#just ordered a pair of air force

[visenyatargaryen]

when i feel depressed i just order something online. sertraline who

[gumified]

KILLSHOT !

pairing: mafia boss!toji x spy fem!reader

summary: you're tasked with the mission of spying and killing toji fushiguro so why now are you being fucked stupid in some dirty bathroom?

content: 6.3k, smut, big dick!toji, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, orgasm control, orgasm denial, humiliation kink, creampie, dumbification, sucking on fingers (no clue if that's a thing), dacryphilia, oral (male. receiving), fingering, squirting, public sex (it's in a club bathroom)

note: i hate all of you who decided to suddenly make frat boy!gojo take the lead when i basically finished this fic TT (i don't really i'm gonna start on that one as soon as i post this) but here you have mafia boss!toji, enjoy my lovesss (not proof read at all rip)

When you step into the club the first thing that hits you is the heat followed closely by the cacophony of music and voices. The bass reverberates through your body, each thud matching the pounding of your heart. The air is thick with a mix of sweat, perfume, and the faint scent of alcohol. You weave through the throngs of people, your senses on high alert. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of a couple locked in a passionate embrace, or friends shouting to be heard over the deafening music. It's a sea of movement, a blur of colours and shadows that makes it almost impossible to focus.

The music is still pounding and it infiltrates your ears making it near impossible to focus. Your eyes search the crowd for your target: Toji Fushiguro. The intel said he’d be here tonight, but pinpointing one man in this chaos feels like a near-impossible task. You had been tasked to go undercover and take out one of the most notorious crime lords in the country. It had started simple really - tailing him during the day, intercepting any letters or parcels - but now was when it all went done. Today is the day you will finally finish off Toji Fushiguro.

You edge closer to the bar hoping to catch a clearer view. The bartender is a blur of motion, pouring drinks and exchanging money with patrons who shout their orders over the deafening music. You stand on your toes, craning your neck to get a better look across the room. Still nothing. A group of obviously drunk men jostles past you and in doing so trudging on your feet. You force yourself to bite back a curse, keeping your cool. You can’t afford to draw attention to yourself. Not here, not now.

“So many fucking people.” You mutter under your breath as your eyes still search the crowd. You’re hyper aware of the weapon you have by your side, cunningly concealed. You continue to look around, pushing through the crowd as you try desperately not to get swallowed up by the swarms of people. Then, you catch a glimpse – tall, broad-shouldered, a flash of a sharp jawline in the dim light. As quickly as you see him he disappears again. “Is that him?” You whisper to yourself as you crane your neck to try and look for your target once more.

You’re more forceful now, pushing through the crowd as you struggle to move through the pack. Almost there. You just need to get a little closer, verify that it's him. It’s hard to even breathe in the club but once you make your way out of the throngs of people you see him - Toji Fushiguro.

There were always rumours surrounding the dangerous man but they didn’t do him justice. He was even more imposing in person, his rugged appearance making him stand out in any crowd.  His dark hair is tousled just so, falling across his forehead in a way that frames his sharp, chiselled features perfectly. His eyes are piercing, a deep smouldering gaze that seems to see right through you. His jawline is strong and his lips are set in a slight smirk.

He's dressed in a fitted black shirt that hugs his muscular frame, the fabric straining slightly against his broad chest and shoulders. He isn’t sporting anything too flashy and if no one knew his reputation they would’ve assumed he was a normal man. You watch as he crosses his arms and the shirt pulls taut against his muscles. There’s a sliver of his chest that you manage to see and a hint of his tattoos peek through. It’s ridiculous but just looking at him has your panties soaking and you know it’s so wrong but you can’t help it. Through the weeks of trailing after him you never thought you would finally see him so up close. 

Your heart skips a beat. Target acquired. Now, the real challenge begins.

You approach him, weaving through the last few bodies that separate you. He hasn't noticed you yet. But you know you have to play this carefully. One wrong move, and it could all fall apart.

As you draw closer to him you try your best to put on the best smile you could, one that exuded innocence. You relaxed your own muscles and tried to calm your beating heart. "Fancy seeing you here." You lean in slightly, enough to make it seem intimate, but not desperate.

Toji's eyes snap to you, and for a moment, there's a flicker of surprise. Then his expression smooths into one of casual interest. "Is that so?" He replies, his voice a deep velvety rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes look you up and down, assessing your frame carefully before he settles on your face. "And who might you be?"

You see the smirk playing at his lips and you’re not quite sure what he’s hinting at. It’s impossible to read Toji Fushiguro and it’s even harder to do it when it’s dark and loud. You finally step closer, closing the distance between the both of you. 

"Just a girl looking for a good time." Your fingers brush against his arm. "And you seem like just the man to show me one."

He raises an eyebrow, a slow deliberate smile spreading across his face. “Is that right? His hand comes up, fingers trailing lightly along your arm sending sparks of electricity through your skin. You let out a soft involuntary gasp, your heart racing faster. He leans in, lips just inches from your ear. “But surely a little spy like yourself shouldn’t be wandering around a stuffy club and asking people like me to fuck them?”

You freeze. Your blood runs cold at his words. Silence envelops you and you can’t do anything but stay rooted in the spot. Toji’s grip on your arm tightens and it feels like you’re being burnt by scalding hot iron. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know it’s stupid to even deny it, not when you’ve so obviously given yourself away, not when you’re not even able to look him in the eye. “I’m not a spy.”

"Oh, don't play dumb." His tone shifts into something much more sinister, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something much darker. "I've known you were watching me since the moment you walked in. So tell me, what do you want with me?"

Panic bubbles up inside you but you force it down. You can't afford to lose your nerve now. You have to stay calm, have to find a way to turn this around. You swallow hard, trying to keep your mind composed. “Like I said, I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Toji's eyes flicker with something that might be amusement but it's hard to tell. His eyes darken with a predatory gleam. “You’re a stubborn one you are. Never met a little spy like you most would have been cowering at my feet by now but you’re still here denying everything.” His fingers trail up to your face and you instinctively flinch when he touches your cheek and Toji smirks. “But doll you’re forgetting just how often I deal with people like you so don’t bother denying it anymore okay? I've been in this business too long to fall for such weak games.”

It’s so stupid how the man in front of you is able to instil fear in everyone yet as you stand in front of him all you can think about is how his grip would feel around your neck and how his fingers would feel buried in your pussy. It’s so wrong and so unprofessional but seeing Toji up close was something else. He was insanely attractive and there was something exciting about the way he looked at you as if he was going to devour you whole. 

“Unless you want your pretty little head to be blown off you better answer my question.” All playfulness was gone in his stare instead what replaced it was cold hard emptiness. His expression is long gone and he only looks at you with a blankness that you’re unable to pinpoint. “So I’m gonna ask you again, what do you want with me?”

You feel your breath stuck in your throat and you know it’s no use denying it anymore but you’re unwilling to give up. “How did you find out?” The tremor in your voice is obvious despite your best efforts to keep it at bay.

Toji smirks. "You gave yourself away the moment you walked in. Your eyes. They were too focused, too calculating. Not the eyes of someone here to have a good time." You blink, processing his words, your mind racing. "And the way you moved." He continues, his voice a low seductive purr. "Too precise, too careful. Like a hunter. Or a spy."

Your heart sinks as his words hit home. You had been so careful but clearly not careful enough. "So, what now?"

Toji's smile widens and he leans even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Now, we play a different game." He says softly. "One where you try to convince me to let you go. And I decide just how much I want to make you squirm."

You feel yourself grow even hotter at his words and you catch the sight of his lips and oh how badly you want to grab his face and smash your mouth to his. Fuck it’s a bad idea but it’s all you can think about in this moment. And then it happens, you’re grabbing his shirt, pulling him down as you crash your lips to his and Toji’s eyes widen in surprise. You take a second to realise what you've done but just as you pull away Toji’s already tugging you to somewhere else. You can barely keep up as he leads you, weaving expertly through the sea of bodies.

"Where are we going?" You manage to gasp out, struggling to be heard over the pounding bass. 

"Somewhere more private."

You don't have time to protest or question further as he drags you down a dimly lit hallway away from the main floor. The noise of the club dims slightly and the music becomes a muted throb behind the walls. You barely notice the curious glances from a few stragglers in the hallway as Toji pushes open a door with a bold "Restrooms" sign hanging on it. The moment you step inside he slams the door shut, the sound echoing in the small tiled space. His lips are on yours in an instant, the kiss fierce and demanding. It’s as if all the raw tension explodes right there and then.

He pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, his body pressed firmly against yours. His hands roam over your body, rough and possessive. You respond  just as eagerly, tongues tangling with each other as you reach your hands into his hair. You moan into his mouth and the sound is swallowed by the relentless kiss. His hands are everywhere, sliding up your thighs, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.

"Tell me you want this." He murmurs against your lips.

"I want this." You breathe as your hands clutch at his shoulders pulling him closer. "I want you."

Suddenly you’re ripping each others’ clothes off at light speed. The buttons on his shirt fall off as you try your best to unbutton the first few before giving up and deciding to just rip it off. Toji chuckles at your fast pace, a smirk making its way onto his face. You put a hand over his mouth, already annoyed by the sound of his laughter and you didn’t want to hear what was going to come out of his mouth next. He reaches a hand up to wrestle yours away from his face.

“You’re awfully eager for someone who was just trying to kill me?” He locks his eyes with yours and you swear you feel your pussy clench around thin air. “I’d say you’re desperate for a good fucking aren’t you doll?”

“Shut the fuck up Fushiguro.”

Toji grins at your response, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Your gaze drifts downward. The dim lighting accentuates the tight muscles that ripple beneath his skin. You can see the faint sheen of sweat, highlighting the contours of his abs, the hard lines of his chest. He takes advantage of your momentary distraction, flipping you around and pressing you against the wall with a thud. His hands are everywhere at once, rough and demanding, as if he's trying to imprint himself onto your very skin. You arch into his touch as a moan escapes your lips despite yourself.

"See, I knew you wanted this." He murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You’re practically begging for it."

His words send a shiver down your spine and you grind back against him, eliciting a low groan from his throat. "Don’t flatter yourself." You manage to gasp out.

He laughs, a deep rumbling sound that you can feel reverberate through his chest. "You can't lie to me, doll." One of his hands slips beneath your waistband, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin there. "Your body knows exactly what it wants."

Your breath hitches, and you bite your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to spill out. It’s beyond humiliating how he has you pressed up against the way but you can’t deny how much you want the man in front of you. His touch is electrifying and he inches closer and closer to the heat between your legs. You whine when he cups your pussy and Toji simply smirks at the reaction you give him. His hand stays there for a moment and you can feel the warmth he radiates. 

“Think you can handle me Fushiguro?” You glare at him although there’s a hint of desire beneath your angry gaze. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Toji grin, his face leaning close to yours. He’s too close and you have to resist the urge to pull him in for a kiss. “Good thing I love danger then.”

Before you can even respond he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. It’s rough and messy and far from sweet but you don’t mind. You feel his tongue pry open your mouth and you let him in easily. He tastes like whiskey and you find that you don’t mind the sharp taste of alcohol he has on him. You moan as he rubs small circles on your clit, his fingers inching dangerously closer to your pussyhole. He presses his hips against yours and you can feel his cock hard against your thigh. The both of you kiss for what seems like forever. Your eyes constantly shut as you enjoy the taste of him, the touch of him, the scent of him. Everything is so intoxicating that you can’t refuse to want more. Toji is too much to handle but you’ve always liked a challenge.

His fingers finally reach to pull aside your panties, plunging his wet digits into your heat. You moan loudly at the contact. It felt so different to the hours you spent trying to please yourself during the night, the fruitless attempts at trying to make yourself cum. Toji did it so easily, too easily. He smirks as he watches you squirm in his grasp, clutching onto his shoulders as if they were your lifeline. You feel your pussy squeeze around his fingers and he groans.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Why have you been neglecting this pretty thing for so long, hm doll?” You let out another breathy moan at his words. In truth you haven’t had the time to have hookups and your job didn’t exactly give you lots of free time. Most nights were spent on your own, in your bed. “Don’t worry I’ll give her a good fucking today.” He purrs in your ear and you feel your own body melt to his touch.

“F-Fushiguro you’re such a-ahh!” Your sentence is cut short as you feel him curl his fingers and he prods at that spot that has you jolting forward with a long moan. Toji grins wickedly at your reaction. He loves the way you give him such innocent but lewd expressions that he can’t help but want to ravish you entirely. “You’re such a t-tease.”

You give him another glare but this time it’s telling him to hurry up and fuck you because you’re impatient. You’ve never been good at biding your time well and all you want right now is his cock inside you. Toji’s other hand makes its way up your chest, he cups one of your tits and you whimper as he squeezes it hard. You’re sensitive beyond belief and his touch only stimulates you more. You let out a strangled cry when he pinches your nipple, playing with it cruelly with his rough fingers. You feel every crack, every line on his fingertips and it makes you go crazy.

“Tell me what you want doll.” 

Toji whispers as he leans in to place hot-mouthed kisses across your neck. You mewl at his touch as you feel his lips move along your body as he kisses and licks your smooth skin. You feel his breath against you and it’s weirdly comforting in a way. He’s so close to you that it sends you into a frenzy. Your hands reach up to knot into his hair, pushing him impossibly closer towards you. His fingers never stop their movements, each thrust causing a jolt of pleasure to sing through your body. You can do nothing but moan as he scissors you open, adding more fingers in as you indulge him in your noises.

“Be a good girl and tell me what you want from me.”

His voice is deep and oh so seductive. You’re sure he’s an incubus in disguise by the sheer aura he exudes. His confidence in himself and his abilities irritate you beyond belief but you know it’s not misplaced by the way he’s making you fall apart on his fingers alone. Your eyes rake over his muscled body, the darky inky tattoos that littler his skin. You feel your fingertips trace each individual art piece and then suddenly you’re falling into his chest. 

“F-Fuck off.” You manage to stutter out.

Toji smirks when he feels your pussy throb and drip. The wet sounds of your sopping cunt fill his ears and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard something so addictive in forever. Paired with your desperate moans he can’t help but want more of you. Your pussy tightens around his digits and you try to keep yourself up but it proves difficult. You’re gasping for air, feeling light-headed. Toji notices and he grins at your cuteness. 

“You’re so adorable when you want to be.” He sighs as he twirls a strand of your hair. You’re embarrassingly close and all you need is for another curl of Toji’s deliciously thick fingers to bring you closer to the edge. You feel yourself clenching around him, your gummy walls begging for your orgasm but you refuse to beg, not to him of all people. Toji grins at your determined expression, it really is cute how you think you have some sort of power in this situation.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his thumb rub your clit harshly, bringing you so close to your release. “T-Toji I’m so, nghhh, I’m s-so close! Oh my goddd-” Your words are cut off as yet another lewd moan escapes your lips. You’re so close and you can feel it. You feel your pussy tighten and your body starts shaking with pleasure. You just need one more push, one final push.

And then without any warning it’s all gone. Your eyes shoot open and you see the smug face of Toji Fushiguro, fingers in his mouth as he sucks them sensually. You see the way your arousal coats his digits as he places them in his mouth, tongue swirling over them. Your thighs clench together as you watch him. He’s way too sexy for his own good. Toji’s smirking at you widely and you would have found it hot if he hadn’t just ripped your orgasm away from you. You glare at him, ready to pounce.

“Why the fuck would you even-”

“Shame you’re a brat most of the time.” He interrupts you, fingers still in his mouth. You scowl at his comment despite having him just inside you. “We need to learn how to shut you up don’t you think?”

It’s so fucking hot how he’s able to get you on your knees so quickly. The floor might be dirty but you couldn’t care less. You don’t know what overcomes you but your mouth is already open when he’s unbuckling his belt and when you see his cock you only salivate more. Toji’s big, that's undeniable. His cock is so pretty, the prettiest you’ve ever seen. He’s so thick and the tip’s flushed pink and there’s pre cum oozing out. He smirks at your awe, bringing his length closer to your face as you watch, pussy pulsating at the sight. 

“You look like such a desperate slut. What would the higher ups say if they say you like this huh doll?” His tone is teasing and he inches his cock towards your open mouth and you take him slowly. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance as you feel him fill your mouth. You look up at him and Toji moans as he feels your tongue swirl around his top. “There we go, such a good girl f’me.”

His praise sings through your ears and you feel yourself grow hot just at his words. Your hands reach up to wrap around the base of his cock as you take the first few inches. Toji brushes a hand through your hair and you lean into his grasp before squealing when he tugs harshly. Pain shoots through your head as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes. You see the dark dangerous glint that’s in them.

“You’re gonna suck like you mean it doll.” He growls before thrusting into your mouth causing you to gag as his length hits the back of your throat. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe through your nose. His scent fills your senses and it’s poisonous how much you want him. “Go on then, what’s taking you so long?”

You whimper as you feel his tight grasp on your hair tighten and you get to work. You bob your head up and down, sucking him dry as you moan around his length repeatedly. Toji smirks when he sees you choking on him. He watches as you try your best to take all of him while looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. He loves the way you’re so obviously struggling with drool dripping out of your mouth yet you’re still so determined. It’s pathetic but he loves it so much.

“Just a nasty cockslut aren’t you?” Toji snarls as he buries you full of him. You whine in retaliation, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you do so. “Came here to kill me but you’re sucking me off instead, god what a filthy whore.”

It’s humiliating and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment. If anyone were to walk in and find the both of you like this that would be horrifying. But you know that won’t happen since Toji probably has his men positioned outside the bathroom denying anyone access as he fucks you silly then again he might not.

“Nghh- T-Toji can’t, hnngh, breathe-” You manage to say despite your best efforts the phrase comes out more like a jumbled mess of words rather than a coherent sentence. If Toji understands you he ignores you completely. He coos as you try your ebay to take all of him. You look so cute on your knees sucking him off that he could get used to seeing you like this. 

You feel your mind turn foggy as your throat starts to feel bruised from the sheer force he is thrusting into you with. Your knees have been hurting from kneeling for so long that you have resorted to sitting down fully as you take his cock. Saliva drips from your chin and you know it’s messy and you know it’s disgusting but you feel so horny. Your thighs clench as you watch the man above you fuck your mouth. Toji’s abs glisten with sweat and your eyes trail his toned body. His thighs are thick and your imagination runs wild as you think about what you can do sitting on them. Your pussy throbs at the thought.

“You’re thinking dirty thoughts aren’t you doll?” Toji catches your wandering eyes and his hand comes down to grip your chin. You whimper. “C’mon now why don’t you focus on one thing at a time.”

You nod your head as the tears spill from your eyes. Toji only grins as he lets you get him off. He watches as you let him fuck your mouth quicker as you moan like a slut beneath him. He sees the way your expression twists into one of pure pleasure every time he pulls on your hair and he relishes in the fact he can make you feel so good. He moans every time he feels your cute little tongue swipe against his cockhead, teasing him further to his release. You look up to him with those seemingly innocent eyes and it has him edging closer and closer.

“You’re gonna make me, f-ffuckk, cum if you’re not careful doll.”

Toji watches as your eyes light up at the mention of him filling your mouth and it only spurs him on. You’re so cute and he wants to - no needs to - ruin you. You suck harder trying your hardest to bring him to his orgasm and Toji lets out a mix of curses as his cock twitches in your mouth. You feel his cock throb before he bursts inside of you. His thick cum coats your tongue and you feel the hot sensation spread throughout your body. Toji doesn’t taste horrible and it isn’t the bitter or sour taste that you’re used to. 

He pulls out of your mouth once he’s done spurting all of his cum into your mouth and he grins when you open showing him you've swallowed it all. He brushes his thumb over your lips and you feel him swipe the mixture of liquid over your chin. You would feel embarrassed of the mess you’ve made but the sheer neediness of your pussy distracts you from everything else.

“Please…” You whisper, your voice hoarse. You’ve long abandoned any self respect or dignity you have. All you need now is his cock buried in your heat, fucking you senseless. You couldn’t care for rules or procedures. You need Toji Fushiguro and you need him now. “Please fuck me Toji.”

The man in question smirks at your demand. He stares at you, dark eyes boring into your soul. “See it’s not so hard, all you had to do was ask nicely.”

Toji picks you up before you have a chance to respond. His strong arms carry you up from the floor and you squeak when he places you on the edge of the sink. The hard porcelain digs into your thighs, but the discomfort is drowned out by the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins. Your back is pressed against the mirror and Toji’s right in front of you, hair mused because of you. His fingers find their way to your pussy again and his smirk widens when he feels just how wet you are.

“Look how wet she’s gotten.” He coos, flicking your clit a little. “Did you get turned on from sucking me off doll?” His voice drops deeper and you whimper as he plunged two fingers inside, stretching you open. You gasp when he curls his digits, hitting that familiar spot again. “Did you imagine my cock pounding this pretty little pussy until it’s broken?” You can’t seem to say anything, mind blank from the pleasure you’re receiving. Toji’s fingers still and you watch as his expression darkens. “Answer me brat.” 

Your lips tremble as you feel your body squirm. Everything feels too good and all your senses feel overstimulated. Your mouth opens yet nothing comes out. Toji refuses to move but your pussy still clenches around him pathetically. 

“I-I did…” You breathe out, chest heaving up and down as you try to hold in your noises.

“There it is.” He starts to move again, slowly but surely. “You gotta make sure you answer my questions doll, I hate it when people ignore me.”

You nod your head helplessly, whimpering as you do so. His fingers curl inside you and you squeal at the movement, collapsing onto his chest as you feel your lower half tense up. You’re so close and Toji knows what he’s doing when he teases you like that. It’s so fucking annoying but god does it feel so good. You whine his name over and over again begging for more like a desperate bitch in heat. All dignity has left your body as you become putty in his hands.

“Toji Toji Tojiiii! P-Please I need m-more, please just need to - nghhh - feels good…” You moan out as your hands find their place on hsi broad shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you feel your hips raise higher. Toji hisses at the pain before leaning in to kiss you. It’s hot and searing as both your lips move against each other. He’s not gentle at all and it only makes you clench around him tighter. “Gonna cum gonna cum gonna cummm-”

Toji pulls away from you, moving his fingers faster as his other hand goes to rub your sensitive clit. “C’mon doll, cum all over my fingers, show me how dirty you are, let me see you make a mess of yourself like a good girl.” He purrs and it’s all you need before you’re spasming around his digits. You feel a gush of liquid spray from your pussy and you gasp when you realise you squirted all over the man you were supposed to kill. You feel your body ache as you orgasm, each bone in your body rattles with pleasure as you moan continuously. 

Toji smirks at the mess you’ve made, sliding his fingers out and gathering all your liquid before pushing it back into you. “Such a pretty pussy, listen to how she speaks doll.” His fingers push into you and you simper when you hear the lewd squelching of your spent pussy. He purposefully moves slowly, letting your mouth hang open as you savour every inch he pushes inside of you. Your chest heaves up and down, your lungs burn from the breath you’ve lost. Toji looks up at you, his eyes no longer transfixed on your pussy. “Oh you didn’t think we were finished did you?”

Your eyes widen when you feel his cock prod your entrance. Your eyes lock with his and Toji has a cocky glint in his eye and that’s all you see before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you feel him bottom out. His cock stretches you out and he’s just so thick. His cock practically forces you open, prying your insides apart as he bullies his way into you. Tears gather at your eyes once more and they become misty as they fall freely down your face. You feel as though your own sanity has left you as all you can think about is his cock. 

“S-So big- oh! T-Toji feels too-”

“Fuck- y’sure you’re not a virgin? Why the fuck is she so tight then? Have you been neglecting this pretty thing?” He grunts as his hands grip your hips. You can only reply in broken whines and it’s no use because none of it makes sense. “Tch, from now on this pussy belongs to me and it’s gonna remember the shape of my cock because I’m gonna fuck you stupid daily, got that?”

His words barely register in your mind but the idea is pleasing enough for you to nod your head frantically. You don’t care anymore what your supervisor would think, what anyone would think? You didn’t care. You’re too cockdrunk to even fathom the punishment you might face once you return to headquarters but all you need right now is Toji to fuck you like the slut you are. 

“I said got that?” His hips snap to yours hardly, eliciting a low moan.

“Y-Yes!”

Your head flings back as his cock fucks into you. Each thrust is merciless and he’s unrelenting with his fucking. Toji’s only thought is your sweet hot pussy and how pretty it looks sucking in his thick cock. He wants the sight ingrained in his memory, to constantly stare at the way it looks so mesmerising. He’s pounding into you roughly, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and he reaches his hand up to push his locks out of his eyes. 

Your eyes flit to his fingers, the fingers that look so hot and Toji notices. He smirks as he pops them into his mouth, sucking them in front of you, eyes looking directly at yours. You feel your pussy squeeze his cock and he moans and you catch a glimpse at his saliva-coated digits. Your mouth falls open once more and he seizes the opportunity to shove the same fingers into your mouth and you moan too.

