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kasagia · 10 months ago

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Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before?

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

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star2fishmeg · 1 month ago

Note

Luke and your neck. That’s it. That’s the thought.

Do with this what you will

You can't help but giggle with a smug grin, tilting your head to the side as Luke buries his face into your hickey-littered neck. He's got you locked onto his lap, arms wrapped around your waist tight, and he couldn't care less about how a rumbling groan emits from his throat. All he cares about is his mouth attached to your neck, swiping his tongue over the skin and sinking his teeth into you, sucking harsh, dark purple blotches with his breathing heavy. Your hand in his curls, tugging firmly with no reason other than to wind him up more and feel him pull you onto his crotch closer.

"Hmm, don't you think that's enough, Lu? I think you've made your point." You almost giggle, but he catches a glimpse of your smirk in the mirror opposite his bed. He pulls back slowly, a line of spit stuck between his bottom lip and your skin.

He looks up with the spit snapping, the small amount of baby facial hair tickling against your neck and cheek when he meets your gaze in the reflection. That's when he gets to see his work properly, your tank top hiding nothing, just the way he wants. From your collarbones up to your neck, purple and pink blossoms from his devoted onslaught of proof that you're not the single woman that mutual friend thought you were when he put his lips near your throat, hours before Luke dragged you home.

Luke trails butterfly kisses along your cheek to your ear, his breath warm as his teeth nibble the lobe, eyes closing slowly before his voice deepens and reverberates through your body, "I can't pretend like it doesn't bother me when people don't know how fucking in love I am with you."

He presses a warm kiss to the back of your neck, a patch that's still untainted, his arms unwinding, only to have his hands creep under your tank top, hiking it over your breasts to let that pretty, lacy bra present itself to him. You feel the pads of his fingertips trace down your waist with a feathery, tingly touch, as if you were made of glass, afraid to shatter you in his palms and he repeatedly drags them along your skin: up, down, up, down to run along your inner thighs before brushing over your pussy and back to your waist.

"Baby, you know I'm all yours, no one else I'd rather call my pretty boy," a soft whimper slips from you, desperate for something from his long fingers, clit throbbing in anticipation. "Need you to show me how in love you are, need to feel it, feel you inside me."

Meanwhile, his lips move against your neck, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the back of your nape and over the fresh hickeys on the sides, fervid electricity flowing through your nerves and striking you restless on his lap, squirming in his hold, his cock twitching in his jeans painfully. His mouth returns to the back of your neck, nipping at the flesh with a gruff moan and sucking with saliva trickling from the corner of his lips, fingers spreading over your waist to have his hands wrap around the sides, gliding up the curve and cupping your breasts, kneading them softly before finding their way to the clasp.

#≡lh43 #luke hughes #luke hughes smut

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certaimromance · 4 months ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 Cradle Song.

Spencer Reid x Pregnant!reader

Summary: The situation is complicated when Spencer is trapped in a lab with anthrax and worried about communicating with you and his future child one last time.

Words: 2,4k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of death, therapy. spoilers for s4 e24 ("amplification"). anthrax. established relationship. angst with a open ending. implication that the baby is a girl. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I wrote this after posting my first two one shots here (several months ago), and now I just found the uncorrected text and decided to improve it for posting lol for you to mentally decide if it's a happy or sad ending, because I could never write one that I really liked.

Your phone rang somewhere in the room, but you had no idea where. In the distance, you could hear the classical symphony by Johannes Brahms that your boyfriend had chosen especially for you, with the excuse that it would calm you and the baby every time it played.

Unfortunately, this time it wasn't helping to calm you down.

After tossing and turning around the room several times, you sat up in bed, completely exhausted and hopeless. That's when you felt the noise nearby and realized that the phone under your pillow was vibrating nonstop. You were about to snort with stress from being so distracted lately, but an automatic smile appeared on your face when you saw that it was a call from Spencer. You hadn't heard from him in several hours, the last being his usual call to wish you a good morning every time he was away on a case.

“I think I'd lose my head if I didn't have it attached to my neck.” Was the first thing you said as you tried to tuck your pillow behind your neck to make yourself more comfortable.

“You've lost your phone again.” You heard him let out a small, weak laugh, followed by a cough that caught your attention and made you frown. “Sorry, I got stuck.” He quickly excused himself.

“Are you okay?”

In response to your question, he looked around the lab where he was confined, focusing on the broken vial of anthrax on the floor that had caused all his problems so far. Reid didn't know how to explain that an ordinary case had turned into a national problem that was taking over his life and future moments with you with every passing second.

And he certainly knew even less how to tell you that this would probably be the last time you would hear from him if the team didn't find a cure soon.

