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d-z20 · 18 days ago

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The Agent Next Door (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master List

The Worst Morning Of Your Life (so far)

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you.

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here."

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. You’re hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.”

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you.

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That is all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, cumminng hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down.

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started.

alright folks, I've got a sequel in the works but can't decide on the vibes (there'll be smut regardless): READ PART 2 HERE

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hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

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hey! i love your stuff :)! was wondering if you could maybe do a short fic with hotch where he's interrogating the reader (who is a suspect, but is actually innocent), and the reader politely informs hotch that they're about to faint (they have a fainting condition, like POTS or something). hotch doesn't panic bc he's, well, hotch, but he calls for medical help. meanwhile, reader is just casually lying down on the cold floor of the cell and being really chill waiting to faint, even making conversation. anyway, hotch finds out that the police officers who had arrested the reader had denied them their medicine, and he rips them a new one.

OBVIOUSLY DONT WRITE IT IF YOU DONT WANT TO, I THINK YOU'RE LOVELY AND I DONT WANT TO PRESSURE YOu

have a nice day!

Unexpected Interrogation | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: Hurt/comfort?, medical condition (POTS), mistreatment by law enforcement, fainting, medication.

A/N: I'm trying a new layout for when I answer requests, I don't know if I'll commit to it, but I like it for now.

Also I don't know anything about POTS or other fainting conditions, so I hope I did it justice - feedback is appriciated.

Hotch sat across from you, his expression stern and unyielding as he leaned forward in his chair, the dim lighting of the room casting sharp shadows on his face. To any observer, you would seem calm - your hands folded neatly in your lap and eyes focused - but inside, you were already feeling the telltale signs. The tightness in your chest, the lightheadedness creeping in. You’d been here for hours, and now, without your medicine, it was simply a matter of time before you would faint.

"You've been uncooperative since the moment we brought you in," Hotch said, his voice level but carrying the weight of suspicion as he couldn't quite figure out if you were guilty or not. "Tell me why you were at the scene."

You took a slow breath, trying to center yourself. "Agent Hotchner," you said politely, your voice a little too soft for the intensity of the moment. "I understand why I'm here, and I will tell you everything you want to know, but I think I should let you know… I'm about to faint."

He blinked, his gaze sharpening but not a trace of panic crossing his face. If anything, his brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and concern settling in his expression. "You're about to faint?"

"Yeah," you nodded, shifting slightly in your seat, trying to ignore the swimming sensation behind your eyes. "I have a fainting condition - it's called POTS. Normally, I’d take medicine, but..." You gave a tired shrug. "The officers who arrested me didn’t let me have it."

The tension in the room shifted. Hotch leaned back slightly, the gears in his mind already turning. He wasn’t a man to panic, even in strange situations. He pressed a button on the desk to signal for help, keeping his eyes on you. "I’ll get a medic in here."

You offered him a small smile. "Thanks, but it’s cool. Happens all the time. I’ll just… lie down." Without waiting for a response, you eased yourself off the chair - thankful that you weren't cuffed to the table - and laid flat on the cold tiled floor, your head resting on your arms as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The coolness of the floor helped somewhat, but your vision was already narrowing at the edges.

Hotch stood, watching you for a moment before kneeling next to you, his tone softened slightly. "How long have you been without your medication?"

You glanced at him from your place on the floor, blinking slowly. "Since they arrested me… hours ago? Honestly, it could be worse. But you know, fainting isn’t great for clearing one’s name." You chuckled lightly, trying to make the best of the situation, though it quickly turned into a weary sigh. "I’m innocent, by the way."

He didn't respond to that directly, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something acknowledging the injustice of your situation. "How often does this happen?"

"Often enough that I’m pretty used to it," you said casually, your breath slowing as the dizziness increased. "But hey... it gives me an excuse to lie down on the job, right?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Hotch’s mouth - just for a moment - but then his professional mask slipped back into place. "Don’t talk. Just focus on staying calm."

You hummed in agreement, though your vision was blurring fast. "I’ll be out soon, but when I wake up, I’d love to continue this conversation. I mean, I know I’m innocent, but it would be great to convince you of that too."

He gave a short nod. "We’ll get to that. First, let’s get you taken care of."

Moments later, the medics arrived, rushing into the room with a stretcher and medical kit. But Hotch didn’t leave your side, ensuring they knew about your condition, making sure they were doing everything right. As they checked your vitals and prepared to move you, you started to fade, your words becoming slow and drowsy. "Thanks, agent… you’re not as intimidating as I thought you’d be."

The medic smiled at that, while Hotch’s lips pressed into a thin line, the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes. But once you were being taken care of, Hotch’s focus shifted back to the situation that had led to this. The officers who had arrested you. The ones who had denied you your medication.

Minutes later, Hotch found the officers outside the room, his demeanor stone cold. “Which one of you denied the suspect their medication?”

One of the officers, a tall man with a smug expression, stepped forward. “We didn’t think it was relevant. They didn’t say it was urgent.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a low tone. “Didn’t think it was relevant? You’re lucky they’re stable, or you’d be facing a lawsuit at the very least.” He took a step closer, towering over the man. “You do not withhold medical treatment from anyone in custody. I don’t care if they’re a suspect, a witness, or guilty. Do you understand?”

The officer faltered, clearly not expecting the sharp reprimand. “Y-yes, sir.”

“I’ll be filing a report about this. You’ve jeopardized a life today. If I ever hear of anything of the sort again, you’ll be out of a job.” Hotch didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and heading back toward the interrogation room. There were few things that set him off more than mistreatment, especially under his watch.

He returned just as the medics were finishing up. You were still unconscious, but stable. Hotch stood by the door for a moment, watching as they prepared to transport you, his expression unreadable.

Innocent or not, he was going to make sure you were treated right.

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natsaffection · 4 months ago

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Request if ur taking them: hella smutty enemies to lovers w nat and female reader… like dom nat is interrogating/torturing r w sex like not letting us come etc unless we give over the information

Interrogation. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Sex Machine, Sex as „Torture“, begging, restraints, edging, Clit play, multiple orgasm, overstimulation

Word Count: 2,7k

A/N: Uhm..MAYBE I got carried away..

The battle had been fierce, and the aftermath was a testament to the clash between the Avengers and you. Debris and rubble covered the once pristine SHIELD facility. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt metal. Amidst the chaos, you lay on the ground, breathing heavily, your eyes full of defiance and a hint of amusement.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stood over you, her face a mask of determination. She knelt down and pinned your arms behind your back with practiced ease. You struggled, but Natasha’s grip was ironclad.

“It’s over.” Natasha said, her voice deep and firm. You smirked mockingly, your eyes meeting Natasha’s. “You seem pretty confident, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha ignored the provocation and reached for the handcuffs on her belt. “I’ve had enough of your games. It’s time to put an end to this.”

As Natasha secured a cuff around your wrist, you laughed breathlessly. “Oh, careful, these are kind of my thing,” you said with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, Natasha tightened her grip, “Come on! You don’t have to be so rough. We could have some fun instead.”

But she pressed your check into the dirt, her knee firmly in your back to prevent any movement. “Keep talking, and you’ll find out how rough I can be.“ Natasha hissed, her tone dripping with menace. “The fun is over. You’ve been causing trouble for too long.”

You writhed and twisted, trying to break free, but Natasha’s hold was unyielding. “You’re no fun..” you muttered, your voice muffled by the ground.

Natasha tightened the cuffs on your wrists. “And if you weren’t so insistent on being a villain, you might actually be worth my time.”

You tried to sit up, looking around as if searching for an escape route or an opportunity. “Don’t even think about it,” Natasha warned, increasing the pressure with her knee. You groaned but stopped struggling, though your eyes still roamed.

SHIELD agents were still securing the area, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha had to wait for the all-clear signal before she could take you to the waiting vehicle. The minutes dragged on, filled with the distant sounds of agents clearing debris and securing the area.

“You really won’t let up, will you?” you said, your tone a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “No.” Natasha replied curtly. You sighed dramatically but didn’t resist further. “You know, I was serious about the restraints.. Maybe one day you’ll take me up on that offer.”

Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the surroundings until she received a nod from a nearby agent. She finally relaxed, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion. Her grip remained firm as she led you to the waiting vehicle.

“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered, pushing you forward. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, your defiant gaze never wavering.

As you reached the vehicle, Natasha secured you inside before taking a seat herself. The doors closed with a heavy thud, sealing your fate. As the vehicle drove away, you couldn’t help but admire the vie, not of the receding landscape, but of the relentless agent who had finally captured you.

The ride in the vehicle was silent, your attempts at conversation met only with Natasha’s stony silence. Upon arrival at the SHIELD headquarters, you were escorted through a series of sterile corridors, your wrists still firmly bound. Eventually, you were deposited in an interrogation room, the door closing with a resounding click behind you.