You feel the rough fingertips press down on your tongue and you suck. It feels so good. You feel your thighs tremble as his cock pushes in and out of your gummy walls. They have him in a tight hold, one unwilling to let go and all you can do is gasp and whine. Toji adjusts the way you sit and at once you feel his cock hit at a different angle causing you to tumblr forward with a squeal. He grins and buries his head into your shoulder, fucking you even harder than before.

“C’mon doll, you gotta sit up nice and straight f’me, spread those legs and let me fuckin’ ruin you.” His words are enough to have you wanting to cum right there and then but you know it won’t end well. He tugs you to meet his hips and your hands fly to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath your hands. “Such a slutty pussy…f-fuckk, you’re gonna be my personal cum dump aren’t you? Gonna let me fuck this pussy whenever I want, my hole to use?”

“Mhmm- y-yes yes yes! Yours T-Toji, I’m y-yours-” 

It’s so fucking filthy the way your lips are wrapped around his fingers, drool dripping down your chin. Your moans only get louder and louder as Toji buries himself balls deep into your cute little cunt. His cock stuffs you so full and his hand reaches down to press against your stomach to make sure you know exactly how deep he is. You gasp when you feel the faint outline of just what’s splitting you open so deliciously. You shiver from his touch as you feel your desire shoot through your body. Your knuckles turn white at how hard you’re clenching your fists as you sob out moans and cries. Toji groans at your pretty noises, fucking you deeper as he desperately tries to make you moan louder for him.

“Make a mess doll, know y’wanna cum so badly.” His breath is hot on your ear and you feel yourself melt as your pussy finally gives in. You’re gushing all over him, body throttling as you feel strangled sobs leave your throat. Toji keeps pounding into you, cock brushing against your velvety walls as he chases his own orgasm. “Such a good fuckin’ girl- fuck! Keep squeezing me like that doll.”

You feel his cock twitch inside of you and suddenly you feel heat seep into your cunt. You grip onto him tighter, pulling him impossibly closer as your hips raise to capture more of his cum. He floods your walls, painting them a delicious shade of white. It’s a sticky gooey mess between your thighs but Toji keeps his cock plugged inside of you to make sure nothing leaks out. Your body’s exhausted and you’re still breathing heavily and Toji’s still tucked into the crook of your neck.

“That…that felt amazing.” You mumble under your breath.

Toji lifts his head and there’s already his signature cocky grin on his face. He presses his forehead to yours. “I meant what I said, you’re now mine and I don’t care who I’ve pissed off but tonight you’re leaving with me and I’m gonna fuck you until the sun rises.” Your pussy clenches around his cock unintentionally from his words and Toji groans. “You gonna let me do that doll?”

You glance up at him and though you’re already so fucked-out you still want more and you couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought. “Yes please.”

Toji smirks before he slowly pulls out, cock dripping from the nasty mess the both of you have made. It drips on the floor but neither of you care too much. You reach for your clothes, hastily putting them back on. He grabs your hand and the both of you stumble towards the door, pushing it open and the loud bass enters your ears once more. You see him whisper to a man by the wall and then he’s pulling you out of the club. Your heart pounds as you watch the muscled man drag you along and you feel your pussy grow wet at the thought of what the both of you were gonna do tonight.

You know you’ll have to face the consequences sooner or later but you much prefer the latter option.

[kateschi]

ᯓ★୭˚. RIVALS OR MORE?

જ⁀➴ “what are we?” event masterlist

synopsis: a question lingers between you and bakugou, sharp and biting, much like the competition that keeps pulling you back into each other's orbits.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the rivalry between you and bakugou katsuki was the kind of tale that pro-hero rookies whispered about, an unrelenting contest that started years ago at u.a. high.

from the moment the two of you stepped onto campus, it was as though the universe had aligned you as polar opposites.

bakugou’s explosive temper and fiery quirk were impossible to ignore, while your sharp tongue and precise control made it clear you wouldn’t be overshadowed by anyone—especially not him.

it began in your first year, during basic hero training, when aizawa-sensei had paired the two of you for a sparring match.

bakugou’s smug grin was infuriating as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

“don’t cry when i wipe the floor with you,” he sneered, crimson eyes blazing with confidence.

“save the big talk for someone you can actually beat,” you shot back, stepping onto the mat with your head held high.

the match was chaotic. bakugou’s explosions came fast and furious, his relentless offense forcing you to dodge and counter at a breakneck pace.

but you refused to give ground. the air smelled of smoke and scorched fabric by the time aizawa called it a draw, both of you battered and breathless.

bakugou wiped a streak of soot from his face, glaring at you. “next time, I’ll crush you.”

“not if I crush you first,” you retorted, wincing as recovery girl dabbed ointment on a nasty burn.

from that day on, the rivalry became a constant. every training session was a chance to prove who was better.

even the smallest victories turned into battlegrounds.

group projects were a nightmare for anyone unfortunate enough to share the assignment with the two of you; more than one teammate had begged for reassignment just to escape the tension.

things reached a boiling point during the training camp in your second year. paired together for a survival exercise, the friction was immediate.

bakugou stomped through the forest with his usual impatience, barking orders as if he expected you to follow blindly.

“stop lagging behind!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder to where you were scanning the dense undergrowth.

“I’m not lagging,” you replied coolly, stepping over a fallen log with deliberate ease. “I’m thinking. you should try it sometime.”

“don’t start with me,” he growled.

despite the bickering, the two of you worked with a kind of unspoken rhythm, covering each other’s blind spots without even needing to communicate.

you hated to admit it, but bakugou’s sheer power was impressive, and his instincts in a fight were razor-sharp.

it was during that exercise that the dynamic shifted, if only slightly.

when you stumbled into a hidden trap, a quick snare wrapping around your ankle, bakugou had reacted instantly. his explosions shredded the ropes in a matter of seconds, his glare more intense than usual.

“can’t believe you let yourself get caught like that,” he muttered.

you rolled your eyes, brushing off dirt as you got back to your feet. “thanks for the save.”

“whatever,” he huffed, looking away, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smirk.

those moments were rare, fleeting, but they stuck with you. even as adults, long after u.a. had become a memory, the rivalry burned just as brightly.

every headline that mentioned bakugou’s latest exploits made your blood boil. every time your name appeared in the rankings above his, you could practically hear him grinding his teeth.

it was a constant, infuriating reminder that he was always just there, always pushing you to be better—even when you hated him for it.

for years, you’d managed to keep your distance, tackling different missions. it was better that way. no distractions, no arguments.

but the pro-hero commission had other plans.

their reasoning was infuriatingly logical: two top-ranking heroes with a proven track record of results, a shared history of success despite—or perhaps because of—your rivalry.

and so, without consultation or warning, your paths were forcibly crossed again.

the moment you’d seen bakugou striding into the meeting room, your stomach had twisted in a knot of irritation and reluctant anticipation.

the years apart had done little to dull the intensity of his presence, nor had they cooled the fire of your rivalry.

bakugou walks to the far end of the table and plops down, his arms crossed over his chest, his usual scowl firmly in place.

his crimson eyes flicker with barely restrained irritation, and the rhythmic tap of his boot against the floor echoes in the silence, each strike a silent drumbeat to his rising impatience.

you sit at the opposite end, your posture mirroring his, arms folded tightly across your chest. your jaw locks, muscles taut as you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the umpteenth time.

“why the hell do I have to work with you?” his voice cuts through the silence, sharp and jagged, carrying with it a heat that isn’t entirely metaphorical.

his glare burns into you, daring you to fight back. so you lean forward, meeting his fire with your own.

“you think I’m thrilled about this, bakugou?” you snap. “this mission is too important to let your ego screw it up.”

his foot stills mid-tap, and for a moment, the room feels unnervingly quiet. then, he scoffs, his lips curling into a sneer as he leans forward, his tone dropping to a dangerous growl.

“my ego?” he bites out, the heat in his voice rising. “you’re the one who’s always trying to prove you’re better than me!”

you can’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. there’s a certain satisfaction in lighting his fuse.

“that’s because I am better than you,” you shoot back, your tone teetering on smugness.

his jaw clenches, veins visibly straining against his neck as his temper flares. his hands twitch as though he’s moments away from letting loose a barrage of explosions just to make his point.

before he can retort, a sharp clearing of a throat slices through the air like a knife.

the tension snaps, both of you glancing toward the commission’s representative.

“enough,” she says, her voice steely and cutting. her gray eyes are cold as they flicker between you and bakugou, clearly unimpressed by your outbursts.

“you two are professionals. act like it. this mission requires complete cooperation, and I don’t care how much you dislike each other.”

the word cooperation feels like a slap in the face. you straighten in your chair, jaw tightening as you cast a sidelong glance at bakugou.

he glares at the holographic display now—typical.

the display flickers to life, illuminating the room with a sharp blue glow as the mission briefing begins. details of a criminal syndicate tied to a dangerous quirk-enhancing drug fill the room.

you nod along, taking in the information, though you’re acutely aware of bakugou’s every shift, every exhaled breath.

as the meeting draws to a close, the representative’s tone grows pointed.

“this mission is high-stakes. your ability to work together effectively will determine its success—or failure.”

bakugou stands abruptly, the screech of his chair against the polished floor startlingly loud. “fine,” he mutters, his voice low and clipped as he stalks toward the door.

you sigh, rising to follow. “try not to blow everything up before we get the intel, okay?”

he shoots a glare over his shoulder, but there’s something almost amused in the way his lips twitch, like he wants to snap back but can’t quite muster the effort. “just stay out of my way, h/n.”

the door shuts behind him with a heavy click, and you let out a long breath.

the mission hasn’t even started yet, and already you feel the weight of it—not just the stakes but the inevitability of clashing with bakugou.

the city below buzzes with its usual hum of activity: flashing neon signs, the occasional honk of a car, and distant murmurs of a world that never quite sleeps.

the syndicate’s hideout looms in the distance, nestled within a secluded section of the city that seems to thrive on the shadows.

the building is plain, but you know better than to judge based on appearances.

you glance at bakugou, who is already adjusting his gauntlets. the metallic clicking of his gear fills the silence between you, his movements sharp and methodical.

“I’ll take the front. you sneak in through the back,” bakugou says, his voice laced with the kind of confidence only someone like him possesses.

he looks at you, his crimson eyes sharp and unyielding. “stay out of my way.”

you raise an eyebrow at his commanding tone.

there’s something about it—something that always gets under your skin. but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of showing it.

“typical bakugou,” you say with a smirk, shaking your head in exaggerated disbelief. “always going for the flashy entrance. no wonder they call you ‘dynamight.’”

bakugou’s lips twitch into a smirk of his own.

“yeah? and what do they call you? ‘miss perfect’?” his voice drips with the challenge, and you feel the simmering heat of competition between you two.

you raise your chin, your confidence just as unwavering as his.

“‘h/n,’ actually,” you correct, your voice dripping with mock sweetness that masks the genuine pride you feel for the name.

“because I get the job done without leaving a mess behind.”

his lip curls into a scowl, and he mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re pretty sure it’s some variation of “show-off.”

you chuckle as you move into position. his temper is always so easy to provoke, yet it never fails to amuse you.

crouching low, you disappear into the shadows, the familiar rhythm of working alongside bakugou settling in like a second skin.

despite your constant bickering, you have to admit there’s a certain harmony in how you two work together.

as you make your way to the back entrance of the hideout, you hear the distant thrum of bakugou’s footsteps as he moves toward the front.

you know he'll create a commotion, likely to draw attention and give you the perfect opportunity to slip in unnoticed. it’s his style—loud, chaotic, and effective.

you pause for a moment, assessing the situation. the back door is guarded, as you expect, but not too heavily. you’ll have to move quickly, but this is your element.

the guards are predictable, and you can use that to your advantage. with a quiet breath, you step forward, easily dispatching the first guard with a well-placed kick that sends him tumbling silently into a dark corner.

everything is going according to plan, and for a moment, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline that comes with the territory. you aren’t just good at this—you’re damn good at it.

but as you near the main floor, the sound of shouting catches your attention, followed by the unmistakable crackle of bakugou’s explosions.

your heart skips a beat. it’s too early for things to go sideways—he isn’t supposed to be discovered yet. but, knowing bakugou, you don’t doubt he’s already drawn half of the syndicate’s attention.

the man never does know how to be discreet.

you curse under your breath but push forward, pressing yourself against the cold concrete wall as you move deeper into the compound.

every instinct you have screams at you to hurry, but you can’t afford to be sloppy—not now.

as you round a corner, a sharp crack of sound pierces the air—one you immediately recognize as a gunshot.

before you can react, something slams into your side, sending you sprawling across the floor. pain shoots through your ribs, and the world spins in a blur as you fight to stay conscious.

you stagger to your feet, heart racing.

your vision is blurry from the shock of the blow, but you manage to focus. the guards have noticed you—no surprise there—but now you’re outnumbered.

as you prepare to defend yourself, the familiar sound of bakugou’s explosions rings out, closer than before. your mind screams at you to hold on, but the pain is beginning to cloud your thoughts.

the world seems to slow as you brace yourself against the oncoming guards.

blood pounds in your ears, your vision narrows, and every muscle in your body screams for you to move—but you’re frozen.

you can feel the gunshot wound throbbing, hot and raw, in your side. your breaths come in sharp, jagged gasps as you prepare for the worst.

and then, everything explodes.

it’s as if the entire world has been set on fire.

a massive blast of force erupts from the far side of the room, so powerful it shakes the walls and sends debris scattering.

you instinctively throw yourself to the ground to shield yourself from the shockwave, your hands scraping against the cold floor.

when the smoke and dust begin to settle, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.

“hey! move, dammit!”

bakugou appears in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the fiery remnants of his explosion. his eyes lock onto you with a terrifying intensity.

you barely have time to process the sight of him before he charges toward you, his powerful form cutting through the remaining guards with ease.

with one swift motion, he sends a group of them flying, his explosions igniting the air with a deafening roar.

the remaining guards scatter, too intimidated by bakugou’s wrath to continue their assault.

“y/n, get up!” he barks, his voice sharp as a whip.

his eyes are on you now, and the anger in them isn’t the same as usual—it’s raw, a mix of frustration, fear, and something else you can’t quite place.

you push yourself to your feet, stumbling slightly, the pain in your side making every movement feel like you’re dragging a weight behind you.

“don’t you ever do something so goddamn stupid again!” bakugou growls, his voice low and thick with rage.

he isn’t even looking at the enemies anymore, but at you—his gaze pinning you in place.

you straighten, ignoring the blood staining your shirt, and shoot him a glare.

“what were you thinking, bakugou?” you snap, your voice rough but defiant. “you think charging in here like that’s any better?”

bakugou’s jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow. the tension between you is palpable. but then, with a sound that almost resembles a growl, bakugou snaps.

“don’t try to turn this on me!” he barks. “you could’ve been killed! you think I’m gonna just let you die in some goddamn back alley like this?”

his voice breaks, cracking just slightly as he glares down at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “what were you thinking?! do you want to die or something?!”

for a moment, you’re struck silent. the anger in his voice is so raw, so unfiltered, that it takes the wind out of you.

but the hurt behind it makes your chest tighten. you have never heard bakugou sound like that before. never seen him this...desperate.

“why do you even care, bakugou?” you ask, your voice softer than intended. you hadn’t meant for it to sound that way, but it’s too late to take it back.

bakugou freezes, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he scowls, looking away as if he hasn’t just heard you.

the silence that stretches between you is suffocating, and you can’t help but feel exposed.

you aren’t sure what possessed you to ask such a question, but the way bakugou is standing there, his posture tight and his fists still trembling, makes you feel the need to.

“I just—do, okay?” bakugou finally mutters, his voice gruff and not nearly as confident as he usually sounds. “now quit acting like you don’t need help for once, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

you stare at him, disbelief gnawing at you. he’s...worried. maybe even scared.

for a moment, the world outside of you falls away, leaving just you and bakugou standing there in the wreckage.

but you don’t want to let him see how much his words affect you.

not now, not while you’re still trying to make sense of everything.

“don’t get all sentimental on me now, bakugou,” you mutter, a weak smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you try to brush off the intensity of the moment. “I’m fine. just need a second.”

but bakugou doesn’t seem convinced. he steps forward, his hand—hesitant but undeniably gentle—hovering near your side as though waiting for your permission to help.

you catch his eyes for a moment, and for the first time in a long while, you see something other than his usual cocky arrogance. something softer.

“don’t push yourself, alright?” he mutters, his voice quieter now, almost awkward. “I don’t want to drag your ass out of here next time.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and nod, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in your chest at his words.

for a few moments, everything seems suspended in time.

the world outside is still, the only sound the occasional rush of wind.

you can feel the intensity of his gaze lingering on you, his presence more solid than ever before.

it’s a strange feeling—this unspoken connection, the weight of his concern settling between you like an unvoiced understanding.

despite his usual tough exterior, there’s no mistaking the softness in his actions, the care that has been there all along, hidden beneath layers of pride and deflection.

and for the first time, you can’t ignore it.

the moment passes, though, and as quickly as it comes, you both fall into your familiar roles, quickly finishing up the mission.

the two of you barely speak on the way back, the silence stretching between you as you navigate the now-empty streets.

every once in a while, bakugou glances your way, but he never says anything.

as you both enter the safehouse, the cold interior air does little to ease the pounding headache building in your skull.

bakugou drops his gear by the door, his shoulders stiff with tension. he moves like he’s still on edge, as if the mission hasn’t quite ended for him.

you take a seat on the couch, trying to ignore the throb in your side as you start to peel off your tactical vest.

“you should get that looked at,” bakugou says, his voice still rough with exhaustion. “you’re lucky I didn’t leave your ass behind.”

you shoot him a pointed glare but don’t respond.

instead, you take a breath, looking down at the hand gripping the fabric of your vest before finally speaking, your voice quieter than usual.

“bakugou,” you start, the question from earlier swirling back in your mind. “why do you care so much?”

his back stiffens, and you can feel the tension in the room crackle like static. he turns to look at you, his expression unreadable for a moment.

then, his eyes soften—just barely—but enough to make your heart race in your chest.

“you think i’m gonna let some idiot hero get themselves killed?” his voice is harsher than it needs to be. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

but the words feel like a cover-up.

you see it in the way his hands ball into fists, the slight tremor in his jaw, like he’s trying to push something down.

you tilt your head, an eyebrow raising. “no, seriously. you’ve been acting like a goddamn wrecking ball this whole time, but that’s not really your style, is it?”

bakugou glares at you. “shut up, will you? I did what needed to be done. not everything’s about you.”

but you’re not ready to drop it. there’s a knot in your chest that won’t loosen, and you can feel the words slipping out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“don’t lie, bakugou. you’re acting weird. you’ve never cared this much before. what’s going on?”

there’s a long silence. you watch as bakugou’s eyes flick to the side, his lips pressed. finally, he lets out a breath, long and slow, and walks over to the window.

“I don’t have time for this, alright?” his voice is low. “I just—”

he pauses, like the words are stuck in his throat.

the long, drawn-out silence stretches between you like an unspoken confession. it’s raw, and despite every instinct telling you to back off, you don’t move.

“I just... I just don’t want to lose you, alright?” his voice cracks just slightly as he finally turns to face you, eyes burning with a mix of anger and hesitance.

“you make me—damn it, you make me lose my focus. every damn time, you just keep going and doing stupid shit, and it pisses me off. but I can’t—”

he shakes his head, his fists clenching again as his cheeks flush.

you blink, your heart skipping a beat at the words, unsure if you’ve heard him right. “what are you talking about?”

bakugou’s frustration is palpable, but it’s different now, tangled with something softer. he exhales sharply, as if the very act of saying it is painful.

“I don’t want you to die,” he says, eyes still locked on yours. “I don’t want to keep pulling your ass out of dangerous situations,

but every time, it just...it matters more than it should. and I don’t know why. I just—” and his voice drops into a groan.

your mind races, but all you can do is stare at him, trying to process everything he’s just said. is he...admitting something?

is he actually confessing to you?

you try to respond, your voice shaky but determined. “bakugou, I—”

before you can finish, he huffs, stepping back slightly.

“forget it. this isn’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mutters, visibly trying to shake off the moment. “I didn’t mean to...whatever. you should get some rest.”

“no,” you snap, your heart pounding as you take a step forward.

you’re not about to let him hide from this, not this time. “no, you’re not just going to walk away from this. not like this.”

his scowl deepens, but there’s something in his eyes he can’t quite mask. he crosses his arms, clearly uncomfortable, but his voice is still tight with frustration.

“what the hell do you want me to say, huh? it’s not like I can just...do this shit the ‘right’ way.”

you move even closer, your gaze unwavering, and something inside you surges, something you can’t hold back anymore.

“I don’t need you to do it the ‘right’ way, bakugou,” you say, your voice steady but intense. “I just need you to stop pretending this doesn’t matter.”

his lips part, like he’s about to snap back at you, but he falters, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

“I don’t know how to...how to deal with this, alright? I don’t—” he clenches his fists at his sides, frustration evident on his face.

“you’re not the only one who feels this way, you know,” you cut in, your words sharper now, tinged with your own frustration and longing.

“you’re not the only one who’s...frustrated.” you swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“I care about you, too, bakugou. and I’m not going to sit here pretending like what happened didn’t matter.”

he freezes.

his eyes widen, and you see something—his lighting up just a bit.

“you—” he stops himself, jaw tightening. but his voice is unsteady when he speaks again. “you care? what—”

you nod, your heart in your throat, but now you’re certain. “yeah. I do. a hell of a lot more than I want to admit.”

he shifts on his feet, confusion warring with reluctant relief. “so what the hell do you want from me, huh?” he grumbles, his frustration still biting, but it’s calmer.

you take another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I want you to stop running away from this, bakugou. stop pretending it’s something you can ignore.”

his lips press together in a hard line, but for a brief moment, you think he might dismiss it again.

but then, after a long, measured breath, he looks up at you, and this time, there’s a small smile on his face.

“fine,” he mutters, gaze dropping to the floor, chuckling as he runs a hand through his hair. “I guess...I want to be with you too, alright?”

your heart skips a beat at the bluntness of it.

it catches you off guard, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “so, what, you’re saying you’re into me now, huh?”

bakugou flushes, the scowl returning to his face quickly and the blood rushing to his face as he quickly turns away, clearly embarrassed.

“shut up! don’t make me say it again.”

you laugh softly. “guess I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

bakugou sighs heavily, but then his eyes flick to you for a second. you stare back at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest. your eyes widen as you collide against him, and you snap your head up, ready to yell at him.

but you halt as he cocks his head to the side and replies with a smirk, “damn right.”

— you've got a new message!

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[misswynters]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝 Part One

pairing. ambessa x reader x sevika

warnings. kissing, sparring and kissing, touching, neck kisses, pet names (darling)

wc. i have no idea (i went overboard)

synopsis. You were sent on a mission to train sevika for an underground tournament, by non other than the tyrant herself, Ambessa Merdarda.

a/n. there needs to be more of these because i am in need. i keep making part twos because im indecisive also let me know if there’s any misspelling

note. it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

Sweat clung to your brow as you stepped into the training room, its atmosphere oppressive and bathed in a dim crimson glow. The walls, which were made of steel, echoed with every movement. Scuffed mats covered sections of the concrete floor, marked by years of punishment from brutal sparring matches. Ambient heat radiated from flickering red lights overhead, casting jagged shadows that seemed to ripple with every movement. It wasn’t an ideal space for training, but Zaun didn’t do luxury, and neither did Ambessa.

Ambessa’s voice rang out from the elevated platform at the far end of the room, her piercing gaze fixed on the two of you. “Again,” she ordered, her tone sharp enough to cut through the humid air. “Don’t hold back this time. You’re wasting my time if you’re not going to make her bleed.”

Resentment prickled under your skin, but you bit your tongue. Ambessa’s presence had been the only thing keeping you in this hell of an assignment. Training Sevika for an underground tournament had sounded ridiculous when the offer first came to you. Why would a battle maiden brute like her need anyone’s help. But Ambessa had insisted, claiming your expertise was “essential” to Zaun’s victory. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Sevika stood in front of you, her large frame coiled with tension. Her metal arm glinted under the lights as her breathing stayed steady. Her gaze looked betrayed with annoyance. She wasn’t thrilled about being told what to do, let alone by you. The feeling was mutual. “You ready for another bruising, princess?” Sevika taunted, cracking her knuckles.

Rolling your eyes, you dropped into a fighting stance. “Keep talking, and I’ll make sure your metal arm isn’t the only thing out of commission.”

Her grin was predatory. “Such big words for someone so small.”

The session resumed with a flurry of blows. Sevika lunged first, her movements quick despite her size. You ducked under her swing, your fist connecting with her side. The impact barely fazed her, but it was enough to get her attention. She retaliated with a sweeping kick, forcing you to leap back to avoid losing your footing. The clash of flesh and metal echoed in the room as the two of you exchanged blows, your mutual irritation fueling every strike.

Sevika was too strong to take head-on. So you relied on precision and agility, darting around her strikes and aiming for weak spots. But Sevika wasn’t stupid. She adapted quickly, her strikes coming faster and more calculated. Her metal fist grazed your ribs at one point, and the shock of it made you stumble.

