#the one time that i’m out for the whole day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gimmeurtmi · 2 days

Text

breathe — 2min

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho

tags: established relationship, polyamory, bdsm, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, throuple, mxm, degradation, pet play, breath play, collars and leashes, anal!!, butt plugs, oral (m receiving), nipple play (f), choking, seungmin and his canonically established pain kink, thigh humping, unprotected sex, sub/dom dynamics, sub!reader, mean dom!seung, soft dom!minho, implied subspace, use of “slut”, “bunny”, “bubs”, “pet”, “dumb”, slight humiliation kink, choking on cum, use of a non-verbal stop light system, reader goes yellow but it’s all good, absolutely sappy in the end, smut with so many feelings, lmk if i missed something!

inspo: 2min in the new teaser pics

notes: again, i got carried away. it appears the dirtier i try to make something the sappier it turns out. i think i started this two days ago and my mood drastically changed from horny as fuck to in love as fuck. please let me know how this turned out 🥹

{ wc: 5610 }

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Minho asks, softly, as he turns the collar around in his hands.

It’s pink, a little bell hanging off the metal heart in the middle, three different slots available to tighten for size.

Seungmin bought it last week, after five whole days of discussions.

You asked your boyfriends for a collar, and Seungmin instantly agreed. Although it took a little more time to persuade Minho. He wanted it, you could tell by the crimson shade of his ears as soon as you initially brought the idea up—but Minho was the kind of boyfriend that never wanted to hurt you. Even though he knew you enjoyed it, he always wanted to protect you. Seungmin understood both of you equally, which was what helped the three of you work as flawlessly as you did. Seungmin shared Minho’s concerns, heard them and nodded his head silently, while also teasing you for how excited the idea made you.

In the end, Seungmin showed you three collars and when your eyes lingered a few seconds longer on the pink one he added it to his cart that night.

Yesterday the package arrived.

“Minho, I’m sure,” you promise him, “it’s gonna be so fucking hot.”

Minho smirked at you, shy and excited, his eyes locked on yours.

“You know Kim Seungmin loves you on your knees,” he says lowly, “I do, too.”

“You do?” You smile.

“Mhm hmm,” Minho nods sharply, “look so pretty with your beautiful eyes looking up at us.”

“Min, please,” you say, so soon, “put it on me?”

“Go get dressed,” Minho orders, “Seungminnie is gonna get here in ten minutes and then we can do everything you asked for.”

You smile big, excitedly clapping your hands together. Minho chuckles at you, eyes sparkling before he plants a small kiss on your lips.

“Go on,” he says, enamoured, before sitting back on the bed—collar still clutched tightly in his hand.

You quickly go to the bathroom, where your outfit is waiting on the counter. You get dressed, your new matching pink lace set fitting your body perfectly. The thong is a little tight, but you don’t think it’s gonna stay on for too long—so you don’t mind it much.

You take a look in the mirror, silently thanking Seungmin for his taste in lingerie; it makes you feel so incredibly sexy. You can’t wait to feel their eyes on you as they see the way the pink fabric compliments your curves.

With excitement, butterflies dancing all around your insides, you take a deep breath before walking back into the bedroom.

Minho’s spread on the bed, hand tucked behind his head as he scrolls on his phone. You can tell he’s looking forward to tonight, his sweats doing a poor job at concealing his already present bulge.

When he hears the bathroom door close shut, he looks up. His mouth falls open, front teeth peeking out as he looks you up and down three times. Then, “holy shit.”

“You like it?”

Minho swallows, eyes growing wide as he nods repeatedly.

“God, bunny,” he says, slightly breathless, “look at you.”

“I think I like it better when you look at me,” you chuckle.

“I’m looking,” he says, licking his lips, “god. Fuck.”

He sits up, his phone long forgotten and with a small flick of his fingers calls you over. You waste no time at all, quickly climbing on the bed to sit by his side.

“So pretty like this,” he runs his hands over your hair, softly brushing it with his fingers. “Pretty bunny.”

His hand leaves your hair after a few moments, running down your bare back before he softly cups your ass.

“So soft,” he hums, tucking his finger under the fabric of your g-string. He runs his finger up and down, tugging it tighter around you.

With his other hand, Minho runs his fingers over your stomach, higher and higher until he cups your tits in his hand. He’s gentle, rubbing his thumb over the soft lace and when your breath hitches he starts circling your nipple through your pink bra.

“Wanna touch you all over,” he mumbles, “but I don’t think it’ll be right to take these off yet. Look how perfect your tits are in this.”

You blush at his words but Minho is too distracted by your chest to comment on it. He pushes the cup down, only enough for your nipple to peak out, and then he rubs his thumb over it in quick motions.

You moan softly, mouth gaped and body already reeling from the touch. Something about Minho not even undressing you before he starts playing with your body ignites a fire in your stomach.

He leans forward, looking up at you as his lips wrap around your nipple, sparkling eyes locking on yours as he flicks his tongue repeatedly around your sensitive bud.

“Min, that feels really nice,” you sigh, carding your fingers through his soft hair. He smiles up at you, tongue flicking through his open lips before he closes his eyes—eagerly sucking around your nipple.

With a soft pop he moves away, rubbing his hand against your waist before giving the same attention to your other breast, eager to keep hearing your soft moans.

His hands join together behind your back, rubbing up and down freely before he cups your ass. He hums, content, the vibrations against your skin sending butterflies into your core.

He pulls away again, satisfied for the time being, looking up at you.

“I had an idea,” he says, lowly, “there was something else in the box I didn’t show you.”

“What was it?”

Minho reaches underneath the pillow, pulling out a long and white fluffy tail. You feel your face burning up.

“Why didn’t Seungmin say anything?” You ask, excitement buzzing through you at the idea of wearing a tail with the collar.

“This one was my idea,” Minho admits, a shy smile on his face.

“You can put it on me,” you say with a grin.

Then, Minho turns it around, showing you the small butt plug attached to the end of the tail.

You let out a small gasp, your lips forming a perfect circle at the realisation Minho actually bought you a toy like this. Your cheeks are so warm.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” you admit, taking the tail into your hands and inspecting it closer. The plug itself isn’t too big, but since the three of you don’t experiment with anal that often you know you’d feel a stretch either way. You feel your walls clench for a moment at the thought of wearing it.

“I didn’t expect it either,” Minho admits, cupping your ass and rubbing circles on it with his palms. “When Seungminnie showed me the website it popped up and I added it. I don’t know, bunny, the thought of you on your knees with a little tail between your legs made me so hard.”

“I want you to put it in, Minho,” you say, and your voice sounds foreign in your ears, “please.”

Minho nods.

He slips one of his hands beneath the pink fabric of your thong, his other hand gripping your ass hard. He brings his middle finger to your hole, circling it softly.

You grip his shoulders, breathing laboured as you lock your eyes on his.

“I need to get the lube,” Minho says, pressing the pad of his finger flat against your hole. You know he can slip it right in if he wanted to—but you can’t deny he’s right. His fingers are too dry and the slide won’t be easy at all, so Minho prefers to simply tease the entrance with his finger. It makes you moan either way, the novelty of it all and the sensitive nerves sending pleasure through your body with something as simple as this.

“I’ll go get it?” You offer through a small sigh.

“Delivery is on its way,” Minho says, leaning forward towards your chest and kissing around it.

You’re not sure what he means but you ignore it when he slowly starts pushing the tip of his finger in and out of your hole—in and out, in and out. You don’t think he inserts more than a centimetre inside you, but it still feels so so snug. So weird. So fucking good.

You hear the front door open and close before Seungmin’s voice follows with a small, “I’m home!” and the butterflies in your stomach start soaring.

Minho chuckles lightly, feeling the way your body reacts to Seungmin’s voice. “Excited to see our puppy?”

You nod happily, a broken gasp leaving your lips when Minho slips his finger in deeper. “He’ll be so happy to see you like this.”

The door to the bedroom practically flies open, and Seungmin doesn’t even say hello. He leans over you, a bottle of lube in his hands, and without any prior warning—he spills it directly on your ass.

It’s cold so you hiss loudly, but Seungmin only shushes you in return.

More and more of it trickles down your body, all over Minho’s finger and down to your cunt. All you can do is moan as Minho easily slips his finger all the way in, knuckle deep.

“There you go,” Minho coos, “take it, baby.”

“Feels so nice, Min,” you let your head fall forward, focusing on the pleasure the stretch provides you.

“Let me look at her, hyung,” Seungmin says, his voice covered in an edge you can’t quite place.

You let your eyes flutter open, moans tumbling freely out of your mouth as you look at Seungmin. He was at an important meeting, you aren’t too sure for what, but he was still wearing his smart clothes. They were so different from his every day sweats, and although you loved him in anything he wore, there was something particularly beautiful about Seungmin wearing tight fitting dress pants and a fashionable cardigan.

You wanted him to rip his clothes off.

“I knew you’d like the tail hyung got us,” Seungmin smirks, his eyes drinking in your outfit before settling on your lips, “knew you wanted it in every hole.”

“Seung,” you let out, ears growing warm at his accusation.

“I’m wrong?” You don’t answer, “our dirty little pet doesn’t like how hyung is fucking her ass right now?”

You moan as Minho makes a point of adding a second finger at that exact moment.

“Stretching you so well,” Seungmin mumbles, looking behind your back at Minho’s actions, “your holes were made for this.”

You reach out for Seungmin’s hand, pulling him closer to you, and he laces your fingers together as he sits down beside you.

“You bought the cutest set, Seungminnie,” Minho says, as he watches Seungmin’s fingers run over the lace.

“You chose the cutest tail,” he returns.

“I-I’m ready,” you sigh, “I want it in me.”

“She’s said that so many times already,” Minho reports, “she really wants it.”

“You want your collar, too?” Seungmin asks, sweetly.

“Yes, please,” you try your hardest not to sound too desperate, but the way they both laugh at you makes you think you failed.

Seungmin plants a soft kiss on your cheek before he looks around for the collar, and when he finds it somewhere on the bed he shakes it around. The little bell rattles around with a small repetitive dingdingding. Seungmin smirks.

“Oh, this is gonna be so fucking hot,” he chuckles, eyes lighting up.

Minho slips his fingers out slowly, kissing your shoulder as he tells you he thinks you’re ready now. You nod. You have no idea if he stretched you wide enough, but you don’t care. You just want them to start already.

You watch as Minho grabs the tail from the fluffy side, dowsing the plug side with lube before he looks up at you. The cautious look is back in his eyes, and he hesitates, but once he sees your blown pupils and quick breaths he leans forward.

He circles the plug around your hole a few times, letting you get used to the coolness of the lube (unlike Seungmin) before slowly pushing it inside you. He pulls it out, then back in—in out, in out, before it slips all the way inside you with a loud moan.

“Oh, my god,” you sigh, “feels so tight.”

Seungmin runs a hand up and down your thighs. Minho starts playing with the fluffy ends of the tail. You can hear him giggling.

“It’s okay, bunny?” Minho asks when you fall silent.

You nod, clenching your fists tightly to stop yourself from touching your clit and derailing the whole evening. Your senses are on fire, the tightness of the plug causing your walls to flutter repeatedly. You try to focus on your boyfriends, who are looking at you curiously.

“I have so many things I wanna do to you, bubs,” Seungmin says, “you’re good to let me ruin you?”

“Please, Seungmin,” you groan, “ruin me as much as you want.”

He chuckles. “Let’s get you dressed, yeah?”

He opens up the collar, watching you slowly as he secures it in place. He locks it on the first loop, the loosest option, and kisses you softly.

Minho runs his hands through your hair, delicately pulling it up into a ponytail as he pushes it away from your face. You aren’t sure when he got the hair tie, but he’s delicate with it, even pulling out a few strands from the side like how you always do.

“Thank you,” you say, surprised.

“So it doesn’t get in the way,” he explains. Your heart skips a beat, understanding they must’ve discussed what they wanted to do tonight beforehand, leaving it as a surprise for you.

Seungmin leans over your shoulder, kissing Minho’s lips messily, before the older pushes him off.

“Youngest first,” Minho says, pointing at the box at the edge of the room where the rest of the toys came from.

Seungmin gets up from the bed, grabbing a matching pink leash out of the box.

He secures the leash onto the collar, giving the handle to Minho before he steps back.

He opens the button on his pants.

You watch as he lets them fall onto the floor, pooling around his feet, along with his boxers.

His cock stands against his stomach at full hardness already, and you swallow tightly.

“Kim Seungmin,” Minho grumbles impatiently, “shirt off. We wanna see all of you.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes but acquiesces, chucking his shirt to the side.

“He’s so pretty,” you voice out loud.

“I know,” Minho agrees, reaching his fingers towards Seungmin's stomach. He runs them up and down the soft skin, and you watch fascinated as small goosebumps rise on the skin of his thighs.

“Minho,” you let out breathless, “I wanna bite him.”

Minho laughs, almost evilly. “I think you should.”

“Yeah?” You blink at Minho.

He nods. “You know how much our boy likes that kinda thing. Do what you want, bunny. I’ll pull you back if I want to, right?”

Your eyes move towards Minho’s hand, thick veins accenting his knuckles as the bright pink leash sits securely in his hands. You clench your thighs together.

Minho grabs one of the pillows and drops it to the floor, right at Seungmin’s feet.

“Down, pet,” Seungmin commands. You have to hold back a moan.

You slowly move onto the floor, knees comfortably sitting on top of the pillow Minho provided. Each small movement nudges the plug inside you—you feel so dizzy with want, with excitement, you aren’t sure you’re even in your own body.

But knowing Minho is holding onto you, connected to him by pink leather, puts you at ease. Minho would never let anything happen to you, and Seungmin would kiss you better if it ever did.

You get into position, holding onto Seungmin’s soft thighs.

“Open,” Seungmin orders, running his thumb across your chin. You open your mouth, instinctively sticking your tongue all the way out as you get comfortable on your knees.

Seungmin laughs at you, shaking his head softly.

“You were waiting to do that, huh?” He says, lowly.

You nod your head, and the bell around your neck starts clicking.

“Such a pathetic girl,” Seungmin whispers, “letting hyung stick a fucking tail in your ass? And you liked it?”

“I liked it so much, Seung,” you whine, “it feels so nice.”

“You didn’t even thank hyung,” Seungmin points out.

You feel a small tug at your collar, so you turn around towards Minho. He’s lying back, hand tucked beneath his head again, his black t-shirt showing off his arms beautifully.

“Thank you, Minho,” you say.

“For what?” Seungmin pushes.

“Thank you for fucking my ass with the tail,” you choke out, heat running up and down your entire body.

Minho doesn’t say anything, but you see his knuckles tighten around the leash.

Your chin is tugged harshly as Seungmin turns your head back towards him, smiling wickedly at you.

“Good pet,” he says, “now I’m gonna fuck a different hole of yours. And you’re not going to stop until hyung pulls you off, yeah?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “please.”

You feel Minho’s hand rub up and down your shoulder, as he plants a small kiss on your temple.

He grabs your hand, holding one of your fingers up.

“One finger means green,” he explains, kissing your knuckle. Then he holds up your second finger, “two means yellow,” then he unravels your whole hand so all your fingers are pointing upwards. He kisses your open palm before saying, “five fingers means red. Can you do that for us, bunny?”

“I can’t speak?” You ask after Minho gives you a small kiss.

“You’re allowed to,” Minho says, “but he’s gonna fuck your throat so you probably won’t be able to.”

You clench around the air, shifting on top of your knees.

You nod, fingers tingling at the idea before you look up at Seungmin.

His cock is bright red already, the head glistening slightly. You want to taste him.

You squeeze his thighs, making a point of using your nails, and he lets out a soft groan.

“Our pet has sharp claws, huh?” Minho chuckles.

You lean forward, planting a few kisses around his hip bone before you scrap your teeth against the skin.

Seungmin lets out a high pitch sigh.

“She bites, too,” Minho hums.

“Want more,” Seungmin groans as you bite him again, sucking on the skin before you lick over the small indents from your teeth.

Minho sinks his fingers into your roots, scraping against the nape of your neck with his blunt nails. You barely notice it when he guides your head further down Seungmin’s body.

Minho pushes your face against Seungmin’s pelvis, your nose brushing against the thick stubble. You kiss anywhere your lips can reach—but you can’t ignore the heat coming from his cock any longer.

Slowly, you lick the tip once and then twice and then Seungmin hisses, “take it all, pet. Come on.”

You do as you’re told, letting your jaw drop slack as you slip as much of it inside your mouth as you can.

The height isn’t exactly perfect for your current task, so you try to make up for it, lifting up on your knees to make up for Seungmin’s long legs.

Minho notices, and when he does, he tugs on the leash just enough so that you start struggling against his grip. He’s trying to push you back down to the floor.

The lower you are, the harder it is to fit all of Seungmin’s length inside your mouth but the more you try to lift up—the harder Minho tugs on your leash.

Your thighs are starting to shake.

As a distraction you focus on fluttering your tongue against Seungmin, sucking harder around his warm cock as the salty taste takes over your thoughts.

You want him closer, you want more, and when you drag your body towards him your pussy rubs just right against the pillow you’re sitting on.

You moan around him, and Seungmin throws his head back from the vibrations. Minho tugs on your leash in warning.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says.

Obviously, you do it again.

“Up,” he orders, “on your knees, up.”

You lift yourself up, struggling to sit up on your knees, but thankfully it’s much easier to control what you’re doing that way.

When you start finding your pace, head bobbing up and down freely, Minho tugs on the leash so quickly you lose your breath for a moment or two.

Once the collar isn’t digging into your throat as much you try to breathe in, but Seungmin holds your head in place.