“I'm fine.” He lied immediately, feeling his breathing getting harder and harder. “Really, love.” He tried to reassure you, but he lost his balance and leaned heavily on the counter, his free hand gripping it hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

All you had to do was hear him call you that and your whole world would light up, you could even feel the baby in your belly kicking at the sound of his voice. You smiled as you realized that you were both happy to hear from Spencer after not seeing him for most of the day due to the demands of his job.

Although you've never said it out loud for fear of making him feel guilty, you miss him excessively, and you're always trying to multitask and be productive, so you don't think as much about how much you need him by your side. Especially when dinner time comes and his seat next to you is empty, or when night comes and his side of the bed is cold.

Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, but you seemed to have a stronger need for him than ever.

“And how did you feel today? How are my girls? Did she kick a lot today?” The usual questions he asked you every time he was on a long case began to appear. “I need to hear everything.”

“She just kicks a lot when she listens to you and you know it.” You replied, stroking your belly out of laziness. “She’s definitely a daddy's little princess.”

The lump in his throat and all of his fears became more intense and uncontrollable. The tears he had tried to keep from escaping to stay strong and focused began to flow unchecked down his cheeks. Hearing you talk like that, knowing it might be the last time, was killing him much faster than the anthrax itself.

“And what are you doing? All your agent stuff?” You spoke again at his silence, trying to ignore the bad feeling something was giving you. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I don't think that's possible, love.” He replied quickly, his voice hoarse and raspy, the lie slipping from his lips almost too easily. “I'm doing some paperwork, it'll take some time.”

It was the second time he had called you by that nickname in just a few minutes. Something seemed a little off, as he only used it when he wanted to calm you down. You knew him too well to miss it.

“Oh, okay.” You said it in a way that showed you were a little disappointed.

Spencer was about to try to comfort you when he suddenly felt the cough return to his throat and he put a hand over his mouth to stop it. It was no use, the cough shook his whole body, spinning him around and making him pant in between. He tried to cover the phone with his hand so that the sounds coming out of his mouth would not be heard, but it was useless. The hacking cough seemed to tear at his lungs, leaving him breathless, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and he could only hope you didn't hear it, because the last thing he wanted to do was worry you. He knew it would hurt you and the baby.

“Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should drink some water. It sounds pretty bad.”

He tried to answer you right away, but the cough took over and prevented him from speaking. He gripped the phone tightly, struggling to breathe, trying to force his lungs to stop spasming. And when he finally stopped coughing, he managed to speak, his voice cracking and rather hoarse.

“Yes, I'm fine. It's probably just a cold.” He lied again, breathing shakily. “But it’s nothing so bad.”

“Take care of yourself, don't let it get worse.”

If only you knew that there was no way to make it worse, that it was already at its worst point and unlikely to improve.

“I will, don't worry.” He tries to sound convincing, but his voice comes out rough and raw, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coughing again. “Just focus on you and the baby, okay? I'll be fine.”

He spoke again so quickly that it was difficult to think of an appropriate response.

“Could you do something for me, love?”

“Of course, I'll do whatever you need.” You reply, feeling a little perplexed by the urgency in his voice.

There was a long, awkward silence after you answered, and you could feel your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You had a feeling that Spencer was holding something back from you, and the thought of what it could be made your left leg start to twitch nervously. You didn't even bother trying to make yourself more comfortable in bed.

“Go to my part of the closet, to the top drawer. Open it and take out a box next to the socks.” Finally he spoke and began to give you instructions, which you followed as best you could. “Let me know when you have it, carefully. Don't rush or-”

“I've already got it.” You interjected.

“That was quick.” You heard the surprise in his voice as you looked at the box, curious to know what was inside, after having seen it several times and thinking it was just more socks.

You smiled before speaking again. “What should I do with this, love?”

The mere word coming out of your mouth made him tremble.

Love. Love. Love.

He was your love and you were his. He refused to accept that this would be completely shattered in a matter of minutes if he could not find a way to keep his eyes open and his heart still pumping blood.

“I need you to open it, but be careful. Take your time and don't rush. Don't make any sudden movements.” He said, trying to relax so that when he spoke again his voice would be calmer, softer. “And once you open it, I want you to imagine that I'm there with you, okay?”

You couldn't help but open the box quickly, even though you were careful. You were surprised to find a bunch of envelopes and papers inside. You left them on the bed, wondering what they were about. It had been five months since you knew you were pregnant, and all the envelopes and papers were the same age according to the dates in the top corner.

“Have you seen it yet?” Spencer asked.

“I'm sorry, I don't understand, could you explain what this is?” You asked, carefully running your hand through the neatly organized papers on the bed.

“Could you close your eyes and imagine I'm with you, like I told you before?” He asked, trying to keep a neutral tone as you complied with his request.

He needed you to see him there with you, he needed to say goodbye and at least touch you one last time.

