imagined, being with him, and you wanted it to last forever.

You could feel Jake’s smirk against your cheek and then his face was hovering above yours, his blue eyes nearly black with how wide his pupils had blown with arousal. It made him look nothing like the friendly trucker you’d met in the parking lot, but you wouldn’t trade in this unleashed side of Jake for anything. He wasn’t cute anymore, but he was so scorching hot, you thought you might come just from the way he was looking at you like you were his whole world.

“You gonna come, kitten?” he asked, his lightly teasing words at odds with the brutal way he was fucking you, his cock pounding into that delicious spot deep inside your cunt, his pelvic bone grinding against your clit every time he bottomed out inside you. “Gonna come all over the cock of the man who loves you? Gonna let the man who loves you come deep in your perfect cunt?” 

Jake’s words were your undoing. The tension in your body snapped as your release crashed over you, pleasure consuming every part of your being as you screamed your trucker’s name, “Jakey!” Your body trembled, your hands fumbling against Jake’s shoulders as you tried to cling to him, but he wasn’t done with you yet.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Jake muttered, his hips rutting into you as he chased his own release while drawing yours out. “Ya look so fucking pretty coming on my cock, kitten—the prettiest girl in the world, gonna make me come, gonna make me come so hard your tight, perfect pussy.” He captured your lips in a kiss, breaking away a moment later to grunt, “Fuck, fuck, you’re mine, kitten, all fucking mine.” 

You felt Jake’s hips stutter against yours and then he pressed deep. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was flooding your pussy with his come, that thought making you moan deliriously. You pulled Jake down for a messy, sloppy kiss as you rode out your releases together, your cunt clenching around his cock to milk every drop of his seed into your pussy. 

You writhed together for so long that Jake began to shudder from the overstimulation, and he collapsed on top of you, forcing you to stop while he moaned in your ear. Even still, you kept your legs hooked around his waist, refusing to let him go. His heavy weight was crushing you a little, but you didn’t mind as you stroked your fingertips up and down hi spine.

Eventually, both of you settled, and Jake rolled onto his side, dragging you with him. He hitched your leg over his hip to keep your bodies connected, seemingly just as reluctant as you were to pull away from where you were joined together. 

But the realities of the world burrowed back into your mind, reminding you that no matter how much Jake loved you—and no matter how much you were falling in love with him—any relationship between the two of you was an impossibility. 

If Mr. Drysdale found out you’d fucked one of the truckers that comprised Diesel Dolls’ clientele, there would be consequences. Even if you weren’t fired, you didn’t want to learn what punishment Mr. Drysdale would come up with to make sure you never saw Jake again. There’d be no way for you to have a relationship with your favorite trucker, even a secret one, since secrets had a way of coming out at Diesel Dolls.

Once you’d caught your breath and thoroughly freaked yourself out with your thoughts about the consequences of your actions, you sighed softly and began to extricate yourself from Jake. “I should go,” you murmured, but the moment you tried to pull away, Jake pulled you in tighter against his chest. There was a light dusting of hair coving his pecs and you couldn’t help but nuzzle deeper into the warmth and fuzziness of him.

Jake chuckled. “Do you really think I’m done with you already, kitten?” he asked teasingly, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve wanted to get you in my arms and on my cock for months,” he said, his dick twitching inside you as he began to harden again. “I’m not letting you go just yet.” He nudged your face up to look at him, a little bit of vulnerability swirling in his blue eyes as he whispered, “Stay the night. Please.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way Jake said ‘please’, like he would be heartbroken if you didn’t stay. At that moment, you realized just how much trouble you were in. It would break your heart to hurt Jake, but there was no way things didn’t end with one of you hurting the other. Either you’d hurt Jake by choosing your job over him or he’d hurt you by leaving. It was an impossible situation.

Jake seemed to sense your reluctance, and he kissed you softly, putting his heart into the slide of his lips against yours. “Let me take care of you, kitten,” he murmured. 

You knew he was referring to sex, but a part of you suspected he meant more than that, too. You sucked in a soft gasp, wanting to believe he really wanted to take care of you, all of you, all of the time. But it was so difficult to believe. If you gave yourself to Jake fully, he’d have to really take care of you, forever. And you didn’t know if he was willing or capable of that. 

