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dollniu · 7 months ago

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late nite spicy headcanons 🌃💋 — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS — short NSFW headcanons for ur pleasure 🎀

PAIRINGS — sukuna x f!reader, gojo x f!reader, nanami x f!reader, toji x f!reader, ino x f!reader, choso x f!reader, higuruma x f!reader

CONTENT — degradation, praise, blood play, oral, throat fucking, fingering, orgasm control, begging, masochism, sadism, raw (no protection, no lube), hickeys/marks, cyber sex, etc!

A/N — MDNI 🔞, if u have any characters you want headcanons of, lmk ! 💋

SUKUNA — “you’re my pathetic little play thing, doll.”

- there’s nothing sukuna loves more than seeing you at his feet, begging to be fucked, touched anything. and neglecting your desires only makes him crave you more

- he is absolutely cruel during sex, only using you as practically a sex toy and making you cum over and over again

- sukuna is loves torturing you, making you cry from overstimulation while he’s fucking you while you beg him to stop but he knows damn well that you want to be screaming his name alllll night

- he def has 2 dicks and he uses that shit to his advantage, double penetration EVERY. TIME.

- he bites. hard. like till you’re bleeding and he’s licking up that sweet crimson blood, savoring the taste of you

- sukuna calls you disgusting names, making you feel practically worthless and only living as his personal sex toy!

GOJO — “yeah? you want me to keep going? too bad, sweetheart.”

- gojo is the biggest tease you’ll ever meet, especially in bed. he’ll edge you for what feels like hours just to see you begging on your knees to cum

- he has a collection of sex toys he uses on you, a box sits besides the bed you share full of various dildos, vibrators, rose toys, you name it!

- whenever he has a bad day, you can tell just by the way he barges into your room and rips your clothes off. he doesn’t spare a second before he’s already inside you, fucking the absolute living shit out of you bc gojo likes it rough.

- he loves being overstimulated! whether it’s you bouncing on his dick, giving him the most toe-curling blow kob imaginable, or hand jobs that follow with him moaning your name, he fucking loves the dizziness and utter ecstasy of it

- there’s nothing gojo loves more than shower sex, or even bath sex! fucking you against the marble shower wall with the hot steam making it hard to breathe, he’s not stopping till he’s finished with you 🙏

- eye contact. whenever he stares down at you while he’s mercilessly fucking you and gazing at the mess he’s made upon him, it drives him absolutely crazy. he even forces you to look at him, grabbing your face while whispering in your ear “you’re mine.”

NANAMI — “i’ll be gentle at first, but i dont think i can control myself when you’re looking at me like that..”

- nanami has a breeding kink. cumming inside you and thrusting further into you just to see his cum spilling out of you is one of the best pleasures in life !

- hes very gentle and never wants to hurt you, but if you tell him to be rough.. oh he’s rough. like breaking the bed and making you cum five times consecutively kinda rough

- usually, he’s in his office working all day and usually night. so seeing an explicit photo of you with your tits out on deck will 100% make him call off of work just to go home and fuck the shit out of you

- he loves fucking you with your back on his office desk, looking down at you while he’s pounding you, seeing your eyes roll back from pleasure, it only makes him fuck you even harder 💋

- seeing you wearing nothing but his dress shirt sends him into an actual frenzy, something about you wearing his clothes never fails to make him hard. (usually leading to him eating you out from underneath the shirt 🤭)

TOJI — “such a filthy whore, taking my dick so good, huh?”

- toji is the KING of raw sex. like he refuses to wear a condom because the feeling of your pussy perfectly wrapped around his huge dick is fucking heavenly

- he lovesss throat fucking, ur head is basically the same size as his dick and he knows damn well you can’t take all of him but he makes it work 🫣

- hair pulling, this man will be fucking you from the back and pull at your hair to force you to look at him. “such a pretty little slut, you like it when i fuck you?”

- he will fuck you wherever whenever, if you’re in the kitchen? he’s fucking you on the kitchen counter. in the shower? he’s fucking you against the shower marble walls. in bed? he’s breaking the bed.

- he will leave hickeys and bite marks ALL OVER YOU. especially on your neck because he wants to make sure everyone knows that he’s yours and yours only. plus he knows all your sweet spots and the exact places that make you arch your back.

- loves getting his hair played while he’s eating pussy fr, he doesnt admit it cuz he says it’s embarrassing but he def gets a hard on from it

INO — “are you close? i’m close too..”

- ino is a switch, there’s no doubt about that. sometimes, he loves how overstimulated he gets when you’re giving him a blow job or a handy, basically begging you to let him cum. or he’s pounding you like it’s so tomorrow, making you cum over and over again.

- he’s very auditory, he becomes a complete babbling mess when he’s having sex with you which always results in low whimpers and moaning your name. yes, he is a loud in bed guys.

- he’s super experimental, he’s tried basically everything with you and wants to try more! he surprisingly liked getting fingered which he’s too embarrassed to admit but still begs for it in the end

- ino likes being called a good boy ��‍💫

- he likes betting whos gonna cum first, which usually results in the nastiest roughest sex of edging and begging to cum and loud moans and pleads, his favorite of course

- he always makes you laugh during sex, like this man will put on a whole show because we all know his dramatic ass will not keep his mouth shut 😭

CHOSO — “please.. keep going— don’t stop please!”

- choso will do absolutely anything to make you feel good, he CUMS just from eating you out and hearing your sweet moans 💋 doing literally anything to make you scream his name is enough to make him die happy

- he’s a crier, like on his knees begging for you to let him cum with wet tears flowing from his eyes from overstimulation. he absolutely loves it when you neglect him of his wishes no matter how torturous it is

- he LOVES lacey clothing, whether it’s lacey bra and underwear sets, lacey sleeping dresses, he won’t be able to contain himself and fuck you right there on the spot

- orgasm control, one of his most loved (and hated) things in bed. whether it’s you or him, he loves it when you stop just before he’s gonna cum just for you to ride him faster and rougher 🤭 and if you’ve been a good girl, he might just let you cum too 🎀

- he can fuck you over and over again till your sopping, pathetic, overstimulated mess. like at least 10 rounds because he can’t get enough of youu

HIGURUMA — “you’re so good for me.. let me let you feel good too, hun.”

- we love our big nosed king, and as we all know what doja cat said— we riding his mf nose 😫 he loves it when you sit on his face with your thighs wrapped around his head, hearing the loud moans come out from you when he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue, absolutely glorious

- he WILL call you a good girl and shower you in praise and soft kisses, this doesn’t mean he won’t fuck you like a whore though!

- when he’s away at work, he’s usually gone all day all night— sometimes not coming home at all :(( because of this, having cyber sex practically every night has been beneficial because higuruma can’t stand not seeing you completely naked for a single day. jerking off on call together, seeing each other pleasure yourselves while dirty talking.. he can’t get enough of it.

- bath tub sex (without his suit on this time) is just what our hard-working lawyer needs after a long day. riding his dick in the hot steaming water.. he can’t get enough of how good you feel wrapped around his dick like that

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caffeinewitchcraft · 5 months ago

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AITA for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a scare on my husband?

EDIT: For those of you coming here from my brother’s post (X) to shit on me, you look like idiots. Try to have an original thought and really contemplate who’s telling the truth after hearing both sides.

I (32f) am one of three siblings. We come from a very well off family. My dad is a former Cryptid and he pioneered the Hook Man in the 70s, so he still gets residuals off of that. We grew up very comfortable and with the ability to do anything we wanted in life. My older brother went to a very prestigious school and my dad gave him the money for tuition. Because my older brother got scholarships, he was able to save some of that money. Right now he works in human tech (very lucrative), but his long-term plan is to use the money to start a Cyber Spook business once he is satisfied with his knowledge foundation.

I ended up taking a gap year before going to community college, but I never felt anything click. I worked part-time jobs spinning out scarer costumes and even did some part-time work as a slasher before deciding it wasn’t for me. I finally found my calling when I offered to help cater for my high school reunion, and now I run a fairly successful catering business.

When it came time for my younger brother, “Steve,” to get his money, he didn’t tell anyone what he was going to use it for. He was working as a Slasher at a small firm in town. We all assumed he’d either go to Scare School or invest the money to start a business like our older brother did.

So when Steve showed up to Halloween dinner one day, six feet taller with extra joints in his arms and legs, we were all shocked.

Dad was furious. He gave us all the same talk about the scare industry when we got our first part-time jobs documenting missions at his company. He told us that scare work was hard and backbreaking. We couldn’t buy our way into it or use his connections to become successful. If we were interested in it, we had to work our way up from the ground like he did. If we didn’t, we’d more than likely end up dead at the hands of a final girl.

He especially emphasized that mods had to be considered carefully and were NOT a substitute for skill.

Steve thought they were. When his company didn’t pay him back for his body modification AND didn’t promote him from Slasher to Regional Nightmare, he quit. But the surgeries drained his cash and he couldn’t afford his apartment anymore. He had to move back in with Mom and Dad. As always, Mom totally coddled him. She said that he didn’t have to pay rent and agreed with whatever he said when he’d go on these long tirades about his former company.

I could tell Dad wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but he’s never been able to go against Mom. So he mostly kept his mouth shut though he did try to get Steve a job at his old company. However, last I heard, Steve was set against anything corporate and was spending a dozen hours a day driving around using the app SlashDash to find jobs.

About a year and a half ago, I was over for dinner with Steve, Mom and Dad. Steve was talking about work. He said SlashDash wasn’t working out for him and was taking too many fees out. I offered advice since I’d done Slashing in high school. I recommended sites like Scarework and Midnighterr to get more gigs.

Mom told me I interrupted Steve. She gestured for him to continue and tell me about his exciting new setup.

Steve told me he was beyond the sites I recommended. He said he’d bought a scanner so he could listen to broadcasts of active corporate missions. When those fail, he arrives on scene to kill any straggling humans before the scare company in question can send a cleanup crew. And since he’s a Slasher on their scene, they have to give him emergency pay for doing it. It’s a total ambulance-chaser, bottom-feeder move.

Dad was just staring at his plate, not saying anything, but I could tell he was ashamed of Steve. Steve was bragging about being a vulture in the profession Dad helped build.

I asked Steve if he was proud of himself for living off of leftovers. Steve blew up at me, but so did Mom. She chided me for not respecting my brother’s hard work and that his idea to get a scanner was genius, not predatory.

After that dinner, Steve and I rarely talked. Most of the news I got about him came from our older brother bitching about Steve badgering him for scare connections or Mom bragging about Steve killing and “meeting quota.” She would get very cold with me when I told her he was finishing a quota someone else started and not doing his own work. She told me if I couldn’t respect Steve, then I was welcome to not come over while he lived with her.

(Yes, Steve’s always been the golden child.)

I stopped interfering with Steve and focused on my own life. Shortly after, I met my wonderful fiancé “Reginald” while catering an event at Dad’s old company. Reginald is the head of sanitation and he’s the one who gets sent out to clean up any unexpected events during a Scare (like any magical residue or body parts that can’t be explained away through human means). He used to want to be a Cryptid, but he’s got a heart condition that prevents him from working in the field. He says that he’s happy being the “janitor” and happier being with me 😊

Reginald and I got engaged after only eight months of dating. Dad always says that when you know, you know. I invited everyone in my family to an engagement party. Steve didn’t bother answering the invitation. Even though Steve and I weren’t on good terms, I was still hurt when he didn’t show.

When I confronted him about it afterwards, he said that he’d been promoted to Regional Nightmare and he was patrolling his territory, and that’s why he couldn’t come. I asked him what company he was working for, and he said he was still using the scanner.

I pointed out that he couldn’t be a Regional Nightmare without a state license since only the state can assign territories. He started going on and on about being his own “Monster” (and let me tell you, extra joints DOESN’T make you a Monster, those guys are way more committed) and that he had passed the state exam.

When I told Reginald about my brother calling himself a Regional Nightmare, he was concerned. He works closely with the legal department, and he said that Steve is opening himself up to lawsuits by declaring public slashing grounds as his “territory.” He offered to talk to Steve.

We went over to Mom and Dad’s house together to confront him. Dad didn’t know he was calling himself a Regional Nightmare and he went pale when I told them why we were there. Reginald explained to Steve and Mom that being certified was different than being licensed. Legally, Steve is a Slasher even if he can control shadows now (which is a VERY expensive talent to acquire if you aren’t born with it. I think Mom may have paid for it).

The conversation didn’t go well. Steve said a lot of nasty things about Reginald not hacking it as Slasher and claimed he was just jealous. He picked on Reginald’s health which I had me seeing red. I asked Steve what there was to be jealous of since he still mooches off of our parents? Mom got involved and it went downhill from there.

All this to say that I didn’t expect Steve to show up at my gender reveal party less than 5 months later.

Reginald and I weren’t planning on kids this early, but we knew it was meant to be as soon as I got that pregnancy test back. We decided to put off our wedding so that our baby can be part of the ceremony that makes us a family. That being said, I did still have a lot of things ordered for the wedding so I turned the day into a baby shower/gender reveal instead.

That brings us to the party my lovely brother wrote about. First of all, he wasn’t invited by me. Mom invited him, and when I found out, I wasn’t happy with her, considering he never apologized to Reginald after our last fight.

Reginald was stuck at work (some idiot brought together a whole summer camp of final girls and the aftermath was brutal) so I had to force myself to be a good hostess. It was mostly fine. We have good friends and my older brother was very kind in helping me with some of the baby games we were planning to play when Reginald finally got there.

Steve, however, was NOT helpful.