“Getting tired already, sweetheart?” she sneered, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm.

“Hardly,” you shot back, charging at her with renewed energy.

Your next strike caught her off guard. A perfectly timed uppercut sent her stumbling backward. You didn’t stop, delivering a swift kick to her midsection that knocked her off balance. She hit the ground hard, her body slamming against the concrete with a grunt. For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Stay down,” you said, wiping your hands on your pants.

But Sevika didn’t stay down. With a growl, she lunged at you like a wild animal. Her strength caught you off guard, and before you could react, she had you pinned to the cold floor. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and you gasped as her full weight pressed against you.

Sevika’s metal hand gripped both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. Her other hand rested on your shoulder, keeping you firmly in place. You struggled, but her strength was overwhelming.

“Not so cocky now, are ya?” she panted, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction. Sweat dripped from her forehead onto your cheek, and the heat of her body seeped into yours.

“Let me up,” you growled, glaring at her.

Her lips curled into a smirk as she leaned closer, her face mere inches from yours. “Now why would i do that? You look good down there.”

Your pulse quickened, though you told yourself it was from exertion. “You’re enjoying this wayyyy too much.”

“Maybe,” Sevika admitted, her voice a husky whisper. “But I think you are too.” Her chest heaved with every breath, the fabric of her tank top clinging to her damp skin. The scent of sweat and iron filled the air, mingling with something deeper, something unspoken. Her gray eyes bore into yours, challenging you, daring you to say something, to do something. But neither of you moved. The world outside the training room seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in this heat of a moment.

“You’re stronger than I expected,” Sevika muttered, her voice softer now. “Almost makes me want to keep you around.”

“Almost?” you shot back, your voice tight. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Her smirk widened. “You can try, but you wouldn’t succeed.”

Ambessa’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. “Enough!” she barked, her tone sharp and commanding. “If you two are done flirting, we have a tournament to prepare for.”

Ambessa’s voice thundered through the training room before either of you had the chance to speak. “What in the hell is going on here?” Her presence filled the room instantly, her commanding tone freezing both you and Sevika in place.

Her boots clanged against the concrete as she strode forward, her towering frame illuminated by the dim red glow. Dressed in training gear, Ambessa looked more like a war goddess than a general with her broad shoulders and powerful arms on full display. A simple black sports bra wrapped tightly around her chest as her glistened abs catch the faint light.

“Off,” she barked, her sharp gaze locking on Sevika.

Sevika, who rarely flinched at anything, hesitated for a split second before pulling back. Her expression was tight with frustration, but she obeyed, releasing your wrists and standing. The loss of her warmth was immediate as the cold floor pressed against your back.

Ambessa stepped in without missing a beat, gripping Sevika’s arm and pulling her upright effortlessly. “Do you think this is some kind of game?” Her voice was low, dangerous, as she squared off with Sevika.

Sevika yanked her arm back, her jaw tightening. “She hit me. I hit her back.”

“You pinned her like a street brawler,” Ambessa snapped, her voice cutting through the charged air. “This isn’t some tavern scuffle. You’re supposed to be training, not rolling around like a fool.”

“She’s the one who pushed me,” Sevika shot back, her chest heaving as she stepped closer. The heat in her gaze didn’t waver, and the muscles in her arms flexed with tension.

Still lying on the ground, you watched the two women square off, rooted in place by the sheer energy between them. Ambessa’s imposing frame radiated authority, her dark eyes blazing, while Sevika bristled like a cornered beast, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Pushed you?” Ambessa’s voice dropped to a near growl. She took another step forward, her tone mocking. “What are you, a child? You’re supposed to be stronger than this.”

“Maybe if you didn’t bark orders from a balcony, you’d see how this fight actually went,” Sevika bit back, her voice dripping with venom. Her muscles tensed beneath the fabric of her tank top, the strain of holding back her frustration evident in every line of her body.

Ambessa’s laugh was sharp and humorless, cutting through the suffocating air. “Careful, Sevika. You’re one poorly thrown punch away from losing that metal arm.”

Sevika’s lips twisted into a snarl, her voice rising as she stepped into Ambessa’s space. “And you’re one more order away from learning I don’t take kindly to being treated like a damn pawn.”

Every word exchanged felt like a spark, each one igniting the fire between them further. You remained where you were, watching from the ground as the red lights painted their figures like some living, breathing battle scene.

Ambessa tilted her head slightly, her piercing gaze narrowing. “You think this is about you?” she asked, her voice quiet but filled with dangerous intent. She took a step closer, the heat from her body palpable even from where you lay. “You’re nothing without me. You wouldn’t have that arm, that strength, or this opportunity. So don’t test me, Sevika.”

For a moment, Sevika didn’t respond, her jaw tight as her gaze flickered to the floor before locking onto Ambessa again. Then, like a wave breaking, the anger in her expression shifted into something more intimate replacing it.

“Nothing without you?” Sevika’s voice dropped, her tone low and measured, sending a shiver down your spine. “You think you own me because you gave me this?” She raised her metal arm, flexing it deliberately. “Don’t fool yourself. I’ve earned every inch of what I am.”

Ambessa didn’t back down, stepping even closer until their chests were nearly brushing. “Then prove it. Because right now, all I see is someone too stubborn to recognize when they’re being tested.”

The air between them shifted. Their breathing was heavy, their bodies so close you swore you could see the tension vibrating between them. Ambessa’s hand raised slightly, and for a second, you thought she might push Sevika, or worse, strike her. But her fingers caught the strap of Sevika’s tank top instead, her grip firm.

“You talk about earning it,” Ambessa said, her voice softer now, her words dripping with sharpness. “But have you earned this?”

Sevika didn’t flinch, though her chest rose and fell faster, her gray eyes locked onto Ambessa’s dark ones. “I’ve earned more than you think,” she said, her voice just as quiet, though there was a slight tremor. The aggression in Sevika’s stance softened, though her muscles remained taut, her body coiled and ready. Ambessa’s imposing presence didn’t falter, but the edge in her gaze dulled ever so slightly.

“You’re reckless,” Ambessa murmured, her fingers still resting against Sevika’s shirt.

“Tyrant bitch,” Sevika shot back, though there was no bite to her words.

They were so close now, their tension-filled standoff transforming into something you couldn’t quite name. You should’ve looked away, should’ve gotten up and interrupted, but you couldn’t. The sight of them, Ambessa’s glistening abs under the red lights and Sevika’s tank top clinging to her damp skin. It was mesmerizing.

The sparring session between Ambessa and Sevika had turned into a spectacle of raw power and dominance. The two women circled each other, muscles taut and glistening under the red light as they calculated their next moves. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, the charged atmosphere making it impossible to look away.

Sevika lunged first, her movements swift. Ambessa parried with ease, her stature and experience giving her the upper hand. The clash of their bodies reverberated through the room, their strength evenly matched, though Ambessa carried herself with an effortless grace that only came from years of battle.

Whereas, you sat on the couch in the corner with your legs crossed and your hands gripping the cushion tightly as you watched. The intensity between them was magnetic, and you felt heat creeping up your neck as you took it all in. The way Ambessa’s muscles shifted with every movement, the sheer power in her strikes. It was impossible not to admire her.

Sevika grunted as Ambessa caught her wrist mid-strike, twisting her arm behind her back in one fluid motion. “You’re too easy to predict,” Ambessa said, her voice low and laced with authority.

Sevika growled, twisting to free herself, but Ambessa didn’t let go. Instead, she pinned Sevika’s arms together, holding them in place with one hand. The strength in that single motion was enough to make your jaw drop. You could see the flex of her biceps, the veins on her forearm standing out as she kept Sevika completely immobilized.

You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks flush. It wasn’t just the display of power that made your stomach flip, it was the way Ambessa looked doing it. She was in complete control, her eyes burning with determination.

Ambessa leaned in close, her lips brushing against Sevika’s ear. Whatever she whispered was too quiet for you to hear, but the way Sevika’s ears turned pink told you enough. Sevika was blushing. Their breathing was labored, their chests pressed against each other in a way that blurred the lines between aggression and intimacy. They were similar in height and strength that it was hard to tell who had the upper hand, though Ambessa’s control of the situation made it clear she was the dominant one.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to the scene in front of you. The way they moved, the tension between them. it was impossible not to feel flustered. Your eyes flicked to Ambessa’s back, the muscles there flexing as she held Sevika in place, and then to Sevika’s jaw, clenched tightly in frustration.

And then, with a sharp motion, Ambessa threw Sevika to the ground. The impact echoed through the room, but before Sevika could recover, Ambessa straddled her waist, pinning her completely. Her hands pressed into the concrete on either side of Sevika’s head, caging her in.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Ambessa’s gaze was piercing, and Sevika’s was equally defiant, though there was a flicker of something soft beneath her frustration. The proximity between them was almost suffocating, their breaths mingling as they stared each other down.

From your spot on the couch, you felt a pang of jealousy twist in your chest. You hated to admit it, but the sight of them like this: with Ambessa in complete control and Sevika pinned beneath her. You couldn’t deny what it made you feel. You were indecisive, whether you wanted to be in Ambessa’s place or Sevika’s.

Ambessa finally broke the moment, her head turning slightly in your direction. “Darling,” she called, her voice smooth and inviting.

Your heart skipped a beat. She rarely used that tone with you, and when she did, it always made your pulse race. You stood hesitantly, your legs feeling weak as you approached them.

“C’mere,” Ambessa said again, her eyes darkening as she watched you. You obeyed without question, moving closer until you were kneeling beside the two women. Ambessa shifted her attention back to Sevika for a moment, her thumb brushing against Sevika’s jawline before she finally let go of her. Sevika sat up slightly, her breathing still heavy as she stared at Ambessa, her lips parted as though she wanted to a near whisper. "Do you want her?"

The question hit you like a shit ton of bricks. Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. "What? No, I-"

Ambessa tilted her head, a faint smirk playing at her lips. "Come on. there’s no need lie," she said, her voice soft but dangerous. "I've seen the way you look at her."

It’s true i-" you started, but your words caught in your throat as Ambessa leaned closer, her hand coming up to cup your chin.

"You can deny it all you want," she murmured, her thumb brushing against your lower lip. "But I already know the truth." Behind her, Sevika shifted, her eyes narrowing as she watched the interaction. Her gaze flicked between you and Ambessa, her jaw tightening as though she was trying to figure out what to make of the situation.

Ambessa's lips curved into a knowing smile as she let go of your chin, her hand moving to rest on your shoulder instead. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said, her tone almost teasing now. "Desire is a natural thing."

You felt your cheeks heat up, unsure of how to respond. Ambessa's gaze was unrelenting, and the weight of both her and Sevika's attention made your head spin.

"Still," Ambessa continued, her voice taking on a more serious edge, "you should know where your loyalties lie." Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded slowly. With the inability to tear your eyes away from her. The room was silent for a moment, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Sevika finally stood, brushing herself off and crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down at the two of you.

Ambessa smirked, leaning back slightly but still keeping her hand on your shoulder. "Oh, I'm counting on it," she said, her tone dripping with confidence.

As the two women exchanged another charged look, you couldn't help but feel caught in the middle of something bigger than yourself. And yet, you didn't want to be anywhere else.

Ambessa stood there, towering over both you and Sevika, her sharp gaze locked on Sevika's defiant stance. The tension between them was thick, electric, but then something shifted in Ambessa's expression. A sly smirk curved her lips, and before anyone could react, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Sevika's.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was intense, fiery, and utterly captivating. Sevika's eyes widened in surprise at first, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she matched Ambessa's energy, their mouths moving against each other with such a desire that made your heart pound. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight. The sound of their labored breaths and the faint growls of dominance filled the room. They kissed as if they were trying to conquer one another, neither willing to back down. Sevika's hand shot up, gripping the back of Ambessa's neck, her fingers curling into her short hair. While Ambessa's large hands found Sevika's waist, pulling her closer.

Your cheeks flushed as you watched, your mind racing. It was undeniably hot. You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your belly as you continued to observe the exchange.

Ambessa's teeth caught Sevika's lower lip, tugging it slightly before she pulled back just enough to smirk. "Is that all you've got?" she taunted, her voice husky and breathless.

"Not even close," Sevika growled, surging forward to capture her lips again, this time with even more hunger.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. The two women before you were locked in a battle of dominance, their bodies pressed so tightly together that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began. The red light from the room cast their silhouettes in an almost ethereal glow, accentuating the muscles in their arms and shoulders as they held each other.

You felt a pang of longing in your chest, wishing you could be part of that. Your eyes drifted to Sevika's lips. You imagined her pressing her lips against your neck. And then your gaze moved to Ambessa's hands, the thought of them holding you like that making your stomach flip.

You didn't realize you were pouting until Ambessa pulled back slightly from Sevika, her eyes flicking toward you. She chuckled lowly, her voice thick with amusement. "What's wrong, darling?" she teased, the pet name rolling off her tongue like silk.

You quickly looked away, embarrassed that she'd caught you. "Nothing," you muttered, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

"Nothing, hm?" Ambessa stepped closer, leaving Sevika standing there looking both frustrated and dazed. She reached out, her hand brushing lightly against your cheek before trailing down to rest against your back. "I don't think I believe you."

Sevika, still breathing heavily, smirked as she noticed your reaction. "Looks like someone wants in on the fun," she said, her tone teasing but her eyes were dark. Your heart skipped a beat as Ambessa's hand pressed more firmly against your back, guiding you to your feet. "Join us.” she commanded softly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for only a moment before obeying, letting her lead you exactly where you wanted to be. Right inbetween the two of them. Her hand stayed firm against your back, her touch grounding yet electrifying.

"You've been watching like you want something," Ambessa murmured, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "Well?"

"I..." You trailed off, unsure of how to put into words the mix of desire and anticipation swirling inside you.

"Shy now?" Sevika teased, stepping closer until her chest was nearly brushing against your back. She reached out, her calloused fingers tilting your chin up so you had to look at her. "Don't be."

The proximity of both women was overwhelming, their sheer size making you feel small and delicate in comparison. Ambessa's hands slid down to your hips, pulling you flush against her chest while Sevika's fingers trailed along your jawline.

"You're trembling," Ambessa noted with a smirk, her voice a low rumble against your back. "Are we making you nervous, darling?"

"I-i’m not nervous," you managed to say, though your voice betrayed you.

Ambessa chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest and into your body. "Good," she said. "Because we're just getting started."

Before you could respond, Ambessa leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both commanding and intoxicating. Her hands tightened on your hips, holding you firmly against her as her lips moved against yours with expert precision.

You barely had time to process the kiss before Sevika's lips found the curve of your neck, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. The combination of their touches was almost too much to handle, and yet you craved more.

Ambessa pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she looked down at you. "Sevika," she said, her tone carrying a hint of command.

Sevika hummed in response, her lips still pressed against your neck.

"I think you want more," Ambessa said, a mischievous glint in her eye as she looked between you and Sevika.

Sevika smirked, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as she pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. "Then we shouldn't disappoint," she said, her voice low and full of promise.

As they both closed in on you, you couldn't help but feel excitement. Being caught between these two powerful women, their attention focused entirely on you, was a dream come true. And as their lips and hands began explored every inch of your body, you couldn’t resist.

THE NEXT PART

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[sanemistar]

DANGEROUS MAN

contents ★ clan leader!gojo x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fluff, suggestive (17+), making out, slight mention of biting/marking, reader gets called princess, 1.6k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

your parents had warned you several times about satoru gojo, the leader of the gojo clan. one of the strongest clans to exist, along with your own clan. they had forbidden you from speaking him, let alone being in the same room as him. due to the long history and the rivalry between your clan and the gojos, your clans had considered each other enemies for as long as one could remember. you had been familiar with their warnings like the back of your hand, and you had abided by them for so long. though you personally had no ill intentions towards him, nor even understood the hatred against the gojos.

that was, until you had met him in person at one of those boring higher up gatherings that you were forced to attend when you two coincidently went outside to get a breath of fresh air, away from all the tension and awkwardness inside.

the first thought that had come across your mind when you first saw satoru was that he was charming, like one of those charming princes you read about in fairy tales. you’d seen him in pictures before, but never this close. truth be told, pictures could’ve never fully captured how ethereal he looked in real life. you’d never seen anyone like him before, and you probably never would. he was simply out of this world, like a work of art—a one in a million man. enchanted by his beauty, you couldn’t help but stare at him in admiration. your eyes never dared to look away from him, as if they were glued onto him.

“well well. if it isn’t you, the princess from that clan.” satoru’s voice pierced through your ears, waking you up from your dazed state. “you’ve been staring at me for so long, like i’m a statue in a museum or something.” you were unaware of how long you’d been staring at satoru until you saw the confusion on his face as he pointed out. you felt your face redden in embarrassment and you immediately looked down in an attempt to hide your flushed face.

“s-sorry about that, gojo-san. i didn’t mean to do that, i just…” you trailed off mid sentence, unsure of what to say in order to justify your actions earlier. your head was in and your thoughts were all over the place.

you heard a pair of footsteps coming closer to you and before you was none other than satoru. the one man you shouldn’t be standing so close to. your mind was telling you to run away and leave, but your body refused to move an inch. his thumb quickly glazed over your chin, swiftly lifting it up and your eyes got caught in his alluring gaze like a mouse in a cheese trap that was unable to escape before he let go of your chin. you could swear that the spot where he touched you earlier was tingling, as if his touch was electric.

“oh c’mon, no need for these formalities. they mean nothing to me. my name is satoru, so just call me satoru.” he spoke and you were slightly taken aback, you two had just met and he already wanted you to act on a first name basis.

“but..” he cut you mid sentence.

“no buts, it’s pretty easy. just repeat after me, satoru.” he said his name again slowly, waiting for you to say it back. he was pretty insistent on it so it looked like you had no choice.

“satoru.” his name finally rolled off your tongue, and a proud smirk made its way onto his face upon hearing you say his name. the way it came off your lips got him a little excited.

just then an idea popped up in satoru’s head, a reckless one at that.

“why don’t we go somewhere else where it’s just us two? away from all this.” he grabbed your hand gently yet firmly, like he had no intention of leaving you alone.

you knew best that it was never good ignoring what your parents had told you and involving yourself with him. but at that moment, you agreed to go with him. completely forgetting about everything, the rivalry, the hatred, everything. you weren’t sure if that was a rebellion phase or what, all you knew was that it felt right leaving with him.

satoru seemed surprised for a moment by how quickly you agreed to follow him, but grinned and took your hand before dragging the two of you away as you disappeared from the main entrance and into a quieter place where it was just you and him.

you had no idea how you ended up being pinned against the wall with satoru’s tall, lean figure hovering over you. completely blocking your view and blocking you from sight.

“why did you follow me so easily, hm? what if i had a malicious intention of some sort. didn’t your parents warn you about how dangerous the gojos were? especially their leader.” your chest moved up and down as your heart began racing rapidly.

“if you had any malicious intentions like you said, you would’ve taken me somewhere outside the territory. but since we didn’t really go that far away, it’d be useless for you to be doing anything dangerous here.” you began explaining. and satoru seemed so impressed by your smart response.

“you’re indeed very amusing.” he chuckled softly. he rested his hands on the wall, forcing you to look at nothing else around but him.

tension between the two of you began rising, and you found yourself subconsciously looking at his lips.

and satoru was so quick to notice how you were eyeing his lips for a while now.

“you could’ve simply asked me for a kiss if you want it so badly instead of just staring at my lips, princess.” he leaned in as he whispered into your ear and you could feel it heat up a bit in embarrassment.

and before you could get the chance to say anything you felt satoru’s lips smacking onto yours. you gasped into the kiss in surprise, your mind screamed at you to break away and push him off of you. but this time not only your body, but also your heart, refused to. you wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in the mood as you pulled him even closer to you. your fingers ran through the back of his soft hair.

meanwhile, satoru’s hands delicately trailed all over your back, slowly exploring every part and every bit of your skin. he was taking his sweet time touching you all while having your lips against his own, tongue exploring every corner of your mouth.

as the two of you further got in the mood, your kisses had become sloppier and hungrier. teeth clashing against each other as tongues swirled around one another in sync. what started off as a soft, gentle kiss had become a series of deep, passionate kisses that held so much lust and desire in them.

you felt so good that you could almost see stars.

“mhmm..” careful not to make any loud noises in order to avoid getting caught by anyone, you hummed against his lips. and you never knew you had the ability to hum like that ever so sweetly.

you couldn’t believe that you were doing such things with the one man you were never supposed to be doing all of that with.

satoru gojo was indeed dangerous, he was too dangerous for your heart.

the two of you had been making out for almost ten minutes straight. if it wasn’t for your desperate need for air to breathe, you wouldn’t have broken away. but due to the lack of oxygen, you had to break away from the kiss and catch your breath. eyes were only half open, your head was still light and dizzy after that makeout session as you were heavily panting, your lips which were now swollen were still slightly parted as a small trail of drool trickled down your chin.

“you look so beautiful right now, i think i’m in love.” satoru glazed his thumb over the corner of your lips, wiping the drool off. he leaned in once more and began nibbling on the crook of your slender neck and you winced a little as you felt him biting a bit too hard which would have probably left a mark that you would have to hide.

“maybe we should leave all this behind and run away together. it’s a great idea, don’t you think?” he suggested as he looked up at you, his blue eyes glowed slightly in the dark.

you suddenly came back to your senses upon hearing the words he said and slightly pushed him off of you.

“satoru we..” you began speaking, trying to form a coherent sentence. “we can’t do that. we’re supposed to be enemies, remember?” it was more of a reminder to yourself than it was to him that you and satoru would never be anything more than enemies.

“but enemies don’t kiss each other like that.” he whispered as he continued kissing your neck and up to your cheeks, then your nose, then back to your lips. he gave you quick, light pecks before pulling away.

“guess i’ll have to talk to those annoying higher ups of ours and end that nonsense rivalry, cause no way i’m gonna let you be with anyone else that’s not me.”

and the next thing you knew, you were being dragged by satoru into the main hall where all the higher ups were as both of you made a dramatic entrance when he announced that he’d be marrying you before kissing you in front of all of them. leaving everyone in the room, you included, in great shock.

satoru gojo was a dangerous, very dangerous man.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies

[ak319]

Yan Regent Consort x fem reader

Headcanon

(Warnings: This story contains matriarchal themes, fem dom such as mpreg, fem dominated world, role reversal, and BXG pairing! Yes, it's a boy x girl, so don't interact if you are not comfortable!!)

Xu Junlai was a boy who held different roles in the eyes of others, son to some, friend to some, an object of admiration or envy to others. He was born into a family of five sons and two daughters. His mother, Xu Huang, served as a minister in the court, while his father, Xu... well, he wasn’t married into the Xu family, he was merely a concubine of Junlai’s mother. Because of this, Junlai never received familial love, not from his step-siblings and not even from his mother, who was always either too busy or uninterested in family matters. Her absence from his life gave his brothers free rein to treat him as they pleased.

His oldest sibling was his sister, Xu Tai, whom everyone feared. She didn’t particularly dote on him, but she maintained order in the household whenever she returned from her training and service in the army. Xu Tai had high ambitions for the country, aspiring one day to become a commander or much better a General. His other sister, Xu Ai, was studying to be a scholar; she was a year older than Junlai, who himself was the second youngest in the family.

Junlai had long learned that if he didn’t stand up for himself and speak for himself, he would live a life of misery and eventually die alone, perhaps with no one to mourn his passing. So, he did speak for himself when necessary. A hard life had forced him into this role. It wasn’t as if anyone liked him before, or that he had earned any respect, so what was there to lose?

He had passions that he quietly pursued, calligraphy, reading books, sneakily borrowing them from Tai’s library at the estate and, most importantly, dancing. Yet he was made fun of, and ridiculed for his interests.

“Your father was a prostitute, and you doing this seems to scream that you are on the same path. You disgrace,” his stepfather, Xu Fen, sneered. But his words never truly hurt Junlai.

“But your sons are learning such skills too. Are they on the same path?”

“THEY ARE NOT! They are doing that so that when the time arises, they will be presented to the court for the new Empress and her harem. That is where their skills will shine; being a Xu, that is inevitable. You, however…”

“Mother may not have married my father, but she openly acknowledged that I have been granted the name Xu.”

“So? What are you--oh--so you want to enter the court? That might be the funniest thing I’ve heard this week. Part of the reason your presence here is sometimes bearable. Have you seen yourself? There is nothing graceful about you, such venomous features, that blank face, eyes like a devil’s. You are someone any woman would avoid, not bed.” Fen’s cackles echoed in the distance as Junlai stood in the garden, his usual blank expression firmly in place.

The court? But he didn’t desire any of that. That was a life of hell. As if my life is better now... Harem or no harem, at least he could demonstrate his skills and take a jab at his useless brothers. Perhaps that was the most thrilling part of it all. There was absolutely no chance that an Empress or even the Emperor Dowager would allow the son of a prostitute to enter the harem.