It wasn’t like Jake was some sort of prince charming who’d whisk you off your feet and carry you off into the sunset. This was real life, and he was a trucker. One day he’d leave, and, odds were, he wouldn’t be taking you with him. It wasn’t like he was asking you to let him take care of you for the rest of your life.

But if all he was asking for was one night, you could give him that. It was only one night, after all.

“Ok,” you murmured, kissing Jake sweetly, twining your fingers in his blond hair and rocking your body against his, fucking yourself on his cock. “I’m yours for tonight, Jakey.” 

You could feel Jake’s grin against your lips, and feel his happiness in the way he squeezed you tight. His elation was heady and you almost got lost in it, imagining yourself leaving with Jake when he went back out on the road. 

You pictured Jake rescuing you from Mr. Drysdale, fighting for you when your boss from Diesel Dolls inevitably protested you leaving. You imagined fitting perfectly into Jake’s life as a trucker, and eventually becoming his sweet little wife. You imagined being his princess while he was your prince charming.

But it was all a fantasy, and you knew that. You weren’t some princess locked in a tower by a wicked witch, and Jake wasn’t your prince charming. But for one night, you could pretend. What harm could it do.

trucker king masterlist

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 13

Cassian X Archeron Sister

Summary: Cassian won't leave Y/N alone in hopes she will at least talk to him, giving her the best gifts money could buy. Perhaps material things are not the way to earn her forgiveness...

Content Warnings: Low self worth

A/N: We're kicking off the 1000 Follower Celebration with a bang!! WOO HOO. I once again can't Thank you enough for your love and support!

Also, we are getting so close to a portion of the story that I have been plotting since day one and I'm so excited. Though I highly doubt you all will be when we get there.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Also thanks @prythianpages for giving me a new banner to use 😍😍

1000 Follower Celebration Masterlist

Unwavering Presence Masterlist

Chapter 12

I awoke to knocking on my door fully aware of who was on the other side. Not moving I tucked the blanket closer to my chin, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping he would leave. When I didn’t answer, the doorknob began to jostle, “Princess, can we talk please?” Cassian’s voice carried through the wood. “I want to make this right.” He continued to knock on the door.

I closed my eyes and sent my emotions down my tattoo; my direct link to Rhys. Hoping he and Feyre were on their way back from the Summer Court.

Cassian’s knocking finally ceased, and I could breathe easier. Inhale…Exhale…

Angel Rhys’ voice rang out in my head, What’s wrong?

Tears prickled my eyes as Cassian’s cold stare from the night before came to the forefront of my mind, “You can barely take care of yourself.” His words rang in my ears.

Can you or Az get me?   I sniffled.

Why? Did something happen to Cassian? Are you in Danger? Rhys’ voice sounded panicked.

Take a look I brought the memories from the night before for him to see.

Me or Az?  Was all he asked; his voice was a lethal calm.

Az, Please.

He is on his way, Angel. I want you to know no one thinks you’re helpless. We love you.

I cracked a smile. Thanks Rhys.”

Rhys left my mind, and I closed my eyes and let sleep consumed me once more.

The sound of shouting jolted me awake. It took me a moment to distinguish the yelling. It was Azriel’s voice that carried throughout the cabin. He. Was. Angry. I slid out of bed, grabbed my robe and opened my door just enough to peek through.

“You’re not taking her!” Cassian snarled his siphons blaring. His face held a mixture of emotions I didn’t care to decipher.

Azriel’s siphons flared in response. “She asked for me. This is Rhys direct order. I’m taking her home.”  Cassian swung at the Shadow Singer only for Azriel’s shadows to flair out and push him to a chair.

I stepped out of the room as shadows pinned Cassian to the chair. “Azriel.”

Both males looked over at me Cassian had a pained look on his face and opened his mouth to speak. Az’s shadows wrapped over his mouth as Azriel glared at him. “You don’t get to speak.” Cassian lunged at Azriel, and I jumped back gasping. Cassian slammed back in the trail trying to fight Azriel’s shadows and I moved closer to the Spy Master. His hand slipped through mine and Cassian glared as his hazel eyes, cold and unyielding as he watched our hands intertwine.