He was annoying the whole time. He messed with the kitchen and he hounded the guests. I’m PREGNANT and the smell of raw meat triggers my gag reflex. He took the meat off the heat without me noticing and basically prevented me from eating lunch with everyone else.

Additionally, Steve claimed in his post that the party was dying??? Reginald and Dad have a lot of friends in common so the party did NOT die. They were all interested in talking to Dad. Dad’s voice is very quiet and raspy from strain over the years, so everyone was being quiet to hear him better. Steve was the one practically screaming over him to talk about his scummy job. The new Hook Man who succeeded Dad was there and Steve basically treated the poor man like a novice even though he’s a Cryptid.

Reginald finally got home and I could tell he was exhausted when I met him at the door. He still put on a smile for me though and said he didn’t need to miss out even when I told him it would be okay. He wanted to be there in our big moment to celebrate our family. He went upstairs to change.

I went back to the guests to tell them that we would start the games soon. That’s when I heard Reginald scream and fall down the stairs.

I’ll never forget the look on Reginald’s face. He was lying at the base of the stairs and looked like he was dying. He was gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. I was terrified his heart was giving up. I asked Hook Man to call an ambulance.

That’s when Steve started laughing.

I lost it. I screamed at Steve to get out. He told me to calm down, he’d just scared Reginald a little bit as a joke. I told him he knew about Reginald’s heart condition and that it was incredibly disrespectful to scare my fiancé in our own house.

He said he didn’t mean to scare him that bad, but that he was just better at it than he thought. His scares were too powerful. He seemed smug and was still laughing.

I accused him of intentionally hurting Reginald because of the licensing versus certification argument we had. I said he was a bully and an idiot.

Mom jumped in and said it was an accident.

Dad FINALLY said something. He shadow-walked (the first time in YEARS) up the stairs and hooked Steve by the neck. He dragged all twelve feet of him down the stairs and told him to get out.

Steve said, “For what? It’s not my fault that weak-hearted son of a bitch can’t take a joke.”

Dad lost it. He told Steve a REAL scarer wouldn’t use their abilities like that on their own families. He told Mom and Steve it didn’t matter if he meant it as a joke. The fact is he used his scare tactics on a layperson, and he could get blacklisted from the profession for it.

Dad kicked Steve out and told him he wasn’t welcome back into the basement until he got a REAL job. Steve kept arguing, but the paramedics arrived then and I lost track of the rest of it.

I went with Reginald to the hospital where Reginald insisted we both get checked out. The stress wasn’t good for the baby and doctor told me it might be best to go on maternity leave sooner rather than later. Reginald is also going to be taking a leave from work. He had a heart attack because of my brother.

Things could have ended worse, but they didn’t end well. I told my parents that I refuse to have Steve at my wedding or even to see my child after they’re born (and now I STILL don’t know the gender! Only our older brother knows since he got the gender reveal cake).

Mom started to protest, but Dad said he understood. He said that both he and Mom just wanted me to be happy and healthy and that they would take care of Steve.

So now I leave it up to you. Having read both of our posts, who do you think is the real asshole? My brother for being “proud” of scaring my fiancé into a heart attack at our baby’s gender reveal party? Or me for never talking to said brother again for the health of my future family?

AITA?

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Thanks for reading! If you'd like to support me and/or see these stories a week before I post them here, please check me out on Patreon (X)!

See you next week!

This week's story is based on this (x) prompt from Writing-prompt-s:

You are a person who covers your counter space in clutter and inadvertently makes a shrine to a long forgotten god who shows up to thank you.

#my writing #reddit parody #aita reddit parody

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asknarashikari · 2 years ago

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Hm, since you did a Gira/Yanma kabedon... how about one with Himeno and Rita?

Jeremy: *gasp* Is this the elusive heated drama between women that I keep hearing about?

Gira: Oh my god, the intensity... there's really nothing like great lesbian tension...

Yanma: *pretends not to be interested but is in fact deeply amused by Himeno's reaction*

Kaguragi: *is slightly worried by the interest his sister is showing in the lesbian action*

Meanwhile, Himeno is blushing extremely hard and Rita is confused because she just asked if Himeno wanted to go shopping for Moffun merch with her XD

#ohsama sentai king ohger #rita kanisuka #himeno ran #rita/himeno #ask #cyber-x-life

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prompt-heaven · 7 months ago

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the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season.

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel

historical

hybrid

mafia / mob

magic

maid / butler

mechanic

modern

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist

time travel

treasure hunter

vampire

werewolf

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole

dry humping / thigh riding

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing

food play

footjob

forced orgasm

formal wear

free use

glory hole

glove kink

hand kink

handjob

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation

sexting / phone sex

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction

art come to life

basement wife

being paralysed

blackmail

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house

haunted object

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist

magical healing

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

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scarletcomalies · 23 days ago

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the outside world has failed you

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Word count: 6,253

Warnings: 18+ content, mention of cockroaches and bedbugs, mention of contract-killing, Natasha x Reader, I criticize the church a lot, blasphemy, caning as a punishment, manipulation, masochism, oral sex, edging, dacryphilia, strap-on usage, hair-pulling, slamming, degrading, angst, fluff.

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for disappearing, but in so few months, so much has happened. It has taken a toll on me, and I was in no mood for anything, in many ways. I am recovering, though! I love it here and I'm glad I was able to write a little something hehe. Watching AHS Asylum for the fourth time does things to you. 😮‍💨

Sister Wanda Maximoff didn't make your plan to take advantage of the church as easy as you thought it would be.

You were not going to endure another god-awful day in that abyss you called life. You simply could not. Nothing particularly happened, you simply collapsed.

Your job in this economy did not allow you to support rent, food, services, all that went with being independent. So many exhausting hours for so little pay. Just so when you finally returned home, the first thing you saw were multiple eviction notices on your door, reminding you that you were on the verge of being homeless.

So, when you opened your door with push, the inside was not very welcoming either, as the holes in your furniture and under your broken sink were the perfect place for cockroaches to breed in droves, causing you to find a few over here and there. At least they lived rent free, you thought.

You ate microwavable or precooked food, the cheapest you could find, and proceeded to go to sleep, hoping the bedbugs wouldn't cause you any more health problems than you already had from the quality of sleep and food you provided your body with.

And then, you slept four hours, you got up to work, you came back home, you repeated.

Well, the sole exception was your upstairs neighbor, Natasha Romanoff. A Russian immigrant on the run from the authorities for her involvement as an accomplice to Clint Barton, a notorious contract killer. Barton, lacking the courage to face imprisonment with dignity, betrayed his loyal partner, declaring, "If I go down, you go down with me".

Now a fugitive, Natasha cut and dyed her hair blonde and resorted to phone scams to survive. “Fucking cyber education”, you could hear her yell from downstairs, usually followed by the sound of her cell phone hitting the ground (your ceiling). You deduced it was because fewer and fewer people were falling for the bullshit of a $500,000 prize.

The sex with her was good, too good to be true. You weren't happy about her misfortune, but you were grateful to whoever was smart enough not to fall for that classic scam, because you knew that after that, she would get to take out her frustration on you as soon as you got home from work. That was the only means by which you could secrete a little dopamine, a little... happiness.

“I hate this life,” you once commented, clinging to her as she rode out the ground-breaking orgasm she gave you.

“Hmmm, bullshit,” she growled. ”I can't go out and buy fucking cigarretes without the fear of some asshole recognizing me from the wanted signs and ratting me out,” you could feel her back muscles tensing again. “I can't engage in anything too scandalous, legal or illegal, because any false move will take me back to Russia. And don't make me detail what prison is like in Russia,” she added, quickening her movements and panting slightly. Your eyes rolled, and against your will, the need began to simmer inside you once again. “Don't come and tell me your life is difficult. Figure it out! God... damn it!”

“What do you propose I do?” You asked her, once the overstimulation of two orgasms in a row had subsided enough to allow you to formulate something more than whimpers and moans.

“Go to the nuns congregation,” she shrugged, as she buttoned her pants. They were somewhat tight, which made visible the bulge formed by the strap-on she used on you.

“Fuck you!” You exclaimed.

“I'm serious. They love to feel like they're saving souls,” she justified. “Tell them you want to let God into your life, and just like that you get three meals a day and a warm bed. You deserve a chance in life."

Okay, maybe you could have gone on to apply for other jobs and in one of them you might've been lucky to get hired, but your day-to-day life had mentally drained you so much that you didn't think you were capable of making one more effort to survive.

It wasn't fair. The people working in the church enjoyed every comfort simply by feeding people's beliefs in something greater. They stood before crowds reading teachings they often didn't apply to their own lives, but that didn't matter. All they needed to do was make people feel good about themselves for sacrificing one hour of their Sunday to listen. People gave money to the church for this. They granted the church privileges for this, like tax exemption. Meanwhile, you did pay your taxes.

Natasha was right. If a simple practice of a religion was going to give you all that, more than your skills or abilities would, you might as well take it. After all, it was divine justice to privilege yourself from the church that privileged itself from the people.

Everything went smoothly, for you were a master in words and conviction. If only you had the opportunity to go to college, you would be using those skills to build a career of your liking, maybe laws or literature. But there you were, reorienting the reason for the misfortunes in your life to a motive to strengthen your faith. You even talked about a dream where you received a message where God commanded you to serve Him, and you dropped a couple of tears to make it believable. They loved it!

From then on, your days were consumed by correspondence lessons, spiritual readings that stirred nothing within you, and the hollow act of pretending to pray mentally. It was excruciatingly monotonous, devoting yourself to something that doesn’t align with the core of who you were. However, the only solace came from the feeling of a full stomach, the embrace of a bed where you could finally surrender to real rest, and the relief of having left behind the life that once tormented you.

If that weren’t enough, Natasha remained present in your life. There was no love, perhaps not even affection, but there was familiarity. You were each other's person to look forward to after an exhausting, unsuccesful day.

Therefore, every night, she would appear at your window, her wide smile showing beneath the shadow of her hood.

She would fuck you hard, keeping in mind the exciting fact that, despite covering your mouth with her firm hand, a moan could probably be heard if she dared to let go or if you didn't control yourself.

The danger of someone discovering an Aspirant being thrusted deep by another woman whose reward for finding her exceeded a million dollars gave you the most delicious orgasms you had ever had in your life.

All your needs were taken care of, and all you had to do was pretend that this was your calling.

Until Sister Wanda Maximoff noticed your lack of interest. The other Aspirants glowed with marvel, their eyes burning with the will to learn during every lesson. They bombarded her with so many questions that each class stretched at least an extra half hour. But overall, they worshiped her as the living embodiment of what they could only dream to become.

But you remained sitting quietly, your gaze steady but lacking the usual awe radiating from your classmates. It wasn't shyness, for Sister Wanda had taught many shy Aspirants before, it was as if you existed on a separate plane of existence, observing from a distance instead of immersing yourself.

So she deliberately picked on you, persistently directing her questions at you regardless of your ‘fellow’ Aspirants' raised, insisting hands.

What exasperated her the most was your response to her gentle reprimands when you answered incorrectly; your attitude matched, perhaps even surpassed, the apathy you showed toward her lessons. The sole thing you were eager about was to demonstrate how little she mattered to you.

How wrong she was to believe private lessons would change anything. She assumed whatever shit show you were trying to pull would crumble when it was just the two of you, face to face. She thought you showed defiance only because you were among other Aspirants, who would devastate at the sight of their sweet, dear Sister being —justifiably— hard on someone. But no, you were insolent and that was all there was to it.

Unfortunately for you, Sister Wanda didn't have her group of adoring students around to see her now, leaving her free to do whatever she pleased with you.

"Damn you!" She slammed her Bible shut, after she made one last attempt to kindly ask you to make an effort to pay attention. You barely had time to register her words before she was standing—no, looming in front of you. "Listen," she hissed, her breath sharp against your face. The smell of cigarretes was evident. "I don't care why you're here. I only care that you are here. And as long as you are here, you're going to listen to my lesson. You're going to care. And one way or another, you're going to love me for it.”

That was the heart of it, wasn't it? You hadn't knelt, hadn't lapped at her heels like the others, and that was enough to wound her. Enough to make her angry. You could see it in her eyes, controlled fury, a slow-burning arrogance that refused to be challenged.

"Bend over," she ordered, signalling towards her desk with her emerald-green eyes.

You met her eyes, and in that moment, you knew she saw your rage, your disgust, your perplexity barely restrained beneath your clenched jaw.

"Excuse me?" Your voice was trembling of pure impotence, as the room itself seemed to contract around you.

"Bend over," she repeated. “Or… don't. You can always go back to that job—”

And before she could even complete her sentence, you were bent over her desk.

"Normally, I’d let you choose," she mused, her voice thick with condescension. "But you’ve been so bad, you don’t even deserve that.”

The closet doors creaked open behind you. Wooden. Heavy. Old.

The sound pierced the silence, a whistle of something cutting through the air, followed by a firm whip exploding across your flesh.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

It stuck in your throat, strangled by disbelief, both from the action and the inimaginable pain.

Your body jerked forward against the desk, as a high-pitched cry escaped your lips before you could stop it.

The wooden cane struck again, and again, and again.

Sister Wanda was known for being methodical, and her punishments weren't the exception, for she let each strike sink in before delivering the next.

Your fingers clawed at the barnished wood of her desk, intending to stay still, to deny her the satisfaction of seeing you squirm and suffer.

But it was impossible. The burning sensation radiating from your ass across your whole body, had you sobbing openly, with your pride as bruised as your skin.

"Please," you whimpered, choked with pathetic attempts to inhale some air. "I‐I'm sorry, please...”

She hummed with indifference. The same indifference you once gave her during her lessons. Divine justice.