“Such a warm hole for me,” he mumbles, “you don’t need to breathe, right?”

You look up at him, blinking away tears as you breathe in quickly through your nose.

He tugs at your ponytail until his dick falls out of your mouth. You gasp in as much air as you can.

“What do you like more, slut, breathing or my cock?”

“Your cock,” you say, embarrassingly fast, “it’s better than anything else.”

“God, you’ve gone entirely dumb,” Seungmin mocks, eyes narrowed at you.

You nod, the bell rings along with your movements. “Keep going, Seungmin. You said you’d ruin me, please fucking ruin me.”

“Hyung,” he whines, “I’m gonna cum all over her fucking face like this.”

At that Minho grabs you from behind, small hands covering your head as he guides you back onto Seungmin’s cock. You quickly swallow him in, getting used to the weight of him in your mouth again.

You grab onto his thighs for support, making sure to dig your nails into the skin again. As you let go of any control you have, you allow Minho to push your head up and down, up and down, while Seungmin gets louder and louder.

You bring your hands onto his stomach, scratching five long lines on each side from his hips to his thighs.

Seungmin keens.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he starts chanting, “do it-do that, do that again.”

Minho runs his hand down Seungmin’s back, scratching harshly as Seungmin lets out his loudest moan yet.

“Make her choke on my cum, make her choke on it, fuck fuck fuck—“

Minho shoves your head down until your nose is flush against Seungmin’s pelvis. You look for air anywhere you can but there isn’t much. The tip is so deep inside your throat you’re sure it can be seen clearly through your neck, but neither of them can see anything when you’re pressed flush against Seungmin.

A moment or two of nothing but Seungmin’s moans and you gagging, and then the salty taste gets stronger and his cum fills your throat in a sudden gush and Minho pulls you off in a matter of seconds.

You don’t even open your eyes, too overwhelmed by the speed of it all, focusing all your efforts on making up for the lack in your lungs without actually choking on your boyfriend’s cum.

Once you recover enough you remember to swallow what’s left in your mouth, the rest spilled all over you and the pillow and your brand new pink lace.

You feel a hand on your chin, cleaning you up, and when you open your eyes Minho’s looking you up and down seriously.

“How are we doing?”

“Green,” you practically moan, “keep going, I’m not done.”

“Calm down,” Seungmin chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you sucked my soul out.”

You grin at that, pride filling your chest at the state he’s in.

His chest is covered in a sheer layer of sweat, bangs sticking to his forehead even though he styled them away from his face today—and his cheeks are bright pink. There’s scratches all down his thighs; you imagine his back doesn’t look any better. He can barely keep his eyes open, still breathing in and out with effort.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, Seung,” you groan, “please, I can go again.”

“I can’t,” he falls on his back, covering his face with his arm as his chest raises up and down rapidly. “Leave me alone.”

You look up at Minho, eyebrows lifting in a silent plea.

“Go on,” he says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile, “hump his thighs.”

Seungmin groans, as if protesting, but he spreads himself on the bed until he looks comfortable. Then, he lifts his arm away from his eyes.

He licks his lips and you notice his breathing has settled down slightly. He doesn’t move, barely reacts as you climb onto his thigh and drag your cunt over the soft skin.

You groan as the damp fabric rubs against your folds.

There’s a constant ding ding ding from the bell, the sound spurring you on to go faster and faster.

“You did so well,” Minho praises, “and you’re so eager to do more. You have to cum for us first as a reward for all your hard work.”

You nod, “yeah, thank you. Thank you, Minho.”

“Like when you train a puppy to do tricks,” Seungmin explains, “we’re gonna let you cum as your treat.”

You whine at his words, dragging your hips back and forth at an aching pace.

“Show off your tail, baby,” Minho mumbles, “looks so fucking hot when it bounces around like that.”

You can’t imagine there’s any kind of grace in your movements, far too concerned with chasing the pleasure to think of how it looks—but Minho’s eyes are frozen on your ass, completely enchanted by the fluffy white tail.

It’s only when he slaps your ass, the surprise causing you to fall forward on Seungmin’s chest, that you feel yourself on the edge of cumming. The drag of your cunt against Seungmin’s thigh and the newfound angle nudging the plug inside you just right causes your moans to get more intense, louder, more desperate.

Seungmin grabs your tits with both hands, “bubs, cum.”

He says it like a command, like all the other commands he gave you so far tonight, and your body has already learned to react to anything he says.

You instantly start shaking in his hold, tingles running all the way from your toes to the tips of your fingers as your orgasm crashes through you. You clench tightly, the plug making it all the more sweeter as you ride it out for as long as you can.

You collapse on top of Seungmin, a content hum echoing against your chest when he pulls you into a hug.

You watch as Minho lays down next to Seungmin, brushing any stray hairs that fell out of your ponytail from all your efforts. You aren’t sure when he stripped down but he’s completely naked now, and you let yourself indulge in the beautiful sight of his bare body. From his sculptured chest to his thick thighs to his gorgeous cock sitting angry and needy against his stomach.

Seungmin kisses the top of your head, then lazily kisses Minho’s cheek.

“How are you, baby?” He asks.

“So hard I could cry,” Minho chuckles.

Seungmin’s hand wraps around the base of Minho’s cock, squeezing tightly.

Minho groans loudly, the sound so different from how composed he’s been so far. You can see his desperation when he shuts his eyes tightly, mouth hanging open.

“Bunny,” he groans, “how are you?”

All you can do is lift up two fingers.

“Need more rest?” You nod.

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Seungmin says, giving Minho’s cock one full stroke, “I’ll take care of it while our baby rests.”

Seungmin holds you in one arm and uses the other to keep pumping Minho’s cock. Minho moans freely, letting himself enjoy the attention finally being on him.

You know he prefers giving when it’s the three of you, and especially when you decide to try one of your own kinks, but he still loves when the attention is on him—and who wouldn’t love one of Seungmin’s big hands all over them?

No more than thirty seconds pass before you decide you’ve rested enough.

“Let me sit on it,” you mumble out, “want his cock in me.”

“She still sounds so desperate,” Seungmin hums, “we can all barely move but she’s still hungry for cock.”

Minho smiles lazily, grabbing at the leash and pulling you towards him.

You aren’t very graceful when you climb over to his side but you have to do it quickly, the collar already pressing down on your windpipe.

Minho helps you settle on his thighs. You notice just how much bigger they are than Seungmin’s when the stretch in your thigh deepens from the prolonged positioned you’re in.

He pushes your ruined underwear to the side while guiding his cock towards your entrance. He nudges the tip against your clit, spreading all your wetness on his cock before he easily slips it inside you.

It feels tighter than usual, the plug sitting snug right by his cock, and you can cum from the thought alone.

“You two look so good together,” Seungmin mumbles, cupping his balls. With his other hand, he brushes Minho’s hair out of his eyes. “I’m so in love with you two.”

Minho thrusts up, hard, surprising a squeal out of you.

“Oh my god,” Minho groans, “tell him if he says that again I’ll cum.”

“Seungie,” you start, and Minho instantly picks up his pace, practically drilling into you from below, “S-Seungie, tell Minho how, fuck, how much you love him.”

“Shut up,” Minho warns, snapping the leash. You clench as your breath hitches, but that doesn’t stop you.

You wrap your hands around Seungmin’s cock, at full hardness again already, and start lazily stroking him.

He bites his plump lip, blinking slowly at the pair of you.

“Fuck, I love you two so much,” he groans. You pump him faster.

Your coordination is awful, and Minho’s thrusts keep jolting you around, and all three of you can barely move but neither one of you will stop.

It should be awkward. You think it’s nothing less than perfect.

“Hyungie is the best boyfriend I could’ve asked for, and you’re the best girlfriend. It’s like I have the entire world here with me when we’re together. I’m so lucky you two are mine,”

You feel Minho’s dick twitching inside you.

“Say it again,” you whine, “fuck, Seung, I love you.”

He sits up enough to kiss you firmly on the lips, and it’s one too many things to focus on so you don’t think you do a good job of it at all.

You try to put all your energy on Seungmin’s cock, knowing Minho is controlling his own pace well enough, but Seungmin already came tonight and your hand isn’t fast enough.

Still, “Seungmin, I love you so much,” Minho moans. “Fuck, I love you both with my entire heart.”

“Minho,” you whine, not used to him saying things like that so desperately.

“Hyungie,” Seungmin says as he pulls him in for a kiss, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The three of you start breathing desperately, all broken moans and messy kisses.

“I need you two like I need air,” Seungmin says.

“I couldn’t breathe without either one of you,” Minho agrees.

“Fuck,” you gasp out as Seungmin pushes the tail deeper inside you, “I need you two, I need you two more than anything.”

“I’m gonna cum,” Minho warms.

“Min, I love you,” you kiss him, “cum for us, Min, wanna feel you so close inside me.”

“M-me too,” Seungmin groans, “gonna cum, too.”

You can’t be the only one left out, and so you quickly start rubbing your clit in figure-eights with your free hand. It’s a mess of movements and an unsynchronized chorus of moans—but soon the three of you are all hit with it at the same time.

Minho gets there first, and it’s a domino reaction when Seungmin notices his boyfriend cumming inside his girlfriend, and your body reacts to the pair of them slowly after.

Minho carefully guides you off his thighs, ignoring the mess between your legs and the way it’s slipping out of your cunt and all over the bed.

He unlocks the leash, opens the collar and throws it off to the side somewhere. He only needs one hand to do so, and you can’t suppress the moan that leaves you from the sight of it. Luckily, they don’t think much of it as the three of you are all still sensitive.

Minho slowly, and with a few reassuring words, slips the plug out as well.

The pair of them rub over your neck and your sore thighs and your exhausted wrist. Minho takes a bit of water and washes over your neck to make sure your skin doesn’t get too irritated and then he makes sure to give you what little is left in the water bottle to drink. Everything still tastes of Seungmin, though.

After a few minutes Minho settles down against your chest, reaching a hand to hold onto Seungmin’s hips.

You’re sandwiched so closely together you might actually stop breathing soon—somehow it’s still not close enough.

“Kim Seungmin,” Minho mumbles, eyes closed, “since when do you get sappy during sex?”

“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbles sleepily back, “I was overwhelmed. I truly meant it all.”

“Of course you did,” Minho says, as if stating a fact. “There’s a lot of things I’m unsure of, but what the three of us have together isn’t one of them.”

“If you guys don’t shut up I’ll start crying,” you threaten.

Minho kisses your cheek. Seungmin kisses your shoulder.

“You mean the world to me, bubs,” Seungmin mumbles.

“I will cry,” you groan.

“Fine, I hate you. Happy?” Seungmin chuckles.

You giggle at him, “I hate you, too.”

“Why are you two so annoying?” Minho smiles, big and content. You kiss his cheek softly.

It’s sweaty in your three way hug, and you’re still sticky all over, and your throat is on fire from thirst. But still, you don’t move yet, entirely content with being wrapped all around the two of them, unsure of where you end and they begin. It’s fitting like that, you think to yourself, being so close together your breath easily turns into theirs.

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luveline · 2 days

Note

BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣

—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k

You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason.

You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now?

Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk.

Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’.

So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things.

“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place.

“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend.

He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?”

Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look unhappy.”

It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?”

“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.”

Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.”

Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings? And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with.

Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails.

“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk.

“No.”

“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.”

You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider.

“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks.

“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.

“You like him, he likes you.”

That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.

“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.

“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?”

“I could. His wife might not like the idea.”

You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library.

“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?”

You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot.

“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks.

Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says.

He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers.

“You know you can tell me anything,” he says.

“Sure.”

“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.”

You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.”

“Who says I need that?”

“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.”

You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly.

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.”

Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.”

“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.

It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through.

“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs.

If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.”

He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb.

“I don’t.”

“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks.

You touch his waist. “Not me.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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tayytayy12 · 1 day

Text

I hate it here (a lot less when I’m with you) | OP81 x Reader

Summary - Reader just got out of a mildly toxic relationship and released a song about what her coping mechanism was during that time, but when her new relationship gets leaked by the paparazzi, she decides to show off her new favourite person.

Warnings | Mentions of a past toxic relationship/ breakup, swearing

FaceClaim | Gracie Abrams

Requested | Yes - No

Type | SMAU

Yourusername

Liked by | AaronDessner, PheobeBridgers and 2,987,425 others

Tagged | @/AaronDessner

Yourusername | Long Pond Studios has always been a place where I’ve let my emotions and feelings guide my songwriting completely, every song that I’ve written and recorded in this place has been a complete raw reflection of my feelings, and I’m forever grateful that I can trust you enough to share them all with you without the slightest moment of hesitation. That’s why, I’m surprise releasing my brand new song, ‘I hate it here’ now. This song is about a method I’ve used to cope for the past few years of my life when I wasn’t in the best situation, and I hope that it will help any of you who are or were in the same situation I was. This song was made with my soulmate of a collaborator, chosen friend, found family of mine, Aaron and were so incredibly proud of it and we can’t wait for you to hear it. Sorry for being away for so long, I love you 🤍

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User1 - OMFG SHES ALIVE !!!

User2 - ONLY TOOK FIVE MONTHS TO CONFIRM YOU’RE ALIVE AND BREATHING

AaronDessner - My favourite one together so far 🤍

Yourusername - Love you forever 🤍

User3 - WTFDYM ‘I HATE IT HERE’ EXPLAIN?

User4 - GO LISTEN TO IT ITS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD

User5 - A SURPRISE DROP? WE’RE SPOILED

User6 - When Aarons a co-writer AND the producer, you know for a fact the song will change your life (and make the therapy bill triple)

Liked by author

User7 - Girl don’t apologise

User8 - FR like she gets cheated on, takes a brake and then apologises to us 😭 like girl it’s okay

JackAntanoff - *Alexa play Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo*

Yourusername- Your times coming synth man 🤫 LOVE YOU STILL

User9 - WDYM HIS TIME IS COMING YOU CRYPTIC WOMAN

User10 - “I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind.” That’s all I have to say.

User11 - Y/n could write Romeo and Juliet but Shakespeare couldn’t write I hate it here

User11 - “I place you need a key to get to, the only one is mine” girly I hope someone makes you want to make a copy one day

Yourusername - God I love you lmao

User11 - OMFG Y/n loves me I can die happy

User12 - “tell me something awful, like you are a poet.” BC HE ALWAYS PAINTED HER BLUE SKYS THE DARKEST GREY, RUINING HER DAY BY TELLING HER AWFUL SHIT LIKE HES A TORTURED POET !!!!!! (I knew Coney Island wasn’t fictional you fucking delusional people, no one in a happy relationship writes that shit 💕💕💕)

User13 - “This man made me feel worthless.” Y/EX/N ISTG WHEN I FIND YOU. COUNT UR MINUTES

User14 - “I'm lonely but I'm good, I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine” bitch where did you find my diary

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Yourusername

Liked by, SabrinaCarpenter, OscarPiastri and 2,191,910 others

Tagged | @/SabrinaCarpenter

Yourusername - I’m sorry who’s this woman debuting at no.1 on the billboard hot one hundred? My god it is me, I can’t believe this, I love you I love you I love you thank you so so much from the bottom of my heart, I mean it, I really do. MY GOD I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. (And my baby with her first top ten entry, I love you Sabby, Go stream espresso, it is that sweet 🤍💕) OKAY ONE LAST THANK YOU. 💕🤍💕🤍💕

Okay I lied but being among names like Beyoncé, Ariana Grande, SZA and Kendrick Lamar is one of the biggest honours ever, I’m huge fans of them all and to be in the same space as them is an honour no words can express, I love you all, the most caring sweet fans on the whole planet 💕💕💕💕

(And yes, it was a reference to a physical key, this is it)

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User14 - We made the right one famous guys

User15 - I’m actually crying, when did she stop being our little secret

SabrinaCarpenter - My biggest fan 🩷

Yourusername - Your biggest fan 🩷

User16 - Oscar in the likes for what?

User17 - Who?

User18 - Oscar Piastri, he’s a 23 yr old f1 driver

User19 - What is vroom vroom boy doing here

AaronDessner - Truly blessed to work with you

Yourusername - I’m the blessed one don’t even

User20 - Only y/n could send a five minute long, slow, alt pop song with a main piano background, basically a depressing lullaby bop, to number one above all these TikTok songs

User21 - She’s actually adorable

OscarPiastri - Been on repeat!

Liked by author

User22 - UM HELLO WHAT ARE U DOING HERE LITTLE ORANGE MAN?

User23 - This is all bc of me btw

Celebrity.updates

Liked by, user24, and 82,828 others

Tagged | @/Yourusername @/OscarPiastri

Celebrity.updates - NEW COUPLE!!! Fast upcoming pop star, Y/n Y/l/n (21) seen out late at night on the streets of London with Formula one driver, Oscar Piastri (23), according to the source of these pictures the two were laughing and running around the streets together, when Oscar caught up to her and hugged her to him and kissed her. Rumours say that Y/n met Piastri through her ex partner who’s an engineer for f1 team Alpine, the pair seem to be quite smitten and loving with each other. What’s your thoughts on this?

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User25 - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN

User26 - Posting these photos is bad enough, but tagging them in it is crazy

User28 - Neither of them have even been hinting at a relationship at all, they clearly didn’t want anyone to know yet

User29 - Can’t these sickos just let them live, they’re people too

User30 - Whoever took these is messed up

User31 - They do look rlly happy together though

User32 - The fact that her ex is an alpine engineer makes this situation so much more funny and interesting

SabrinaCarpenter - You’re actually disgusting

User33 - TELL THEM SAB

User34 - The fact that she’s not even wrong

User35 - the fact that she defends Y/n with no hesitation

User36 - The friendship we all need in our lives

Yourusername

Liked by, OscarPiastri, SabrinaCarpenter and 2,928,198 others

Tagged | @/OscarPiastri

Yourusername - I hate it here a lot less when I’m with you 🤍 my favourite polite cat xxxx

View all comments

LandoNorris- Finally. The pair of you at the paddock hiding in MY divers room bc you were scared someone would see you in Oscar’s. Sigh.