Natasha stood outside the room, watching you through the one-way window. Director Fury approached, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

“Anyone getting her to talk?” Fury asked. Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But I have an idea.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I want to try a different approach,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving you. “Something that requires a bit more… hands-on work.”

Fury’s gaze followed hers, a knowing look crossing his face. “You think you can break her?” Natasha’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I know I can.”

Fury considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Do what you have to. Just make sure we get the information we need.”

Natasha gave a curt nod and turned to a couple of nearby agents. “Bring her to Room B.”

The agents obeyed, entering the room to escort you to the new location. You, always quick to notice a change, looked curiously between the agents and Natasha. “Tired of the room already?”

Natasha didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive as she followed the agents and you down another corridor. They stopped before a reinforced door, which opened to reveal a stark, dimly lit room. In the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling.

Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the setup, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Oh, Natasha, you really know how to treat a girl.”

Natasha stepped forward, her gaze steady. “Keep talking and you will see where it takes you.“ You laughed, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “You almost had me fooled. I mean, you’ve got chains hanging from the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to spoil me.”

The agents finished their task and stepped back. Now you hung from your wrists, your feet barely touching the ground. Natasha approached you, her expression cold and calculating.

“You like to talk,” Natasha said, her voice low and menacing. “But now you’re going to listen.” Your smile faded slightly as you saw the determination in Natasha’s eyes. “Are you going to torture me for information?”

Natasha leaned close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Kind of.”

Natasha knew exactly how to handle this situation. She had done her homework and knew your psychological profile. Natasha’s plan was unorthodox, but she knew it would be effective.

With a swift motion, Natasha signaled to a control panel on the wall. A mechanical hum filled the room as a device descended from the ceiling, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes widened in surprise and something else..anticipation.

“You know, if you didn’t insist on being a villain, you might actually enjoy this,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Your defiance wavered, replaced by a mix of excitement and apprehension. “You wouldn’t…”

Natasha’s grin returned. “Oh, but I would. You see, Y/n, everyone has a breaking point. And I’m going to find yours.”

The device was now perfectly positioned, and Natasha activated it. The gentle vibrations began, and your body tensed in the restraints. You tried to hide your reactions, but Natasha could see right through you.

“Let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude,” Natasha said, her voice a silky purr. “Tell me what I need to know.”

You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Do you really think this will work? That I’ll just spill everything because of a little… pleasure?”

Natasha’s eyes darkened. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive it can be.” The intensity of the device increased, and your breathing grew heavier. You tried to turn away, but the restraints held you firmly in place. Natasha watched you closely, knowing that your resolve would eventually crumble.

Minutes passed, and the room was filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and stifled moans. Natasha remained silent, her eyes never leaving your face. She knew exactly when your resistance began to waver.

“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, her voice gentle but commanding. Your eyes met Natasha’s, filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. “I- I won’t… give in…”

Natasha leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “We’ll see about that.” The vibrations continued, pushing you closer to the edge. Natasha could see how close you were, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. Just as you were on the verge, Natasha deactivated the device, leaving you gasping for breath. FUCK, you thought. You glared at Natasha, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “You’re playing dirty.”

Natasha’s expression remained impassive. “All you have to do is talk, and this can be over.” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Natasha grinned. “Then we continue.”

She reactivated the device, and the cycle began anew. Natasha watched intently, noting every reaction, every tremble. She knew the female body well, knew how to read the signs of an approaching climax. Every time you got close, Natasha would stop, leaving you teetering on the edge.

“You’re… a real piece of work,” you panted, your body glistening with sweat. “Thank you,” Natasha replied coolly. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”

Your resolve weakened, your body betraying you. You wanted to resist, to keep your secrets, but Natasha’s relentless game wore you down. “Alright..” you gasped, desperation in your voice. “I’ll talk!“

Natasha is stepping closer to you. “Start talking.” You took a shaky breath, your body still trembling. “I… I was hired by HYDRA… to infiltrate SHIELD. They wanted… information on your operations… your weaknesses..“ Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Who hired you? Names, Y/n.”

“Dr. Zola!” you admitted barely audibly. “He… he was the one who contacted me..“ Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Where can we find him?”

You hesitated, and Natasha reached for the control panel again. „No, wait! I’ll tell you! He’s… he’s in a hidden facility… in the Alps. I can give you the coordinates!”

Natasha nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. You had managed to deceive Natasha and keep your secrets. But your victory was short-lived.

“Did you enjoy your break?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively calm. Your smugness wavered. “What do you mean?”

Natasha walked towards you slowly, each step calculated. “Do you think I'm stupid? That I would let you off that easily?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Natasha grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be fun for me.” Natasha stepped closer to you, her voice now a seductive whisper. “You see, Y/n, I know exactly how your mind works. Now, you’re going to learn the true meaning of torture.”

The vibrations began again, this time more intense and relentless. Your body reacted immediately, and Natasha watched with a knowing smile.

“I see you’re already close,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “But this time, I won’t stop. I’m going to push you past every limit you have.”

You gasped, your body tensing as the device did its work. Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, Y/n. How does it feel to be outsmarted?”

Your breaths came in ragged bursts, your body on the brink. “When I get out of here-” Natasha’s smile widened. “Answers.Now.”

Your resolve shattered as you realized the futility of resistance. You spilled everything, your words a desperate rush. “Fuck! The facility is in the Carpathians, not the Alps. Zola… H-He is there, with a team! They’re developing a new Bio weapon!”

Natasha nodded, her eyes never leaving your face. “Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” However, she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the intensity. Your eyes widened in shock. “I told the truth!”

Natasha’s expression was cold and unyielding. “This is for lying earlier. You need to learn that there are consequences.”

Your body convulsed as you were pushed past your limit, your pleas turning into incoherent screams. Natasha watched impassively, making sure you learned your lesson.

She placed her hand on your body, her fingers stroking and teasing expertly, amplifying the overstimulation. Her touch was precise, knowing exactly how to drive you over the edge repeatedly.

“Do you feel that, Y/n?” Natasha whispered seductively. “I can do this all night. You won’t find any relief until I’m satisfied.”

Your eyes begged for mercy, but Natasha’s resolve was ironclad. „God, this Face is so cute..“ She continued her relentless torture, pushing you to multiple, agonizingly intense orgasms. Each time you thought you couldn’t take any more, Natasha found a new way to amplify the pleasure, keeping you on the brink of madness.

“You belong to me now,” Natasha said, her voice a velvety purr. “Every time you lie to me, this is what you’ll get.”

Your body shook uncontrollably, your mind barely holding on. Natasha’s hand moved to your clit, her fingers circling with expert precision. The overstimulation was unbearable, driving you over the edge again and again.

“Please… no more…” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. Natasha’s smile was one of cold satisfaction. “Remember this feeling, Y/n. This is what happens when you cross me.”

Natasha leaned in one last time, her voice a deadly whisper. “Next time, think twice before you try to deceive me.”

“S-Should I apologize!? Is that what you want to h-hear?” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, there y-you have it! Now turn it o-” You gasped, your words cut off by a shattering climax that coursed through you.

Natasha’s smile was triumphant, but she didn’t stop the machine. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re so sweet.”

Your body writhed, your mind a haze of pleasure and pain. “N-Natasha!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. “Please…”

Natasha stepped closer, her hands now working in tandem with the machine. Her fingers found your clit again. Your eyes widened, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. “No… no, please… I can’t take it…!“ you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, yes, you can,” Natasha replied, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And you will.” Natasha knew you weren’t in any real pain, just overwhelmed by pleasure. She knew your body so well, every sensitive spot mapped in her mind. She could sense your inner conflict, your head shaking in defiance while your body responded with undeniable arousal. Deep down, you agreed, unable to deny the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your body arched, your mind a whirl of sensations. Natasha’s fingers and the relentless machine worked in harmony, driving you to heights of pleasure you hadn’t thought possible. Every touch, was designed to break you, to make you completely surrender.

“Say it again.” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. Your voice was a broken sob. “I’m sorry… Please… Please…” you repeated, your body trembling violently.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, her fingers never pausing. “But I want more. I want you to scream for me.” And you did. Your body writhed, every nerve on fire. You were sure you would die from the sheer intensity of the pleasure, your mind shattered, your will completely broken. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, her touch both torment and balm.

Her fingers moved with expert precision, finding the perfect spot that made you jerk violently in your restraints. “Ah, there it is,” Natasha purred, holding your hips steady as she intensified the stimulation. “I knew you had it in you.”

Your eyes rolled back, your body arching helplessly against the relentless pleasure. “FUCK… PLEASE… I’m begging you…!!”

“Beg all you want,” Natasha whispered, her voice deep and sensual. “I love hearing you beg. Where’s your attitude now, hm?” Natasha taunted, her fingers never slowing. “You were so defiant before. What happened?”