Her cane tapped thoughtfully against your tender flesh, making you flinch. You couldn't take another single one.

"What did Christ say to Peter after the resurrection?” Just another cynical test. You should've seen it coming.

The answer was somewhere within the depths of your distressed mind. But the sting of open skin, made your thoughts slow.

"Well?" she pressed, and the cane lifted from your ass.

"Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Through your sobs, you heard the creak of the cabinet opening again, the soft sound of the cane being returned to its place. Your flesh throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and you knew you wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for days.

With gentle hands that moments ago had wielded the cane, she carefully smoothed down your tunic, her touch now impossibly tender.

"There now, sweet girl," she murmured, her voice honey-like and soothing. Her fingers traced the tear tracks on your cheeks, wiping away the remnants of the evidence of your sorrow. "You took your punishment so well.”

Every alert in your rational mind that would dcream at you to stay away was turned off. You knew it when you found yourself melting into her touch, craving the comfort she offered. And she looked down at you with adoration when she found nothing but submission in your eyes, as she cradled your face between her palms.

"Such a good girl for me now, isn't that right?" he whispered, and the praise… the praise had your earlier fear dissolving under her careful ministrations. "This is all I wanted from you, darling, just to see you truly present, truly here with me."

She drew you closer, letting you rest your forehead against her shoulder as her fingers threaded through your hair. The scent of chapel incense and that hint of cigarettes enveloped you, and you found yourself breathing it in deeply, letting it ground you.

“This is what happens when you let yourself be guided, when you submit to proper instruction," her lips brushed your earshell as she spoke. "Will you be good for me from now on?"

You nodded against her shoulder, unable and unwilling to resist the tempting implication she made. If you behaved, you would have more of these precious moments.

And this alone gave you more purpose than anything else since you arrived to the monastery.

You became aware of it in the same way a candle becomes aware of fire, at first, just a taste of heat, then a flame that tangles in the wax until it consumes it all.

You became an active participant in her lessons, a constant presence who made sure to be seen, to be noticed. You knew Sister Wanda liked your enthusiasm, but it wasn't just her approval you sought. You wanted her recognition.

And so, when you weren't taking her lessons, you were reading, studying, making sure your application made you stand out among the other Aspirants. All so that you would be her favorite girl.

She usually saw you reading under one of the garden's trees. You had chosen the one that was the closest to the hall, she noticed. She couldn't miss it if she was walking out of her office. It was adorable.

If she had time, she would stop by your side, looking at the book in your hands. She would take the tome gently, making sure that her slender fingers brushed yours, even if for a second, and her arm subsequently found its around you in an almost unconscious, protective manner.

"Do you have any questions?" She would inquire. And even though you didn't —unsurprisingly so—, you pretended to need clarification, any excuse to let her closeness linger a few seconds longer, not ready to be apart from her yet.

It had taken hold of you. The need of her touch.

Before, reading and prayer were mere obligations, mechanical routines that you did just because you had to. Now, they had become rituals charged with intention, directed towards something greater; her.

If you prayed fervently, if you participated enthusiastically, if you were everything she expected of you, rest assured she would seek you out every time, just to remind you that you did not go unnoticed by her.

"It was so good," she purred, her hand sliding over your lower back.

And, of course, she noticed your every gesture. Every held breath, every tiny tilt of your body in her direction.

She had conditioned other students to obey her in the same way, but they did not respond to her touch as you did that day after she bent you over the desk. Not only did you not flinch, you melted.

They obeyed for fear of being punished again. But, it seemed you had even forgotten all about it.

You didn't look at her with terror. You looked at her with longing.

Sure, it was normal to look for approval. That's all it was. A conditioned reflex, a survival instinct. To make sure you didn't get any more punishment.

But you... you weren't just looking for her approval.

You were looking for her.

And she didn't know which was worse, the reverse effect it had inadvertently caused in you, or the one it was causing in her.

She should have stopped when she had the chance, when she noticed that her threatening attempts to impose fear, meaning by grabbing your face, squeezing your shoulder or resting her hand on your back, for you were, in reality, caresses. Caresses that you evidently lacked throughout your life.

"One way or another, you're going to love me for it," she had established, but the another way was not the one she usually applied, the one she used to know so well.

The admiration of others fed her ego, and gave her that sense of power and control to which she had long ago become addicted. But you had made that seem insignificant compared to what you provided her.

She was fully aware that you didn't want to be like her. Hell, she knew exactly why you joined the congregation.

It was something far more significant than the admiration she had initially tried to kindle within you.

It was submission.

And therefore every slightest caress became a bottomless pit for her, for both of you. And both, without fear, fell.

It was everything you were looking for.

So much so that, when Natasha touched your window, you felt nothing. And you had reached the point of believing that there was no point in continuing to do something that no longer had any meaning for you.

So, as she was about to climb in, you stopped her.

"I'm reading," you said without looking up from the book in your hands, signaling to her that you weren't going to move from there.

Natasha paused for a second, just long enough for doubt to seep into her expression before pulling herself together.

"I can see that. Good for you.”

And still, she walked in. She did so as confidently as she always did, expecting no more permission than she believed belonged to her.

"I can't do this anymore," you stated, firm this time.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, somewhere between mockery and skepticism. She swept her gaze over you, that quick, almost bored assessment. Then, she chuckled.

"What?" She asked in mock disbelief. "Are you going to tell me that you received a calling from the Lord to give yourself to him? Is this what it is? Are you going to practice chastity?”

You denied quickly.

"No, don't be ridiculous.”

It wasn't faith, not in the way she implied. It was devotion, but to someone who was there, who did respond. There was something greater than mindless pleasure, something more real than the filling of your needy hole. You had found someone to exist for, someone who saw beyond the fleeting instant and looked at you, not just what she could take from you.

She tilted her head, with the same expression of one who already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway.

"You met someone else," she asserted.

"No..." it was an instinctive reflex that, upon reaching your tongue, lost its form, dissolving into something uncertain. "Maybe. I don't know."

Had you, really? Wanda hadn't touched you in that way, the way Natasha did, urgently, hungrily. And yet what she did to you had been more than anything you'd ever felt. Her fingers glided over your skin with a lightness that didn't demand, that didn't take. There was something in the way she looked at you, not with possession, but with recognition. As if you were someone, not something.

You didn't know if it was equal, but it was better. Much better.

There was a second of silence. Then Natasha let out a dry laugh.

"Well, I'd be damned," she muttered with a half-smile, not taking her eyes off you. "Just... think about her if you want. I had a long day.”

And you agreed. It was the only way to know if this bordered on a level of attraction that was new to you.

When Natasha fucked you, you closed your eyes, and you imagined those pink lips, those big emerald green eyes, that unseen body hiding under that habit.

No. Not like this.

If you were doing this with Wanda, she'd be stroking your hair. She'd kiss your cheeks. She'd make sure you felt how much she appreciated having your presence beneath her, pleasing her. Overall, she'd make sure you were enjoying yourself too.

Because you were somebody.

You opened your eyes, and you pulled Natasha's hand away from your mouth, with a movement that was not abrupt, but definite.

"Caress me," you commanded.

Natasha frowned.

"You're insane," she panted between thrusts. You didn't blame her for saying it. Maybe you were.

"Do it," you insisted, with the certainty of one who has made a decision with no turning back. "Or this will be the last time.”

She rolled her eyes impatiently. But she agreed. Without love, without affection, with a mechanical manner that barely mimicked what you had asked.

"No, this isn't working," you growled, nudging her gently. You didn't want to make her feel like this was her fault, it really wasn't. You simply began to crave for something she was no longer capable of giving you.

"I agree, let me do my thing," she replied, slamming deeper inside you to reassert her dominance. You knew she knew what you were referring to, the fact that her flings during the night were no longer working for you. But she wasn't going to admit it, because she wanted to keep using you, seeing you.

And no, you had a say in this.

"Natasha, I don't want you anymore!" You exclaimed, perhaps louder than you should have in the middle of the night when everyone was supposed to be asleep.

She pulled back, just enough to glance in your direction, as if to silently confirm the truth of your words. Within the depths of your eyes, she found the answer. Therefore she stepped back with deliberate nonchalance and adjusted her pants, maintaining her composure in the shifting tide of the moment.

You thought she was going to refute, as it seemed very important to her to leave her house, to risk being found just to 'take out her frustrations on you'. She could have looked for anyone, but she wanted you. And perhaps the reason would remain a mystery.

"Call me when that cheesiness wears off," she stated matter-of-factly, and retreated from your room through the window.

And with that, you thought you were off the hook.

You thought.

You were under your tree, your now shelter, when you saw Wanda come out of her office. Her footsteps echoed on the floor, quick and heavy, so different from her usual gait. She was furious, you knew.

You didn't alert yourself, you thought it wasn't about you, that if you were doing what she expected from you, without fail, why would she be angry?

But then, instead of taking the path to the hallway, as she always did, she walkes you. Her eyes showed no gentleness. There was no tenderness in her face. But what had happened? Everything seemed to be in order. Why... this?

In one sudden movement, she bent down and, with a violence that made you lose your breath, she lifted you up suddenly, pulling your hair towards her, forcing you to stumble, to stagger, all the way to her office. She didn't care about your whines, and, your desperate pleas to explain what was happening.

And once inside, the door closed with a clang that chilled your blood, and proceeded to bend you over the desk by slamming the side of your face against it. There were no orders. There were no requests. There was no room for choice.

No explanation, not a single word spoken, like you didn't deserve any of that. It couldn't be real. Not again. Not like this. She was treating you... badly. And you didn't know why, or what you had done wrong.

"I took you for so many things," she began, and the sound of the closet doors where she kept her canes chilled your skin just like the last time. "Insolent, disdainful, opportunist... and I thought I'd fixed you."

You choked, your throat closed up with unshed tears. You didn't understand. You couldn't understand.

The prospect of getting caned didn't even occupy your mind at that moment. It was the torture of knowing that you let her down, that everything you had done, all your effort, had been in vain, that consumed you to the core.

"Y-you did!" you cried, trying to cling to some hope, some justification, looking for some way to explain what you didn’t even know you did. "I've done everything you asked, and more! I don't understand!"

The way she dismissed your words with a curt hum, and proceeded to lift your tunic, was a silent communication that everything you did for her wasn't enough to forgive nor forget what she was about to punish you for.

"Yes," she said, caressing your bare cheeks, which still held the memories of your first punishment. "Except for the fact that you're a filthy slut, fucking a criminal every night in your room."

Your skin bristled at her accusation. She felt it under her fingertips, and that made her more relentless.There was no point in applying those impecable lying techniques that had brought you to this point, if ultimately, your body was at her mercy, and it did not lie.

"Who told you?" you could barely articulate. How could anyone ever dare to touch something so sacred to you?

"No one!" She exclaimed.

It had been one of your fellow Aspirants. She was heading to the bathroom that night, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, when she heard the hushed moans and accelerated breaths through your door.

And when she heard your apparent fling was about to slip out of your window, she followed.

She didn’t go far, just enough to reach Natasha out, grip her shoulder, and turn her around to reveal her identity. That cost her a broken nose. However, it was worth it. So worth it.

Because she hated you, everyone hated you. Why were you Wanda's favorite? You hated her lessons, you were rude to her, and when you started doing what everyone did, you got praised for it?

She was supposed to belong to all of them! Equally. So if she had to sabotage your relationship to take back what was theirs, then so be it.

First thing in the morning, she told Wanda everything.

"I don't understand you, (Y/N)!" She continued, whipping you three times in a row, the contact coursing through your entire body. You could have sworn you felt an electric current run from your head to your feet. And worse than the first time. Much worse. Oh, compared to what you felt now, those moments seemed like paradise. "Here, you have it all!"

Wanda's jealousy, the shadows of her anger, made her apply way more force than she intended to. And from your end, the realization that you had failed the one person who had ever made you feel you were worth anything, who had made you believe you weren't invisible, made you the perfect recipient for her fury.

You were vulnerable, not resistant, for you defeatedly accepted this as just a little bit of the hell you deserved for having disappointed Wanda. Your Wanda.

"You got everything you wanted," she continued. "Everything you wanted in exchange for being my good girl. And isn't that enough? You had to look outside for what you could have here, with me?"

Before you could apologize, or beg for mercy, you felt the touch of her face against the fabric of your panties, where she inhaled deeply.

"I should have known my baby girl wanted to be fucked, hm?" She commented, more softly than before. The scent of your involuntary arousal soothed her unlike any other. "My bad.”

“I… I'm so… I'm so stupid,” you whimpered, your words laced with embarrasment. Your tears had already formed a small, glistening puddle on the surface of her desk, reflecting the dim candlelight.

"Shhh, nothing to be ashamed of," she whispered in your ear. Her body pressed against your back with almost reverent care, as though she wanted to hold you rather than crush you. After all, you were someone fragile, someone precious that deserved protection from the claws of the outside world. "Oh, my darling," she cooed, with a gentleness so sincere that it made you forget, if only for an instant, the trust that had been broken. "No more tears," she commanded softly.

She stuck out her tongue and slid it tenderly over your cheek, gathering the salty trace of your regret.

She extended her tongue, moving it with deliberate tenderness across your tear-stained cheek, collecting each salty droplet that marked your sorrow.

The warm, wet sensation of her tongue against your skin, the taste of your regret, provoked her to elicit a deep, satisfied moan that resonated through her whole body and into yours.

It shouldn't have felt like salvation, but it did. And naturally, you yearned for more, as you did with form of contact that she could offer you.