Yourusername - You love me

User37 - OH MY GOD

User38 - I need to know the bears name

OscarPiastri- She named him Gerald

Yourusername - Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s our son

OscarPiastri - Sorry baby

User39 - Hysterical

OscarPiastri - My favourite smiling dog 🤍

Yourusername- Excuse me did you just call me a bitch

OscarPiastri- NO I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT

User40 - The dynamic is already everything to me

User41 - Even his GF knows he’s a polite cat

Yourusername - He so is (he’s in denial)

User42 -“ I hate it here a lot less with you” Shut the fuck up

OscarPiastri

Liked by, Yourusername, LoganSargeant and 1,872,001 others

Tagged | @/Yourusername

OscarPiastri - She made me a copy 🗝️🤍

View all comments

User43 - Someone sedate me

User44 - SHE. MADE. HIM. A. COPY.

User45 - WTFFFTTFTFTD

User46 - Literally the ultimate Oscar on Alpine revenge

Liked by author

Yourusername - I don’t need my secret gardens, or my lunar valleys anymore, because I have you 🤍

OscarPiastri- My favourite and only girl 🤍

User47 - I’m taking a nap on the highway

///////

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hysteria-things · 18 hours

Text

DRUNK IN LOVE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend has never been so in love. he has to prove it to you somehow.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, jealousy, oral (female receiving), spanking if you squint, overstimulation, dumbification, passing out

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 756

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day FIVE (🤫) of nate week!

WE ARE SO BACK…

genuinely, you don’t know how much more you can take, but god it feels so good. your legs are propped over nate’s shoulders, still shaking from your two previous orgasms.

juices coat his mouth and the sheets below, your fingertips massaging his hair. he hasn’t come up for air once, and it’s quite shocking to you.

your twitching lower half grinds into his face, chest heaving as you pant uncontrollably. your parents aren’t home, so you two need to take advantage of that.

the funny thing is, he’s not doing this because you guys got bored. he’s doing this because he saw you and this one kid talking at his lacrosse match… he didn’t like that.

the two of you are a well-known couple around school, so it didn’t take long for everyone to know you’re off limits. guess that one junior didn’t get the memo whatsoever.

before the other team gets to the school and while the stands slowly fill, they warm up as much as they can on the field. a glimpse of you catches nate’s eye, but you’re not alone.

nate stops in his tracks, staring intently at the way whoever that fucking kid is is talking to you. from where he is he can’t hear, but he can tell by the boy’s body language.

you’re too much of a people pleaser to notice, but your boyfriend can notice from a mile away that he’s flirting with you. his hand touches your shoulder while you’re laughing at something he said.

eyes like daggers, nate breathes heavily from anger the more he watches this go down. “nate, man, you good?” one of his teammates asks, jogging in front of him to block his view.

“yeah. i’m fine.”

it’s just the fact that he loves you so much he can’t help himself as he worships your pussy. his pussy, and he’s letting you know that it belongs to him and nobody else.

his tongue licks fast strands up your slit, high-pitched mewls leaving your mouth. “nate.” you sob, hot tears trickling down your face. “nathan.” you repeat, gripping tighter onto his brown locks and arching your back.

usually, he would praise you, but he’s so pussy drunk that he can’t pull away. your mind isn’t the only thing that’s not thinking straight. his isn’t either.

other than your cries and moans, the squelching noises your pussy makes are his favorite sound. he hums hungrily into your cunt, and you exhale when your third release of the night paints his lips that have to be swollen by now.

the view at nate’s eye level is fucking filthy. your poor comforter is drenched, practically ruined at this point. the inside of your thighs glistening with your folds fluttering the rest of your orgasm out onto his chin. this isn’t enough. he needs more.

his muscle enters your sopping hole, all red and used from continuous stimulation. gasping, you close your legs tight around his head and keep them there. this hits a new angle, making him dig deeper… and deeper.

you’re wrecked at this point, absolutely helpless and out of control. “stop it.” you whimper, breathing through your sobs.

with that, his hands grip your calves and spread your legs wider than they were before. “s-stop.” you cry out again.

you desperately try to push his head away, but of course, he doesn’t listen. in fact, he pulls you closer to the point where his nose grazes you clit with each stroke and slaps the outside of your thigh.

screaming, you accept your fate and lay there. he’s eating as if he’s never eaten a meal in his life. your whole body loosens, brain dead, and laying there to take it like you were supposed to do. your lower half is so numb that you don’t feel the other orgasm rip through you.

this time, he takes his lips and sucks at your pussy along with your clit. poor you, so useless and crying with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. then, your vision goes black; the rest of you becoming limp.

he kisses your puffy cunt before slowly stopping to catch his breath. a string of saliva mixed with your cum connects from his lips before he breaks it by pulling away.

getting up, he wipes his mouth and makes his way to where your face is. he rubs the tears from your cheeks and kisses the corner of your lips softly, whining before he thrusts into the mattress while cumming in his sweats. again.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel

#nate doe #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nathan doe #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #nate doe smut #nate doe fanfic

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nana-au · 2 days

Text

Best Friend Activities

Eren + Armin + You - MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Armin is a virgin and Eren enlists you to help out his best friend. Why is he watching? To make sure he’s doing a good job, of course.

(Dom!Eren, Virgin!Armin, Sub!Reader)

₊˚ପ⊹ an: Eren brings out something feral within me. I'm so sorry. Not proofread!!!

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 3.2k

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: mmf pairing, threesome, slight manipulation, breeding/pregnancy kink, mentions of public sex, f receiving! oral, p in v (no protection <3)

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Eren Jaeger was so skilled when it came to getting you all wrapped up in his dangerous plans. There was one time he convinced you to skip class to see a movie. Or another time when you two snuck into a bar before your 21st birthday. It made you blush, but you often thought about the time he fingered you in your college’s library a week before finals. His mouth open and hot against yours as you tried to breathe through the pleasure. His fingers sliding in and out, creating the lewdest noise as he shamed your wet pussy for being so loud - Every day with him was eventful to say the least. It shouldn’t have shocked you when Eren tracked you down on your way to class one day with the news of his next venture. He was a good boyfriend, allowing you time to think about it during your geology lecture.

Armin Arlert - Eren’s childhood best friend. Your face felt hot as the professor droned about naturally occurring crystal formations, you weren’t entirely convinced it was English he was speaking - you were that out of it. Armin. Armin. Armin. Your brain chanted. You were used to Eren’s ideas of a good time but this? This was new.

“I can’t let my best friend graduate college as a virgin! You understand right?” He had that smooth yet exasperated tone while explaining the dilemma. “You’re like nothing I’ve ever had,” he gave you his puppy dog eyes, “You’re the only one I trust to help my best friend with this,” He made it sound so nonchalant, like everyone fucks their boyfriend’s best friend. He noticed your hesitance as you breached the doors of your school’s science department, stopping you before your classroom door. “I’ve never led you down the wrong path, have I?”

You bit your lip, his final words echoing in your mind. He was always so selfless, putting himself before others. He was offering up his girlfriend to make sure his friend’s first time was a positive experience. How could you be the one to cut his streak of charitability short?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Throughout the day you felt more and more positive about what was going to happen - that was until you were in Eren’s bedroom with Armin at the edge of his bed. The blonde was fidgeting with his hands, you could tell he was just as unsure as you were.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Eren?” He asked him, giving him the option to back out. He would be lying if he wasn’t interested in you - hell, the whole school was. It seemed to be a weekly occurrence where Eren had to protect you from another man’s attention - it was nerve-wracking how Eren was so nonchalant about sharing you with him now.

“I’m Positive, ‘Min,” his smile was soft and sincere. Armin couldn’t hide the shiver that wracked across his spine. “You don’t mind, right Armin?” he shook his head fervently to Eren, biting down on his bottom lip as he searched for the right words. “I just recalled our talk way back when,” Eren was leaning back against his dresser, arms crossed and demeanor overtaken by cockiness as he continued, “When we first met her?” he spoke like you weren’t there. You were still by the door, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself from your nerves. Your eyebrows quirked at his mention of you, looking at Armin whose face grew even redder. “Do you remember, ‘Min?”

“Y-Yeah,” his voice quivers and his eyes won't move from a spot on the ground.

“What talk?” you speak up. Eren finally turns to you, his teeth peaking out of his smirk.

“Armin, do you want to tell her?” The blonde is speechless, you can see a light sheen of sweat on his features as he looks up to Eren. He shakes his head again, you can almost feel the anxiety that radiates off of him. “It’s okay, she’s here isn’t she? She won’t laugh. Right? You won’t laugh?” he addresses you and you’re forced to agree to soothe Armin. “Go on ‘Min,” he assures him. You move towards him, feeling on edge seeing someone you knew so well be so nervous. He won’t meet your eyes so you chose to sit next to him, putting your hand on his back.

“It’s okay,” you promise him. Silence follows your words and after a couple of minutes Eren decides to put an end to his misery.

“’s really no big deal, he just wanted to fuck you,” you can feel Armin’s body jump from the vulgar choice of words. He wouldn’t have put it so harshly. Before you and Eren were official, Armin had said he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. He may have also mentioned you were the first girl he ever really felt sexual feelings for. But, again, that was before you and Eren. In this moment, with Eren teasing him and you trying to comfort him, jumping out of the window didn’t sound like a terrible idea.

“I-I mentioned that you were really pretty,” he was trying so desperately to recover but the taller boy would never allow it.

“It’s okay Armin- she doesn’t mind. Seriously,” You nodded along to Eren’s words, starting to feel a little flushed yourself. “You want to fuck him now, right?” you now were on the hot seat, enduring his questioning.

“I agreed to help with his p-problem,” you were even beginning to stutter too. God what was Eren going to do with the two of you? He hovered over your figures on the edge of his bed, watching his best friend and girlfriend squirm at his words.

“Then don’t let me stop you,” You couldn’t move at first, unsure as to what you should even do. He chuckled and reached his hand up your skirt. “Do you need some help getting ready?” his finger looped into your panties and pulled them down to your thighs. You could feel his slender digit nudge your entrance. You hissed at what he found. “Armin, she’s already wet for you,” he laughs incredulously. The blonde finally finds it in himself to move, shifting his body to get a better look. Eren grabs the top of your skirt, pulling it up to your stomach so you were on full display to his friend. He looked shocked. Maybe excited? You were too busy trying not to close your legs at the intrusion to get a good read. “Go ahead, feel,” Eren invites him. He’s hesitant at first, meeting your eyes to make sure it was ok with you. You meekly nod before feeling his cold finger against you. He looks surprised, feeling your slickness on his finger. He nudges the tip of his index against your entrance, probing the velvety skin. “Put it inside,” Eren encourages and you don’t even wait for Armin to check if it’s ok before you are nodding enthusiastically. His soft digit glides into your pussy and he watches, mesmerized by the image in front of him. He can feel the ridges of your walls against his finger and he definitely feels you squeeze around him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. He pulls it all the way out, watching the way your arousal trails to his finger. Your eyes are wide as you watch him fall in love with your pussy, and Eren pets your head muttering to himself. You’re such a good girl, letting him explore you. He knew you would be perfect for the job.

“Do you see her clit?” he asks his friend. “Girls really like it when you play with that,” he advises him. Armin moves his finger up to your clit and your body jolts at sudden harsh feeling. “Rub it gently. In circles.” and Armin obeys. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, incredibly aroused by Armin’s intense interest in your intimate areas. His face was not unsimilar to how it looks when he studies; His brows furrowed in concentration and his jaw was slightly clenched. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, too transfixed on what was happening below. You let out a small mewl, his finger barely ghosting on your clit making it hard to think.

“What should I do next?” Armin asks Eren.

“What do you want to do next?”

“I want to eat her pussy,”

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

You were now at the top of the bed with your head underneath a pillow and your pussy enduring Eren’s lesson. He taught him how to swirl his tongue on your clit, how to delve the muscle into your entrance, and that you loved being teased with kitten licks. It felt almost professional the way they talked about your pussy - like you weren’t there. Like it wasn’t attached to you and you weren’t actively moaning at each flick of Armin’s tongue. Eren held down your thighs to keep you from squishing Armin’s head between them, still guiding him on what to do. “Use your finger on her clit again,” he instructed and your legs shivered. His tongue was keeping a steady rhythm in and out of you while his thumb reached up to rub delicious circles on your bundle of nerves. Eren looked proud watching him make you fall apart. “Keep going Armin, she’s gonna cum.” He picked the pace up, and consequently your hips started to rise off the bed. Armin’s face had your pleasure smeared across it as you bucked and pushed your pussy further against his mouth. You were losing control, begging Armin to go faster. “You want Armin to make you cum?” Eren asks you and you cry out a yes. “Armin is making you feel good baby?” and again you are saying yes.

“Yes, yesss. Mmm. I’m gon’ cum,'' you announce and Eren watches as you fall apart with his friend’s face attached to your pussy. When you come down and after a few more gentle licks, Armin’s head pops out from between your legs and he looks dazed. His lower face glistens with your fluid and his mouth heaves trying to take in much needed breaths. He barely gives himself time to process before he’s already wanting to be inside of you.

“Is that ok, Eren?” he asks, even though he’s not sure what he would do if the answer was no. Eren nods, but adjusts your position to be on top of him. He has you propped against his chest as he sits up against the headboard. The dizziness of making you cum fades once he realizes what he’s about to do, growing unsure of himself.

“What’s wrong?” Eren inquires and Armin can’t hold back a blush. Scratching the back of his head, he stares down at the two of you. “Look at her Armin, she wants you too,” and he’s right. You are squirming on top of Eren, your body anticipating what was about to come. Eren makes a show of grabbing your tits still under your shirt. He tweaks at the nipple, keeping his gaze on his friend.

“You won’t be mad?” It was a silly question to ask after he ate you out like a starving man, but he couldn’t help it. Eren didn’t want to admit his reasons were entirely selfish. He loved spilling his seed inside of you, promising one day to give you his kids. He loved watching you squirm as he edged you for hours, reducing you to tears and snot as you begged for release. He especially loved seeing you reach your peak in public, the idea of being caught incredibly arousing to him. He loved how you would do anything he asked of you; He was absolutely going to love you taking his best friend so good for him. All he could do was shake his head ‘No’ for now.

Armin undoes his belt, hands shaking as he pulls his pants down - his briefs joining after a moment of silent contemplation. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip angry with fat drops of precum spilling out of it. It’s fairly long, but not as thick as Eren’s. He crawls on the bed to join you two. His breath is shaky, looking down at you, and he can't help but squeeze the base of his length before gliding his hand up and down. Eren’s own hand reaches down to your pussy, playing with your entrance again.

“I’ll warm her up for it,” he tells Armin, sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you. You whine at the intrusion and he curls them inside you. He wastes no time hitting the spot that makes you throw your head back. “Kiss her, ‘Min,” he orders him. Your pink lips are wet with your spit and your eyes are half-open, lost in the feeling of Eren’s fingers. You ask Armin to kiss you when he doesn’t move at first. When his lips hit yours, Eren picks up the speed. You’re moaning - struggling to keep your lips pursed. The kiss is wet and sloppy and Armin is stroking himself a little faster listening to the squelch of your pussy. “I think she’s ready,” and Armin doesn’t allow himself another moment to reconsider.

He pulls away from the kiss, lining himself up to you, and pushing himself in. He doesn’t acknowledge that you might need a moment to adjust, he just buries himself all the way in, his voice straining, “Oh shit”. You let out a sharp moan, feeling him bully his way into your tight cunt. Once he’s in he can’t help himself from moving. You can also feel Eren rocking against your backside, matching the rhythm of his best friend’s cock going in and out of your sopping pussy. His pupils are blown out, enamored by the scene in front of him. He pulls your legs back to try and get a better look, causing Armin to go deeper than before. The both of you moan simultaneously at the new angle, your gummy walls massaging his dick perfectly, the head reaching the spot that makes you see stars. You’re completely out of it, drool seeping onto Eren’s shirt as your head rested against his chest. Eren doesn’t even notice - too entranced. Armin’s perfect cock pulls out of you, glistening with your slick, before pounding itself right back in. “It feels t-too good. I can’t last much l-longer..” his moans are high pitched - he completely lost himself in the feeling of your pussy taking him so perfectly. “F-fuck. You’re too perfect,” he hisses, choking out sobs. He’s so overstimulated by how tight you’re squeezing him, how everytime he pulls out your pussy desperately clings to his cock. And the noise - he will never forget the noise. You are so wet - your arousal now leaking down your thighs and smearing itself all over his balls.