So, Junlai practised night after night, in the empty hall that felt both sacred and suffocating. The flickering candles cast shadows that danced like ghosts on the walls, whispering secrets of long-forgotten elegance. The sound of anklets chimed like distant bells, while the rustle of silken fabric filled the air, wrapping around him like a lover’s embrace. In the dim light, his body became a fluid extension of art, each movement imbued with a haunting beauty that could draw anyone into his graceful orbit. And perhaps, just perhaps, the voice that emerged from his lips was powerful enough to ensnare even the coldest of hearts.

But one fateful night, when he miraculously received permission from his mother to join the ceremony, everything changed. Three of his brothers discovered him lost in his usual routine, an ethereal vision in the half-light. As always, he expected their laughter, their scorn, but no... that night, the hall, once a sanctuary, transformed into a chamber of horrors.

Instead of melodies, the air was filled with his screams as they pinned him down, the laughter of his brothers echoing like a dark symphony. They poured scalding water over his feet, the pain searing through him, brutal and unrelenting--just a week before the ceremony.

═��═══ ◈ ═════

The day of the ceremony arrived, and you, the new Empress, had only been on the throne for a year after successfully defeating your sisters for the throne. However you were overwhelmed by the throng of men entering your court, you sat in silence, your mind already planning the next day's work while subtly noting the movements and behaviours of your court members.

The musical festivities began, likely your father's favorite part, as it allowed him to exert his influence over the affairs of the men. You had little energy to deal with such trivialities, and the classification of men in this way unsettled you. Your mother was deeply involved in it all, and you loathed the thought of it.

"Those are the sons of the Xu family, good-looking, aren't they?" your father remarked, his voice dripping with expectation. Your head snapped to his direction, and for a fleeting moment, you glanced at the display before you.

“Um, yes,” you replied, your tone devoid of enthusiasm.

Your father internally rolled his eyes at your lacklustre response. You might have bedded a few men and have a son with one of the concubines, but it was clear you weren’t taking any of them seriously. 'This idiot daughter of mine, clearly not worried about not having an heir still. By now your mother would have had three-'

"They came for you, so at least enjoy it a bit. If you prefer any changes, the music, the dance-"

"It's fine, Father. It's fine."

You granted your approval to Xu Huang in the end, an honest minister in your eyes, someone even your mother trusted. Her daughter, Tai, was a formidable warrior, perhaps the first to impress you with her skills.

As dinner commenced, no one anticipated the doors to swing open once more. A lone figure stepped into the hall, drawing everyone's attention, including yours. He was slender, his long hair tousled—surprisingly beautiful even in such disarray. Those eyes of his, empty yet hauntingly deep, bore into yours with an intensity that both intrigued and unsettled you.

His walk was seductive yet exuded an aura of defeat and determination. Silence enveloped the hall, a palpable tension as he stood in the centre, commanding attention. That’s when you noticed his feet, bare and crimson. You were certain that if you looked closer, you would see the dark stains of blood marring his skin.

It felt as though the entire court was holding its breath, waiting for you to question him. Just then, you caught the whisper of Xu Huang, “Son…” from her seat a few feet away.

Her son?

"Are you... Xu’s son?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued.

He nodded.

“Um--your Majesty, he was sick, so he couldn't perform earlier, although his name was registered on the list by me…” Xu Huang explained, her voice steady yet tinged with concern. You responded with a curt nod, your mind racing.

“If you are sick, then you shouldn’t be here,” you asserted, a protective instinct rising within you. You were certain the sickness plagued his feet. There was no way you would allow him to dance under such conditions.

“I want to dance,” he replied, his voice challenging and unwavering.

The spark in his tone caught you off guard. What an odd boy...

“Very well. Then do. I would like to see you dance,” you commanded, a blend of intrigue fluttering in your chest

“Your Majes-” Xu Huang began, but your glare silenced her immediately.

“Begin.”

As the sounds of the pipa and hulusi filled the hall, an almost electric hush fell over the audience. Everyone shifted their attention from their meals to the boy dancing, his presence so captivating that even your father, Wang Hua, sat bewildered. A simmering anger brewed within him as he grappled with his own intrigue. Are you seriously interested in him?

Though Hua possessed some knowledge about the boy, witnessing the fluidity and artistry of his dance made those thoughts melt away. Junlai moved as if in a trance, each motion a hauntingly beautiful expression that stirred something deep within you. The performance was mesmerizing, drawing you into a world that felt both ethereal and painfully real.

The only glimmer of envy and fury came from Junlai’s own brother and step-father, their faces twisted in disdain as they seethed at the spectacle before them. Even the blood that dripped from Junlai’s feet onto the glass-like floor seemed to only heighten their ire. They couldn’t maintain your gaze for even a moment, while Junlai seemed to command the room effortlessly, as if reigning over it with merely a flick of his wrist.

As the final echoes of Junlai’s performance faded, your ears, now deprived of the boy’s beautiful voice, were met once again with a profound silence that enveloped the hall.

Junlai stood with his gaze cast down, a picture of humility, while you rose from the podium, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. A ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd, their eyes wide with curiosity about what would unfold next. To your surprise, the boy barely flinched as you stood before him, towering over his slight frame.

“Name?” you inquired, your voice steady.

“Junlai,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And who did this to you...?” You leaned closer, searching his eyes for the truth.

His neutral gaze met yours, and you sensed a flicker of vulnerability beneath his composed exterior.

“People... whom I would rather not talk about on such a glorious day... a day for you, my Majesty.” He lowered himself in a respectful bow, his head tilting downward, yet his posture remained defiantly graceful.

“Is that so...?” you mused, glancing at Naun, your attendant, who stood discreetly behind a pillar to your left. She nodded subtly, understanding the unspoken command in your gaze.

This boy not only is now part of your harem but...your choice for the night.

You were resolute, you would not entertain the other sons of the Xu family. What need had you for them? Junlai’s dance eclipsed all of theirs combined, a testament to his raw talent and spirit. You were not greedy, you simply sought the best. And he was not only the best but also intriguingly peculiar, a captivating boy you were eager to indulge in and explore further.

As you crawled on top of him, Junlai had been cleaned and prepared for your gaze, yet a small part of you missed his disheveled appearance, the wild, untamed beauty that spoke of his struggles. You soothed yourself with the reminder that he would soon return to that captivating state.

“When I asked you about the culprits, you didn’t name them. You don’t want me to punish them?” you murmured, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, relishing the softness of his skin as he leaned into your rough hand.

“But you already have... by choosing me,” he replied, a hint of defiance in his voice. You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound deep and rich. “You are... something, you know. I have never encountered a boy like you... but I always wanted to.”

“I never wanted this... to be in the bed of an empress, in her harem, but here I am…” His words hung in the air, laced with a surprising confidence. Something about you made him bold enough to voice such thoughts. You didn’t seem as cold and cruel as the whispers suggested, those comparisons to your mother fading in the warmth of his gaze.

Your deep chuckle reverberated against his neck, sending shivers coursing through his body. “Oh, how lucky I am then. More fortunate than any empress, for having caught you.” You pulled away slightly to meet his eyes, searching for the flicker of fear, but finding only intrigue. “Being in a harem means being mine, and I take care of what I own.”

“Do you fear me, Junlai?” you asked, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “You should...."

His heart raced at the challenge in your tone. “I don’t fear you, your Majesty. I only fear what I might become under your rule,” he replied, daring to meet your intense gaze.

“Ah, but isn’t that the thrill of it all?” You leaned in closer, your lips brushing tantalizingly against his ear as you spoke. A gasp left his plump lips as you nibbled on it.

Junlai’s breath quickened as your gaze pierced into him, as if you were seeing not just the boy he was but the depths of his soul. The air thickened with an intoxicating blend of fear and desire. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, enveloping him in a cocoon of both safety and peril.

Your fingers danced down his arm, tracing delicate patterns that ignited his skin, setting his nerves alight. Junlai's breath hitched as he felt the heat of your body press against him, a heady mix of power and vulnerability.

“Do you see how beautifully broken you are?” you continued, your voice low and mesmerizing.

Junlai felt the walls around his heart tremble, caught in the magnetic pull of your words. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the challenge now tinged with uncertainty.

“Everything.” Your lips curled into a wicked smile, a promise of the chaos to come. “I want your loyalty, your obedience, and most importantly, your heart. I will not only keep you in my harem, I will make you my most cherished treasure.”

As you leaned closer again, your lips tantalizingly brushing against his, he could feel the weight of your intentions, his robe being done deftly by your rough fingers. “Now, are you ready to dance for me?” you asked, your eyes glinting with mischief and hunger."

Junlai nodded, a flicker of excitement igniting within him. At that moment, he was no longer just a boy marked by pain, he was a dancer, ready to twirl and leap into the unknown, to be claimed by you.

═════ ◈ ═════

Junlai sat in the veranda, gazing out at the distant mountains with a forlorn expression, his slender fingers tapping absently on the polished wooden rail. Though the quarters designated for the favored concubine were lavish, adorned with silks and priceless porcelain, the space felt hollow without you. If only he could give you a daughter, the coveted title of consort would be his. The thought flitted through his mind like an unreachable dream. And yet, as the days stretched into months, it was your absence that gnawed at him, leaving him restless and aching.

God, when would you return from the campaign? Two months had passed, each day heavier than the last. He endured the whispers, and the scorn from the other concubines who mocked him for his damaged feet, but he bore it all without flinching. He knew you valued him for his skill, his grace, the things that went beyond mere perfection. You had appointed the empire's finest healers to tend to him, a silent reassurance that he still held a place in your heart.

Even the Emperor Dowager, shrewd and discerning, seemed to favour him, perhaps because he respected his daughter's choices or was mesmerized by his art. Either way, his endorsement granted him a measure of safety within the harem’s hostile world. And yet, safety was far from his mind. He spent sleepless nights worrying about you, imagining the dangers you might face, each possible harm a dagger in his chest. His own safety meant nothing if you were not there, by his side, safe and triumphant. He danced in the empty hall , every night, all night even. His gaze at the marble wall at the end, imagining you sitting in your throne watching his performance. Every word, every step a testimony for your longing. If anyone else saw him at night , they would be scared for their life.

A boy dancing as if he was possessed.

What had he become? Another lovesick boy, a fool just like his father, infatuated, aching, lost to his devotion. He had once vowed never to become so vulnerable, and yet here he was, the intensity of his love binding him more than duty or obligation ever could. He used to revel in this power, at first motivated by pride, even defiance, to show his brothers that he had won something they could never touch. But now, with every beat of his heart, every drop of his blood, he was wholly, helplessly, irrevocably yours.

Although not long ago, one significant shift rippled through the palace, Xu Tai, the skilled warrior whose loyalty you trusted, was now appointed as General. Junlai took comfort in this news. His sister's allegiance was unwavering, and her impressive abilities spoke for themselves. You chose her for her skill and integrity, qualities Junlai respected, and even admired from afar. He knew that with Tai at the helm, your interests, and your life, were in capable hands.

He hadn’t anticipated finding peace in such a development, yet knowing Tai held this position gave him a strange sense of relief. However when he just received a letter from Tai herself, that sense of relief seemed to diminish.

You had been poisoned by an arrow at the battlefield. Thankfully the physician present did their best to take it out but it was unknown if you would come back alive. The news was also sent to the Emperor and eventually spread over the harem and then the country.

The news struck the palace like a tempest. Word spread first as whispers in dimly lit corridors, then as gasps behind silken fans, until eventually, the rumours became cries of despair from every corner of the empire. The Empress has been poisoned, they said, her life teetering on the edge. The harem held its breath, the concubines offering quiet prayers. Yet amidst them all, Junlai felt as though his entire world had shattered.

Days passed in agonizing limbo, and Junlai clung to any scrap of information he could gather. The air in his chambers grew thick with dread, the whispers of the other concubines like needles against his skin. Would she return? Could she survive this? He tried to still his racing heart, to banish the wretched possibilities that plagued him day and night, but his mind clung stubbornly to images of your pale face, the way you looked as he’d last seen you, strong, assured, untouchable.

But now, you were mortal. Wounded. Vulnerable.

He’d never felt so powerless. Each night he would sit in the garden, his injured feet barely feeling the cold stone beneath them as he gazed at the stars, praying fervently for your safety. Let her come back to me, he whispered into the darkness. Take my health, my strength, take anything you want, but let her live.

The news of the looming threat reached the palace in the dead of night, casting a shadow over an already grief-stricken palace. The Chief Minister summoned her closest advisors including Xu Huang, the walls of the council chamber echoing with grave voices as they strategized. The Wei Dynasty had betrayed them, their forces striking not only on the battlefield but now threatening the heart of the empire, taking advantage of your absence. This insidious plot was spearheaded by the rebel leader Guo Wang, a lecherous woman of ruthless ambition and bloodthirsty intent. Her name alone sent ripples of fear through the court, her reputation for savagery preceding her.

The capital was left vulnerable in a way it hadn’t been for years. With Tai, your most loyal and capable General, at your side on the battlefield, and your position as Empress left temporarily vacant, the capital was guarded only by lesser warriors and the remaining commanders, a force barely sufficient for an ambush of this scale.

Junlai’s despair deepened. He had kept his composure in the wake of your injury, holding fast to the hope that you would return to him. But now the looming threat to the capital turned that sorrow into fear and fury. He knew what would come if Guo Wang breached the palace walls, the carnage that woman would wreak upon all in her path. The court, the innocents of the capital, and, he shuddered, the vulnerable harem.

He understood now what his sister had never fully articulated, the key to victory was not in repeating the old ways, but in disrupting the enemy's expectations. And Guo Wang’s forces? They would be expecting the standard defences. They would expect the palace to hide behind walls, women in armour standing guard at every gate. That was their mistake. Junlai knew better. But being a man and more so a mere consort was something that Junlai couldn't change. Nobody would listen to him. Two weeks left before the Guo reaches them even if Tai had sent for backup to the capital, it would have taken them a bit longer to get here.

No, he would not let this slide. The audacity to kill you , trying to take you AWAY FROM HIM!?. He will fucking lay corpses upon corpses of these disgusting pieces of filth. He will BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!

"I will not rest until I see you fall, Guo Wang..."

═════ ◈ ═════

"Mother, please. Trust me. You have to listen-"

"Your only job is to stay here, in the harem, and bear her children! Leave the military and court decisions to the court and the Empress."

Xu Huang froze, his chest tightening at the cold dismissal. His mother, ever so pragmatic, always intent on keeping him within the narrow boundaries of what was deemed acceptable for someone of his position. But tonight, he couldn’t bear it anymore. The years of suffocating silence, the weight of expectations that had been placed on him, all of it came crashing down in a wave of defiance.

"BUT I AM DOING THIS FOR THE EMPRESS!" His voice rang out, sharp and unforgiving. Xu Huang recoiled as if struck, the shock of his outburst still fresh in the air. But his fury only seemed to fuel him further. "Her Majesty’s court, her harem... I will not let some barbarian come in and tear it all apart. And don’t forget it, Mother!" He took a step forward, his voice thick with venom, his eyes burning with a passion he hadn’t allowed himself to show before. The tears were a mask, barely held together by his pride.

"I WILL protect her, and I WILL protect this dynasty."

He let his words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. He stood taller now, a dangerous glint in his eye, as he moved closer, letting the venomous truth seep into every syllable. "As for bearing children, oh sure, I will. But I won’t do it for you. I’ll do it for ME. For MY future. I’ll be elevated, not you. You will always remain a slave to the system, while I may one day be a part of the Wang dynasty. And you know what that could mean." His voice dropped to a low, almost mocking tone. "How do you think Tai became the General? If I can place someone on the board, I can just as easily toss them out."

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Xu Huang’s eyes at the mention of Tai, but it was quickly masked. He knew the truth, he had no such influence, but the bluff was enough. It was enough to make his mother tremble. The stoic, unflinching woman who had held him back his entire life now looked unsure, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if seeking something to steady herself.

"What are you proposing?" Her voice, cold as ever, betrayed the slight quiver in her tone. She had heard his words, but was she truly willing to listen?

Junlai smirked, the edge of triumph curling at the corners of his lips. "Now, we are talking."

═════ ◈ ═════

Junlai had always been more than just a skilled dancer; his mind was a sharp, calculating instrument that never ceased its relentless pursuit of efficiency and innovation. While the others focused on traditional warfare, the old strategies, sieging, ambushing, and brute force, Junlai saw only limitations. What he needed was an advantage that would catch their enemies off guard, something that no one had considered. The answer, as it often was, lay in nature.

Birds.

The idea came to him one evening while he watched the flock of crows circling above the harem. Their wings cutting through the air with precision, their effortless movement, a pattern of chaos within perfect order. It wasn't just the birds that caught his attention, but the fact that they held the power to burn.

In the markets, there had been whispers of incendiary techniques used by distant lands, fire-starting mechanisms using birds trained to carry torches. The court dismissed this concept as superstition, yet to Junlai, it was a brilliant, unrecognised weapon.

Junlai would need to launch the birds at night when the enemy's defences were at their weakest. The element of surprise would be vital, he knew that as soon as the birds were released, they would need to fly directly to their targets, avoiding the natural predators and the dangers of interception. So he had the women train them, following his instructions.

He took advantage of the dark sky, the birds’ natural night-flying abilities, to send them directly into the heart of Guo Wang’s camp. The wind, as if in cooperation with his plan, would be at their backs, ensuring that the fires would spread faster.

The moment the birds were released, the chaos began.

As the trained crows took flight, their wings slicing through the air like silent messengers of destruction, the fire lit up, first softly, then raging. Guo Wang's forces had no warning, no time to react. They watched in horror as the embers from above ignited their tents, their supplies, and worst of all, their weapons.

The women who had been enlisted as fighters, strong in their defiance but unprepared for such an assault, panicked as the fire spread, consuming their weapons and armour. Their leaders scrambled, but the flames had already done the work. The camp was ablaze, confusion and terror rippling through the ranks. The birds had burned their half camp, crippled their supply chain, and taken away the one thing they held most precious, control.

Thus, it made it easier for the soldiers to attack Guo's forces and easily win. Junlai watched with pride as he saw Guo's head impaled and being paraded around inside the castle's walls. A perfect homecoming gift for you. A gift to prove that he was not just a man in your harem, but someone who would do anything to ensure your reign remained unchallenged. Which made him again fall into a pit of worry for your return.

"Her Majesty has returned!" one of the attendants announced, her voice echoing down the hall.

Junlai stood in the corridor of the harem, his heart pounding in his chest. He had not realized how much he had missed you until the news arrived, that you were finally returning from the battlefield, victorious, but at a terrible cost. The victory meant nothing if it came at the cost of your well-being.

He watched from the shadows with along with other concubines as you entered, your face a bit pale but overall with no less than a sturdy and imperial aura. Your steps echoed in the hall as you greeted your father, your son and for a fleeting moment, met his gaze.

His mind was torn between wanting to rush to you and knowing that you would hate such an open display. So, he waited, watching, every fibre of his being aching to be near you.

And you called him finally, after two painful days.

"I... Your Majesty," Junlai's voice cracked slightly, betraying his calm facade. He couldn't hide the flood of emotions that coursed through him, the concern, the longing, the worry. He took another step closer, his voice low, "You came back... but how long will it take until you're truly well again?"

You always held yourself in such high regard, and the idea of being seen as anything less than the Empress was a bitter pill to swallow.

"I am better," you said, your tone firm, but Junlai could see the exhaustion etched into your features. "The battle was won, and my soldiers did well. That's enough for me."

Junlai stood in front of you now, so close that he could reach out and touch you if he dared. His gaze softened even further, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, him staring into your eyes, his heart heavy with the thoughts he didn’t dare speak aloud. Then he was finally graced with your embrace causing him to breakdown.

"Whatever it takes. Just... don’t push yourself too hard. You need rest." He whispered getting his act together.

You gestured for him to sat beside you on the bed. "I heard from Father...about what you did." He gulped, his form of being just...a boy in love under your gaze.

"I... I just... couldn't-- I had to! I did it all in fear of what might... happen..." You raised his chin.

"You didn't do it for love, then?"

"Of course I did! I did it for you only!" He grasped your hand against his cheek, his eyes filling with tears, his voice breaking at every word. "You... have no idea... what... torture it was for me to live after knowing that happened to you... my Queen. It was worse than death itself."

A hint of a smile graced your lips. "I am proud of you. I am... proud of my choice too..." You gazed lovingly at his face and wiped his tears, pulling his frail body to your chest. "Tai told me you... always had an interest in warfare... sneaked in to read her books."

His heart stopped. His sister... knew? All this time... she did? Yet she...

"Um... I--- yes." His whole body shivered when your deep chuckle traveled to every cell in his body.

"I have made a... decision."

His hands fisted your tunic in anticipation. "You will be the Regent consort here when I am away. You will manage the harem, manage the safety of the capital, it's people. Charities and all."

Junlai’s heart skipped a beat. His initial instinct was to deny, to say that it was nothing, that he just did his duty and wanted nothing more than to be a mere slave to your love. But the way you spoke to him with a glint of respect, of something more than just duty, it made him pause.

You saw him. Truly saw him.

He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the trembling in his hands, the heat in his chest. Regent consort. The title echoed in his mind like a promise, like a dream he had never dared to imagine. No man had ever had it...it didn't even exist until now. He would be the first man in history to have that. He will be known by every generation to come..

"But--but I... I don't deserve it," he stammered, the weight of your approval sinking into him. "I am... only a concubine, someone who had no right to such a role. You shouldn't place such responsibility on me."

You leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture, lifting his gaze with a gentle but firm pressure. "You don’t need to deserve it, Junlai," you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of your conviction. "You have already proven your loyalty, your cunning, and your heart."

You emphasized with a small but significant shift in tone, "You are my mind in the harem. You will ensure that my absence does not shake the foundations of this dynasty. You will stand guard over the people, the capital... everything I’ve worked for."

Junlai’s hands clenched tighter around your tunic as he processed the weight of your words. The enormity of the role, the responsibility, it was almost too much. But the way you spoke, the way you believed in him, gave him a strength he didn’t know he had.

"Are you afraid?" you asked, your voice soft but direct, your eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his knees weak.

He paused, feeling a swirl of emotions churn in his chest. Fear. Desire. Ambition. Hope. They all mixed together until he couldn’t tell where one feeling ended and another began. But he was honest with you, always. "Yes," he said simply. "I am afraid. But if it means standing by your side... I will do whatever it takes."

You smiled at him, a slow, dangerous smile that made his breath catch in his throat. "Good," you said, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a low murmur and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

He had never imagined that the harem would become more than just a gilded cage. He had never imagined that he would be the one trusted to hold the reins when you were away. But now, it felt like everything was changing.

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But there was none. Only a quiet confidence that he knew, deep down, was meant for him.

"I won’t let you down," he whispered, his voice steady with determination, even as the weight of his new role settled over him like a mantle. "I will protect everything you’ve built, Empress. And I will make sure that no one dares challenge your rule."

You let out a satisfied sigh, your fingers trailing down the length of his arm as you leaned back, taking in the sight of him, your trusted consort, your mind in the harem.

His eyes softened, and for the first time since the battle, since everything had changed, he felt a flicker of peace settle in his chest. There was no going back now. But for the first time, he didn’t want to. He had you. And that was all that mattered.

Junlai leaned into you then, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath steadying as he let himself savor the moment, the moment where everything shifted, where he was no longer just a boy in your harem but the one who would protect everything you held dear.

Though, he mustn't forget one last thing~~

═════ ◈ ═════

"Ju-nlai?" Xu Fen stammered, his face twisting into an expression of disbelief. The boy, no, the boy, who once knelt before him, who had suffered beneath his cruelty, now stood in front of him as a figure that exuded nothing but cold authority. The sight rattled Fen to his core.

Junlai’s gaze locked onto him, dead and distant, as though he were staring through him. “I came to meet my brothers,” he said, his voice as calm as the still waters of a lake, but carrying the weight of a storm hidden just beneath the surface.

“Oh really? Why is that?” Fen’s words dripped with thinly veiled disdain, though his insides were anything but calm. He took a cautious step backward, uncertain of what Junlai intended. The boy had always been an afterthought, a lesser player in the family’s schemes. But that had changed, and Fen knew it.

Junlai’s eyes flickered over the room, moving like cold knives, and finally settled on the women standing behind him. His gaze was hollow, merciless. “Are you going to bring them out, or...?" His words trailed off, but the implication was clear. He wasn’t asking, he was commanding. His tone had a chilling finality, as though the fate of everyone in that room rested solely in his hands now.

Fen felt the air constrict around him, the tension thickening with each passing second. He swallowed hard, unable to hide his discomfort. With a reluctant sigh and a sour expression, he turned on his heel and went to summon the others, though it pained him to do so. He knew it was futile to resist. The man who stood in his mansion now was not the boy he had once controlled but something far more dangerous.