And, with the same quiet desperation of a sinner seeking absolution, you turned your head, parted your lips, and let the tip of your tongue meet hers. She stilled for a moment, just a moment, before answering you kindly. A gentle meeting of tongues, tentative at first, but then so natural and carefree. Like you had done this a thousand times before. In a previous lifetime, perhaps.

The kiss deepened, her tongue exploring yours with the same careful attention she gave to every aspect of your being. Her mouth moved against yours with a rhythm that spoke of ownership, of belonging, each sweep of her tongue claiming territory that had always been rightfully hers. Not anyone else’s.

The taste of her, sharp and sweet like consecrated wine, filled your senses until there was nothing else. No past mistakes, no future uncertainties, just the perfect present of her mouth commanding yours.

Your heart thundered against her desk, no longer from fear but from the raw intensity of being truly seen, truly possessed. Each sigh you drew was heavy with the innate air of submission you emanated, sweeter than any prayer you'd ever offered. And she inhaled it blissfully.

"Out there, they only know how to take from you," she whispered against your lips. "But here, my precious girl, I'll make sure you get everything you need. No need to look outside ever again."

“Yes,” was the only thing you needed to say, and it was the only thing she needed to hear.

She left a kiss on your cheek, both as a thankful gesture and as a silent assurance before she knelt to the level of her desk where you were still bent over, now in front of her.

You felt her warm breath clash against the sensitive skin between your legs as she pushed your underwear to the side.

She trailed her tongue against your folds, making you gasp at the sudden foreign intrusion. No one has ever tasted you before. Natasha thought it was too intimate.

But screw Natasha. There you had everything you’d ever needed.

Her eyes widened in awe. She had just discovered a flavor so intoxicating, so essential, that she couldn’t imagine life before tasting it. And the last ounce of self-control vanished as she lunged forward, devouring your pussy with the desperation of a starved creature finally set free.

She wanted you to interiorize with every fiber of your being that this was where you belonged, under her ministrations, receiving the divine attention only she could provide.

It was overwhelming, not just physically, but emotionally. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes shut tight and your head struggled to process the intensity of it all.

"Oh, Wanda!" You whimpered, your voice thick with need for more. Always needed more of her, didn't you? The words barely made it past your lips before dissolving into desperate gasps.

It was all too much. The cool surface of the desk against your heated skin, the warmth of her mouth claiming you so intimately, the sting from your punishment mixing with rising pleasure until you couldn't distinguish between the two.

"Tell me where do you belong," she demanded, pulling back just so she could speak. The sudden absence of her tongue made you whine pathetically. You felt hollow inside.

"With you, only with you!" You vowed, proudly. "I've always been yours."

Your admission seemed to ignite something animalistic in her. She growled against your flesh, the vibrations making your thighs tremble.

Your hands fisted helplessly against the polished wood, seeking grounding as your body threatened to collapse under the assault of her mouth.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only her mouth working you with devastating precision, only the building pressure deep in your core that threatened to tear you apart. Your consciousness narrowed to a singular point of pure feeling.

"Give it to me, my sweet girl," she murmured, her words muffled against your flesh.

Your body responded to her command before your mind could process it. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, manifesting itself through your release, and she swallowed every drop of it. She wasn't going to stop until she made sure to dry you out.

Your vision blurred, spots of light dancing behind your closed eyelids as you succumbed completely to her dominance, that didn't seem to cease despite your surrender.

"Oh, p-please..." you gasped, though you weren't sure what you were begging for, to stop or to continue.

Regardless, she didn't stop, didn't even slow down. If anything, your pleas spurred her on, her tongue moving with renewed vigor as she worked you through your release. Your legs shook violently, and if not for her firm grip on your hips, you would have fell down like a ragdoll.

"Mine," she established, finally pulling back to admire her work. Your swollen, pink pussy throbbing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

A rustle of fabric caught your attention, followed by the cool touch of silicone against your worn out hole. She leaned over you, pressing soft kisses along your spine as she aligned herself.

"My precious girl," she whispered, intertwining her fingers with yours on the desk. You turned your head to meet her gaze, overwhelmed by the tenderness in her eyes.

She pressed forward slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled. Her other hand caressed your cheek lovingly, wiping away the remnants of your tears. You leaned into her touch, turning to kiss her palm.

"Please, I want you," you breathed, squeezing her hand. "Only you, always you."

She began to move with gentle, measured thrusts, each one accompanied by sweet words of praise and affection.

She leaned down to press her lips against yours in a deep, passionate kiss. The new angle made you gasp into her mouth as she hit a particularly sensitive, spongy spot inside you.

"There, my love," she encouraged, maintaining the steady rhythm that was slowly building you towards another peak. "You're doing so good. Always making me so proud."

Her thrusts became more purposeful, but never lost their tenderness. One hand remained firmly clasped with yours while the other wrapped around your waist, holding you close as she fucked you thoroughly.

Your breath hitched as she increased her pace, each thrust now hitting deeper inside you. Her lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as she drove you closer to the edge. The feeling of fullness, of being completely possessed by her, was overwhelming.

Wanda's embrace tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against her body as she continued her relentless rhythm. She delivered sloppy pecks on your lips, gentle brushes against your cheeks, tender touches along your jawline. Despite her agitated breathing, not for a second did she halt her worshipping.

"Let go for me," she whispered against your ear, her accent slipping out.

Her order, combined with the perfect angle of her thrusts, sent you spiraling into another intense orgasm. Your walls clenched around her as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. She held you through it all, her arms secure around your waist, her lips pressing sweet kisses to your temple.

"Good job," she cooed, slowly bringing you down from your high. "You're perfect, absolutely perfect."

As your breathing steadied, she carefully withdrew, turning you in her arms to face her. Her eyes were full of adoration as she cupped your face, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. She pressed her forehead against yours, sharing the same breath, the same space, the same devotion.

"No more fucking that girl, understood?" she asked. It was clear you were never going to let Natasha lay a hand on you again, not after this. Nevertheless, she wanted to hear you say it.

"No, never again," you assured her. "I know now, I shouldn't look outside what only you can provide for me.”

"Hmm, that's how a good girl talks," she commented, pulling away from you, intending to see your reaction when she told you the following. "Well. It's not like she's going to show up again anyway. While I was fucking you, she was probably heading on a plane back to Russia.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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cimmanonrowl · 10 months ago

Text

Cyber Sex

You can only put up with so much as Aaron Hotchner's girlfriend. Busy office hours? Case files scattering your usually neat living room? Rescheduling appointments? Impromptu dates? Fine. But what about ovulating while he's out of town?

Pairing: aaron hotchner x writer!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, soft dom!aaron, cam sex, daddy kink, dirty talking, powerplay: older man/younger woman relationship, squirting, guided masturbation.

The soft mattress of your shared bed dipped against Aaron’s weight. On a normal day, you would’ve greeted him excitedly downstairs. He’d gotten used to seeing you first thing with your curls tied in a messy bun, only wearing your skimpy underwear under his old and oversized Law School shirt; all with a warm, angelic smile on your lips as you hugged him tightly.

Tonight, however, was different.

When he stepped inside the bedroom, you quickly felt his hand on your waist, the pad of his thumb tracing soft circles on your bare skin. Another stifled sob escaped your lips at the contact. Your eyes already stung after hours of crying, blood rushing down your head as you were forced to swallow the lump in your throat.

You heard Aaron heave a deep sigh before cautiously inching closer to your trembling figure, your back facing him.

“Sweetheart…” His voice was quiet and rough, obviously twinged with exhaustion. “I know you’re awake, baby. Look at me, please?”

You scooted away from the warmth of his hand, letting another set of warm tears cascade down your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” He called out softly, shuffling towards you. “I know you’re mad and I can understand why. And I know that I deserve it, but at least let’s talk about what happened.”

“Go away, Aaron.”

“Hmm?”

Instead of being offended, Aaron just pursed his lips. He carefully placed his big, calloused hand on your waist again, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he silently watched you. His heart clenched at the state you’re in, fresh tears dripping down your face and straight to your pillow, your shoulders racking in a quiet sob.

“Darling, you know we won’t fix anything without having to talk about it. You have to tell me what you feel and help me fix this…” He urged gently.

The room was quiet for a moment, just the sound of the whirring of the AC and your wet sniffling could be heard on occasion. Your brain flew back to the memories of today’s events. Waking up early and excitedly preparing Aaron’s lunch, kissing him goodbye with his promise of taking an afternoon off from work for your date, you anxiously waiting for him to arrive at your book event, then spending the rest of the day all by yourself.

No reply nor callback from him, not even a single notice that he won’t be able to fulfill his promise. You even had to call Garcia to know that your dear boyfriend was called to an emergency meeting.

Your heart aches even at the mere thought of it.

Of course, you’re aware of the consequence of being with Aaron. When you introduced him to your parents, both of them sat you down and talked to you about the possible dangers of being with a Federal agent. The criminals he’d thrown in jail might get their revenge on him through you, or that you might be targeted as a mere collateral damage. The idea lingered in your brain— it still does every now and then, if you’re honest. But you trust Aaron with your life so much that you know even with those possibilities, Aaron will do his best to protect you.

But it was different when you told your friends about your new relationship. Ever since they’ve been vocal about their concern about your setup: Aaron Hotchner is a busy, busy man. They were worried about you being neglected, or for your efforts to go unnoticed and taken advantage of. Regardless, you fought for him and convinced them that as much as Aaron is a man with a high sense of duty, he is a good partner who always tries to spend as much time with you, with the little free time his job can ever offer.

And for three years, it was enough.

Just not for today.

You sniffed quietly, your voice hoarse when you spoke again. “I rescheduled three reservations since last week, Aaron. I had a book event today and you promised to accompany me.”

“I know, sweetheart…” He whispered regretfully, combing through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that.”

You felt him stiffen at your words, and his thumb stopped its movements in accord. You could almost sense the dread washing over him. “I know, baby, and this isn’t what I wanted you to feel. So let me make it up to you, sweetheart. Work’s just been…”

“I don’t want to hear about your work right now, Aaron.”

The pleading in your voice caught him off-guard. That was the truth. You’re too upset and pissed to listen to his work problems. And he knows that’s one of the things you loved doing. Normally, you’d let him vent out to you about the things that worried him, stressed him, or angered him for the day— and it usually ends with his cock deep down your throat or pounding in and out of your willing cunt.

But not right now.

He won’t even bother spending an afternoon to support you and your work. Why would you listen to him, right? Right.

After another beat of silence, Aaron nodded in understanding. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch, sweetheart?”

You quickly shook your head.

“I prepared—” You swallowed thickly, almost choking on your own tears. God, you missed him so much.

As much as you felt neglected and hurt by his recent actions, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop caring for him. The image of him spending his night cramped on a couch, and not being able to rest properly isn’t something you can easily stomach. Maybe you’re too in love it’s almost pathetic.

“Yes, sweetheart? What were you saying?”

“I prepared the guest room. S-sleep there.”

“Oh…” His words came out like a whisper, so comforting you almost let yourself melt into it. “Thank you, baby, but I’d like to stay here in our bedroom. I can take the couch if you don’t want me near—”

“Aaron.”

“Yes?”

He waited for you to continue, his warm hand continuously rubbing soft circles on your waist.

“You’re getting on my nerves, Aaron. Leave me alone.”

As soon as he heard the words come out of your mouth, you instantly felt the subtle change in his grip; it turned firm and rigid. And you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip and expect whatever was about to come.

Aaron exhaled a little sharply.

“I don’t appreciate this attitude, little girl. I’m trying to talk to you.”

“And I just said I don’t want to talk!” You argued back, your voice still hoarse from crying, now raising a tad.

“Lower your voice down. I don’t want to start a fight.”

“Yeah, how noble of you.”

“Jesus…” He mumbled under his breath. Even with your back facing him, you can imagine the look of disbelief on his face. “I’m trying to solve this before this night ends but all I’m getting is this attitude.”

“If you don’t leave me alone, I’m leaving.”

“And where would you go at this late hour, huh?”

His challenging voice infuriated you even more. “I don’t know, some dude maybe. The one who can spend time with me and maybe fuck me—”

“Oh, so is that what this attitude is about? You’re so horny that you’re willing to knock on a stranger’s door and let him fuck you with his small dick, just to get back at me?”

“Whatever you say, old man.”

With a tender yet forceful grip on your waist, he was able to flip you on your back. You watched him as he stood, his hand quietly traveling down his belt and deftly unbuckling it.

“You don’t mean that, little girl.” He pointed out calmly, shaking his head a little. “I think we both know your pretty, little cunt was too ruined by my cock you won’t ever feel satisfied with anything else.”

“You’re so full of crap, Hotchner.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Am I now?”

“You’re so full of yourself. There’s a lot of guys out there—”

“Oh, really?” He tugged his necktie from side to side, loosening it before swiftly taking it off. You saw the glint in his eyes as he smiled at you in amusement. “Then why are you scrambling to remove your soaked underwear, sweetling? I thought there’s a lot of guys out there?”

Heat crept on your cheeks as your eyes wandered down your body. Your pink cotton underwear was already pulled down on your ankles, with an obvious wet stain on the fabric.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Aaron smiled as he flicked his pointer finger, urging you to come closer. “How about I eat you out, make you cum over and over again until you squirt on my face? Would my little girl forgive me then?”

You scrambled on your knees, your plump lips shut as you shuffled closer to him. He chuckled softly as you glared at him with your rimmed red eyes. In his eyes, you look heavenly; your hair messy and tear-stained cheeks glowing with a soft hue of rose.

He ran the pad of his thumbs on the remnant of tears on your cheeks before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“You’re so pretty even when you’re crying, doll…” He whispered softly, his apprehensive eyes wandering all over your face. “But I hate making you upset. I’m so sorry I hurt you. Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.”