“Cum in her, I don’t mind,” Eren promises. Armin picks up speed and he’s completely lost now. His moans are more like pathetic whines. He’s praising your pussy, thanking his best friend for allowing him to cum inside of you. Allowing you to milk his cock so perfectly. He rocks into you a few more times before he reaches impossibly deep, spilling his load. Eren wonders if it's dangerous for his cock to be this hard. You’re clawing at Eren’s thighs and Armin is crying out. He continues to cum, his dick twitching as his semen sprays your walls. He was babbling out a prayer as he came, thanking every deity he could think of that could have possibly made your pussy so perfect. Once Armin finally pulls off of you, his chest heaves, watching some of his fluid spill out of your perfect center. Eren’s fingers reach down to plug you up and Armin could have passed out at the filthiness of it all. “I gotta make sure it all stays in,” he tells Armin. He’s pulling down his sweatpants with his other hand, careful not to move the one keeping Armin’s cum buried in your hole. He shifts underneath you, making it so you’re laying now. “I think my dick would work better keeping it in,” he comments, mainly to himself. You’re squirming on top of him, excited for his thick cock to replace his fingers. He barges in as roughly as Armin - desperate to feel you squeeze his whole length. He makes quick work - fucking Armin’s children back up inside of you. “You think she can hold both of our loads, ‘Min?” Armin’s mouth is almost on the floor listening to his best friend’s dirty talk. “Fuck-” Eren can’t help but curse out. From his friend’s perspective he could see a mixture of fluids build at the base of Eren’s cock, creating a ring around it. The squelching sounds were overwhelming - along with your constant breathy moans. You were completely drunk off of their cocks. They were in awe with how well you took them - how good the attention of your pussy felt. Armin felt himself growing semi-hard, almost jealous Eren was feeling the heaven he just felt. You were truly an angel. “C’mere and rub her clit,” Eren spat out another order that Armin would be too stupid not to follow. He sat at the side of you two, his fingers reaching your nub.

You choked out a sob, “‘Min, you’re s-so good at that,” and he truly was. His fingers were soft and fast and he knew just the right speed to get your pussy clenching on Eren’s cock.

“G-god beautiful. You like him playing with your pretty pussy? Fuck! Squeezing me so tight. ‘M gonna cum inside you. Give you a baby, would ‘ya like that? Gonna breed you so good. All with Armin’s help, huh?” You're lost in his words, his cock - Armin’s delicate fingers. You come loud - you begin crying and reaching for Armin’s hand. He smacks it away, continuing his assault on your clit as Eren pounds into you. One arm is holding you down against him, the other spreading your left thigh open to make you take him well. He’s praising you, “Fuck- this tight pussy baby… ‘feels so good. Want me to come? Want me to mix our loads? Won’t know whose baby it is” His hair is flat against his forehead, almost completely covering his eyes. He can still see though, he’s watching his best friend relentlessly rub your clit and holding your hands so you can’t stop him. He’s overstimulated by the sight and his dick is twitching while rope after rope of cum shoots out of him and into your perfect pussy.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

The two boys take their time cleaning you up - not before they spend even longer watching their mixture spill out of you. They both take their turns shoving it back inside of you before watching it dribble out of you again. Armin can’t help himself from teasing your clit a few more times while Eren’s finger plays with the juices falling out of you. He teaches Armin a thing or two about the importance of aftercare, and the two of them clean you up in the bath.

Whilst watching Armin soap up your body Eren heavily considers making this a weekly occurrence.

225 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 2 days

Text

dance until we're bones

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader

summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.

a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier

wc: 17.1k

warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one

Hotch can barely stay awake.

He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point.

It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel.

He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there.

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always.

Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. ��As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.”

“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?”

“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”

“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.”

Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”

“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”

“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.”

“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says.

Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”

“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes.

“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says.

“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.”

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”

“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs.

JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.”

Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.”

The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file.

The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene.

It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house.

They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt.

It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control.

All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.

Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics.

They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it.

They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.

Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.

Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything.

First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect.

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.”

“What has he been charged for?”

“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail four years ago, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”

“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”

“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”

Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”

“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs.

They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind.

The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive.

“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.”

“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh.

Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising.

You.

Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock.

You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford.

“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.

He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.”

Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?”

Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”

“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?”

Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.

“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says.

You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…”

You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house.

It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all.

Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub.

“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.”

“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there’s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?”

He nods. “I had a change of heart.”

You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.”

Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”

You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.”

Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Charles area.”

“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him.

“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”

“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”

“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”

And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things:

Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be.

Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school.

“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.

“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts.

“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”

“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says.

You glower at him, but you stay silent.

“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.”

“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”

“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”

He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.”

“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?”

You nod. “He lives with me.”

He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

“Why is that?” Hotch asks.

You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too.

“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”

“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going.

“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.”

“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.”

“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?”

Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you.

“Really?”

He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him.

He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her.

And he didn’t even know when she died.

You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad.

“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went five years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says.

You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb.

“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.

“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.”

Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.”

His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even.

“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.”

Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.”

“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.

“No.”

“Do you want them to?”

“...No.”

You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.”

You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”

“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”

You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.”

Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.”

“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says.

You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.”

Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.”

She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door.

Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again.

“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up.

“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?”

“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.”

“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.

“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”

Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”

“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”

Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.

“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”

Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”

“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.”

Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case—

He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.

You’ve changed a lot. So has he.

And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him.

That’s the only thing that should be on his mind.

“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”

“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”

“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!”

Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.”

“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts.

They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”

You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief.

“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”

You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe.

“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused.

“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”

“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss.

“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”

Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”

“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”

“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”

“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”

“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”

He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.”

“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.”

“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses.

You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once.

“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”

“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck.

“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”

“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”

You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve got that right.”

He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on.

“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”

“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”

“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity.

“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”

Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs.

Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world.

“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”

“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.

“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”

“Looks like it.”

You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air.

(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)

You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger.

Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it.

You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.

They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing.

All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people.

And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong.

You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you.

Because god— what are the odds?

What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother?

It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years.

It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time.

If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”

“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you.

“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.”

“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties.

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.

“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?”

“Not one for small talk,” you remark.

“I never have been.”

“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.”

You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now.

You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face.

“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”

“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.”

“Rent or own?”

“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”

“What inspired the move?”

“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.”

“And home is?”

“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.”

“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says.

“Sources can lie.”

Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.”

He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up.

You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had.

You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened.

“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”

“None of those sound like questions,” you say.

“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“You don’t know,” he repeats.

“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I don’t ask questions.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it.”

“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.”

Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?”

“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“You didn’t tell him—”

“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?”

He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse.

“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.”

“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.”

“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.”

“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.”

“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply.

Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly.

“And you’re wrong, by the way.”

“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken.

“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.”

And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you.

“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.”

“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.”

“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”

“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.”

“...I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least.

“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.”

Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.”

You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.”

“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.”

You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You know th—”

Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.”

The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.”

He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file.

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”

You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking.

“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.”

“The profile—”

“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.”

“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly.

He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this.

For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right.

You have to be right.

The room feels even colder.

Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do.

You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him.

Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room.

“She does not like you.”

“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie.

“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.”

“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands.

Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor.

“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.”

“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”

“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.”

“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him.

And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him.

He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things.

“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”

Morgan frowns. “Explain.”

“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”

“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”

“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.”

“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again.

“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.”

“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.”

“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”

“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.”

Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation.

“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.”

They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego.

“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.”

Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside.

He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”

You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch…

Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore.

Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you.

“They sent a new one in,” you say.

“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”

You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual.

“I can imagine.”

He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off.

“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.

He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation.

The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time.

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks.

When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”

He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”

“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks.

“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says.

She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”

Hotch isn’t sure yet.

But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong.

Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier.

It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once.

You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron.

You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s head as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard.

You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you.

It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round.

You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed.

Aaron says your name, and you hum.

“Are you listening?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say.

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?”

You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly.

“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully.

Your eyes open and you frown.

You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.

It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate.

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”

You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.

“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”

“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.”

“...Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?”

He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”

“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.”

Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?”

“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron.

You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction.

But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up.

“Go for it,” you finally say.

He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?”

“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.”

You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you.

“Thank you,” he says.

“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.”

He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything.

You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand.

Sometimes you need reminders.

“I love you too.”

“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.”

“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs.

Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third.

No one expected this to happen so soon.

The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt.

Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work.

An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation.

Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved.

He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it.

Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press.

Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.”

He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”

“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.”

Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.”

“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on.

“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.”

The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight.

JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city.

The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information.

“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.”

“What are they?” Hotch asks.

“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says.

“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks.

“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.”

“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”

“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.”

Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.”

“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests.

Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.”

“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?”

“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.”

“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully.

Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.”

“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.

“And?” Hotch asks.

“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.”

Hotch frowns. You?

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.”

“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again.

“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.”

“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.”

“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up.

“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.”

“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.”

Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.”

Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died five years ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail last year.”

“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.”

“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.”

“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.”

“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.”

“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.”

“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says.

“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”

“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods.

Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him.

“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says.

“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks.

“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.”

And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him.

“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”

“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?”

“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.”

“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.

“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?”

He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—”

“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.”

“What would I do without you?” he asks.

“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.”

“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up.

Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him.

Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze.

“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind.

“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.

“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”

And he does.

You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear.

Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale.

A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame.

Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner.

It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff.

Of course you have to deal with this now.

Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down.

“You’re already packed.”

You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning.

“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask.

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks.

“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?”

His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.”

Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit.

“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”

“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him.

“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?”

“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head.

You take the box from him and smile thinly.

“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”

You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open.

You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.

“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”

His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.”

“They haven’t been back, have they?”

You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail.

Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests.

“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.”

He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops.

“Did you go to class today?”

“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff.

“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”

“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”

“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.”

His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”

You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”

“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit.

“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” he says.

“That’s it,” you muse.

Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up.

“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.”

“...Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.”

“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?”

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”

“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”

“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to.

“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”

“I think? I was in jail, so.”

You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.”

“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”

He frowns. “What’d you say?”

“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.”

“What have they said about me?” he asks.

“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…”

You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.”

You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.”

“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.”

“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.”

You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home.

“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up.

“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”

Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before.

You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard.

Then, there’s nothing.

Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is.

The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at.

It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims.

If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”

“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters.

“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”

“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?

You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that.

It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him.

It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.

Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that.

Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?”

“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.”

“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.”

“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”

Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching.

“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”

“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”

“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up.

“What?”

“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”

Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”

“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”

Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night.

And now…

Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not.

“Thank you, Garcia.”

“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?”

For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it.

“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.”

“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly.

Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him.

“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.”

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words.

It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why.

You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes.

Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs.

Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?

Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—

“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze.

“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.”

“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.”

Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.

You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body.

You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life.

And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.”

He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.”

“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?”

“...You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.”

“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.”

“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.”

“I’ve always believed in you,” you say.

He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”

“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.”

You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises.

“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”

You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother had divorced him by then, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided.

“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?”

“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!”

“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.”

“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”

“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.”

All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to.

Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly.

When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget.

Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out.

You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here.

You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now.

“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.”

“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers—they figure things out.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.” Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.”

He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.

“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”

Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.”

“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says.

“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”

“Put the gun down,” he repeats.

“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.”

“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.”

“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?”

“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.”

He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you.

“Put the gun down,” another agent warns.

“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”

“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think.

“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.”

Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave.

“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.”

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.”

“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”

“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”

“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?”

“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.”

Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.”

“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.”

“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.”

“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.”

“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you.

“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.”

You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you.

And then it happens so quickly you barely process it.

There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground.

You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you.

Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force.

Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead.

The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake.

Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”

A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms.

“I know.”

Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment.

“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.”

You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers.

But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron.

“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!”

You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours.

“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.

He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete.

“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.”

And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name.

It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die.

You wake up in the hospital alone.

You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you.

The real surprise is that you wake up at all.

Lucas is dead.

He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded.

You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real.

You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life.

You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day.

Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all.

You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life.

And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind.

He was going to kill you.

Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU.

Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner.

The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him.

“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you.

But there’s relief there, too.

He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside.

“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly.

Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.”

“And how long have I been here?”

“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.”

You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”

“How bad was it?” you ask.

Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…”

“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.”

He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.

“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”

“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?”

Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start.

“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.”

“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.”

“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.”

You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!”

“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—”

You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same.

“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper.

You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life.

“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues.

“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”

He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number.

“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.”

You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner.

“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.”

“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…

Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together.

“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.”

“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.”

“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit.

“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.”

“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.”

Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.

“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out.

“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume.

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.

Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.

“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.”

Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down.

“Okay.”

And he stays.

This time, he stays.

#i was truly possessed while writing this i can't understand it #i wrote 15k words in 5 days #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

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satorusugurugurl · 2 days

Note

Idk how you would turn this smutty. But I guess it doesn’t have to be. But how would the jjk boys deal w their girl being depressed or just not really liking herself

JJK Men: When You’re Feeling Depressed/Anxious/Down

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU),

Word Count: 4,090

Warnings: Mentions of low self-worth, depression, self-negativity, anxiety, fluff!

A/N: A fix for those of us who have those bad days and need a little pick me up.

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo noticed something was wrong from the exasperated sigh from the bedroom. Popping his head in, he watched as you threw a top down on the ground, joining the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your face was comforting between frustration and anger before you laid down on the bed, face down; your scream muffled into the mattress.

Seeing you like this, distraught and in distress, had Satoru padding across the floor, plopping down on the bed next to you. His large, warm hand gently rubbed up and down your back in soothing strokes. Only stopping when you slowly pulled back to look up at him.

“What's bothering you, sweet pea?”

“I just,” you sighed heavily, “nothing looks good on me. I feel dumpy, and I hate how I look.”

The harshness of your words had Satoru moving as if you had slapped him. “I'm sorry?” His hands cupped your face, squeezing it. “It just sounded like someone was insulting my girlfriend.” you tried pulling away from him, groaning as your hands pushed at him.

“Toru, stop!”

“No, you stop.” His tone left no room for arguments. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen: your face, personality, even this perfect body. Everything about you is perfect.” he was pleased when you didn't argue with him, “You don't like your clothes? You don't like how the clothes look? Come on.” he yanked you up, tossing you one of his shirts.

“Huh? What?”

“I said, come on.”

While wallowing in yourself, pity sounded like a beautiful idea. You knew your boyfriend. He wouldn't stop at nothing until you listened. So you reluctantly got up, dressed in one of his expensive shirts, before he dragged you out of the apartment.

Knowing Satoru, he would take you to some sweets shop and get you whatever you wanted. That was something you expected when it came to him. What you hadn't been expecting was for him to pull you into a boutique, the boutique you'd always fantasized about shopping at.

“W-Why are we here?” you asked, eyes wide as Satoru sat in a plush chair.

“You don't like any of your clothes, so I’m going to buy you a whole new wardrobe.” he leaned back, giving you a dazzling smile. “You shop to your heart's content, sweetheart.”

Your eyes moved around the shop, taking in the clothes you'd dreamt of wearing. “I-I can't, Toru, it's too expensive.” Satoru sighed dramatically, leaning his head back.

“I’m the head of the Gojo clan, a single child, and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Money is not a problem. I could buy out the entire store, and that's pocket change.” You twiddle your fingers, still feeling hesitant. “Sweetie,” you lifted your eyes, “have fun, you’ll feel so much better.”

Part of you didn't want to do this, to spend his money. It felt like he was a Sugar-Daddy when he presented you with extravagant gifts, but at the same time, he liked spoiling you. With a pout, you began thumbing through racks and pulling out tops and pants you liked before handing them to an awaiting clerk.

You glanced and grazed, pulling stuff off racks that looked good. Before you knew it, you stood in the dressing room surrounded by what seemed like dozens of articles of clothing. Would any of these even look good? Or would you still feel dumpy? The only way you would know was if you tried them on, which you had been dreading.

You pulled on a pair of jeans, a blouse, and some shoes before walking out. Satoru perked up, jaw-dropping as you stood in front of the mirrors. You looked—amazing. Your face mirrored his. You looked so pretty. The clothes fit you perfectly and complement the curves of your body along with your skin tone. For the first time all day, you felt good about yourself.

“Wow, just wow.” Satoru was a beaming ball of sunshine. “You looked beautiful earlier, but the confidence radiating off you is blinding! Strongest sorcerer in the world and luckiest boyfriend in the world!” You watched him pump his fist in the mirror.

“I feel perfect about this one.” you did a little twirl, looking at your backside.

“Me too! Go on, try on the next outfit! I wanna see everything.”

You felt as though you were in a movie. Going through a montage of outfits, all of which Satoru excited. He proudly announced to one of the attendants that you were his stunning girlfriend and looked terrific in everything. Ultimately, Satoru bought you ten new outfits, six dresses, ten pairs of shoes, and some jewelry.

You walked out in one of your new sun dresses, grabbing onto your white-haired boyfriend's arm. With a glance down at you, Satoru signed contentedly, squeezing your hand. You had a smile that could light up a million stages. His hand gently squeezed yours; your head tilted to stare at him.

“Feel better?” Satoru asked, giving you a wide smile.

“A million times better. Thank you, you didn't have to do that—” Having him spend that money on you left a bad taste in your mouth. Satoru could see how you avoided his gaze, how your hand tightened.

“I know.” The gentleness of his tone had your nerves relaxing. “But you were down, and I wanted to make you feel better. And from that adorable smile. I'd say I did a pretty damn good job.”

“You're so full of yourself.” Satoru swung your conjoined hands back and forth. “But that doesn't mean that you're wrong. You did an excellent job, Satoru; thank you again.”

“Anthrung to brighten your day, sweetheart. Now, let's grab some lunch! I wanna be the guy to take the hottest woman in the world to lunch!”

Geto Suguru:

Suguru could see it in your grin at work. It was a soft smile, one that screamed to others that you were okay. Everything was perfect in your life. But he could see the way that smile fell when everyone looked away. You weren't your perky, bubbly self, and that worried him.

Suguru waited until after the last of the students to leave before he walked up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. For a brief moment, he feared that you might pull away, that you needed space. He held a bated breath until you relaxed against his chest, allowing yourself to be engulfed by his larger frame.