Always hoping someone will save you. Cassian’s words swirled in my head and when our gazes meet, I can tell that he knows what words are filtering through my head, as his gaze shifts from cold to guilty. I tried releasing Azriel’s hand, but he gripped tighter. “She is going to gather her things and we are going to leave.” Cassian dipped his head, “Rhys expects you home in three days’ time. Meaning that he does not want to see you until then. Nod if you understand, Cassian.”  Cassian gave a nod. “Good.” Azriel led me to my room, and he shut the door, and I closed my eyes my heartbeat racing. My thoughts began to overtake my senses.

Weak

Pathetic

Worthless

You don’t belong with him. You don’t belong with anyone.

You. Don’t. Belong.

I choked on a sob leaning against the bed post. Shadows swirling up to my cheeks, kissing away my tears.

“Come on,” I opened my eyes as Azriel’s hands gripped my shoulders, “Let’s get your things.”

Azriel helped me pack my things, I slipped out to the door and headed back to Cassian. Hearing the chair shift as I headed toward the door the Shadow Singer in tow, calling out my name, though muffled by the shadows. Azriel opened the door, letting the sun in and I turned to look at Cassian. His hazel eyes lined with silver, there was pleading there. Don’t go, please, they said.

“Goodbye, Cassian.” A sob escaped and his shoulders began to shake violently as tears streamed down his cheeks. Something felt heavy against my chest, and I had to battle the urge to go to him and wipe his tears. Azriel guided me outside and shut the door behind him, muting the sounds of the General of the Night Court’s Army’s cries.

Wrapping my arms around Az’s neck he grips my waist my bag in his other hand, and he shot us up to the sky. “You, okay?” He asked.

“I just want to go home.” I said, fighting off my own tears. Az shadows consume the two of us as he winnows us to the streets of Velaris. He put me down but gripped my hand as he led us to the town home. The sidra glistening against the morning sun. I instinctively leaned my head against his arm, trying not to focus on the male we left behind.

We walked in silence for a couple beats before nudged me with his shoulder. “You know for what its worth. I know he is remorseful.”

I rolled my eyes, “How could you possibly know that?”

Az smirked, “He could have easily broken away from my shadows. Had them skittering back to me without blinking an eye.” I lifted my head to meet his eyes. His hazel eyes held no hint of humor. “He is one of the most powerful Illyrian, Archeron.”

We reached the town home, and I gripped his elbow halting him in his tracks. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he chose to stay in that chair.” Azriel’s shadows swirled around my wrist. “He didn’t want to frighten you.”

I crossed my arms, “That’s not good enough.”

Azriel lips pressed in a tight line for a moment. “I know. I would be disappointed in you, if it was enough for you.” He cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead, “Make him suffer, Archeron.”

I gave him a smile, “I’ll make him the Lord of Tears Shed.”

Azriel barked a laugh, “I’m stealing that.”

“Go for it.” I smiled as we headed into the house.

“Rhys, Feyre and Amren are almost back.” Az gracefully changed the subject.

“Were they successful?”

Az’s face turned grim, “Yes.”

“But?”

“But it came at a price.”

I sighed, “It always does. How bad?”

Azriel smiled, “Let’s just say Cassian isn’t the only one banned from the Summer Court anymore.”

Cassian’s POV

A fist collided with my cheek while I was at the training ring, Rhysand’s ring digging into my skin. Blood pooled in my mouth the metallic taste assaulting my taste buds. “You called her weak.” I lifted my head for Rhys to hit another blow on the opposite cheek. Blood spattered on the rock as it sprayed out of my mouth. “You called her worthless.”

I snarled, “I never called her that. I would never call her that!”

It was Azriel’s voice that spoke next, “That’s exactly how she felt though!  She opened up to you about her deepest insecurities, things she hadn’t even told Feyre about!  You used that insecurity and threw it back in her face.” Azriel’s flickered with anger, his shadows swirling around him clearly agitated.