You sniffed with a nod, whispering. “Okay...”

“Okay what, sweetheart?”

“Eat me out, daddy…” You demanded in a soft tone, staring at him through your lashes, blinking almost innocently at him. “I want your tongue inside my pussy. Let’s see if I’ll forgive you after that.”

He smiled a little. “Oh, I’ll make sure you will, little girl. I will fuck you dumb on the balcony you’d be ashamed to face our neighbors.”

He pressed a sweet kiss on your lips, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.

“Sounds good, daddy,” you smiled back, subtly rubbing your thighs in need.

Sunlight filtered into the room, casting a warm glow on the walls and floor the next morning. You stirred, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face and the coldness of the mattress. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light, your eyes quickly wandering around the room to look for Aaron who was no longer lying beside you.

Instead, the sound of hurried footsteps and rustling clothes filled the air.

“Aaron?” You called softly, sitting on the bed as you stifled a yawn.

You turned towards the walk-in closet, noticing Aaron moving frantically around the room, already dressed in his work clothes. A frown unknowingly lidded your expression as you glanced at the bedside table, seeing that your digital clock displayed it was only 9 AM.

“It’s Saturday,” You couldn’t help but point out. “It’s your day off.”

Aaron turned to you guiltily. “I know, sweetheart. But Strauss just called; we got a case. I need to gather the team, you know how she’s been lately. With budget cuts and everything she’s complaining about.”

“Where are you off to this time?”

You watched his reflection as he effortlessly knotted his tie. He looked so good and professional you can’t even bring yourself to feel upset. From a short distance, you can smell his perfume and body wash. The sight was enough to stir your lustful thoughts and send tingles down your sore and well-spent cunt.

“You okay, angel?” He called out, watching you tentatively in the mirror. “I’ll be home in a few days, don’t worry.”

“You said you’ll take me out on a date later…”

Aaron took a deep breath, contemplation plastering his face. You listened to the sound of his footsteps coming closer, the morning sunlight enveloping you in its warm embrace.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorr—”

“It’s okay, Aaron. I understand,” You smiled in assurance, reaching for his tie to straighten it. “People need you.”

“I want to be here with you, too,” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m really sorry, angel. I’ll come home as quickly as I can then file for a leave. We can go on a vacation together.”

You hummed with a small smile. “Okay.”

“Just like that, sweet girl?” He laughed teasingly. “Oh. Is it because of last night? Did daddy remind you how he kept true to his words?”

You blushed at the question. “It’s too early for this talk, Aaron.”

“Well, I did tell you I’ll fuck you so good you’d be pliant on my wants.”

“I saw Mrs. Moore smoking on her balcony last night, she definitely saw us…” Your blush deepened. “I can’t face her ever again.”

Aaron’s eyes lit in humor, and he leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. “What a whore you are, baby…” he whispered before straightening up. “I really have to go, angel. I’ll call you later, alright?”

You nodded, watching as he grabbed his go-bag and headed for the door. “Hmm. Come home safe and quick.”

“Will do, angel,” he replied, giving you one last look before disappearing down the hallway.

You spent the entire day working and tending to house chores. Aaron called you the moment they landed, assuring you once again that he’d be home as fast as he could. The house was quiet for hours, only the sound of your fingers occasionally hitting the keyboard lingering in the air.

Aaron’s office was cloaked in a soft glow of corner lamps. You sat at Aaron’s desk with your laptop open in front of you. The book you were writing was already coming to a climax, the cursor blinking on a blank document, waiting for words that refused to come.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the screen. You had been trying to write for hours, but the scene in your head just wouldn’t translate into words. It was as if the characters were mocking you, their actions vivid in your mind yet stubbornly silent on the page.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, tapping out a few words before deleting them in frustration. You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes in an attempt to visualize the scene more clearly. Your characters were supposed to have a slow, intimate moment. But for some reason, all you can think about is Aaron’s tongue buried down your dripping cunt, his thick fingers pounding in and out, his thumb rubbing your clit; desperately chasing your high.

Last night, by the third orgasm, you squirted on his mouth. And he happily lapped your release, whispering encouragement and how he’s so lucky to be able to please you. Then he fucked you near the balcony door, putting on a show for anyone to see.

Minutes crawled by and you found yourself browsing your laptop, scrolling through the locked folder you shared with Aaron, the one containing your sex videos. You eagerly scrolled down, your free hand rubbing slow circles through the thin fabric of your cotton underwear.

You settled with a video Aaron taken just a month ago. It was a close-up shot of his cock pounding gently, slowly, inside your cunt— his cum dripping out with every thrust. With a sharp sigh, you quickly removed your underwear and propped both your legs on the armrest of Aaron’s swivel chair.

You rubbed your clit in a teasing movement, watching the video with wide eyes. Arousal was slowly dampening your cunt which only triggered the pace of your fingers. Heat was slowly licking your skin, a coil tightening in your stomach, watching how Aaron was filling your pussy with his seed, almost too much that some of it spilled out after his shallow pounding.

“Look at this pussy, angel. Fuck. It’s so warm… feels like heaven…” Aaron moaned on the video, his voice rough, his thumb pressing hard circles on your aching cunt, making you clamp your legs a little.

“Moan louder, baby. I want to hear your pretty voice...”

You thrust in your middle finger in desperation, your eyes focused on your laptop screen. “Daddy… Oh my god…”

The camera focused on Aaron’s face as he caged his head in between your thighs. With his cum dripping out of your pussy, he gave your cunt a few teasing licks before finally slipping his tongue inside, moving it around with such expertise. As he continued tongue fucking your hole, his thumb was incessant on abusing your clit.

Once satisfied with your reaction: moaning like a whore and tugging on his hair, he thrusted in his cock once again.

“Daddy! D-daddy! I’m cumming!” Your hysterical moaning rang in the four corners of the room. “Gonna s-squirt. Fuck, daddy– yes! Yes, there, there! Oh m-my god, faster!”

“Oh, this spot right here, little girl?”

Your teeth sank on your bottom lip as you continued watching. Aaron suddenly took out his cock, slapping it against your clit with vigor. You eagerly watched how that pushed you on the edge. You squirted so hard some of Aaron’s cum dripped out, your legs trembling and tightening in so much pleasure.

The lewd sound of your wet cunt squelching was accompanied by your shameless moans. The video already ended on your screen but you can’t bring yourself to stop, too desperate to reach your incoming orgasm. Your fingers were already cramping in effort. God, how you wish Aaron was here to fingerfuck your pussy instead.

But a notification startled you out of your wits. Grounding you back to the reality that you’re actually fingering yourself in front of your laptop. You even forgot to block your camera.

The notification, luckily, was a FaceTime call from your boyfriend.

You quickly propped your legs down to the ground and fixed yourself. Trying to slow down your ragged breathing, you found yourself accepting Aaron’s call almost instantly.

“H-hi!” You greeted excitedly, combing your hair as you saw yourself on the screen. Hell, you looked fucked out. “Hi, love. Done for the day?”

Aaron’s eyes seemed to harden at the sound of your voice. His hair was damp as if he just got out of the shower. You can tell that he’s not wearing a shirt yet, beads of water cascading down his neck down to his chest.

“Yes, gorgeous. Am I interrupting something?” He prompted shortly, making you blush.

“N-no, not really… I was just writing…”

He hummed, shuffling on his bed. “Yeah, right. That’s exactly what I just saw, sweetheart.”

“What—” You frowned a little; until realization dawned on you. You quickly whipped your head in the direction of the CCTV. “Oh— you were watching?”

He chuckled softly, enjoying the look of embarrassment on your face. “You didn’t reply to my texts so I checked the security cameras on my laptop. And to answer your question, yes, dirty girl, daddy’s watching.”

“I’m sorry, daddy. I just missed you…”

“It’s alright, my love. I’m the one who should be sorry…” He assured you with an adoring smile. “Have you orgasmed yet, angel?”

You shook your head bashfully. “Not yet, daddy… you called so...”

“So it’s my fault again?” He teased, chuckling. “I can’t let my little girl not orgasm now, can I?”

You shook your head eagerly, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you listened to his mesmerizing, deep voice.

“Can you go back to your position earlier and show me your pretty cunt, little girl?”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You spread your legs in his command and propped it on both armrests, running your pointer finger up and down your wetness.

“I’m so wet, daddy. Was watching our videos…” You confessed sultrily.

A groan rumbled from Aaron’s chest with that. “I saw, baby. What were you watching exactly?”

“The one with— the one in the hotel. You shot a video of my pussy dripping full of your cum and you’re fucking me slowly…”

“I remember that…” He answered shortly, his piercing eyes focused on your fingers tracing slow circles on your aching cunt. “You squirted twice, didn’t you? One from daddy’s cock and one on my mouth. You taste like heaven, little girl. You’re making daddy hard.”

You blushed at his words. Aaron has always been good at talking in bed, he never failed to push you to orgasm with his dirty mouth. “Can I see, daddy, p-please?”

“See what, pretty girl?”

“You big cock, daddy, please? W-wanna see…”

“Rub your clit faster, baby. Go on…” He encouraged softly, palming his hardness through his sweatpants.

Carefully, he laid his laptop on the mattress, giving you a full view of him. Indeed, he was topless, and to your surprise, he was wearing gray sweatpants.

“Daddy…” You plunged in your middle finger, moaning at the sudden intrusion in your pussy. “I miss you. N-need you here…”

“I know, baby. I’ll be home quick,” He said assuringly, still rubbing the hardness outlining his pants. “I spent almost 4 hours fucking that pussy last night and I still can’t get enough. Fuck, angel, if only I can taste that wet cunt—”

A series of pained moans escaped your lips, adding another finger as you saw Aaron finally taking out his cock. With curious eyes, you watched as Aaron spat on his palm before rubbing the wetness on his veiny cock.

“D-daddy… Want your cock down my throat… then my pussy…”

You feel so wet the only thing you can almost hear in the room is the lewd squelching of your fingers assaulting your pussy. Aaron groaned at the sound.

“You’re so wet, baby. I want to suck on your clit as you cum from my fingers,” His eyebrows were tugged together in a frown as he matched the pace of his hand with your fingers. “Then I will fuck you with my big fat cock until you’re a drooling mess. Faster, baby. That’s it. Good girl…”

“Da... daddy!”

“Yes, angel. That’s it... faster, baby. You’re so pretty like that. God, look at that pussy, dripping and desperate to be filled...”

“Need you inside me, Aaron... want your cum...”

“You like that, baby? Like putting on a whore show for daddy?”

“I l-love it d-daddy… wanna p-please you always— oh god, Aaron!” Your legs trembled as you finally hit the spongy spot inside.

“Fuck… I want to pound that fucking pussy until it’s full of my cum…” His voice sounded breathless and restrained, throwing back his neck with his eyes closed to savor the dirty sounds you’re making.

“O-oh! Want your cum inside… want you t-to breed me, daddy. Want your babies inside–”

“Fuck, angel. I’m not going to stop fucking you until you’re pregnant. Wait until I get back...” He moaned, thrusting on his fist hard and fast. “You’re such a good girl for daddy, baby… Cum for me, come on. Make me proud.”

Your vision blurred as your orgasm ripped through your body. You felt a wave of arousal leak through your pulsing cunt, squirting so hard it almost reached your laptop. Catching your breath, you clamped your legs together as your cunt clenched tightly around your fingers.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re going to be the death of me.” You heard Aaron mumbled quietly. And you could only giggle in exhaustion, voice too raw and fucked out to reply.

I suck at tagging, I know. As always, every thoughts and reactions are highly appreciated. Drink your water, babes, and slay!

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch fanfiction

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Note

For the trope day could we please see maybe celebrity reader and hotch? congrats btw!

Walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya [Aaron Hotchner x Popstar!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 2k|| AN: I keep seeing so much queen Sabrina Carpenter stuff around the Hotch fandom these days; she's who I envisioned reader to be like here--but obviously open to interpretation of whatever popstar you would want to be! I lowkey could never picture this happening, but it was fun, nonetheless. This is also likely my last story I'll do for trope tuesday because they take a lot of time, haha. Unless I do a short drabble!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, speculating bau team!, gossip!!, Penelope Garcia is your biggest fan!!!, you're a superstar who sells out stadiums, even rossi knows this!, mysterious!hotch, more of a fun one-shot than anything too fluffy, very team-focused, non-bau!reader

Summary: Hotch has been in a great mood, oddly enough, and when one day, he hands over tickets to Penelope for her favorite singer of all time--you--the team really begins to wonder where Hotch is spending his free time.

The bullpen of the BAU was unusually animated for a Monday morning. Derek leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, watching Reid flip through files at an astonishing rate while Penelope hovered over both their shoulders, her curiosity practically buzzing.

“Seriously, Spence, you didn’t notice anything different about Hotch last week?” Derek asked, his tone teasing but genuinely curious.

Reid, without looking up from his reading, adjusted his glasses. “Well, he did leave on time every day, which is statistically significant for him.”

“Leaving on time? That’s an understatement. The man was practically sprinting out the door at five o’clock. And he smiled--actually smiled--at me yesterday,” Penelope chimed in, her eyes wide with the thrill of the gossip.

Emily, walking in with a cup of coffee in hand, joined the group. “Don’t forget, he also took a personal day last Friday. When’s the last time Hotch took a day off that wasn’t for something work-related?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Exactly! Something’s up. Hotch is seeing someone; it’s got to be.”

Reid finally looked up, curiosity overcoming him. “But who would it be? I mean, we practically live at work. When would he even have the time to meet someone?”

