#okay back to the animation grind

[temtamtom]

POV You’re the Holy Roman Empire and you see this pretty boy in the courtyard. WWYD?

Something nice and simple while I tackle uni work. Please don’t tag as Nyo Italy!

Flat version under the cut

[forsetcabiri]

ELPHELT VALENTINE would like you to SIGN HERE psst, you can commission me for one of your own!

[sirenemale]

Mother fucker how does anyone handle being an adult 🏚🏚🏚🏚🏚 (< my moldy broken flat)

[conditioned-to-obey]

I want to sink my teeth into your shoulder as I rut into you. Feeling your tight cunt throb as the dull pain distracts you from my fingers sliding between your thighs. Rubbing your swollen clit in time with my thrusts, grinding the tip into your g-spot just because I like the way your pussy tightens and tries to suck my cock in deeper.

"don't even think about it, cunt."

You beg me to slow down or else you might slip over the edge and cum without permission, might ruin your weeks of meticulous edging. I know. I keep going anyway.

I know it's hard. I'm pounding your dripping cunt too rough, sucking bruises into your flesh between my teeth. I hump harder into you, wrapping my arm around your throat to pull you down onto me.

The image of you in my head has blurred into something else. Now you're nothing but this. This drooling, tear stained, sobbing mess. Fucked out, eyes rolling back. You're not a person anymore. You're a puppy in heat. A human fuckdoll. A living Fleshlight that squeals and drips and spasms around my cock.

Funny enough, "don't you dare fucking cum" grunted into your ear is what makes you gasp and shudder. Your body releasing weeks of built up tension and frustration. I feel it too, you gushing around my cock. You came without permission, just like I wanted you to. Didn't it feel good? Being bad, breaking your streak, losing control like a feral little animal? It's pathetic. I'm addicted to it. It's okay, you can blame your failure to control your desperate needy cunt on me.

I know, you just couldn't hold it huh? Shush now, it's alright. It was so intense huh? That's why you're quivering even as you beg and apologize over and over. You're so cute, how can I stay mad at you?

Not to worry, doll. We'll just edge you for even longer next time. It takes time to get used to these things, after all.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Forever & Always

Summary: At 28-years-old Spencer Reid finally has his first girlfriend, you. You are bold, confident, and experienced, everything he's not, and he feels very insecure because of it. You own your own nightclub, and when Sean Hotchner needs a job, you let him come and work for you. Spencer can't handle this attractive womanizer being in your space all day long. Will the two of you make it through this?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, virgin Spencer, insecurities, not trusting partner, arguing, threatening people, therapy

Word count: 22.3k

a/n: Sean Hotchner is a treat for the eyes ,, but no one will ever be better than Spencer -- genuinely one of my favorite fics !!

main masterlist

Additional warnings: grinding, finishing in pants (m), light breast play, handjob

Spencer had always been confident in his knowledge, his intelligence a constant source of reassurance in his life. But this—this was different. Sitting across from you in the dimly lit coffee shop, his eyes flickered nervously to the table, then back to you. You were animated, telling a story about your friends, your laugh bright and infectious, but Spencer found it hard to focus. His mind kept drifting back to that quiet, gnawing feeling that had been lurking for a while now. 

You were his first real girlfriend. At 28, Spencer Reid had never been in a serious relationship, at least not one that had progressed beyond awkward dates or brief romantic entanglements that always seemed to fizzle out before they even began. But you were different. You were confident, experienced in ways he wasn’t. It wasn’t just about the relationship itself. It was everything. You had dated other people before him, had your fair share of relationships and even casual hook-ups. The weight of it pressed down on him like an invisible burden, one he wasn’t sure how to navigate.

Spencer forced a smile, willing the tension in his chest to settle as you finished your story, your words floating through the air like a melody. He didn’t want to let on that something was bothering him, not when he saw how happy you looked. He couldn’t be the one to disrupt that joy. 

“Spence?” Your voice softened as you noticed the subtle shift in his expression, the way his eyes lingered on you a little too long, as if he was lost in thought. “You okay?”

He blinked, his face instantly smoothing into a look of reassurance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, his voice a bit too light. “I was just really... engaged in what you were saying. You always tell such great stories.”

Your smile brightened, the warmth of his words making you feel lighter, like you were walking on air. You chuckled, your fingers playing with the rim of your coffee cup as you gazed at him. “You smooth talker.”

Spencer returned your smile, but beneath it, a twinge of doubt lingered. He didn’t want you to think there was anything wrong—didn’t want to give away the insecurity gnawing at him. He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling unsure about something. But the thought of appearing inferior to you, of not being enough, was something he couldn’t shake.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to the internal struggle he was masking. You were just happy—so incredibly happy. In all your past relationships, there had been a constant feeling of walking on eggshells, of waiting for things to fall apart. But with Spencer, it was different. He was different. His kindness, his gentle heart, his brilliant mind—it was everything you hadn’t even realized you were searching for.

Spencer was the best person you had ever dated. And it scared you, deeply. The fear of messing things up gnawed at the back of your mind constantly. What if this ended the same way your past relationships had? What if this incredible thing you had with Spencer was fleeting, destined to crumble just like all the others?

But you didn’t want to think about that now. Not when you were sitting here with him, sharing moments that felt real, that felt good. You let out a breath, pushing away the nagging thoughts. Spencer made you feel like maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

You caught his gaze again, your eyes softening as you took him in. “You know,” you started, leaning in a little closer, “I feel so lucky to have met you, Spencer. You’re... you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever been with.”

Spencer's heart ached at your words, a bittersweet pang that settled deep in his chest. You said it with such sincerity, such affection, but all he could hear were the things that made him different in a way he didn’t want to be. Of course, he was unlike anyone else you’d been with. How could he compare to the others? He was awkward, inexperienced, and—by his own assessment—weird. The guy who overthought everything, who could recite obscure facts but had no idea how to casually flirt or initiate a kiss without rehearsing it a dozen times in his head first.

So he forced a weak smile, nodding as if your words had filled him with the same happiness they brought you. But inside, it only made him feel more out of place, like he was somehow failing at this relationship without you even knowing.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. He wanted to say more, wanted to tell you that being with you was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But instead, he let the moment pass, watching as your face lit up with excitement, diving into another story.

He focused on your words, or at least tried to. You had this way of captivating him, of pulling him into whatever you were talking about, but right now, it was harder to stay present. The feeling of inadequacy, of not being enough, pressed heavily on him. As you talked about past adventures, dates with friends, and experiences that felt so far removed from anything he’d ever known, Spencer couldn’t help as his fingers nervously tapped against the side of his cup, his mind wandering.

—

It was late, well past midnight, when you noticed Spencer’s quiet sigh as he shifted beside you in bed. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. You had been reading, but you couldn’t focus on the book in your hands. Not when you could feel the weight of something pressing down on Spencer.

You set the book aside, turning onto your side to face him, your hand resting gently on his chest. “Spence,” you whispered softly, “what’s going on?”

His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he sighed again, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm where it draped over him. “I don’t know,” he muttered, though the heaviness in his voice said otherwise.

You waited, knowing that he would open up when he was ready. That was how these late-night conversations always started. Sometimes it took a while for Spencer to find the words to express what was on his mind, and you had learned to give him that space.

Eventually, he turned his head to look at you, his brow furrowed, eyes shadowed with the insecurities he often tried to hide. “It’s just... I keep thinking about how different we are. You’ve had all these experiences, and I... haven’t. I’m still figuring things out, and sometimes I worry... I worry that it’s not enough for you. That I’m not enough.”

Your heart ached for him, the depth of his vulnerability cutting through the quiet of the night. You shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. “Spencer,” you whispered against his shoulder, “I don’t care about any of that. You being a—less experienced… doesn’t matter to me. It never has, and it never will.”

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his arms coming around you in return, but the tension in his body didn’t fully ease. “But what if... what if you change your mind? What if one day you realize I’m... I’m just not enough? I don’t know how to be what you deserve.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. “Spence, listen to me,” you said firmly but gently. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. I didn’t fall in love with you because of some checklist of experiences or expectations. I fell in love with you. All of you. The dorkiness, the brilliance, the way you look at the world. I don’t care if you never want to have sex, or if we figure it out together. What matters is that I love you, exactly as you are.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering down to where your fingers were tracing soothing circles on his chest. “I want to believe that,” he whispered, his voice so small, so fragile.

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “I know it’s hard,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. With you. Always.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing and the quiet hum of the world outside. Spencer’s grip on you tightened as if holding on to the reassurance you offered. The doubt didn’t disappear entirely—it never really did. But you could feel him relax into your embrace, letting himself lean on you, trusting in your words even if the insecurities still lingered.

“You know,” you said after a while, a playful lilt entering your voice to lighten the mood, “you’re not the only one who has insecurities, Spence.”

He turned his head, curiosity softening the edges of his earlier worry. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m terrified of messing this up. Of somehow ruining the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Your voice was light, but the truth behind it was evident.

His brow furrowed, clearly confused. “You? You’re worried about messing things up?”

You nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Yeah. Every relationship I’ve had before this… it’s ended in an unsavory way. I don’t want that to happen with us, I don’t want us to end at all. You’re different, Spencer. In the best way. And I want this to last.”

Spencer’s expression softened, a small, almost shy smile appearing on his face. “I guess we’re both a little scared, then.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, resting your forehead against his. “But we’re in this together, okay? No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out.”

He kissed you then, a tender, lingering kiss that felt like a promise. When you pulled away, he whispered, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “You deserve every bit of happiness, Spencer Reid. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Though the insecurities never fully went away, they didn’t define your relationship. Over time, those late-night conversations became a safe place for both of you, a time to share your fears and your hopes, to remind each other of what you had.

And despite the occasional moments of doubt, you and Spencer were happy—truly happy. You built a relationship that was healthy, full of love, trust, and understanding. You were a team, navigating life together, and every step forward only brought you closer.

Because, in the end, it wasn’t about who had more experience or who was more confident. It was about being there, for each other, in every way that mattered. And that was more than enough.

—

Sean Hotchner leaned against the doorframe of Aaron’s office, his disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the professional atmosphere of the BAU. His hair was longer than Aaron remembered, tousled in a way that made it look like he had just rolled out of bed. The leather jacket slung over his shoulder was worn, his jeans frayed at the edges. Aaron barely looked up from his paperwork as Sean cleared his throat, but the tension in the room was palpable.

"Sean," Aaron greeted flatly, his tone carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken frustrations. He didn’t even need to ask why his younger brother was here. Sean only showed up when he needed something.

“Aaron, man, I need help,” Sean began, already trying to soften his tone as he stepped inside. He glanced at the bullpen behind him, noticing the open door but not caring enough to close it. "I, uh, got fired from my job. Again."

Aaron’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching around the pen he held. "And?"

"And I lost my apartment," Sean continued, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have anywhere to go. I was hoping… I could crash with you for a bit. Just until I get back on my feet."

Aaron finally looked up, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied his brother. His fingers drummed impatiently against the desk as he exhaled through his nose. “So, let me get this straight—you got fired, again, and now you’re asking to live with me? Sean, this is the third time. When are you going to take responsibility for your life?”

Sean shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his boots. “I know, I know. It’s just... I hit a rough patch, alright? I’ll figure it out, I just need some time.”

Aaron’s frustration boiled just beneath the surface, his voice rising slightly, enough that it carried out into the bullpen. “You always say that, Sean. ‘I’ll figure it out.’ But you never do. I can’t keep bailing you out every time you screw up.”

In the bullpen, the conversation didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone sat at their desks, their eyes darting toward Aaron’s office. Emily leaned over to JJ, lowering her voice but not enough to hide her words.

“Is that Hotch’s brother?” Emily whispered, her eyes widening as she watched Sean from across the room.

JJ nodded, her gaze flicking between Aaron’s stern expression and Sean’s slouched posture. “Yeah, that’s Sean. He hasn’t been around in a while.”

Penelope, standing nearby, leaned in with wide, curious eyes. “Okay, but, uh... is it just me or is Sean... kind of hot?”

Emily raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on her lips. “Oh, it’s not just you. He’s definitely got that... bad boy thing going on.”

JJ chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You two are terrible.”

Penelope shrugged dramatically. “What? I mean, I’ve heard stories, but I didn’t know Hotch had such an attractive brother! Seriously, if I didn’t know better, I’d be thinking some very impure thoughts right now.”

“Garcia,” JJ admonished lightly, but she was clearly amused.

They all tried to suppress their laughter, watching as Aaron’s stern voice carried into the bullpen, his frustration with Sean evident. But they couldn’t help the whispered commentary as Sean stood there, looking like the picture of trouble.

“I’d hate to see what Hotch is going to do to him once that door closes,” Emily mused, shaking her head. “But I have to admit, he’s got a certain... charm.”

Penelope wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “Maybe I should go in there and offer him some moral support.”

JJ rolled her eyes, grinning. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what he needs right now.”

Back in the office, Aaron had stood up, his hands planted firmly on his desk as he glared at Sean. "You need to grow up, Sean. This can’t keep happening. I’ve got Jack to think about now. I’m not running a halfway house."

Sean's shoulders slumped, his voice lowering as he tried to appease his brother. "I know, Aaron. But I don’t have anyone else. Please, just this one last time. I swear I won’t mess it up."

Aaron ran a hand over his face, torn between anger and the sense of duty he always felt toward his family, no matter how much they disappointed him. His voice softened slightly, but only just. “This is the last time, Sean. I mean it.”

Sean gave a small nod, grateful but visibly embarrassed, as he mumbled, “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

As he turned to leave the office, the gossiping trio quickly straightened up, trying to look busy. But as Sean made his way toward the exit, Penelope couldn’t resist shooting one last glance, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean... Hotch’s brother, right? Who knew?”

JJ stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she turned back to her paperwork. Meanwhile, Emily just smiled knowingly, her eyes trailing after Sean for a moment longer before settling back into work.

No one noticed Spencer sitting at his desk behind them, listening to every word.

—

That evening you and Spencer sat across from each other at your dining table, plates of food between you, but Spencer’s voice held an unusual tension as he recounted the events of the day. His fork poked absentmindedly at his meal, his eyes flickering between you and his plate as he spoke.

“So, Sean Hotchner showed up at the bureau today,” Spencer began, his tone neutral but carrying an undercurrent of something heavier. “Apparently, he’s having a tough time. Lost his job again.”

You tilted your head slightly, setting your fork down to give him your full attention. “Sean? Aaron’s younger brother, right?”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah. He’s... been bouncing around, trying to figure things out. He came to Hotch for help, and it sounds like he’s pretty desperate.”

You sighed softly, a familiar pang tugging at your heart. You knew that feeling all too well—the desperation, the uncertainty of trying to rebuild when everything felt like it was crumbling. “That’s rough. I feel for him. It’s not easy trying to make something of yourself when you’ve hit rock bottom.”

Spencer glanced at you, his brows knitting together slightly. He knew your story, knew how hard you had worked to pull yourself up and build something successful out of nothing. Owning a nightclub wasn’t just a job—it was a symbol of everything you had overcome.

You took a sip of your drink, lost in thought for a moment before something clicked. “Does Sean have any bartending experience?”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh, yeah, actually. He’s worked at a few bars. That’s where he got fired from, this last place.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reached for your phone, fingers quickly typing out a message. Spencer watched, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, though his curiosity was piqued.

You looked up, still smiling as you explained, “I’m texting Hotch. I can offer Sean a working interview tomorrow at my club. We’re always looking for good bartenders, and if he’s in need, it’s worth a shot, right?”

Spencer froze, his fork hovering in mid-air, his brain scrambling to catch up with what you’d just said. He forced a smile, but there was a storm brewing inside him. Not because you had texted Hotch—Spencer had long accepted that your relationship with his boss had developed into a friendly, professional one—but because of Sean.

He had seen Sean walk into the bureau today, watched as the women in the office had practically swooned when they saw him. Sean was tall, undeniably attractive, with an easy charm that Spencer knew was irresistible. It didn’t help that Sean had a reputation. Spencer knew he had “gotten around,” experienced in ways that Spencer wasn’t. And now, Sean was going to be working for you, in your club, where you’d be seeing him regularly.

Jealousy gnawed at Spencer’s insides, dark and insidious, feeding on his deepest fears—that one day, someone else would come along. Someone like Sean. More experienced, more charming, more… everything.

But he couldn’t let you see that. He couldn’t let you know how much this was eating at him. So, instead, he plastered on a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned back in his chair.

“That’s... that’s really generous of you,” Spencer said, his voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil he felt. “I’m proud of you, honestly. It’s such a kind thing to do, helping him out like that.”

You beamed at his words, unaware of the storm raging inside him. “Well, it just makes sense, you know? If he’s a good bartender, why not give him a chance? It’s not like I’m handing him the job—he still has to prove himself.”

Spencer nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you. He could see how happy you were to be able to help, how genuine your intentions were, and it only made him feel worse for the insecurities twisting in his gut.

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “I love you, Spence,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I’m glad you’re okay with this. I was worried you might think I was overstepping by getting involved.”

Spencer swallowed hard, squeezing your hand gently. “Of course I’m okay with it,” he lied, his smile still in place. “I love you too, and I’m so proud of how much you’ve accomplished. You’re always looking out for people, giving them chances. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

You smiled again, leaning across the table to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Spence. That means a lot.”

As the conversation shifted to other topics, Spencer kept his mask firmly in place, not letting his doubts show. But deep down, that gnawing feeling refused to go away. No matter how much he tried to push it aside, the thought lingered: What if one day, you realized someone like Sean was better?

—

Sean had already impressed you the moment he walked through the doors of your nightclub, right on time for his working interview. Dressed in the attire you had specified—black from head to toe—he looked sharp and professional. You had expected someone more casual, maybe even a bit cocky given his reputation, but Sean Hotchner showed up ready to work.

Aaron had called earlier that morning, expressing his gratitude for your offer. "I really appreciate this," he had said, his voice heavy with something between relief and exhaustion. "But you don’t have to feel obligated to help Sean. He’s not your responsibility."

You had assured Aaron you didn’t mind at all. After all, you were always on the lookout for good bartenders. "Especially since I just promoted my best bartender to the VIP level," you had explained. “We’ve got space to fill, and if Sean can handle the bar, it’ll be a win-win.”

Now, as you watched Sean behind the bar, you felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. He moved with precision, taking orders smoothly, mixing drinks quickly, and keeping up with the flow of the night like a seasoned professional. It was clear he had experience, and that gave you a sense of relief. You had taken a chance on him by allowing him to skip the usual server stage, something you typically required of all new hires. But it seemed like that gamble was paying off.

You made your way over to the bar as Sean finished serving a group of customers. He noticed you approaching and straightened up, giving you a nod. "How’s it going?" you asked, leaning against the counter with an approving smile.

“So far, so good,” Sean replied, a hint of confidence in his voice. “I’m used to a fast pace. It feels good to be back behind the bar.”

You smiled, appreciating his composure. “I have to say, you’re doing a great job. I usually don’t let people jump straight to bartending, but you’ve handled everything perfectly tonight.”

Sean’s face lit up with a genuine smile, his posture relaxing a little. "Thanks, that means a lot."

You nodded, understanding the weight of those words. "I think we can skip the formalities—if you’re interested, the job’s yours."

Sean’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by the offer. "Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that," you confirmed. "You’ve shown me enough tonight. You know what you’re doing, and I could use someone like you on the team."

He blinked, momentarily taken aback by the swiftness of it all, before breaking into a grin. "Thank you. Seriously, I won’t let you down."

"You’d better not," you teased, giving him a wink. "Welcome to the team."

As Sean returned to his work, you stood back, watching him interact with customers and noticing how well he fit in with the atmosphere of the club. He was a natural behind the bar, and you were already confident in your decision. 

The next day, before the crowd came in, Aaron stopped by to check on his brother. As you greeted him, he glanced toward the bar, where Sean was preparing before what was supposed to be a busy shift.

"I have to thank you again," Aaron said, his tone sincere. "Sean needed this, more than you know."

You shook your head, brushing off the sentiment with a smile. "He’s doing a great job. Honestly, I think I’m the one who got lucky. You were right—he’s not my responsibility, but I’m happy to have him here."

Aaron gave a small, appreciative nod, his face softening. "I’ll make sure he knows how grateful he should be. You’ve done more for him than you realize."

You smiled, watching as Sean continued his work, his focus sharp and his movements steady. "He’s earned it, Aaron. I’m glad I took the chance."

Later that night, the club was in full swing, lights flashing in sync with the beat of the music, and the energy was palpable. People crowded the dance floor, moving to the rhythm, while others clustered around the bar, talking and laughing as they sipped their drinks. You navigated the floor easily, greeting regulars and keeping an eye on how things were running. It was a typical Friday night—lively, loud, and just the way you liked it.