Minutes passed, each one dragging as Fen stood nervously, but when the Xu brothers arrived, they entered with a mixture of curiosity and defiance. They were offended, of course, by Junlai’s sudden appearance, but there was a deeper undercurrent of fear in their eyes

"Same as always..." Junlai murmured to himself, but his smile, if it could even be called that, was something else entirely. It was a sharp, knowing grin, filled with something dangerous. His voice rose, becoming almost melodic in its dark amusement. "Which is going to make it more fun!"

For the first time in the Xu household, the black sheep of the family, Junlai, let out a laugh, but it was no ordinary laugh. It was a hollow, manic laugh that seemed to echo off the walls. The sound was unsettling, almost inhuman, a reminder of the twisted journey that had led him to this moment.

Junlai’s eyes never left them as he spoke again, his voice low and chilling. “You see… I’ve come to remind you what happens when you think you can break me. You’ve burned me before… but now, I’m going to return the favour.”

Fen’s heart skipped a beat. He had always thought he could control Junlai, keep him beneath his bootheel. He had been wrong.

“Now, I think it’s time for you to understand what it feels like.”

It took one subtle gesture from Junlai and the guards moved quickly, and efficiently, grabbing the Xu brothers and laying them down on the floor. Their hands were bound, their legs spread wide, and Junlai’s eyes glinted with a dangerous gleam as he stepped closer, his boots making a soft but deliberate thud with each step. The room seemed to grow colder.

"No--p-please...forgive them...NO! I BEG YOU!" Fen's voice mixed with his son's pleas as well which earned him a slap from Junlai. That was all it took to reduce them to sobs and whimpers.

"Shut your fucking mouth, whore. And watch." He dug his hands into Fen's hair and steadied him beside himself. "Look, how cute they look." He giggled.

The guard poured more water onto the brothers' feet, the boiling liquid now bubbling and splashing as it engulfed their limbs. The screams grew louder, desperate. One of the brothers jerked against his restraints, his body writhing in pain, but there was nowhere to go. Fen could hear their flesh sizzling, the sound of raw skin peeling and blistering under the scalding heat. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He had put them through this once before. Now it was his turn to witness the consequences. God, he always loved fire and its power. In fact, he began to see himself in it. Agile, dangerous, unyielding and most importantly, passionate when it came to you.

Fen watched, trembling, as the heat of the water burned into the skin of his sons. Junlai stood tall, his form casting a long shadow over the brothers writhing in pain, and spoke in a voice that resonated with unrelenting authority: “Let this be a reminder, boys." As he turned to leave, his guards following behind him, the sound of his laughter lingered in the air, a dark, triumphant melody that filled the hearts of those who heard it with dread.

Now is the turn of some concubines who have been acting up recently in your absence. Surely, they won't mind a little visit, right?

"Everyone stresses out your father soo much, don't they?" He cooed , caressing his flat abdomen as he settled in the carriage.

Nevertheless, it's all entertainment for him.

[hellishjoel]

positions

2.4k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog

chapter summary: You and Joel mutually pleasure each other while “researching” porn. 

chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak/TLOU, Joel is a tattoo artist with tattoos and piercings, Joel and reader are in the pre-phase of creating porn together, watching porn together, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (angel, bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pain kink, daddy kink, oral (m!receiving), size kink, fingering (f!receiving), squirting, hair pulling, one (1) pussy smack, pussy and cock pronouns

A/N: this was written as a mini chapter within the cherry thrill series but can be read as a standalone. a hugehugehuge shoutout to @devineconjuring because without her support, I wouldn’t have even thought about sitting down to write this when the creative burst finally hit! everyone thank annie for beta’ing this mini-chapter! divider is by @firefly-graphics!

Eyes glazed over in lust, lips parted, skin warm with desire — both of you. 

You and Joel rest your backs against the headboard of his bed, gazes unbroken, staring at your laptop screen. 

Porn. 

Anal. Amateur. Bondage. Free Use. Hardcore. Softcore. You’re watching the A-Z catalog with your partner. Was this a kink? Because trying to sit next to Joel while watching porn, trying not to get worked up, felt like a twisted game. 

Joel knows you’re turned on. You haven’t stopped squirming beside him for at least twenty minutes. It was agonizing at this point to be so wet, so aching for touch, a deep breath of air nowhere in sight. And it was your stupid idea. 

If you were going to film porn, it was only logical that you see what’s out there and get a sense of what you’d be open to filming with Joel. What was your comfort level? Would you start out by appealing to the amateur audience with limited cuts and genuine passion? Or would you like it more if Joel had all the control, playing into his role of being your dom, and ordered you around like his little cock slut? 

All these videos had you questioning which category you fit in. Even worse, these videos, which were meant to be for research, had turned you on to the point of no return. 

You can feel him looking at you out of the corner of your eye. You’d have to be blind not to notice how hard he’s become in his sweatpants. It’s almost thrilling at this point to see who breaks first. 

Your body shudders as Joel moves to change the video to the next one. Christ, help me. He chooses something from the exhibition category, and you can feel your stomach twisting with desire. 

“You doin’ alright?” His gravelly voice rumbles from beside you, a weak mhmm leaving your lips in response. Your eyes trace over the dark swirls of ink that curve around his forearm and flourish into a larger design on his bicep. You remember the day you asked if it hurt—if the needle pressing into flesh left behind more than just beauty. He didn’t answer; he just shot you a sly smirk, the kind that left you wondering if the pain was part of the allure. 

Joel reaches over, his firm hand squeezing your trembling thigh. It feels like a force of nature, the way you gush harder at the physical contact. You swallow the lump in your throat as you feel his hand move to the waistband of your sweats. 

You don’t move, don’t breathe. Both of your gazes are fixed on the laptop screen, not shifting even when his fingers curl inside your wet panties. He parts your pussy lips, feeling her warmth and arousal soak his fingers. A shaky breath leaves you as one of his fingers slowly circles your swollen clit. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly, your forehead resting against his tattooed bicep. 

“I know,” is all he has to say. 

His fingers dip lower, swirling the tips around your desperate hole before finally sinking in. 

You stare at the video, but it’s like white noise at this point. Neither of you pays attention to the screen, but the blood rushing to your ears forces you to catch every moan and grunt from the partners in the video. 

“Jesus,” you can’t help but pant out. “Please,” you weakly beg. 

All Joel does is tut darkly. “Jesus ain’t here to save this wet pussy, angel, I am. So you better start beggin’ me.” 

As Joel starts to slowly finger your pussy, you realize it’s less about needing to orgasm and more about the process of feeling satisfied together. 

With your head resting on Joel’s arm, you press soft kisses against his tan skin as your hand reaches past the waistband of his grey sweatpants. 

Your touch is electric. You watch as Joel sits up straight beside you once you start slowly stroking his already hard cock–he’s heavy in your hand, your gentle fingertips able to feel all the prominent veins of his shaft. 

Joel’s low groan fills the room, and you know he’s struggling to keep himself from ripping your panties down your legs and getting his fill of you. 

But that’s not the game you two are playing. 

Your hot breath fans across his skin as he crooks his fingers to just the right spot within your cunt, the feeling unexpected as he stretches your sweet pussy. The sensation forces your hand to squeeze Joel a little harder, a distinct growl of both pain and pleasure fueling his ministrations. Once again, you’re reminded that pleasure protects you like a shield, and pain is the only thing that can penetrate it. Pain doesn’t just hurt Joel. It transforms him.

“I wanna bend you over like that,” he admits, his tongue playing with his lip piercing out of habit. Your hazy eyes slowly flick from Joel to your laptop. The video has changed again. The man in the video currently has a housemaid bent over the kitchen counter, doing whatever he pleases to her, while his wife sits in the dining room simply flipping through her newspaper and drinking her coffee. 

You’re not as good at this as Joel is; you can barely speak as he pleasures you. “W-We’d get caught,” you breathe out, your hips grinding against his fingers as his thumb starts to work over your pearl. 

Joel hums darkly, shifting a third finger into your entrance. It’s a burning stretch, one that forces out a low whine from deep in your throat. Your touch all but abandons Joel, his jaw tightening as you remove your hand from his swollen cock. 

You stare deep into his dark eyes as you lick a slow stripe up your palm, excess saliva trailing down your hand before you return it to his aching member. 

“Fuck,” he pants, his head falling back to rest on the headboard with a hard thud. He doesn’t fucking care. The pleasure outweighs the pain. 

“Come here, baby,” Joel instructs as his fingers exit your warmth. 

You whine like a brat but follow his instructions. He pulls you onto your knees, moving your upper half over his lap and shoving his sweatpants down so his cock is finally free. 

“Use that pretty mouth of yours. Always so perfect for me,” he coos. “Now go slow.” 

His words have you mewling in pleasure, resting your head on his lap as you suckle his tip into your warm mouth. It’s teasing, but you want to go slow, to do what he told you to. You want him to last. 

He pulls your sweats and panties down, your warm pussy and the globes of your ass shocked by the cool air hitting your skin. You let out a needy whimper–he never fails to pleasure you, even while chasing his own release. Arching your back, you put yourself on display for him.

“Keep watchin’ the screen. Good girl,” Joel mutters as he slowly gathers your hair in one fist, lazily dragging your head up and down his cock. He fills your mouth, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. Your eyes grow teary, your body flinching as you choke down his length in a desperate attempt to taste his salty finish. Swallowing down as much of him as you can, you bury your nose against the coarse dark hair at the base of his shaft, gulping around his length. Desire ultimately outweighs Joel’s orders for you to go slow, and you begin to suck his cock at your own more eager pace. His grunts of pleasure fill your ears, the grip on your hair only tightening, whatever restraint he has left quickly deserting him. 

Joel is a man whose sexual pleasure derives from control—a fragile dominance that feeds his pleasure. But that control is unraveling, slipping through his gasp faster than he can regain himself. 

“Hey,” he grumbles, yanking you off his shaft by your hair. He slips out of your hungry mouth–you still try to get him back into the safety of your warmth as he reprimands you. A spank to your aching pussy with his heavy hand sends a shockwave of throbbing need across your body, jolting you to life as you let out a whine for him. “I said slow. It’ll feel better the longer you wait, I promise. For both of us.” 

You have to trust him. You know he knows best. 

Swallowing down thick spit, you nod against his grip. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, daddy.” 

That goddamn name. It pulls something from deep inside of Joel, a monster in hibernation that’s hungry for something to cross its path and wake it up. 

And you just did. 

“Good girl.” The grip he has on your hair tightens, and you’re back to stuffing his cock down your tight throat. 

You follow his instructions. The speed is slow, as promised, but every touch feels exhilarating. Your senses are on overdrive. The tingling in your scalp, the feeling of his two thick tattooed fingers plugging your cunt, his thumb circling your already charged clit–it was all so desperate to unfurl. 

You can feel Joel pulsing inside your mouth, ready to gush like a volcano on the verge of eruption. You trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue, his precum adding a layer of tanginess to your tastebuds. 

You weakly moan against him, trying to force out as much excess saliva as you can. It drips down all his inches and coats the hair on his balls. Your arousal leaks down his fingers. The woman in the video lets out strangled moans from the kitchen counter, and finally, the man’s wife takes notice of the two fucking on the counter. She acts shocked, catching them both in the act. 

Joel wins. 

You cry out against his cock and tighten the suction you have on his shaft, slurping and letting out lewd sounds as you quicken the pace of your mouth. You ignore the pain in your jaw and neck, eager to taste his salty release. Joel must agree that the game is up because his hand no longer guides you–he simply pumps his fingers faster inside your desperate cunt. Your hips drive back against his hand, the heel of his palm adding extra friction to your clit. 

“Goddam, you wanna choke on it that bad? Fill your mouth up, wishing it was your pussy? Listen to this good little pussy purr,” Joel moans out as he massages the spongy walls within your cunt, and you can already feel your stomach begin to spasm. 

You gluck gluck gluck around his dick, mouth filled with so much of him that it makes you light-headed with lust. He rips you away from his cock, but only for a moment, a rush of air filling your lungs as he lays your head on top of his thigh. Your eyes are wild and lost, desperate for one thing and one thing only. 

“Tell me,” Joel demands, the veins in his neck pulsing as the crease between his eyebrows deepens. “Tell me what you are, what you want.” 

You whine something pathetic as Joel’s fingers only quicken inside your cunt. “Fuck!” you cry out, your entire body shuddering over his lap as you keep stroking his sticky cock with your hand. 

He makes you admit your thoughts, your sexual desires, and everything you're thinking out in the open. It forces you to be vulnerable with your sexuality–something that doesn’t come easy for you, but Joel willingly helps you navigate. 

If you want to finish, you need to spill your secrets and fantasies. 

It surges like a headrush, electric along your spine and needy for him as you find your words. 

“I-I’m such a fucking slut for your cum, Joel, please baby, I wanna taste you so bad,” you stutter and slur as Joel hums approvingly. His thumb wipes away a stray tear, something comforting and warm in the way he praises you for trying. You feel your orgasm working its way up through your bones, through the heat in your stomach, until it slips down your spine. “I-I wanna feel it down my throat, I want it to be my last meal, I- fuck, I feel so fucking dumb with your cock in my mouth. I worship him.”

Joel’s hanging onto every word, his chest pumping with the added fuel to his ego. His jaw clenches tighter and tighter, teeth gritting as he groans your name at the praise.

“Christ,” he mutters, enamored by your words and how pretty you look with his precum and your saliva glistening on your lips. “Such a good girl for me, so fuckin’ perfect.” 

Something different pools at the base of your stomach, something you don’t fully understand, but it’s familiar. You whimper in embarrassment because it almost feels like you need to pee, but you don’t, your thighs getting splashed by something more than an orgasm, and Joel really fucking likes it.

“Oh god, d-did I-”

“Yeah, bunny, you fuckin’ squirted for me,” Joel growls as he drags you back over him. 

You’re slurping at his cock, and it doesn’t take long for you to both reach the orgasm you’ve been holding out on while watching this damn porn. 

Glistening tears flow down your cheeks, your brain dumb with pleasure as the euphoria finally floods the tight clench in your stomach. Your release pools down Joel’s fingers, his own more desperate and needy as he shoots white-hot spurts down your throat. You moan against his shaft and roll your head from side to side, nose buried in the thick hair of his happy trail as you swallow around his cock like he taught you. 

Joel groans out in pleasure, your tongue still lazily lapping around his shaft. “So fuckin’ good, that was so hot, baby. Jesus Christ.” 

He strokes your hair, and you both slow to nothing, feeling like you’ve run a marathon. His fingers stay buried inside your wasted cunt, your wet mouth weakly panting against his warm thigh. Joel reaches forward and closes the laptop. 

“Did you… did you see any positions you liked?” 

You don’t respond right away. You know he’s talking to you, but it takes a few moments for it to register. 

“I think… I’ve got a few ideas for our debut.” 

Joel chuckles tiredly, laying his head back against the headboard once more.

“We’re really doin’ this? We’re gonna make porn?”

You sigh weakly and find the strength to sit up, facing the weathered look Joel is sporting. You give him an innocent smile as you wipe your chin with your forearm. “That’s right, daddy.” 

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[nachojaehyun]

love galore

pairing. ex boyfriend seungcheol + afab reader

summary. when you meet your ex at a charity event, you like to imagine that the universe just wants to kill you. luckily, the mysterious forces of nature have other plans.

w.c 0.9k

warnings. porn with very little plot, car sex, backseat shenanigans, riding, minor tit play, BIG DICK CHEOL!!!! steamy sex, skin slapping, petnames: hers baby, slut his cheol, cheollie — 18+ MINORS DNI!

a/n. exam szn testing my fucking patience. maybe i’m back. maybe i’m not. based off of the song love galore by sza but not rlly 🫶 also wtf we are at 800 followers?? thank you???!!!! also, i surived nnn ;)

this was supposed to be a relaxed evening for you, visiting the charity event in Gwangju just to look at some cute animals and donating for a good cause.

it was supposed to be a few hours that you didn’t spend moping about in your apartment after breaking up with someone who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.

well, the word ‘suppose’ doesn’t even cross your mind at the moment.

how could it, when his hands grab at your hips, his lips parted in a groan? when his mouth says your name so beautifully?

you’d not noticed seungcheol at first. not until you were on your knees stroking a moody ginger cat when suddenly someone’s fingers brushed against your own.

at first glance, you wanted to cuss him out. scream, yell, clock him in the jaw, commit arson– every crime under the sun.

but all you could do was helplessly moan like a desperate whore.

seungcheol hastily led you to his car, mouth melding with yours, opening the back door and practically throwing you inside. he tasted like mint and a hint of coffee. just the taste you liked.

nothing about the moment is soft. all that can be heard is his groans, your soft breaths and the lewd dance of your tongues.

“take your pants off,” seungcheol heaves, sitting upright in the backseat as he tugs you into his lap. one of his hands pushes his hair back, eyes dark as he scrutinizes you.

you follow his orders without batting an eye, unbuttoning your jeans with much difficulty in the cramped space and sliding them off.

seungcheol yanks your tank top down, spitting on your nipple as he spares it a lick. “missed you,” he mumbled, teething on your peak as if you hadn’t lost all train of thought the second his lips had met yours.

“missed you, missed these gorgeous tits, and of course, this needy pussy,” his fingers slide between your legs, prodding at your folds. “she’s still mine, right? or did you find someone else?”

you shake your head with a whine when his fingers enter you, feeling your tight walls contract around him. with the pad of his thumb on your engorged clit, seungcheol thrusts his fingers in, a pace that has your mind fogging.

“c-cheollie,” you hiccup, but he shushes you with a bite on your left nipple. “shush baby, just enjoy it,” his words are hoarse, as his tongue lavs over and over your perky mounds.

you can feel the impending telltale of your orgasm the second his fingers curl and they hit that spot inside of you. seungcheol feels a gush of arousal from you, not letting you cum, but just about there to silently remove his fingers and suck them into his mouth.

his cock replaces his fingers, and you just about lose the air from your lungs. no matter how many times you’ve had sex with him, it always feels like the first.

the fat tip pushes past your folds, slowly sinking you down on him. he hisses at the contact. “still so tight f’me... you’ve been a good girl, haven’t you? didn’t let anyone touch what’s mine, hm?”

he knows he’s blabbering, but when he notices the tears spring up to your eyes, seungcheol’s fingers, slightly wet from his saliva wipe them away.

“it’s okay, baby. i love you. i still do.”

you lean into his touch, relishing in the soft moment inside the steamy car when the bastard ruins it.

seungcheol bottoms out inside you, eliciting a moan that sounds so pornographic, you wonder why you’ve not switched careers yet.

the one thrust is enough for you to grab onto his shoulders, lips crashing against his with the power of a sea storm as you begin to ride him.

your tongue swirls with his, squelching noises coming from down below as he meets your thrusts halfway, hands planted on your hips. he sets the pace, your ass bouncing on his thighs, a noise that he has thoroughly yearned for.

“such a good little slut for me,” he whispers against your lips as you lean back, tits bouncing in his face as your thighs start to ache.

but you couldn’t care. not now anyway.

“so big inside me cheol... filling me up all the way,” you moan, eyes rolling as your lower stomach tightens slightly.

the stretch of his cock is too much, splitting your pussy into two in the best way possible. you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, twitching inside you as you praise his size. god, the man’s ego was almost as huge as his dick.

“gonna make me cum like that, baby,” seungcheol whispers, one of his hands leaving your hips to come up and squeeze your mounds. “want me to pull out?” he asks, flicking your nipple with a finger.

“fuck– hah! yes, pull out, pull out!”

with one last thrust and impeccable timing, you feel yourself cum, as he pulls out and releases all over your stomach. the white paints your skin and manages to land a few specks on your tank top.

seungcheol’s breathing is unsteady, as is yours. the sex induced fog seems to fade slightly, as you come down from the incredible high you’ve just experienced.

“stop looking like you regret this, y/n. i know you wanna come back to my place,” seungcheol pushes a strand of damp hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the sweaty skin of your jaw.

the moment is soft, a rare gem among the monstrous haze that the demon of lust had bestowed upon the two of you.

“what do you think, baby? wanna fuck on the couch like usual?”

oh, how you could you refuse that offer?

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[parfaitblogs]

daylight ❀ s. reid x reader

in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um… inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights ago🫂 reminder that pretty girls cry when they’re confronting somebody!!

Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things. 

A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it — you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers. 

He was also observant enough to know something was wrong. 

He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves. 

And he knew that.

You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent. 

"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two. 

"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected. 

Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?" 

"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."

He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."

Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."

"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."

"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.

He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion. 

"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth. 

"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."

You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead. 

"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was. 

"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."

"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more." 

"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."

You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't — just exhaustion — and that made you feel a little better.

"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"

On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets. 

"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek. 

"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb. 

"Yeah but—but now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched — though not in humour, you noted — as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears. 

"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."

"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head. 

"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"

"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "I—I just feel kind of sil—silly."

You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown. 

"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."

"I don't know..."

"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."

"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips. 

"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."

A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."

"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement — you believed him a little.

His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones. 

"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.

"For what?"

"Crying."

"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged. 

"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up. 

"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own. 

"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."

He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."

"I know things," you grinned. 

"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."

"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."

"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.

"You really want to know?" 

You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it. 

And he told you about the case he had been away on — it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all — and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.

And it dried your tears up.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[tjwritesfanfics]

I’m not jealous (Aaron Hotchner)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aaron was going to show you how not jealous he is.

Rating: Mature 18+ only

Warnings: Jealous Aaron (though he is adamant he isn't), Reader taking advantage of a sweet guy, manhandling, Dom!Aaron, condescending, being called good girl (which made me MELT), Aaron spanks her once, fingering, overstimulation, Aaron is a sweet aftercare guy

Words: 2.9k

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

Jealousy can be very ugly.

It can also be very hot. And on Aaron Hotchner it was sexy as hell. The way his jaw clenched, his eyes darken, and the air around him just got thick with tension you knew about, but the line was never crossed.

You had feelings for Aaron, everyone in the BAU knew it, he knew it, and he still had yet to decide what, and if, he felt for you.

You always tried to push him, loving the way he seemed so close to losing it only to watch him attempt to reel himself in. Once you had danced with a guy at the bar after a long case and your eyes never left Aaron. No matter how many times the guy dipped his head to kiss (more like slobbered with how drunk he was) your neck, you continued to stare at him, surprised that the glass he was holding didn’t break with the force of his grip, his knuckles already white.

And when you decided you were done with your dance partner, you attempted to leave only to have him get aggressive. You knew you could fit him off if need be, but it was much more satisfying when Aaron strode over and introduced him to that amazing right hook of his.

It was even better when he took you roughly by the waist and led you out of the bar.

In his car, you tried to push a little more, wanting him to finally admit something to you.

“God,” You sigh and brush your hand down his arm, admiring the way they flex under your touch, “You are so hot when you are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“There is no need to deny the chemistry between us, Aaron. We aren’t on the clock so you aren’t my Unit Chief, and I am not your underling, though I would so love to be under you.” You purr, warmth flooding your as his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, your eyes following the motion longingly.

It would be easier if he would just give in to what was going on between the two of you.

But sadly, that was where the night ended for you.

Aaron took you back to your apartment, walked you up (like the gentleman he was), and left you there all alone.

Over the next few months you tried again and again to prove there was something between you, not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Pulling him out of his office for lunch or bringing it to him, just to make sure he would eat. Putting sticky notes on his monitor or his desk with little encouragements and reminders since you knew he could get too far into his own head and needed some help out.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t do things for you.

Bringing you coffee, made just to your liking, at the beginning of the shift or when you run low on your own coffee. He always seemed to know when you needed your fix. He also would save you a seat on the plane, the one next to the window because he knows you like to look out at the clouds during long flights.

“When we land, Y/n, Reid and I will go to the police station to set up. Morgan, you and Emily check out the crime scene.”

Aaron dished out the rest of the orders as the plane started to descend. Honestly after he told you where you were going to be, which of course was with him because he always seemed to think he needed to keep an eye on you, something you couldn’t decide if was out of how similar your skill sets are or because he has a constant need to be near you, you stopped listening.

You were certain that it was both. You knew Aaron wouldn’t sacrifice the case or the people involved just for a romantic feeling towards you.

Once you landed and got to the police station, everything seemed to flash by in a whirlwind.

You barely had any time to focus on anything other than catching the asshole that was killing women.

“You seem to be running into the ground, Agent.”

Officer Danny Grant was such a little cutie and seemed to immediately take a liking to you.

“I’ll rest when we catch this guy.” You reach for your cup of awful cop coffee, even though it was the only thing keeping you going at the moment, but frowned when you found the cup empty.

Cursing, you turn away from the board to get more.

“Here.” Grant offered you another cup, his face a little flushed and a smile on his lips. “I noticed you were low. I don’t know how you take it so I just made it black. If you need any creamer or sugar I can get it for you.”

“Thanks, Grant.” You smiled and took the cup. The warmth of it not only warming your hands, but your heart a little as well. Usually Aaron would bring you coffee, but this case seemed to take a toll on him, which you remind yourself you would have to check on him later. Now that someone else noticed and cared enough to bring you something so small, yet so vital, was sweet.