Penelope twirled a strand of her brightly colored hair, thinking. “Oh, my sweet geniuses, that’s the million-dollar question! I could do a little cyber snooping--”

“Penelope, no hacking into Hotch’s personal life,” Emily cut off, her tone half-serious. “But I agree, it’s odd. He’s even been more... what’s the word?”

“Chill?” Derek suggested with a chuckle. “For Hotch standards, anyway.”

The group’s laughter was a mixture of disbelief and genuine amusement, just as Rossi walked up, a knowing smile playing onhis lips. “Talking about our fearless leader’s mysterious new habits?”

Derek nodded, welcoming Rossi into the conversation. “Rossi, you’re the profiler extraordinaire with all the life experience. What’s your read on this?”

Rossi stroked his chin, pretending to ponder deeply. “Well, if I were a betting man--and I occasionally am--I’d say our boy Hotch might just be reminding himself there’s more to life than case files and jet fuel.”

Reid’s brow furrowed in thought. “It’s statistically rare for individuals in high-stress jobs to make sudden changes to their behavioral patterns without a significant emotional or personal catalyst.”

“Exactly,” Penelope squealed, delighted by the support for their theories. “He’s got to be dating someone. This is just like those romance novels where the broody, mysterious man finds love and starts changing his ways.”

JJ laughed, sipping her coffee. “Let’s not get carried away. It could be anything--maybe he’s just taking up a new hobby…or maybe it’s Jack.”

“But a hobby that makes him leave work on time and take days off? That’s not just any hobby; that’s a passion,” Derek countered, his smile suggesting he was thoroughly enjoying the speculation.

The group quieted as Hotch suddenly appeared, his pace steady and his expression unreadable as always. He paused by their cluster, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Morning,” he greeted, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. “I trust we’re all ready to focus on the real mysteries at hand today?”

Caught in their own theories, the team straightened up, mumbling their morning greetings. Hotch’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual, giving nothing away.

As he walked off towards his office, Emily whispered to the group, “See? Happier. I’m telling you, there’s definitely something--or someone--new in his life.”

Rossi chuckled, watching Hotch disappear into his office. “Or maybe our esteemed unit chief just decided it’s time to start living a little. Either way, it’s good to see.”

The team nodded in agreement, the mystery of Hotch’s unusual behavior lingering in the air, adding a layer of intrigue to their day. Derek grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get to work. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll crack the case of the Happy Hotch.”

Laughter echoed softly among them as they dispersed to their desks, the day’s work ahead, but their minds still occasionally drifted to the enigma of Aaron Hotchner’s uncharacteristic lightness.

Days after the team's animated discussion about Hotch's peculiarly cheerful demeanor, Penelope Garcia was in her vibrant lair, surrounded by her kaleidoscope of tech and trinkets.

The sound of a catchy pop song filled the air, and Penelope couldn't help but dance and sing along to the tune, her voice echoing slightly off the walls lined with monitors.

She was in the middle of a particularly enthusiastic chorus when a knock at the door made her jump. Swiveling around in her chair, she saw Hotch standing at the entrance, an amused smile barely touching his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Hotch said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of humor.

Penelope chuckled, brushing off her surprise with a flamboyant wave of her hand. "Oh, it's nothing, Sir. Just enjoying some tunes while I work. You know, fuel for the brain!"

Hotch nodded, his gaze drifting momentarily to the colorful post-it notes of affirmations on her screen. "I couldn’t help but overhear. Do you like this artist?" he asked, nodding toward the speaker from where the music still played, though now at a lower volume.

Penelope’s eyes lit up, eager to share her enthusiasm. "Like her? I adore her! She’s all about empowerment and fun, and her beats are just infectious. Plus, her lyrics are, like, super relatable. She's a total queen!" Penelope exclaimed, not missing the opportunity to promote her musical taste.

Hotch's smile grew a bit as he listened to Penelope’s gushing review. "I see," he said, his voice filled with a warm, curious tone that Penelope rarely heard from him. "Thanks, Garcia."

With a final nod and a mysterious smile, he turned and left as quietly as he had arrived, leaving Penelope staring after him, slightly confused but smiling nonetheless.

She shrugged to herself and turned the volume back up, diving back into her work with the music as her soundtrack, her mind briefly wandering to wonder about Hotch’s sudden interest in pop culture.

"Maybe he’s getting a life outside those case files after all--and a decent taste in music..." she murmured to herself, her head bobbing to the beat as she focused back on her screens, the mystery of Aaron Hotchner adding yet another curious, albeit lighter, layer to her day.

The following week brought an air of excitement that seemed to linger around the BAU, particularly around Penelope Garcia's tech-filled lair. The atmosphere was thick with disbelief and joy as Penelope, unable to contain her excitement, recounted a recent encounter with Hotch to JJ and Emily.

"You guys will not believe this!" Penelope beamed, her hands animatedly waving the prized items in the air. "Hotch--our Hotch--just handed me these!" She fluttered a pair of tickets like they were sacred texts.

JJ and Emily leaned in, eyes widening as they caught sight of the tickets. "No way! How did he even get those?" Emily exclaimed, her skepticism matched by her amusement.

Rossi, overhearing the commotion as he walked in, joined the group, a curious smile playing on his lips. "What's all this about?" he inquired, peering over to see what had stirred up such excitement.

Penelope held up the tickets with a theatrical flair. "These, my dear Rossi, are tickets to see none other than--" she paused for dramatic effect, "--the popstar we were just talking about last week! And not just any tickets--Hotch got them for me!"

Rossi's eyebrows shot up, a clear sign of his surprise. "Those tickets? I heard on the news this morning that they were impossible to get. The show sold out in minutes," he commented, adding to the bewildering nature of Hotch’s gift.

Before Penelope could respond, Derek Morgan swooped in, his hand snatching the tickets from her grip to inspect them himself. "Let me see these," he said, his voice a mix of suspicion and awe. Flipping them over, his eyes scanned the details, and a slow whistle escaped him. "Ladies, these aren’t just any tickets. These are front row. Front. Row. Do you realize how good these seats are?"

JJ laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is insane. Hotch pulled some serious strings. Front row to see a popstar like her? That's not just pulling strings; that's a whole concert orchestra at work!"

Penelope snatched the tickets back from Derek, clutching them close to her chest. "I knew Hotch had a secret side to him!" she exclaimed, her previous theories about his recent behavior seeming to find validation. "This is like, the best thing ever. I can't even--"

Emily leaned in, her voice low and playful. "You know what this means, right? You're going to have to get all dolled up, Penelope. Front row means you’ll probably be on camera!"

Penelope’s grin widened at the thought, already planning her outfit in her mind. "Oh, trust me, I will be camera-ready. Our stoic unit chief might just make a fangirl out of me yet!"

Rossi chuckled, shaking his head as he watched the excitement bubble over. "Well, I'll say this," he mused, "it's nice to see Hotch letting his hair down a bit, even if it’s in his own unique way."

“Whoever he’s seeing’s got some serious connections,” Derek shared.

The group nodded in agreement, the mystery of Hotch's recent behavior adding an unexpected but welcome layer of camaraderie and speculation among the team. As they dispersed back to their tasks, the buzz of excitement remained, the BAU team finding a rare moment of lightness amidst their usual, graver responsibilities.

At the concert, JJ and Penelope stood in the front row, the pulsing lights and thumping beats of the music wrapping around them like a vibrant cloak. You were the popstar that Penelope (and the rest of society) could not get enough of.

Your performance had a cascade of dazzling visuals and soul-stirring vocals that had the crowd roaring with excitement. Each song seemed to resonate perfectly with the audience, a mix of chart-topping hits and beloved classics that had JJ and Penelope singing along, lost in the nostalgia and the thrill of the night.

They felt like they were sixteen all over again.

As the concert progressed, the atmosphere turned electric, each track bringing a new wave of cheers from the audience. You moved with a grace and confidence that commanded attention, your presence on stage both mesmerizing and awe-inspiring. The night was already unforgettable, but it was about to become even more so.

Before launching into the next song, you paused, your gaze sweeping over the crowd with a playful yet intense look.

"This next song," you began, your voice ringing clear over the din, "is a very special one. It’s for the grumpy man who changed my life. He's from here, and guess what? He's here tonight. Supporting me, despite having the most important job out there."

The crowd erupted in cheers, curiosity piqued by your heartfelt introduction. You continued, your eyes twinkling with emotion and mischief, "And because he’s here, supporting me, I want to give a shout-out to someone very special in the audience tonight--Penelope!"

Penelope’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide with shock, and JJ turned to her with an expression that mirrored her disbelief. "How does she know your name?" JJ whispered her voice a mix of excitement and confusion.

Before Penelope could formulate a response, you launched into a flirty, romantic ballad, your voice soaring as beautifully as the lyrics. As yo sang, you glanced toward the VIP section, and with a sly wink and a blown kiss, you acknowledged someone standing there..

Driven by curiosity and an overwhelming sense of wonder, JJ and Penelope followed your gaze. There, among a few shadowed figures in the VIP section, stood none other than Aaron Hotchner. His usually impassive face wore a soft, almost shy smile as he acknowledged the kiss with a slight nod, his eyes locked on the stage.

He was dressed in a black button-up and jeans--a far contrast to his usual attire. He looked relaxed…happy. Maybe not singing along to the words, but he sure knew them. He inspired them.

The realization hit Penelope like a wave. "Oh my god, JJ, Hotch is her boyfriend? Hotch is the grumpy man who changed her life?" she gasped, her voice a mix of shock and delight.

JJ laughed, shaking her head in amazement. "Looks like we've been underestimating our boss's ability to keep secrets," she said, her eyes twinkling with humor and newfound respect for their unit chief.

As the song ended and you took a graceful bow, the crowd’s applause was deafening. JJ and Penelope clapped and cheered along, their hearts full of joy and their minds buzzing with the night’s revelations.

The concert continued, but for JJ and Penelope, the evening had transformed into something even more magical--a story they would share and reminisce about for years to come, the night their grumpy boss was revealedto be the secret boyfriend of a popstar, right before their very eyes.

418 notes · View notes

slut4hee · 2 months ago

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I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

{Paring: Subscriber Jake Sim x OF Model Blk Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, cyber sex, onlyfans au, Jake’s a college student, 18+ so mdni).

{Synopsis: In which jake has found himself addicted to getting off by watching ebony porn, but ever since he’s stumbled upon your OF account, he’s become your number one supporter.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, video call sex, fingering, jerking off, dirty talk, usage of toys, body worshipping, Jake likes to be praised, ass lover Jake, lmk if I missed anything too lazy.

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Jake was hooked, ever since he came across your post on twitter promoting your onlyfans account, he’s been draining his pockets on you every single week. He legit spoils you, from sending you cute little outfits he wants to see you wear on your streams, and all types of toys for you to play with yourself, while he abuses his dick until he can’t go on anymore.

Jake can remember the first time he ever watched Ebony porn, he was painfully hard scrolling through different porn sites, just trying to find that one good flick that would relieve all his stress from work. His usual search browser consisted of hentai porno, and of course Asian girls. But that night, he stumbled across a video titled “Big Booty Ebony girl gets pounded into mattress”.

He bit down on his bottom lip nervously, he was so hesitant at first, because of what background he comes from and out of fear of being judged by his friends and family. But Jake couldn’t resist the undying twitch in his pants, he couldn’t lie and say his cock wasn’t getting harder, as he stared at the erotic thumbnail of the video.

Finally he stopped hesitating and clicked on the video, and fuck was it the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He watched so intently while pumping his cock furiously, it was the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life. Ever since then, it’s the only porno he can get off to, saving various videos and pictures of Black pornstar models.

Jake tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently, watching as customer after customer flooded into the comic store. He had 10 minutes left in his shift, which was feeling like forever. He tried not to show his irritation towards the customer, checking his watch every second he could, his coworker was running late like always he was over it.

Thankfully his coworker finally walked through the door, yawning dramatically, as he greeted Jake. Jake simply nodded real quick, rushing from behind the counter to get to the time clock. You’re probably wondering why Jake is rushing to get back to his apartment, well, recently you hosted a raffle for a chance to have a private video call session, for your dear subscribers.

The rules were simple, never miss a single one of your streams, endless gifting, and last but not least, a picture of a dick that’s bigger than 6 inches. Lucky for Jake, he never misses your streams, always being the first person to join, gifting you almost everything off your wishlist, and not to brag, but Jake had a cock of 8inches.

It was no surprise that Jake had won, but it was still so shocking to see a dm from none other then yourself. His heart racing as he read your message, announcing that he had won the video call session, and setting up a date and time.

He then made it to his apartment, the familiar smell of his once burning candle welcomed him back.

He quickly kicked off his shoes, dropping his backpack on the couch, and making his way upstairs to his bedroom. His dick was already throbbing in his pants, as the dirty thoughts of tonight’s affairs clouded his mind.

He took a nice hot shower, shaving his pubic hair, to make sure he’s nice and smooth for you. It almost felt like he was getting ready for a date, spraying on cologne as if you could smell it through the screen, and making sure his hair looked presentable.

Jake laid in his bed, only wearing his boxers, with his laptop in front of him. You had sent him a dm, asking if he was ready to start the video call, Jake was so nervous but aroused at the same time. Finally a notification of an incoming video call popped up on Jake’s computer screen, causing him to jump at the ringing sound.

He touched up his hair a little before answering the call. His jaw dropped when he took in the sight of you sitting at your usual desk setup, your room covered in pink and white. You were just so beautiful, you were clad in a pink bikini bra, a pink thong, and your hair was braided in pink and black braids.