In the center of the dance floor, Derek and Emily were having the time of their lives. Derek had drawn Emily out to dance almost as soon as they arrived, and now the two were lost in the music. Emily laughed as Derek spun her around, her dark hair flying as she moved effortlessly with him. Their laughter echoed even over the thumping bass, and it was clear that they were in their element, shaking off the stress of the week.

“Come on, Em! You can do better than that!” Derek teased, flashing her that playful grin he was famous for.

“Oh, you think so?” Emily shot back, her competitive side kicking in as she matched his dance moves with a flick of her hips. “Watch and learn, Morgan.”

Nearby, JJ stood at a high-top table, sipping a cocktail while watching them, shaking her head with an amused smile. “They’re ridiculous,” she said, laughing softly.

“They’re having fun,” Penelope added, her eyes glowing with excitement as she scanned the room. “This place is amazing! Y/N has really outdone herself!”

But Spencer was quieter than the rest, standing a little farther back from the group, his drink untouched in his hand as his eyes remained locked on the bar where Sean worked. He wasn’t dancing or chatting like the others; his focus was entirely on you and Sean. Spencer’s jaw tightened slightly as he watched the two of you exchanging easy conversation. You stood at the bar, laughing at something Sean said as he mixed drinks with practiced ease.

Sean was good, no doubt about it. He looked completely in his element behind the bar, effortlessly charming customers as he handed out drinks, his smile quick and easy. And there you were, standing beside him, looking equally relaxed and at home in your own nightclub. You smiled at Sean, gave him a friendly nudge as you helped out, your laughter ringing out above the hum of the crowd.

Spencer’s grip on his glass tightened just a fraction.

"Spence?" JJ’s voice pulled him out of his spiral. She was looking at him with concern, her head tilted slightly. "You good?"

Spencer quickly forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

JJ gave him a knowing look but didn’t press further. “You sure? You’ve been staring at the bar for a while now.”

Spencer swallowed, forcing his gaze away from the scene. “Just... keeping an eye on things,” he said, trying to sound casual.

But his eyes drifted back, drawn to the way you leaned in close to talk to Sean, laughing easily at something he said. Spencer clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the irrational jealousy. He didn’t want to feel this way—not when he trusted you so deeply. But the insecurities simmered just beneath the surface, no matter how much he tried to tamp them down.

At the bar, you noticed Spencer’s gaze from across the room, giving him a quick wave and a bright smile, unaware of the storm brewing in his head. Spencer waved back, forcing himself to return your smile, but his heart was still heavy with the weight of his unspoken fears.

As Derek and Emily continued to dance, their carefree energy a stark contrast to the tension building inside Spencer, he tried to push his jealousy aside. He wanted to trust in what you had, to remind himself that you loved him, not Sean.

But as he watched you lean against the bar, your attention completely on Sean as he worked, Spencer couldn’t help but feel that gnawing insecurity settle deeper in his chest.

Spencer’s eyes flickered toward you again as you moved across the club, checking on customers, making sure everything was running smoothly. Even in your all-black uniform, which was meant to look professional, you somehow made it look effortlessly chic. The fitted black blazer, the lace tights, and that sleek skirt—it all came together in a way that caught people's attention. And it wasn’t just the customers. Spencer saw how Sean’s gaze lingered a little too long every time you walked away, his eyes drifting down to the hem of your skirt, to the low neckline of your top.

It didn’t sit right with Spencer. He tried to tell himself that Sean wasn’t doing anything out of line—he was just looking, and maybe that was normal. You looked amazing, after all. But it gnawed at him, the way Sean’s eyes followed you, the way he smiled that easy, flirtatious smile at customers and coworkers alike. There was something too comfortable about the way Sean was acting, and Spencer couldn’t shake the irritation growing in his chest.

JJ was talking with Penelope next to him, her attention catching on Sean’s antics at the bar. She chuckled, leaning closer to Spencer, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Classic Sean,” she said, shaking her head as she watched him chat up a group of women by the bar. “Talking up every person within earshot.”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He didn’t find it funny. His fingers gripped his drink a little tighter, his jaw tensing as he tried to ignore the bubbling jealousy rising inside him. Sean wasn’t just talking to the women, he was clearly charming them, making them giggle and blush with every word.

Why did I even come tonight? Spencer thought to himself. Maybe staying home would have been the better option. Watching Sean work the bar—watching him charm the customers, and worse, watching him look at you—was a slow burn of frustration that Spencer didn’t know how to handle.

JJ nudged him lightly with her elbow. “You sure you’re alright, Spence?”

He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I promise, I’m fine,” he said quietly, though his thoughts were far from fine.

He didn’t want to seem insecure, didn’t want to show just how much Sean’s presence was bothering him. But it was hard to shake the image of Sean’s lingering glances, the flirtatious air about him, and the unsettling thought that maybe, just maybe, Sean was good for you in ways that Spencer wasn’t.

As you made your way over to Spencer and his friends, completely unaware of the internal storm that had been brewing inside your boyfriend all night, your smile brightened when you saw him. “Hi, baby,” you said sweetly, leaning down to give Spencer a quick peck on the lips.

But to your surprise, instead of the brief kiss you were expecting, Spencer’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you in closer as he deepened the kiss. His lips lingered on yours longer than usual, and the intensity of the gesture caught you off guard. You could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of your blazer, the possessiveness in his grip that was unlike him, especially in public.

When you finally pulled back, slightly dazed, your cheeks flushed as you whispered, “Damn, baby, what did I do to deserve that?” You playfully tucked a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, grinning at him.

Spencer’s grip on you didn’t falter. In fact, he pulled you even closer, positioning you between his spread thighs from where he sat on the stool. His gaze was soft, but there was something in his eyes, something deeper. “You just look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling heat rise to your face. Spencer wasn’t usually so bold, so forward—especially not in front of other people. The sweet boy you loved was often shy, reserved, but this moment? This was different. It was as if he was trying to show you something, stake a quiet claim that you couldn’t quite understand.

You gave him another quick kiss, smiling softly against his lips before pulling back. “Well, thank you,” you said, feeling your own cheeks flush. You glanced at the group with a bright smile before excusing yourself to check on a few things at the bar. As you walked away, Spencer’s eyes followed you, his hand still resting on his thigh, feeling the lingering warmth where he’d held you close.

No sooner had you disappeared from view than Penelope was already nudging Spencer with a playful grin. “Spencer Reid!” she teased, her voice brimming with amusement as she lightly slapped his shoulder. “Save it for later, horn dog!”

Spencer felt his entire face turn scarlet, his heart pounding with embarrassment. He wasn’t trying to be… well, that! But the way Penelope’s eyes twinkled, the implication that she thought the two of you were all over each other in that way, made him squirm in his seat.

“Oh, come on, don’t blush, pretty boy,” Penelope giggled, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “You’ve been staring at her all night. We know what’s on your mind.”

JJ joined in, her laugh warm and teasing. “Yeah, Spence, is that why you’ve been keeping an eye on her all night? Can’t wait to get Y/N all to yourself later?”

Spencer wished he could disappear into thin air. He shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the heat rising to his ears. “Something like that,” he muttered, but the truth weighed heavier on him than he wanted to admit.

It wasn’t that Spencer wasn’t physically attracted to you—he adored every part of you—but the teasing only made him feel more inadequate, more aware of the gap between your experience and his. The others didn’t know. They had no idea that he hadn’t crossed the line into physical intimacy with you yet, despite your relationship being serious, despite you having already moved in together and said “I love you.” 

Most couples would have by now, he thought bitterly. And everyone else, Penelope and JJ included—they probably assumed you two were just like everyone else, that he was just another guy in a committed relationship. The teasing implied as much.

But Spencer knew the truth, and it gnawed at him—those dark fears he kept bottled up, that you would eventually find someone more experienced, more capable, someone who could offer you more than he ever could.

The soft click of the door echoed through the apartment as you stepped inside, already feeling the exhaustion from the long night creeping in. It was well past 3:00 a.m., the time when the world was quiet, and you expected the same from your apartment. Usually, Spencer would be fast asleep by now, his rhythmic breathing a comforting sound you’d find when you crawled into bed after closing the club. But tonight, as you set your bag down and kicked off your heels, you were surprised to see the warm glow of a lamp in the living room.

Spencer was sitting in his favorite green armchair, the soft pages of a book resting in his lap as he looked up, a sleepy but genuine grin spreading across his face. The sight of him there, waiting for you, made your heart swell. His hair was slightly disheveled, his long fingers trailing off the edge of the chair as he beckoned you closer with open arms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice warm and low, the kind of greeting that made you feel instantly at home.

You couldn’t resist the invitation, crossing the room in a few quick strides before slipping into his arms, settling into the chair with him. “Hi, my love,” you sighed, leaning into his warmth, your face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you inhaled his familiar scent. The combination of coffee and books was something uniquely Spencer, and it always made you feel safe.

“How was closing?” he asked, his voice gentle as his hand moved to stroke your back in slow, soothing circles.

You shivered lightly at his touch, enjoying the familiar rhythm of his fingers. “It was fine,” you murmured, your breath soft against his neck. “Sean is so much faster than Amber was. It makes things a lot easier.”

As soon as the words left your lips, you felt it. The way Spencer’s body tensed beneath you, the way his hand paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. You didn’t think much of it at first—maybe he was just tired—but then his touch changed. The gentle strokes on your back turned into something more deliberate, more intent as his hand slid lower.

“Hmmm,” Spencer hummed, his tone almost too casual. “I’m glad he’s been helpful.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but your thoughts trailed off as Spencer’s hand slid down further, past the small of your back, coming to rest on your thigh. His fingers pressed into the fabric there, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a shiver through you. At first, you didn’t think much of it—Spencer’s touch was always affectionate, but this felt different.

“Yeah, he really has been—” Your sentence was cut short as Spencer’s hand traveled higher, his fingers brushing over your ass with a boldness that caught you off guard. His touch was unmistakable now, filled with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing from your typically gentle and reserved boyfriend.

You lifted your head, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for the meaning behind this sudden shift. His gaze was dark, filled with something you hadn’t seen before—jealousy and possessiveness that simmered just beneath the surface.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asked, his voice a little rougher than usual, his hand still resting firmly on your body.

You blinked, your heart racing a little faster as you processed his question. “Yeah, baby, of course,” you whispered, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb. You gave him a reassuring smile, letting him know there was nothing to be uncertain about. “You can touch me anywhere.”

At your words, you felt something shift in Spencer. A quiet storm brewing behind his soft exterior, flared up. His hand flexed against you, and you could see it in his eyes now—he was staking his claim, reminding himself, and maybe even you, that he was the one who had the right to be close to you like this.

He was the one allowed to touch you, to hold you, to love you. Not Sean, not anyone else. Only him.

Without another word, Spencer pulled you closer, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to make sure you understood. You weren’t sure where this sudden intensity came from, but it made your heart race in a different way. This wasn’t the soft, shy Spencer you were used to. This was something deeper, something more primal. And for a moment, you were both wrapped up in it, the quiet room charged with unspoken tension.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, slow and tender, hoping to ease whatever storm was brewing inside him. “Spence,” you whispered against his lips, “I’m yours.”

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest as the moment stretched between you. He had always felt a deep sense of attraction for you, but acting on it had been something he’d carefully avoided—out of nervousness, out of insecurity. But tonight there was something about the way you had reassured him, the way you said he could touch you, that ignited a new kind of confidence in him. 

He leaned down, closing the space between you, and kissed you with a passion that surprised even him. It was much like the kiss you’d shared earlier at the club, only this time there was an intensity behind it—a hunger that had been quietly building for a long time. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved with yours, no longer tentative, but sure, as though he had made a silent decision within himself.

You were taken aback for only a brief moment, but not at all upset by the new direction your night was taking. If anything, you were thrilled to see this side of him, this bolder, more assertive Spencer. You brought both hands up to cradle his face, your thumbs gently stroking his jawline as you kissed him back, pouring all your affection into the moment. His hands, meanwhile, began to roam your body, exploring what little he could in this current position, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips, your thighs. There was an eagerness in his touch, a yearning that you could feel pulsing from him.

You could sense that he wanted more, that he wasn’t sure how to ask for it, but you knew. You knew exactly what he needed. Without a word, you sat up from where you were nestled in his lap, moving slowly so you could shift your position. You swung one leg over him, straddling his lap and settling back down, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Then, with a teasing smile, you took his hands in yours, guiding them back to where he seemed to want them the most—onto your ass. 

“Better?” you asked, your smirk playful, though your heart was racing just as fast as his.

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, the weight of your body on his lap combined with the newfound freedom in his touch making him dizzy with need. His fingers instinctively squeezed the flesh beneath them, reveling in the feeling of holding you like this, of having you so close.

“Much,” he managed to say, his voice weak with desire, his eyes wide as he looked up at you. He leaned forward again, capturing your lips in another kiss, more urgent this time. His hands tightened around you, holding you as if afraid you might slip away. You could feel the tension in his body as he leaned into the kiss, the way he was holding back so much yet giving in more than he ever had before.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the heat between you building as his hands roamed your back, your thighs, then found their way back to your ass, squeezing you with newfound confidence. He wasn’t just nervous Spencer anymore—he was Spencer who wanted you, and that thought made you smile against his lips.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to catch your breath and look into his eyes. His gaze was filled with a mix of awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening, yet he was determined to take the leap.

“I love this side of you,” you whispered, your fingers brushing through his hair as you leaned your forehead against his. “But we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

As you whispered those reassuring words, you saw the subtle flicker of doubt flash across Spencer’s face. His confidence, which had been so bold a moment ago, seemed to waver. You could practically see the question forming in his mind—Did you not want this? Was he misreading the situation? 

You were quick to close the gap between his fear and your truth. “I want to do everything with you, baby,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly, your lips brushing against his with tender intent. Then, in a playful move, you gently bit down on his bottom lip, just enough to make him whine, a small, needy sound escaping his throat that sent a thrill through you. “I just don’t want to rush anything,” you continued, your voice soothing but firm. “We have all the time in the world.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, making sure your next words landed where they needed to. “I am not going anywhere, okay? You don’t have to worry about that.”

Spencer’s chest rose and fell with the deep breath he took, his gaze softening as your words sank in. He nodded, his hand still resting possessively on your waist. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath but carrying the full weight of his emotions.

You smiled at him, a loving, genuine smile that only deepened his feelings. “I love you more,” you whispered back before leaning down to kiss him again.

In that moment, the kiss was everything. Soft, slow, reassuring, full of the love and trust that you’d both built together. But then, as you shifted in his lap, your body moved instinctively—rolling your hips ever so slightly. You hadn’t meant to, but the unmistakable hardness beneath you pressed against your core, causing a delicious friction that neither of you expected.

Spencer whimpered into your mouth, the sound raw and unrestrained, his hips jerking upward involuntarily in response to the sudden, new form of pleasure. The sensation seemed to spark something deep inside him, a rush of need that had been bubbling under the surface for so long. You felt his fingers tighten on your waist, his breath hitching as he chased the friction, his body moving beneath you as if on autopilot.

The way Spencer reacted to the brief touch, the soft sounds of desperation coming from him, sent a thrill through your own body. You could feel the heat rising between you both, the chemistry shifting from sweet to something more electric. Your lips hovered just above his, your breath mingling with his as you caught the look in his eyes—dark, yearning, and yet still so full of love.

You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring every second as your hands cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Spence…” you whispered, his name a quiet plea on your lips, “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Mhm,” he whined softly, eyes closed as he leaned into the feeling, chasing the sensation your touch brought him. His body responded instinctively, moving with you, completely lost in the moment.

You were just about to suggest something more, thinking about shedding some of the clothing between you, when suddenly, Spencer stilled beneath you. His entire body tensed, and before you could ask what was wrong, he let out a long, unexpected moan. You felt it—an undeniable wetness seeping through your tights. 

Spencer’s eyes shot open in mortification, his face flushing crimson as he realized what had just happened. Panic set in immediately, and without a word, he scrambled out from under you, pushing you off gently but urgently as he bolted toward the bathroom. 

You barely had time to process what had happened before he disappeared behind the door. The sound of it closing echoed through the quiet apartment, leaving you sitting there, still feeling the heat of the moment but now overtaken by concern. You stood up, adjusting yourself and taking a deep breath, your mind quickly shifting from your own arousal to Spencer’s sudden distress.

You followed him to the bathroom, heart heavy as you heard him breathing heavily on the other side of the door. Gently, you knocked, your voice soft and filled with care. “Spencer? Honey, are you okay?”

A sniffle came from the other side, a sound that broke your heart. “No,” he whimpered, his voice small, ashamed.

You leaned your forehead against the door, trying to offer him comfort without pushing too hard. “Can I come in?” you asked, your tone gentle and filled with reassurance.

“No,” he answered again, his voice cracking, clearly embarrassed.

You sighed softly, wanting nothing more than to hold him, to make sure he knew there was nothing to be ashamed of. “Why not, baby?” you asked, your voice soft but persistent.

Spencer hesitated, his breath shaky as he tried to find the words. “Because... because I... I... ruined it,” he stammered, his voice thick with tears.

Your heart broke at his words. Ruined it? There was nothing to ruin. You leaned against the door more firmly, wanting him to hear the sincerity in your voice. “Spencer,” you said softly, “you didn’t ruin anything, my love. Please let me in. We can talk about it, okay?”

He sniffled again, his breathing still shaky. You could hear him shifting on the other side, his back still pressed against the door. “I... I couldn’t control it. I didn’t mean to... it’s so embarrassing,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you reassured him, feeling your own heart ache for him. “It’s normal. It happens. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise.”

There was a pause, and you could hear him take a deep breath, as if he was trying to gather himself. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.

Slowly, you opened the door and found Spencer standing there, his eyes red-rimmed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. His gaze dropped to the floor, avoiding yours out of sheer mortification. Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

He hesitated at first, still feeling the weight of his embarrassment, but eventually, his arms came around you, holding on tightly as if you were his lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into your shoulder, his voice muffled and thick with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. Your eyes were filled with nothing but love and understanding. “Spencer, you don’t have to be sorry,” you said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He blinked at you, clearly still struggling to accept that. “But... it was... I didn’t even—”

“Shh,” you soothed him, gently placing a finger against his lips, your voice soft but reassuring. “How about we focus on how that felt, yeah?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, tilting his head at you, still unsure how to navigate this moment. His embarrassment was still fresh, but your calmness helped ease the tension that had built up inside him.

“Did it feel good, baby?” you asked, your tone gentle and coaxing. “Like something you’d want to try again?”

There was a moment of hesitation before the realization hit Spencer—what you were doing. You weren’t focusing on his embarrassment, his mistake. You were helping him see past it, guiding him back to what mattered: the feeling you had shared, the intimacy of the moment. His heart swelled with gratitude, a soft warmth spreading through his chest.

“Yes,” he said softly, his voice filled with relief and sincerity. “It did.”

You smiled up at him, and that smile was all it took to melt the remaining tension in his body. Leaning in, you kissed him, a slow and tender kiss filled with the reassurance that everything was okay, that he was okay. “I liked it too,” you whispered against his lips. “Maybe we can do that again soon?”

Spencer’s lips quirked into a small smile, more confident this time. “I would like that,” he admitted, his voice steady, a little more sure of himself.

Your heart swarmed with affection as you pulled him close, pressing your cheek against his as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck, his body relaxing into yours. You gently rubbed his back, feeling the tension ease from his muscles as he sighed against your skin.

“Do you want to shower, Spence?” you asked softly, your hand trailing soothing patterns up and down his back.

Spencer nuzzled closer to you, his voice a low mumble into your skin. “Together?”

You smiled, kissing the top of his head. “We can,” you hummed, “but if that’s too much right now, I don’t mind leaving. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Spencer shook his head rapidly, pulling you closer. “Don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Okay, okay,” you soothed, your fingers still brushing lightly across his back. “I won’t leave. We can shower together.”

Spencer sighed happily, his arms tightening around you as if to confirm that you were staying, that you weren’t going anywhere. He pressed a soft kiss to your neck before mumbling, “Just… don’t look at my penis, please?”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up, but you quickly reassured him, kissing his cheek as you whispered, “Of course, my love. My eyes will stay on your face.”

With that promise, Spencer relaxed further into you, his trust in you deepening with every passing second. The shame and embarrassment from earlier slowly dissolved, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you accepted him fully, without judgment. You held him for a moment longer, your arms wrapped securely around him.

The shower was filled with steam and laughter, the sound of water splashing mixing with your playful giggles and Spencer’s rare, carefree chuckles. It was the first time you had shared the shower, a new experience that was turning out to be much more fun than either of you had expected. Usually, one of you would sit outside on the toilet, talking through the curtain while the other showered. But now, the barrier was gone, and the playful side of both of you was in full swing.

You couldn’t resist puffing your cheeks full of water and spitting it in Spencer’s direction, making him laugh out loud as droplets hit his chest. “Hey!” he protested, though his grin betrayed him as he retaliated with a splash of his own, his hands sending a wave of water your way.