He stayed like that, holding you tight for a long moment and not moving until you shifted from one leg to another. It was a signal that told him you wanted to move without outwardly saying it. So he released you, arms falling to his sides, hands sliding into his pockets as you stepped to collect your bag off the desk.

“Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding your head instead of answering him. You knew if you were to open your mouth to confess that you weren't as okay as you claimed, you would end up crying. You knew Suguru could see you weren't OK, but he wasn't the type to pry. So he just wrapped his arm around you and ushered you out of the classroom to head back home.

When you arrived, you took off your shoes and jacket and began heading to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner. Suguru was faster than you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the living room, where he forced you to sit on the couch. He was lightning fast, sitting behind you, his hands gently rubbing at your tense shoulders, making you melt.

His fingers rubbed and kneaded the stiff muscles in your shoulders and upper back. His touch back in the classroom had been a comfort, but having him rub out the tension had you moaning as you leaned forward. Your soft mewls had him grinning, his fingers and hands continuing to move over your back.

“So,” he began, “will you tell me what's wrong? Or would you prefer to savor the moment?”

With a soft sigh, your body arched, leaning into his touch. “I just haven't been feeling like myself. I wake up a ball of stress, and I haven't been sleeping well.” A lump began to form in your throat as you struggled to find the words. “Works been a lot; I've been working twelve-hour days, that's not even including missions.” the tears you had been holding back this entire time finally escaped. “And I feel like I could do more for everyone and you. I don’t feel like I’m putting enough effort into everything.” The kneading of Suguru’s hands ceased; they remained still, gently squeezing your shoulders.

He took a moment to process your words, to filter through the pain and the stress that seeped through them. It was painfully clear to him that you were far more stressed than he had imagined. Situations like this called for more than just a back massage.

”I’m sorry that you have so much on your plate right now. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” The couch shifted as your boyfriend stood up, scooping you into his arms and carrying you toward the bathroom. “I think you might need to take a day off for yourself and stop worrying so much about helping everyone else out.”

Suguru sat you on the bathroom counter before unzipping his uniform jacket. “But I wan—“ He placed his forefinger gently over your lips, silencing the protests and excuses he knew you were going to make.

”I know you want to help. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help out your co-workers and partner when a lot is going on. But you must also remember to care for the most important person.”

”Whose that?”

”You.” His words left your cheeks burning as you watched him draw a bath. “You want to help, but you can’t do that when you’re grinding yourself to the bone. For tonight, don’t worry about work, me, or what we're going to have for dinner. I want you to focus on you.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Suguru was right, and you had been working yourself to the brink of death. A hiccup was the only sound Suguru needed to hear to know that his words had struck home. Turning his head, bangs flowing, he shut his eyes as he gave you the warmest smile. You sat on the counter, wiping at your tired eyes, sniffling like a child as your boyfriends strode forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

”Let’s take the night to focus on you.”

Suguru ordered dinner, and as you both waited for it to be delivered, you soaked in the bath together. The aroma of your favorite bubble bath mix and candles calmed you down. Your eyes were heavy as you pressed yourself back against Suguru’s bare chest, humming contently as he held you close. For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself slip into a deep slumber in the flickering glow of the candlelight. Your deep breathing and relaxed features left Suguru’s heart feeling light. Taking care of you was one of the greatest pleasures of the world.

Nanami Kento:

Nanami straightened his tie as he looked over himself in the mirror. With a heavy sigh, he stepped out of the bathroom and into your room, where you were nowhere to be found. The bed was unmade, so that you couldn't have gone far.

After grabbing his keys and wallet, Nanami went to the kitchen, where you were. Cocking an eyebrow, he began searching the apartment for you. The living room was empty, as well as the other bathroom. He was getting ready to pull out his phone to call you when a soft sniffle caught his attention.

The sound resonated from the office, where, upon looking inside, he found you sitting on the floor. You were surrounded by a pile of laundry in the basket, a list of groceries you needed to pick up, and you were reading over a report. He was watched for a long moment; tears ran down your cheeks as you sniffled, your eyes darting around items.

It was painfully evident you were in the midst of a depressive episode. When you suffered through these episodes, simple tasks you usually completed with ease were overwhelming to the point you held off on them until you could no longer ignore them. Seeing you so overwhelmed and drowning in your emotions had Nanami’s mind reeling on ways that he could help.

For now, the two of you need to get to work. With a gentle tap of his knuckles against the door, Nanami watched you regain your composure. You were taking several deep breaths, wiping at your eyes before you stood up, grabbing a boom to make it look as if you hadn't just been having an episode.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Your fiance asked, watching as you hurriedly passed him with your head down. “If we leave now, we’ll have time to stop for coffee.”

“Yeah, I’m ready!” Nanami listened to your voice fade before he stepped inside, grabbing the grocery list off the floor and sliding it into his pocket.

“Alright, let’s head out.”

The day went by too fast for you as you sat in the morgue looking over the folders you still needed to file. All the deaths had been bringing up memories of Haibara and the young lives that had been lost in your line of work. You needed a break to escape the death that constantly seemed to follow you in your work.

On top of all the work that had you drowning in sorrow, you had been neglecting the housework. You had fully intended on doing it before Nanami got home from his latest mission, but to your horror, he got home earlier than you thought. Meaning he saw how neglectful you had been, and that made you feel even worse about yourself.

Before those self-destructive thoughts could overtake you, the door to the morgue opened. What you had assumed was Shoko turned out to be your fiancè. What time was it?! Was he already picking you up? You snatched the clock off your desk and felt your stomach drop into your ass. It was six thirty. Six-fucking-thirty, you still had to go to the store, do laundry, and make dinner on top of everything else.

“I was beginning to wonder if you planned on sleeping here tonight.”

“N-No, sorry, I just—” Nanami tilted his head, “I lost track of time.”

“Right, well come on, let's go.”

On the walk back to the apartment, your mind was jumping back between the unfinished files at work and everything that needed to be done at home. All of it was important, you knew that. All you wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and sleep. This suffocating sadness had its grip around your neck, choking the life out of you and rendering you exhausted beyond all means.

There would be time to cry yourself to sleep once your chores were taken care of. Thinking about the pile of laundry awaiting you had your skin crawling as you entered the apartment. The same apartment that had been messy this morning was now tidy and smelt like the cleaning products you used. Your head darted to the number on the door. Did you walk into the wrong apartment?

The pictures on the walls of you and Nanami confirmed that you were, in fact, inside the correct apartment. Which only confused you more as you stepped further inside, taking off your shoes. You speed walked to the office to finish the laundry. But the basket was gone? Okay, so groceries.

You searched for the list you had made, looking under some books, the desk, and your recliner before Nanami cleared his throat from behind you. “If you’re looking for the list, I took it.” Wooden floorboards creaked under his weight before he held a bouquet of your favorite flowers towards you.

“W-What’a this for?” you questioned, your fingers grazing over his as you took the flowers from him.

“I noticed you were looking down and stressed this morning, so I figured you needed a little pick-me-up.”

The sweet floral smell flooded your senses as you inhaled deeply. “Oh Kento, these are beautiful, thank you.” His large hand cupped your cheek, caressing your skin.

“I also cleaned, finished the laundry, and picked up the groceries. So all you need to do tonight is relax.”

“K-Ken—” Words couldn't describe the relief that washed over you, “you didn't have to do that.”

“I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to.” You were gently pulled in, his lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re my partner, my future wife. There aren't set duties that you solely need to do. We're a team; I can easily help.” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks just as you threw yourself into his arms, bawling into his chest.

Your future husband smiled sadly, wrapping his big, strong arms around you. His hands soothingly rubbed up and down your back in gentle strokes, making you cry even harder. Kento was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Compassionate, loving, and gentle, what more could you ask for a partner?

You cried for what seemed like hours in Kento’s arms. Never once did he get annoyed or urge you to hurry up. Once you felt incapable of crying anymore, you pulled back, hiccuping.

“Feel better?” Kento asked, gently cupping your face in both hands. A nod was all he received back as a response. “Good. Now let's eat dinner, bathe, and relax.” That is precisely what you did, snuggled up next to him, dozing off as he stroked your head. His eyes raked over the page of his newest book. All the worries faded as you drifted to sleep, engulfed in the warmth of his body.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

“I-Is it gonna hurt?” The young eighteen-year-old girl asked as Sukuna held her lip with sterile forceps.

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?” Sukuna snickered, holding up a large needle.

“N-No?”

“Then let me do my job.”

With a stab, yelp, and one ring later, Sukuna watched the girl wiping tears away as she checked out. He was snickering as he sterilized his workstation. There is a fifty-fifty chance she'll keep it or not. But he got to get one hundred percent of the tip regardless. So he couldn't complain.

“Sukuna,” Geto called from outside his room, holding the shop's phone. “It’s for you.”

With a glance at the clock, Sukuna could make a couple of guesses as to who would be calling him at work at two-thirty on a Thursday afternoon. Either one of his little brothers got into a fight, and the school was calling, or it was one of his clients calling to reschedule with him. Hoping for the second possibility, he huffed an annoyed sigh, taking the phone from his co-worker.

”This is Sukuna.” The line was silent, almost too quiet. “Hello?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the client's chair. “Look, I got important stuff to do, so if no one is bleeding or needs my attention, I’m hanging up.”

A whimper stopped him from pressing the red phone icon on the phone. He knew that voice all too well. It belonged to you, his girlfriend of two months. Why the fuck were you crying? Panic settled in his chest as he stood up, his chair rolling away as he held the phone flush against his ear with his shoulder.

”Babe?” He asked, getting another whimper in response. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Geto and the others had all gathered around, exchanging worried glances with each other as Sukuna rushed to grab his jacket and helmet from his locker. “Hey, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

”I-I’m sorry —“ Soft sobs sounded from the line, “I had a terrible anxiety attack, and work sent me home, and I just feel so out of it. I know you’re at work, but I need you.”

“Do ya’ really think I give a fuck about work when you feel like this?” His voice came out a bit harsher than he wanted. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—-“

Fuck, he knew better than to snap when you were in the midst of an attack like this. “No, you’re okay. I need you to tell me where I need to go.” Sukuna held his breath, waiting for you to respond.

”M-My apartment.”

”Unlock the door; I’ll be there in ten.” A soft sob between understanding and goodbye sounded from the other line just as he hung up. “Geto—“

His co-worker was typing on his phone. “I’m texting Satoru now; he’ll pick up Yuuji and Choso. I’ll call and rebook your other appointments. Get out of here.” Sukuna gave him a thumbs up and a sharp ‘thanks’ before he bolted out of the shop.

Just like he had promised you, he made it to your apartment in less than ten minutes, bolting up the stairs and turning a sharp corner before throwing open your door. He locked the door, threw off his shoes, and hurried to the one place he knew you’d be at. Sure enough, he found you under the sheets in bed, curled in a fetal position.

Your body shook with sobs, ones that made Sukuna feel like someone was twisting a knife into his stomach. He truly hated your anxiety attacks just as much as you did. Not because he had to help you through the tremors and tears. But because he hated seeing how much they wrecked you.

You were amid a choked sob when the bed sheets lifted, and your boyfriend's musky amber scent flooded your senses. His smell alone had your grip on the sheets loosening as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His body was so far, his hands gentle as you buried your face into his side, crying roughly, your tears soaking his shirt.

”Shh, it’s alright, brat, let it out. I got you; you’re going to be just fine.”

The sadness that clutched you tightly began to fade as he continued whispering into your ear. His soft words and gentle praises had you curling closer into him. Your boyfriend was the best at bringing you back into reality. He was your life preserver, holding you afloat in the sea of melancholy that would have drowned you by now.

This was the reason he was the one person you called in situations like this. Where the sadness was too much for you to carry or when your anxiety felt like it had possessed you, Sukuna was there to ground you and bring you back to your senses. Days like these were when you thanked whoever spun the bottle the night you played Seven Minutes in Heaven.

”You good?” Sukuna asked as he felt your trembles die out.

”Yeah, I’m just sorry I called you at work. For something so miniscule over an anxiety attack.”

Sukuna hummed and flicked your forehead with a painful—thump before he pulled your body closer to his own. “I gave you the phone number for the shop for a reason, brat.” His finger ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. “I care about you; I want you to call me when you're feeling down or if you need me.” There was a particular hint of shyness to his tone before he cleared his throat. “So what happened?”

“Do I have to talk about it?” You questioned with a sigh. “I just want to lay here and relax with you.”

“Babe,” pulled you tighter against him. “We can do whatever you want. No questions asked.”

You got what you wanted, and that was him by your side, grounding you. He made instances like this easier to deal with. Just his presence alone was enough to make you feel like everything was going to be okay. All because Sukuna was by your side.

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jordyn14 · 2 days

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Hey

Can you please write a Joe x wife reader where Joe and reader have been trying to get pregnant for a while and then reader finds out their pregnant and tells Joe in a cute way and he can’t contain his happiness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem first person

Words: 1600

Notes: since it’s my bday week and I’m having so much fun writing, I’m trying to get out fics a little faster this week! :)) thanks for the Request. <3

My eyes filled with tears as soon as I flipped over the pregnancy test and saw those two blue lines on the ClearBlue test. For 7 whole months Joe and I have been trying to get pregnant. We started after our wedding, hoping to see those two blue lines within two weeks, but two weeks turned into a month, and one into seven. Every single time we flipped over that test and saw one line and not two, we tried our best to stay positive, but it was hard. There were so many tears and I felt like we should just give up. I didn’t know how many more times I could take Joe’s same speech over and over again about how no matter how long it took, we would have our little family one day.

But now I was pregnant. I didn’t have to look into Joe’s eyes and tell him we weren’t pregnant for the millionth time. I didn’t have to stare into Joe’s blue eyes while he tried to hold back tears of sadness and watch as the hope was slowly draining from him.

As I looked up at myself in the mirror, tears rolled down my face and onto the counter under me. I was going to be a mom. It felt surreal to look at my stomach and realize that there was a little growing baby inside. I put my shaking hand over my mouth and I couldn’t stop looking at those 2 blue lines and at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I was on top of the world and thinking about telling Joe in just a couple of hours when he came home from practice overjoyed me. “I’m pregnant.” I told myself, not able to contain my excitement.

For the next two hours, time seemed to be going so slow. Every time I looked at my phone and expected a half an hour to pass, only ten minutes passed. I was restless. I wanted to tell Joe so badly. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized he was going to be a dad in just nine months. Not only were we going to be parents together, but I would get to raise a child with the most amazing man ever who isn’t just easy on the eyes, but is an incredibly person inside and out.

When I finally got the text from Joe saying he was on his way home, I practically sprinted upstairs and to my nightstand drawer where I kept a little mini Joe Burrow jersey and laid that down on the bed with the test on it. From the moment we started trying to get pregnant, I knew that I wanted to surprise him with his little jersey for our little son or daughter to wear when they’re born.

I sat on the bed and tried to pick through my different emotions. I was nervous, anxious, happy, worried, but mostly excited. Excited to be a mom. Excited to start our little family. From the moment I fell in love with Joe, I knew I wanted to create a family with him and now that was becoming a reality. Before we knew it, we’d have a little mini Burrow running around the house acting like a fool, and I couldn’t wait. Hey, maybe I was even carrying twins.

Before I knew it, I heard the front door swing open and just like clockwork, Joe said, “I’m home.” As soon as he said this, I couldn’t hold back the tears and started to cry some more. I just couldn’t contain the excitement. “Jordyn?” Joe called out, sounding a little worried, wondering why I wasn’t running over to give him a hug and ask him how his day was like usual. I wiped off a tear and sniffled back the tears a little bit. “Up here.” I answered him and stood up to meet him by the door. As I walked to the door frame, I could hear Joes footsteps getting closer and closer. My heart beat so incredibly fast in my chest and I couldn’t stop smiling.

As soon as Joe came into view and saw me crying, he dropped the bag that he was holding immediately. “hey, hey, are you okay?” He asked me and wrapped my in his arms. One hand was placed around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and the other was placed on the back of my head. With a smile, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair he decided to grow out for the season. “Everything is more than okay, Joey.” I said. Once I said this, Joe pulled back to look me in the eyes and once he did, I noticed the slightly confused look on his face.

Leaning forwards, I placed a small kiss on joes lips and then let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. “Go look on the bed.” I said. Joe looked past me and at the bed and noticed something laying on it, but I could tell he was still confused. Dropping my arms from around Joes neck, he slowly let go of me as well and walked closer to the bed. I followed after him, waiting for him to realize that he was going to be a dad.

A small gasp left Joe’s lips as the realization that I was pregnant set in. I couldn’t help but smile as he reached down and grabbed the pregnancy test. After a few seconds, I walked to the side of him and watched as he ran his fingers over the mini jersey while holding the pregnancy test in his other hand. As I studied Joe’s face, I started to get nervous. There was almost no emotion or expression on his face. What if he changed his mind about kids? What if he didn’t want me to be pregnant right now.

Before I started to freak myself out more, Joe looked over at me with those gorgeous, tear filled blue eyes. “Oh wow.” Joe said simply as his bottom lip began to quiver slightly. I sucked in a breath at his reaction and started to cry more myself. Joe put his hand on his chest and took a step back, taking everything in. He kept looking at me, then the pregnancy test, me, then the pregnancy test. “I’m going to be a dad?” Joe asked me excitedly. “You’re going to be a dad.” I said, wiping off a tear that streamed down my cheek. The both of us started crying more as he closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me. Without me expecting it, he picked me up off of the ground gently and spun around in a circle, a little excited laugh leaving his mouth. I giggled while up in the air before he placed me back down on the ground.