“I…I..” your voice was a breathless sob, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm.

Natasha’s fingers continued their merciless assault, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. Your body arched, your mind breaking under the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You were sure you would die from it, your will completely shattered under Natasha’s expert touch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natasha slowed the machine and her fingers, giving you a moment to catch your breath. She leaned close, her lips brushing your ear. “You did good,” she murmured. “But remember, there’s always more to tell, more to give.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body sagging in the restraints. In that moment, you knew you were utterly and completely at Natasha’s mercy. And there was nothing you could do about it.

#natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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luveline · 5 months ago

Note

Idk if you've ever written it, but like, hotch having to save bau!r after she's been kidnapped and tourtered and shit and when hotch finds them, babes is BLEEDING and shit and like barely coherent but spewing the absolute most random bullshit to hotch bc their panicking and whatnot?

thank you for requesting 💌 fem, 1.2k

Hotch has felt sick for three days.

He stands with his ear pressed to his shoulder, as though holding the ear piece further in will bring news of you quicker. His hands are up and ready, torch and firearm held aloft, wrists crossed.

Morgan has to go in first. Morgan, because if you’re dead, Hotch will take actions that will disbar him from being Unit Chief. He can’t keep his head, not if you’re gone. His anger will swallow him whole, and he will do things that can’t be forgiven.

His stomach churns, waiting, waiting, waiting. The sky is dark as pitch and the house they surround doesn’t stir for a time.

Then, low and long, carrying heavy through the air like a sledgehammer to his chest, is the reed of your screaming. It’s a strangled sound, sobbing to begin with, begging as it ends. Hotch hears your, “No, no, please! Please! Please.” Your third please fractures into a writhing scream as the pain begins again.

Hotch’s arms twitch, threatening to fall to his sides. You’re alive, but…

“Okay, we’re going in,” Morgan says through the ear piece, clearly having heard the same agony as Hotch. “Right now. Team two with Hotch. Everyone ready?”

You must have screamed so loudly for it to get through walls. That’s all Hotch can think as he follows behind the second team, the sounds of cracking wood and tight footsteps ahead.

He’s not in the room, but he’s down the hall, he can hear the fuss as he hurries forward. “Drop the weapon!” Morgan shouts, evidence of his own anger in the sheer booming volume of his voice. “Drop the weapon now! Drop it!”

A sharper crack as a bullet hits something and a thud. Hotch forces himself into the room just in time to see a large, short-haired figure fall to the floor.

You’re covered in red and purple and brown, blood in long lines and gushing from deep wounds, a mess of it. He doesn’t even know where to start, your gutted, exhausted sobbing like a knife in his stomach, your limp hands hanging either side of the strange chair you’ve been strapped to. “Morgan,” you say, audibly relieved and yet your pain obvious and electric as you gasp for air, “Morgan, you have to get me out.”

“I’ve got you,” Hotch says, holstering his gun in one breath and by your side the next.

A SWAT agent begins to saw through your binds with a serrated knife. Hotch’s hands stutter on the metal ends of the chair, wanting to touch you but terrified he’ll put a hand in a wound he hasn’t noticed.

“Hotch,” you say, and your relief is worse now. Like you aren’t covered in your own blood, like his being there has fixed everything.

“Y/N,” he says back, holding your elbow carefully, “it’s okay, it’s all right.”

“You have to get the straps off of me. I need to go home-”

“I know, that’s what we’re doing. We’ll get them off of you–”

“–I have to go home, Hotch. You have to take me home.”

He knows that medical are close behind them, they’re coming in just as soon as the building has been cleared, and there’s more than enough agents to have it done in the next thirty seconds. He has to assess you in that time. He can take care of you.

The SWAT agent cuts your last bindings and you immediately attempt to get up, gasping in pain when four hands push you down at the same time. “Sit down,” Hotch says, “Y/N, just stay there, just for a second.”

“No, no, let me down, I need to go home, I haven’t looked after anything and– and the laundry’s piled up, and–”

“Honey,” he says firmly, “I’m gonna take you home. I am.” He meets your eyes, panic and tears and concerning bloodshot clouding your vision. “I’m gonna take you home, but please stay still. Just until the EMS is here. Just so they can look at you.”

“I want to go home now,” you say, nearly shrieking, grasping at his arm. It’s so loud in the room with so many people speaking that he’s almost glad for it.

Your fingers slide down his sleeve and leave streaks of gore in their wake. Your hands are caked in your own blood. Done with his bargaining, you push up into his arms and get onto one of your feet, an incredible amount of force behind you as you get your way. Your knees buckle immediately —Hotch scoops you up and dumps you back in your chair, even as you cry and cry into his chest.

“No, I need to go home, I have so much to do, I can’t stay here,” you whine, pain eating at your voice, your fingers weakening where they’re pressed to his stomach.

“I promise I’m going to take you home,” he says, ducking to speak directly into your ear. “Do you trust me? I promise I’m going to take you back home. Please, please, sweetheart, trust me.”

You hiccup, tears thick running down your cheeks, and orange where they collect at your chin, chest heaving as you border incoherency. “I do trust you. I– I trust you, I just–”

He takes a showful breath. “Deep breath. I’ll bring you home soon.”

“All my plants are dead,” you mumble, blood smudging over your eyelids as you rub them harshly.

Hotch holds your wrists.

— <3

He keeps his promise (though you don’t remember him making it, not beyond what Morgan recounts). Hotch takes you home when you’re well enough to be there, and he, done with pretences, stays for a while as you recover.

“What are you doing?” you ask, more tired than you’ve ever been in your life, peering at him through sticky lashes where you lay in bed.

He’s odd to see without shoes. “Nothing,” he says, misting the leaves of your window plant with a frown. “Just hoping I can bring this one back to life.”

You’re not sure why he’s so worried about the plants. It can’t be judgement; he knows exactly why they died.

Well. Whatever professionalism was between you is well and truly gone. You wonder what it is you said to him that made him finally snap, but it was nice to wake up with his hand in yours, and it’s nicer still to see him each morning. When you clear your throat and look at him longingly, you know without asking that he’s going to find his way back to your side, and kiss your cheek, hands smelling of fresh soil. He does it all with ease.

“You brought me back to life,” you joke weakly.

“I had much more help than the plants.” He’s been panicky around you sometimes since he found you again, but not scared. He tilts your face gently one way and then another. “You look pretty, but very tired. Why don’t you sleep some more, hm?”

“Can I… I mean, do you think you could…”

He takes your arm as he settles in to comfort beside you. His fingers begin to trace a gentle line down your arm, meandering around cuts and bruises.

You close your eyes, hesitant of the darkness. “Are you sure I’m okay?” you ask quietly.

“You’re home, honey. Safe and sound.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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mariasont · 7 months ago

Text

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive.

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair.

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle.

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him.

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there.

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well.

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction.

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him.

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that.

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk.

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb.

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability.

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reader x bimbo!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reader x female reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #Spotify

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clambuoyance · 1 year ago

Text

[Lovesquare Au]

Part 0 || Next >>

I watched the mlb movie and caught up w the show so I got au brainrot again 💀 My first post was more silly and had smaller snippets but somehow I got carried away and ended up drawing a lot more than the first time around. I’ll post it in parts tho so I don’t overload one post 🙏

In short, Tim -> likes Conner…but is fond of Superboy? Kon -> likes Robin, but has gotten to know Tim a lot better.

And the timeline/world for this au is a big mishmash of 90s comics/ROTS movie/TT03/2000s comics and headcanons, so in summary for backstory for this post especially:

Superboy - during Superman’s death, he was created at Cadmus (w funding from Lex) and told he was Superman’s clone, even if he is a lot younger and different. Like the comics/my headcanon, he is fascinated by the celebrity life and Lex who promised him he’d be as great as Superman, assigned him Rex Leech who would be his personal agent/pr manager/etc. Lex was kind of like…his funder and sponsor that promoted him as the guy that would give new hope in Supermans absence.

Flash forward to Superman’s return, he decides to go on a world tour/become disillusioned with celebrity life until Clark comes and takes him to the farm and suggests he lives as Conner Kent to get away from the likes of people like Lex and Rex lol. So he’s not connected to them by contract anymore but he will do things out of obligation (like being a bodyguard at a party)

In this au, Lex doesn’t know Conner is Superboy either, and he hasn’t told Kon to what extent he was involved in Kon’s creation (yet…) but he’s hinted at it before

Tim - in this au, he’s also been operating as Robin for a longer time but is recently dealing with also becoming Tim Drake-Wayne and preparing to become the possible successor to Bruce Wayne’s company so that’s why he’s at this fancy party 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ I haven’t quite decided how much of his backstory to adapt to this au specifically but he becomes Robin in a similar way as his debut with becoming Robin bc he sees that Batman is lost without one and Batman needs a Robin. By the time this au starts he’s gone to different schools and I guess is going to a new one where Conner is also attending? Also his parents are now dead in this 😔 and he’s very secretive compared to Superboy and is the one that attaches more weight to a secret identity

they somehow go to the same school idk don’t worry about it i throw logic out the window in this regard for my silly lovesquare shenanigans 🫡 the World building isn’t the main focus it’s just a backdrop to their dynamic anyways . Here. Take my cringe.