You laughed, dodging the water as best as you could, enjoying this lighthearted, silly moment between you two. It was refreshing to see Spencer like this, so relaxed, his usual careful demeanor replaced with playful mischief.

But there was something else too. Spencer tried his hardest to keep his eyes on your face—his eyes darting up quickly whenever they drifted a little lower. You couldn’t help but giggle each time he looked away, a blush creeping up his neck, his face flushed for reasons beyond just the heat of the shower.

After the fourth or fifth time of catching him sneaking a glance only to immediately avert his eyes, you decided to call him out on it. “Spencer,” you giggled, crossing your arms over your chest playfully. “I am your girlfriend, you know?”

Spencer looked back at you, his brow furrowing in that adorable, confused way he did when he was trying to figure something out. “I know that, why are you asking?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, genuinely perplexed.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his expression, shaking your head in amusement. “Because, you big dork,” you cackled, “you’re allowed to look at my boobs! You can even touch them if you want!”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his blush deepening as he processed your words. “I—well, I just didn’t want to... I mean...” He stammered, looking flustered but also a little curious, his gaze flickering down before darting back up to your eyes. “I didn’t want to seem disrespectful.”

You burst out laughing, stepping closer to him, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Spence,” you said between your giggles, “you could never be disrespectful. Trust me.”

He blinked, still looking a little unsure but also charmed by your playfulness. “I... I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, his lips curving into a shy smile.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, moving his hands from your waist to your chest with a smirk. “Here, I’ll even help you.”

Spencer’s face turned crimson as he felt the softness beneath his hands, his fingers lightly tracing over your skin as if he were still processing what was happening. His touch was tentative, delicate, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his nose. “See? Not so scary, right?”

He swallowed, finally letting himself relax a little, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “Not scary,” he echoed softly, his eyes filled with a mix of wonder and affection. Then, as if realizing the silliness of it all, he let out a small laugh, shaking his head at himself.

You both stood there in the warmth of the shower, your bodies close, the steam curling around you as Spencer finally allowed himself to look, to touch, to enjoy this new level of intimacy with you. It was another step in your relationship, one that made both of you feel more connected, more comfortable with each other.

But as always, you couldn’t resist keeping the moment light. With a mischievous grin, you puffed your cheeks full of water again and spat it playfully in Spencer’s direction, causing him to sputter in surprise and laugh as he wiped his face.

“Hey!” he laughed, shaking his head as water dripped from his hair. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, backing up against the wall of the shower with a grin. “What are you gonna do about it, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer, the playful dynamic back in full swing, earlier embarrassment long forgotten. It was just the two of you now, laughing, teasing, and enjoying each other in the most carefree way. And that, in the end, was what made this moment perfect.

—

As the weeks rolled on, Spencer found himself spending more and more time at your nightclub. It had become a routine for him during his free weekends, a way to be closer to you. On the busier nights, he would sit at the bar, watching you work, admiring the way you effortlessly ran the place. And on weeknights, when you invited the bartenders in during closed hours to practice making new drinks, Spencer would linger in the background, quietly observing.

But each time he visited, something gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the crowd, the music, or the dim lighting of the club—it was Sean. At first, Spencer tried to brush it off. He chalked it up to Sean’s naturally charming personality, how bartenders often carried themselves with confidence, flirting with customers as part of the job. But now, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like there was something more.

Sean’s eyes seemed to linger on you longer than they should, or at least that’s how it appeared to Spencer. Over the past few weeks, with Spencer spending more time at the club, he became convinced that Sean had started flirting with you. His words seemed just a bit too smooth, his smiles lingered a little too long. Spencer couldn’t ignore the casual way Sean would lean in when he spoke to you or how he seemed overly attentive whenever you checked in at the bar.

What Spencer didn’t know, however, was that Sean had recently confided in you about his lack of attraction to women. While he wasn’t out of the closet yet, he wanted to make sure his playful, flirtatious behavior was never misunderstood. It was all in good fun, a way to keep the atmosphere light and easy at work, and he trusted you enough to share his truth, knowing it wouldn’t affect your friendship or professional relationship.

One night, after a long day, you and Spencer were curled up on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as the two of you settled into your usual post-work relaxation. You were absentmindedly playing with Spencer’s hand while a TV show played in the background, the glow of the screen filling the cozy living room. But Spencer’s mind wasn’t on the show. His thoughts were elsewhere—back at the club, and back on Sean.

“Hey…” Spencer began, his voice hesitant as his fingers traced small circles on your knee.

You looked over at him, smiling softly. “Yeah, babe?”

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to sound paranoid, but the thought had been eating away at him for days now. “I think… I think Sean’s been flirting with you.”

You blinked, taken aback by his statement. “What? Sean?” The idea made you laugh—not to be dismissive of Spencer’s feelings, but the thought of Sean flirting with you, his boss, was almost comical. “Spence, no way.”

He frowned slightly, feeling a bit vulnerable after putting it out there. “I’m serious. He looks at you… and I’ve heard him make little comments. I don’t know, it just feels like he’s always trying to get your attention in a certain way.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, though your tone was softer this time, recognizing the seriousness in his voice. “Baby, bartenders flirt. It’s literally part of the job. They flirt with everyone—it doesn’t mean anything.”

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly. He knew you didn’t mean to dismiss his concern, but it stung a little. “Yeah, I know, but… it’s different with him. I see the way he acts around you. It’s not the same as with other people.”

You shifted, sitting up a bit to face him, brushing a hand through his hair. “Spencer, I promise you, Sean’s just doing his job. If he’s flirting, he’s doing it with every customer that walks through the door.” You smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss him softly. “And even if he was flirting with me, it wouldn’t matter. You’re the only one I have eyes for.”

Your words were meant to reassure him, but Spencer still felt that unease. He didn’t doubt your loyalty or love for him, but there was something about Sean that bothered him. He could sense it—the subtle charm, the lingering glances that made his stomach twist with jealousy. But he didn’t want to seem overly paranoid or insecure, especially not after you had laughed off the idea. So, instead of pushing it further, Spencer just nodded, giving you a weak smile in return.

“Yeah… you’re probably right,” he murmured, though the knot in his chest hadn’t untangled.

You kissed him again, resting your head on his shoulder. “Of course I’m right. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

But even as you both settled back into your cozy position, Spencer couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. He didn’t want to keep bringing it up, didn’t want to seem annoyingly jealous or insecure, so he kept it bottled up after that night, silently watching from the sidelines each time he visited the club. But each time Sean’s eyes lingered too long on you, or every time Spencer caught the slight inflection in Sean’s voice when he spoke to you, the feeling festered inside him, unresolved.

—

Spencer hadn't realized just how much his pent-up frustration was affecting him—at least, not until the team started to notice. What began as subtle shifts in his demeanor during interrogations had gradually turned into something much more obvious. Spencer had always been the calm, logical one. The genius with a kind heart, who often sought to understand unsubs and their motivations. But recently, something had changed.

During takedowns, Spencer's grip on suspects was firmer, his actions more aggressive than they needed to be. When it came to interviews and interrogations, he was no longer the patient profiler with a steady voice. His words were sharp, cold, and sometimes downright cutting. He'd lean in too close, his eyes dark with intensity, and his voice would drop to a low, threatening tone that made even the most hardened criminals flinch. He became a version of himself that no one on the team recognized.

It all came to a head when they brought in a person of interest—someone who wasn’t even officially connected to the crime yet, just a potential witness. The woman had been nervous enough as it was, but the moment Spencer stepped into the interrogation room, his usual warmth and understanding were gone. Instead, he stared her down, his eyes hard, his tone biting as he drilled her with questions. The more she stammered, the harsher he became, until finally, the woman broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

Hotch had seen enough. The moment Spencer walked out of the interrogation room, his jaw tight and his hands clenched at his sides, Hotch made the decision to pull him aside.

“Reid, conference room. Now.”

Spencer barely glanced up, his frustration still evident, but he followed Hotch without a word. The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances as they watched him disappear into the room, the door closing firmly behind them.

Hotch turned to face Spencer, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. "What the hell is going on with you, Reid?" His voice was stern but not unkind, giving Spencer the chance to explain himself.

Spencer, still bristling with residual anger, shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what Hotch meant, but he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

“You made a person of interest cry, Spencer,” Hotch said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That woman was barely connected to the case, and you broke her down like she was the unsub. This isn’t like you.”

Spencer crossed his arms, suddenly feeling defensive. “She wasn’t cooperating. I was just trying to get the truth out of her.”

“There are ways to get the truth out of people that don’t involve scaring them,” Hotch countered. “You’ve always known that. But this—this isn’t the Reid we all know. What’s going on?”

Spencer clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to the floor. For a moment, he considered brushing it off, making some excuse about the stress of the job, but he knew Hotch wouldn’t buy it. The truth of it was, Spencer didn’t even fully understand what had been driving him lately. All he knew was that something inside him had shifted, a growing aggression that he couldn’t quite shake.

“It’s… it’s nothing,” Spencer muttered, though he knew how weak the excuse sounded.

“Reid, you and I both know that’s not true,” Hotch said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’ve been on edge for weeks. I’ve noticed it, and so has the rest of the team. Whatever’s going on with you, you need to talk about it. Before it gets worse.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. His mind raced, filled with thoughts of the one thing that had been eating away at him for weeks: Sean and the club. The jealousy, the fear, the constant feeling that he wasn’t enough. He had tried to keep it bottled up, had tried to pretend that everything was fine, but clearly, it wasn’t. And now, it was affecting his work—affecting who he was.

“I…” Spencer’s voice faltered, his throat tightening as he realized how ridiculous it might sound to Hotch. But there was no point in hiding it anymore. “It’s personal.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further, his gaze steady as he waited for Spencer to continue. The silence stretched between them, a gentle but firm reminder that Hotch was giving Spencer space to be honest.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the conversation hanging over him. He knew what Hotch was expecting, what he should say, but the truth was harder to face than he anticipated.

“I’ll talk to someone,” Spencer finally said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair in a tired gesture. His voice was laced with reluctance, but there was a genuine attempt to reassure his boss. “I promise.”

Hotch studied him for a moment longer, the skepticism clear in his eyes, though he didn’t vocalize it. He knew Spencer well enough to recognize when he was pushing something down, burying it beneath layers of self-control and avoidance. And as much as Hotch wanted to push further, he also knew that Spencer was an adult—one who had to take ownership of his own emotions.

“Alright,” Hotch finally said, his tone even. “I’m trusting you to handle this, Spencer. Don’t let it get worse.”

Spencer nodded, though a small part of him wasn’t sure if he’d follow through. But the weight of Hotch’s gaze made it clear that this conversation wouldn’t be forgotten easily.

Hotch gave a final nod, his demeanor softening just slightly as he spoke. “Take care of yourself, Reid.”

Spencer forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I will,” he said, though the truth of the promise felt heavy.

With that, the conversation ended, and Spencer made his way out of Hotch’s office, feeling the quiet pressure of everything that had built up inside him over the past few weeks. He knew he had to do something about it—he had to talk to you, or someone, before this spiral led him further down a path he didn’t want to follow.

For now, though, he’d keep the promise to himself, hoping that he’d find the strength to follow through.

—

Spencer had barely set foot through the door before you were there to greet him, your usual warmth and love surrounding him as you kissed him softly, welcoming him home. But instead of the usual sense of relief he felt in your embrace, something inside him snapped. The frustration from the case, from everything that had been building inside him, surged to the surface.

Without thinking, Spencer grabbed your face, pulling you into a deep, urgent kiss. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you were used to from him—it was rough, almost desperate. He devoured your mouth like he was trying to lose himself in you, his hands gripping you tighter than usual. You assumed it was just the result of a tough case, and maybe he just missed you. But something about the intensity of it was off.

As Spencer’s hands tugged at the hem of your shirt, right there in the walkway by the front door, you tried to pull back slightly to ask him if everything was okay. But he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care—because he kept tugging, his fingers working to get your shirt over your head.

You let him pull it off, still unsure of what was going on but trusting that Spencer wouldn’t act like this without reason. Maybe he just needed you, needed to feel close to you. But when he backed you towards the bedroom with that same roughness, something in the pit of your stomach twisted with unease.

Then, when he pushed you onto the bed—aggressively, without the usual care he always showed—alarm bells started ringing in your head.

"Spencer!" you called out, your voice louder than intended, hoping it would snap him out of whatever was happening.

But Spencer didn’t stop. If he noticed your tone, he either misread it or ignored it, because he crawled over you, his hands fumbling with your pants now, too focused on what he was doing to realize you were uncomfortable.

Panic set in then. This wasn’t your Spencer. He had never acted like this before. You pushed at his hands, your heart racing as you called out again, louder this time.

“Spencer, stop!” you shouted, finally shoving his hands away from your waist.

Spencer froze, his body going rigid above you as your words seemed to cut through the fog of whatever had taken over him. His eyes widened slightly, and you could see the mix of confusion and shame washing over his face as he registered what you had said.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked, your voice breathless but firm, your hands still on his chest to keep some distance between you.

For a moment, Spencer didn’t say anything. He looked away, the sting of rejection clear in the way his shoulders slumped and his hands fell limply to his sides. “Nothing,” he muttered, his voice quiet and defensive.

You sat up, pulling your shirt back on, your concern growing with every second that passed. “It’s obviously something, Spence. You’ve never acted like this before.”

Spencer kept his eyes down, not meeting your gaze. “I just… I just missed you,” he mumbled, though you could tell there was more to it than that. The way he was avoiding your eyes, the tension in his body—it all told you that this wasn’t just about missing you.

You reached for his hand, gently pulling him to sit down on the bed beside you. “I know you missed me,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone calm and reassuring. “But this isn’t like you. Please, talk to me.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might stay silent. But then, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if he was trying to push away whatever emotions were swirling inside him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted quietly, his voice thick with frustration. “I’ve just… I’ve been feeling so off lately. Angry. Insecure. And I keep telling myself not to, but… I can’t stop thinking about Sean, and how he looks at you, and how much better he is at everything, and—” He stopped abruptly, his hands clenching into fists in his lap as he tried to control the storm of emotions building inside him.

You blinked, finally starting to piece together the reason behind his behavior. “Spence, this is about Sean?”

Spencer’s shoulders sagged, his silence confirming your suspicions. He finally looked up at you, and in his eyes, you saw all the fear, jealousy, and insecurity he had been trying to hide for weeks.

“I know it’s stupid,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I know you love me, and I know he’s just a bartender at your club, but… I can’t stop feeling like I’m not enough. Like you’ll realize you could have someone… better.”

Your heart broke at his words. You cupped his face gently, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Spencer,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “You are more than enough. I love you. There is no one better for me. Sean is just a coworker. You’re the man I want, please believe me.”

Spencer sat back on his heels, looking down at his hands, feeling the weight of his own frustration and shame. He had never wanted to make you uncomfortable, never wanted to act like this, but the jealousy that had been building inside him finally broke through. Now, here he was, on the edge of ruining something so precious to him.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we talked about it, and I know you don’t see Sean that way. It’s just… it’s so hard, watching him flirt with you every day. And you don’t stop him. It feels like… like I’m not enough.”

You sat up, still catching your breath from the intensity of the moment, but your heart ached hearing his words. You hadn’t realized how deep his insecurities ran. The playful flirting from Sean, which you had brushed off as part of the job, had been festering inside Spencer for weeks, and you hadn’t seen it.

“Spencer, baby,” you started, your voice gentle but firm as you reached for his hand. “You are enough. More than enough. I don’t let him flirt with me because I want him to, or because I’m interested. It’s his job to be friendly, charming even, but that’s all it is. I don’t see Sean the way I see you. I only have eyes for you.”

Spencer looked up at you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “But what if one day… what if one day you change your mind?” he asked softly, the fear evident in his voice. “What if one day, you find someone who’s more… experienced, more everything?”

You cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “That’s not going to happen, Spencer,” you said firmly. “I love you. Not because of experience, or because of anything physical, but because of who you are. You’re kind, brilliant, thoughtful, and you make me happier than I’ve ever been. No one else even comes close.”

Spencer swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to… to act like that. I just—I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You stroked his cheek, offering him a small, understanding smile. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. “But we need to talk about these things, okay? If you’re feeling like this, I want to know. I don’t want you to keep it bottled up until it explodes like this.”

Spencer nodded, his head dipping down as he let out a shaky breath. “I know. I just… I didn’t want to seem weak.”

“You’re not weak, Spencer,” you said softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. “Being vulnerable doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

He let out a long sigh, his body finally relaxing as the tension drained out of him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as if he were afraid to let go.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your skin.

“I love you too, Spencer,” you whispered back, holding him just as tightly. "Always."

Later that evening, after Spencer had unpacked his things and taken a long, soothing bath, the two of you settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a movie playing softly in the background. The warm, familiar glow of your living room felt comforting, but you couldn’t help but notice how hesitant Spencer was. He sat beside you, his body tense, his hands resting awkwardly in his lap, as though he was afraid to touch you. 

It broke your heart to see him like this, to see him so uncertain. You knew he still felt guilty about what had happened earlier, worried that he had somehow ruined everything.

“Honey,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the quiet. “You can still hold me, you know… or if you’d rather, do you want me to hold you?”

Spencer looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and hesitation. But then, slowly, he nodded, his expression softening as he shifted on the couch. He leaned over, laying his head gently in your lap, and you couldn’t help but smile at how vulnerable and sweet he looked in that moment.

As soon as his head was settled, you instinctively began playing with his hair, your fingers threading through the soft strands as you stroked him gently. You felt him relax under your touch, his body finally easing into the comfort of your presence.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice soothing as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Earlier, I was worried because we haven’t gone that far before. That doesn’t mean I never want you to touch me again. Okay? I just want us to be on the same page, to make sure we’re both ready.”

He nodded again, his face nestled against your thigh as he let out a soft sigh. “I get it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to push you or anything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything I was feeling.”

You leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head. “I know, baby. And we’ll figure it out together, at our own pace. There’s no rush.”

Spencer shifted slightly, looking up at you with soft, grateful eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “For being so understanding.”

You smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss his forehead once more. “I’ll always understand, Spence. You never have to be afraid of that.”

As you continued to play with his hair, Spencer closed his eyes, letting the comfort of the moment wash over him. You could feel the tension in his body melt away, and soon enough, he was relaxed and peaceful, knowing that everything between you two was going to be okay.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks, Spencer felt like he could truly breathe again.

—

You had taken a Friday night off to be with Spencer, trusting your number two to keep things running smoothly. Spencer had taken you to dinner, wined and dined you before bringing you home and kissing you sweetly. Now the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate atmosphere around you both. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, tender and slow, taking your time with each other. Spencer’s hands had wandered, tentative at first, but growing more confident as the moments passed. You had already reassured him a dozen times over that you were ready, that this was something you wanted to share with him.

And now, the moment was here. You laid in front of him, completely bare, your skin bathed in the soft light. Spencer’s eyes roamed over your body, wide and filled with awe. His breath hitched in his throat, his hands shaking slightly as they reached out to touch you. He was gentle, reverent, as though he were afraid of hurting you by merely looking.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as his fingertips ghosted over your skin. He took his time, memorizing every curve, every line, as if he wanted to commit every inch of you to memory.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection as you leaned down to kiss him. “Thank you, baby.”

Spencer swallowed hard, still staring in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re perfect.”

You laughed softly, your heart swelling with warmth. "I’m not perfect, Spence."

He looked at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "You are to me," he said, his voice full of honesty and affection.

With only mild hesitation, Spencer leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone, his lips trailing slowly down to your breasts. He explored every inch of you with care, his lips brushing your skin tenderly. You couldn't help but let out soft whines of pleasure, and Spencer, trying to learn what you like, paid extra attention when your sounds grew louder, lingering in the spots that made your breath hitch.

As your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, gripping softly, Spencer's teeth accidentally grazed your nipple when his lips suctioned to your breast. The unexpected sensation caused you to arch your back and moan loudly, the sound filling the quiet room.

Spencer immediately pulled back, his face filled with concern, eyes wide in alarm. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice was thick with worry, afraid he had crossed a line.

You shook your head quickly, reassuring him as your hands stroked his hair gently. "No, no, baby, I liked it," you whispered, your breath still shaky from the pleasure. "It's okay. It felt good."

Relief washed over Spencer’s face, his lips curling into a small, nervous smile as he realized he hadn’t hurt you. He leaned back in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and this time, he allowed himself to explore you with even more confidence, knowing that you were both in this together.

Spencer froze for a moment, his eyes wide with concern, his breath shaky as he pulled back just enough to search your face. His brow furrowed, worry evident in every inch of his expression. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. His hands hovered over your body, not daring to touch you until he knew for certain that you were alright. 

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection at just how much he cared. Reaching up, you gently brushed a hand through his hair, guiding him back toward you. “I’m sure, Spence. I liked it, I promise,” you whispered reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me. In fact, I liked it a lot.”