Once down on the ground, we both held each other so incredibly tightly, so overwhelmed with the news. I buried my head in Joe’s chest and I could tell he was crying quietly. Unlike every other time we flipped the test over, they were happy and relieved tears. After so long of trying and feeling like nothing would work, he was finally going to be a dad. “I can’t believe this,” Joe said and pulled his head back, revealing his red eyes and nose, “our little baby’s in here right now.” He said, letting out a deep breath while looking down at my stomach.

It was hard for me to talk because of the tears. I opened my mouth to say something, but I knew if I tried to talk I would cry harder. With a smile, Joe took his hands off of me for a second and swiped his thumbs under my eyes to catch the tears before holding my face gently in his hands. He nodded with a small smile, letting me know he understood what I wanted to say. Letting go of Joe, I did the same thing and swiped under his eyes, getting a laugh out of both of us before gently grabbing his wrists, the both of us just gazing into each other’s eyes. I took a deep breath and let it out with a small laugh.

“We’re gonna be parent’s, Joey. Can you believe it?” I asked him. Joe just shook his head and looked back at the pregnancy test. “No. No, not really.” He chuckled and sniffled a little. “At least we know why you were sick this morning before I left for practice.” Joe said. “I totally thought it was those crab legs, they looked a little bit odd.” I giggled. Joe laughed and nodded. “They did look a bit funky didn’t they?” As we looked into each others eyes, Joe looked at me like I was the most beautiful, fragile, perfect women on the entire planet before closing the distance and placing a kiss on my lips. When we pulled away, we rested our foreheads together while making eye contact. “I love you…and our baby,” Joe said and looked down at my stomach, “more than anything in the entire universe.” Joe said. “Even SpongeBob?” I joked with him. “Yes, even SpongeBob.” Joe laughed and nodded. “Well in that case, I love you…and this baby,” I said and glanced down at my stomach like Joe did, “more than anything in the entire universe as well Joseph Lee Burrow.” I said.

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dreamauri · 9 hours

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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed.

“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!”

Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk.

“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way.

“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”

The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.

“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!”

“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.

He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.

Just two people . . . being people.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.”

It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.

You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.

Surely people make close friends online all the time.

You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.

“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were.

Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . . not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.

“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”

“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,”

“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone.

“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!”

“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.

Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt.

Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend?

“You do know what my job is, right, La?”

“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is.

Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey um, million?”

“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own.

“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out.

“Yeah?”

“Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,”

The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!”

“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.

“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you.

“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.

Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.

“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest.

“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.

He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.

It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’

“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.

proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 24 hours

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Grocery Shopping with Price

My blog is predominantly 18+ minors DNI

No warnings but there are mentions of food, reader is able to have periods, but otherwise blank slate. 632~ Words Lynx is the UK brand name for Axe body spray

Price just likes letting you take control in these scenarios.

Yes, he’s happy to meal plan and list build with you, he loves that aspect, it’s very on-brand for him. But when it comes to strolling through the aisles, picking things out off the shelves, he leaves the control to you.

You send him off to retrieve things from across the store and he comes back with exactly what you ask for without fail.

Sometimes he’ll remember other things from the list on the way, piling up impossibly large amounts of produce and dry goods in his muscular arms. He even hid a jar of your favourite night-cream under his boonie hat that one time that had you crying with laughter.

Today you’re in the fresh produce aisle, poking and prodding, groping and grabbing at different fruits and veggies to determine ripeness and freshness. You’re cramping like mad, and you’ve sent John off to get the majority of the shop as you hobble around, clutching at the trolley for dear life.

You’re two days into one of the worst periods of your adult life, and already wishing you’d just got John to do the shop so you could stay home cradling a hot water bottle. You’re minding your own business as a shadow looms over your shoulder.

“Need a hand there, pet?” An unfamiliar grunt makes you pause as you slowly turn to look up to address the source of the intrusion.

The man is your typical sleazy gym bro with gelled hair and a smirk that you guess is permanently etched on his smug mouth. The overwhelming stench of Lynx Africa rolling off him in waves. You crinkle your nose at the offensive odour, reminding you of high school locker rooms and pubescent boys.

“I’m good, thanks,” you say, immediately turning back to your trolley, hoping to move on, even if you hadn’t got what you were looking for.

Deescalate.

You can almost hear John’s voice in your head as you feel the dude-bro shadowing your hasty retreat.

“Aw,” he groans, practically jogging to catch up to you, “Don’t be like that, what’s your hurry?”

“I’m here to shop, not get hit on by some dickhead with an ego,” you snap, letting your hormonal rage seep out as the guy just doesn’t take the hint.

“Woah, no need to be a bitch,” the fuck-head says with wild gesticulation of his hands, “You on the rag love?”

You’re about to snip back at him when your trolley collides with something solid. You groan and are about to spool up a profanity ridden apology when you hear a familiar growl.

“So what if she is?” John snarls as you look up to see his arms laden with what seems like every item on the list as he glowers at the douchebag at your elbow.

“Whatever man,” he scoffs at John as he holds his hands up in cocky compliance, “Have the bitter bitch.”

“You watch your mouth,” John says as he meticulously stacks the produce in the trolley, not once taking his stormy blue eyes off the other man, “Or we’re going to have a problem.”

“John,” you intercede, already over this whole dick waving competition, even if you do love it when he gets like this, “Let’s just get home, yeah?”

“Whatever you need,” he says as he finishes loading up the trolley. You finish the shop quickly, with John insisting he drives you home and gets you tucked up in bed as soon as possible.

It’s not until he takes off his hat while unloading the groceries that he realises he still had a bag of your favourite sweets stuck under his boonie hat. He makes a mental note to go back tomorrow and pay for them.

CoD Masterlist Grocery Shopping with Gaz Grocery Shopping with Ghost Grocery Shopping with Soap Grocery Shopping with König

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bisexualiteaa · 2 days

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Make-Up Sex

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Rough sex, riding, Cooper getting tied up, p in v, p0rn w/o plot, irradiated cream pie x2, mention of needles, cursing, established relationship, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from show

AN: I’m really enjoying writing for asks! Thank you to those who have submitted any, my ask box is always open so feel free to send in more! I will do my best to get to them as I can, and to the Anon who asked for this one, I hope I did your ask justice! Enjoy our favorite cowboy getting tied up and railed. Save a horse, ride a cowboy y’all. 🤠 apologies if it seems rushed, I wrote it at like 2am and post this on my way to work 😭

Synopsis: Cooper Howard is one stubborn man, and after a while of getting on your nerves, you finally find a way to make him apologize.

He had been getting on your nerves all day. First instance was when you two were out scavenging after finishing a bounty hunt, your supplies were running a bit low after being out for three whole days longer than you’d anticipated. You were getting ready to shoot one of the bandits that managed to get a stray bullet to graze your cheek when he killed them before you could even get a chance. You evil eyed him as he said “ain’t fun havin’ your kills stolen from ya, is it sweetheart?” He asked, making you roll your eyes and give a groan as you sifted through the raider’s pockets for anything useful. No such luck. A whole three bottle caps, and a plastic fork. So you drug your feet as you both carried on towards home.

Second instance was when you both were surprised by some radroaches and radscorpions after opening the door to what looked to be a vacant rest stop to get supplies from. A few wasted bits of ammo later, you make it inside and he made fun of your screams for a whole two hours. “Ain’t afraid of raiders, needles, nothin’ but bugs” he would say as he’d laugh so hard he’d go into a coughing fit while your face burned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he’d use his inhaler.

The third instance was where you drew the line. He was sifting through his bag trying to find his canteen of water after not finding shit at the rest stop. “Motherfucker” he said to himself, upon not being able to find it or anything really to have to drink. So instead of asking, he just went into your bag when you were busy trying to scavenge more bodies, took yours and drank it dry without telling you, and you had at least three more hours on foot until you made it back to the settlement. So when you went to go get a drink of water, the horror and plain rage on your face when you felt that it was empty was immeasurable. “How in the fuck is this thing empty? I JUST filled it yesterday!” You said, turning to look at Cooper as you both walked and the look on his face was all you needed as an answer. “You drank all o’ my water? What ‘n the hell happened to your canteen?” You asked, your southern drawl becoming more evident the angrier you got. “Must’ve forgot it” he said, making you look at him like he just spoke a whole different language. “You forgot it?” you asked, wondering how in the hell the deadliest motherfucker in this wasteland was traveling with you and just forgot his water. “Oh you gotta be shittin’ me….You know what, I don’t even wanna know how you managed that. We’re almost back to the settlement, I’ll refill it when we get there” you said angrily, moving ahead of him a little to prove that he’d pulled the last straw on your patience.

When you made it back to your settlement and back to the place you called home, you organized all the supplies you’d gotten, (which wasn’t much) putting them where they all were supposed to go, refilling canteens of water, and changing into more comfortable clothes as night began to fall. It was around dinner time that Cooper finally noticed that he really managed to piss you off.

You’d hardly ever given Cooper the cold shoulder in the time you two had been together, he was married before so he wasn’t ignorant to what being given the cold shoulder meant, but Cooper Howard was a stubborn man, one set in his ways so when he feels there’s no need to do something, he will not do it. “You gonna sit here ‘n ignore me all night?” He asked, and all you did was cross your arms in response, making him shake his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, but we’ll see how long that lasts, ya always come around somehow” he said arrogantly, only adding fuel to the fire and he knew it, it’s just how he was. He was an asshole, he was when you met him and apparently that charm never fully left. He was partly right however which is what you didn’t want to give him credit for. Even when you were really mad at him, you always came around at some point. His mouth got him into a lot of trouble, but it also managed to get him out of it too, his charisma and smooth talking always landing with some kisses to open you back up or make up sex to help you forget. You never were the kind of girl to let good dick sway you out of being mad but it was attached to a man that cared about you in ways no one else ever did, so you supposed he was at least a good exception. “You’ll come ‘round when that ache sets in, when you realize your dainty lil’ fingers can’t do anything close to what mine do to you” he said by your ear as he stood up from the dining room table, working you up and trying to get you to sleep with him to forget about your anger, but just as he was stubborn, you were just as set in your ways too. Though he knew it was a tough decision for you, you’d both gone a whole two weeks out there in the wastelands collecting caps from bounties and scavenging for supplies without any time or a means to sneak away and be with one another, so you were both pent up and he knew it. It was half the reason for your attitude to begin with, although you supposed he likely knew that too.

You got up from the chair in the kitchen a few minutes after he moved to the bedroom, getting ready for bed. You stopped him as he’d just taken his boots off, finally ready to be on speaking terms again but they were your terms. “Here’s how this is gon’ work. You, are gonna lay on that bed, and let me fuck you like I hate you because right now, I am doing everythin’ in my power not to hate you, and you ain’t been makin’ that an easy feat” you said, your eyes looking straight into his as if you were staring right into his soul, if he still even had one. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m just gonna let you get away with that, lil’ lady?” He asked in a condescending tone, making you chuckle. “Because I know damn well you’re as pent up as I am, so if you want any, and wanna get back into my good graces, this is how it’s gonna happen. And I will accept that as an apology for the shit you’ve done” you replied as you stepped closer, not caring that you had to look up at him when you spoke, the venom in your words was enough to prove the point you were trying to make. Your response making him huff a short, dry chuckle, impressed by how well you stood your ground, so he awaited your orders. “Now take your damn clothes off” you said, making him grin as he did as he was told, he could get used to you bossing him around like this. Your accent got a little thicker when you were mad, and the way you barked orders and told him what to do with a quip ready for whatever he had to say in response, he had to admit was a side of you he liked seeing more than he’d ever admit to. He shook his duster from his shoulders, then worked at his shirt as you pulled yours off and over your head, then moved to unclasp your bra and dispose of it on the floor, not caring where it went. Your eyes raked each other’s frame with almost visible tension as you stood a few feet apart from each other. Enough space to keep him from using his hands to get you to submit, but enough to also allow you to close the gap when you felt comfortable enough to. You both worked at undoing your pants, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until morning. “Get on the bed” you ordered, leaving the room to grab his rope from his saddlebag in the kitchen. When you returned, he noticed the item in your hands, giving you a wicked grin. “Gonna tie me up, sweetheart?” He asked in that condescending tone, making you chuckle as you tied his hands to the rungs of the bed frame nice and tight. Tight enough to keep him in place, not too tight to hurt too much, he was an asshole sure but he was still your asshole. “Sure am. Gonna need to earn the right back t’ touch me, and you ain’t earned it yet” you replied, straddling his lap as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. He gave a groan at the feel of you, watching as your hips moved against his to coat him in slick for when you’d line him up to your entrance. Key word there was when because you wanted to make this torturous. You moaned as you bucked your hips against him, his head bumping your clit as you used him for your own pleasure. “Think I could use you just like this. Mmm…make myself cum then leave you here achin’ for more” you threatened, running your hands along your figure and toying with your breast to tease him extra, hearing groans leave him each time your pussy would glide along his cock. “Now that ain’t very nice of you” he replied, making you grin. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout playin’ nice sugar. Still waitin’ for you to say you’re sorry” you responded, making him grunt as you continued to play with yourself and moan all sweetly. “I ain’t apologizin’, no need to” he said, making you click your tongue. “A shame, looks like you ain’t cummin’ tonight then” you said, continuing your movements as you got closer and closer to letting that knot snap inside you. He wanted- no he *needed* to feel your gummy walls wrapped around his cock, so the fact that you were using it in a way that couldn’t afford him that, was already working his nerves.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I’m givin’ you? Should be thankful I’m even touchin’ you with how mad you made me” you said, going a little quicker now with your movements so he tried focusing on that, focusing on the way your clit would bump that spot right under his tip over and over. So when you came from grinding against it rather than seating on it and *ruined*that chance of still getting to finish, he gave a disgruntled grunt.

“Aww what’s the matter? Did I stop somethin’?” You asked in a deeper, condescending tone that had his dick throbbing in need. He’d never seen this evil of a side of you before, but you had only just started. “Whatchya want Cooper? Go ‘head, tell me” you said, making him grunt. “Want you t’ shut up and ride me already” he said, making you chuckle before landing a harsh slap across his face, the sound of your hand meeting his cheek rang through the room. “You ain’t in the position to be givin’ orders sugar. I thought you had manners” you said as he turned and looked back at you, astonished one by the power behind that smack and two, by the tone you were getting with him. “I’ll ask you one more time, what’dya want me to do to you, hmm?” You asked, and knowing now what power you had behind just one of those smaller hands of yours, he relented. “Ride me, please” he grunted, making you smile and lay a soft kiss to his cheek to try and soothe where you slapped him. “See? Not so bad now is it? Now if ya just apologize, I’ll take some RadAway and let you cum” you said, and judging by the look on his face, you could say that wasn’t going to happen. “Fuck you” he spat, making you chuckle. “Oh I am gonna fuck you, don’t you worry” you said as you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down on him inch by torturous inch. You were having way too much fun with this, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t have his way for a change. His hips involuntarily bucked up to try and shove more of himself into your tight cunt, but you moved to where it wouldn’t happen, making him grip the bed frame where he was tied to. “Someone’s gettin’ antsy, best keep them hips steady if you want this to continue” you said, making him growl under his breath before giving a groan once you were fully seated on him. You gave a moan as his tip nudged the apex to your cervix, moving your hips back and forth to where you would get off, but not do much for him. He gave you an angry look that made you laugh. “What’s the matter honey? Ya asked me to ride you already, it’s what I’m doin’” you said, making him grit his teeth as he did his best to hold his bearings. “But I guess you were good and didn’t move after I warned you so I’ll throw a bone atchya” you said, moving up and down on him, earning a groan from him once more that mingled with the moans falling from your lips. “Fuck…” he breathed, making you chuckle and smirk in that bratty way that he wanted to fuck off your face already, but he couldn’t. Despite his expressions and reactions, he was enjoying this too much but he couldn’t let you know that.

“Mmm, Cooper…” you moaned sweetly as you bounced on his cock, his name sounded heavenly when it fell from your lips, he could hardly get enough of it. He watched as your tits bounced up and down with your movements, the way your thighs jiggled as you moved, god how he wanted to grip them so bad right now. To hold you down and buck up into you until your eyes were rolling back in your head and you were screaming, but this was your show to run. You picked up the pace a little bit, going faster and angling where his tip would brush against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. He felt the way your walls started to close around him, sucking him in each time you’d come down, and fluttering around him. You were close. You were so caught up in chasing that feeling that you almost missed what he said. “Fuck- ‘m sorry” he spoke softly, finally apologizing to you. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard ya there” you said, making him grunt. He should have known that you would milk the shit out of this. “I said I was- fuck- sorry” he repeated, making you hum but it wasn’t enough, not yet. So you stopped. “Sorry for what?” You asked, and he didn’t seem very happy at the fact that you stopped moving all together when he was so close to cumming yet again. “Dammit, wadn’t sayin’ sorry enough? I fuckin’ apologized like you wanted” he snapped, making you slap him across his cheek once more, this one stinging a bit more because it landed in the exact same spot as the last one. Though the tingling sensation of pain never lasted very long, it was enough to make his dick throb while inside of you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. “Lose the attitude before I hop off and take care of myself then leave you tied up here all night” you said, making him huff in response. “Fine” he replied gruffly through gritted teeth. “Good, now I wanna hear you say it. What are you sorry for?” You asked as you started your pace back up, making him groan again as your hips and ass slapped down against him harshly. “Sorry f’ bein’ an asshole” he grunted out. “And?” You asked, needing just a little bit more before you were satisfied. “And f’ makin’ you mad” he finished, and you were content with that. “Happy?” He asked, making you hum and pretend to contemplate if you were for a minute before finally answering. “Yeah, I’ll take that” you said, placing your hands on his chest as you bounced up and down on him once more, earning a relieved sigh from him. “Just like that sweetheart, fuck…” he groaned before you leaned down, pulling him into the first kiss you’ve shared in a day and a half. You moaned into it as you started to near your peak, finally able to chase it after all the time spent putting it off to deal with his attitude. “Gonna cum- Cooper…!” you moaned into the crook of his neck and that was his undoing. You hid your face into his neck as your walls squeezed him tight, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook as his hips bucked up into you, trying to work the both of you through your high as he pumped you full.