#clam draws #dc #kon el #tim drake #timkon #dc comic #timkon au #timkon lovesquare au #comic #my art #this is sooo fanficy but. oh well. paneling practice 🫡🫡🫡#dc clamics

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mandarinmoons · 30 days ago

Note

Angst request you say?

Spencer frequently misses/reschedules dates because of his job, to the point where you’ve learned not to get your hopes up. When you miss a call from him, you assume he’s canceling your date for that night and shoot him a quick text, putting your phone away in disappointment- but instead he was calling to just talk or something and you accidentally stand him up.

:) - 🐈‍⬛

“I’m sorry but I can’t make it tonight. Can we reschedule?”

“I’m so sorry I missed our reservation. The case ended up taking longer than expected, I will make it up to you.”

Those kinds of messages from Spencer were a regular occurance. You knew that when dating an FBI agent it wouldn’t be easy for him to always make it to every single date, you knew you couldn’t always get what you wanted, but it was starting to reach a point where it felt pointless to even schedule something at all as you knew you were bound to be met with the same apologizes as the previous times.

Guilt was evident in his eyes every time he finally made it home. He had made sure to stop by the store on the way home to get some flowers for you as a way of saying sorry, but at some point getting a bouquet of nearly wilted tulips was starting to get old. He tried his best and you admired him for it, but sometimes you longed for something better.

After a few weeks since Spencer last canceled on you, the two of you made plans to have a small date at a nearby coffee shop. Truth be told you weren’t really looking forward to it, the past two months felt like a constant let down and you didn’t have it in you to be stood up again. Right now, staying at home by yourself and watching a movie sounded a lot better than waiting at the destination for over an hour, hoping for Spencer to show up.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your phone ring. Looking at the caller, it was none other than the man you had just thought about. You didn’t feel a need to hurry to answer it, you carried on washing the dishes as if you had no care in the world, which at this point you really didn’t.

The phone continued ringing for a minute or so before it stopped and a missed call notification popped up. Finishing the last of the dishes, you dried your hands and picked up your phone, opened the messages and typed out a quick response, not bothering to call back as you didn’t have the energy to deal with his excuses again.

“I’m not feeling too good. Not going to be able to make it.”

Simple and straight to the point. Not too emotional because a part of you wanted him to feel the coldness, whether he would pick up on it or not you didn’t care about. He knew he had disappointed you more than a handful of times, so this shouldn’t be something shocking to him.

As Spencer received your text his lips were quick to turn into a frown. Were you sick or was there something else going on? Looking at the vase on his desk, a fresh bouquet of daisies were sitting, waiting to be handed to you.

Spencer knew deep down why you had canceled on him, he was surprised you had been this patient with him for this long. But even the most forgiving people have their limits and it was clear that you had reached yours, which he wasn’t mad at, but he was disappointed in himself that he had let himself drag this on for far too long, to a point where he didn’t know if he could regain your trust, or worse, if you’d even want to see him again.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom

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visionboardstudio · 2 years ago

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clarkstephen · 2 years ago

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springtyme · 2 months ago

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for the 🍂 can we have some aaron hotch x female reader where she is bonding with jack after having become his step mom? i would love that. your writing is so beautiful and i love how you write very much 🧡thank you

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 ♡

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: After having dated Aaron for a good while and becoming close with his son, you've finally taken the next step and moved in with them. Now, the three of you are taking a weekend trip to bond as a family.

word count: 1.2k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗) 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels resonates in your chest as you glance out the window, the vibrant hues of fall foliage blurring into a watercolor of oranges, reds, and yellows. The crisp air sneaks in through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the scent of earth and damp leaves. You’re on a much-anticipated trip with Aaron and Jack. It's a rare moment of respite away from the complexities of the BAU for Aaron, and a chance for you to bond as a new family.

Jack is sitting in the seat next to you, drawing a very colorful picture of a dog. He has been drawing a lot of dogs lately, which he has strategically left around the house. Aaron showed you one he had found in his briefcase folder the other day, tucked neatly between pages filled with reports. ‘Guess we have to give that boy a dog,’ you had said. You can’t help but smile as you look down at the little boy next to you, his concentration evident in the way his brow furrows slightly as he adds streaks of green for rolling hills and bright blue for the sky.

You had been scared to take on the role of stepmom, afraid of doing it wrong, but it’s now been two months since you moved in with Aaron and Jack, and it has been a surprisingly easy experience. Every day feels like a new adventure, filled not only with the challenge of blending into a family but also with the simple joys of watching Jack grow and express himself.

You turn your head and catch a glimpse of Aaron across the aisle. He’s engrossed in a book, brows furrowed in that familiar way that only intensifies his rugged good looks. There’s something utterly comforting about the way he immerses himself in stories, yet you find it somewhat amusing that he always manages to select the most serious literature, even amidst the simplicity of a train ride.

“Dad,” Jack’s voice breaks the quiet, pulling you from your thoughts. He leans forward, resting his elbows and forearms on the table, eyes wide with uncontained excitement. “Can we get hot cocoa when we stop?”

Aaron’s gaze lifts from his book, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Sure, buddy. How about we find a café and grab some pastries too?”

Jack practically bounces in his seat, and you feel an overwhelming warmth at the sight of Aaron with his son. After years of navigating the complexities of being a single dad and a dedicated agent, seeing him cherish these moments of joy lights you up inside.

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I think that sounds like a perfect plan. We should make it a tradition every time we travel in the fall.”

Jack whips his head, looking up at you with wide, excited eyes as he nod eagerly at your idea.

Aaron sets his book down, shifting his full attention to you and Jack. “Tradition it is.” His eyes lock with yours, a spark passing between you as the train looms forward.

A few minutes pass, filled with the sounds of the train and Jack’s enthusiastic recounting of his latest school project. You steal moments to appreciate Aaron across from you—the way his hair falls just slightly over his forehead, the way he listens intently to Jack, genuinely engaged, his expression softening as he nods with pride.

You can’t help but smile as Jack’s laughter ricochets around the compartment, a melody you find comforting. This is what you wanted—a family. And in this cozy train cart, it feels as though everything is right in the world.

Suddenly, Aaron reaches across the aisle, his hand brushing against yours. The gentle connection sends a flutter through your chest, and you look over, meeting his gaze. There’s a tenderness there, a silent affirmation of how far you’ve come together, how much you’ve both invested in this newfound family.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, his voice low, almost a whisper among the noises of the train.

You chuckle softly, your cheeks warming. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you say, shifting in your seat to fully face him.

His thumb brushes against your knuckles thoughtfully, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m the lucky one,” he replies, his eyes shining with sincerity. “We’re making great memories. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy them as much.”

Your heart swells at his words. “You’re a great dad, Aaron. It’s really inspiring.”

He shakes his head slightly, as if the compliment makes him shy. “It’s easy to be good when you have you two in my life.”

Before another word can unravel between you, Jack bangs a fist on the table in excitement. “Look! The trees are all yellow and red! Can we take a picture?”

You laugh at his infectious energy and nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely!”

You open your purse and take out the disposable camera you had bought for your trip and hand it to Jack. You help him reposition it so he can capture the vivid scenery outside. As he angles the camera towards the window, he squeals in delight. He takes a picture of the scenery outside the window before turning to point the camera at Aaron.

“Say cheese, dad!” Jack giggles, and you can’t help but laugh at his infectious joy, which bounces between you and Aaron like a pulse of happiness.

Aaron obliges and Jack snaps a picture of his dad, giggling with excitement before handling the camera over to Aaron.

“Now take one of us!” Jack urges, his eyes sparkling with thrill.

Aaron takes the camera, looking between you and Jack, a soft smile spreading across his face. There’s a shared warmth in the space between the three of you, a cocoon of laughter and happiness that feels almost magical. You place your arm around Jack and he leans against you, your heart fluttering with warm affection as you pull him a little closer.

“Alright, big smiles,” Aaron says, lifting the camera to capture the moment. You make a silly face while Jack beams with joy, his mouth wide open in a grin, a perfect reflection of the pure happiness radiating from him.

The click of the camera echoes in the small compartment, sealing the memory of this perfect moment in time. As the train chugs along, the afternoon sun begins to dip a little lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow through the window. You see the sparkle in Jack’s eyes, the way he revels in the joy of the here and now, and the warmth of Aaron’s presence feels like a comforting embrace.