“That's what I'm doing. I'm holding your hand right now.” You said with a small smile, feeling the warmth.

It was like feeling an automatic medicine with your name on it flow through his system and relieve a few aches and pains. His hands stopped shaking automatically as he imagined himself holding yours again.

“Okay…they are notes and letters.” His voice was soft, the intensity of his heartbeat gradually increasing as he remembered each time he wrote those words to you. “I started writing them when we found out you were pregnant. They're for our baby.”

He still remembered the day he found out you were expecting a baby, his baby. He recalled how he felt his whole world stop and turn a different color, his hand sliding down to your stomach, and his breath hitching in his chest as he held your face in his hands and kissed you lovingly, overwhelmed with joy and so in love that he hadn't known what to do with his own feelings.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I...I found myself writing frequently and my therapist said it was fine…I was inspired to write about my feelings for you and our baby."

From the moment he revealed to you that he had resumed therapy with the goal of healing the wounds of childhood and becoming the father he never had, it was clear that his dedication surpassed any commitment. Now you just added to the list of reasons why he was already an exemplary father, one that any child would be lucky to have.

“Spencer, this is so sweet.” You said, completely moved and on the verge of tears, as you noticed all the dedication I had put into each and every piece of paper. “Why didn't you tell me this before?”

He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him at that moment. It was so hard to explain, to tell you that every thought and every dream he'd ever had included you and the baby now growing in your belly, and his great fear of not being able to be there for you someday.

“I-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I just wanted you to know now how much you mean to me and how blessed I am that you gave this to me. I've spent the last few months trying to even talk to some kind of God, and I don't even know if exist...” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, the words lost somewhere in his throat, making it burn and hurt. “I just...I need the baby to know what you and her mean to me, how I see you, how I feel when I wake up next to you. What I want, what I dream for her, what...”

I want to marry you.

The thought almost escaped his lips, his aching heart pounding hard against his aching chest. He felt as if a pair of strong hands were strangling him.

“I don't understand...Tell me what's going on.” You interrupted him with a shaking voice, knowing that there was definitely something more to all of this.

Oh, how you know him and his big, messy, troubled brain.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, though you couldn't see it, knowing that you already read him like an open book.

“Nothing...Nothing's wrong, love, just...” He tried to breathe deeply through the phone, his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing too fast. “I love you so much. Don't forget that, okay?”

“Spencer—”

He always loved your voice calling his name, and now, in his weak, tired, fearful state, he couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.

“I want you to know that you'll be okay, that she'll be okay, that everything will be okay, and that I love you. I love you both very much. Please, please...” He kept going. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. His mind was racing, and his words came out like a confession.

He was an expert profiler, a genius with an eidetic memory and a sharp mind, but at that moment, with his body weakened and his head spinning, he found himself unable to contain himself. He was exposed, open, and experiencing discomfort. All of the things he wanted to tell you, all of the questions he wanted to ask, and all of the concerns, worries, and thoughts in his mind came pouring out, like a dam breaking. He sensed that you could feel it through the line, and he realized that he could no longer deny it any longer.

“I love you. I have to go now.”

“Wait.”

You had a feeling something wasn't quite right, and those letters seemed to confirm your suspicions. They were a precautionary measure, a way of ensuring that everything would be taken care of in case something happened to him.

“I have to go, I'm...I'm busy, love.” He tried to sound convincing, and he knew he was failing miserably, but if he stayed a moment longer, he would continue to talk and confess more. “I love you both.”

“We love you too.”

If he wasn't already weak and trembling, hearing your voice telling him that you loved him, in that soft tone, would have made him fall to the floor again. He closed his eyes again and leaned against the wall, his own trembling hand going to cover his mouth so he wouldn't say more, because he would tell you everything if you kept talking in that sweet tone.

He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

So it was that he thought of you and your kind way of loving him before he felt his head hit the floor and his eyes close.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler

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sailorluna15 · 28 days ago

Note

what about pitfighter vi who wants nothing to do with virgins because she thinks they get too attached, and then reader is a virgin but vi really wants to fuck her anyway

"Come on, you're telling me you like used goods?"

Vi rolls her eyes and takes a swig of her beer.

"It's not used goods. I like a woman who knows what she likes and doesn't get too attached. Virgins get one taste of you and fall in love. I'm looking to fuck, not get married."

"You're thinking about it too much! It's kinda fun when they get attached. They're like little puppies."

"Nah, I'd rather stay away from that shit. I don't got time for the puppy attachment bullshit. I'm good.

That's how Vi felt until she met you.

Vi walks into the club and scans around for a nice piece of ass. She walks further into the club and sits at the bar. Waving the bartender down, he slides her a drink that she knocks back in a second.

She looks around again and spots you. Immediately, she knows who she wants to fuck tonight.