“You know who also does that, Cassian?” Rhys’ voice is calm as my gaze meets him. At that moment, Rhysand was not the High Lord, or my friend. He was being a protective brother. “Nesta. She has spent most of her life with that kind of torment. I would believe that Xavier did it too.” He wound up his arm and felt the crunch of my nose. “Feyre told me that she kept to herself. That she doesn’t trust easily. She trusted you. For whatever reason, you made her feel safe.” I could hear one of my ribs cracking. “Why?”

I fell to my knees, “I was angry.” I hang my head low, blood dripping on the concrete. “Devlon got under my skin, and I was pissed.” My breathing was labored. I went straight to my room to prevent myself from lashing out, but she followed me.” The tears could fall before I could stop them. “She wanted to help.”

“And then you said she was barely able to help herself.” Rhys roared. “That she was always waiting for one of us to help her.” He knelt and gripped my face tightly. “Imagine how she feels, in a place where most fae hate her kind. Imagine how she felt when the first time she went back to the one place she should feel safe in, she was taken. She absolutely should expect us to be there for her. Because should any of our enemies get to her, she may not actually stand a chance.”

“I know.” I wheezed. “I want to make this right.”

“Go to Madja and get healed.” Rhys said, his violet eyes cold.  “I still need my general to breathe.” With that he took to the skies, likely checking in on Y/N. Leaving me alone with my best friend. His face cold, no playful glint in his eyes.

Azriel stalked over to me, his face was one I’ve seen before; one he used on his for the poor souls in his dungeons. I dipped my head, blood dripping past my lips. Az gripped my hair yanking my head back to meet his gaze. His shadows swirled as his lips turned into a snarl. “Fix. It.” He tugged my hair harshly once more. “And pray to the mother that she forgives you.” His knee collided with my chest, the underlying threat clear as I collapsed to the harsh gravel, trying to regain my breath. As Azriel left me in the training ring with my thoughts.

 I tried to take a deep breath the searing pain of my abdomen screamed in response. This was what I deserved. No pain would ever compare to seeing Y/N’s eyes look so broken at my words. I had a plan I just hoped she would hear me out.

Rhysand had other plans. “I’m not arguing with you about this.” My brother crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “You’re going.”

I clenched my fist. “How can I fix things if Y/N is here and I’m dealing with her insufferable sister.”

“She won’t even be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes. You can make your sad attempts at forgiveness when you return.”

I slammed my fist on his desk, “You’re a prick. You know that.”

“Watch it, brother. I could ban you from seeing her at all.” Rhys’ voice was even, his voice void of any emotion.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I whispered. “You know how much she means to me.”

Rhysand stood placing his palms on the desk in front of him eyes dark. “You want to wager on that?” I remained silent and his words softened, “As much as I want you to fix this. I need my General right now. I’m not saying this to hurt you, Brother, but she doesn’t need you right now.”

I pressed my lip in a tight line. “Fine.” I turned to walk away. I opened the door.

“Cass, she will come around you know?” I walked out the door leaving his question unanswered and took off to human lands. Though the hairs on the back of neck tingled, unease coiling in my belly, as I had the sense someone was staring at me. I wouldn’t turn to see Mor’s smug face.

I met Nesta’s cold stare with one of my own. She had let me in without so much as a glance only to lead me into the dining room. “Where’s Elain?”

“In her garden. I’m trying to limit her time with…your kind.” I may have towered over the eldest Archeron sister, but she had a gift of making people feel small with just the tilt of her head. On this day Nesta wore a beautiful blue gown, and her hair was braided in her usual style. Yet my mind kept drifting to her baby sister and how similar they look. The way they stand, the same scowl that scrunches up their nose.

“Has your brutish ways impacted your hearing as it has your brain?” My wings rustled as I returned my gaze to the eldest Archeron, “I asked how my sisters were.”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re fine.”

Nesta quirked a brow, “Oh yeah, Y/N giving you a hard time?”

I stilled, “What makes you say that?”

Nesta smirked, “You have the same look most people have when she’s being difficult.”

“She’s not difficult.” I tried to focus on my breathing, remembering the vile things she said to her sister the first time we met. “If anything, I’m the one who made things difficult.”