“You think we’ll remember this day forever?” Jack asks, his voice a soft whisper, batting those big eyes up at you both.

Smiling down at him, you nod. “Absolutely, buddy. This is the start of many wonderful adventures together.”

Aaron gazes at you, a knowing smile gracing his lips, and in that moment, you realize the truth of your words. The laughter, the love, and the memories you’re weaving—they’re not just moments; they’re the foundation of your new family.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels becomes a soothing lullaby, wrapping around you all as you lean back into your seat, Jack snuggled against you, and Aaron’s hand resting gently on your knee. Outside, the world blurs into a tapestry of colors, mirroring the vibrant joy in your heart.

In this fleeting moment, you understand that together, you’re crafting a life filled with warmth, laughter, and unbreakable bonds—a life that feels just right.

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raekensluver · 4 months ago

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dangerous attractions (3)

part one, part two, part three

description: your mysterious new neighbor, spencer reid, turns out to be an agent for the fbi, and you get tangled up in his dangerous life.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, r is implied as being shorter than spencer.

song rec: reflections by the nbhd- "i never knew somebody like you, somebody."

w.c: 3.1k

an: thank you so much for the love on my recent publishings!!

over the next few weeks, spencer became a constant presence in your life. he would come over every time he got off work, his eyes searching yours for any signs of fear or trauma. his visits grew longer, his smiles more genuine, and the quiet chess games evolved into deep, late-night conversations about everything and nothing at all.

you found yourself drawn to his world—the complex puzzles of human behavior that he solved every day, the quiet strength that allowed him to face such horrors and still come home to a quiet apartment. he spoke rarely of his cases, but the few details he shared painted a picture of a man who cared deeply for the people he was sworn to protect.

his visits grew more frequent, and with each one, the tension between you grew stronger. it was as if the danger had drawn you closer together, the shared experience of fear and adrenaline forging a bond that neither of you could ignore. you began to crave the sound of his footsteps in the hallway, the gentle knock on your door that signaled his arrival.

spencer noticed the change in you, the way you leaned into him when he spoke, the way your eyes searched his for reassurance. he offered comfort without words, his presence a silent promise that you weren't alone. he would sit with you, not saying much, just being there—a steady anchor in the storm of your thoughts.

one evening, as you sat side by side on your couch, the air grew thick with something unspoken. the tension was palpable, a live wire connecting you both. spencer reached for your hand, his touch sending a jolt through your body. your eyes met, and for a moment, you could see the weight of his job, the toll it took on him, the loneliness he carried like an invisible shield.

you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. "thank you," you murmured, the words feeling inadequate for the comfort he brought.

spencer squeezed your hand gently. "for what?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.

you tilted your head to look at him, his eyes searching yours. "for being here," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "for… everything."

his gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of his job, the intensity of his world, seemed to fade away. "you don't have to thank me," he said, his voice gentle. "i just want to make sure you're okay."

you felt a warmth spread through you, his simple words resonating deep within. "i know," you whispered. "but i do. i don't know what i would have done without you."

spencer's eyes searched yours, and you could see the conflict within him—his desire to keep you safe at arm's length and the growing bond that was drawing him closer. "you're strong," he murmured. "you're much stronger than you think."

his words were like a warm embrace, and you found yourself leaning into him, craving the connection that had been building between you. "i'm scared," you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice surprising you.

spencer's gaze never wavered. "i know," he said softly. "but you're not alone."

his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. his touch was tender, a stark contrast to the world he lived in. you leaned into his palm, feeling the warmth of his skin, the solidity of his presence. without thinking, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his.

for a moment, time stood still. then, with a groan, spencer deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you. you melted into him, the fear and confusion of the past weeks coalescing into something warm and comforting. his kiss was urgent, hungry, as if he had been holding back for so long, afraid to let himself feel.

you responded in kind, your hands sliding up his chest, tangling in his hair. the world outside the apartment faded away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a dance of passion and relief. his touch was gentle but firm, his body heat seeping into yours, chasing away the chill that had taken up residence in your bones.

the kiss grew more intense, your breaths mingling as you explored each other's mouths with a desperation that was both thrilling and terrifying. the line between friend and protector had been crossed, and you weren't sure if there was any going back. but in that moment, you didn't care. all that mattered was the feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his embrace.

spencer's hands roamed your body, his touch sending waves of heat through you. you felt his need, his desire, and it matched your own. you had never been so alive, so present in the moment. the chaos of the recent past faded away, replaced by the rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

his hands found the hem of your shirt, and with trembling fingers, he began to lift it. you helped him, eager to feel his skin against yours. as the fabric was peeled away, you felt a sense of exposure, but also of liberation. there was no room for fear in the face of such raw passion.

his touch was gentle yet firm as he traced the lines of your body, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, his lips following the path of his fingers. a soft moan escaped your lips, and you knew that you were lost to this feeling, to him.

you straddled him on the couch, your legs wrapping around his waist. your bodies fit together perfectly, as if you had been made for this moment. his hands found your hips, guiding you closer, the heat between you building. the fabric of your clothes seemed to be the only thing separating you, a barrier that was quickly becoming unbearable.

his kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine. your own hands explored his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. you could feel his heart pounding in time with yours, a symphony of need and want.

his fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and with a sigh, you let it fall away. his eyes searched yours for permission, and with a nod, you gave it. he cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks. a gasp escaped your lips, and you leaned into his touch, feeling more alive than you had in months.

spencer's mouth found yours again, his kisses deepening as his hands continued to explore. you could feel the tension in his body, the coiled energy of a man who held the weight of the world on his shoulders finally letting go. you mirrored his urgency, needing to feel him, to connect in the most primal way possible.

you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly with trembling hands. he took over, his movements swift and sure as he undid the last button and shrugged the shirt off, revealing the expanse of his chest. your eyes took in the sight of him, the muscles honed from years of training, the scars that told a silent story of battles won and lost.

spencer flipped you around so that your back was pressed to his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. you gasped as his skin met yours, the heat of his body searing into you, his chest a wall of warmth and strength at your back. his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

his hands roamed over your body, his fingers deftly sliding under the waistband of your panties. with a gentle tug, he removed the last barrier between you, tossing the fabric aside. you could feel his breath, hot and ragged, against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings, praising your beauty, your strength. his words were a gentle caress, a balm to your frayed nerves.

his fingers found their way to your cunt, the softness of his touch making you gasp. you were wet, slick with desire, and he took note of it with a soft groan, his praise turning into a murmur of wonder. "you're so beautiful," he whispered, his fingertips tracing your folds with a feather-light touch. "so wet for me."

his words sent a shiver through you, and you arched your back, pushing your ass against his hardening cock. he took the hint, sliding a single digit inside you with a gentle pressure that had you moaning his name. "yes," you breathed.

spencer's hand moved with the rhythm of your hips, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back in your head. you could feel your walls tightening around him, desperate for release. "you're so wet," he murmured, his voice a dark promise in your ear. "you want me, don't you?"

you nodded, unable to form words as he added another finger, stretching you deliciously. "yes," you gasped, the sound barely audible. "more."

his strokes grew more deliberate, his thumb finding your clit and beginning to circle it with a firm pressure that had you panting. "you're so perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "so responsive."

your hips began to rock in time with his hand, the tension inside you building. "spencer," you moaned, his name a plea for more. "yes," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "let me make you feel good."

his fingers worked you with a skill that left you trembling, his touch both gentle and insistent. your body responded to his every command, your slickness dripping down your thighs. "you're so wet for me," he said, his voice thick with lust. "so fucking perfect."

his words were a catalyst, sending you hurtling towards climax. your eyes squeezed shut, your head thrown back, your mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm crashed over you. your muscles tightened around his fingers, pulsing with the intensity of your release.

spencer held you through it, his arms tight around your waist, his mouth moving from your neck to your ear, whispering sweet nothings that only served to prolong the pleasure. when the tremors finally subsided, you collapsed against him, your breaths coming in gasps.

his hands remained gentle on your body, the urgency of the moment giving way to a tender care. he turned you in his arms, so you faced him, and kissed you softly, the passion of moments ago now a gentle warmth that wrapped around you like a blanket. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "yes," you whispered, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "more than okay."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes filled with warmth. "good," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "because i've wanted to do this for a long time."

his kiss was gentle, a stark contrast to the passionate maelstrom of moments before. it was as if he was memorizing the taste of you, savoring every second. your hands slid up his arms, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingertips. you felt cherished, protected—like he was trying to erase the fear that had taken up residence in your soul.

spencer laid you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours. the cushions sank beneath your weight, the fabric warm and welcoming. his eyes searched yours, making sure you were ready, that you wanted this as much as he did. your nod was all the invitation he needed.