When she sees you, you're spinning upside down, naked, with your legs split in the air. Your bikini top, G-string, and dollar bills lay thrown across the stage as you dance. You look mesmerizing and delectable.

Vi walks over to the host and requests a lap dance from you.

After you finish your set, the host tells you Vi wants you. She points to the room Vi's waiting for you in and wishes you good luck.

You stalk towards the room and open the door with a smile.

"Hello, Vi?"

She nods and stares at you like a predator checking out its prey.

"Thank you for booking a dance with me. Do you want anything to drink before we get started? I wanna make sure you're comfortable." You say flirtatiously.

She shakes her head no and allows you to begin the dance. It feels like the entire world has disappeared as your bend over and shake your ass in her face.

When you turn back around to grind against her again, your faces come so close that your noses touch. The energy between you two is magnetic. As you two continue to breathe each other in, a knock comes to the door, signaling the end of the dance.

"I guess times up, huh?" Vi whispers.

"Yeah."

Silence passes by before you speak.

"My shift is over in 10 minutes if you wanna take this to my place.

Vi contemplates your offer, before agreeing.

"I'll be at the bar waiting."

A small smile graces your face as you both leave the room.

The host approaches you with a knowing look.

"Did little Ms. Emo Girl enjoy her lap dance?"

"Very much so. We're about to take it to my apartment." You say sweetly.

With a loud laugh, the host says, "Okay, girl, get you some! I want to hear all about it tomorrow."

"Oh, trust me, you will!"

You both wave your goodbyes as you walk to Vi and leave the club with her.

The air is filled with anticipation as you both make your way to your apartment.

Finally, enter your apartment and immediately jump on each other's bones.

Vi kisses and sucks on your neck as moans flow out of your mouth.

She quickly drops to her knees, removes your panties, and immediately starts to devour your pussy.

Loud groans fill the air as she sucks on your clit and sticks her tongue in your pussy. She sticks two fingers into your pussy and fingers you as she continues to eat you out. Vi stands up and leads you to the bedroom. She manhandles you onto the bed and starts to unbuckle her pants.

"Wait...wait." You plead as you put your hands on her belt buckle.

"I've...I've never done this before."

Vi laughs in disbelief and says, "You joking, right?"

You avoid her eyes and shrug your shoulders.

"Oh my God, you're serious. You're a fucking virgin."

"It's not my fault! I've...I don't get out much."

"You're literally a fucking stripper! How are you still a virgin?!" Vi exclaims.

"Me being a dancer has nothing to do with having sex or my virginity! It's a job just like any other and has nothing to do with my personal life." You say defiantly as you lean back on your hands.

"You know what? I don't even fucking care. I just wanna fuck. You take strap or what?" Vi asks with a raised brow.

"I mean, I...I guess. I've always wanted to try it." You whisper out shyly.

With a hum, Vi drops her pants and underwear simultaneously, revealing a thick 8-inch purple dildo attached to the strap.

"Is that gonna fit?" You question nervously.

"We'll find out in a few seconds, won't we? You got lube?" Vi responds

"It's in the first drawer."

Vi leans over, opens the drawer, and grabs the lube. She squirts it on the dildo and lines herself up with your pussy.

"You ready?"

You nod and relax as Vi slides inside you.

"Fuck." You breathe out.

Vi slowly fucks you until she feels you get comfortable.

"Go faster."

Vi smiles and quickens her pace. She lifts your legs, presses them to your chest, and fucking you deep into the mattress.

Moans, groans, and curses fill the air as Vi takes your virginity.

"Damn, your pussy's so tight. You wanted this bad, huh. Fucking whore."

"I'm a whore." You whine out as you clutch Vi's arms.

You feel a sting on both of your asscheeks as Vi delivers a slap to them.

"I love a girl who knows what she is."

Vi begins to rub little circles on your clit as she drives her hips faster into you.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Go ahead and cum. Cum on my dick." Vi grunts out.

One, two, three thrusts, and you unravel. Your body shakes as ecstasy overcomes you.

"Oh my God, I've never come like that in my life." You say with a heavy breath.

Vi chuckles as she removes the strap from you and helps you clean up.

After she helps you clean up, she heads towards the door. You quickly chase after her.

"Wait!"

Vi turns around with a raised eyebrow and an expectant face.

"What's your number? I wanna do this again sometime."

"555-876-0982. Don't expect a relationship, though. I'm strictly here to fuck."

You quickly write the number down and nod your head in agreement.

"Yeah, no, no, no. I want the same strictly fucking. No strings attached."

With a low 'mhmm,' Vi walks out of your apartment and heads home.

"What a fucking woman."