Nesta lowered her arms and stared at me, her cold gray eyes searching my face. “You love her?” I snorted and to my surprise that took Nesta off guard. “What is loving a human such an outlandish thought to you?” her lips curled upward in a snarl.

I shook my wings and my body and eased my body and mind into something calm, thinking of Y/N’s hand in mine or who beautiful smile. “No, not outlandish for me at all. No what is outlandish to me is the fact you have spent years treating her so terribly and yet here you are asking if she’s okay and if I love her, when even if you did love her, you will never tell her as much.

I approached the woman her back pressing against the wall, “Tell me Nesta, do you know what happened that night you asked her to die?”

Nesta’s eyes widened, as if she too was recalling the memory. “You almost got your wish that day. She almost died. I found her strung up like an animal, her blood was everywhere. We barely made it in time. I could see Nesta paling as I continued. “Did you know the lover she took here got off on torturing her even assaulted her?”

“How dare you-“

“Did. You. Know.” I gritted my teeth my arms caging Nesta in so she couldn’t avoid this. “Did you know that this man had been using her as a doll for months using her job as leverage to get her to stay? Only for her to come home and want love and affection from her sisters only to find disdain and despair here.”

Nesta face looked pain only for a moment before her cool mask slipped back into place. “No, I didn’t and it’s not my place to know what type of lovers my sisters make. I’m sure if he was in high standing to help us get out of poverty, she would have made do.”

I stepped away from her. “Unbelievable. You would have subjected Y/N to a death sentence if you made her stay with him. You didn’t see the cuts on her back like I did. If you had it maybe you wouldn’t be so calm and serene about it.”

Nesta stepped away from the wall smoothing her skirts walking over to the desk in the living room. She opened the drawer to quickly shut it and turned back to me with an envelope in her hand. “They wish to meet in a weeks’ time.” Nesta eyes were glassy, but the fiery rage remained. “Be here in that time. Now. Get Out.”

I snatched the letter from her hand, “You are a disgrace. You failed in every way that counts, Nesta Archeron.” I walked past her heading for the door. I called over my shoulder, “And yet Y/N is the first person to come to your defense or speak of you as someone who needs healing. You never deserved her as your sister.” And with that I left, and I swore I heard a choked sob before I took to the skies.

Reader’s POV

Cassian had been home for a week. I had managed to avoid him by training with Azriel, studying with Rhysand and using his own brothers as shields if he got too close. Both Rhys and Az were happy to oblige in keeping me close and occupied. Then the gifts began appearing at my door.

Chocolates, Jewels, Shoes, by the end of the week the stack of Journals came to my hip. They all went unanswered. The boxes began to collect dust, the chocolates went stale, and the jewels suspiciously went missing after day two. Something tells me a short black-haired female was the culprit of that. Though nothing Cassian could buy with money would not be able to sway me to forgive him. Not after he hurt me in such a deep way.

Feyre walked into my room with a box in her hands at the start of the week, we had been able to spend more time together since the fiasco at the cabin, reading in the library, sharing meals together, walking through the streets of Velaris. It felt like the times before we lost our fortune when it was me and her against the world, I hadn’t realized how much I missed just being in her presence until we started spending more time together. “This was at your door.”  She said shaking the box. She plopped on my bed dropping the box onto my lap. “Open it!”

I sighed, putting my book down, I untied the ribbon and open the lid, with a note.

Princess,

Please accept this gift as my apology to you.

I miss you.

Cassian.

Handing Feyre, the note, I began unwrapping the paper to find a gorgeous red silk gown I picked it up out of the box. Feyre smiled and nudged me, “Try it on.” Facing her I opened my mouth to protest and was met with her pushing me off the bed. “Right now.”

A few moments and I emerged from the changing partition and Feyre gasped. “Y/N… you look so beautiful.” I walked over to the mirror and turned to get a full view. The bodice of the gown, being held up by thin straps, had glittered fabric covering just enough that the swells of my breast were on display. Rich Silk overlapped meeting the sheer fabric covering my abdomen, red boning standing out against the flesh tone. The red satin draped down ruching at my hips as it cascades down a revealing slit to reveal my newly toned and muscled leg. I had to agree with Feyre.