You take a sip of the black coffee, wishing it was sweeter, but the jolt of bitterness was the wake up you needed.

“I usually like it sweet, but black is fine. It’s just what I need.”

Grant continued to stick to your side, helping with the case whenever he could and bringing you more coffee (this time with a side of sugar). He was actually very helpful and you enjoyed the company of him, conversation and ideas bouncing easily.

Aaron on the other hand didn’t like the attention you were getting from the young, wide eyed officer.

He couldn’t stand the fact that he was distracting you from the case at hand (even though he wasn’t actually), the way you laughed when he said something you deemed funny, but it wasn’t, and the thing he hated the most was the smile you beamed at him when he brought you more coffee.

The smile you usually only gave him. Why were you giving it to this guy? Even when the group went out and you flirted with other men, knowing that it would get a rise out of him (though he would never admit it out loud) you never gave them that kind smile, the one that made your nose scrunch up so adorably.

It would be so easy for Aaron to go over there. He can imagine himself pulling you away from Grant. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you felt pressed against his own body. The amount of nights he had to pull himself away from you, unable to cross that line, the line between boss and subordinate. A line that he’s tiptoed since the first time he saw you.

If only it was that simple to give into you.

A few hours later, you could feel your steam running out and your eyes drooping, no matter how much coffee you drank.

“There hasn’t been any new information.” Aaron’s voice woke you just before your head hit the conference table for the second time that night, “Let’s call it a night and look at this in the morning with fresh eyes.”

“No no,” you whine, failing to lift your eyelids, “I can keep going.”

“Agent Hotchner is right. Come on, let's get you to the hotel.”

Just as Grant reached for you, Aaron was quick to his feet, striding over to you with only a few steps and grabbing your shoulder before Grant could. “I have her.” Aaron lifted you up, one hand resting under both of your legs and the other on your back, smirking at Grant as you wrap your arms around his neck and snuggle into him.

The look of shock on the officer’s face was sickeningly satisfying.

Never would Aaron be this bold, especially in front of others, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn't just let this man touch you. Not after spending all day watching his poor attempts at flirting.

You could, and probably would, be upset with him tomorrow.

Aaron lifted his chin, daring others to say anything as he made his way through the precinct with you tucked in his arms. Once you were outside, you push your face into his neck subconsciously, inhaling his scent and sending a shiver through him, thankful that at least some part of you waited until you were out of sight to get clingy with him.

“You are,” You yawn, lips brushing against his skin,”so hot when you are jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

All you did was hum in response as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

For the rest of the case you stuck to Grant every chance you got, barely paying Aaron any attention.

He knew you were doing it on purpose. You knew he knew that you knew you were doing it on purpose.

Thankfully the team was able to wrap up the case and it was only one night left before you left.

No more case. No more reason to stay in California. No more Grant.

Aaron wonders if he should be as happy as he was as he pressed the button for your floor on the elevator. He doesn’t have much time to think about it when a minute later the elevator door opens and he sees Grant standing at your door, leaning against the open door with you.

“So now that the case is over, do you want to get dinner before you leave? I’m sure hotel food isn’t as good as a good burger at this little dive I know down the street.”

You giggle at his forwardness. While you do love and want Aaron, turning down a free meal from a cute man before you never see him again couldn’t hurt, right?

“You know a little dive? Is it a ‘California delicacy?’”

Grant leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh absolutely.”

Rage and jealousy flows through Aaron, his jaw and fists clenched. His legs carried him towards you before his brain could catch up.

No more games.

In a flash, Aaron grabbed Grant by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and away from you.

“A Aaron?!” You squeak as the man pushes you into your hotel room, closing and locking the door behind you.

His hands grab your wrists, tugging and trapping them above your head, the air leaving you completely as his lips crash against yours.

The months and months of tension finally exploded within you, arching your hips to meet him, gasping when he grips your wrists tighter in warning.

“You really can’t resist flirting can you?” Aaron’s voice may have been calm, almost bored, but his eyes betrayed the fire, the anger he held. “You just love to rile me up.”

“I thought,” you moan when he moves to kiss your neck, “you weren’t jealous.”

His laugh is condescending, one of his hands snaking down to your side while the other held tight. This was the Aaron Hotchner you wanted, the one you knew he could be if you just pushed right, but now that he was here you didn’t quite know how to handle him.

Not that you would let him know. Not as your body shivers when he rests his hand on your waist, nails digging through the material of your jeans.

“You and I both know I am not. Why be jealous when your body is so truthful with me? It tells me everything,” His smirk widens as he cupped your cunt and you whine, subconsciously grinding against his hand, seeking the dull pleasure you could get through the two layers of fabric separating you, “I need to know. It is an open book for me.”

You want to cry when Aaron withdraws from you, only proving his point further. God you want him. More than absolutely anything.

“Now be a good girl and get on the bed. I want you naked and on all fours by the time I get out of the bathroom.”

“T The bathr…” Your words die on your lips when Aaron gives you a pointed stare, one that has you clenching around nothing, before he walks away from you and into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, almost as if daring you to disobey him.

As much as you wanted to, just to see what he would do to you, you decided that would be for a different time. Quickly shedding your top and jeans, you obey like the good girl you want to be for him.

You wait for what feels like an eternity, but was probably only five minutes before you could hear Aaron’s footsteps coming out of the bathroom. Instinct has you turning your head to look at him, “Don’t you fucking move.” but his harsh voice has you snapping it back and a shiver running down your spine.

Or was that his fingers that danced along your back? Honestly you didn’t know, but you didn;t have time to ponder it before he splayed his open palm across one of your ass cheeks, drawing back and coming down with a swift smack.

You moan, the sudden motion causing you to fall forward, your arms giving out.

“Just a little taste of what happens when you play with me.” Aaron rubbed the spot where you were sure was going to be slightly red from the force. “But I won’t give you more since you seemed to follow my orders like such a good girl.”

A whine escapes you at his words. You wanted to hear them over and over. To be praised by him over and over. His fingers ghost from your ass straight to your center, pressing and feeling, but never fully sinking into you.

“Oh fuck,” You squirm under his carful attention, “Please. Please Aaron!”

“Please what? How will I know what you want without words?”

You cry as the tip of his finger comes dangerously close to your clit only for him to pull it away just as quickly. You knew what he was doing. He was teasing you just like you had teased him, almost like a form of sick payback, and though he did have the upper hand, you felt like you had already won.

You had him in bed.

“Please touch me, Aaron. I need your hands on me, in me, anything.”

“There we go.” 

The reward for your confession was sweet. His fingers circled your clit, applying the right amount of pressure that had you moaning loudly. Aaron continued to work you, leaving your brain in a haze of pleasure which only intensified when he finally moved to sink one finger into your core.

“Fuck..” Aaron curses, his finger setting a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you, admiring the embarrassingly wet noises your cunt makes. “You are so wet.”

You moan when he slides a second finger in, then a third, the stretch burning oh so deliciously.

He’s got you at his mercy, hips rocking back to meet his thrusts, drool pooling on the hotel sheets below you. “Aaron!” You cry, the coil in your gut pushing and pushing you closer to the edge, threatening to break and toss you into a sweet release.

“Let go.”

With his permission, and his fingers brushing that sweet spot that made you see stars, you do.

You scream as your orgasm crashes into you. If the outside could hear you, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Aaron, his name the only thing occupying your mind and the only thing spilling out of your mouth as if it was the only name you knew.

And right now it was.

Aaron continued to thrust his fingers into you, helping you through your orgasm until you tried to pull away from him, but his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you back and onto his fingers.

“Aaron!” You squirmed. It was too much, but you didn’t want him to stop as his fingers expertly stroked and thrust, bringing you to a second orgasm in record time. Tears prick your eyes, your body shaking, feeling weightless and not here.

You didn’t even notice when Aaron carefully turned you on your back, brushing your hair back from your face and kissing your forehead. He treated you like procaline, peppering kisses all over your face until you came back to him. “There’s my girl.”

His girl. The thought had you smiling like a lovesick fool, which was appropriate because you were. No longer were the steel eyes and lustful gaze, but soft brown eyes filled with an adoration you weren’t used to seeing. You swallow and reach for him. Aaron wrapped you in his arms and held you close.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Now what? Was he going to continue? Fuck you? Or, and something you hoped he wouldn’t do, leave you.

Aaron, the ever brilliant profiler he was, could see the war going on in your head before you could speak. He leaned down to kiss you, hand gently rubbing shapes on your upper thigh.

“Don’t worry. I will be right here for more when you wake.”

You feel a little guilty about not returning the favor, but Aaron quickly shuts that down. He grabs the hotel comfort and pulls it up, covering the two of you, tucking you into his chest. Your eyes feel heavy from the force of cumming twice (and Aaron’s skilled fingers) that you couldn’t seem to argue, eyes closing as sleep takes over.

You definitely would make him feel good when you wake up.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[waywardxrhea]

Casual - Spencer Reid

for the CM friends with benefits challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins <3

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

You thought that your sexcapades with Spencer Reid had meant more to him like they did to you, but after a couple of run ins with his BAU teammates you learn that he really meant 'no attachments.'

word count: just over 5k

content: smut (this is sinful whoops) MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY: oral (fem receiving), public (ish) sexual acts, unprotected PIV, established FWB situation, drinking (just to the point of being tipsy, consent is still given), language, anxiety, angst.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

now playing: casual by chappell roan

“You finally made it!” your friend Maddie exclaimed gleefully as you walked into the latest bar that she had decided your small group of friends should try out that evening. 

Maddie’s girlfriend Celeste elbowed you gently in the ribs before teasingly asking, “Were you hooking up with Mr. FBI agent again?”

“That’d be, what? The fourth time this month?” Adrianna asked, a slight slur already in her words. She threw an arm around your shoulders and winked exaggeratedly before adding, “And it’s only the fifteenth! Get it girl!” 

“Ha ha, very funny, let’s all gang up on the girl with the best sex life here,” you joked, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the pang of hurt that shot through your gut at the comments. You grabbed a drink menu off the bar’s counter before heading back to your group’s claimed table for the evening, telling your friends, “I actually picked up an extra shift which is why I’m late and Doctor FBI agent is out of state on a case.”

“Awe, she knows when he’s out on a case, how sweet!” Celeste teased before winking and taking a sip of her brightly colored drink. 

“You three are impossible!” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stood up from your spot once more to escape the conversation and order your drink at the bar - a raspberry frozen margarita with sugar rim. Luckily when you got back to the table with your drink, the conversation had turned to Maddie discussing the latest drama at her job, so you sat back and relaxed as you sipped on your first drink of the night. 

“I can’t believe we finished all that paperwork in time to actually go out tonight,” Derek Morgan said as he stretched his arms, stepping out of his car and into the crisp evening air as he once more met up with the other BAU members at a bar the group gravitated toward when they had time to celebrate wins on cases. 

“Realistically it would have been nearly impossible for us to not get our work done in a timely manner. We got back from the case at ten AM and were all well rested after the flight, so our brains were all in ideal condition to finish the paperwork on time, even accounting for some delays in productivity due to jet lag,” Spencer Reid rambled off as they all walked into the bar, offering a small smile as some of his teammates rolled their eyes playfully in response. 

“Well all I know is that I’m getting a bottle of wine to celebrate wrapping that case,” Emily Prentiss commented as she dug through her purse. 

“What about you, pretty boy? Planning on drinking tonight?” Derek asked as he gently shoulder checked the younger man. 

“Just water,” Spencer replied. “Did you know that during long plane rides you can easily get dehydrated? The humidity within the cabin is usually around ten to twenty percent which is lower than the usual thirty to sixty percent that our bodies are used to. The lower level of humidity causes water to be drawn out of the body and the thirst reflex is diminished so you drink less water while at the same time losing more. I’m surprised that as a team we aren’t more dehydrated overall.”

The conversation was dropped as the team got their drinks ordered and then settled into a round booth at the back of the bar. As Spencer took a sip from his water, his eyes scanned the bar’s patrons to see if there were any people they may have to watch out for as the night goes on and more drinks are consumed. The water he was sipping on suddenly went down the wrong pipe though as he spotted a familiar face at the table adjacent to the team’s. It was you hanging out with a few friends, seeming to have not noticed his arrival. He wasn’t too surprised about that though because judging by the glasses on the table you were at least one and a half margaritas in and you already weren’t the most observant person when you were distracted anyway. 

“Everything okay, Spence?” JJ asked while she patted Spencer’s back. 

Derek’s eyes tracked where Spencer’s had landed and he smirked as he announced to the table, “Pretty boy just saw the girl he bangs on his couch.” 

There was a quiet cacophony of responses to Derek’s comment the moment it fell from his lips. “Remind me to not sit on your couch ever again,” Emily Prentiss commented with a quiet laugh. “Ooh Spence, how serious is this thing?” JJ asked in a sly tone. “I’m glad you found someone, kid,” David Rossi said with a nod and a toast of his glass. “As long as it isn’t going to affect you at work,” their unit chief Aaron Hotchner commented sternly. “Spencer’s dating someone? Why did Derek know this and I didn’t?” Penelope Garcia asked with wide eyes. 

Spencer didn’t respond immediately, suddenly overwhelmed by the barrage of comments, so Derek took a moment to dig the hole even deeper by adding, “He made me swear not to tell baby girl.” He got a mischievous look on his face as he continued, “But one time when I was at his place getting his go bag while he was busy in the shooting range, I found a bra in his dresser. It took some time but I finally got an answer out of him and it turns out this has been going on for a few months now.”

“Spencer Reid!” Penelope scolded while leaning over and playfully swatting at his hand. “How could you not tell me? You know I would have run a background check on her to make sure everything checked out!”

“Everyone slow down!” Spencer said, putting his hands up which caused the noise at the table to die down. “She quite literally ran into me at a coffee shop a few months back but I didn’t tell anyone because, well…we aren’t together. It’s just a casual thing.”

“Just casual? Is she okay with that?” JJ asked, quirking an eyebrow up in question. 

“She hasn’t said anything against it,” Spencer replied. He glanced over at you laughing with your friends one more time before shaking his head and asking, “Can we change the subject?”

“Whatever you want, player,” Derek said with a chuckle before the conversation moved on to whatever the latest sports news was, prompted by Derek’s reaction to something happening on one of the many TVs hanging around the room. 

Later that night after you had your fair share of appetizers and drinks, your friends were all starting to head home for the evening. “Thank you for coming, we need to do this again soon!” Celeste told you with a fake stern look before she giggled and leaned over into Maddie’s side. 

“We do!” you agreed as you grabbed your glass to finish off the last bit of your drink. “Get home safe!”

“You too!” Maddie said as she attempted to steady Celeste. “You’re calling a cab right?”

“Of course,” you told her with a nod, raising your glass in a toast as the pair headed off toward the door, following Adrianna outside. 

After finishing off your drink, you stood up, trying to balance as well as you could as you grabbed your clutch off of the table and went to the bar to pay off your tab. You weren’t completely drunk, but you were definitely tipsy and you were naturally clumsy, so nights like this were always an interesting time, especially when you were in heels. When you got to the bar to pay though, you were surprised to be informed that your tab was already paid for. “Who did that?” you asked the bartender, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Adrianna was just about finished with but still in law school and Celeste was a teacher so you could never ask them to pay for your drinks. Maddie was a paralegal and made a good salary but still, you made enough on your own to pay for your drinks, so who…? 

Your question was answered though when you felt a familiar pair of hands glide along your waist and land on your hips. You turned your head the slightest bit and an immediate heat flooded your body as you whispered, “Spencer… Hi. I thought I heard your voice earlier. When did you get back?” Your emotions were conflicted at his sudden appearance because you had overheard him talking with his group of friends earlier and it had honestly upset you, but now that he was practically wrapped around you, your mind flooded with memories of his hands on your body in the most intimate way…

“Just got back this morning. The team met up here to celebrate and I was surprised to see you here,” he replied. His voice lowered and his lips grazed the shell of your ear as he mumbled, “You look irresistible in that dress by the way.”

“I…Thank you,” you breathed, feeling your heart rate increase as his hands massaged your hips. “And thanks for paying for my drinks, you didn’t have to…”

“But I wanted to,” he told you, gently nipping at your ear lobe which made your cunt clench around nothing in desperation for more of his touch. Truth be told, it had been a week since you and Spencer last hooked up and you hated to admit that you had gotten dependent on his touch lately. 

Your impure thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle piercing the air, and your head snapped in the direction it came from, to see two people you recognized from pictures in Spencer’s apartment. They must be from the BAU as well. You made eye contact with the perky looking blonde woman and offered a smile as the man beside her asked, “Pretty boy, why don’t you introduce us to your friend here?” 

“Oh, I-I thought everyone had left,” Spencer said, instantly making space between the two of you. You looked at Spencer’s panicked expression that quickly changed into something more neutral as he introduced you by name and then said to you, “These are two other members of the BAU. Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia.”

“It’s nice to meet you two,” you told them, a smile on your face as you raised your hand in greeting. “Penelope, you’re the tech girl right?” you asked after a few moments of going through your memories of what little Spencer had told you about his job. 

“That’s me! Resident tech genius because boy genius here refuses to get to know technology!” she replied chipperly. 

“Oh trust me, I know,” you said with a giggle, leaning into Spencer’s side as you remembered the last time you two had gotten lonely at the odd hours of night and wanted to video chat each other to get off. Spencer struggled to get the video call to work and it had ended up being muted for a few minutes before you finally got him to unmute himself so you could hear everything his surprisingly filthy mouth had to say to you. 

“Well it’s nice to finally meet the girl who is getting pretty boy out of his shell,” Derek said, flashing you an award winning smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m glad you all are keeping him safe out there in the field,” you replied. 

“All in a day’s work,” Derek said with a chuckle. He checked his watch before exaggeratedly yawning and telling Penelope, “Well baby girl, I think we should get going. Don’t want to hold these two up any longer than we already have. You two have a good one.”

“Thanks Derek,” Spencer mumbled as he watched the pair walk off and out the door. You watched as Spencer’s eyes did another sweep of the bar before his attention was back on you, turning you toward him and pulling you into his front, his hands snaking their way around to your ass and giving a light squeeze as he returned to kissing your ear and neck. 

Your hopeful thoughts from the conversation with Derek and Penelope were instantly abandoned and replaced instead by flashes of your intimate moments with Spencer over the last few months. Your hands drifted upward with one resting on his shoulder and the other lacing into his cropped hair as you let out a quiet moan in Spencer’s ear before asking, “Take me home?”

“God yes,” Spencer whispered, pulling away and turning you around so you were in front of him. To anyone watching it would look like he was simply helping you keep your balance as the alcohol in your system continued to impair your coordination, but only you knew the real reason for the closeness. So as you walked the block to the parking lot, you occasionally let your ass rub against the growing problem in Spencer’s slacks which earned low groans and a squeeze of your hips as you two made your way to Spencer’s car which was tucked away at the back of the lot away from other cars. 

When you got there, Spencer pinned you against the side of his car and his lips were on yours in an instant. After a few seconds, he pulled away for a moment and between panting breaths he asked, “Is this okay? You’ve been drinking, I didn’t want to-”

“You aren’t taking advantage of me,” you promised before he could complete his sentence. “I only had two margaritas and a shot and a ton of food. If you want to breathalyze me, agent, go ahead, but I promise you I’m all here and I’ve missed your hands on me.” As you said this, you carefully hooked one leg around Spencer’s waist and pulled your hips closer together with a smirk gracing your lips. 

“I trust you,” he whispered before your lips crashed together again. You once more laced one hand into his curls and used the other to pull him closer as your tongues began lapping into each other’s mouth, desperation and pure need guiding your actions. Shocks of pleasure began flowing down to your core and you felt light headed as Spencer rutted his hips into yours, seemingly desperate for any sort of friction. The moment that his hard cock brushed against your cunt you let out another moan that was swallowed by Spencer’s mouth before he was moving one of his hands from the grip he had on your ass.

Within seconds you heard the tell-tale sign of the car doors unlocking and Spencer was opening the door for you to get in. Rather than going over to his side to quickly drive to one of your apartments though, he instead pulled at the levers at the base of the passenger seat and began scooting the seat backward and flat, sending you into a near laying position and dizzying your senses. “Spencer, what-?” you asked as you regained your composure after a few moments. 

“I can’t wait,” was his reply before he began tucking himself into the now more open floorboard and pulling your panties down your legs. 

“What about- What if we’re caught-? Your job-!” you managed to get out in clipped sentences. 

“No cameras, no cars near us, it’s fine,” he replied quickly. “I just need to taste you,” he added, his voice almost dark with desire which had your cunt clenching around nothing again as your own desire overtook your anxiety about getting caught.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders and pulled your hips close to his face before you felt the flat of his tongue on you, going from your entrance to your clit before he stopped there and began focusing on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a sinful noise as one hand gravitated toward his hair to hold him close as he began sucking on your clit, not wanting to let go of the feeling. 

After a few breathtaking moments, Spencer pulled away slightly and mumbled, “You’re so wet, fuck…” The vibrations of his voice on your core made a high pitched cry escape your lips and he chuckled before asking, “You like that?”

“God yes,” you replied breathlessly as your chest heaved as the pleasure began to build already in the pit of your stomach. “I missed you,” you found yourself confessing as your hips bucked up to meet his tongue as he returned to his assault of your dripping cunt. Spencer’s only response was to shift and add two fingers to the mix which caused you to cry out his name as he hooked them skillfully, hitting the spot he knew could make you fall apart within seconds if he got it just right. “Oh fuck, right there- Spencer, I- shit…” 

“Come on baby,” he mumbled against you as his long fingers began stroking his target within you, causing the tight coiling feeling in your abdomen to increase more and more. 

It all became too much when Spencer began kitten licking at your clit at the same time and the coil snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing over your body as your orgasm ripped through you. A loud moan slipped past your lips as your grip on his hair tightened and Spencer pulled his fingers out quickly before beginning to lap at your cunt like a man starved, holding down your erratically bucking hips as you slowly began coming down from your high. Overstimulation took over after a few moments and you gently pushed Spencer’s head away as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Spencer obliged, pulling away and wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking the remnants of you from his fingers as he chuckled. 

You joined in on his laughter after a few seconds and the question that had been on your mind all night slipped past your lips, “Is it casual now?” Knowing it was a loaded question though, you panicked and quickly pulled Spencer up and into a kiss before he could answer. For good measure, you made sure to keep him preoccupied by teasing him as he drove you back to your apartment where he made sure to thoroughly make up for his week away on the case. 

A few weeks had passed and you were out with your girls again to celebrate Adrianna finally graduating law school. It had been a long and arduous journey for her, but she made it! So before she had to buckle down once more to study for the bar exam, the four of you went out to a nice, new Italian restaurant that had opened only a couple of weeks prior. The restaurant had great reviews, and most importantly to Adiranna, an excellent wine list. So the four of you celebrated with delicious pasta, only one glass of wine for you, and began on dessert - a tiramisu that smelled heavenly. 

As the dessert was being brought out by what seemed like half the kitchen staff who were all warmly congratulating Adrianna, your eyes drifted past them when you heard a distinct nickname being called out teasingly from across the restaurant. Pretty boy. You made eye contact with the man in question and like an instinct your heart rate began to increase and heat began to pool down into your core. It was a Pavlovian response at this point, as Spencer had explained to you the first time you brought up the fact that you would get turned on at the mere sight of him, even if it was in no way sexual. You averted your eyes a moment later and bit your lip as you shifted in your seat, thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the tension building in your core. 

“You okay?” Maddie’s voice asked, breaking through the flashes of when Spencer dragged five orgasms out of you that night after the bar. 

“Just a headache, red wine doesn’t really agree with me,” you told in a half-truth. Red wine really wasn’t your forte, but it was what Adrianna wanted so that’s what you had been sipping on slowly throughout the meal. “I think I’m gonna head to the restroom to take a Motrin, I’ll be back. Maybe the lights will be a bit less harsh in there.”

“Maybe so. I’ll make sure to save you some tiramisu,” Maddie said as you stood up and began making your way across the restaurant to where you noticed the restrooms were earlier. You weren’t really going to the restroom to take some medicine or get away from what really wasn’t even that harsh of lighting in the dining area. There was some part of you that hoped that even from across the restaurant Spencer could tell that you needed him and would get the message to meet you in there. 

Of course as you passed the table Spencer was at, it was filled with the rest of the BAU members, most of whose attention was on the man animatedly talking about the wine and pasta selections. You thought you had gone unnoticed until you heard a low wolf whistle before the comment, “Go and get some loving, pretty boy.”

“Shut it!” you heard the distinct voice of Penelope snap as you kept your head down and made your way to your destination. 

Right as your hand reached up to push the restroom door open, you looked back to see if Spencer had followed you like you hoped, and to your body’s joy he did. Glancing at his lips as he wet them with his tongue, you felt the dampness in your underwear growing as your breathing began to pick up its pace along with your heart. “Hey,” you said simply. 