his hands moved to the button of his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. with a slow, deliberate movement, he unzipped them, the sound of his zipper echoing in the quiet room. he slid the fabric down his legs, revealing his erection, straining against the fabric of his boxers. your eyes widened, taking in the sight of him.

his cock was thick and hard, a testament to his desire for you. you felt a thrill of power, knowing that you had elicited such a response from this man who faced horrors on a daily basis. "spencer," you murmured, your voice thick with want.

his boxers followed the path of his pants, and he positioned himself between your legs. his cock nudged against your entrance, the heat of him making you ache for more. you reached down, wrapping your hand around him, feeling the pulse of his desire. "you're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.

you guided him inside you, his thickness stretching you deliciously. he pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes never leaving yours. when he was fully seated, he stilled, his chest heaving with the effort to hold back. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "yes," you whispered, the single word a declaration of trust. spencer's gaze searched yours, his expression a mix of concern and desire. with a gentle nod, he began to move, his strokes long and slow, as if he was savoring every moment.

you gripped the couch cushions, your body responding to his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his. the friction was exquisite, the fullness of him inside you filling you in a way nothing else ever had. his eyes remained locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

his strokes grew deeper, his pace increasing, as if he couldn't get enough of you. you felt your second orgasm building, a slow burn that started in your core and spread through your body like wildfire. "spencer," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips.

his eyes searched yours, the concern in them morphing into something more primal, something that told you he needed this just as much as you did. he leaned down, capturing your mouth with his, his tongue delving deep as he thrust harder, faster. you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed with each stroke, the way his breathing grew ragged.

his hand slid down your body, finding your clit once more, his thumb circling it with just the right amount of pressure. the sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more.

spencer's movements grew more urgent, his hips driving into you with a force that had you seeing stars. your moans grew louder, filling the room, echoing off the walls. his own breathing grew ragged, his eyes never leaving yours as he claimed you, as if he was trying to memorize every line of your face in the throes of passion.

his thumb circled your clit, the pressure increasing, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. "spencer," you gasped, your nails digging into his back. "I'm going to—"

"come for me," he murmured, his voice a command that sent you spiraling over the edge. your body arched off the couch, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you trembling. he watched you intently, his eyes dark with desire as he felt your cunt pulse around him.

spencer's own release followed quickly, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his warmth filling you completely. his eyes never left yours, the connection between you unbroken even as the world around you spun away. your bodies remained joined, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through you both.

for a moment, you simply lay there, panting, your hearts racing in sync. the quiet of the room was a stark contrast to the tumult of emotions inside you. spencer's weight was a comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone in this. that despite the chaos that had entered your life, there was still warmth, still passion.

but reality had a way of intruding, and the sudden buzz of his phone on the coffee table was like a cold shower. he pulled away with a groan, his eyes filled with regret. "i have to go," he murmured, his voice thick with reluctance. "work."

you nodded, understanding all too well the demands of his job. "be safe," you whispered, the words carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air.

spencer kissed you gently, his hand lingering on your cheek before he reluctantly pulled away. with a sigh, he began to gather his clothes, his movements efficient and methodical. you watched him dress, the sight of his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he buttoned it up. his eyes met yours, the warmth of the moment before replaced by the cool detachment of a man preparing to face the world.

you sat up, feeling the ache of his absence as he stepped away. your own clothes lay scattered around the room, a testament to the passion that had consumed you both. with trembling hands, you began to dress, the fabric of your clothes feeling almost foreign against your sensitive skin. the cotton of your shirt was rough against your nipples, still sensitive from his touch.

spencer watched you, his eyes lingering on your body before he turned away, focusing on his own clothes. you could see the struggle in his movements—the desire to stay, to hold you close, warring with the duty that called him away. it was a dance you were both too familiar with, the push and pull of your newfound intimacy and the cold reality of his work.

once dressed, he turned back to you, his expression one of deep apology. "i'm sorry," he said, his voice low and filled with regret.

you took a deep breath, trying to still the racing of your heart. "it's okay," you assured him, knowing he had no control over the demands of his job. "you have to go."

spencer nodded, his eyes searching yours one last time before he bent down to kiss you—a kiss that was at once gentle and filled with the promise of more to come. it was a kiss that said 'i'll be back' without uttering the words. his hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. "i'll check on you later," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you watched him go, the sound of the door closing behind him like a final punctuation on the intensity of the past few minutes. your body still hummed with the aftermath of pleasure, but your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. what had just happened between you? was this a one-time thing, a product of the fear and tension of the past weeks? or was it the beginning of something more?

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moonvis · 10 months ago

Text

I NEED YOU ALIVE

Steve Rogers x F! Avenger! Reader Incl. Sam, Tony, and Bucky x Natasha Summary: Steve can't wait to propose, but when a mission goes south, he's not sure he'll get the chance after all Warnings: Angst to fluff! Some cursing. Some blood and injuries. 2.5k words.

Steve carefully opened the blue velvet box in his hand, revealing a simple yet beautiful engagement ring. Light reflected onto the golden material, a small diamond on top. Steve knew his girl liked it simple, so that was what he got. A warming smile grew on his lips as he imagined the ring perfectly fit on her finger.

Bucky gently nudged at his pal’s side, a smirk present on his face. Steve chuckled as a response, speaking in a low voice, “This is it Buck. I’m proposing tonight after the mission.” It was Y/N and Steve’s two-year anniversary after all, but unfortunately they had to go on a last-minute mission before celebrating.

“M’ happy for you pal. She’s gonna love it.”

Steve had been carrying the ring in his picket ever since he bought it, looking at it every now and then - even at the risk of Y/N spotting him. Bucky had reminded it of such many times before, “Might put it away before your girl sees it.”

The whole team were gathered inside the jet, but luckily Y/N was sat opposite of the super soldiers, occupied in a conversation with Natasha. Steve let out a happy sigh and closed the box, “You know how it is Buck…”

Bucky did indeed understand; he understood the excitement Steve was feeling, the thought of spending the rest of a lifetime with the love of his life. The former Winter Solider had proposed to Natasha just a few months earlier anyways.

Bucky patted the blonde’s shoulder, “One more mission, and she’s all yours.”

“Right.” The Captain put the box back in his most secure pocket and got up. Time to get over with the mission. Walking into the middle of the jet, he spoke up, “Okay team. One last recall on the mission plan.”

Y/N gave him her immediate attention, admiring Steve in his Captain America stance. Steve gave her a small smile before he continued talking, “Y/N and Nat will get the files. Buck, Sam and I will go for the hostages, while Tony-” Steve turned to the billionaire, “You work as a shield around the base. This is a last-minute mission, which means we gotta be prepared for anything. Sam will back you up if needed.”

“Dream team,” Y/N commented from beside Natasha, giving her a pound, “Let’s go.”

Tony turned in his seat and prepared the jet for arrival, just outside the Hydra base, “Check your gear everyone! We land in three.”

As the they landed, Steve guided for Y/N to come over, which se gladly did. The Captain put his shield on his back, before caressing his girlfriend’s face, his brows softening as they made eye contact, “Be careful, okay? You know I hate separating from you on missions. So please, don’t take any unnecessary risks. I need you back in one piece.”

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Steve was referring to the upcoming secret proposal, thinking of the ring hidden in his pocket. He needed his future bride to make it back from the mission alive.

“That goes both ways,” Y/N raised a brow and smiled, “But yes, I promise.” With a quick kiss, they bid each other good luck before Y/N jogged off to join Natasha.

“Come on pal, let’s go.” Bucky said form beside the Captain. Steve couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy though, watching his girl disappear out of sight. Shrugging it off, he nodded at Bucky before leading the way.

Y/N and Natasha snuck up to the first entrance where four Hydra agents were guarding the door. Y/N looked over at the redhead mouthing, “Element of surprise?”, gaining a nod in response. On three, Y/N launched forward and kicked one man to the ground, before ducking as another tried to shoot her.

Natasha was already slamming the shooter into a third Hydra agent, while Y/N knocked out the guy beneath her. Finishing off, she shot the fourth and last guy running at Natasha. The girls gave each other a pound before continuing further into the base.

“Y/N look!”

Y/N turned to face Natasha, her eyes following whatever the redhead was pointing at. A staircase, leading up to a glass covered room holding what seemed like computers.

“Just what we were searching for,” Y/N winked and ran towards the stairs, stopping when a pair of Hydra agents suddenly appeared at the top. Y/N was a quick and precise shooter when it came to guns, not arrows, that was Barton’s specialty.

Fast, she brought out her gun and shot both agents in their head before they got the chance to react. Natasha came up beside her, impressed, “Not bad, but save some for me, will you?”