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, still looking for any signs of discomfort, but all he found was warmth and trust. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, the tension in his body easing as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, though his face softened with a hint of relief. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, pulling him closer, your hands threading through his hair again, this time more gently. “You don’t have to apologize,” you murmured against his lips. “I love everything you do, Spencer. Just… trust me, okay? Trust that I’ll tell you if something is wrong.”

He nodded, still looking a little unsure but reassured by the sincerity in your voice. His eyes softened as he leaned back down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before trailing them once more along your collarbone, and then lower, toward your chest. This time, there was a careful gentleness in his touch, though the intensity hadn’t faded.

You arched your back again, your body responding to his kisses, to the way his lips brushed against your skin with both tenderness and a growing confidence. As he felt you grip his hair again, Spencer’s lips paused just for a moment, as if waiting for any sign that you weren’t comfortable. But when your soft moans filled the room, he took that as all the permission he needed to continue.

His lips pressed harder, his hands exploring your body with more intent, and this time, when his teeth grazed your skin, he did it purposefully, testing the boundaries of your pleasure.

And when you moaned again, louder this time, Spencer felt a surge of something—both pride and desire—swell inside him. He kissed you again, his lips and teeth finding the spots that made your breath hitch, his hands moving with a confidence that he hadn’t known he possessed until now.

In that moment, you both shared something deeper, a connection that wasn’t just about trust but about exploring each other fully, knowing that in this space, in this moment, there was nothing but love, vulnerability, and acceptance.

—

The bookstore was a haven of calm, a peaceful retreat from the world. The scent of old paper, leather-bound books, and the soft rustle of pages being turned created an atmosphere of quiet serenity. It was the perfect place for you and Spencer to spend the afternoon. 

From the moment you walked in, hand in hand, you could see how at home Spencer felt here. His eyes lit up with excitement as he scanned the shelves, fingers trailing over spines as if each book held a personal story he was waiting to uncover. You loved watching him like this—so in his element, so absorbed in his passion for knowledge and discovery.

But, of course, the playful side of you couldn’t resist adding a bit of mischief to the day. As Spencer dove headfirst into the non-fiction section, his attention already lost in the spines of ancient history volumes, you snuck off into a different aisle, peeking around the corner like a spy on a secret mission. You had been teasing him since you arrived—jumping out at him from behind shelves, sneaking little pokes and playful scares.

You watched from your hiding spot, stifling a giggle as Spencer carefully examined a thick book, oblivious to your plan. His brow furrowed in concentration, a small smile playing on his lips as he skimmed the pages. You took the opportunity to tiptoe closer, hiding behind a row of shelves, waiting for the perfect moment.

Finally, when Spencer rounded the corner, deep in thought about which book to buy next, you jumped out, arms raised in mock menace. “Gotcha!” you shouted with glee.

Spencer yelped, his eyes going wide in surprise as he stumbled back a step. For a split second, his brain went into overdrive, trying to process the sudden "threat." But then, his startled expression melted into laughter. “You’re ridiculous!” he chuckled, shaking his head at you, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, your giggles filling the quiet space between the rows of books. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug, your face pressing against his chest as you felt his warmth seep into you. 

“Maybe,” you said with a grin, looking up at him, “but you love it.”

Spencer’s smile softened, his arms coming around you as he held you close. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “I do,” he murmured, his voice gentle, full of affection. “I really do.”

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other, the world fading away as the quiet of the bookstore enveloped you. Spencer's hand moved up to your back, rubbing slow circles as you soaked in the comfort of the moment. There was something magical about being here together, surrounded by the books he loved and the peaceful intimacy of just being with each other.

After a few moments, you pulled back slightly, your playful grin returning. “Alright, Dr. Reid,” you teased, “what book are we getting?”

Spencer's eyes lit up again, and he immediately turned his attention back to the stack of books he had been eyeing. "Well," he began, his voice taking on that enthusiastic tone you loved so much, "I’ve been looking at this one on the history of cryptography. It has some fascinating insights into early codebreaking techniques used in ancient times, and—" He caught himself, his eyes flickering to yours as he smiled sheepishly. “But I’m not sure you want to hear me ramble about that.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him and placing your hand on his arm. “I always want to hear you ramble, Spence,” you said sincerely. “Tell me all about it.”

His eyes softened, and for the next few minutes, he explained the intricacies of the book, his voice animated and full of passion. You listened intently, loving every second of seeing him so in his element.

After Spencer finished his enthusiastic information dump, the way his eyes lit up while talking about cryptography and ancient codebreaking made your heart swell. You couldn't resist the urge any longer. Without saying a word, you leaned in and kissed him, your lips pressing softly against his, filled with all the affection you felt in that moment.

Spencer blinked in surprise, a grin slowly spreading across his face as you pulled back. “What was that for?” he asked, his tone playful, though his cheeks flushed pink from the unexpected kiss.

You shook your head, smiling warmly as you looked into his eyes. “I just love you so much,” you said softly, feeling your chest fill with warmth at how easy it was to be with him, how completely in love with him you were in moments like this.

His grin softened into something more tender, and his hand found yours on the table, squeezing it gently. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and that same vulnerability that always made your heart flutter.

—

The next time you found yourselves in an intimate position, the energy was different. The tables had turned, and now it was Spencer’s turn to be vulnerable, to bare himself completely to you. As you stood together in the hallway, you could feel the shift in the air, the weight of the moment pressing softly between you two. 

“Spence, are you sure?” you asked gently, guiding him by the hands into the bedroom, your fingers brushing lightly over his knuckles. “There’s no rush, baby. We can take our time.”

Spencer paused, meeting your gaze with a nervous but determined smile. His heart was pounding, but he trusted you—more than anything. “Yeah,” he said, giving you a small nod. His voice trembled slightly with nerves, but his eyes were soft with affection. “You showed me yours, I’ll show you mine, right?” He laughed, albeit a bit awkwardly, trying to lighten the tension.

You smiled back, your heart swelling with love for him. “Exactly,” you said softly. “But only if you’re ready.”

He nodded again, more confidently this time. “I’m ready.”

Once inside the bedroom, the atmosphere felt warmer, more intimate. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the space, and as you stood in front of Spencer, you gently reached for the buttons on his shirt. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling quickly as you carefully unbuttoned the fabric, your fingers brushing over his skin as you went. 

With each button undone, you let your hands glide over his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. You couldn’t resist the urge to lightly trace the curve of his sides, your touch featherlight as you tickled him just enough to make him giggle.

Spencer’s reaction was instant—his eyes squeezed shut as a small, surprised laugh escaped him, his hands quickly grabbing yours to still them. “Behave,” he playfully warned, his face flushed but full of affection.

You laughed softly, loving the way his guard was down, how he trusted you so completely in this moment. “Sorry,” you teased, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his collarbone, your lips brushing against the smooth skin. “I couldn’t resist.”

He let out a soft hum, his fingers still holding yours but more gently now, as if to anchor himself. He was nervous, you could tell, but he was also present, allowing himself to be open with you in a way that made your heart swell.

As you helped him slip off his shirt completely, you took a step back, your eyes scanning his body with nothing but admiration. Spencer’s vulnerability in this moment only made you love him more. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, but he was doing this for you, for both of you, and that meant the world.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. “You don’t have to be nervous with me, Spence. I love all of you.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, the tension in his body easing slightly as your words settled over him. He leaned into your touch, his hands resting gently on your waist as he let out a small, relieved breath. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of gratitude and affection. “And I love you, too.”

Spencer took a deep breath as you carefully removed the last of his clothing, leaving him completely bare before you. The tension in the room was palpable, but you couldn't resist easing it with a light-hearted joke. “Can I look this time?” you asked with a teasing grin.

Spencer laughed, the sound nervous but genuine, and it was enough to break the heavy silence hanging over you both. “Yes,” he replied, his voice still a bit shaky. “You can look.”

So look you did, your eyes trailing down his body with genuine admiration. And when your gaze settled, you couldn’t help but let out a playful gasp, your tone incredulous. “You’ve been hiding this from me? Are you kidding, Spencer?”

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face for a brief second. “What? Is it… is it bad?” His voice trembled, the insecurities he’d tried so hard to suppress bubbling up to the surface again.

You immediately shook your head, moving closer to him, gently pushing him to lie back on the bed as you sat beside him. “No, baby, it’s not bad,” you reassured him softly. Your hand reached out, wrapping around him gently, and Spencer’s body tensed at the sensation. “It’s really not bad.”

“Ah—fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips instinctively bucked upward. It was the first time he had ever felt someone else touch him like this, and the overwhelming sensation sent shivers through his entire body. His breath hitched, and his hands fisted in the sheets, the intensity of the moment almost too much for him.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, your thumb gently brushing over his tip as you whispered, “You are so pretty, baby.”

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest, his face flushing as he absorbed your words. The mix of vulnerability and pleasure left him almost speechless, his mind reeling as you continued to touch him, each movement slow and careful. He had never felt anything like this before, and the way you handled him with such care only made him fall even more in love with you.

As your hand moved with gentle strokes, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips, whispering between kisses, “I’m so lucky to have you.” 

Spencer’s groans turned softer, his body melting into the bed beneath you as he let go of his fear, letting himself trust in you completely. “I love you,” he murmured breathlessly, his voice laced with both awe and gratitude.

“And I love you,” you whispered back, knowing that this was more than just a physical connection—it was a moment of deep trust and love between you both.

You took your other hand, softly stroking Spencer's thighs, your fingers trailing gently over his strong, lean muscles. His body, always so unassuming beneath his clothes, was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. The way his thighs tensed under your touch made your mouth water, a thrill running through you as you explored this new side of him.

“Your body is so beautiful, Spencer,” you murmured, your voice tender and full of affection. “I hope you never hide it from me again.”

Spencer’s breath hitched at your words, his face flushed as his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, but also a growing confidence, fueled by the love and desire you showered him with. “I-I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly, “that you’d think that.”

You smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his thigh, feeling his body tense beneath your lips. “Well, I do. And I always will.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his hand reaching out to grip your arm, needing something to ground himself as the intensity of your touch overwhelmed him. “You’re… amazing,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you continued to caress him.

You smiled against his skin, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. “I’m just showing you what you deserve, Spence.”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as your hand shifted from his thigh to gently cup his balls, rolling them softly between your fingers. His breath stuttered, and his body instinctively arched off the bed, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of pleasure. His hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white as he fought to hold on for just a moment longer, but it was no use. His back arched further, his hips jerking as he reached his peak, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping his lips as he came.

“There you go, baby,” you whispered softly, your voice soothing, filled with nothing but love and reassurance. “Let it go.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his body trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over him. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but not in the way that used to scare him. This time, it was different. This time, he felt safe with you, completely open and raw, knowing you wouldn’t judge him.

He tried not to feel embarrassed as the aftershocks pulsed through him, knowing full well he didn’t last long—especially not when it was you touching him like this. But there was something comforting in the way you held him, in the way your hands never faltered, even in moments like this. You didn’t mind.

And that reassurance made all the difference.

As he slowly came down from his high, Spencer let out a long, deep sigh, his body sinking into the bed beneath him. He blinked up at you, his cheeks still flushed, his breath still uneven. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t last long again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but there was less hesitation this time.

You smiled gently, brushing a hand through his messy hair and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Spence,” you said softly, your tone full of affection. “You know I don’t mind. I love you exactly the way you are.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at your words, the lingering tension in his body slowly dissipating. He gave you a small, shy smile, his hand finding yours and squeezing it lightly. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice full of sincerity.

You lay beside him, pulling him into your arms as his body finally relaxed, his breathing evening out. You continued to stroke his hair, the gentle rhythm calming him as you whispered sweet reassurances. And in that moment, Spencer realized just how lucky he was—to have you, to feel this safe, and to be loved in a way he had never known before.

—

It was the kind of lazy Sunday morning that begged you to stay in bed, curled up in soft blankets with no obligations pulling you away. The sun streamed lazily through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the room, but the promise of fresh pastries and coffee was too tempting to ignore. The two of you reluctantly peeled yourselves from the comfort of the bed, Spencer stretching languidly while you threw on something cozy for your impromptu breakfast outing.

The local bakery was a short walk away, and as you strolled hand-in-hand, the air crisp with a touch of autumn, you could smell the fresh bread and sweet confections wafting through the air long before you even arrived. The warm scent wrapped around you like a comforting hug, and Spencer squeezed your hand gently, smiling down at you as the two of you walked in step, enjoying the quiet simplicity of the moment.

Once you stepped inside, the small bakery was bustling, the display case filled with perfectly baked croissants, éclairs, and muffins, each one more enticing than the last. You and Spencer made your way to the counter, excitedly picking out a selection of pastries along with two steaming cups of coffee.

After grabbing your tray of treats, you found a little table tucked in the corner by the window, where the morning light spilled across the tabletop, catching the powdered sugar that had already dusted the surface. You sat down, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as the two of you settled into your seats, a quiet bubble of comfort surrounding you amidst the hum of the bakery.

The moment felt perfect, simple in its beauty, as you and Spencer started tearing into the pastries, the flaky layers scattering crumbs across the table. You picked up a piece of your croissant, the sweet filling spilling out, and with a playful grin, you held it up to Spencer’s lips. 

“Here, try this,” you said, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you offered him the bite.

Spencer leaned forward, always eager to try something you loved, but as he took a bite, he purposefully let some of the creamy filling smear across his lips. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking your head as you leaned over the table to wipe it away with your thumb. 

“Messy,” you teased, your voice full of affection as you swiped the pastry cream from his lips.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched you, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, am I?” he said with a grin, and before you had a chance to react, he swiped some frosting from the sticky cinnamon roll and playfully dabbed it on your cheek.

“Now you’re messy,” he declared triumphantly, his smile widening as he watched your eyes go wide in surprise.

You gasped dramatically, reaching up to touch your cheek and finding the sticky frosting smeared across your skin. “Spencer!” you protested, laughing as you grabbed a napkin to clean yourself up, but not before flicking a tiny crumb in his direction in retaliation.

He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! No more food fights,” he said, though the grin on his face made it clear he was enjoying every second of your playful exchange.

The two of you dissolved into laughter, the kind of uninhibited joy that made your sides ache and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the crumbs covering the table, not the frosting still clinging to your face, not even the curious glances from the other patrons. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in your own world of love, playfulness, and laughter.

—

The local library had always been Spencer's sanctuary, a place where he found comfort in the stillness, surrounded by shelves filled with knowledge, each book a portal to another world. He had spent countless hours there over the years, developing close bonds with the librarians who worked there. So, when the head librarian’s birthday party was being celebrated, Spencer was eager to bring you along, excited to introduce you to the people who had been a significant part of his life for so long.

As you walked through the library doors, Spencer’s hand tightly holding yours, you could sense how much this place meant to him. There was a sparkle in his eyes, a lightness in his step that spoke of his deep connection to this space. The library wasn’t just a building filled with books—it was part of his identity, a place where he found peace, knowledge, and belonging.

The event itself was small, intimate, just a gathering of close friends, staff, and patrons who knew the librarian well. Balloons were strung around the circulation desk, and a small table was set up with cupcakes and tea. The room buzzed softly with the chatter of people who clearly adored each other, and the air was filled with the smell of old books and sugary sweetness. It was simple, but it felt special, like you had stepped into a warm, welcoming corner of Spencer’s world.

As you entered, Spencer’s excitement was palpable. He gently tugged you along, his face beaming as he navigated the crowd with ease, weaving through the maze of bookshelves toward a small group of people near the front desk. The closer you got, the more you could feel his pride radiating from him.

Finally, you reached the librarian, a kind-faced woman in her sixties who immediately lit up when she saw Spencer. She welcomed him with open arms and a big smile. “Spencer!” she exclaimed warmly, her eyes twinkling with genuine affection. “I’m so glad you made it!”

Spencer smiled back, his hand never leaving yours as he took a step closer. “Of course,” he replied, his voice soft but full of enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t miss it.” Then, with a hint of excitement, he turned to you, his eyes sparkling with joy. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with love and pride as he introduced you. “I’ve been dying to introduce her to you.”

You could feel the weight of those words, how much it meant to him that you were there with him in this special place, sharing a piece of his world.

The librarian turned to you, her warm smile widening as she reached out to shake your hand. “We’ve heard so much about you,” she said with a knowing grin, her eyes flicking back to Spencer for a moment. “He never stops talking about how wonderful you are.”

Spencer blushed instantly, the pink flush creeping up his cheeks as he squeezed your hand just a little tighter, embarrassed but clearly proud at the same time. “She’s pretty amazing,” he said softly, glancing at you with such affection that it made your heart swell.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, your chest fluttering with warmth and love. In that small, cozy room filled with Spencer’s friends and colleagues, you felt like you were truly a part of his world, welcomed into the parts of him that were private, cherished, and deeply personal.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in easy conversation, with Spencer introducing you to more of the people who had become like family to him over the years. You could see how much they cared for him, how deeply they admired his intelligence and gentle nature, and how excited they were to meet you. Every introduction was filled with kind words and warm smiles, and each time Spencer’s hand remained in yours, his grip a reassuring constant, a reminder that this moment was as important to him as it was to you.

Later, as you both stood by the cupcake table, Spencer absentmindedly brushing crumbs off your chin from the chocolate cupcake you’d indulged in, you caught him watching you with a soft, almost reverent expression. “What?” you asked, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks under his gaze.

He shook his head slightly, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m just really happy you’re here,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible above the low hum of chatter in the room.

You smiled, reaching up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “I’m happy to be here,” you replied softly. “I love seeing this side of you, Spence.”

He leaned down and kissed you gently on the forehead, his thumb stroking your hand as he pulled back. “You’re a part of it now,” he whispered. “A part of all of this.”

And in that moment, you felt like you truly were. Spencer’s world, filled with books, warmth, and the people who had shaped him, now included you. You were building something beautiful together—slowly, steadily, and with every shared experience, you were growing closer, learning more about each other, and weaving your lives together in ways that felt as natural as breathing.

—

Spencer had returned to the nightclub feeling confident and secure in your relationship. After all the beautiful moments you had shared—bookstore dates, Sunday mornings filled with laughter and pastries, intimate nights spent wrapped in each other's arms—he thought nothing could come between you two. But as soon as he stepped back into the club, all of that confidence started to erode.

At first, Spencer tried to keep calm, to enjoy the night as just another visit to your world. He watched you from across the room, smiling and laughing with the staff and customers. But then his gaze landed on Sean, who was standing much too close to you, his body language too familiar, his laugh too casual and comfortable. Spencer’s stomach churned, but he kept it to himself, telling himself that it was just work—that Sean had no place in your personal life. 

But then it happened.

Spencer saw Sean’s hand casually smack your ass. You had your back to Spencer, so you couldn’t see his reaction, but you laughed at Sean’s action, clearly finding it harmless. You didn't think twice about it, but Spencer's vision blurred with a sudden surge of anger. His blood boiled, his breath caught in his chest, and every rational thought flew out of his mind. The sight of someone else—Sean, of all people—touching you like that felt like a punch to his gut.

Before he could stop himself, Spencer stormed across the club, his footsteps heavy with intent. His jaw was clenched, his hands balled into tight fists as he closed the distance between you and Sean. He didn’t care about the crowd or how it might look. All he could see was red—his insecurities and fears bubbling up to the surface with a force he hadn’t expected.

By the time he reached you, Sean was laughing, clearly oblivious to the brewing storm that was Spencer. Without a word, Spencer grabbed Sean by the collar, pulling him toward him with more aggression than he’d ever shown before. The music in the club seemed to dim in Spencer’s ears, and the people around him faded into the background.

“Don’t you ever touch her like that again,” Spencer growled, his voice low and dangerous, the words spilling out before he could even process them.

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart leaping into your throat as you turned to see Spencer—his face twisted in anger, his usually calm and collected demeanor gone. You had never seen him like this before, never seen him this furious, this close to losing control. You quickly stepped between them, putting a hand on Spencer’s chest to stop him from doing something he’d regret.

“Spencer, stop!” you exclaimed, your voice laced with confusion and concern. “What are you doing?”

But Spencer’s gaze was locked on Sean, his grip on the bartender’s collar tight. Sean, for his part, looked stunned but didn’t fight back, raising his hands in defense.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, man,” Sean stammered, trying to defuse the situation. “It was just a joke.”

But to Spencer, it wasn’t a joke. It was a direct assault on everything he feared—the fear of not being enough, the insecurity that had been festering inside him since the day he first saw Sean. And now, all that pent-up jealousy and anger was pouring out in one destructive moment.

You could feel Spencer’s chest heaving beneath your hand, his breathing ragged as he stood there, frozen in his fury. Your heart raced, and you knew you needed to stop this before it escalated any further.

“Spence,” you said softly, trying to get through to him. “Baby, please let go. This isn’t you.”