“Did you want to-?” was all Spencer asked before you nodded vigorously which earned you his lips as he gently pushed you into the single person restroom before locking the door. Spencer’s hands were on you in an instant, one diving into the low v-cut of your dress and beginning to massage your breast, thumb flicking over your already hard nipple as you moaned into his mouth. “If I knew you would have been here I may have dressed a bit nicer,” Spencer commented as he moved from kissing your lips to your neck, your hands desperately roaming his frame as he explored yours. 

“You always look amazing,” you told him earnestly as he hiked you up onto the sink’s counter space and pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder so he would have better access to your chest. “Oh, God, Spencer…” you whispered as he took your sensitive bud into his mouth and began sucking. It wasn’t long before he moved on from the nipple to the surrounding skin and started to bite and suck which you desperately hoped would leave a mark. You loved it when he marked you because it made things feel more permanent, even if just for a few days.

Before you knew it, your legs were being nudged apart and Spencer’s fingers were teasing your entrance as he asked, “Are you ready?”

“Please,” you begged. The sound was breathy and high-pitched, but you didn’t care much about how desperate you sounded because you knew the sounds you made drove Spencer crazy. 

“Turn around,” he said in a low voice as he helped you jump off of the counter. You didn’t even get the opportunity to tease Spencer or spread his own arousal over his head before you were being bent over the counter with your panties pushed aside as he quickly shoved into your throbbing core. Your moan was muffled as Spencer’s large hand came around and covered your mouth and he gritted out, “We don’t have long.”

You whimpered into Spencer’s hand as he pounded into you from behind, your exposed breast occasionally grazing against the cold countertop causing the most delicious mix of pleasure to course through your body. He always felt so big from behind and tonight was no exception, but the rate and rhythm that he was going at had the coil in your core building quickly. “Spencer, oh, fuck! I-”

“I’m close too,” was Spencer’s grunted out response as the grip he had on your hip tightened as his thrusts began to get sloppy. You don’t know if it was because of the prospect of getting caught, or what, but after a few more thrusts, Spencer was already losing it, whispering, “Baby, I- Shit, shit, shit! I’m coming, fuck-” 

You felt his hot release filling you up and you let out a moan in response, so close to your own peak, but instead of continuing his ministrations like he normally would, Spencer pulled out and began cleaning himself up. You stood there speechless for a moment, still bent over the counter with your heart racing and chest heaving as you recovered from your almost orgasm. Spencer had never left you hanging like that. Maybe to edge you to try and get your body to do what it still hadn’t managed to, but never to deny you an orgasm. 

Spencer approached you from behind once more and recovered your core with your underwear before beginning to straighten up your dress to help you look presentable. He turned you around and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before chuckling and telling you, “I think you may want to fix your makeup a bit.”

“I-I will,” you quietly agreed with a nod, watching as he ducked his head and left you in the bathroom alone, hot, bothered, and honestly a bit pissed off. You quickly relocked the door and went to the restroom, trying to rid your underwear and body of the traces he left behind with his abrupt finish. After cleaning up, you went to work fixing your makeup as best you could and hoped that with all of the wine in their system your friends wouldn’t notice that it was slightly less perfect than when the night began. 

As you quietly made your way out of the restroom, you froze when you heard Derek’s voice coming from around the corner as he asked, “That love toy of yours treating you well?” 

Your blood ran cold as Spencer responded, “Oh, I- uh- Yeah. She is.”

“My man!” Derek said with a bright laugh before the conversation was prompted to return to non-sexual topics by someone else at the table. 

You felt your shoulders slump as your eyes casted themselves down to the floor and you just wanted a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. A sense of dread began to fill your body and your head began to feel heavy as your anxiety started to climb. Trying to breathe through the dizzying feeling, you kept your eyes down as you made your way past the table Spencer was sat at. When you reached your friends, you offered a small smile before telling them, “The headache is just getting worse, I think I need to get going. I’m sorry to be a downer…”

“Hey it’s okay! Get to feeling better!” Maddie told you, offering a smile to try and comfort you. 

“Thanks,” you said as you reached into your small purse and pulled out a few bills that should more than cover your fair share of the meal. “Congrats again, Adri. You earned it!” you told her with a fake chipperness in your voice that you hoped was convincing. 

Once that exchange was over, you quickly made your way out of the restaurant and into the cool night air, trying to convince your lungs to take deep breaths before a full blown panic attack set in. You should have known that all of this with Spencer was too good to be true. You should have known that he just wanted you for sex and nothing more. 

Even though you know you shouldn’t have, after that night meeting Derek and Penelope, you had let your mind wander just a bit and had imagined a little life with Spencer. An apartment smack between both of your jobs, going to the movies together, reading in silence on the couch, maybe even him showing you off at some team party after they closed a particularly hard case. But clearly none of that was in the cards for him… It was just a fantasy you had built in your head.

How did you let this drag on for so long? You pride yourself on being a strong and independent person and for the longest time had sworn off dating after the last disaster that had ruined your life. Yet here you were letting Spencer come crashing into your life, upturning everything you had built for yourself. A searing hatred started to rise in your chest, but it wasn’t directed toward Spencer. It was for yourself.

Your thoughts were interrupted though when a gentle hand was placed on your upper arm to get your attention. Just turning to look at Spencer made you dizzy once again and you braced yourself against the building to keep from falling. “Are you okay?” Spencer asked. “You’re still on the pill right? I didn’t even think about asking, I-”

“Yes I’m still on the stupid pill,” you choked out through your tight throat that felt like it was threatening to close up any moment. 

“Then what’s-?” he tried but you interrupted him. 

“I just thought you thought of me better than a ‘love toy…’” you whispered, the sound barely audible. 

Spencer reached for your hand and squeezed it gently which made your heart soar, but it came crashing down once again when he softly reminded you, “No attachments, remember?”

Panic reared its ugly head again as that dreadful feeling threatened to overwhelm you. So before you could break down in front of Spencer in front of the restaurant, you jerked your hand away and sharply told him, “You can go to Hell, Spencer Reid…” 

a/n: phew, that was... something! i think i need to go touch some grass... anyways, when i was plotting this, i couldn't help but think of another song that ended up causing their backstory, so i'm going to start writing a part two to this called 'butterfly effect' because i don't like unhappy endings. i hope to see you there! likes and comments are always appreciated!

xo, brooke :)

part two - butterfly effect

[skywalkerslvt]

Cramped—Logan Howlett

❥Pairing: Logan Howlett x AFAB!Reader (no pronouns other than 'you' mentioned)

❥Summary: While on the run from enemies, Logan and reader find a temporary hideout; a cramped supply closet. Things ensue...

❥CW: 18+, smut, forced proximity, minor dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it hoes), 2.2k words

❥a/n: god I'm such a fucking slut for this man. Hope u enjoy reading this highkey cliché fic as much as I enjoyed writing it (I had way too much fun writing this it's concerning) NOT PROOFREAD!!

The plan had seemed foolproof—until it wasn’t. What was meant to be a quiet infiltration erupted into gunfire and chaos, forcing you and Logan to improvise on the fly. You sprinted through the labyrinth of hallways, the sound of pounding footsteps and barked orders hot on your heels. Just when your lungs felt like they'd burst, Logan's hand shot out, gripping your arm and pulling you into a narrow doorway. Before you could react, he dragged you into a cramped, pitch-black closet, slamming the door behind you. His chest was flush against your back, one hand swiftly covering your mouth to stifle your gasps while the other was wrapped around your waist. The heat of his body pressed into you as his breath tickled your ear. "Quiet," he whispered, voice low and rough. "We can't outrun them. We're hiding here until they pass." The tight space, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, and the intensity of his presence made it impossible to focus on anything else.

You could feel Logan's chest rising and falling against your back, the heat of his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine despite the tension in the air. "Quiet, huh?" you muttered under your breath, shifting slightly against his hold. "This was your idea, remember? Charging headfirst into a whole squad of armed men?"

Logan’s grip tightened on your arm, his voice a low growl in your ear. “I didn’t hear you coming up with any better plans. Unless you count running in circles while getting shot at as a strategy.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. “Maybe if you’d actually listened to me for once, we wouldn’t be hiding in a damn closet right now.”

Logan huffed, his breath warm against your ear. “Yeah, well, maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, but the sudden closeness of his body, the feel of his rough hand that had moved from your mouth to your collarbone, and his hot breath fanning against your neck stopped you short. The tension between you had always been there, simmering under the surface, but now, in this cramped, dark space, it felt like it might just boil over.

Blinking, you regained your composure. “Well, I-” you began, but were quickly cut off by his hand covering your mouth again, your words muffled against his flesh. 

“Someone's coming,” he breathed, his grip on you tightening as you were pulled impossibly closer against his body. Sure enough, footsteps sounded outside the door a few moments later. 

As the footsteps halted right outside the door, the tension between you and Logan grew almost unbearable. Your heart pounded wildly, not just from fear, but from the electric charge that seemed to crackle in the air between your bodies. Logan's chest pressed firmly against your back, his hand still covering your mouth. The warmth of his breath fanned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine despite the danger lurking just beyond the door.

You were hyper-aware of every point of contact–his solid body behind you, the rough texture of his hand on your skin, the way his breath hitched slightly as the person outside hesitated, listening.

Your senses were on overdrive, each second stretching out as your body reacted to Logan's closeness in ways you couldn't control.

It was wrong, wildly inappropriate given the situation, but the feel of his hard chest against your back, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, was doing things to you that you'd never admit out loud. You shifted slightly, trying to ease the tension in your muscles, but the movement only made things worse–or better, depending on how you looked at it.

Your slight wiggle caused your hips to brush against his in the confined space, and Logan's grip on you tightened, a low, almost imperceptible groan escaping him. The sound sent a thrill straight to your core, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what you'd just done. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against you, his "predicament" unmistakable in the dark, cramped closet.

Logan's fingers flexed against your waist, his breath coming faster, rougher against your ear. He didn't pull away, didn't loosen his grip, and for a moment, you were both frozen, caught in the tension of the moment, the thin line between danger and desire.

Your pulse raced, and the temptation to grind back against him, to push things just a little further, was almost overwhelming. The footsteps outside were retreating, but neither of you moved, the charged silence between you heavy with unspoken need.

Logan sighed, his head thrown back against the wall in shame. He cleared his throat, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. “Listen…I-” he cut himself off with a groan as you pushed your ass back against crotch, your desire for him pushing your fear of getting caught to the side. 

“Shh. Just–just shut up,” you whispered, eyes squeezing closed as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. 

Logan's breath hitched at the unexpected pressure, his body reacting instinctively to the friction. His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer as he groaned low in your ear, his restraint slipping. You could feel the heat of him through his pants, hard and insistent against you, the tension between you igniting like a spark to dry tinder.

"Fuck, you're really playing with fire," Logan rasped, his voice strained, teetering between warning and desire.

But he didn't push you away. Instead, his fingers dug into your hip, his chest pressed so tightly against your back that you could feel the rapid beat of his heart matching your own.

The weight of your mutual attraction was heavy in the cramped space, the unspoken desire that had been simmering beneath the surface now threatening to consume you both. You could sense the hesitation in Logan's movements, the conflict between wanting to push you away and the undeniable need that had taken hold of him.

"Yeah, well," you breathed, your own voice shaky with both fear and excitement, "maybe I like the heat."

You felt Logan's lips brush against the shell of your ear, his fingers now trailing your waistband, his hot breath fanning across your skin as his resolve finally broke. “Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to stop,” he muttered, but the way his body pressed into yours, hard and unyielding, told you he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

You shook your head, breathing out a soft “no,” and that was all Logan needed to hear. His hand made its way down the front of your pants, fingers rubbing slow circles on your clothed clit as he sloppily kissed and bit at your neck. 

A small, breathless moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the thick air in the cramped closet. Logan's reaction was immediate–his hand left your waistband and clamped over your mouth again, his lips now brushing against your ear as he whispered harshly, "You need to keep quiet, darlin. Or we'll both get caught, and this won't end the way either of us wants."

The combination of his roughened voice and the intoxicating closeness sent a shiver down your spine. The feel of his body so intimately pressed against yours, his hand possessively over your mouth, only fueled the fire building inside you. But the very real danger just outside the door added a sharp edge to your desire.

Logan's hand lingered on your mouth, as if he wasn't sure whether you'd manage to hold back the sounds threatening to spill from you, the tension in his grip telling you he was barely holding on himself. His hips pressed into yours, the heat between your bodies growing more intense by the second, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted him, consequences be damned.

Logan's fingers hovered at the waistband of your pants, his resolve hanging by a thread. You could feel his hesitation, the way his chest heaved against your back as if he were trying to convince himself to stop. But when your hips shifted back, pressing firmly against him, it shattered any remaining restraint.

His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your pants, his rough fingers sliding past your underwear and finding your slick heat. A choked sound rumbled in his chest as his fingers began to move, slow and deliberate, tracing soft circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. He pressed his lips against your neck, muffling his own groans as he worked you over, the rhythm of his fingers steadily increasing in pace.

You bit your lip hard, trying to keep quiet, but each twist of his fingers made it harder and harder to hold back the whimpers threatening to escape.

Logan's other hand remained firmly over your mouth, his breath ragged in your ear. He was losing control, his fingers moving faster, deeper, curling inside you with a hunger that matched your own.

"Fuck," he growled softly, the curse slipping past his lips as he felt you tightening around him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. He couldn't take it anymore. The sound of your muffled moans, the way you writhed against him–it was driving him insane.

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers, earning a frustrated whimper from you. But before you could protest, he spun you around, pressing your back against the rough wall of the closet. His eyes were dark, filled with a raw, unbridled need as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his hand already working at the buttons of your pants.

You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp for air, your hands fumbling with the buckle of his belt, desperate to feel him inside you. Logan groaned into your mouth, the sound low and primal, as he shoved your pants down just enough to give him access.

He pressed you harder against the wall, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist as he freed himself from the confines of his pants. The feel of him, hot and hard against your thigh, made your head spin, and when he finally thrust into you, the sensation was overwhelming–an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain.

Logan's grip on your waist tightened, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move, each thrust rough and urgent, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythm that was desperate, almost frantic. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he drove into you, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

"Fuck... you feel so good," he groaned, his voice barely a whisper, but the raw emotion behind it sent a thrill through your entire body. The tension between you, the weeks of pent-up frustration and unspoken desire, all came pouring out in the way he fucked you–hard, fast, and with a reckless abandon that left you breathless.

Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder despite your best efforts to stay quiet. Logan's hand quickly covered your mouth again, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you steady as he pounded into you. "Quiet," he rasped, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his own struggle to keep silent. "Can't let them hear how badly you want this. How badly you want me."

The filthy words pushed you over the edge. Your body tightened around him, pleasure crashing through you in waves, and Logan groaned loudly against your ear as he followed you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

For a moment, the world outside the closet ceased to exist, leaving only the sound of your ragged breaths and the aftershocks of your release. Logan kept his forehead pressed against yours, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on your waist as he looked into your eyes, the intensity in his gaze softened by the shared experience. "You alright?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You nodded, still catching your breath, the weight of what just happened slowly sinking in. But there was no time to dwell on it–footsteps sounded in the distance, reminding you both that the danger was far from over.

Logan adjusted your clothes quickly, his hands surprisingly gentle despite what had just transpired. "We gotta move," he whispered, his tone back to business, though the lingering heat in his eyes told you that what had just happened was far from forgotten.

With one last, lingering look, Logan cracked the door open, peering out to make sure the coast was clear. Then, with a silent nod, he took your hand, leading you out of the closet and back into the chaos that awaited.

[madame-fear]

Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)

𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.

After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.

A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.

There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.

Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.

Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.

The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.

Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.

Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.

Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.

Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.

But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.

All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.

Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.

Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.

The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.

The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.

Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.

Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.

Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...

... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?

You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.

The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.

At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.

A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.

The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”

The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.

But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.

You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.

Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.

It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.

“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.

You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.

Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”

The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.

You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.

It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.

“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.

“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.

You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.

“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.

The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”

Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”

“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.

Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”

A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.

“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?

You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.

Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.

His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”

“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.

For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.

What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.

“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”

The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.

The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.

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[bunny-jpeg]

in the quiet spaces between you and i

simon 'ghost' riley

tags: smut & fluff, sleepy morning sex, tender & loving, established relationship, simon is smitten by you,

rain hit harshly against the window of your bedroom. you exhaled deeply as you slowly opened your eyes. it was one of those days, you knew it was going to be raining all week. but, you didn't expect it to pour.

it was a sham because you had been having quite a sunny spell in the city. but for now, the grey skies and heavy patter of rain made you seek refuge in the arms of your much larger lover. simon. the ghost as he was known in service, but in the quiet flat you both shared. he was just simon, or si, or honey. hell, even one of the million other nicknames you had for him.

you opened your eyes a little wider and yawned loudly. simon slung an arm over your middle and you pressed your face against his built chest. you admired how strong he was. he had arms that could choke someone out and thighs that could crack a coconut. but nestled in the sanctuary of your bed. he was as gentle as a lamb. one who easily leaned into your kisses with a half-asleep smile. your short nails lightly dragged down the side of his jaw, feeling the stubble against your digits. you leaned in and kissed him tenderly, with such love.

simon was a catch, he could be terrifyingly intimidating. but, those brown eyes only grew soft when they were gazing at you. always protective. but not patronizing. he knew you inside and out, that came from years in the military. he studied you, but not the way a scientist would a bug. but, rather a man trying his best to be the partner you deserved. and if being the best meant carrying an extra umbrella in his bag because you had a habit of forgetting yours then so be it.

"love." he said in a quiet voice, "whatcha lookin' at? got drool on my face or somethin'?" his voice was like a bear growl, a rumble that made you smile. you kissed him again and his eyes remained shut as he enjoyed your kiss.

"shh, shh." you cooed when you pulled away from the kiss, "just admiring you." you giggled softly.

he smiled a little, "nothin' to admire. like lookin' at a garbage heap." he tightened his grip around you and hoisted you up onto his waist as he laid on his back. his brown eyes a little more open as he admired you with a dream-like gaze, "you on the other hand." he smiled a little more, "lookin' at you is like lookin' at art. kinda wish i could nail ya up against the wall too." then placed his hands on your hips. your softness felt nice in his rough hands.

hands that could kill and maim. he was like a wild animal, he would tear through what he could in order for some primal driven ideal of peace. instead he held the fat of your hips with such a devotion, like you were going to slip through his fingers at any moment. but you'd never leave, not with the life you built together. simon really felt like a ghost before he met you. home had no roots until you slowly planted them in the cracks of his soul.

bland food was replaced with home recipes, a single pair of work boots were replaced with many pairs of shoes along with a closet near bursting with clothes, blank walls were panted over in brighter colours and decorated with photos. simon hated having his photo taken, but he'd do it for you.

his hands trailed up and down your sides, he pushed up the large black tshirt you wore. he exposed the boxers you wore (and stole) underneath. you liked to sleep in his clothes, it made you feel closer to him. as if you weren't buried under his arm almost every night. his eyes went a little wider when you peeled the shirt off and exposed your beautiful breasts to him.

his eyes quickly darted to your face as he asked, "do.. do you want this? you can stop if you want." he never wanted to force you into any act of sexual activity. he may have his urges, but he would never force you into anything.

you nodded softly, "si, i always want you. wanting you is like wanting air, or water or cheap kebab. i can taste it on my tongue when i think about it too hard." then pulled at the waistband of the underwear you wore. simon's gaze was on you as you stripped down and when he broke himself out of his trance, he stripped down as well.

you ended up on his waist once more. his hard cock up against your soft stomach. you licked your lips. you asked him, "do you want this? are you comfortable?"

simon nodded. consent was a two-way street. it took at least two to tango this way, both parties had to be happy, even if a little sleepy. he held onto you and guided you onto his cock. he tensed up and said, "yes, yes. that's it. oh, fuck." he swallowed as you easily took him. he wasn't small by any means, but careful movements got you seated on him like it was your personal throne.

you asked, "do you like that?" the rain continued to batter against the window. but you two were dry and warm in each other's embrace. you knew today would be a lazy day in bed. maybe simon had to check a few work emails, and maybe you'd get leftovers out of the fridge for dinner. but with the weather outside, you'd be rather cozy curled up in your flat.

simon took your hands and placed them on the expanse of his chest. you could feel the tawny-blond short hairs under your finger tips. you could feel the leap in his heartbeat and you smiled softly at him. he smiled softly at you. he once said he didn't smile as much in the previous thirty years of his life compared to the two years he had known you. it was hard not to smile when it felt like the sun itself was beaming at him at all times.

he moaned a little, "yeah, sunshine. you're doin' amazin'." his expression was still a little sleepy as you moved against him. the sex was slow, but lined with passion. you always held passion for one another, a flickering flame in your heart that you carried with you. and in moments of quiet intimacy, the pair of flames met. kissed and fluttered in each other's company. you loved simon, you loved him in a way that felt like it came from a storybook. even in the hard times.

the days apart, hell, the months apart. simon's ability to emotionally close off and your ability to feel nothing but a cold of anxiety through you. but in moments of weakness you built up one another, and it bloomed into the life long intimacy you both shared. the love that went deeper than waves of the ocean.

you leaned down and kissed simon on the lips as you moved against him. you felt your love for him wrapped up in a sexual fever that climbed from your core up to your brain. it left sparks in your blood as you planted your hands firmly on his chest. your hips rolled slowly and the kiss only deepened.

he groaned against you. this was heaven. simon once believed that he had died on the battlefield and somehow weaseled his way to heaven. there he met an angel, you. and you loved him and stitched back a broken man. piece by piece. he said close to your lips, "i love you."

and you replied with no uncertain terms, "and i love you, simon riley." his name on your lips sounded like gospel. it excited him just as much as it scared him. he held onto you a little tighter and let you move against him. the pleasure coursed through both of you, the heightened heat would only lead to a orgasmic high that would make your toes curl.

it was a mutual goal as you continued to move against him. heated breaths in a quiet bedroom. outside was gloomy and cold. but the sparks of light made the room you shared inviting and comforting. this was the man of your dreams.

scarred, tattooed, many times beats and many more times broken. but wasn't that love? to pick up the pieces of another, shake them it in their face and demand that they allow themselves to be loved?

that was all you could give simon. your love, your loyalty and a future.

the two of you kissed while pleasure coursed through the both of you. your pace staggered as the want made your heart race. it felt amazing, it always did. being intimate, soft, loving. to be held by your beloved simon as you rocked against him. there were no expectations, you could not cum and you'd still feel happy. to feel loved, oh to feel loved by simon, that was worth more than orgasm after orgasm.

he groaned when you parted the kiss. he held onto you a little tighter and exhaled deeply as the pleasure properly washed over him. he said through tense words, "i'm close. baby, i'm close."

and you worked yourself harder on him. the sex between you two was electric and you felt the urge to finish come over you. you let out a sweet moan, like dessert wine. it left simon drunk off as feeling. as you came, he came as well. he leaned forward to bury his face in your soft torso as you continued to ride him through both of your climaxes.

your voice was tense as you said you loved him once more. you never said those words without meaning them. you were everything to him and he in turn was everything to you. when your pace slowed, he pulled you back down with him onto the bed.

he smothered you in his love as he feverishly kissed you in the hot after glow of sex. while it wasn't the most extreme form of love making you felt soft and warm. you felt the love in love making. simon's kisses were silent prayers to his angel as he held you close in his strong arms.

you giggled against his lips before you pulled away and held his face lovingly. you felt heat in your face and could see the heat in his. you smiled, the kind of loopy, happy smile that lovers had. he kissed you once more before you managed to get the covers over you once more.

the clothes could wait, as could breakfast. because while you had pancakes on the brain, your lover's kisses were more filling. <3

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise ch. 2

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 1.9k

cw: your boyfriend is an asshole, again

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

prev

when nathan got out of the car, you realized that this was actually the second time today that you had forgotten about him, too busy talking with john to remember your literal boyfriend a couple of feet away.

“this is the place?” nathan asked incredulously, “looks kind of busted up.”

you stiffened at his rudeness and were about to apologize when you heard john laugh, “yeah, this is the place, i keep telling them it could do with a paint job.”

you all walked over to the open garage doors and john yelled out, “soap, ghost, get your asses out here. you have customers.”

you heard a dull thunk, a grunt of pain and then looked down to the ground to see a man with a mohawk roll out from underneath a car. he rubbed his head to soothe the angry red spot now forming on his forehead but there was still a lopsided grin on his face and mischief sparkling in his bright blue eyes.

“cap’n, bringin’ us guests? you shouldnae ‘ave” he looked over at you and nathan, his grin growing a bit wider when he spotted you. “och, and who’s the lass?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at john, who looked sternly at him, “soap, behave.”

soap just shrugged making john sigh, but he continued, “found her and her boyfriend on the side of the road, her car’s dead, told them you could fix it. oh, and that you’d give them a friends and family discount.”

he shook his head and you worried that he wouldn’t be willing to do the job, or that this apparent kinship to john didn’t extend to people he found on the side of the road. then he said, “wouldnae be right, makin’ a bonnie lass pay a cent.”