“Then you gotta keep up,” Y/N teased. Natassha rolled her eyes and followed her friend up the stairs. As they reached the computer-room, the coast seemed to be clear, with no booby-traps in sight.

“Awesome. Go do your thing,” Y/N winked at Natasha who entered the room, before she spoke into the comms, “Mission report. We found the computer-room.”

“Good. Get those files and stay on guard,” Steve reported back, “We just found the hostages. Getting them out now.”

Natasha was skilled when it came to hacking, so downloading the files were like a baby’s work. It was when they thought they were safe to leave the base, things started to heat up.

“We got the files, heading out now!” Natasha spoke into the comms, following Y/N out of the room.

“Copy that.” The Captain sounded satisfied, “And the hostages are brought to safety. Everyone return to the jet.”

While Tony gave his own report into the comms, the ladies of the team faced a sudden surprise outside the computer-room. Out of nowhere, a gunshot sounded through the hall, followed by the sound of Natasha’s agonizing scream.

She had been hit.

Y/N was quick to react and shot the Hydra agent who had fired and felt a knot in her stomach as she watched her friend fall to the floor. “Nat, shit!” Y/N rushed over and fell to her knees, “Hold still.”

Natasha had been shot through the leg, thick blood flowing out of her wound. Y/N ripped a piece of clothing of her own suit and wrapped it around the redhead’s leg. Bringing a hand up to her comm, her shaking voice spoke up, “Nat’s been hit! We need backup asap!”

“What!?” The frantic voice of Bucky sounded through the comms, “Where are you? I’m coming!”

“We’re just outside the computer room. West part of the base. Please, hurry!” Y/N’s worried voice responded back, before she shifted her attention back to Natasha, “Hold on Nat. Bucky’s coming.”

Natasha was weak, the wound being dangerously deep. The redhead brought out her hand for Y/N to hold, which she instantly accepted. Y/N felt scared, she couldn’t carry Natasha out of there herself, nor would she leave her behind. The last thing she needed was more Hydra agents approaching them in such a vulnerable state.

As if the universe hated them, the voices of more Hydra agents could be heard from downstairs, “They’re up there! Let’s go!”

Shit.

“Guys, hurry! There’s more agents and I can’t deal with them alone with Nat like this!” Y/N yelled into the comms, readying her gun for anything. Right now, protecting Natasha was the only thing she cared about.

“On my way!” Tony said though the comms, his voice stern with a hint of concern.

Steve felt his heart twist and turn, the sickening feeling in his stomach not helping. If he knew his girl correctly, she would do anything in her power to protect Natasha. Even if it meant putting her own life at risk. “Don’t do anything stupid Y/N! We’re on our way!”

“Hold on baby, I’m on my way!” Was Bucky’s words trough the comms. Natasha let out a shaky breath at his voice, clearly getting a bit of relief from it.

As the first Hydra agent made his way up the stairs, Y/N shot him in the head, making him fall into the one coming up right behind him. Y/N got up on her feet and saw at least six more agents running up to get them, “What the fuck?”

“Y/N you need to-” Natasha spoke thought a cough, “Get your ass out of here.”

“Forget it. I’m not leaving you.” Y/N’s voice was stern, so was her stance. As more agents ran towards her, she shot them. One, two and-

Her gun was out of bullets.

In the moment of panic, she took a step back before throwing her gun at the floor. Reaching for her knife, she spoke through the comms again, “My gun’s out, and these bitches keep on coming. Hurry!”

“Fuck, we’re almost there doll!” Steve was panicking. He could run fast alright, but coming from the other side of the base was quite the long way, “Tony!”

“Almost there Cap!”

Taking advantage of Y/N’s moment of distraction, the next Hydra agent tackled her to the floor. She usually managed to take out a guy alone, but as another agent joined in to hold her down, she struggled.

Natasha noticed and couldn’t just lay and watch. The redhead gritted her teeth together and lifted herself slightly off the floor, pointing her gun at one of the agents. Trough her blurred vision, she shot him in the arm. The man screamed in pain and let go of Y/N.

Unfortunately, the Hydra agent realised Natasha was still a threat, even in such a state, and went forward to grab her instead. The man lifted Natasha by the collar and dragged her towards the stairs, pointing his gun at her, “This is what you get little bitch!”

His words grabbed Y/N attention, her eyes widening, “No!”

Everything from there happened so fast. One second she was pushing Natasha out of the way, and the next, she was falling down the stairs with a fresh bullet-wound to her side.

In the moment of tragedy, Iron Man came flying in, catching Y/N only seconds away from having her head slammed on the cold hard ground. Holding her with one hand, he blasted the last remaining agents dead, before finally landing. Tony gently put her down, his mask revealing the distressed features on his face, “My god-”

“Natasha!” The yell and sight of Bucky came in view. He spotted his fiancé at the top of the stairs, not hesitating to get to her side. Right behind came Steve and Sam, having no idea what would meet their eyes.

The exact moment Steve spotted Y/N lying beside Tony, he felt his stomach drop. The Captain rushed to her side, falling onto his knees as dust flew in the air, “Oh my god--”

As Tony put pressure on her wound, Steve brought his hand up to caress her cheek, “Oh my god Y/N, you-”

“M’sorry Stevie…”

“No, don’t you say that!” Steve was panicking, his eyes going up to meet Tony’s, “What do we do?!”

Composing himself, Tony got up from the ground, “She don’t have much time. We need to get her help, asap! I’ll get the jet ready, you bring her.”

Steve felt his breath quickening at Tony’s words. As he watched Iron Man fly off, Steve shifted his attention back to his girl. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke, “I’m sorry doll, but this is gonna hurt.” Steve, as gently as he could, lifted her up in his arms, shutting out her agonizing scream to concentrate.

“Hold on doll, I’m bringing you home,” Steve promised as he ran the fastest he ever had. He watched as his girl grew heavier in his arms, her eyelids trying to fall shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!” Fuck he was worried.

“I’m not losing you today doll, just keep your eyes open, please.” Steve begged as he noticed how quickly his girl faded.

“M’sleepy…” Y/N wasn’t thinking clearly anymore, not feeling much either. She was just happy her last moments would be in the hands of the man she loved.

“No, I can’t let you to that. You need to stay awake, sweetheart. Please.” Steve cried as Y/N’s eyes closed, knowing there was nothing else he could do but run. “No, no, no, Y/N! Stay with me, please!”

As Y/N went completely numb in his hands, the solider screamed out in frustration. The jet was right in front of him, and as soon as he got to lay her body down, he fell to his knees, silent sobs shaking his broad shoulders.

His hand reached into his pocket, fingers tightening around the blue velvet box. She couldn’t die on him, not like this. He still had an important question to ask her.

Tick.

Just like he had been doing for the last few days, Steve sat by her bedside, listening to the monitor telling him she was still alive.

Steve refused to leave her side. Sam had tried to at least make him take a shower after the mission, but he still wouldn't budge. Steve had to be present the exact moment Y/N woke up.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky entered the room, “How’s she doing?”

Steve let out a sigh, letting his eyes leave Y/N for just a moment to look at his friend, “You know… the same.”

“Hey, I could watch her for a while if you need some rest,” Bucky suggested, but the Captain only shoot his head, “You know she’s gonna be mad when she wake up and realises you didn’t take care of yourself.”

“So be it,” Steve stoke his thumb over the soft skin of her hand, “I just can’t leave her side. I thought she was gone Buck. You saw it! Her heart stopped, twice!” Fresh tears streamed down Steve’s face at the memory playing in his head.

The day on the injury, Y/N’s heart stopped twice if not more, and it scared the hell out of Steve. He had to see the world crumbling down before his eyes, only for the universe to prank him. It made him angry. Oh, how he hated Hydra, for almost taking away his future.

Bucky didn’t comment Steve’s words. It could easily have been Natasha in that situation, but Y/N had saved her without hesitation. He would be forever grateful – he just couldn’t bear the thought of his best friend losing the love of his life instead.

Luckily, Y/N was recovering.

“You look like shit…” A crocked voice came from the room. Steve’s head shot up in surprise, eyes landing on her beautiful ones looking back at him. Bucky smiled and rushed out of the room, going to get a doctor.

“Y/N? Oh my-” Steve gasped, rapid breaths escaping him, “Fuck, Y/N, I thought I lost you.” Steve reached forward and cupped her cheek, not even bothering to hold back the sobs that followed.

“M’sorry…” Y/N let out a shaky breath, still adjusting to the light and pain in her stomach, “And uh- how long was I out for?”

“Five days,” Steve responded, still in disbelief his girl was finally awake, “Thank god you’re okay, doll. I love you so damn much.”

Y/N was a little taken back by the number of days but shook it off as she watched Steve’s broken expression. She tapped at the empty spot beside her, guiding for Steve to lay down. He hesitated for a moment, scared of hurting her, but accepted when she looked at him with pleading eyes.