#arcane fanfic #vi arcane #arcane smut #violet arcane #arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x fem reader #arcane vi x reader #asks #pit fighter vi

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kaybreezy3000 · 3 months ago

Text

The Boy A Five Hargreeves / Female Reader Insert

Created for an Anon request (rated mature for explicit sexual content)

Warnings: 18-yr old Five, Lots of Smut, Five being soft and also not, CIA setting but with none of the other things happening from season 4

Anonymous asked:

will you do one or just some scenes with Five being soft with a girl he's falling for? Like first kiss stuff or other more intimate things between them? Or any stuff with him letting his guard down for someone for the first time- not with Lila please. Explicit or not explicit. Anything like this. Ty:⁠-⁠*

(For those of you who are awesome and have read all my stuff before this little smut filled story, you might notice some similarities in this one to some things my 16-year-old version of Five went through in 'Number Five and the Girl.' No worries this is much different, but I thought I'd mention it because so much of what I've written already could have filled this request, so I borrowed some ideas from hot little moments I'd sort of done before to add some fun to this Five's adventure.)

Note~This quarter end treat is broken into 5 parts of smutty progression-Your Welcome😂

The Boy

Part One: The Push

Like you had been for the last two months since Five had been assigned as your mentor and you started training with him, there you were, attached at the hip.

Walking down the hall towards your room at the CIA training facility, instead of him treating you to his endless cold glares and his usual lines of belittling bullshit, Five didn’t seem to mind as much that he’d been paired with you. Today, he seemed more than okay with it as indicated by the way he had been eyeing you up like he wanted to do much more than spar with you while the other recruits made jokes about you kicking his ass.

After asking him if he’d like to come back to your room so you could change into something warmer and then go get something to eat together somewhere better than the CIA building’s cafeteria, like he’d never done before, Five followed you, but then he was hesitating at the threshold of your room.

Playing the gentlemen and your superior, you could tell that he wasn't going to budge, so you reached out and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him. Five Hargreeves was not the type to be led by anyone, and before this he had been acting like he loathed you, so him giving in so easily was very surprising, but also very encouraging.

You felt the tension building between you all day. On the outside, Five seemed calm and in control like always, but his eyes gave him away. The way he looked at you told you a much different story when it came to him wanting to keep things strictly professional.

Feeling braver, you started thinking.

Earlier, Five and the other agents were talking about how most altercations aren’t the type where you get to stand and face each other, and even worse, during the fight, you usually both end up on the ground where things get dirty. They all said you needed to practice more realistic scenarios, but Five, as your assigned partner, didn’t seem too keen on putting his hands on you in any way that may have been considered too rough. He also didn’t want to let anyone else touch you.

Finally giving in, to your shock, as Five braced himself behind you, directing you to get out of his chokehold, his embrace was more like that of a lover than an attacker. His soft breaths tickled your ear from behind as they cascaded down your neck. When he ordered you to drop to your knees, your mind going all sorts of places other than where it should have been, you did as you were told, throwing all your weight back into him.

Falling back, your body landing on top of him, he started laughing at you, and his laughter was almost just as alarming as his dimpled smile that had been charming you anytime that he had been willing to grace you with it.

You had just crushed him, almost elbowing him in the dick, but the thing worrying you wasn’t his nuts. You were falling for him.

On your walk back to the dorms, giving Five a hard time, you said, “Why not start practicing more realistic takedowns? Why are you handling me with kid gloves?”

Five gave you one of his adorable side smirks as he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I can be harder on you if you really want, but I’d prefer to do that without an audience of assholes.”

Hmmm? You were alone now?

Five was looking around, taking in the general chaos that was the room you’d been sharing with one of the other trainees. His eyes stopped on your bed.

“Sorry. It’s really messy in here,” you said.

Five looked back up. “No, it’s not bad. Don’t apologize. You should have seen the messes my siblings made of things in the house I grew up in. This is nothing.”

“Didn’t you say you had five brothers and one sister? That’s a lot of male mess going on. Where was it you said you grew up again?”

Five didn’t answer. Instead, he sucked in his lower lip, wetting it as he looked around again. He glanced over at the few things you were allowed to keep with you while in training. He swallowed. He was staring at you so intently. He was so hard to read sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.

He seemed nervous and now you were too.

He cleared his throat as his lips turned up again. “I like working with you," he said, casually tucking his hands in his pockets. "A lot actually."

Five had no idea how handsome he was with those animated expressions of his, or how cute he was, awkwardly flirting with you. Not wanting to break the magical moment, you decided to flirt back.

“So, you wanted to see how I handle a little groundwork, but in private?” you dangled while raising both your eyebrows.

He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side. “It’s not a bad idea if you want to be able to defend yourself.”

Again, there was an air of the usual superiority in his tone that was so irritatingly him.