For a long moment, it seemed like he hadn’t heard you, his eyes still boring into Sean’s. But then, slowly, the tension in Spencer’s body began to ease. His grip on Sean’s collar loosened, and finally, he let go, stepping back and running a shaky hand through his hair. His face was still flushed with anger, but the look in your eyes—hurt, confused, pleading—cut through the haze of his rage.

Spencer glanced between you and Sean, suddenly aware of what he’d done, of how far he’d let things go. Guilt washed over him like a cold wave, and he took a step back, his hands trembling as the adrenaline began to fade.

“I—I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the thumping music. “I didn’t mean to…”

But the damage was done. You stood there, still in shock, trying to process what had just happened, while Sean backed away, clearly wanting to put some distance between himself and the situation.

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to make sense of what had just unfolded. Spencer—your Spencer—had never acted like this before. And as much as you wanted to reassure him, to tell him it was okay, you couldn’t ignore the heaviness in your chest, the weight of what had just happened.

Spencer looked at you, his eyes wide with regret, but all you could do was stare back, unsure of what to say, unsure of what came next.

The tension in the air was palpable as security started making their way over, eyes locked on Spencer with the clear intent of handling the situation. Your heart sank even further, realizing that this night had spiraled so far out of control. Before you could say anything, Sean held up a hand to stop them. “It’s fine, Steve,” Sean sighed, shaking his head. “We’re good.”

But his words didn’t ease the knot in your chest. You looked at Sean, “Are you?” Then at Spencer, who stood there looking lost and ashamed. “Are we?” you muttered, your voice heavy with sadness. Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and walked away, unable to even look at Spencer right now. The weight of his actions, of what had just happened, was too much to process in that moment.

Spencer’s heart dropped as he watched you walk away, the pit in his stomach growing deeper with every step you took. “Y/N! Please wait!” he called after you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You were too overwhelmed, too upset. He chased after you, his feet moving quicker as the panic set in. “Sweetheart, please!” Spencer begged, following you all the way back into your office.

You stepped inside, your hands shaking as you slammed the door shut behind you. The lock clicked into place, but before Spencer could say another word, you whirled around, the anger and frustration bubbling over.

“He’s fucking gay, Spencer!” you yelled, the words coming out with a mix of hurt and exasperation.

Spencer froze, his face falling in utter confusion. “What?” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of what you just said.

“I didn’t tell you because it’s not my place,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of the emotions swirling inside you. “And frankly, it doesn’t fucking matter, but Jesus, Spencer!” You raised your hands in disbelief, the frustration too much to contain.

Spencer stood there, his mind racing as he tried to grasp what you were saying. “I—I’m sorry,” he managed, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know… I just, he slapped your—your butt, and I saw red. I lost control.”

You ran a hand over your arm, trying to calm yourself down, trying to make sense of why this had gotten so out of hand. Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there as you asked, “Spencer, you’ve seen my friends do it all the time. Hell, your team smacks your ass, and it’s all in good fun. How is it different?”

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes dropping to the floor as guilt washed over him. He didn’t have an answer—at least not one that made sense. The truth was, it wasn’t different. But somewhere in the haze of his jealousy and insecurity, he had convinced himself that Sean was a threat. That somehow, Sean’s friendship with you, the easy banter and playfulness between you two, meant he had something Spencer didn’t. And tonight, all of that had come crashing down in the worst way.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his shame. “I—I guess I just got scared. I got jealous. I didn’t think.”

You shook your head, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes as you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You didn’t think at all,” you muttered, your voice tinged with disappointment. “You didn’t trust me.”

Spencer winced at your words, the truth of them hitting him harder than any reprimand could. “I do trust you,” he said quickly, stepping forward, his hand reaching out for yours. “I trust you more than anyone. I just… I let my insecurities get the best of me. I know it was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, rubbing your temple as you tried to process everything. You wanted to believe him, to believe that this was just a one-time mistake, but the hurt still lingered. “Spencer, I love you,” you began, your voice softer now, but still firm. “But you can’t keep letting your insecurities drive you. I’ve told you time and time again—there’s no one else. No one but you.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I know that, I do. But when I saw that… when I saw him touch you, it just—everything I’ve been feeling came to the surface. And I’m so sorry I didn’t handle it better.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back against the desk, still trying to calm your racing heart. “You scared me, Spencer. I’ve never seen you act like that.”

He stepped closer, his face full of regret, his hand reaching out again as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to scare you. I just… I messed up. I know I did. Please, sweetheart, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just… don’t walk away from me.”

You looked at him, his eyes filled with guilt and desperation, and you knew he meant every word. Spencer was never one to lash out like this, never one to let his emotions get the best of him. But tonight, his insecurities had taken over, and now you both were left picking up the pieces.

After a long moment, you took a deep breath and nodded, your voice steady but still firm. “You need to work on this, Spencer. This jealousy, this need to protect me from something that isn’t even there. We can’t have this happen again.”

“I will,” he promised, stepping closer and taking your hands in his. “I swear to you, I’ll work on it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please… forgive me.”

"You need to go apologize to Sean," you said, your tone firm but not unkind. "And maybe... maybe you should think about seeing a therapist or counselor. This—this kind of insecurity, it’s not healthy for you or for us."

Spencer nodded, his head hanging low as he absorbed your words. He knew you were right. He had let his own fears and jealousy take control, and now he was faced with the aftermath. "You're right," he repeated, his voice tired and remorseful. "You’re absolutely right."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, trying to gather himself. His mind was racing, filled with guilt and the weight of what he had done. He knew he had crossed a line, and it hurt to think that he had not only disrespected Sean but also hurt you in the process.

"I’ll go apologize right now," Spencer said, his voice steady, though there was a slight tremble beneath the surface. He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret, but also determination. He wanted to make this right. Not just for you, but for himself.

You gave him a small, encouraging nod, knowing that this was a step in the right direction. "Good," you replied quietly. "But Spence, don’t just apologize for what you did—make sure you understand why you did it. That’s the only way this is going to get better."

"I know," he said softly, his hand reaching out to take yours, squeezing gently. "I’ll fix this. I swear."

You watched as Spencer turned and walked toward the door, his shoulders slightly slumped with the weight of everything he had to face. As he left the office, you let out a long breath, hoping that this moment would be a turning point. For both of you.

Spencer walked up to the bar with hesitant steps, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of what he needed to do, the guilt and embarrassment swirling together in a tight knot in his stomach. As he reached the bar, he stood there for a moment, awkwardly waiting for Sean to notice him. His palms were sweaty, and he rubbed them against his jeans, trying to calm himself.

Finally, Sean approached, clearly still a bit shaken from the earlier confrontation, but his expression was guarded, more curious than angry. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Spencer to speak.

“H–hi, Sean,” Spencer stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flicked up to meet Sean’s briefly before dropping back to the floor, the guilt weighing heavily on him. “I… I am so sorry for what I did earlier.”

Sean’s face softened slightly, though his guard didn’t completely drop. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter, waiting for Spencer to continue.

“I completely overreacted,” Spencer admitted, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I said and did things I never should have. You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t… I didn’t even know the whole story, and I just assumed the worst.”

Sean stayed quiet for a moment, studying Spencer. He could see the sincerity in Spencer’s eyes, the regret etched in every line of his face. Finally, Sean let out a soft sigh, uncrossing his arms.

“Look, man,” Sean began, his tone more understanding than Spencer had anticipated. “I get it. I’ve seen guys lose it over jealousy before. But that doesn’t make what you did okay.”

Spencer nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “I know,” he said, his voice strained. “It’s not okay, and I regret it. Y/N means everything to me, and I let my insecurities cloud my judgment. I’m not trying to make excuses… I just wanted to apologize.”

Sean leaned back slightly, his arms resting on the bar as he gave Spencer a small, almost sympathetic smile. “I appreciate the apology,” he said. “Just… maybe work on not jumping to conclusions next time, alright?”

Spencer nodded vigorously, his heart still racing but relieved that Sean hadn’t completely written him off. “I will,” he promised, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. “I’m going to talk to someone about it. I’m… I know I need to deal with this.”

Sean nodded, his expression easing a little more. “Good. And just so you know, man, I’m not interested in Y/N. Like, at all.” He gave Spencer a meaningful look, letting the words sink in.

Spencer blushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah… I, uh, I know now. I’m sorry I ever thought otherwise.”

Sean let out a small chuckle, shaking his head and gave Spencer a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’re good. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Thank you, Sean,” he said quietly, feeling a weight lift from his chest. “I really appreciate it.”

Sean offered a small smile in return. “No problem. Take care of her, alright?”

Spencer nodded again, his heart swelling with a renewed sense of determination. “I will,” he promised, meaning every word.

And with that, Spencer turned away from the bar, feeling lighter than he had when he’d first walked up. He still had a lot of work to do, but this was a start—a step in the right direction.

—

Spencer navigated his way carefully through the hallway, dodging the maze of moving boxes that now cluttered the apartment. The feeling of excitement from his therapy breakthrough still thrummed inside him as he called out for you. 

“Y/N!” he shouted, eager to share his day.

“In the bedroom!” your voice echoed back warmly.

As he pushed past the last of the boxes, Spencer entered the bedroom and found you sitting cross-legged on the floor. A box of printed photos lay open in front of you, and scattered around were dozens of pictures, some slightly faded with time, others bright and new. You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, your cheeks glowing from a mixture of nostalgia and emotion.

“What do you have there, sweetheart?” Spencer asked gently, his voice filled with warmth as he crouched down beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You sniffled and smiled, holding up one of the photos—a snapshot of the two of you from a Sunday morning at the bakery, crumbs on your faces, laughing uncontrollably. “All of our memories,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I found this box while I was packing. I didn’t realize we had so many photos together.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at the sight of the old pictures and the happy tears in your eyes. He gently took the photo from your hand and studied it for a moment, the joy from that day flooding back to him. He remembered the way you had fed him pastries, how you had teased him for getting frosting on his nose, how perfect the world had felt in those little moments.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve made a lot of good memories, haven’t we?” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over the scattered photos.

You nodded, blinking back the tears as you picked up another picture—one from the bookstore, where you had sneakily snapped a photo of him deep in thought, completely absorbed in the world of books. “I never want to forget any of this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything the photos represented.

Spencer sat down beside you, his heart full as he looked over the memories you had collected. “Hey,” He said softly, taking your hand in his. “I had a breakthrough at therapy today.”

You looked up at him, your tear-filled eyes widening with interest. “You did?”

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. I think I’m finally starting to understand where all that insecurity came from… and how to manage it better. I’ve still got a lot of work to do, but… I’m getting there.”

Your smile widened as you squeezed his hand, pride swelling in your chest. “Spence, that’s amazing,” you said, your voice filled with love and encouragement.

He squeezed your hand back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he admitted quietly. “You’ve been so patient with me, even when I wasn’t always patient with myself.”

Your eyes widened at his words, the weight of the question sinking in as you looked up at Spencer. The room seemed to still for a moment, the sound of your breath catching in your throat the only noise breaking the silence. You blinked, trying to process what he had just asked, your heart racing in your chest.

“Will you marry me?” Spencer repeated, his voice softer this time, but no less certain. His eyes were filled with love, vulnerability, and a touch of nervousness, as if he’d been carrying this question for a while, waiting for the right moment to let it out.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, this time from pure joy. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you took in the sincerity of his expression. He wasn’t just asking for a promise—he was asking to continue writing the rest of your story together, side by side, forever.

You cupped his face with your hands, your heart swelling with love and excitement. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer let out a breath he was holding, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he pulled you into a deep, heartfelt kiss. Relief, joy, and love coursed through him all at once, making the moment feel surreal. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let you go.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were laughing through the tears, caught up in the magic of the moment.

“You really want to marry me?” you teased gently, your forehead pressed against his, your fingers lightly brushing his cheek.

“More than anything in this world,” Spencer said, his voice full of conviction. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart felt like it might burst as you nodded, still in awe of how this moment had unfolded. “I want that too,” you whispered, “forever.”

Spencer kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the sweetness of the moment, the promise of a future filled with more memories, more laughter, more love. And as you sat there, surrounded by the snapshots of your shared past, you couldn’t help but feel excited for all that was yet to come.

You pulled back from the kiss, a playful glint in your eyes. “And hey,” you teased, running a hand through his hair, “maybe you can wear white at the wedding.” Your smirk deepened as you watched Spencer’s expression shift from one of love to amusement.

Spencer threw his head back, laughing loudly, the sound filling the room and making your heart flutter. You always loved how his laugh could light up any space. “I have one problem with your plan,” he said, still chuckling, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh yeah? What’s that, honey?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, fully enjoying the banter between you two.

Spencer leaned in closer, his voice low and full of playful confidence as he said, “I don’t plan on being pure for much longer.”

You burst into laughter, your cheeks flushed from both the teasing and the thrill of the moment. “Oh, is that so?” you teased, leaning into him, your fingers trailing down his chest. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we?”

Spencer grinned, his blush deepening as he kissed you again, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “I guess we will,” he murmured against your lips, his tone both playful and full of promise. 

The two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, the lightness of the moment mingling with the deep love you shared. It was another memory added to the many you had created together, and you couldn’t help but feel that your future, together as partners, was only just beginning.

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[wishful-sinful-9]

Love the idea that Logan (with his healing factor and adamantium) thinks humans with no mutation are like… extremely fragile. Maybe even thinks they are sickly. When he’s not in a cage match he’s like, very lightly gripping ppls hands in a handshake. Gets very concerned if a human is left out in the elements for too long haha

I agree and I'm going to run with this concept a little bit here lmao

NSFW content

I can imagine he's also never ever considered going out with one because he assumes they'd think he was some sort of animalistic freak.

so when he's at a bar, and this pretty non-mutant girl makes eye contact with him, he thinks oh shit.

he knows he's in trouble when you approach him, flashing him a coy smile and attempting some cliché line that tells him he's not just in trouble, he's in deep shit, because it's obvious you're not very experienced in this department. you flirt, and he half-heartedly tells you, “you don't want to get involved with me, kid.”

“I'm not a kid, and why do you think that, Logan?”

he meets your sparkling eyes, “because I'm a bad man.”

“How bad?”

“very, very bad.”

when you giggle at him he knows it's over.

-

despite your enthusiasm, Logan wants to take it as slow as he can so as to give you as many opportunities to back out as possible. but when you're on your fourth date, having invited him round to watch a movie, and you're giving him this dangerously playful smile every two seconds...

he has you under him in the couch, crying as he grinds his cock into you, his dog tags dangling over your face.

you realise that he's trying to hold back - he's aware of his strength and nature and is afraid he'll hurt you. but your pawing at his biceps moaning for more.

then you do something that makes him stutter in his pace: you yank him down by his tags and give him a searing kiss, biting on his lower lip as you pull away. a little shocked, he blinks down at you as you whimper, “you're not going to break me, I can take it, Lo.”

he hesitates. then he lowers his lips to your ear, “promise you'll tell me to stop if I go too far.”

“I promise, baby.”

And suddenly, he's ramming into you at this toe-curling pace and grunting like an animal. you cum quickly, crying out and coating his cock with your release. but he shows no signs of stopping: tears of overstimulation stream down your cheeks as he reaches down between you, to the creamy mess of your cunt, and spreads the cum drooling out of you up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. the sounds of him pounding into you and making a bigger mess of your fluids are beyond obscene, it would make you blush hard if you weren't already flushed from the pleasure.

you let him manhandle you into a variation of positions and pull another two orgasms from you until he groans, gripping the armrest above your head, the sudden sound of metal slicing the air making your eyes widen as his claws unsheath while he spills ropes of cum into you.

he pants, drawing them back in and looking down at you.

he's still fully seated inside when he grunts, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise they would-”

“it's okay,” you cut in, “it was hot.”

he blinks at your beaming face.

oh shit indeed.

[gallaggher]

perfume. || spencer reid x afab!reader.

warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI. couch sex, breeding, use of pet names (baby, my love), unprotected sex, afab reader, pussy eating, fingering, riding, thigh slapping (at like one part) dom!spence. not proofread! i think that’s all, if i missed something lmk.

summary: spencer needs to leave for work, but you tried out a new pheromone perfume.

comments: i was too lazy to capitalize so it’s all lowercase, there also may be grammatical mistakes because i wrote this half asleep and didn’t proof read. this is also my first time publishing work so i hope you enjoy! reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!

- - -

you and spencer sat on the couch of your new apartment. you two had been seeing each other for months and had finally moved in together. you lift your head of from your book when you hear spence’s ringtone.

“dr. reid,” he answers,

“okay, be there in 30” and he puts his phone down.

“work?” you ask, head back in your book.

“i’m sorry, i asked for the weekend off. important case in new york” spence replied, a tang of sorrow in his voice.

you put your book down and crawl over to him. “it’s okay love, let me just hold you while you’re here” you say, and pull him onto your chest.

your perfume almost immediately engulfs spencer’s nose, and he begins to kiss on your neck. you giggle and wonder why he’s being so affectionate, and then you remember. you had been wearing this new pheromone perfume you bought from the store.

as spencer begins to kiss down your chest, you ask, “spence baby, why are you all over me?” a joking tone in your voice. “smells so good baby, is it new?” he says in between kisses. you go to reply when spencer lifts you up and you’re now sitting on his lap straddling him.

“yes baby, it’s new. i bought it last time i went to the store.”

he couldn’t have enough. his lips ran all over your body like a hungry animal. his hands now began to make their way towards your waistband as you entangled your fingers in his hair. his hand entered your shorts and began to rub on your soaked cunt through your underwear.

“need you spence” you said softly. his eyes made contact with yours and you knew, you were fucked (literally). with those words spence moved your underwear out the way and rammed two of his digits into you. a gasp escaped your mouth and you threw your head onto his shoulder.

spencer felt intoxicated. your smell, this new perfume, drove him insane. ‘fuck baby,” he said as his fingers continued to ram into you, “you’re so tight and wet.” you buried your head into his neck from embarrassment.

using his free hand, spencer grabbed your face and made you look at him. “uht uht my love, look at me” spence said, making eye contact.

your hips began to grind against his fingers, his pace driving you insane, and you glanced at the clock. spencer only had 25 more minutes until he needed to leave.

“spence, baby” you mumble out through moans, “you have to leave soon.”

“25 minutes is enough for me. i’ll make you feel good baby, just relax” he replied, as he lifted you up and put you on your back.

you let out a small moan when he places you down on the couch. his hands immediately removed the shorts and underwear from your body, leaving you exposed from the waist down. he puts his head between your thighs, trailing soft kisses up and stopping right before your dripping cunt. you begin to get desperate and start to move your hips. this gets you a slap on your thigh, causing you to release a moan.

“stay still y/n. i didn’t say you could move.” spencer says following the slap. “just need you spence, now” you reply, looking down and the man between your legs. that was all he needed to hear. he immediately dives down and his tongue begins to lap between your folds. your hands jump to his hair, gripping and pulling, while you let out a string of moans.

spencer’s speed does not slow as he begins to ram two fingers inside of you. “f-fuck! spence baby stop! ‘m getting close” you moan out, feeling your brain begin to go numb. “cum for me baby. please my love” spencer replies while sucking on your clit.

that was all you needed to release. you close your legs around spencer’s head and he continues at the same speed, while you ride out your orgasm. “i-i’m cumming baby, can’t take it” you yell out between moans.

spencer then sits up and you see the bulge in his pants. you instantly climb on top of spencer, and undo his belt. you remove his cock from his pants and slip it inside. spencer places his hands on your hips and guides you. “fuck baby, you feel so good” he says, as he helps you move faster.

you push your lips onto spencer’s, both of your moans drowning between. “fuck, y/n, i’m close” spencer says, finally breaking the kiss. “inside me! finish inside! please spence baby” you moan out desperately. you and spencer both climax at the same time, the sound of your sex filling the room.

you climb off of him and glance at the clock. “go get changed baby.” you say and give spencer a kiss on the forehead. he gives you a kiss on the forehead before standing up and walking to the bedroom. you simply wait on the couch for him to leave.

“okay baby, im leaving now. i love you” he says, and gives you a kiss. “i love you more. be safe baby.” you reply, kissing him again before he walks out.

[werecreature-addicted]

Werewolf husband who gets you pregnant with your first liter and is the sweetest but he can’t help how good you look! Please he knows you’re tired but he just wants a taste! He’ll do anything you want after please just let him in-between your legs

it starts off innocent, just a massage for his lovely mate, he insists you sit down and rest while he does his best to pamper you. you've done so much just by being pregnant all day, let him take care of you.

He rubs your feet while listening to you talk about your day and slowly his clawed hands move up, rubbing your calf and slowly working up to your thigh. He's trying to focus on your words but every time he moves his hands up your breath catches and you stumble over your words. You're so cute, so easily flustered and those cute surprised noises you keep making aren't helping.

He strokes your inner thigh carefully, the image of his hand disappearing under your skirt is enough to make you squirm on your own even if he isn't touching you anywhere inappropriate yet.