What he wasn’t expecting was you to keep moving, earning an almost pained groan from him as you ground yourself against him. “I never gave you permission to cum inside me” you stated, apparently he wasn’t out of the dog house just yet. He was plotting how he would get you back for this on another day, how he’d wreck you and make you remember just who it is you’re doing this to. You smirked as you had the wonderful idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Perk about it bein’ a minute? I can go all night” you teased as you set that steady pace once more, needing more, needing to feel him after being so long without. His hands gripped the bed posts, white knuckled as he hissed through his teeth from the overstimulation. “You are one evil woman, ya know that?” He asked playfully, making you chuckle. “Don’t act like you don’t fuckin’ love it” you replied, and he certainly couldn’t argue with you there, not when it felt this good. “You can give me one more, can’t you sweetie?” You asked in a sickly sweet tone, using the same line he’d always use on you anytime he’d overstimulate the hell out of you just to see the faces you make and hear your moans. He recognized that line, making him grunt and groan as you moved your hips. “Fuck…” was all he could get out, mind foggy of any thoughts, just how good your walls felt as they massaged his dick. Maybe he should piss you off more often. “Look at those pretty faces, you like this, don’t you?” you asked, making him damn near whimper at your tone and he never does that shit. You gave an evil laugh at the pathetic sound. “Oh you sweet thing, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you” you said, leaning down and biting into his shoulder as you picked up the pace a little bit, earning a lewd groan from him. You laved your tongue over the spot, watching it heal instantly before sitting back up, fully seating yourself on him. You reached behind you to cup and fondle his balls, moving your hips back and forth to grind your clit against him to both work you to your end. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I can tell you’re almost there” you said, making him tilt his head back at all the feelings you were giving him, it was too much yet not enough all at once and it was torture. Your free hand came to his cheeks, pulling his head down to face you. “Eyes on me” you ordered, and his eyes looked into yours for a moment before flitting down to where your bodies were connected, giving a groan when he’d see himself disappear and reappear slightly and the way his cum was sticking to your thighs and his lower stomach. “Cooper…” you moaned softly once more, that was almost always your sign, the way you’d sigh his name so deliciously paired with your walls milking him for everything he could give you drove him mad. “Cum with me honey” you pleaded, and felt as his hips bucked up into you three or four times before you both were sent over the edge once more, a cacophony of moans slipping from both of you as he spilled inside of you and you came on his cock.

After laying there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful after glow of your orgasms, you sat up, accidentally seating yourself fully on his dick again and he gave a pained groan. “Not again…” he whined, making you laugh as your hands came to the rope binding his wrists. “Relax, I’m just undoin’ ya. I’m mean, but not that mean” you said through giggles. “You okay though? I know I was really rough but I didn’t go too far…did I?” You asked skiddishly, a complete 180 of the attitude you had just moments ago and it made him laugh. “Wasn’t expectin’ it outta you sweetheart but I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I’m alright, you did good” he assured, making you relieved as you laid on top of him, littering his lips, cheeks, neck, shoulder, and chest with kisses as his hands rested on your back and hips. “I love you Coop. Even when ya piss me off, you’re still the only person in this god forsaken wasteland I could ever see myself with” you spoke, making him chuckle. “I love you too, sweetheart. ‘m sorry for makin’ you upset, wasn’t right. But I’d say you did a damn good job of puttin’ me in my place” he said, making you giggle. “No hard feelings?” You asked, looking at him with eyes that held so much worry for one person, eyes that held so much care. His hand came to the back of your head, pulling you into a loving kiss. “Never” he said into it, pressing his forehead against yours after you both parted for air. You gave a contented hum, happy for things to be all right again. “Remind me to piss you off more often, you got a good swing on ya” he said, breaking the peaceful silence with a grin, making you laugh. “Please don’t, I like moments like this so much more. I hate bein’ mad at you, love you too much” you replied, making him kiss the top of your head, wondering what he ever did to deserve someone like you.

“C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up and get some RadAway in ya, don’t wanna ruin that perfect skin just yet” he said, making you giggle once more but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved you off from his softened dick, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning you both up as he got the IV started. He kissed your head once more, holding your hand like he always did as you got the needle in, got it all hooked up and a good flow going, coming back to sling his arm around you and hold you to him. Between the warmth of his body and the comfort of the bed, you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, a soft smile resting on your lips as you fell asleep peacefully against him. You always felt safe when you were with him, no matter where you were, and he’d always protect you no matter what. And that, is what love in post apocalypse looked like, he swore it.

#fallout smut #fallout #fallout x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul

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emphistic · 3 days

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Em, lovely Em, how are you? Let me tell you I'm super proud of your progress so far <3

Soooo I'm here with a little proposition, two options for you to choose from...

1. (Low key) Princess treatment

2. Late night drive

With who else than the love of our lives SUKUNA RYOMEN!

-With love starlet★

A/N: hi hi hi, starlet, i am doing pretty good actually except for the new crack in my phone screen, but thanks for asking! and i really appreciate that — hard choice, but i choose option 2

The wind rushed through the open windows and pervaded the car. Your hair blew and billowed. And Sukuna watched you through the mirror as the moonlight fell upon your face, gracing your already blessed features, and goddamn, Sukuna thought you looked absolutely ethereal in the night.

The music blasted from the car’s built-in speakers, but he had already stopped listening an hour ago, more focused on staring at you.

“You cold?” Sukuna asked, in that deep, raspy voice of his — that you had grown accustomed to after these last few weeks.

“Mhm. Just a little,” you nodded, leaning onto the head rest behind you and turning around to face the man himself. Sukuna laced his fingers through yours on the console between the both of you, a warmth fluttering in your stomach in an instant.

This whole arrangement between the two of you. . . It all happened like a blur. You guys had met through a mutual friend at a college party and had hit it off ever since. What started as innocent tutoring sessions turned to friendly hangouts. Consequently, those turned to dates, and those dates led to now: present time — where you two were in relationship. A secret one, at that.

The mutual friend was Itadori Yuuji. Let me rephrase that, he’s your friend. But not Sukuna’s, because, well, they’re brothers, actually.

You didn’t mean to hide this whole thing from Yuuji, you just didn’t know how he’d react if he found out. Would he think you two were going behind his back? Would he accuse you of using him to get with his brother? You weren’t, and you never would try to get between the Itadori brothers. It’s just . . . you felt guilty about this whole relationship thingy. You loved Sukuna, you really did. And you loved Yuuji, as a friend, of course. But, you didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings or any problems, so you and Sukuna came to an agreement about keeping this under wraps.

However, unlike you, Sukuna couldn't care less if his younger brother found out about the both of you. But choosing to respect your wishes — like the good boyfriend he was, he would keep things low key, just for you.

So, late night drives like these were one of the only opportunities the two of you had to have time to yourselves, without having to worry about any younger brother finding out.

Sukuna pulled up into an empty parking lot; you guys usually drove around for an hour or two, listening to music, before parking the car and chatting to your hearts’ desire.

“So. How was your day, baby? Anyone bother you? You don’t look too happy. Do I need to kick somebody’s ass for ya?” Sukuna turned to face you, but like always, you shied away and avoided his gaze.

“Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.” Sukuna hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes.

“That’s better. Keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”

You complied, though your eyes flickered between each of his, contrary to his unwavering stare.

“My day was fine. I just . . . I’ve been thinking about your brother: Yuuji, and—”

Sukuna rolled his eyes; you paused. “You’re seriously thinking about another man right now? Even when I just asked you how you were doing? Can’t believe this shit.” Sukuna scoffed, though you knew he was only joking. Or so you hoped. . .

You cheekily giggled. “C’mon, ‘Kuna. Don’t be that way.” You cupped the side of his face with your free hand; he leaned into your palm, placing a tender kiss upon it.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to continue what we’re doing . . . together.”

At this, Sukuna lifted his face away from your palm, his hooded eyes staring back at yours, waiting for you to explain yourself.

“Fuck you mean this isn’t a good idea?”

“I—how would Yuuji feel if he found out? If we told him now, he would probably ask why we didn’t tell him earlier. And then what would we say? That we didn’t even plan on getting into a relationship in the first place? And we were just friends with benefits?”

“Do you want to tell him?” Sukuna pursued.

“I . . . don’t know. I mean, we were just fucking around earlier. And then we got exclusive. And . . . I thought you weren’t really looking for an actual relationship. As boyfriend and girlfriend, I mean.”

“That’s complete bull. Don’t let me catch you saying that crap ever again.” Sukuna grabbed your face in his hand when your eyes started to drift elsewhere. “You’re the only girl I would ever even think about dating. You hear me? So get that shit out of your pretty little head.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Okay.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear. Anywho, go on. Tell me about your day. I’ve been longing to hear your voice ever since I started my shift.”

“Oh, please.”

“Deadass.”

You started to talk about your classes, your annoying professors and their annoying assignments, your lunch that took ten minutes to arrive at your door, you told Sukuna everything. Well, you were planning on that. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure start to approach the car. Though they were still a long distance away — fortunately — they were getting closer, and Sukuna didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy listening to you speak your heart and mind.

Your eyes widened, and you shook Sukuna’s arm, as if to get his attention. Which, in that case, did nothing, really, because his undivided attention was already on you, but maybe you forgot. Silly you.

“Babe—babe, I think there’s someone in the parking lot.”

“No shit.” Sukuna let out a laugh.

“No, like, besides us. I think they’re getting closer to the car.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, assuming your eyes were just playing a trick on you, but then he saw it. He saw what you were talking about.

There was indeed a person — a man? Perhaps so. And they were quickly approaching the vehicle. In the light of the posts, it could be detected that he was wearing nothing other than black and dark colored articles of clothing.

What the hell?

All the shops and restaurants in this area were closed, save for the 7-Eleven, but that wasn’t as relevant. There were no cops or cop cars, nothing, so who was this person? And what did they want?

“Kiss me.”

“What the what? Are you okay?”

“Damnit, always making me have to do everything these days.” Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together in the process, and messily slotted his lips against yours.

Your lipgloss smeared across his mouth and even added a little shine to it, but neither of you paid attention to that.

And albeit a little surprised at first, you melted in Sukuna’s hands and kissed back sooner or later. You guys moved against each other like rabid animals in heat, well—Sukuna did, you were a little more civilized than the pink-haired man. Which wasn’t a new thing.

But could you really blame Sukuna? When he tasted you against his lips, he nearly went feral right then and there. You were as sweet as the day you guys first indulged in something like this together. The real reason he started calling you ‘sweet thing’ in the first place.

While trying to catch your breath, you murmured against his lips, not yet pulling away, “Is he—is he gone now?”

You felt Sukuna smile against your lips, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.

“Been. Been gone, sweetheart. For probably a few minutes now. Coward turned into a straight pussy. I saw his face; he looked ‘bout ready to piss himself when I shoved my tongue in.”

You pulled away — emitting a disappointed groan from the man — to fix your messy hair and overall disheveled appearance altogether, before moving to wipe the remnants of lipgloss off Sukuna’s face. He, in turn, only pushed back his hair, not really caring about how he looked on the outside.

Let people know, let people know he just made out with his favorite girl. If he really felt like it, he would even make a full PSA for the world to see.

“So. . . You still want to stop this thing between us?”

“Oh, shut up.” You delivered a light slap to his arm, before attempting to stifle your growing grin.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

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tayytayy12 · 3 days

Text

Off to the races | CS55 x Reader

Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.

Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really

Requested - No - Yes

Type - Written

Not been proofread

You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.

He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.

Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.

He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.

You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.

You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.

You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.

“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.

You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.

You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”

“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.

“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”

You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”

You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”

He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”

You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.

“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”

You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.

He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.

—————

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garfunklefield · 2 days

Note

Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

Red Ink

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.

Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3

If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!

Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun.

All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like …

Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate.

Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.

A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”

“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could.

She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.

“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it.

“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”

Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up.

She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”

She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.

“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”

Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job.

You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold.

The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you.

You were never going to change until that day.

There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it.

She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.”

“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow.

The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle.

It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.

The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.

“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.

The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.

Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.

You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment.

“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.

“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both.

He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying.

You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity.

Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”

You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself.

As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind.

The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat.

Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek.

His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more.

Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords.

Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out.

After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?

That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it.

One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed.

It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands.

This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.

You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded.

“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses.

It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.

In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it.

You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings.

“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body.

“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt?

It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”

You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”

Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you…

“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived?

“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!!

“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.

“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.”

Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples.

“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.

“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front.

“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust.

“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist.

“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.

“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts.

You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.

Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you.

You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.

“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.

“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds.

You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use.

It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick.

The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck.

Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.

You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?

“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon.

There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around.

The possession he was growing to… love.

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 days

Note

When will you post the y/n Meeks Martin x Ethan Landry post 😭

Right fucking now lmao.

This is my first post in a while, take it easy on me 💕

Secrets - Ethan Landry x Fem!Meeks-Martin!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Growing up with overprotective siblings has made it difficult for you to find someone to be with, until you meet your brother's nerdy best friend.

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Some violence-ish, Oral - f receiving, riding, p in v, teasing. (If I missed something, let me know:)

A/N: If any of yall are familiar with Spongebob, I have the fucking suds and I'll be writing a lot the next few days lmao

Your brother and sister were so protective of you. After some of the things they’d been through, you couldn’t really blame them, and you were thankful that they were always looking out for you. The only downside? They seemed to hate every person that asked you out or showed interest in you. You were sure that you would be single forever if it was up to them, because they didn’t think anyone was good enough for you.

Once they went away to New York for school, you missed them, but with there only being a one-year age difference, you knew you wouldn’t have to wait long before you’d be heading to Blackmore. You took the opportunity to finally put yourself out there and go on dates without the twins interfering, and you were starting to realize how right they were when they told you that the guys in Woodsboro weren’t really worth your time.

When you FaceTimed Chad to let him know that you got accepted into the same university as him and Mindy, he was beaming at the news. He was going on and on about all the things he loved about New York, and wouldn’t shut up about the pizza, but you tuned out everything he was saying once you noticed his roommate in the background. His hot roommate.

“Dude, my sister got in!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes. He seemed more excited than you were about the whole situation. “Ethan, come say hi.”

“Fine,” he huffed, as Chad passed him his phone. He paused for a second once he saw you, but quickly pulled it together. It was awkward enough to meet someone for the first time on a phone screen, and he didn’t want to make it any weirder. “Hey, I’m Ethan.”

“Ah, the dorky roommate,” you said, as Ethan looked away from you to glare at Chad.

“Is that how you tell people about me? You say that I’m dorky?”

“If the shoe fits…” Chad trailed off before he tried to take his phone back from Ethan.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said, passing the phone back to your brother.

“Have you told Mindy yet?” Chad questioned, a smirk on his face as he waited for your answer.

“No…”

“I knew I was your favorite!”

Once Chad and Mindy came home for summer break, they wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to take you back to New York with them. They were heading back early to help Chad move into his own apartment with Ethan, and Mindy was moving into the spare bedroom at Tara’s with Anika. They decided that you needed to come with them, even though you wouldn’t be able to move into your dorm for a couple weeks.

“I’m not thrilled about couch surfing,” you said, as Chad rolled his eyes.

“I’d sleep on the couch. You could sleep in my bed.”

“So, she’s staying with you for two weeks? I thought she’d stay at Tara’s,” Mindy said, “What happens when you want to stay over with Tara and she’s left alone with Ethan?”

“Oh, please. Ethan won’t try anything,” Chad said, as Mindy scoffed. “What?”

“What makes you think Ethan wouldn’t try something?”

“Because he’s my boy. He knows she’s off limits…I already told him,” Chad said, as you sighed in frustration.

“You know what? I’m not doing this whole ‘You can’t date so and so’ shit that I’ve dealt with for years,” you said, as Mindy cocked her eyebrow at you.

“You’re staying at Tara’s,” she said, “You’ve gotten a little feisty lately. It wouldn’t surprise me if you tried to get with Ethan just because we said you can’t.”

“No, I’m staying with Chad. It’ll be fine. Ethan doesn’t seem like the type to try anything,” you said, as she had a confused look on her face.

“When have you talked to Ethan?”

“Oh, that was when she called me first to let me know she got into Blackmore,” Chad smirked, as Mindy snapped her head in his direction.

“No, she called me first.”

They turned to look at you, “Who did you call first?” they both asked at the same time, as you shrugged.

“I’ll never tell.”

When you made it to New York, you were exhausted. You couldn’t sleep on the five-hour flight, and the jet lag was really starting to get to you as you went to the baggage claim area to get your stuff.

“When’s your furniture getting delivered?” Mindy asked, as Chad checked his phone.

“Soon. Ethan’s here somewhere,” Chad said, glancing around for his friend that was taking you back to your new home for the next two weeks.

“I think that’s him,” you said, pointing to the guy with the huge sign that said ‘Meeks-Martin’. “Is he always that lame?”

“Yeah, poor dude can’t get a girlfriend to save his life because he’s that cheesy,” Chad said, as he walked over and took the sign from him. “We’re just going to put this in the trash.”

“Hey, it took me two minutes to make that,” Ethan said, as he glanced over to you. He noticed you struggling with your luggage and carryon. “Can I help you with that?”