“How’s Natasha doing?” Y/N asked as she remembered the redhead.

“She’s okay,” Steve sounded a bit hesitant, “Thanks to you I’ve heard.”

“Steve… I’m sorry for being reckless, I just-”

Steve sighed and reassured her, “It’s okay, I’m just glad to have you back alive. We’ve been at this one before; I’d do the same for Bucky and so on.”

Y/N chuckled and rested her head against his shoulder, hearing his rapid heartbeat.

Letting out a shaky breath, Steve turned to face her properly, his eyes softening as he looked at her smile. He reached into his pocket to grab the blue velvet box he had so patiently waited to give her.

“Y/N, this is not how I imagined doing this, but-” Steve brought the box forwards. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight, her hand coming up to cover her gasping mouth, “Steve…”

Steve opened the box to reveal the beautiful ring, his eyes plastered on her the whole time. Her widening smile and teary eyes made his heart melt, “After almost loosing you, I can’t wait any longer. Please, will you do me the biggest honour of becoming my wife?”

“Oh my gosh! Yes!” Y/N cheered with the little energy she had and let Steve put the perfectly fit ring on her finger, “It’s beautiful Steve!”

Steve let out a soft chuckle, “I know this isn’t an ideal way to propose but-”

“It’s perfect!” Y/N assured him and reached forward to press a kiss on his lips. Though as she moved, a sudden pain overwhelmd her stomach, “Fuck!”

“Shit, are you okay?” Steve went straight into being protective, watching his fiancé shut her eyes in pain. As she didn’t respond, he grew worried, at least, until she started giggling. “Fuck that hurt.”

“You scared me doll,” Steve let out a sigh and reached forward to plant a kiss on top of her head, “You sure know how to pain an old man’s heart.”

Before Y/N got the chance to respond, a doctor came into the room, Bucky following suit, “Sorry for ruining the moment, but we need to check if everything is okay.”

“That’s fine, I know you’ll take care of my fiancé.” Steve kissed the top of her head and left the bed, going to stand beside Bucky.

The brunette punched Steve in the arm, “Now you can finally stop the obsessive ring gazing. I’m happy for you pal.”

“Thanks Buck.” Steve's eyes didn’t leave her figure as he stood there. He watched as she laughed with the doctor, a smile plastered on her face, even though she just woke up from a fay day long coma. She was such a ray of sunshine – she warmed his heart.

Oh, and to believe she would be his for ever.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romnoff #natasha romanoff x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark #sam wilson #captain america #chris evans #sebastian stan #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #chris evans imagine #captain america imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #chris evans angst

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esouliie · 11 months ago

Text

TO SEEK FORGIVENESS

– pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis: recklessness requires a certain type of punishment, but you can only take so much.

– warnings: strap (r!receiving), breath play?, wanda is rough & reader is crying lol, aftercare! (18+)

“Baby, what was that? You scared me out there!”

Four words: What. A. Shit. Show.

On an undercover mission, you were ambushed by a swarm of HYDRA agents. Cover blown to pieces from Lord knows what. You had it under control -being an ex Widow meant you knew how to win, you knew how to kill - but after a rare bullet nearly missed your shoulder, you realised you didn’t and were way over your head.

You should’ve listen to Steve when he told you to fall back.

Luckily you weren’t alone. Your girlfriend being the ever powerful Scarlet Witch was able to swoop in and save the day as usual.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You reply sheepishly, brushing your fingers against Wanda’s, longing for her soothing touch but unsure if you were allowed to do so.

Wanda was always unreadable in times like this, when your life was threatened simply from doing your job. Sometimes she’d hold you close offering nothing but words of comfort for your effort, and other times she’d ice you out completely, too upset with you for being reckless.

“Prove it.” She moves her hands away from yours and places them on your hips, tilting her head slightly to the side as she wets her lips.

Your eyes drop to her lips and back up. “What do you mean?”

Not liking your response, Wanda clicks her tongue. Her legs carry her forward, forcing your back to the wall. She brings her palm level with your eyes, the other pinning your hips against the cold surface.

“I said,” her head curves round to your ear, “prove it.”

Something inside you clicked and immediately you rush forward to press your lips against hers. As if she knew, she grips onto the back of your neck, preventing you from reaching her.

A hiss slithers between your teeth at the sudden ache but you don’t try to break her hold. Wanda smirks at your obedience.

Her hold doubles in pressure as she forces you to your knees, not once breaking eye contact.

She cups your face, her thumb brushing gently over your bruised lips, fingertips dancing across the broken skin. Her other hand fiddles with the baby hairs at your neck, a silent apology for the pain she caused.

"So pretty." She coos just before grabbing your chin and bending down for a kiss, your bloodied lip long forgotten.

Her lips on yours were enough to divert your attention away from her hand slithering around your front to cup you through your shirt. The unexpected pleasure rendering you helpless under the woman’s grip. But, she detaches from you far too quickly and towers high and mighty over your crumpled body.

"Take these off for me."

Her eyes flick down to her pants, instructing you to remove them while a hand weaves through your hair, encouraging you to join in on her little game. Not wanting to disappoint any further, you swiftly pull the fabric down her sculpted legs, alongside her underwear, until she's bare from the waist down.

Wetness stained across her thighs. Your head spins, senses overwhelmed by her. All of her.

"Can you show me how sorry you are?”

—

“It’s a real shame,” Wanda’s hips slap against your thighs, crude noises of wet skin upon each other overpower the sounds of shared pleasure,“You’ve been so good recently.”

This has been going on for the last … you don’t know how many hours. She won’t let you finish, always stopping just before you can descend.

A maddening cycle with no respite in sight.

She leans her weight on top of you, thighs trembling as you try to stay up right. “So disappointed, baby.”

Her nails dig into your hips, marking the softness there, almost breaking the skin.

You try to usher out an apology, but your attempt is only met with Wanda’s hand shoving your head into the pillow under you.

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

With that, her cruelty returns.

The salt in your tears burn against the friction of your hot skin and damp pillow. Protests flood your mind as it becomes a struggle to breath. Pleasure conflicted by the immense passion of pain, both thoroughly entwined as you’re -well- thoroughly fucked.

It was too much.

Too much pressure between your legs.

Too much sensitivity that your nerves were set alight.

You reach back, pushing her stomach away in an attempt to slow her down. Your weakened arm failing to make purchase on her flushed skin. She doesn’t stop but her thrusts falter, slow and gentle instead of fast and brutal.

Finely tuned to the sound of you. She can always understand what your body says when your words can’t.

No words are shared but Wanda knows your body has had enough. She pulls out, removing her weight slowly before ridding herself of the harness, guiding you to lay on your back. Moving to your side, she leans over your figure, brushing the damp hairs away from your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice hoarse from your cries. The realisation of Wanda’s disappointment sinking deeper. It leaves you restless, a war is waged for her comfort with your mind as your greatest enemy.

You don’t deserve her reassurance.

“I know, baby. I know." Her distracting hands trail patterns down your arms, stopping along the way to sink deep into your sore muscles.

She heads for your stomach and pauses, returning her gaze to yours. Confusion etched across your face, as you watch Wanda decide what to do next.

She smiles but says nothing. Her hand starting its course downwards.

You take in deep breathes and lay perfectly still, wanting to be good, needing to be good for her.

“One last time.” She whispers gently, her lashes flutter as she searches your face for any hesitation.

“Be a good girl.”

Her touch, unlike last time, was light. A kind tongue savouring the taste of you before nimble fingers work wonders against your nerves.

It didn’t take long.

You came with a short gasp, the air suffocating deep within your lungs as you hold your breath. Wanda carries you through it, arms steady in comparison to your trembling figure.

Back to Earth, with heavy eyes and all, you notice Wanda’s messy ponytail as it trickles against her pebbled nipples. Her unblemished skin stretches far; full chest, long legs, strong arms.

A porcelain canvas.

Her beauty never fails to amaze you even after all these years.

She calls your name, grabbing your attention. That beautiful smile across her lips speaks volumes.

All had been forgiven.

Raised arms signal for her to come settle on your chest and she wastes no time as her breath hits your neck.

Heavy breasts brush against yours as she moves. Your hips involuntarily buck into hers. She laughs before leaving chaste kisses under your ear.

Comfort seeps into your bones, holding onto Wanda like this calms like nothing else. Your eyelids grow even heavier.

"Kiss?" You pout so cutely she can't resist. She presses her lips to yours, teeth occasionally grazing, unable to contain your smiles.

“I love you.” She confesses, not waiting for an answer as she drags her kisses all over your face, and you giggle as you surrender to her attack.

Your heart swoons at the sight of her kissing down your chest before she rests against your stomach.

You promise to be more careful.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff

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