"Sounds like you've had a hard day," he purrs in a low voice. his eyes are deep and piercing. wanting. You suddenly feel very small, like a hunted animal countered by the big bad wolf.

"I- guess," you say. he looms over you, pulling your legs apart,

"let me make it a little better," he purrs before reaching down to tug your underwear off.

"Baby I'm tired," you groan, thinking about the rough sex that your werewolf husband loved, you loved it too but you didn't think you could physically take it.

"I'll be gentle, make you feel good, a nice orgasm will make you nice and sleepy then I'll carry you to bed," he promises, already licking his lips. he's desperate to taste you, to pleasure you, he's practically drooling. it's kind of a turn-on. He's already kissing your thigh, his hands roaming your body, rubbing over your pregnant belly up to palm your swollen tits.

"Okay, okay," you sigh, leaning back and spreading your legs for him to bury his face in your cunt. He's slow, and passionate as he slowly runs his tongue over your folds, tasting you before pushing his thick tongue inside of you making you shudder. he's never been this patient when eating you out, usually, he's rushed and sloppy, spitting on your pussy to get you wet before shoving his fingers in your pussy to get you stretched for his big cock.

This isn't that. this is a make-out session with your pussy, this is eating you out for the sake of eating you out. You let yourself relax, slowly grinding against his face as he snarls and laps at your folds tension builds in your body, every moan you let past your lips only spurred him on to keep going. you shudder as you cum, his lips wrapped around your clit, you can feel him grinning to himself as you whimper and ride out your orgasm.

"thank you," he purrs, scooping you up in his arms to take you to bed, just as he promised.

[whateverloomis]

Billy and Stu x Reader who doesnt like violence, so they have to baby her all the time🥺

I see you anon ;)

This was heavily inspired by that first scene in Sidney's room where Billy is being a total clown with her stuffie 🤡

This is a shorty but very fun and teasy :p

Enjoy! <33

Warnings: Making out, teasing, Stu is chaotic, poly!ghostface, reader is sassy, unedited

Reader: AFAB, She/Her, use of YN | 3rd person pov

YN was watching one of Billy and Stu's favorite slasher movies in her room with Stu. One she didn't care about, like the rest of those gory, gross, violent movies.

She was snuggling up to Stu, her face on his chest and eyes closed, hoping to fall asleep and drown out the sound of the unwanted film.

The boy looked down and noticed she was upset. He paused the movie and ran his hand through her hair.

"You alright kiddo?" He asked and she looked up at him, a slight frown on her face.

"Yeah I just... I don't like these kinds of movies... They're unnecessarily violent." She answered and Stu chuckled, "Well baby, it's a horror movie, of course it's gonna be violent." He answered.

Suddenly, Billy walked in the room. He overheard the conversation while climbing up the stairs and was clearly annoyed at the situation.

"Stu, turn that shit off. You know she doesn't like that stuff." Billy said and grabbed one of her stuffed animals, sitting next to her and placing it on her lap. It was like muscle memory for him. Billy knew exactly when and what she needed for comfort.

Stu was very caring as well, but sometimes he forgot small details that triggered her, but that's okay. She knew Stu didn't mean any harm, but whenever it happened she needed all the comfort in the world from her boyfriend's.

YN grabbed the stuffed animal and sat up against the headboard, her knees up to her chest while hugging the stuffie.

Stu turned off the TV and looked at YN with a frown, "I didn't mean to upset you baby," he said and she waved her hand softly, "It's okay, I'm not mad I just..." YN trailed off and Billy wrapped his arm around her, providing comfort.

"Oh I know!" Stu exclaimed and YN jumped slightly. The boy ran out of the room and down the stairs to look for God knows what and left YN and Billy alone.

"He's such an idiot sometimes," Billy mumbled and YN glared at him playfully, "Don't be mean," she said and Billy looked at her, a smirk adorning his face.

"C'mere" he said and patted his lap. YN crawled towards her boyfriend, stuffie still in hand and she straddled his lap. Billy quickly wrapped his arms round her waist and pressed her against him, the stuffed animal between them.

"We'll watch something else later, okay? Your pick," Billy said, his voice low sending shivers of excitement over her body. YN smiled at him and jumped softly on his lap out of happiness.

Billy licked his bottom lip and chuckled, removing the stuffie from between them, "Mm, don't do that unless you wanna get in trouble." he whispered, cock half hard from her movements.

YN repeated her cute little jump again, biting her lower lip, "Maybe I do want to get in trouble," she said and Billy let out a breathy laugh.

YN leaned in at the same time as Billy and they kissed softly. Occasionally pulling back to place teasy pecks on each other's lips before connecting again and playing with each other's tongues.

She started to grind slowly against his now hard cock and released a whine. Billy chuckled and squeezed her hips, "You're so fucking cute," he whispered and crashed his lips against hers again.

Before things escalated, Stu climbed up the stairs, tripping on the final step before entering the room; "I got your favorite snack! We can watch- Well shit, what a way of comforting her, Billy," Stu said teasingly and YN pulled away from Billy, burying her head in the crook of his neck and giggling.

Stu placed the snack on the night stand and sat next to them, pulling YN towards him, YN kneeling next to him. Her second boyfriend cupped her face and she leaned in, kissing him with need. She moaned softly against his lips, clearly worked up because of the make out session with Billy.

YN pulled back and crawled towards Stu, giving Billy a perfect view of her ass before she sat on Stu's lap, continuing the hungry kiss.

"You love getting your way with us, huh?" Stu asked teasingly and YN smirked; "And you loovee to please me," She said and Billy raised an eyebrow; "Oh yeah? We'll see about that," he said before grabbing YNs face and kissing her again, her still on Stu's lap.

She was in for a night of fun, multiple rounds and lots of praise.

[cupidsblonde]

in which reader and Choso have been talking online for a while and reader has gotten herself a pretty boy appointment

content includes: size difference, age difference (reader is 22 choso is 36) mating press, back-shots, reverse cowgirl, tit fucking“idk if it will fit” “ill make it fit” big dick big tits

inspo: my lovely favorite jjk author getodrools

any picture sent my reader there will be different links with different skin tones!

I thought I’d write something for jjk! I’m into all sorts of fandoms anime and all !! Feel free to tell me any other fandoms you’d be interested in me writing for !!

monday 10:23 am

my fav dick<33

hey baby watching those videos of u fuckin that pretty pussy <33

Attached: 1 Video

his fav pussy<33

your so biggg:)

you’d stuff me so full baby

Attached: 1 Photo (1 2 3)

my fav dick<33

i wish i could stuff your tight pussy baby:(

your tits look sooo good

maybe we could meet up?? lol

im only 30 mins away🤷🏻‍♂️

his fav pussy<33

when r u freeeee :)

im free friday we could frl meet up !! :))

my fav dick<33

thats great bc im also free friday babe;)

i have to go, duty calls but maybe we could

call tonight and play with a dildo of yours<33

his fav pussy<33

ooo yay !! can’t wait for tonight and to see you :))

my fav dick<33 hearted a message

it was true that you couldn’t wait to see him, you where a little nervous but he made you feel good and he makes you happy. but his cock was huge! you really didn’t know if you could handle all of that. but your pussy still hasn’t been fucked but anyone but yourself !! you have huge dildos so you think that you would be able to take him.

incoming call from my fav dick<33

“hey baby” choso says happily but still in his voice that you find so sexy “heyy which one are we using tonight?” “the big one” “perfect daddy !! i already have it let me put it inside” just as your about to slip it in he stops you “let me see” “of course daddy!”

choso gets to watch you play with yourself and shove the dildo in and out of your tight pussy while he jerks his dick

“s-stop” choso says into the phone and you listen, and stop.

“daddy please let me cum im so close”

“cum for me sweetheart” choso groans out as his load shoots out from his huge dick.

after both of you cum you guys talk for a little while and end up falling asleep on the phone.

friday 8:00am

my fav dick<33

what time will you be ready for me baby?

can’t wait to see you

his fav pussy<33

anytime daddy:)

my fav dick<33

okay then ill be there around 9:15 pm okay?

cant’t wait baby;)

his fav pussy<33

ekk !! cant wait:)) 9:10pm

my fav dick<33

im here baby

when you read that text your hands became clammy but your pussy is tingling !! you opened the door and you where met with a large man! you knew he was tall, and with the way you could see his dick grow when he laid eyes on you. it was going to break you in half

“hey baby” he says with a smile and you let him walk in and close the door behind him. you grab the chest of his hoodie and pull him down to you he had to be at-least 6’2. you start kissing him, he seamed a little surprised that you wanted to get started all ready but he pulls away “jump” he mumbled into your ear.

you jump and he grabs your under thighs and you wrap them around his waist and you continue to make out with him. he knew the layout of your house from the many times you would walk around with him on face time and headed over to your bedroom.

he opens the door and wraps him other arm around your body to support you as he kisses your neck. he knew you needed foreplay. as he continues to lay sloppy kisses along your neck he finds your sweet spot. you let out a gasp and a rather loud moan, thats how he knew he had found it. he sits on your bed with you on top of him.

your grinding on his dick as you let out soft groans and moans as he keeps sucking on your neck. he slowly moves a hand to your ass, and finds him way to your panties. he starts massaging the bottom of your thighs with his other hand.

you pull your neck away from him and peel your legs away from his hands and you moves your hands to his zippered pants, you pull both his pants and boxers down. he’s already hard. your met with a practically a third leg!

“wow.. your just as big(if not bigger) as i saw online!” you say with a smile as you take his balls into your palm. you cup them with one of your hands and start pumping his cock with the other. you start kissing his tip to the base. lick down and you put just your mouth on his tip and you start sucking

he groans. loudly. “fuck baby” he says as he grabs you by your hair and pushes you so you take him even deeper in your mouth. as you continue to massage his balls you feel his cock twitch when you suck. thats when he moans loudly. he starts fucking his cum inside of your mouth.

“swallow” you do as told and you swallow every last drop of his seed. when you do you open your mouth and show him, his cock is standing up again. your grabs you by the shoulders and he pulls you onto his lap and starts making out with you. before his cock almost finds its way through your panties, he lays you down on your back.

he wastes no time with shoving your tiny skirt up, which he only had to move little because it was so tiny and she slides your hot pink thong down your legs and takes them, drapes it along his dick and twists it so its all wrapped around his dick, he could feel your wetness on the thong still. he starts pumping his cock and at that time he moves his mouth to your pussy

he pushes your maxi tank top up and finds you arent wearing a bra, he uses that hand that isnt pumping his cock to pinch and twist your hard buds that lived on your massive tits. he has been sucking and licking at your clit and when he stops pumping his cock and peels the panties that are now covered in his pre cum, he suddenly moves his tongue to dart and and out of your pussy stops every once in a while to suck at your throbbing hole.

“im gonna cum” you say repeatedly and fast and when he hears this you feel him grin against your pussy and flip you onto his lap, spank your ass which makes you moan loud and hard then start rubbing your clit. he starts picking up the speed and thats when you scream out his name and cum. “oh yes choso !!”

his dick is standing once again and with not warning, he stands from his spot where he was on his knees on the floor and pushes your legs to your shoulders. “you ready baby?” he says and before you could answer, it was yes of course, his huge tip was sliding up and down your folds.

you moan out when his tip gets to your throbbing hole and he pushes just the tip in. “ i dont know if it will fit” “i’ll make it fit down worry baby”he slowly pushes inside and groans. it takes a little while for you to reach his base but when you do, you can see a bulge in your stomach. he was being so sweet but you wanted him to be mean to you, even if it was just for a little bit. “choke and slap me please” you moan out “ive got to fuck you harder then” you nod and he starts thrusting into you while choking you, but not hurting you.

he suddenly stops fucking you like that after such a quick pace, you whimper and beg him to keep going. suddenly he flips you onto your front. “arch for me” you arch. “i warmed you up with that now your gonna get back shots with this big cock” he puts his dick into your needy little pussy and starts fucking you, hard. “anything you want daddy” you moan out.

as he continues to mercilessly pound your pussy, hitting your g spot every time. you tell him your gonna cum. when he hears this he goes even faster. when you let out a scream, he keeps going until your squirting all over his dick. your body is shaking and he flips you onto your back and he presses his dick in between your tits. “tit fuck me baby” so you listen and press your tits together with his dick in between, and start milking his cock “yea just like that baby”

“come ride me” he says sitting on the bed, you where ridding him then suddenly, he wraps his arms around your waist and starts fucking you hard from under you. That’s when he finishes, but this time inside if you. And you where okay with it. You finish all over his cock, your juices mixing together and when he pulls out he fingers you to keep everything inside. He grabs his and yours discarded clothes, and helps you up.

“you good baby?” he chuckles when your knees buckle and you fall back onto the bed. he gets you new panties and helps you get dressed into your pj’s. he gets dressed himself and lays down behind you.

“im glad we met up” you say with a smile when you turn to him. “me too sweet girl” he says sleepily. eventually you both doze off.

in the morning you wake up to him nor being in your bed, so you go looking for him and you find him in your kitchen. making you breakfast. you smile and turn back to go to your room. when he enters the room he says “ i knew you where in the kitchen you know?” he says kissing your forehead and giving you the food and drink, setting your drink on the nightstand.

after you finish your food he stays with you in bed for a while, in comfortable silence. “can i be your boyfriend?” he suddenly questions. you turn to him with a huge smile and say “of course!!” you excitedly say. “im so glad.” he says kissing your forehead and dozing off, you not long after him.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader

"Just Another Day at The Office."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.

(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)

Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.

Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.

It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.

"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.

"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.

"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.

"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.

He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.

Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.

"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.

"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.

You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.

"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.

In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.

"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.

"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.

"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.

"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.

When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.

"May I handle that before we go out?"

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

October 24 - Enchanted Strap

pairing: sub!Wanda x dom!Reader

summary: Wanda tries a new spell.

content warnings: strap-on, blowjob

word count: 1k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“Hey,” you say, dragging out the end of the word as you walk towards where Wanda is seated on the couch. She sets her book down as you approach, smiling up at you as you gently sit down on her lap, draping yourself over it. 

“Remember the spell I asked you about?” 

Wanda chuckles at that, her cheeks growing slightly pink. She nods, biting her lip as her hand slowly rubs your thigh. 

You smile back at her, one of your hands coming up to cup her cheek, loving the way she nuzzles into it. Your fingers gently stroke her soft skin, moving to tuck her hair behind her ear. Truly, you were lucky to have Wanda as a girlfriend, and the fact that she was a witch only made you love her more. 

She’d been nervous to tell you at first, but your eyes had lit up and you’d cupped her jaw and told her to show you more in that commanding, breathless tone of yours. Wanda didn’t have the willpower to deny you, so she’d demonstrated her powers for you as you’d watched with child-like glee, your eyes wide and hands still gentle and loving when you touched her. 

You were the first person she’d ever told about her powers, and she couldn’t have been luckier to have you. 

“I want you to use it,” you say, your fingers moving to play with a few strands of her auburn hair. 

Wanda blushes harder at that. God, she gets so adorably shy. It's one of the most endearing things about her, truly, you love it. Her hands move slightly quicker against your thigh, and you can practically hear the thoughts spinning around in her mind. 

“Now, love,” you say, dropping your voice lower as you stand. Holding out a hand, you help Wanda up from the couch, smiling at the quiet ‘yes, darling’ that she responds with. 

You watch her walk toward the bedroom, shamelessly admiring her silhouette. Feeling yourself growing wet, you sink back onto the couch with a slight groan. Picking up Wanda’s book, you make sure to save her spot before setting it on the coffee table and stretching out on your stomach. 

The urge to rut your hips and grind into the cushion is strong, but you refuse to be caught in such a position. You could control yourself, you weren’t some… animal that just gave into their urges on a whim. But, you were pretty sure that wouldn’t last long tonight. 

After some time, Wanda calls your name from the bedroom. You feel your heart rate jump in anticipation, the heat between your thighs becoming almost unbearable. 

You slowly walk toward the room, steeling yourself as your nerves spike with excitement. The room is dark when you enter, a single lamp illuminating Wanda’s figure as she sits on the edge of the bed. She’s holding something in her hands, and you smile at her as you close the door behind you. 

“Put it on me, sweetheart,” you murmur, stepping further into the room. 

“Come here then,” Wanda says, her voice only slightly shaky as she commands you. A slight chuckle escapes you before you raise an eyebrow at her and move to stand directly in front of her. 

Her hands tremble slightly as she raises the harness to your hips, the dark red strap-on looking absolutely perfect in the dim lighting. God, you really hoped this spell worked. 

“I said the incantation correctly, so just… let me know what you’re feeling, okay?” Wanda says softly, her hands quickly securing the straps around your hips and thighs. 

You let your hands run through her hair as she works, your fingernails scraping against her head slightly. Feeling her tighten the last strap, you watch her lean back to admire her handiwork.

“Well,” you say, tilting your head. “Go on.” 

Wanda looks at you with wide, hungry eyes. Her pupils are already blown, and you know that she’d probably worked herself up just by enchanting the dildo. Sliding off the bed, Wanda gets on her knees in front of you, her hands coming up to rest on your hips. 

“Suck it.”

Obeying, Wanda wraps her lips around your strap, and that’s when you feel it. 

Oh. God. 

The sensation of her lips and tongue swirling around the tip of your strap causes your knees to buckle. Wanda’s strong hands support you, spinning you around until you’re seated on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping the comforter tightly. 

Emboldened by your reaction, Wanda takes you further into her mouth, loving the way you moan and buck your hips. One of your hands moves to grip her hair, the painful sensation causing her to moan. 

Everything happens all at once. Her moan vibrates against your strap, and the added sensation causes your orgasm to wash over you. It’s powerful, and you lose control slightly as you fuck yourself further into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. 

Wanda’s fingers dig into your hips, but you hold her head painfully still as you spasm and jerk, your orgasm causing all of your muscles to lock up. Her pitiful whines and choked sounds cause another, smaller orgasm to wash over you, and you pant as she takes you further down your throat. 

The sensation of Wanda’s head bobbing up and down your strap sends your brain into overdrive. You finally feel the aftershocks hit, the peak of your orgasm fading as pleasure continues to roll through you. 

“Fuck,” Wanda chokes, finally pulling her mouth free from your strap. She licks the tip, smiling at the way your hips jerk in response. “That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

A half moan, half chuckle escapes you. 

Slowly, you pull Wanda into a standing position, ignoring the way your over-sensitive strap jerks when her thigh touches it. You want this night to be perfect, and you want to show Wanda just how proud you are of her new enchantment. 

“Lie down for me, love,” you murmur, already looking forward to the feeling of her soaked core sliding against your strap. God, you can’t wait to sink into her and fuck her while feeling her around you. 

“I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

[edytae]

Mirror s*x (smut-mature) ft. Kim Taehyung x Reader

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, pure filth, sex in a bathroom, unedited.

word count: 17.2K

A/N: unedited

masterlist | drunk love | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | heat | Puppy Daddy |

————

“You are crazy,” you announced, watching Taehyung’s reflection in the mirror as he fumbled with the button of his pants. His hands moved quickly, but the urgency made him sloppy.

“Thanks,” he shot back bratty, clicking his tongue before flashing you a playful wink. His dark eyes were fixed on yours through the mirror, the mischief in them unmistakable.

You took your place. Your hands gripped the sink tightly, the cold porcelain grounding you as the heat between you two grew unbearable. He stepped closer to have your ass comfortably rest on his crotch again. You could feel him watching you—his eyes hungry, devouring every inch of your reflection as he pulled you in position.

You looked at him pointedly while his smirk grew. A loud cheer came outside of the door to the new song playing. “We don’t have much time.” You reminded him while Taehyung slowly chewed a non-existent gum. 

“We have all the time in the world, baby.” He dragged his knuckles down the fat of your ass, across the curve of your waist, teasing you until you felt like you might combust from frustration. His hands, then, revealed your peach to his eyes by lifting your skirt. 

His lips curled and a whistle left his mouth. “You were hiding this under?” Taehyung’s long fingers skimmed along the stitches of your flimsy thong.

“Taehyung…” You complained. “You said this would be quick!” Your ass shook in Taehyung’s hands. 

His eyes met yours. He was as frustrated as you were. “Don’t rush me.” He commanded. His hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the small bathroom. You gasped, your body jerking involuntarily at the sudden contact, a mixture of surprise and pleasure shooting through you. His hand lingered, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as his dark eyes met yours in the mirror.

“What have—” Your animated voice filled Taehyung’s ears before he gave you another smack. This time on the other cheek.

Your breath hitched as the pain spread. Taehyung's fingers traced slow, lazy circles over the reddened skin where he had just spanked you. He wanted to get on his knees and kiss the bruised skin, but if he went down now, he knew you would complain ten times more.

“I wanna eat your ass so bad…” He slurred.

Your body peeked, “You can’t!” You immediately opposed, but Taehyung’s hooded eyes looked at you beggingly. “Taehyung, we can’t do that here. Later, okay?” 

There was no way you could let Taehyung get on his knees in this filthy frat house bathroom.