You scrunched your nose. “I think I can defend myself decent already, Mr. Perfect. I’m warning you now, I know how to get down and dirty. You are the one that’s the closeted softy.” You came forward, backing him closer to your bed as you moved your hand down his arm, your fingers brushing the underside of his left wrist.

Five visibly tensed, as if you’d touched him in a painful way, but there was no sign outwardly why that was. As you were looking down at the flawless patch of skin that seemed to be bothering him, he suddenly came back to himself. “You're allowed to believe that Mr. Softy crap, but it doesn’t mean you’re right,” he taunted, smiling back at you innocently.

Without warning, you pulled him closer. With a quick spin, you twisted his arm behind him, throwing all your weight into it, pushing Five on your bed.

He landed on your blankets face down, and you quickly leaped on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back to restrict his movement before he could retaliate.

“Impressive,” he huffed, laughing as he lay there, pretending to be vanquished.

Your victory didn’t last long, despite your best efforts. Five effortlessly ripped his arms free of your hold. Then he sprang up from the bed, sweeping you up with him before nailing you down on the mattress.

In one swift motion, he had you pinned with your arms above your head. He lay over you, forcing your legs wide with his knees.

“You always need to be alert," he scolded. "Things can change in the blink of an eye. If you let your guard down, you may find yourself in a position you don't want to be in."

The way he was schooling you, you knew he was genuinely trying to teach you something, but you were also surer than ever that he was testing you in a way that had nothing to do with your training.

“Oh, I don’t know about not wanting to be in this situation..." You gave him a playful wink, one you knew would fluster him. "The view isn't too bad down here. For all you know, I may have wanted to be in this position. Maybe it was all part of my master plan. Did you ever think of that, smarty pants?”

Five’s cool smile melted into something feral looking.

All at once he secured both your wrists in one of his hands. Then he painstakingly slowly ran the fingers of his other hand down the sensitive underside of your exposed left arm.

“Oh FFffff! Five! Ss-stop that's, please sto-” you laughed and gasped, wriggling like a manic as you tried to escape.

He didn’t relent. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. You had nothing on, but your cropped workout top and equally tight spandex shorts and he was in his usual gym clothes of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. You’d been training together like that for hours, but now your lack of normal skin covering clothing was making this feel much different than if you’d been sitting together, with him helping you study while he was dressed in his signature three-piece suit and you in your more female version of business attire.

You were in your bed of all places, and that look in his eyes, and the feeling of him pressing himself on you the way he was!

He looked so unbelievably hot and there you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. “Seriously, that tickles!”

“Awww,” he drawled, while looking fake sorry for you. “Ever hear that saying, you reap what you sow? I felt you trying to get a rise out of me with those evil girl talons of yours. You made me look like a fucking idiot today on the mats when you dug your fingers into my ribs, and you know damn well what you were doing had nothing to do with self-defense.”

Your frantic pleas to make him stop only seemed to spur him on more, because after that, his hand danced along the length of your exposed side, then down your quivering stomach.

“Five Hargreeves…I think they are right, you don’t fight fair,” you accused in between breathless panting.

“Doesn’t matter if you fight fair. It only matters if you win.” The sultry tenor of Five’s voice as he leaned down, humming against your skin, only furthered your inability to think.

To add to your shock, he began peppering kisses along your shoulder, then up your neck.

Five was not affectionate. He was dangerously smart, aloof, and even scary sometimes, but with that maneuver, he’d just proved that there was more to him than the closed off, emotionless person he projected himself to be.

His gentle fingers trailed across your abdomen, sending shivers through your entire body. Perhaps feeling you struggling to hold yourself together, or maybe just because he was an arrogant shit, Five suddenly had to bury his loud burst of laughter into your neck, and with it, he let his nose brush against your skin in such a loving way it made you squirm all over again.

“Doesn’t really seem to bother you…me not fighting fair and all,” he breathed. He smiled against your neck as he brought his lips back down to your shoulder.

You were sure he said something else after that, but for the life of you, you couldn’t concentrate enough to register what it was, not when his teeth were lightly nipping at the bottom of your ear and his fingers were moving back up, his thumb grazing over the mounded fabric of your top.

As he let out the quietest moan from the feel of your breasts under his hand, you couldn’t help it either when your body reactively rocked up against him.

As soon as you did that, Five abruptly pulled back from his onslaught of kisses, his hand lowering as he attempted to shift himself so he wasn’t lying on top of you as much. He looked down, his expression unreadable as he sucked in a breath, as if needing the extra air to voice what was on his mind, but instead of coming out with it, he grimaced and looked away, seeming to think better of it.

Your faces were still so close, so you rose up on your shoulders as much as he’d let you, clearing the gap. You quietly said his name, wishing he would just look at you again. It sounded like a plea, and it was.

Five’s lips collided with yours. He released your hands, while at the same time pivoting his weight on both his forearms so he could control how much of his weight he was pressing into you.