The dress was stunning, but I recalled the note left with it and I pursed my lips.

Are you that incompetent of taking care of yourself? His voice echoed in my mind.

 “He called me worthless. Did he believe that that him buying me this was going to make me fall to my knees and forgive him.” I rolled my eyes and went back to change out of the dress. “Didn’t even hand me this gift himself, had to leave it at my door like a coward.” I mumbled sliding the rich fabric off my body and back into my purple dress with light lavender tulle sleeves. I walked over to the bed to place the dress back into the box.

“What are you going to do with the dress?” Feyre questioned not seeming to have an answer for my earlier inquiries.

“Keeping it. The dress is gorgeous and fits me like a glove. The dress will not suffer because the male who gifted it, is incompetent.” I sighed and crawled into bed placing my head on my twin’s lap where she instinctively fingers through my hair. “This isn’t enough.”

Feyre hummed and we sat in silence for a moment. “What would it take for him to earn that forgiveness?” I glance up at her and her blue eyes meet mine, “Is what happened unforgivable to you?”

I thought about it. Cassian up to this point had been nothing by kind and attentive to me. What he said was said at a moment of anger and if I was honest, I pushed when I should have let him be. However, that did not give him a right to throw my past and my insecurities back in my face the way he did. “No. It’s not. Not for him anyway.This dress or the other gifts for that matter, doesn’t tell me that this won’t happen again.  That he won’t lash out and hurt me. I have given my heart to cruel people too many times. I can’t risk that again.”

Feyre hummed once more. “Rhysand and I are going to the human lands.” I sat up at that and gave her a questioning look. “Yes Nesta, sent word to Cassian two days ago.” Oh, so that’s why the gifts had stopped at that point. “We are to go back in a few days.”

“Great I’ll-“

“Rhys thinks it would be best if you stayed home. I can’t say I disagree, with everything that has gone on,” and everything that happened the last time I was in the human lands, though she doesn’t say it. “I must agree. I would feel better knowing you were here.

I lay back on the bed and groan, “You are lucky that I am in no mood to fight. I’ll stay but I’ll grumble about it the whole time.”

Feyre kissed my cheek, “Thank you. Now let’s go get breakfast, I’m starved.” I laughed and followed her out the room, though I can’t get the image of Cassian taking off that dress off me from my mind.

Cassian’s POV

I was almost ready to give up by the time Feyre and Rhys were getting ready for the meeting with the human queens. I stormed into Rhys’s office with the last gifts I provided. “What kind of person destroys a stuffed toy?” I hold up the stuffed bat I got her, whose wings are now ripped apart.

Azriel and Rhys both pressed their lips in a tight line, but it was Azriel who lost his composure first. I threw the bat at him, and he caught it with ease. “She’s brilliant. I love her.” He looked to Rhys, “Can we keep her?”

I groaned plopping on the couch as Feyre came in. “I just don’t know what else to do. I have tried everything. I even wrote her a letter. She looked me in the eye as she threw it in the fire.” Her words still haunted my memories:

“How would you feel if the one person you trusted with your heart took your deepest insecurities and threw them in your face. The one person you felt safe and protected with just takes everything you are so afraid to burden people with and tells you, you are exactly that. A burden.” Then she walked away.

“Cassian did you hear me?” Feyre’s voice pulled me out of my daze. Recognizing that she caught me she smiled and gripped my hand with her own. “She doesn’t want material things or pretty words Cass. She wants security that what happened at the cabin will never happened again.” With her free hand she pressed her palm against my chest. “She would much rather you give your heart in exchange for hers than any material object.”

An idea blossomed into my mind, and I smiled looking at my girl’s twin. “My heart”. I pressed my palm over the back of her hand on my chest. I kissed her cheek, “Have I told you how brilliant you are today?”

Feyre smiled, “No, but I can see your gears turning in that mind of yours, do you have a plan?”

I nod and look to Azriel, “I do, but I need your help, Az.”

Azriel smiled, “Tell me what I need to do.”

So, I did.

Rhysand and Feyre had left for the human realm that night and I set off to go find Y/N. I started in the library and to my surprise she was there. I smiled looking at her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lip tucked between her teeth. Her hair was up in a cute little bun, and she wore those knee-high socks that made my cock strain in my leathers.