He just stared at you in awe, too stunned to speak, as he started to drool from the mouth. Finally your sweet voice knocked him out of his trance, his heart racing like crazy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Simjaeyun1115, I’ve been excited all day for our special session” You smiled at him, twirling the ends of your braids, as you enjoy the view of Jaeyun. Honestly you were thinking that he was probably some old guy, hiding behind the screen, being that Jaeyun didn’t have a profile picture. What you weren’t expecting was Jake to be this fucking sexy, his silky black hair falling down his face nicely, his slim yet toned physique pleasing to the eye, and he has a fucking Australian accent?!

“Hi Y/n, y-you’re so pretty wow I- wow” He tripped over his words, running his hands through his hair, biting his lip because he was so distracted by your beautiful body in the camera, you made him shit nervous. You giggled at his nervous expression, smirking and biting your lip as well, he was so freaking cute.

“How was your day Jaeyun?” You inquired, getting close to the camera and adjusting the too little bra that’s barely holding your tits in. Jake eyes followed, swallowing hard before answering your question, he was surprised you even cared about his day and he couldn’t lie and say that didn’t give him butterflies.

“My day was good, just went to class and work, that’s pretty much it” He nodded, licking his lips as he goes from staring at your pretty face, to your soft looking plush thighs. You giggled again, before putting your hands on your boobs.

“Do you like my boobies Jaeyun?, is that why you can’t pay attention to anything I’m saying?” You purr seductively, rubbing and fondling your own tits. Jake’s breath hitched, his cock jumping at the action, fuck you were his guilty pleasure.

“Y-Yes I do, s-sorry it’s just like, you’re so goddamn sexy and I’ve been waiting for this moment since I found your account and- Fuck I sound like a desperate loser I’m sorry” He rambled, nervously looking away and running his hands through his fluffy hair. You cooed at his shy expression, blowing a kiss at him through the screen.

“No need to apologize baby boy, I like your desperation so much, it’s my favorite thing in the world” You said softly, playing with your nipples as you let out little sighs of pleasure.

“Also you can call me Jake, if you don’t mind, I mean Jaeyun is my real name but I go by Jake- I’m rambling haha” He nervously laughed, adjusting his position on the bed, letting you get a peak of his boner straining through his gray boxers. You moaned out loud at the sight of it, his big bulge making your mouth water.

“Damn Jakey, you really do have a big cock, at first I thought the picture was photoshopped, but you really are packing” You said kinda in disbelief, feeling yourself growing wet in your panties. Jake’s face became beet red, nodding and swallowing hard, as your words went straight to his dick.

“Are you ready to play with me baby?” You smirked, unraveling the tie of your bikini bra, your boobs bouncing free. Jake let out a pathetic gasp, squeezing on his hard cock through his boxers, as if he’s trying to tame it.

“Fuck they’re so big, wanna suck on your pretty brown erect nipples so bad baby” He groaned, palming himself, as he watched you bounce your tits up and down in front of the camera, you know he loves when you do that.

“Would you squeeze them too baby? Would you rub and tease my sensitive nipples between your fingertips hm?” You moaned, sticking your fingers inside your mouth, as your other hand rubbed your wet pussy through your panties.

“Fuck yeah baby, I’ll suck on them, abuse those cute little nips of yours” He smirked, biting his lips, his Aussie accent was so strong and sexy fuck he was turning you on so much.

“Take your dick out please, wanna see it so badly” You purr, already lifting your body up from the chair and taking off your pink thong, a string of your clear sticky arousal following behind. Jake looked at you with hazy hooded eyes, as he lifted his body from the mattress, tugging his boxers down, his hard cock spring free with precum dripping from his pink slit.

“Such a pretty fucking cock, shit wanna suck the life out of you Jakey” You whined, his cock looked so firm, standing tall and proud, as it twitched at your praise. He smeared the precum that stained his mushroom tip, using it as lubrication and stroking his base.

“Would you suck it nice and slowly? Or would you deep throat and make it really messy for me” He asked, groaning as he stroked his cock at a slow pace, making sure not to overdo it or he would blow his load too quickly.

“I like to give messy head, lots of spit, I like my throat fucked daddy” You whined, spreading your legs open, exposing your glistening pussy to his eyes to feast on. Jake sped up his movements slightly, curses falling under his breath, as took in the sinful sight of your melaninated pussy on display for him.

“Shittt, look at that pretty little pussy, god she’s so wet, I can tell you want this just as much as I do darling” He whined, his breathing becoming harsher, as he edges himself from coming undone. You stood up from the chair disappearing from the camera, Jake frowned and pouted, asking where did you go. You came back into frame, your full nude body in the camera as you held something behind your back.

“What are you hiding princess, show me” He moaned, halting his movements as he waits for you to show him what you’re hiding.

“I got something special for you today my love” You smiled, before pulling what’s behind your back, and showing it to the camera. It was 8inch dildo, it looked exactly like Jake’s, the tip pink with veins running down the sides of it.

“Fuck baby, is that supposed to be my dick?” He said breathless, stroking himself again, as he imagines how you’re going to fuck yourself with the dildo. You nodded, biting your lip as you centered the toy on the chair.

“I searched all around to find a cock that looked identical to yours, I was able to find the perfect one online. Just wanted to make it as realistic as possible” You moaned, as you sat back down on the chair, lifting your legs and spreading them wide.

“That’s so damn hot babe, can’t wait to see you stretch that tight little cunt out” He grunted, squeezing his balls and smearing more precum on his tip that leaks out.

“How do you want me to fuck myself Jakey?” You smiled mischievously at him, playing with your boobs again.

“Want you to fuck yourself reverse cowgirl, I want to see your ass bouncing on it” He said through gritted teeth, sitting up straighter, as he leaned his back on the headboard.

“That’s your favorite huh? You like to see my fat ass bouncing on cock baby boy?” You turned your body around, your plump ass now facing the camera, as you smacked your own asscheek. Jake whined, begging for you to stop teasing and make him cum already.

You started to play with your pussy, rubbing little circles on your puffy clit. Jake watched you so intensely, his cock so stiff and wet.

“Spread that pussy open for me beautiful, I wanna see how tight she is” He said, licking his lips that’s now going dry, sweat drips down his forehead and his room now feels hot and stuffy. You obliged immediately, spreading open your slippery folds, showing off your pretty pussy.

Jake almost busted his nut, your brown pussy lips with pink inner shell, had him holding his breath. You slid two fingers inside your tight cunt, prepping yourself to take the 8inch toy. The squelching sound of your fingers penetrating your pussy, comes through Jake’s computer, He whined at the filthy sound.

“Come on baby no more teasing please, I need to see you riding my cock now” He begged, eyes wide and lust clouded. You nodded frantically, obeying his commands, you lined your hole up with the tip of the dildo, making sure you’re looking back at the camera as you start to slowly sink down on it.

You let out a little squeak, the thick mushroom tip breaching your tight little hole. Jake’s shoots worlds of praise and encouragement towards you, calling you a “good girl” or “you can take it sweetheart”.

“Oh my, oh fuck so big shit” You whined, your lips already quivering from the intense stretch. Jake chuckles softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“Sit all the way down on it babe, if I was actually there right now I won’t be nice to you I’ll make you feel it” Jake smirked, as he watched you slowly sit all the way down, letting out a pained moan. You stayed still, as you let yourself adjust to the size of it, your chest heaving up and down.

Finally the pain turned into pleasure, as you start to rock your hips back and forth slowly.

“Ahh shittt Jake, you’re so deep inside me oh my god” You screamed out, looking back at him, as you fastened your movements. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, throwing his head back as he matches your pace stroking his heavy length.

“Hell yeah baby girl, take that fucking dick just like that” Jake moaned loudly, his voice husky and deep with ecstasy. You adjusted your position, getting into a squatting position, as you started to bounce on the toy faster. The feeling of the dildo reaching so deep inside your guts, touching your cervix had you crying out loud, chanting Jake’s name like a mantra.

“Jake Jake, oh god Jake your cock feels so good, please don’t stop” You whined, feeling your stomach tightening, drool dripping from your mouth.

“Fuuuck that’s it, feels good huh? Like how I’m deep inside that kitty baby? Spread your asscheeks open for me I wanna see that little pussy being torn apart” He sighed in pleasure, pumping his cock at an almost inhuman speed. You bit your bottom lip, spreading both asscheeks apart, a ring of your creamy arousal coated on the base of the dildo.

Jake let out a pathetic whine, feeling himself getting painfully close to his breaking point, he had been edging himself for quite some time now, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“God baby, I’m close I’m close, need you to cum with me okay?” He panted, his strong accent pushing to the edge. You were already dangerously close as well, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. You reach down between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast circular motions, pushing yourself to the edge.

“JAKE! I’m gonna cum oh shit I’m gonna fucking cum” You cried out, a sudden wave of pleasure coursing through your body, as you came hard around the dildo, your creamy sticky essence, dripping down the sides of the cock. Jake followed right behind you, releasing a guttural moan, shooting thick spurts of white cum, making a mess of himself.

You both path heavily, trying to catch each other’s breath from the intense orgasms. You whined out of sensitivity, your legs trembling as you slowly pulled off of the toy, collapsing in the chair. Jake looked at you with drowsy hooded eyes, smiling at you like a lovesick idiot.

“That was the best nut i ever had in my life” Jake murmured, his body feeling weak and limp. You nodded in agreement, smiling like a lovesick fool as well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard with anyone else but you Jakey” You giggled, wiping the wet off your forehead and getting closer to the camera.

“Does that mean I have chance for another video call?” He smirked.

“Fuck a video call, how would you like to meet up?” You winked.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖤𝗇𝖽…

A/n: Gir- I- he’s so hot I’m sorry no words no words I absolutely enjoyed writing this bc wtf he’s so damn sexy😤 but I hope you guys like it! Reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated🫶🏽 not proofreading shii homegirl😀

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk

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gf2bellamy · 3 months ago

Text

caring — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: your dad does not approve of spencer content warnings: established relationship, spencer being insecure, reader's dad being sort of rude / cold to spencer , reader's dad think he's doing the best for reader, reader has a good relationship with dad, spencer shutting reader out, reader works in cyber divison, reader and spencer live together

The soft rustle of leaves brushing against the windows filled the quiet space of Spencer’s apartment. The golden hues of an autumn morning streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the cozy room.

You stood by the door, pulling your coat tighter as a brisk wind rattled against the glass outside.

Spencer approached you, a faint smile on his lips. He held your scarf in his hands, carefully unraveling it before stepping closer. “Hold still,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady.

You obeyed, smiling up at him as he draped the scarf around your neck with precision. His long fingers worked carefully, adjusting the fabric so it sat just right.

“There,” he said, stepping back to inspect his handiwork. His warm brown eyes flicked to yours, and he smiled, satisfied.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice carrying a touch of fondness.

His cheeks flushed the faintest pink as he adjusted his own scarf. “It’s windy today. I don't want you to catch a cold,” he explained, as if that needed clarification.

You chuckled, reaching out to smooth the lapel of his coat. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

Spencer tilted his head, a flicker of shyness in his expression. “Well, someone has to make sure you’re taken care of.”

The two of you were heading into work, it wasn’t an urgent case—just a simple day of catching up on paperwork.

As you slipped on your gloves, Spencer grabbed the bag slung over the arm of the couch and handed it to you.

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded, meeting his gaze with a warm smile. “Ready.”

He opened the door for you, the cool autumn breeze brushing past as you stepped outside together.

As you stepped outside, the crisp autumn air greeted you, its cool touch a refreshing contrast to the warmth of Spencer’s apartment.

You walked side by side, heading towards the car, when something caught your eye—a figure standing near the sidewalk, slightly obscured by a tree.

Your steps faltered, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to slow down. The figure was familiar, but it took a moment for your mind to register who it was.

“Dad?”

Spencer, walking just a little ahead of you, turned at the sound of your voice. His expression was a mix of confusion and surprise as you pulled your hand from his.

Without a second thought, you stepped toward the man standing in front of you, your eyes widening as you made your way over.

The last time you had seen him was a month ago, maybe more—life had been so hectic, and the guilt of not visiting more often weighed heavily on your chest.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep the mix of surprise and concern from your voice.

He looked almost like he’d been waiting for you, his weathered face softening when he saw you approaching.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said with a sheepish grin, though his eyes held a hint of something unspoken. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

You’d been busy with work, the last few weeks especially, and the guilt gnawed at you.

You’d meant to call, meant to visit—but life had gotten in the way, as it often did.

“I didn’t think I’d catch you on your way out,” your father continued, his voice laced with quiet affection.

Spencer, who had been standing off to the side, observing quietly, stepped forward, his presence almost unnoticed until he was right beside you.

The moment he moved closer, the atmosphere seemed to shift.

Your father, who had been focused on you, looked up at Spencer. For just a split second, you caught a glimmer in his eyes—something unreadable. It was the kind of look that made your chest tighten, but you didn’t mention it.

“Hello, Dr. Reid,” your father greeted your boyfriend in a polite, neutral tone, though there was an edge to it that made you instinctively glance between the two of them.

“Spencer. Spencer is fine,” Spencer replied quickly, his nervous smile never faltering as he reached out to shake your dad’s hand.

The gesture was stiff, formal and a little awkward.

You shifted uncomfortably, watching the exchange with a tightness in your chest.

You’d been dating Spencer for over a year now, but you still weren’t sure about your dad’s true feelings toward him. You knew he didn’t exactly dislike Spencer, but he certainly didn’t seem too fond of him either.

Spencer, ever perceptive, had long since picked up on your father's dismissive feelings towards him.