Taehyung felt his eyes fill with tears. Would it be too dramatic if he cried?

“Promise me?” He asked sternly.

You nodded while his hands grabbed fistfuls of your ass. 

Your agreement brought a smile back to Taehyung’s lips as he continued kissing you. His lips mostly focused on your neck as he pressed your back to his chest.,

“Shh!” He cooed every time your back arched. “Keep that ass moving…” He reminded when your hips got tired. 

A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, but Taehyung didn’t let up. His hips pressed against you with purpose, each slow grind pushing you closer to the edge, teasing you just enough to keep you craving more. He smirked against your skin, knowing exactly what he was doing.

You tried to keep up, to keep moving your hips as he wanted, but the overwhelming pleasure made it hard to focus. Your breaths came out in shaky gasps, your hands gripping the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. “Taehyung,” you whimpered, your voice strained with desperation. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“Not yet,” he growled softly, his tone both firm and reassuring. His hands slid up your sides, one of them slipping under your shirt to grasp your breast, squeezing gently. "You're going to hold out for me."

“Taehyung…” you whispered; your voice barely audible but thick with desire. “I can feel how hard you are… it's driving me crazy.”

His reaction was immediate. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and ragged. “Is that turning you on, baby?” he murmured, his tone smug but laced with the same arousal coursing through you.

Your body responded instinctively, pressing back against him, craving more of the heat, more of the friction. “So much,” you confessed, your breath catching as his hardness rubbed against you with every subtle movement. “I need you so bad, Taehyung… I can't take it anymore.”

He chuckled softly, his hips grinding slowly into you, making sure you felt every inch of him. “I can tell,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “You're soaking wet for me, baby. I can feel that too.” His words sent another wave of heat through you, and you let out a soft whimper, pushing your hips back harder in response. 

His calm demeanour was maddening, but the way he looked at you—his gaze dark, intense, and filled with hunger—made you want to give yourself over to him completely. His grip on you was firm, possessive.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your neck. "You feel too good on my dick," he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. The slow drag of his hardness of jeans between your slick folds had you trembling. His fingers dug into your hips as he controlled the rhythm, ensuring you felt every inch of him with each torturous grind.

You whimpered, your body aching for more, but Taehyung was in no rush. His eyes stayed locked on yours through the mirror, watching every flicker of desperation and need that passed over your face. "Tell me what you want, baby," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

"I want you inside me," you pleaded breathlessly, your voice shaking as your hips bucked back against him. "Please, Taehyung… I can't wait anymore."

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across his lips as he adjusted his stance behind you. He guided himself to your entrance, teasing you with the tip, not yet giving you what you craved. He was drawing it out, savouring every second of your impatience. "You want it that bad?" he asked, his tone taunting but thick with his own barely contained need.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely audible. "Please, I need it."

Without another word, Taehyung decided it was enough. He pulled down his boxers to let his dick sprung out. He didn’t waste time to take your underwear off. He pulled the string to the side.

Taehyung’s cock teased you mercilessly, his tip resting just below your entrance, slipping between your slick folds but never quite where you needed him. The sensation had your nerves on edge, and frustration bubbled inside you with every passing second.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Letting go of the sink, you turned your head slightly to glare at him through the mirror, your fingers reaching back to squeeze his arms tightly. His smirk only grew, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, but you were past caring about teasing or games.

“Taehyung,” you hissed, your eyes blazing with frustration and arousal. “Stop messing around.”

He raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes locking onto yours in the mirror, the cocky glint in them never wavering. “Oh?” he asked, his tone smug as he continued to press his tip against your folds, refusing to move forward. “What are you going to do about it?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the overwhelming desire mixing with annoyance. You wanted him now—no more teasing, no more waiting. You pushed back harder against him, grinding your hips in a futile attempt to get what you so desperately craved, but Taehyung only chuckled darkly, enjoying the way you writhed against him.

Your eyes narrowed, a sly grin curling on your lips as you met Taehyung’s gaze in the mirror. The tension between you both was electric, every nerve in your body screaming for him, but you knew how to get under his skin. If he wanted to play games, you could play them better.

"Maybe I should go find Namjoon," you said with a slow, deliberate tone, watching his reaction closely. "He’s been trying to impress me for days." You shifted your hips again, grinding back against Taehyung’s cock just to drive the point home.

Taehyung’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. 

His eyes darkened as he harshly pulled you closer, lips brushing your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You think Namjoon could handle you the way I do?" he growled softly, his voice dripping with jealousy and arousal. "Think again, baby."

You hummed softly, pretending to consider it, teasing him further. "He’s been so sweet lately… I’m sure he would fuck me when I ask him to."

The words had barely left your mouth when Taehyung’s hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. His expression was no longer playful; it was dark, dangerous, and dripping with territorial lust. "You’re not going anywhere," he growled, his voice low and commanding.

You smiled, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him. "Then make me stay," you challenged, your voice daring, eyes blazing with desire. "Please…"

Without hesitation, Taehyung’s body moved with raw determination. He shifted, aligning himself with your entrance, and in one swift, possessive motion, he thrust deep inside you. 

The sudden, intense fullness made you gasp, your body arching in response. Your body slipped between his arms as you tried to ground yourself in between pleasure and pain. 

Taehyung cursed, “Fuck! Baby, you okay?” He felt your raw insides clench sporadically around him.

Your breath hitched, your knuckles going white as you gripped the sink for stability. The sudden intensity left you trembling, a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you, but you managed a shaky nod. "I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice was barely audible. "Just... don't start."

"Take your time, baby," he murmured, his voice soothing as he watched your reflection in the mirror. "Your bratty mouth caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to push you too hard."

Taehyung noticed the way you tensed, feeling the tight clench of your muscles around him. He realized he had been too intense, too eager. Gently, he slowed his movements, pulling out almost completely before easing back in with deliberate care. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you with a softer touch, allowing you to adjust at your own pace.

You took a deep breath, trying to relax your muscles as he gave you space to adjust. The gradual pace allowed you to feel every inch of him more comfortably, and you began to clench around him repeatedly, adjusting to the rhythm that suited you. Each time you tightened around him, Taehyung let out a low groan, his grip on your hips tightening in response to the sensation.

You chuckled deeply, “I love it.” Another breathless laugh escaped your lips. “I love how much you stretch me. And… ah– how deep you go.”

Taehyung's breath hitched at your words, a deep groan escaping his lips as he felt the way you responded to him. His movements became even more deliberate, his hands caressing your hips with a tender but firm grip.

"Is that so?" he murmured; his voice rough with desire. He could feel the way you clung to him, the way your body seemed to crave every inch of him. "I’m glad you’re enjoying it."

You began to clench around him repeatedly, adjusting to the rhythm that suited you. Each time you tightened around him, Taehyung let out a low groan, his grip on your hips tightening in response to the sensation.

"That's it," he encouraged softly, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. "Just like that. You're doing so good."

He thrusted slowly; each motion calculated to maximize the pleasure for both of you. 

Your laughter and moans echoing through the sink were music to his ears, driving him to move in a way that would keep you completely satisfied. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, guiding you to meet each of his thrusts, ensuring that you felt every bit of his length.

“How’s that?” He asked. 

You pouted, a playful edge to your voice as you managed to say, “Mhmhm, more to the right please.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to where you were, his smirk returning as he caught the hint of your need. He adjusted his angle, shifting his hips slightly to the right, aiming to hit the spot that you wanted.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice laced with teasing curiosity as he pressed forward with a bit more precision.

“Now, towards a bit left.” You asked, shaking your ass a tiny bit.

Taehyung’s smirk widened as he heard your playful demand. He shifted his angle to the left slightly, his movements smooth and controlled. “Like this?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he adjusted his thrusts.

You bit your lip, a mischievous glint in your eye as you watched his reflection. “Hmm, a bit more to the left,” you teased, your voice filled with playful authority. “You’re getting warmer.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed with a mix of amusement and challenge. He complied, shifting his angle slightly, his thrusts precise and calculated as he sought to hit the spot you craved. “Better?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

What was a little teasing game had actually turned true when you moaned loudly when Taehyung found the spot. 

Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he felt you moan loudly, a sign that he had finally hit the mark. The sound of your pleasure spurred him on.

“Found it, huh?” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

You cried out of pleasure. How could he find a spot that didn’t exist a few moments ago?

You nodded vigorously, your head resting against the cold sink. “Yes, right there,” you gasped.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed with a mix of triumph and desire as he heard your cries of pleasure. The way you responded to his movements only fuelled his passion further. With a confident smirk, he pulled out almost completely, savouring the sensation of being so deeply connected with you.

Then, with a deliberate and measured thrust, he pushed back in, aiming for that spot that made you gasp and moan with such intensity. The slow, deliberate motion allowed him to feel every inch of you, heightening both of your sensations.

You gripped the sink tighter, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as he continued to find and maintain that sweet spot inside you. Each thrust was calculated to keep you on the edge, ensuring that the pleasure built steadily and intensely.

His hands rested on your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, while trying to hold you up. “Like that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction and desire.

That’s perfect.” you managed to breath out, your voice trembling with both pleasure and the effort to stay upright. “Keep it up and I’ll–”

Taehyung’s rhythm grew steadier and more purposeful, his thrusts deliberate as he kept hitting that exact spot. Taehyung snickered, “You will cum, baby?” 

Taehyung’s rhythm grew steadier and more purposeful. With, each thrust precise as he kept hitting that exact spot that drove you wild. The intensity of the pleasure was almost overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your moans blending with the pounding music from the party downstairs.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and the sound of your pleasure filled the small, cramped bathroom. Taehyung's movements were relentless, and the friction between you was making you both lose control. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and you could feel the waves of your impending climax crashing over you.

Just as you were on the verge of losing yourself completely, the sound of a knock on the door startled both of you. The sudden interruption made you stiffen, and Taehyung’s thrusts faltered for a moment.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Namjoon’s voice came through the door, filled with curiosity. The knock was followed by a second, more insistent one.

As the knock on the door echoed through the cramped bathroom, your panic surged. You pulled yourself upright, desperately glancing at Taehyung through the mirror. His demeanour was surprisingly composed, a stark contrast to your own frantic state. His eyes, though, reflected a calm resolve, as if he were completely unperturbed by the situation.

You turned back to face him, your eyes pleading. You needed him to stop, to make sure Namjoon didn’t discover what was happening. Your body trembled with a mix of arousal and worry, and you could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest. The urgency in your gaze was unmistakable.

Taehyung's expression remained steady as he assessed your distress. Without hesitation, he placed a firm hand over your mouth, his fingers pressing gently but effectively to stifle any sounds you might make. 

“Y/N, are you there?” Namjoon’s voice came through the door again, this time with more concern. The sound of the second, more insistent knock heightened the tension in the room.

“Yeah?” Taehyung replied casually, his voice steady, though his eyes were filled with mischief.

Namjoon paused for a second, seemingly unaware of the tension crackling inside the small bathroom. “Taehyung? Have you seen Y/N? I’ve been looking for her.”

Taehyung's smirk grew wider as he pulled yourself tighter against him, grinding into you as his hands grabbed one of your tits. 

Your teeth dug into his palm. His warm hands on your breasts were unacceptable. He knew how sensitive tits you got, and he regularly used that. He mimicked a mock pout for you. Despite his bullying, his thrusts had stopped.

You shook your head to the sides, signalling Taehyung to answer.

“Nah, haven’t seen her in a while. Why?” he said, his tone playful, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He fully pulled out, rubbed his tip to your entrance.

Namjoon’s voice came through the door again, more insistent this time. “I was actually thinking of asking Y/N if she wanted me to walk her home. It’s getting late, and I wanted to make sure she gets back safely.”

Taehyung’s laughter came out low and smooth, his amusement evident. His hands remained firmly on your body, though he had paused his movements. He seemed completely unfazed by the situation, finding the whole thing rather amusing.

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Taehyung said, his voice carrying a tone of casual dismissal. With that he pushed himself into you in one smooth go. You cried into his hand over your mouth. His stretch was delicious. He felt you tight grip on him as he continued to speak. “I bet Y/N’s already in bed. It’s a weekday. Probably wouldn’t want to get up now.”

As you looked up at him, your gaze met his in the mirror. His eyes, dark and intense, held a glint of mischief and confidence that made your heart race. The contrast between his calm demeanour and the fervent pleasure you were experiencing was almost too much to handle.

The low timbre of Taehyung’s voice sent shivers down your spine. It was smooth, deep, and incredibly alluring. You were also captivated by how handsome he looked; his features highlighted by the dim light of the bathroom.

His jawline was chiselled and sharp, the kind of jawline that made your fingers itch to trace its contours. His hair, tousled and slightly damp, fell in dark, seductive waves that framed his face just perfectly.

The blend of his alluring voice and his captivating appearance made it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. You were completely absorbed by him that you clenched around Taehyung involuntarily. 

 His brow arched in a mix of surprise and satisfaction as he felt the heightened pressure. His grip on your face tightened, his fingers pressing against your skin with a commanding touch. 

Unable to resist the urge, you pushed your back slightly against him, seeking more of the delicious pressure. The movement made your knees feel weak as Taehyung's dick plunged deeper inside you, hitting new, sensitive spots that sent shivers up your spine. 

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He said to your ear. His voice was very low, impossible to be heard anyone but you.

You shook your head in agreement, but your hips had mind of their own. 

While you fucked yourself on his dick, you continued to beg him with your eyes. His hand pressed into your mouth more. He assumed it would intimidate you, but his fingers near your lips were a blessing for you. 

You would love to suck them if he let you. 

To address your worried but careless demeanour, Taehyung abandoned his previous grasp on your breasts and instead brought your wrists together behind your back. His hold was firm and unyielding, effectively subduing you and leaving you at his mercy. The sudden shift in position disrupted your balance, rendering you entirely vulnerable to his control.

As you tried to regain your composure, the friction of your movements produced unmistakable noises despite the party still going on downstairs. 

“What’re you doing in there, Taehyung?” Namjoon’s voice was now laced with suspicion, clearly disturbed by the sounds emanating from the small room.

Your body froze in his hands.

“Some careless girl dumped her alcohol on me. Got all of my clothes wet. I’m gonna take a shower if you let me.” Taehyung pointedly said. 

“Whatever!” There was a brief silence, and then Namjoon’s footsteps retreated, the sound of the loud party music filled the bathroom.

Taehyung turned his full attention back to you, his expression a mix of amusement and mock irritation. “You wanted us to get caught?” he asked, his tone light but with an underlying edge. He released your covered mouth.

You looked up at him, trying to catch your breath. “No, of course not,” you managed to say, your voice breathless. “I didn’t expect him to come knocking like that.”

Taehyung wiped and gently wrapped his fingers around your neck, his touch surprisingly tender. “You got so tight, baby. You liked fucking me when he was out?” he whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Dirty girl…”

You met his gaze, your eyes conveying a mix of apology and desire. “Ah, don’t act like you would love it for him to watch this!” you murmured, feeling the intensity of the moment.

Taehyung’s eyes darkened with a mix of amusement and a hint of something darker as he processed your words. He spoke, his voice low and sultry, “I would love if Namjoon knew you were here with me.”

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, each word dripping with a provocative edge. He pushed his knee between your legs and pushed your legs apart. 

With your legs more opened, he was able to give you fuller thrusts. “I wouldn’t mind him knowing. “But” he added, his tone shifting to one of possessive intensity. 

He gave a particularly deep stroke and let your head fall on his shoulder “I don’t want anyone to see you like this…” Taehyung hiss when your knees buckled. Thankfully, he had an iron grip on your wrists.

“You’re like my little pornstar… Look at that face! Fuck.” He watched your face crumble in pleasure while trying to maintain a pout. 

Taehyung’s grip on you tightened as he continued his rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate. His eyes never left your face, observing every shiver and moan that escaped you. “Don’t pout, baby.” he encouraged softly, his voice a mix of tenderness and raw need. “Come on… Remind me of how pretty you look when you cum.”

You listened to him despite all the protest. You knew he could get you to that sweet orgasm high. And after all of this teasing, you deserved it. 

“I can cum?” You asked. 

Taehyung nodded, “Yes, baby…You can ride my face if you can get yourself to squirt.” His sinister laugh filled your ears. 

You would love that. Both squirting all over him and riding his face. You ground your hips back against him, throwing him off rhythm.

Taehyung’s control wavered for a moment. His grasp got stronger for as he struggled to keep himself composed as he watched you move for him. Your body was arched. You were curled to his pleasure, your lips almost touching his chin. 

His eyes were locked on the way your hips rolled against him, the way you so willingly let yourself go. “Please… F-faster.” You requested. 

“Did I get you motivated?” Taehyung amused before taking matters into his hands. He was focused this time, the pressure building steadily as he fucked you in and out.

You let out a soft moan, gripping the sink tighter. “Yess… Just like that!” you gasped, feeling the intensity of his movements.  “Don’t stop.”

Taehyung’s breath grew heavier as he continued, his focus solely on you. “Good,” he murmured, his hands pressing firmly on your hips as he deepened his thrusts. The heat between you both grew, each movement bringing you closer to the edge as he maintained a steady, pleasurable rhythm.

Taehyung started to move again, his hips rolling against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts. He was focused this time, the pressure building steadily as he filled you. The heat between you was overwhelming, each movement pulling you deeper into the haze of pleasure. The sound of your bodies moving together was now muffled.

"Good girl," he muttered. Each thrust made your legs quake, the sound of skin slapping against skin barely audible in the chaos of the party outside.

Taehyung's gaze remained fixated on your reflection in the mirror, mesmerized by the way your body moved in perfect sync with his. His breath ragged and uneven as his fingers tightened their grip on your wrist. "I love how you take me," he groaned, his voice rough with desire, the praise sending a rush of warmth through your veins.

The pleasure mounted rapidly, the feeling of him filling you so completely that your mind went blank with need. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, consumed entirely by the sensation of Taehyung's body against yours.

You pouted at him through the mirror. You were impossibly wet. You showed no resistance whilst Taehyung pushed himself in, yet you clenching over as he was going to run away.

“Please make me cum, Taehyung…” You sniffled while your weak limps tried to keep you up. You knew this position was difficult for him. He needed to give your powerful, fast and yet precises strokes while supporting your entire body.

“Why didn’t you take me to your room?” You cried while feeling grateful that he was willing to dick you down in such a difficult position.

The way Taehyung looked at you through the mirror—dark eyes hooded with desire, lips slightly parted—made you feel completely exposed, yet utterly safe. He commanded the moment, his dominance undeniable, and you found yourself craving his control more than you ever had before.

Taehyung’s dark eyes met yours through the reflection in the mirror, his gaze smouldering with intensity. “Why didn’t I take you to my room?” he mused softly, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Because I wanted to see you if you let me do whatever I want to you… to get you so desperate.” He sighed, “You’re a sight to behold, you know that?”

The rhythm of his movements never faltered; each touch deliberate. You felt your breath quicken, the pressure in your chest building with every second, as if the weight of the connection between you was too much to bear.

“I can feel how close you are,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Let go for me, baby. I want to see everything you’re holding back.”

“Baby…” You cried. The pet names sounded sweeter when you called him. 

“That’s it,” he encouraged softly, his tone dipping into something deeper, richer, as he watched your face contort in pure bliss. “Don’t hold back. I’ve got you.”

And you believed him — that he wouldn’t let you fall, that he would hold you through it all. The bond between you in that moment was as powerful as the sensations coursing through you, and when you finally let go, it was as if everything inside you had shattered into light.

Your voice came out in a breathy moan, louder than you intended, but you didn’t care anymore. Taehyung only smirked, his satisfaction clear in the way he looked at you, proud of the effect he had on you.

Your orgasm hit with such force that your entire body convulsed, the trembling so violent it felt as though the room spun around you. Taehyung’s hands softened their grip as you shook in his arms, his movements slowing to a halt as he let you come down from the dizzying heights of your climax. The aftershocks made your muscles tighten and relax around him, and you could feel every inch of him still inside you, unmoving yet powerful. His breath came in deep, steadying exhales, giving both of you a brief respite from the overwhelming intensity.

As you leaned back against his chest, your body still humming with pleasure, you whispered, “Please continue…” Your voice was breathless, and yet there was a hunger in it, a craving that hadn’t been fully satisfied.

Taehyung’s dark eyes searched your face, concern flickering across his features. “You sure, baby?” he asked, his voice soft, as he gently stroked your arm. He could see the exhaustion in your expression, the way your body trembled in the aftermath. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you were determined. The way your gaze locked onto his made it clear. “Taetae, please…” you pleaded, the words slipping from your lips like a quiet command, even though your body felt like it could collapse any moment.

He hesitated for a beat, brushing his fingers over your sweat-dampened skin as if debating whether to give in to your request. “I came for you,” you said, your tone firmer now, despite your exhaustion. “Now, I want my prize.”

He smiled, “I am going to let you ride my face even if you don’t squirt, baby. It was just a joke.” 