His kiss was urgent, and wild, and beautifully sloppy.

He was becoming more and more agitated the more he let himself explore your mouth with his trembling lips. His breathing was becoming heavier, and you could tell he wanted to move his hips into your pelvis more than he was already rocking and digging them.

It must have felt so good to him as is though, because he was getting hard, and the young man, who for the last few months was never the type to show any sign of vulnerability, actually whimpered, and holy fuck was that hot.

Shocked by his own verbal moment of weakness, Five pulled away again, but just as fast, you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and steered him back. Kissing him softly, you let your tongue run along his lower lip.

He shut his eyes. His expression looked so pained. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. “If you knew all the horrible things I have done, you wouldn’t look up to me the way you do.” He opened his eyes. “On top of all that, I am way too old for you.”

Sure… Okay. All this had to be because Five was just worried that he was your mentor and that this kind of relationship wasn’t something your superiors would be okay with. That made sense but…

You smiled, then said, “Oh my God, Five! Who says I look up to you? And I am older than you, you self-absorbed jerk, who apparently never bothered to read my bio.”

With that and his exceptionally sour expression that followed, you started laughing at him, and about the entire situation because you were older. Only by a year, but really…

What was he talking about?

Five opened his mouth a few times while trying to figure out a retort, so you came at him before he could, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth with kittenish feistiness, and that seemed to rattle him like nothing else had so far, and it sent him coming back at you like a man being torn apart from the inside out.

After that, Five started to let his tongue and teeth explore more freely and it was clear that was something he had wanted to do, only like all of this, he hadn’t been sure of it being okay until you’d made the first move.

He always smelled good. You knew that before, but wow. Five tasted like what you'd think comfort would taste like if it had a taste; like the warmth of good coffee mixed with an old-fashioned dinner mint. He was the embodiment of pleasure, and his lean body was built to move in more ways than you’d seen him work it while in the gym when beating the shit out of the other much larger agents.

Having your hands free to do as they wished, you dropped them both down under Five as he lifted up just a little.

You let the tips of your fingers drift down the length of his tight stomach muscles, moving them with a feather-light touch. You inched them along slower and slower after you passed over his navel, going up under his shirt, following the thin trail of dark hair that led from there, down into his shorts.

Five's hands clenched in the sheets at your sides. Every muscle in his abdomen shuddered under your touch, quivering in anticipation as you played with the dangling strings that were meant to keep his shorts around his waist.

He pulled away from your kiss to catch his breath, burrowing his face against the side of your neck. “Holy Shit…” he breathed, in between his wet kisses. His body dropped lower, his torso falling flush against the heat between your legs for just a moment before he quickly readjusted his hips on the mattress next to you.

Before he could fully right himself by pulling back up on his elbows and roll away from you completely, you brought your hand back up to his neck, your fingers lacing through his incredibly soft hair. "It felt good. Don’t stop," you whispered.

Looking utterly broken; he began kissing your neck, moving upwards again as he simultaneously started to move his shaft against the side of your leg.

Five nipped at your ear harder than he had been before and the sensation had you digging your nails across his back, and that seemed to excite him even more. In a frenzy, he started to run his tongue along, first the shell of your ear, then anywhere he could get at.

That boy was good, and not just with a gun while at the shooting range. The ache between your legs was becoming more intense with each shameless thing he did to you.

When Five satisfied himself with marking your neck, he moved to your collarbone. It felt like he was studying every inch of you with his mouth, gauging your reactions as he went. He first kissed, then licked, then sucked gently along the rolling plains of your rapidly rising and falling chest. It felt so amazing that you had to dig your feet into the bed to contain yourself.

"Fuck," he groaned as he threw his leg over yours and repositioned himself fully on top of you.

You whined as his hardened length nudged between your legs, then cruelly moved away. Thankfully, the sound of your discontent seemed to make Five bolder, and he did it again, then moved his mouth lower, applying kisses along the edges of your workout top, playfully pulling it up with his teeth.

Your toes curled as you squirmed under him.

You were both oblivious to the world going on around you when suddenly you pulled your attention away from him because you thought you heard something. Five must have heard it too because all at once he stopped what he was doing. His entire body froze.

“Ahem,” coughed a voice from over Five's shoulder.

You leaned up, peering over him. Even before seeing her, you knew who it was.

“Hey…” you weakly offered your roommate.

She was already smiling like a total goofball, and her expression grew bigger and happier as she took in the extent of your blushing state and that of your equally turned-on partner in crime.

She mouthed, “Is that who I think it is?”

The slow shake of your head confirmed her suspicions. She cleared her throat obnoxiously, then said, “It’s about time you guys got past all your staring at each other with those disgusting puppy dog eyes.”