You could sense that Spencer, despite his usual confidence in everything else, was trying to navigate this delicate moment. But you could also see the unease behind his smile—the way his eyes darted between you and your father, trying to gauge where things stood.

You glanced at your dad, trying to shift the conversation. “Dad,” you began, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re barely wearing anything. It’s freezing out here.” You pointed at his bare neck, where the cold wind seemed to bite even more fiercely.

You saw the smallest shift in your father’s expression, something like embarrassment, before he cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing it off.

But you could tell he wasn’t.

“Let me grab a scarf from Spencer’s car,” you suggested, already taking a step toward the vehicle, but not before glancing back at the two of them.

Spencer gave you a small smile, one that was so tender it almost made your heart ache. You could see him silently telling you he was fine with you stepping away.

You nodded at him and then turned back toward your father. “I won’t be long,” you said with a small, forced smile.

As you made your way toward Spencer’s car, your thoughts felt scattered. You knew leaving wasn’t the best idea. There was a part of you that wanted to stay, to attempt to bridge whatever gap still lingered between your father and Spencer.

But the other part of you knew that staying would only make the atmosphere more unbearable—like you were sitting on a ticking time bomb, waiting for the explosion of the awkward tension.

"So my daughter is staying at your apartment?" Your father's voice was calm but laced with a quiet intensity that immediately set Spencer on edge.

Spencer, already feeling the pressure of the conversation, turned slightly to face him. His nerves betrayed him as he fiddled with the strap of his bag, the small movement signaling his unease. "

Yes....yes, sir," Spencer responded, his voice steady, but it was clear from the way his shoulders tensed that he was aware of how this conversation was going to unfold.

Your father narrowed his eyes, clearly sizing Spencer up, perhaps trying to gauge his worthiness. "How long?"

"Two months," Spencer replied, trying to keep his voice even. His eyes flicked toward you, though you were too far to hear or see. You seemed to be having trouble finding the scarf in the back of the car, your movements a bit more frantic than usual.

Spencer’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, silently hoping you would find it soon, but his thoughts were quickly dragged back to the uncomfortable exchange.

Your father shook his head, his disappointment clear. "Two months, huh? That’s quite a bit of time." He seemed to be chewing on that thought, weighing the idea with a deep furrow in his brow. "She told me you work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"I do," Spencer answered immediately.

He was starting to see where this conversation was headed, and it wasn’t a place he wanted to be.

"Must keep you busy," your father remarked, his words dripping with something more sinister. "You travel a lot, don’t you?"

"Yes," Spencer responded, his foot unconsciously tapping against the concrete, the rhythmic motion a sign of his growing anxiety.

He paused for a second, attempting to read the situation, but your father’s next words took him completely by surprise.

Your father’s expression hardened as he continued, his tone becoming more pointed. "You realize that this job of yours… it takes you away more than it keeps you here, right? You’re never really going to be here for her. And I’m not sure that’s something she deserves."

Spencer’s chest tightened as he processed the words. He hadn’t expected this kind of conversation—wasn’t ready for your father’s directness.

It was clear now that your dad wasn’t just concerned about the job; he was worried about you, about what kind of future you might have with someone like Spencer.

"I’m not saying you don’t have a good job," your father continued, his voice taking on a more condescending edge. "But you’re always going to be more away than with her. And that’s not fair."

He shook his head again, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I don’t want her alone, Spencer. I don’t want her left behind because of your career. She deserves more than that. She deserves someone who can be there for her."

The weight of his words hit Spencer like a physical blow. He felt as if the ground beneath him had shifted, the certainty he once had about his place in your life now crumbling with every syllable your father spoke.

Spencer’s stomach turned in knots, his mind racing for something to say, but all that came out was a quiet, "I… I understand."

Your father took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from Spencer. "I’m just telling you this because I care about her, Spencer. And I don’t want her getting hurt in the end." His voice softened a fraction, but the finality of his words was undeniable.

"You need to think about what you’re offering her."

Spencer stood there, speechless, his throat tight as the conversation sunk in. He hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected the quiet disapproval from your father. But now it was clear.

The man who had raised you didn’t trust Spencer to be the partner you deserved, not when Spencer’s job kept him so far from home. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond.

The air felt thick with pressure, but before he could gather his thoughts, he noticed you walking back toward them. You had the scarf in your hands.

You stopped beside Spencer, casting a quick glance at him before looking at your father.

"Everything okay?" you asked, your voice light, but there was a faint tension behind your words as you noticed the heavy silence between the two men.

Spencer took a deep breath, forcing a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, everything’s fine," he said, his voice softer than usual.

But your father didn’t respond right away. Instead, he gave Spencer one last lingering look before turning his attention back to you.

His tone had softened, but the protective distance remained. "Just remember, sweetheart," your father said, his voice almost gentle, though the underlying message was as clear as ever. "I only want what’s best for you."

You could feel the weight of the conversation hanging over you. You knew exactly how it had gone—the unspoken judgment, the subtle disapproval your father carried for Spencer.

Your gaze shifted to Spencer, who was standing beside you but not meeting your eyes. He was staring straight ahead, his expression distant, almost like he was retreating into himself.

You let out a small sigh, a mixture of frustration and helplessness filling your chest. “We have to get to work now,” you said, forcing a smile as you turned back to your father.

You were trying to maintain some normalcy, trying to erase the discomfort that had seeped into the air. “Do you want to catch dinner tonight?”

You hoped that by inviting him, you could ease the tension, maybe even convince him about how good Spencer was for you.

“No, no, I don’t want to be a bother,” your father replied quickly. He stepped forward and gave you a quick hug. “I’ll visit you some other time.”

He pulled away, and before you could say anything else, your father turned toward Spencer, giving him a quick, almost reluctant nod. “Spencer,” he muttered, and though his tone wasn’t unkind, it wasn’t friendly either.

Spencer, his shoulders tense, barely glanced up at your father. He gave a small nod back, his response as polite and curt as possible.

As your father walked away, heading toward his car, you stood there in silence with Spencer, both of you watching as he got in and drove off.

Once the sound of the car faded into the distance, you turned to Spencer, but he was already walking toward the car.

A lump formed in your throat as you watched him. You knew him too well. His silence was louder than any words he could have said.

“Spencer,” you called, your voice softer than you intended.

You could hear the slight hitch in his breath as he paused for a moment, standing with his back to you.

You sighed loudly, frustration and helplessness flooding over you as you stared at his back.

You knew your father—his protective nature, his quiet judgment, his insistence that you deserve more.

And you knew Spencer, his brilliance and kindness and all the ways he loved you, even when things were difficult.

But right now, both sides seemed to be pushing against each other, leaving you caught in the middle, trying to hold it all together.

You took a step toward him, your words almost catching in your throat.

“Spence.” you called out again.

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable, but there was a heaviness in his eyes that made your heart ache. He wasn’t angry—not at you, anyway.

"What did he say?" you asked softly, your voice careful, like stepping on glass.

Spencer paused, his shoulders stiffening. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if trying to push the memory away.

“Nothing. It’s okay,” he muttered, his tone clipped, before he turned and made his way to the driver’s seat.

The finality in his words stung, even though you knew he didn’t mean it to.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to well up. You didn’t want to cry now. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you climbed into the passenger’s seat.

The silence between you was deafening. You stared out the window, the familiar streets passing by in a blur, but your mind wasn’t on the scenery.

You found yourself missing the easy, lighthearted atmosphere that had filled Spencer’s apartment just an hour ago.

Neither of you spoke the entire drive to work. Even in the elevator, where you usually exchanged soft smiles or playful remarks, the silence persisted.

Spencer was clearly lost in thought, his brows furrowed, his gaze distant. The tension in his body hadn’t eased since the conversation with your father, and though you knew he needed time to process, the quiet was starting to feel unbearable.

You spent the morning at your desk, your fingers hovering over your keyboard, barely getting any work done.

The cyber division hadn’t assigned you much today—thankfully—but even the small tasks you had felt like too much in your distracted state.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Spencer.

By lunchtime, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You needed someone to talk to.

You rushed toward Garcia’s office. The door to her brightly decorated space was slightly ajar, and you didn’t hesitate to step inside.

Garcia was at her desk, typing furiously, her energy as electric as ever.

“Hey, sunshine!” she greeted, glancing up with a warm smile. But her expression shifted the moment she saw the look on your face. “Oh no, what happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do I need to destroy?”

You let out a shaky laugh, her dramatic response easing the tension in your chest just a little. “No, it’s not that... It’s just... I need to talk.”

Garcia’s face softened, and she swiveled her chair to face you fully. “Of course, sweetie. Sit down. Spill.”

You sat on the edge of the other chair in the room, your hands wringing in your lap as you tried to find the words. “It’s Spencer,” you admitted, your voice small.

Garcia’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t interrupt, letting you continue.

“We saw my dad this morning,” you explained, your words tumbling out in a rush. “And… it didn’t go well. My dad said something to Spencer. I don’t know what exactly, but whatever it was, it really upset him. He’s been distant ever since.” You paused, taking a deep breath as the emotions you’d been holding back threatened to spill over. “And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know what to say to him.”

Garcia reached out, placing a comforting hand on yours. “First of all, breathe. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing as she continued.

“Second,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “this is Spencer we’re talking about. You know how he is.Whatever your dad said probably hit a nerve—he’s probably overthinking every word, replaying the conversation in his head a thousand times.”

You nodded again, her words resonating. “I just don’t want him to think my dad’s opinion matters more than how I feel about him. I love him, Garcia. I don’t want him to doubt that.”

Garcia smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Then tell him that. Remind him how much he means to you. Sometimes, when people are hurting, they just need to know they’re not alone.”

Her words struck a chord, and you felt a small wave of relief wash over you. “You’re right,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I do need to talk to him.”

Garcia gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this, sunshine. Spencer loves you. He just needs a little reminder that he’s enough.”

You smiled at her, feeling a little lighter for the first time all day. “Thank you, Garcia. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Anytime,” she said with a wink. “Now, go get your genius boyfriend and fix this.”

After work, you stood by Spencer’s car, your scarf pulled tightly around your neck as the chilly evening air bit at your skin.

Normally, Spencer would meet you at your desk, both of you leaving together like clockwork, but today he’d been distant, avoiding the usual routine.

The wait felt endless as you fiddled with your scarf, trying to keep the cold at bay. Spencer was always the one to fix it for you, his fingers deft but gentle, ensuring it was snug enough to keep you warm.

The memory brought a small pang to your chest.

Finally, you spotted his familiar figure emerging through the building’s glass doors. When he reached the car, he stood just in front of you, fumbling with the keys to turn it on remotely.

“Hey,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

You leaned your back against the car, the metal cool against your coat. “Hey,” you replied softly, watching him.

Spencer moved to open the driver’s side door, and you felt a pang in your chest as he avoided lingering near you.

As he opened the door, you spoke, your voice quiet but carrying a weight you couldn’t hide. “I missed you today.”

Spencer paused, glancing at you briefly. There was something unreadable in his expression, a flicker of emotion that disappeared as quickly as it came.

Without a word, he got into the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind him.

Your heart ached at the distance between you. You slipped into the passenger’s seat, closing the door softly, the silence in the car feeling heavier than the cold outside.

Spencer adjusted his mirrors and reached for the gear shift, but before he could start the car, you reached out and placed your hand gently over his.

“Spence, come on,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “Talk to me.”

He froze under your touch, his fingers stilling against the gear shift. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice wavering. “Don’t shut me out.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hand slipping from the gear shift to rest in his lap. He still wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point outside the windshield.

You felt your throat tighten, but you pressed on. “Spence, I know my dad said something to you. I don’t know what, but I can see how much it hurt you. Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, we can work through it together.”

He turned his head slightly, finally meeting your eyes. The vulnerability there made your heart ache.

“It’s not just what he said,” Spencer admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s the truth in it. He’s right. I’m gone so much—I’ll always be gone so much. You deserve someone who’s there for you, someone who can give you the stability your father wants for you.”

Your chest tightened as his words sank in. “Spencer, no,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s not his decision to make. That’s not your decision to make. It’s mine. And I chose you. I choose you every single day.”

He looked away again, his jaw clenching as he wrestled with his thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t want you to end up resenting me because I can’t always be there.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Do you know how I feel when you’re not there?” you asked, your voice soft but unwavering. “I miss you. Of course, I do. But I don’t resent you for it, Spence. I know what your job means to you. I know how important it is. And I love that about you. I love you.”

Spencer’s gaze softened as he stared into your eyes, his brown eyes searching yours for any trace of doubt.

He couldn’t deny how much he missed you today.

“Your dad really doesn’t like me,” he mumbled, his voice low and laced with hurt. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the cracks were showing.

It wasn’t just disappointment; it was the ache of knowing one of the most important men in your life didn’t want him there.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you lifted your hand to his face. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his skin, grounding him in the moment.

“My dad doesn’t know you the way I do. He doesn’t see everything you do for me, the way you love me. And that’s on him. But I do, Spencer. I see it. I feel it. Every single day.”

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. The warmth of your palm against his cheek was enough to steady him, to remind him that no matter what anyone else thought, you were here, choosing him.

His eyes opened, meeting yours again, and for the first time that day, the tension seemed to lift slightly. He reached up, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist, holding your hand against his cheek.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the lingering sadness in his voice.

“You do,” you insisted, your voice firm. “And I’ll keep reminding you of that until you believe it.”

Spencer let out a soft, almost shaky laugh, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at you with an expression filled with both gratitude and affection.

A small smile formed on your face at the sound of his laugh. “You’re stuck with me, whether my dad likes it or not.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

“I love you too, Spence,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest.

For the first time that day, everything felt right again.

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