“I got it,” Mindy said, grabbing the large suitcase from you. She stared Ethan down for a second before she walked past him.

“How do you deal with them?” Ethan asked, as you sleepily smiled at him.

“They’re not that bad.”

As Ethan drove, Mindy was in the backseat arguing with Chad as he sat in the passenger seat about how you staying at Tara’s would be best. You sighed as they bickered, before you noticed that Ethan kept glancing back at you in the rear-view mirror. You thought he was even more attractive in person and thought about how hard the next couple weeks could potentially be with him living in the same apartment as you.

“Seriously, how are you going to feel when those losers leave the toilet seat up all the time?” Mindy questioned, as Chad scoffed.

“I think we’re housebroken,” Ethan spoke up for the first time in the drive as he glanced back at Mindy. He quickly looked away once he noticed her glaring at him.

“Listen, Landry. I know I won’t be able to convince her, so I want to make it perfectly clear that if you touch my sister, I will kill you.”

“What makes you guys think that I’m like that?” Ethan asked, the annoyance in his tone obvious.

“They think anyone’s like that when it comes to me,” you said, smiling at him as his eyes met yours in the mirror again.

You made it to Chad and Ethan’s apartment seconds after the furniture delivery truck pulled in. Once they opened the back of the truck, Mindy’s jaw dropped.

“I can’t believe mom paid for all this stuff,” she said, as Chad sighed.

“She didn’t. Ethan and I took out loans.”

“Maybe you should’ve asked mom. She paid for all my bedroom stuff,” Mindy shrugged, as Chad sighed.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

After the stuff for the apartment was scattered in various areas of the house, Mindy got the text that Anika was at Tara’s, and was wondering when she’d be over.

“You staying here, or coming with me?” Mindy asked but cut you off before you could even respond. “You’re coming with me.”

“No, she can hang out here if she wants to. We’re all going out for pizza later tonight, anyway,” Chad said, as Mindy rolled her eyes.

“Are you two going to argue like this until I move into my dorm?” you questioned, as the twins exchanged their glances.

“Probably.”

“I’ll hang out here,” you said, as Mindy nodded.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Later that evening after you’d helped the two boys set up their new apartment, you were starting to get hungry. Chad wanted to keep working, and you eventually flopped onto the couch, sighing in defeat.

“I’m starving,” you whined, as Ethan walked into the living room and sat down on the free cushion beside where your feet were resting.

“Me too,” Ethan said, matching your whining as Chad glared at the two of you. “What? It’s been a long day. We skipped lunch.”

“We’ll leave soon,” Chad said, as you got an idea in your head.

“Orrr you could meet us there,” you suggested. “You know how I get if I don’t eat.”

“True,” Chad sighed, “Ethan, make sure nothing happens to her.”

“I won’t let her out of my sight.”

As you walked beside Ethan, he started to make small talk. By the time you made it to the restaurant, you were in a full-blown conversation about all the interests you both had, and he was proud of himself that he didn’t get nervous when he talked to you. You scanned the restaurant for your sister and Tara, but once you noticed they weren’t there yet, you and Ethan sat at one of the tables.

“Do you want to eat now, or wait?” he asked, looking at you from across the table.

“We can eat now, I’m so hungry.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

While you and Ethan ate the pizza that Chad hyped up so much, you were surprised at how good it was. You kept talking to Ethan, but you soon realized how much time had passed, and no one else had showed up to the restaurant.

“Where do you think they are?” you asked, as Ethan sighed.

“Okay, don’t hate me,” he said, as you curiously stared at him. “I kind of wanted to get to know you without your brother and sister making it seem like I was trying to get into your pants.”

“That’s really sweet,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “But if they aren’t here, where are they?”

“They probably went to the one on campus.”

“Did you trick me into going to dinner with you?” you joked, as he started to blush.

“I’ll be honest, I thought they would’ve come to hunt you down by now.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Chad, Mindy, Tara, and who you assumed to be Anika walked in. Chad sighed in relief once he saw you, but Mindy just looked pissed.

“You know how many pizzerias we stopped at to look for you?” she questioned before she looked at Ethan. “Why did you bring her to this one?”

“Simple mistake,” he shrugged, as Mindy stared him down.

“Simple mistake, my ass. I told you Ethan would try something with her.”

“It’s just pizza!” you snapped, “Last time I checked, we weren’t fucking.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped at your words as the waitress brought the check to the table. Ethan took it from her, his mouth still hanging open as he looked at you.

“You want to split it?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“I got it.”

“We’re going back to Tara’s,” Chad said, as you stood up from the table to hug her.

“Hey,” you said, before you turned to Anika. “It’s nice to meet you. Mindy wouldn’t shut up about you all summer.”

“Aww, babe,” she said, pulling Mindy into a side hug.

“Look, as much as I’d love to hang out with you guys, I’m exhausted,” you said, yawning as Chad sighed.

“I really wanted to hang out with Tara.”

“I’ll walk her home,” Ethan suggested, as Mindy, once again, glared at him. “I can drop her off and go to Tara’s after.”

“No, I don’t want her left alone in an area that she doesn’t know,” Chad said, as you rolled your eyes.

“I can stay there with her, then. Seriously, I won’t try anything,” Ethan said, putting his hands up in defeat as Chad nodded.

“I know you won’t, dude. Thanks.”

As you and Ethan made your way out of the restaurant, you heard Mindy scold Chad for being so trusting. But Chad felt like he had no reason to think Ethan would do anything to betray his trust.

Once you got back to the apartment, you were tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. Ethan was about to head to his room before you stopped him.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I thought you were exhausted?” he asked, as he turned around and made his way towards you.

“I just didn’t feel like going with them and being there all night,” you sighed, as he sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Why are you sitting over there?”

“Because if Chad comes home and sees me sitting beside you, I’m sure I’ll be moving out of here into an unmarked grave,” he said, half-joking as you rolled your eyes.

“Please. If it was Mindy, yeah. But Chad, I don’t think so.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, scooting closer to you as he turned on the tv. “You cool with something scary?”

“Mindy’s my sister, what do you think?”

“Scary it is.”

Ethan thought that after sitting through some of the goriest movies ever with the Twins, there was no way that you’d be freaking out over some jump scares. But once you were practically in his lap, your face hiding behind your hands as the scene played out on the screen, he started to laugh to himself.

“What?” you asked, looking up at him. That’s when you realized that you were practically on top of him and went to move, but his arm wrapped around you to hold you in place.

“Your brother and sister don’t get phased by this shit,” he said, smiling down at you. He started to glance between your eyes and your lips, and he was so close to making a move, when a loud shriek on the screen pulled your attention away from him.

“This is one of the few I haven’t seen,” you shrugged, “I wouldn’t be so jumpy if you picked something I had seen before.”

“I don’t think I believe you,” Ethan chuckled, as you turned your head to look at him again.

“If you want to kiss me, you should probably do it soon. The movie’s almost over,” you said, as he smiled and leaned down.

When his lips touched yours, you felt something different than what you’d usually feel when you’d kiss someone. You immediately felt the chemistry, and with the way his lips were quickly moving with yours, you were sure that he felt it, too.

Once he pulled away to catch his breath, he had a sweet smile on his lips. He definitely didn’t expect to kiss his best friend’s sister, but he was happy that you were bold enough to tell him it was okay. Another thing he didn’t expect was for you to adjust yourself so you were straddling him, as his eyes looked into yours. His hands moved to rest on your thighs as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, it was way more intense. Your hands were in his hair as his hands rested on the curve of your ass to keep you as close as he could.

The second the kiss got deeper, you heard the sound of a key going into the front door.

“Shit,” you said, pulling away and jumping off the couch.

“Wait,” Ethan said, as he followed you. He pulled you in for one more quick kiss before you rushed into Chad’s room and shut the door.

When Ethan walked back out, Chad had just made it to the living room.

“Where were you?” Chad questioned, as Ethan glared at him.

“My room is beside yours. I wasn’t trying anything with your sleeping sister,” Ethan scoffed, as Chad nodded.

“Sorry, dude. I had to listen to Mindy talk about how much she hated the idea of the two of you being here alone.”

“It’s cool, just don’t accuse me of shit you know I wouldn’t do.”

Ethan felt a little guilty for lying to Chad, but you were the first girl that he’d actually felt something for in a long time. After days of stealing quick kisses and steamy make-out sessions whenever Chad was in the shower, the sexual frustration was starting to build. Ethan knew that he wasn’t going to initiate it, because the last thing he wanted was for you to think that was the reason he was spending time with you. Plus, you hadn’t been left alone long enough since the first night.

“So, I think Tara and I are going to a movie tonight. You guys want to come?” Chad asked, as Ethan looked over to you as you sat on the opposite end of the couch.

“I’m not really in the mood to watch a movie,” you said, as Chad cocked his eyebrow at you.

“You don’t want to watch a movie?” he questioned, as you shook your head. “What about you, Ethan?”

“Dude, spend time with your girlfriend. I’m sure she doesn’t want a third wheel tagging along.”

“Mindy and Anika are going, too. You wouldn’t be a third wheel,” Chad said, as Ethan chuckled.

“Your right, I’d be a fifth wheel. You guys have fun. I’ll probably just play video games all night anyway.”

“Okay, I should be back around eleven,” Chad said, as he made his way towards the apartment door.

As soon as he left, Ethan was on you, literally. You moved so you were laying back as he hovered over you, his mouth moving with yours as your legs wrapped around him.

“Hey, do you want to go to your room?” you asked once he pulled away to breathe.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Within seconds, his feet met the floor, and his hands reached for yours to pull you up. He led you down the hallway to his room, before his lips connected with yours again. He backed you towards the bed, a small squeal slipping past your lips against his as your back hit the comforter. Your legs wrapped around him again, holding him as close to you as you could. One of his hands was running up your side over your shirt, until the material started to ride up. He gave you goosebumps as his fingers moved over the newly exposed flesh, before he pulled away to look at you.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, “Because if you just want to make out, that’s fine. There’s no pressure, and I don’t want you to think that I just want sex.”

”I know you don’t,” you said, smiling at him. “But if the sexual tension get’s any stronger between us and we don’t do something about it, I might actually explode.”

“So, you want sex,” he said, trying his best to not freak out.

“Yeah,” you said, as he leaned back down.

It didn’t take long for his hips to start moving, the hard cock in his sweatpants brushing against you. You gasped into the kiss every time your clit got the smallest amount of friction, before his hand moved in between your bodies so he could rub you over the shorts you were wearing.

“Fuck,” you mumbled against his lips. “You can take those off me, if you want.”

He quickly slid them down your hips before his hand went back in between your legs, rubbing across your soaked panties.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, “Does kissing me do this to you?”

“Yes,” you said, as his lips moved to your neck.

Your bottom lip was in between your teeth as he slid your panties to the side, his finger rubbing slow circles over your clit.

“We’re here alone, baby. Don’t hold those pretty sounds in.”

Soft whimpers were slipping past your lips as his finger moved faster against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your pussy was already drenched, and you felt yourself getting more wet by the second. You whined in protest once he pulled away, but he quickly shut you up, a low moan falling out of your mouth when he easily slid two of his fingers inside you as he moved down the bed.

Your hands tangled in his hair the second his tongue touched your clit, his fingers hitting that special spot inside you. Your hips were involuntarily arching off the bed at the feeling as he struggled to keep you pinned down.

“So good,” you moaned, as he sucked your clit into his mouth. “Fuck.”

Once he started to hum with your clit in his mouth, you felt the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Your moans kept getting higher and louder, and he made the mental note that he really couldn’t sneak around with you like this if Chad happened to be home, because you were just so loud. He loved it, though. All the noised you were making went straight to his throbbing cock as he brought you closer to the edge. Once your pussy started to squeeze his fingers, he sucked harder on your clit, the feeling throwing you into an intense orgasm. He groaned as your shaky hands tugged on his hair, his fingers slowing as he got you through it.

Once you started to relax, he sat up to look at you as he slowly slid his fingers out. Your cheeks were rosy, your chest was heaving, and you were still a little shaky. He loved that he had that effect on you and couldn’t wait to actually be inside of you.

“Let me help you with your shirt,” he said, as you sat up and looked at him, your eyes still hazy.

“That felt so good,” you finally said, as he chuckled.

“I hope so with how hard you were pulling my hair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly as he shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, I loved it.”

Once he got you out of your shirt and bra, and he slid his sweatpants down his hips, he walked over to the bedside table to grab a condom.

“You still want to do this, right?” he asked, as you smiled at him.

“Yeah.”

He slid his boxers down his thighs before he rolled the condom on and lined up with your soaked pussy. He took his time as he inched his way inside of you, a loud moan falling past your lips once he was all the way in.

“So fucking tight,” he rushed out, before he started with slow thrusts. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you moaned, your hands reaching up to squeeze your breasts as he started to go faster.

You knew you were wet, but you could hear how wet you actually were as his cock slid in and out of your pussy. His eyes stayed on you. He didn’t want to miss any of the faces you were making.

“Can I be on top?” you asked, as he smirked at you.

“Yeah, babe,” he said, as he pulled out and laid down.

You got up and moved to straddle him, the whimpers flooding out of your mouth as you sank down onto him.

Ethan felt like he was in heaven as his hands held onto your hips. He had the perfect view of your face, your tits, and he could even see his cock sliding in and out of you. Your hands moved to rest against his chest so you could stabilize yourself as you rolled your hips, the tip of his cock giving your g-spot the attention it needed.

“Come here,” he said, as you leaned down, your bare chest pressing against his. You felt his hands snake around you to hold you close before his hips started to move, his cock thrusting in and out of you so quick that you couldn’t think straight. He was letting out soft grunts that could barely be heard over your moans. You were both getting sweaty as you clung to him, his pace not letting up as you felt yourself start to get close.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whined, as you felt that white-hot feeling spreading across your body, your hands gripping him as he just kept fucking up into you.

“I’m almost there, baby.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but he went even faster. You were a moaning mess as he kept slamming his cock into you, before his thrusts got erratic.

“Cumming,” he groaned, as you slowly moved back to meet his thrusts as he got himself through it. “Fuck, that was…fuck.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled against his chest.

He slid out of you but held you close for a few minutes, his hands rubbing over your back as you both caught your breath.

That’s when you heard other voices inside the apartment. You shot up, your eyes looking down to meet Ethan’s panicked ones.

“Where are they?” Mindy asked, the annoyance in her tone obvious as you and Ethan jumped up to grab your clothes off the floor.

Ethan quickly took the condom off and slid his boxers on as you tried to put your clothes back on. It was too late, though, once his bedroom door eased open.

“Hey, dude,” Chad said, before closing the door once he noticed Ethan was just in his boxers. “Shit, sorry.”

Chad was embarrassed as he turned to look at Mindy before he realized something. Your shorts were on Ethan’s bedroom floor.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Chad’s voice boomed once he opened the door. This time he was able to see you, but you’d just slid your shorts back up over your hips. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He walked over to Ethan and grabbed him by the shirt he was able to put on in those few seconds, and you could see the fear in Ethan’s eyes as he looked over to you.

“Don’t fucking look at her!” Chad yelled, as Mindy finally walked into the room.

“Told you her staying here was a mistake,” she said, as Chad got angrier by the second.

“I didn’t think that my best friend couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Stop, seriously. You guys are making this more than it needs to be,” you said, as Chad looked over to you. “Calm down, Chad. He’s your best friend.”

“Last time I checked, friends don’t sleep with their friend’s sister!” he yelled, before he looked back at Ethan. “I can’t fucking believe you did this.”

“Why are you acting like I had no part in this?” you asked, as Mindy scoffed.

“Yeah, right. I’m sure Ethan charmed you out of your panties just to get what he wanted.”

“That’s not true!” Ethan snapped, his fear of Chad kicking his ass turning to anger as his friend finally let go of his shirt. “I really like her. This has nothing to do with me just wanting to sleep with her.”

“She’s my baby sister, Ethan!”

“Stop calling me that,” you sighed in frustration. “I’m a year younger than you. I’m a legal adult. Nothing Ethan and I did is wrong aside from you two saying that he needed to keep his distance from me.”

“He obviously doesn’t listen,” Mindy said, as you felt yourself start to get mad.

“You know what really fucking sucks? You two are my best friends, but you won’t let me live. You won’t let me experience things. You know Ethan’s not a bad person…you know how bad I’ve wanted to hang out with him and get to know him better, but you guys won’t let that happen.” you ranted, “I like him, too. And if I want to be with him, you aren’t going to tell me that I can’t! You better not threaten him anymore, either. I’m sick of this childish shit.”

Your sibling stared at you as Chad nodded in understanding. He had no problem intimidating any of the boys that’d shown interest in you, but out of the two of them, he was the one that seemed to be the one that got you.

“I do really like her. I don’t want us to have to sneak around, but I’ll keep doing it, if I have to,” Ethan said, smiling at you. “She’s amazing. It’d be stupid of me to not want a chance with her.”

“Do we have to sneak around? Or can you guys be cool about it?” you asked, as Chad sighed.

“I’m cool with it. Just…no hooking up when I’m here.”

“You’re okay with this?” Mindy scoffed, as Chad rolled his eyes.

“Ethan’s not a bad person. If he really likes her, what’s the big deal?”

“And that’s why he’s my favorite,” you said, brushing past them to head to the bathroom.

“Told you,” Chad said, teasingly pointing at Mindy before she smacked his hand away. “Ow!”

“Ethan, you better not hurt her,” Mindy scolded, as he nodded.

“I won’t…but can you guys get out while I put my pants back on?”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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