With his face still buried against your neck, Five let out the tiniest sound, like that of the sad little puppy she’d just compared him to, then he growled, “You have no idea what you are talking about because I have never looked at anyone like that.”

“Er, whatever you say… So, ah…sorry guys. I will just, ah…go,” your friend said as she jerked her finger and thumb back towards the hall, but she was still dawdling, enjoying the site of Five, laying there still as could be, trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t just busted while trying to dry fuck you like you were both horny teenagers that were still in high school.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Five groaned, as he started moving off of you.

Your roommate was leaving at that point, but hearing Five's frustrated oration, she turned back around, shooting you a huge cat just ate the canary grin before quietly shutting the door behind her.

Next to you, Five tipped his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. It looked like he was praying it would fall on him.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Can’t I ever get a break?”

It was obvious Five was upset about getting walked in on because this could mean his job, but you also knew that he had to be upset because he’d just totally been cock-blocked, and if he hadn't been, you weren’t sure what would have happened or how far things would have gone.

Thinking of the impressively engorged package he was dealing with in his gym shorts, you rolled over, facing him, your lower lip pouty. “Ah, yeah… So....that sucked,” you said, stating the obvious as you tried to suppress your giggle.

Five just stared at you and groaned again. By the look on his face, you were pretty sure he was ready to die, and you weren’t about to let that happen, so you were about to suggest a different kind of sucking, but first you thought you should address his other big concern.

“Hey, don’t worry," you said, laying your hand on his tensed forearm. "I swear she won’t say anything. She already knew I had a huge crush on you. Lots of girls here would die to be in my shoes because that would mean they would get to enjoy your scowls and contemptuous comments like I do.” You tried a reassuring smile, getting serious. “Really, she’s trustworthy.”

What you said seemed to help. At least it brought a smile back to Five’s tightly pursed lips.

“You are full of shit,” he shot back, not believing you, but about which part, you weren’t sure. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he continued before you could insist that you weren’t lying about any of it. “If she says anything, I am done, but at least I got to hump you for three minutes, so that was totally worth throwing away five years of my hard work to get myself in this pathetically lame position that I’ve waited a lifetime to totally fuck up.”

He threw a hand over his face, then back into his chocolatey mess of hair.

Somehow, Five managed to sound both irritated, but also so funny, which was just one of the many things that made you like him so much. The light in his eyes was coming back and he hadn’t tried to touch you again. It was obvious your little moment with him was over, and he was doing his best to calm himself down, but something else seemed off.

You frowned, but you weren’t mad at all because you mostly understood why he’d said all that. You’d feel awful if he was let go because of you. Everyone knew that Five was amazing at his job. He was a bona fide genius the CIA had found at a very young age while he was crushing his studies to get through his PhD. His being a fully contracted agent in the CIA at so young was unheard of.

Compared to him, you were only there as an intern and had years ahead of you to actually get hired and prove yourself the way he already had.

Once you managed to control your brain again, you finally responded, and stopped staring at him like you wanted to be devoured by his perfect mouth.

You took your hand off his arm, then quietly said, “I suppose you’d rather not get lunch with me now?”

His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in that way of his. “I suppose, it would be better if we didn’t,” he said with eyebrows furrowed slightly, indicating he was upset about something, but if it was about getting busted and potentially losing his job or something more, you couldn’t tell.

“That’s it then…? That is unless you want to stay," you offered, then purposely glanced at your bedding still bunched to his crotch. "You could show me a few more moves?”

After a few seconds, Five cleared his throat and grinned, making your heart skip a beat. “We better not do that,” he said, then he looked away. “You go first. I just need a minute. I’ll lock your door on the way out.”

“Okay,” you replied, your heart sinking through the floorboards.

"Okay," he agreed.

He lay there on his side, head propped up on his arm, you threw on a baggy sweatshirt and some jogging pants. After covering yourself, you turned. “See you later?”

“Sure,” he said, still staring off as if you weren’t even there.

Chapter Two:

Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of young guy hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed.

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies other than Dolores was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day. He believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much, and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pleasure pillows, and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things that had happened, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

When did I become such a perverted degenerate? he silently asked himself.

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, looking over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off.

He remembered how comfortable he was with you there.

He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, with you touching his things.

He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there he was with his hand in an area on you that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, maybe?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned to him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for what felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or God help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, your fingers already playing with the ends of hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation.

You grinned in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your smile on for him. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong. It's not even midnight.”

You moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants, and he let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that…

What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect, preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his dress shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now. I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him.

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm. She was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips mark a path along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl with his kisses.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time.

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me like that. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway. He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear.

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having his way with your tits.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move to his glans, over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that… Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you like this to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but…but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he thought, while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Before tomorrow, make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get the upper hand.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away and end this.

Part Two: Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.

That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”

You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.

What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.