“I can see you, General.” She said not bothering to look up from her book. “Something you need?”

“Get dressed.” That caught her attention. Her eyes meet mine in a challenge. “I can’t keep doing this, Princess. I miss you.”

“You should have-“

“I’m well aware of what my actions have done,” I stepped deeper into the room approaching her. “I am asking you to give me a chance to show you, just how sorry I am.”

“I can’t leave-“

“I’m not arguing with you about this. I am asking for a chance. Please.”

I could see her expression turn into contemplation. Then with a sigh she closed her book, and I fought my heart from swelling as her eyes met mine, “What should I wear?” I smiled.

It felt good to have her in my arms once more as we landed in the mountains. She was shivering as we walked a few miles from the clearing I landed in. I tucked my wing around her to prevent the wind from whipping her skin raw. Her teeth chattering told me otherwise. “We’re almost there, Sweetheart.”

“Cassian, Where are we goin-“She paused mid-sentence as the Cabin came into view. A large cabin sat here the chimney already having plumes of smoke swirling out of the top. Her mouth was slightly agape that the cabin was about the size of the town home, and she looked around the area her gaze found the one thing I was hoping she would find. Walking closer to one of the larger trees that had wildflowers blooming she looked at the frame of the woman. The portrait had faded over time and not in the best condition due to weather here, but the woman shared my eyes and it was the only good quality photo I had of her. “Cass, what is this? Who is she?”

I knelt in front of the memorial and smiled my hand grazing the picture, “This is my home, Princess.” I looked to Y/N and gave another smile, “This is a portrait of my mother.”

To Be Continued...

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[chronicowboy]

Omfgg do you think about how Buck and Eddie could get together and they're happy and giddy and they think they're gonna tell Chris first but then he just shuts down. Chris shuts down and says absolutely not and neither of them know what it's about because he won't SAY anything but Buck cannot handle hurting this kid so he tells Eddie they'll be fine but he should leave. And things are angst for a few days but then one day someone knocks on Buck's door and it's Chris. He hasn't told Eddie he was there, just like once before. Buck isn't going to push him so they just sit and it's quiet before Chris asks Buck if he loves him. Him not Eddie. Of course Buck loves Chris, he's not sure where this is coming from but then Chris says that his mom loved him too. Shannon loved him too but she loved Eddie first and when Eddie left, Chris wasn't enough to make her stay. When Ana and Eddie broke up, she didn't stay in touch with Chris. Because they all loved Eddie first. And Buck just has to sit there trying not to cry but then calls Eddie and tells him to come but also bring the Will. When Eddie is there, they tell Chris about the Will. They tell him about Buck being Chris' legal guardian no matter the circumstance. And Buck tells him that he loved Chris first, that he understood Eddie through Chris. That Chris had a right to Buck with or without Eddie dating Buck and Buck had legally bound himself to being there for him. And that Eddie did this because Buck has always loved Chris first. Things get resolved and Chris finally has concrete proof of what he will always have. His dad yes but also his Buck.

honestly anon i think about this all the time because it's like the most likely first conflict for them to introduce as buddie. the do we keep it a secret do we tell people stuff is interesting but honestly it's this that will probably be their first hurdle as a couple. because to use a tim minear buzz word it's the most authentic truthful story they could tell. like christopher's abandonment issues have been a huge part of his character right from season 2 and have only gotten worse as he's grown up but buck has been a fixture in his life this whole time and suddenly EVERYTHING is changing. it's going to be terrifying. and of course buck and eddie will gracefully bow out for the sake of their son - although i think not without having some very honest conversations first but gut reactions etc etc.

as for your scene specs well this is just CRUEL. anon hate is getting so intricate these days (/j). chris running to buck a la breaking point and asking if he loves him because everyone loved eddie first. why would you phrase it like that jesus? but yeah fuck. and buck reassuring him so completely that he may have met eddie first but he fell in love with chris long before he realised he was in love with eddie. reassuring him that yes they're a family unit the three of them, but the two of them will always exist as something unique themselves no matter what. fuck. fuck fuck fuck.