“johnny, you can’t give free repairs to every pretty girl that comes in, we’d go out of business,” said a man as he walked into the garage, wiping his hands with an oily cloth.

“simon, finally joining us, then?” john said. “had to order some parts,” simon shrugged. simon was huge, big muscles, even taller than john, he had close-cropped blonde hair and he wore a black surgical mask but it didn’t stop him from leaning over to kiss johnny on the head through the material. out of the corner of your eye, you saw nathan cringe slightly at this action, but maybe he just didn’t like pda, he had mentioned something a while ago about it grossing him out.

simon’s words broke you out of your thoughts and you turned back to him, he had asked something about if this had been a reoccurring issue.

“oh, no, this is the first time it’s done anything like this. sure, it’s not the best car, but it’s never up and gave up before.”

simon scratched his chin and nodded as you spoke, “you mind if i take a look then?” you shook your head, “go ahead,” and you handed him your keys.

“actually, i know some stuff about cars, think i could take a look with you?” nathan spoke up, making you raise an eyebrow.

“since when?” you said, making both johns laugh, and it even got a small chuckle out of simon.

nathan’s face went red, “i- i know plenty about cars, you don’t know everything i do.”

“come on then, maybe you can do my job for me” simon said, walking over and practically scruffing nathan, leading him towards your car.

“so you two were in the force with john?” i asked. the three of you had settled in the air-conditioned office of the repair shop and johnny had made you tea, despite your insistence on it being unnecessary.

“aye. me, lt, and cap’n were all on the same task force. until i almost got murked, that is.” soap emphasized this by pointing to the giant star-shaped scar that marked the side of his shaved head.

“lt retired then too, had to take care of my sorry ass for a long while. then cap’n retired too, moved here-“ “yeah, and you two followed me here, so you could keep being pains in my ass” john grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“he really does love us, ye ken?” johnny stage whispered to you. john just shook his head, his smile growing.

“so, that just leaves one o’ us still in the force, our boy gaz. he’s a lieutenant now, ugh, they grow up so fast” johnny wiped away a fake tear.

“he still visits us old folk from time to time,” john said to you which made soap practically squawk in protest.

“awa' an bile yer heid, i’m a spring chicken compared to you two old heads” he pointed at john and then outside the window where simon stood with nathan at the car, the latter looking very emasculated.

“john calls you soap, was that your nickname?” you asked, suddenly curious.

johnny grinned in response, his annoyance fading away, “aye, it’s an inside joke between us. sorry lass, i couldn’t tell you even under threat of torture.”

“hm, alright, well, do you all have nicknames? unless you’re not allowed to tell me that either” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“och, ye found yourself a feisty bird, price,” soap laughed as he looked over at john.

“she’s not mine, remember?” he looked pointedly at johnny.

“aye, i do now. she’s with that weird looking fellow?” johnny said with such seriousness that it made you burst out into laughter, even if it was making fun of your boyfriend.

“oh god, i shouldn’t be laughing, that is so mean” you said between giggles which made soap smirk,

“he could do with being knocked down a peg or two. the bell above the door rung as nathan stepped inside, quickly followed by simon, “speaking of” soap murmured, his face shifting into a scowl.

“bad news, babe, he said it would take at least three days to fix the problem since we’d have to order a part from somewhere else,” nathan grumbled.

your face fell, “oh no, but what about the dinner with your parents?”

he shrugged, “i don’t know, i’m gonna have to call them or something.” you bit your lip, “right, okay. ugh, i’m sorry, i know you were looking forward to it.” “i knew we should’ve taken my car” he practically spat out, and you just barely stopped yourself from reminding him he insisted on taking your car.

“you could take my truck?” john offered and your gaze softened as you looked over at him, “that’s really nice of you-“ “we are not taking that thing to my parents’, it’s probably worse off than her car and we’ll be back to square one. let’s find a hotel or something and stay there until we figure something out.”

nathan apparently didn’t notice the cutting glares that both simon and johnny were giving him, not liking that someone was disrespecting their captain.

“you’re shit out of luck then, not gonna find a hotel anywhere around here” simon said, his voice had gotten lower, if that was possible, almost a growl. john looked between the two men, something in his eyes somehow conveying for them to back down because they settled slightly.

“you two can stay at my place until the car is fixed,” john turned to face nathan, “if that isn’t going to be a problem?” nathan glanced between the three men, who all stared patiently at him, almost like they were stalking their prey and waiting for the moment to strike.

“that would be fine” he said after a moment’s consideration, making john smile, his angry countenance fading away like clouds passing in front of the sun.

simon and johnny decided to close up shop early and drive with us to john’s house, figuring they could stay for dinner as well. plus, someone needed to drive nathan, otherwise he’d be stuck in the bed of the truck with all the other things simon had unloaded from your car. however, nathan did insist that you rode with him this time, him sitting in the front of simon’s car, you in the backseat and simon driving.

“so, what was your nickname on the force?” you broke the silence.

he eyed you through the rear view mirror, raising an eyebrow, “who said i had one?”

you fidgeted with your hands, worried you’d upset him, “well, i guess i shouldn’t have assumed but since johnny had one, i thought you all would.”

he just laughed, “sorry, love, just messing with you. i did have one, callsign was ghost.”

“ghost? hell kind of name is that?” nathan asked from the passenger seat.

“means you’d never see me coming” simon growled out, making nathan flinch slightly.

he laughed nervously, “that’s.. that’s a joke right?” simon just glanced at him, eyeing him up and down, and then turning back to the road. nathan didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride.

when simon turned onto john’s property, your mouth practically hung open. it was beautiful, like out of a story book. a two story english farm house with aged bricks, half engulfed by vines and surrounded by lush gardens. simon chuckled and you realized in an embarrassing moment that he was laughing at you and your dazed, open expression.

quickly, you shut your mouth with your hand and cleared your throat, “it’s, um, it’s a beautiful place, is all.” you stepped out of the car, after simon opened the door for you (who knew he was such a gentleman) and watched as john did the same.

“it’s gorgeous” you remarked to him, fairly certain you still had a starry-eyed look to your face.

he just shrugged, “could do with some work, for sure” but even through the dismissive comment, you could tell he was proud of his home.

turning back, you saw nathan, sour-faced. you let out a small sigh, ‘can’t wait to find out what that’s about,’ you thought, grimly.

“i’ll get yer bags for ye” johnny said, an impish grin on his face, making you wonder if he was going to go snooping in your stuff but you just thanked him and watched as he disappeared into the house.

“i’ll go make sure he behaves” simon said gruffly, following after him. you did notice that johnny had specifically only grabbed your bags, leaving nathan to contend with his own, and in the deepest part of your mind, that made you just a little happy. you shook that thought away, ‘no, that’s your boyfriend, do not laugh at him.’

he pushed past you, grumbling something about these men all being assholes, pausing every so often to shift the bags in his grip.

“think he needs help?” john asked, startling you slightly. you didn’t even notice him walking up even though he was standing right next to you.

“oh! uh, maybe, but he’ll be fine. he can handle it” you said, and then flushed slightly, “i’m sorry, that was mean.”

john just chuckled, “sweetheart, i don’t think you have a mean bone in your body.”

that made you flush even more, hiding your face by turning your head slightly, “i wouldn’t say that, exactly, but thank you.”

you froze slightly when he put his hand on your waist, “ready to go inside? or you gonna keep staring at the outside for a couple more hours.”

“right, yeah, let’s go in, sorry.” you tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest as he used his arm behind your back to guide you towards the house. christ, this was looking to be a long day.

a/n: ok yay!!! pt. 2!! haven’t written this much in a long time ngl 😭 yet again, no beta reader, so this is very much unedited, sorry. really wish i could’ve put gaz in this but it didn’t really make sense that he would retire as well :/ but maybe he’ll make an appearance later!! i’ll think of smth..

tag list: @the-disaster-in-waiting

@night-girl-301

@darkangel4121

[reiderwriter]

✍️ Dear Diary ✍️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Requested: Hi thereee! I was thinking about a request since I saw they’re open again… I was thinking maybe Con-non con breeding/cream pie?🤭 maybe somnophilia too. S get home en R is sleeping and he just take what he wants but it’s obviously something mutual.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Dubcon/ CNC, somnophilia, breeding, pet play (kitten/owner), daddy kink, unprotected sex, almost one bed trope, oral (m recieving), Perv!Spencer, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader and just incredibly horny Reader and Spencer.

Summary: Spencer comes across your dream journal and finds out that you're not plagued with nightmares but with wet dreams. And they're all about him.

A/N: Thank you to @reidmotif, who basically told me the entire concept of this fic was forcing Spencer to read smut headcannons about himself and watching the reactions. I think this is the quickest I've ever written something from start to finish 💀

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Spencer didn't know what possessed him to read through your diary, but he couldn't stop when he started. At a single glance, he could tell it wasn't the book that he was looking for, the one you'd sent him to find in your bedroom, the one you'd recommended he read. 

That one was beside it on the side table, but there was something about the black moleskin, laid perfectly flat on the desk, that had his fingers itching as he moved it forward. 

You were otherwise occupied with setting out the plates of takeaway you'd ordered for the six people currently sat in your living room, so knowing his company wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, he sat himself down and began reading. 

Within ten pages, he completely regretted it. 

He'd sussed out by the title page that this wasn't just a normal journal but a dream journal. It was heavily recommended in a lot of the mandated therapy sessions you guys did. Hell, even Hotch had suggested it to him a few times, so he shouldn't be surprised you kept one. 

He was just surprised at the content of your dreams.

He knew his own were dark and painful, and he was curious, thinking that knowing your dreams could help him assist you better through whatever was plaguing you recently. 

In ten pages, he'd managed to suss out that it was him that was plaguing you. 

“May 8th - Woke up hot again. Dreamt of Spencer waking me up with his tongue. Need to get this out of my system.” 

“May 10th - On my back tied to the bed. Spencer again. I'm going to hell.” 

“May 22nd - Kitten ears. And Spencer's cum splashing on my face as a wake up call. I'm a freak!” 

Each entry was similar, and he read on page after page, until he felt his cock stiffening and he had to put the book down and remind himself that there was company just a few doors away. Company that included his friends and a woman who'd been dreaming of fucking him every night for… three months now. 

He took a deep breath. He took a lot of deep breaths, forcing himself to think of the most unappealing things ever as he calmed himself down. 

A voice down the hall called his name, and he dropped the journal like a scalding pot and picked up the other book, opening it to a random page and trying to look convincingly entranced. 

“Spencer, what-?” You asked, seeing him sat on your bed reading the book. He thanked the heavens that the book was a hardback and just big enough to hide the remaining stiffness in his pants while he tried to will it to deflate. 

“Oh, good book, right? I should've known you'd start reading it straight away. Just take it home, Spencer.”

“No, no, it's okay, I don't need-” 

“No, it's fine. You can give it back at the Stanford Review Psychology Seminar next weekend. We're rooming still, right?” 

He took in what felt like a gulp of air, forcing the oxygen down into his lungs as his tongue laid as useless in his mouth as his cock felt in his pants.

“Right.” He managed to get out as you told him to haul his ass back to the living area. 

He took up your journal again, though, and for the next few minutes, committed your diary to memory and left the room. 

“Spencer, come on, kid, what book is as interesting as Wrestlemania?” Morgan said, clapping him on the back as he ripped through a slice of pizza. 

One where the author said she'd woken up mid-orgasm just imagining he'd tied her down. And him specifically.

“Leave the kid alone, you know he's prone to his little fantasies,” Rossi chimed in as well, passing Spencer a beer quickly and cracking one open for himself.

Not the most prone person in the room to fantasies, of course, but possibly the second most prone. 

“Shut up and watch the game, you're making him squirm,” you said from your perch behind his seat on the couch, giving him a quick pat on the shoulders, your fingers lingering just too long. 

And with the word squirm went his whole concentration as he started imagining your small mews and purrs of pleasure, your sleepy face dazed as his fingers roughly curled into your cunt. You'd squirm for him, and you'd do a whole lot more than that. 

The rest of the night tortured him the same way, though thankfully he'd managed to find a pillow to cover up his small - though growing ever harder - issue. At last, he was the last one left in your apartment, the others letting themselves out after you'd crashed on your own sofa just inches from him. 

To be fair, they'd pulled off the herculean task of cleaning up after themselves without waking you, despite your notoriety for sleeping light. 

He'd waved off the others and said he'd get you back into bed, protests quickly falling on deaf ears. Yes, Morgan may have been the better choice to carry your dead-tired weight, but he was also five beers in and just as likely to slam you into the bed a la whatever wrestlers Spencer had been ignoring on the screen all night. 

He'd gotten himself mostly under control anyway, so he'd been able to rush them out of the door, drunk or senile, and managed to turn himself back to you. 

You were curled up in a little ball, like a cat who'd found the perfect cardboard box to sit in. You filled the space and looked comfortable, but he knew you'd be sore in the morning. Either that, or your words had driven him to the brink of insanity and he just wanted his hands on you for once.

He didn't bother trying to fully lift you, knowing you'd definitely freak out and wake up if he tried. 

Instead, he started talking to you in your sleep. 

“Y/N… let's go to bed,” he whispered, pulling your arms limply around his neck as he tugged you upwards with two hands firmly on your hips until you were standing. 

You let out a small whimper of protest, head falling forward to nuzzle into his chest as he started slowly walking you back to your bed. It was a technique he'd used on you more than once, getting you to comply when half asleep on multiple occasions to assist you when drunk or exhausted or both. 

With the revelations of your diary, he thought about talking you into even more in your sleepy state but resisted. 

“Spencer…” you mumbled, gripping him loosely and pressing kisses against his shirt and chest, lazily. 

He had to remind himself you were still asleep, even if you were moving and talking. Asleep, even if you had wanted him to wake you up with a cock in your cunt. Asleep, and not his girlfriend, or lover, or anything more than coworker, as his cock hardened and the backs of your knees finally hit the side of your bed. 

You half collapsed onto it, and we're half lowered gently by Spencer, though in all his uncoordination, he couldn't stop himself from falling directly on top of you. 

“Yes, Spencer…” you sighed, hands brushing up and down his chest above you as he froze solid. 

He was screwed. He'd read every word of that diary. He could imagine exactly what it was you were dreaming of at that moment, and he needed to extricate himself before he did something he'd hate himself for. 

His hand snaked up your waist, just brushing your nipple as he finally dropped it to the bed and pushed himself up. He couldn't touch you anymore without consequences, and while those consequences sounded truly…delightful, he resisted. 

Tucking you into bed, drowning out the sounds of your faint purrs and moans, he rubbed his cock through his pants to ease some of the ache. He denied himself more, grabbing your recommended book from the side table, leaving the infernal journal and closing the door on quite possibly one of the most arousing experiences of his life. 

He was screwed. 

A week passed and left him in his state of screwedness. You may have dreamed of him taking you like that, almost against your will, but he dreamed of you begging him to do so. 

He awoke stiff every day and refused to touch himself, to acknowledge the disgusting pleasure he was getting from his imagination. 

A week full of cold showers and blue balls, and what did it end with except being back in close quarters with your horny ass. 

Screwed supreme. 

You noticed he was acting off very quickly, and you'd commented on it the morning of conference day one, knocking him back slightly with each step towards him you took. 

“Spencer, are you sick?” You said, stepping closer, raising a hand as if to test his temperature. 

“No, no, I just... germaphobic, remember?" he smiled, gently brushing your hand away. He also took another step away from you to stop him from balling his hands into your sides and pushing you down to the floor to have his way with you. 

“That hasn't bothered you before. You literally said last week that we're in the same places so often that we've been exposed to the same bacteria and have likely formed an immuno-connection or whatever-”

“There's just-” he said, now taking another step further away from you, hands up in a surrendering pose to halt your approach. “A lot of people at this conference. It's making me a bit uncomfortable.” 

You seemed to understand that, backing off. And thankfully, just in time, because a second later and his hands would've been tangled in your hair, forcing you to your knees so he could show you just how compromised he could get you. 

You'd dreamt about something similar on March 25th. And April 3rd. 

It wasn't just his own lust for you fogging his mind - he'd dealt with that before, his hand a friendly nighttime companion - but compounded with your own, it was unbearable. 

He looked at you and all he saw was “March 2nd - Begged Spencer to cum inside me, and fill his little kitten as much as he could. Could I convince him to fo that for real?” 

For fucking real.

He felt infinitely more respect for your skills at your job now, knowing that he couldn't go a week without genuinely flinching away from your touch feeling this goddamn pent up, and you'd lasted three months and counting without so much as batting an eye. 

After wandering through the conference all day, listening to the keynote speakers and giving a speech of his own, he'd grown exhausted. He was tired of avoiding you, but it had to be done. The thing he feared the most was breaking and becoming one of the monsters he'd dedicated his life to catching. The thing he feared most was you. 

You'd hugged him when he completed his speech, lingering still after pulling away, so he was still aware of every inch and curve of you. 

“I'm so proud of you,” you said with a smile, straightening his tie. You wouldn't be proud of him if you knew what he wanted to do with that tie. He imagined, even in a crowd of people, pulling you back by your hair - March 31st - and gagging you with the scrap of material - April 17th.

After almost doing just that, he quickly excused himself, and 12 miscalls and 27 text messages later, you'd finally given him what he wanted - “I'm going to sleep now. We need to talk in the morning.” 

He finally crept back to the room you were sharing from a restaurant below. He'd thought about numbing his senses with alcohol but decided against it, not willing to take the risk that he'd numb his inhibitions at the same time. 

It wouldn't be the first time alcohol had made him get handsy with you, scowling as he remembered his hands trailing all over you during karaoke at the Delfino, his hands gripping tighter as the night stretched out longer. You'd both been trying to sing Billy Joel, and then he'd been trying to keep hold of you no matter how much you'd giggled and fidgeted. 

Looking back now, he was sure it was only the presence of every single one of your coworkers and half the FBI that stopped him from covering you in kisses, from pushing his hand up your shirt and playing with you. 

Alone in your hotel room, there was nowhere else. 

Sure enough, though, there was another bed, which he happily threw himself on when he entered, knowing he'd claimed the one closest to the door. 

He sat for a minute, then two, then three, and just knowing you were close had his brain begging to repeat everything it had learnt in your diary. 

“March 1st - I think I had a sex dream about Spencer. I think I really enjoyed it. I think I should avoid him today” 

“March 18th - Used my vibratory before bed and still woke up needy. What would Spencer's cock feel like buried inside of me?”

“April 14th - He took me over a desk in the bullpen while continuing his conversation with Hotch. I almost cried, waking up and finding out it wasn't real.” 

“June 4th - Spencer is coming over tonight, and I spent the whole day masturbating to memories of my own dreams about him…. I'm definitely going to hell.” 

It was as he repeated each of these entries in his head like a mantra that the bed shifted and he felt something next to him. 

Whatever bed he'd thrown himself into, you had decided to occupy as well. He felt your ass first, wiggling up against his crotch as you snuggled into whatever warmth he was offering beside you. 

The content sigh that left your lips was the final straw as Spencer's nerves frayed and his already throbbing cock begged for relief. 

His hands held your hips still as he unthinkingly began to rut into you, rubbing his cock against your ass in any way that would find release. 

He tried to stop himself, but you were mid-dream now, and you were making those noises again. 

Tiny little pants, mewls of pleasure, his name. Jesus Christ, his name. 

He pushed down his boxers as you threw your head back, landing at the crook of his neck, your breath fanning over his skin as you turned over. 

Instead of rutting against your ass, he could now hitch your legs across his thighs and at least get close enough to where he wanted to be, buried in your wet, aching pussy. 

He didn't let himself. Biting his lip, he moved his hands from your hips to his cock, and began a slow, painful attempt at jacking off. 

It should've been easy with you in front of him. He should've already exploded on his hand, especially after more than a week of nothing.

But you were in arms reach and it was as if his entire body was on strike until he sank into you. 

In the end, it was your movements that led him to crack, just like it had been your words in the first place that had moved him to such desperation. 

Shifting uncomfortably again in your sleep, you'd managed to push your leg over his lap and roll on top of him, all while unconscious. 

And then you started moving. Like really fucking moving, like dry humping. Spencer's brain disappeared as he tugged at your clothing to figure out how to remove as much as needed removing. 

Luckily, all he had to do was shift your panties to the side and make sure he didn't get tangled in the rest of your night dress, and, thoughtlessly, he was plunging into your depths. 

He thought it would be that first thrust that would wake him, and though he had his suspicions, he was right. You didn't move. If anything you were quieter now with his cock filling you than you had been dry humping it not a minute earlier. 

You were awake, he knew. You were awake, and you were pretending to sleep. His cock throbbed inside you at the thought and he knew he needed more. 

“March 19th, I dreamed that Spencer woke me up with some cream for his kitten. I called him Daddy. God, I wish it were real,” he whispered in your ear as you continued your facade, quoting your diary back at you as he flipped you over. 

He was gentle still, allowing you to maintain the illusion of sleep even as your heart beat out of your chest and a moan threatened to burst out of your mouth. 

Softly, his hips retreated from over yours, his thick cock withdrawing from your heat before slamming back in. 

“April 12th - Daddy let his good little kitten drink up her spilt milk from the floor. I licked his cum up with my tongue as he fucked me from behind. I'm perverse.” 

Your breathing was way harder to control now, as his hips swayed into yours repeatedly, his real cock stretching further than you'd ever imagined his dream one reaching. You'd never been a good visualiser. 

“Wake up, Y/N,” he said, kissing your neck and replacing his lips with a firm hand at your windpipe. 

“Wake up and talk to me. We're supposed to be talking about earlier, right? You're supposed to be mad at me, but instead, you're close to cumming on my big fat cock.”

You screwed your eyes up tighter as he lifted his head and let his tongue silence the first moan that you let.slip through. He'd won. 

His to guess clashed with yours as you tried to control his pace from under him, tugging your hips up, begging for more of his dick to enter you. 

Sure, you were awake, but to you, this was just another dream, and he wasn't going to let you escape him this time. 

“That's it, that's.my little girl, milk my cock,” he murmured, even as he grabbed your hips again and started setting the pace once again. It was his fingers stabbing into the gate of your hips and stomach that had you finally fully waking up and realizing that this was real, that Spencer had fucked you awake. 

“S-Spencer,” you moaned, chest jumping with each jack hammer, his head buried between them, picking and sucking like some ravenous beast devouring prey. 

“Daddy,” he corrected, sucking one nipple that had popped out of the top of your night dress into his mouth and biting down. 

You arched into the touch, and he didn't let you move away, hands instantly gripping you tighter as you squirmed and fought in his grip. He held tighter still as his dick entered you, again and again. 

Like you were falling asleep again, your brain cleared until there was only him, hic cock, his tongue on your chest, his hands on your ass keeping you in place.

“May 16th - Last night, Spencer was my owner, and he raped me in the middle of the night. He pushed his fat cock into me and I howled in pleasure, stating exactly where he put me until he released his load into me.”

The words were your own, but you couldn't feel any shame heading them, knowing the reenactment felt just as good as you'd hoped it would subconsciously. 

“Y/N, focus on me. Focus on milking my cock like s good little kitten, come on Y/N,” he said, thrusting into you with no qualms now. 

He'd given in, and he'd given in quickly, but if this was the reward, then he was never holding back again. 

“Spencer-” you shuddered out as your orgasm broke through you, his panting writhing form finally pushing you back down into the bed as he continued tutting into you until he, too, could no longer hold back. 

With a painful groan, he came and pulled out of you in an instant, letting his cum leak out of you as he watched. 

You barely had time to catch your breath before he pulled you up, tugging at your hair until you were both on your knees, then pushing you down until your face was level with his softening cock. 

“Clean up your spilt milk, kitten,” he panted, and you complied happily, licking up every drop that had splashed against his cock and stomach and thighs. 

His moans were musical, whimpers and pouts and sinful curses as he held up your hair and tried not to fuck your mouth, enjoying the sensations of your exploring g tongue too much for that. 

When he'd thought you'd done enough, he tugged you up again, wrapping his hands around your body firmly and pulling you in for one more kiss. 

“Next time,” he said, pulling away and panting to catch his breath. “Next time- you have- a dream- just- tell me.” 

You nodded and tried to chase his lips, but he pulled you back down to the bed before you made it  eliciting a small whimper of frustration. 

“You're sleeping in my bed,” he observed, stroking your head as he held you close. 

“You were avoiding me.” 

“I was avoiding you because I've been walking around with a boner for a week, and I didn't want to jump you in a conference room filled with 300 people.”

“You read my diary,” you said, pouting. 

“You let me read your diary. It was wide open on the desk, and you sent me into that room alone, knowing my eyes move quicker than my conscience does.” 

You hummed, smiling in reply but didn't answer the accusations. 

“I wonder what my wake up call in the morning will be like,” you smiled, shutting your eyes and letting yourself fall asleep, his chest pillowing your head and his arms closed tight around your waist.