You blinked at him, confusion mixing with the lingering haze of pleasure. “No… I want my prize,” you repeated, a quiet desperation in your voice. “I want you to cum in me.”

That was all it took. Taehyung’s expression shifted, his playful demeanour giving way to something darker, more intense. His eyes burned with a deep, unspoken desire as he cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing across your flushed cheeks.

“If that’s what my princess wants…” he whispered, his voice gravelly and low, sending a shiver down your spine. He adjusted his grip on you, positioning your body just right before pulling you closer again, his lips brushing your ear. “Then I’ll give it to you.”

The heat between you reignited with a force that took your breath away. Taehyung’s hands roamed over your skin, the intensity building again as he found his rhythm. His strokes were powerful, precise, each movement designed to send shockwaves through your trembling body. They were to quench his pleasure, not yours. Still, you could feel the pressure mounting once more, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you fought to keep your focus.

He dropped his head back carelessly, eyes closed as he let himself get lost in the moment, the tension in his body undeniable. You could feel him pulsing inside you, every inch of him filling you to the brim.

"You are so wet…" he muttered, voice strained and thick with desire. "You– you came for me…" The sound of his low voice was delicious. Everything about him was delicious.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his words barely audible over the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. “So beautiful, baby…”

You felt your body responding, the tension coiling tighter inside you as he continued, his pace relentless yet calculated. Your hands gripped his arms, nails digging into his skin as you held on for dear life. “Taehyung, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaky, as you felt that familiar build again.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me take care of you.”

It wasn’t long before you felt the moment cresting again, your body on the edge of another release. But this time, you were determined to take him with you. “Cum for me,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. “Please, I need you.”

Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him as you reached for that final release. The heat between you was unbearable, and with one last thrust, you felt him spill into you, his body jerking with each pulse. His deep, guttural groan filled the air as he came undone, warmth flooding your insides as he filled you completely. 

When it was over, the two of you collapsed into each other, both of you breathless and spent. Taehyung wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you rested your head against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. The warmth of his body against yours felt grounding, a reminder that you were safe in his arms.

Taehyung’s head dropped forward, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he breathed heavily, both of you coming down from the intense high together, completely spent yet utterly satisfied.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice soft as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled at how soft he got. His fiery eyes gad calmed down. 

Taehyung’s breath still uneven but slowing with every passing second. His fingers gently traced your spine, sending a comforting warmth through your body as you both lay entwined, bodies humming in the aftermath.

Slowly, he turned you around in his arms. He joined you in your chuckle. His eyes met yours with a soft, almost tender intensity. Without a word, he leaned in and captured your lips in a delicate kiss. His lips were soft, the kiss unhurried yet filled with the emotions neither of you needed to voice.

You deepened the kiss instinctively, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging him closer. But as you did, Taehyung let out a sharp hiss, his body tensing beneath you. He pulled back slightly, a half-smile playing on his lips despite the clear discomfort.

"Ahh… careful, baby," he groaned, rubbing his side gently. "You really wore me out."

You grinned mischievously at Taehyung’s groan, feeling a small sense of pride that you had worn him out.

You hugged his chest. His shirt smelt delicious despite how much he sweated.  "Aww, poor baby," you teased, playfully rubbing his chest as you kissed the side of his neck. "Maybe I should give you a massage to help you recover."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "A massage, huh? You offering to take care of me now?" His eyes glimmered with amusement as he relaxed further into your arms.

You nodded, tracing slow circles on his chest. "You crave aftercare, baby?"

Taehyung’s smirk widened as he pulled you closer, his hand running gently down your spine. “I thought you were the hit and run type.” He wrapped his arms around you once again. This time only with sensual intentions.

You shook your head, still smiling as you leaned up to kiss his jaw. "Not when you look this good..."

He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter rumbling through your body as he tilted his head to look at you. “Not that I could run away. You would pull me into another bathroom and closet the next time.”

Taehyung’s hum was low and soothing, vibrating through his chest as his lips pressed against the top of your head. The warmth of his breath tickled your hair, and the gentle pressure of his arms around you felt grounding, almost like a protective cocoon.

You shifted slightly, aware of the slickness between your thighs. The intensity of the moment had left you both physically spent and emotionally raw, and even though you were sticky and exhausted, there was something comforting about staying exactly where you were—in his arms. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your back, the slow rhythm calming the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Just as you were about to respond with another teasing remark, a loud crash echoed from outside the room, followed by shouting. You and Taehyung froze, listening as the distant sounds of chaos at the party started to creep closer. The unmistakable wail of police sirens followed, growing louder with every second.

Your heart leapt into your throat. "Oh my god," you whispered, suddenly alert. You pulled back from Taehyung’s embrace, panic bubbling in your chest. "I need to get out of here."

Taehyung glanced towards the door. "Shit," he muttered, but he didn’t seem nearly as frantic as you were. While you scrambled to find your shoes, his expression remained calm, almost amused. He reached out to grab your arm, pulling you back to him.

"Wait, babe. You don’t have to run."

You blinked at him, wide-eyed. "Are you kidding? The cops are literally outside, Taehyung!"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his fingers brushing your arm as he grinned. “Stay over… I’ll share my bed. I promise."

You stared at him, incredulous. "Stay the night?"

Taehyung’s smirk returned, but there was a softness in his eyes as he tugged you back into his lap. "I’m dead serious. We’ll be fine. Besides," he added, his voice dropping lower, "you promised me a massage. I could really use it right now."

Despite the urgency of the situation, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his words seep into your nerves, calming the panic you’d felt moments ago. You sighed, biting your lip as you glanced between him and the door.

"Taehyung..." you started, but the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin made it harder to think about running. The tension in his muscles, the gentle glint in his eyes—he was pulling you back in, just like always.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Stay with me. You’ll give me that massage you promised, and I’ll eat you out. Deal?"

Your resolve melted under his touch, the panic slowly dissipating as you let out a shaky breath. "Fine," you muttered, finally giving in. "But if we get arrested, I’m blaming you."

Taehyung laughed, a low rumble that vibrated through your body as he hugged you tight. "Deal," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Now, how about we forget the sirens and start with that massage?"

He tugged on your arm like a little child.

You shivered slightly at the thought. His offer was undeniably tempting, an indulgence that was hard to resist. The thought of escaping the chaos outside was a big bonus to staying the night.

You looked back at him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and desire. “Okay,” you murmured, your voice soft but resolute. “I’ll stay.” 

Taehyung’s grin widened, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. 

Taehyung’s smile broadened, a look of satisfaction settling on his face. “Great,” he said, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “Let’s leave quickly. You can use the en-suite if you want to freshen up.”

While he tucked his dick in and pulled up his pants,  a sudden wave of frustration washed over you.

You pulled away slightly, a frown creasing your forehead. “Wait a minute,” you said, your voice tight with irritation. “You have a private bathroom, and you took me to this random bathroom for… what?”

Taehyung blinked, his expression shifting from amusement to concern. “I didn’t think—”

You cut him off, your frustration bubbling over. Taehyung’s face softened, and he reached out to gently touch your arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. I wanted to be spontaneous..”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “You are impossible,” you said, your voice softening. “I just—” you paused, looking at him with a hint of vulnerability, “I am going to fuck you in public space too!” You were definitely going to pull him in a situation where he will need to fuck you in a cramped space.

Taehyung’s eyes lit up with a mix of affection and admiration. He wrapped his one arm around you, placed his other arm under your legs to lift you effortlessly. “Of course,” he said, his voice tender. “Let’s get you to my bed.”

He opened the door of the bathroom. The cool air hit both of your faces. With you in his arms, he barely fit through the door. “Ouch, my back!” You whined.

Taehyung chuckled softly as he maneuvered through the narrow doorway, his arms firm around you. “Hold on,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement mixed with sympathy. He carefully adjusted his grip, making sure you were secure and comfortable despite the tight fit.

As he stepped out into the hallway, the cool air was a welcome relief after the heat of the previous moments. The hallway was dimly lit, and the sound of muffled music from the party downstairs seemed faint and distant now.

“Taehyung, be quick! We’ll get arrested!” You said, worriedly looking down the stairs.

“Almost there,” Taehyung reassured you, his steps measured as he carried you up the stairs. Each step was steady, though you could feel the strain in his muscles as he navigated the stairs with you in his arms.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Taehyung paused momentarily, adjusting his hold on you. “We have at least ten minutes, baby.” He said with a soft laugh.

He reached the door to his private room and gently nudged it open with his foot. The room was a sanctuary of calm, with its warm, inviting decor and soft lighting that created a cozy ambiance. He carefully crossed the threshold after taking off his shoes all while making sure not to jostle you too much.

As he approached the bed, Taehyung lowered you gently onto the soft, plush surface. The bed was spacious and inviting, with a comforter that promised a haven of relaxation.

He settled beside you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of affection and concern. “You okay?” he asked, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

You nodded, feeling the tension from earlier melting away. “Yeah, I’m good,” you said softly. “Thanks for carrying me.”

He winked at you and returned the look his door. 

“Do you think cops will get us too?” You asked while pushing your shoes off.

Taehyung smiled, his expression a blend of relief and satisfaction. “No, baby.” he said, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “Don’t worry about that. Just relax.”

With a casual flick, Taehyung picked up your shoes and tossed them toward the door, where they landed in a haphazard pile. He then climbed onto the bed beside you, letting out a groan of relief as his back sank into the soft mattress. The exhaustion was evident in his relaxed posture, but his smile was full of satisfaction.

“I’ll get the shower going for you in just a bit,” he said, his voice softening as he settled more comfortably. 

As Taehyung settled into the bed, you turned towards him, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence. You moved closer and wrapped your arms around his broad chest, nestling into him. His body was solid and reassuring beneath your touch, and the softness of the mattress seemed to amplify the safety you felt in his embrace.

Taehyung's smile grew as he felt your affectionate hug. He sighed contentedly; his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he basked in the loving closeness. Your touch was soothing, and he felt a deep sense of peace wash over him.

You pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks, your fingers brushed through his pretty locks. Taehyung's eyes fluttered closed, his breathing deepening as he began to drift towards sleep. The softness of your kisses and the warmth of your body against his made it difficult for him to stay awake.

Just before he slipped completely into the realm of dreams, you whispered softly, your voice carrying a hint of desire. “Taehyung, when can I ride your face?”

Taehyung's eyes opened shot. “Y/N!”

————

If you like this, please give it a like and reblog. Also, you MUST check my other works. masterlist | drunk love | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | heat | Puppy Daddy |

[moon7jay]

Gangbang?

okay since u didn't specify let me make this as a gang bang for hyung line specifically.

Shared Girlfriend : (Hyung Line)

Warnings : cum eating, spit, gang bang? I guess that's all.

This is my first work so I'd really love any kind of feedback and please forgive me for any mistakes <3

Heeseung knew he should not be making out with u in front of his members. He also knew that the dorm was no longer a safe place for you. He was a man after all, he could sense when jake tried to hide his boner everytime u got too close to him or sunghoon who couldn't look u in the eye and settled with staring at ur boobs while u talked animatedly with him and Jay who would leave subtle touches on your body, hands lingering far too long at times, all of which, u were too innocent to notice. Heeseung knew. But some sick part of him thrived in that, some twisted part of him imagined jake exchanging spit with u while he jerked off at nights, he wanted to watch u grinding on Jay's lap, wanted you to sit on sunghoon's face while u made out with heeseung, oh he was a sick sick man, but he couldn't help it. You were too sexy for your own good.

"Baby" he called out to you one night. You had just started drifting off to sleep when his voice disturbed your approaching slumber "yes hee? " you replied without opening your eyes.

"What do u feel about fucking my friends with me? "

Ok now that. That was enough to have ur eyes wide open, sleep long gone,sitting up to face your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Heeseung what the fuck?" U exclaimed

He only chuckled "dont tell me you haven't thought about it sweetheart, I could feel your pussy clenching on my dick when Jay walked in on us fucking"

Ur face flamed red with embarrassment and shame remembering that day and how turned on u had gotten when u saw how hard Jay had been watching u two fuck like animals.

"Cat got ur tongue?" Heeseung asked grinning like he caught u in a crime. He was a sick sick man who was trying to manipulate u into a fuck with his friends by using ur guilt against you while u will never have a clue that catching Jay palming himself while watching u two had made him instantly cum inside of u.

"S-so what u r saying is a threesome with Jay? " U hesitantly asked, biting your lower lip as the mere thought of having Jay's rough hands on your body aroused u to no end.

Heeseung chuckled and shook his head

"No baby, a fivesome, with all of them"

Well shit.

If someone told you that one day you would be bouncing on jay's cock while jake fucked your throat and sunghoon jerked off with your boyfriend, you would have laughed in their face.

But this was very real. The pleasure running through your body was very real. U moaned around Jake's cock when jay's thrust started to get frantic.

"Take him just like that baby, just like that" Jake groaned from above you,holding your face and using it like his own fleshlight while u gagged and choked on his cock, tears running down your face.

"Fuck her harder Jay or are u not man enough?" Heeseung panted from where he was sitting, his cock throbbing in his hand. The words were enough for Jay to pull out of you and flip u over, leaving Jake's cock throbbing while he folded u in half in a mating press and beat ur insides raw with his cock.

"Sorry man- Jay groaned looking at jake - gotta cum so deep in this pussy"

U moaned jay's name like a prayer as his thrusts got sloppy. Your eyes rolling back in ur head "oh-oh my god I can't" u screamed in ecstasy.

"Oh fuck yeah" He moaned "gonna breed your cunt-fuck- waited so long"

giving 3 more deep thrusts inside ur cunt he let his pleasure wash over himself, filling the cunt he'd been dreaming of to the brim. Your pussy clenching around him like crazy as you came all over his cock with a pornographic moan "shit shit shit" he groaned as u felt too good for his cock.

You were only beginning to come down from your high when you felt jake pushing Jay out of you and instantly fill your cunt with his own cock "Move man, I'm so close but I gotta do it in her pussy" He panted, too impatient to wait for you to come back to ur senses, your swollen pussy too inviting to resist. He'd been jerking off to u screaming on jay's cock and he was almost on the edge of a mind blowing orgasm.

U started crying from the overstimulation as jake started ramming himself inside of you,hitting your cervix again and again, brows furrowed as he looked down at your heaving body

"Such good pussy - he panted - no wonder heeseung's always inside of you"

"She's tight as fuck tho, need more fucking don't you whore? " Heeseung spoke rubbing his cock all over your face. U didn't realize when he got up from the couch and came on to the bed. As if muscle memory worked too fast, you stuck your tongue out for him

"Fuck yeah, you wanna take it in your throat yeah? Suck on a cock while u get rammed by one? " He asked mockingly, starting to push into ur mouth

You nodded dumbly as u let out a loud moan when jake came inside of you with a hard thrust "fucking hell" he moaned as he pulled out of your dripping cunt. He watched in awe as his and jay's cum leaked out of you.

"U gotta come and taste some of this pussy hoon, it's extra juicy for u holy shit" Jay said as he peered over jake to watch your abused and pulsating hole leak.

Just as u started deep throating heeseung's cock, u felt a tongue lapping up at your pussy. U figured it was sunghoon since jake and Jay were fisting their cocks, their eyes on your body getting used for pleasure.

"Ugh u feel so good baby, been so long since I fucked your fucking mouth" heeseung moaned. Your tears ran down your cheeks, your face covered in spit and you moaned as u felt sunghoon humming with your clit in his mouth.

"Tastes so good wanna stay in between your thighs forever" Sunghoon groaned between your folds, his tongue lapping up at your juices with a vigorous pace.

Your back arched as you felt him enter u in a single thrust, too impatient to warn you.

he was big, bigger than all the cocks you had taken in the past hours. Your nails scratched at heeseung's thighs,who was busy panting and thrusting into ur throat, his head falling back,mouth open in pleasure. U were trying to get away from sunghoon's monster cock but two big hands held your hips in place "don't want me inside? " Sunghoon asked as he bullied his cock into your swollen cunt with a groan, your tight walls struggling to accommodate him, his mind swimming in pleasure "too bad u got nowhere to run baby, gonna fuck all my pent up lust into this cunt tonight" he groaned as u clenched around him at his words. Above you heeseung's orgasm approached and he started fucking ur mouth with abandon. "Oh yeah, oh yeah so good, fuck her hoon, wanna see ur bulge in her stomach holy fuck" He panted. You moaned and screamed on his cock while sunghoon started ramming in your pussy, the stretch was painful for you but the pleasure outweighed everything else.

You heard heeseung curse and jake and jay's groan as sunghoon took your hand and placed it on ur stomach "feel that whore? That's me deep inside of you"

Your pussy clenched and the pressure in your lower belly snapped as you came all over sunghoon's cock, squirting all over the place

"Fuck"

"Shit that's so hot"

"Fuck yeah man"

U did not know who said what but heeseung came into ur mouth shortly after that, too lost in the pleasure

"Don't swallow" Jake warned you and u dutifully obeyed him as heeseung pulled out of your mouth.

Sunghoon hovered over your body, your hands came up to dig into his shoulders,god he was so much bigger than you. You could already feel yourself cum again just by looking at his fucked out expression and lustful gaze on you.

"Kiss her hoon, come on bro, give us a show" Heeseung spoke from somewhere and that's all you heard before sunghoon's tongue was moving into your mouth, lips engulfing yours, sharing heeseung's cum with each other as he started thrusting into your cunt with a new fervor.

"Shit holy fuck" someone exclaimed and you felt cum splatter over your thighs. Probably jake Or Jay Or heeseung. You did not know but at this point u did not even care as you were nothing but a cum dump for the four boys. Your body nothing but a means to their pleasure.

Sunghoon sucked on your tongue as his thrusts became frantic and sloppy. He burried his face in the crook of your neck as your nails dug into his back and he kept hitting your cervix like a madman. In and out. In and out. In and out. That's what man and woman were supposed to do right? In and out. Cock and pussy.

He bit on your shoulder as your back arched off the bed "fuck me sunghoon please oh my god" You screamed as your orgasm washed over you, your clenches sending sunghoon over the edge. You heard curses all around u and inside ur ear as sunghoon filled your pussy with his cum. That's all you remember as your vision blacked out with pleasure, your body too exhausted by being used so ruthlessly for hours.

You should do this more often, you thought as u drifted off to deep slumber.

[almostfoxglove]

ELEVEN STITCHES

as voted for by you for ⭐ my milestone celebration ⭐

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x Reader WORD COUNT: 3k CW: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical injury, blood, gore, and mild body horror. use of restraints (our man's strapped down) this is just fluff with blood.

SUMMARY: After Joel comes back from patrol injured, he wakes up restrained to a bed in Jackson's clinic where you've been tasked with patching him up.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

You’ve never seen him this close. Nor this peaceful: asleep, his lips a breath apart, dark lashes scalloped over his cheeks. Scarred and battered, yes. Tried, yes. Such blue hangs beneath his eyes. But if you squint—blocking out the leather straps and silver handcuffs restraining him to the metal clinic bed—the notorious Joel Miller looks almost sweet. As you pierce him for the first time with the bite of your needle, sewing closed the end of his jagged wound, you almost can’t imagine this guy hurting a fly. He looks so soft. 

Then you pull the stitch taut, the chasm of split skin narrowing, a fraction of the slick, red muscle below disappearing. One second out and the next second gasping, Joel Miller shocks to his senses like you’ve electrocuted him, his whole body thrashing against his restraints. You pull your hands back just in time to avoid stabbing him with the needle, catch his brown eyes black with terror—

No, scratch that. With rage. 

“Woooah, alright there,” you coo, needle idle in your hand despite the steady drip drip drip of his blood on the floor. “Easy tiger, it’s okay, we gotcha.”

But he’s all animal, all fight. Won’t stop bucking against the leather straps leashed over his shoulders and ribs—his hands ball to fists below their cuffs, metal pinching into joints. It takes him a minute to even register you, too busy writhing, his boots kicking at the end of the bed. Makes a horrible sound. You have to say his name twice to get Joel to turn his head, then it’s over for you. You’re dead. 

Or you would be if you hadn’t agreed to let Tommy strap his brother down when they’d dragged his body in. Saying, it’s for the best, doc. Trust me. Just seconds ago the man looked harmless, face slack and unmarred by the creases that now canyon his brow, and yet there’s no denying in this moment that Joel Miller could pull every kind of pain from you. Drain every ounce of your blood. 

Smiling calmly in the face of his fit feels not unlike watching a jaguar growl in a zoo behind the safety of a fence: in awe of a predator’s bloodlust and naively unafraid.

“You hit your head on patrol,” you say, and your voice is a lake untouched by weather. The picture of professionalism. “You know where you are?”

He’s gonna break a tooth grinding his teeth like that, but you don’t say. You just watch him blink and scan the room again, his arms taut in their shackles. The injured one is bared for you to work on, unveiling the ropes of muscle and sinew that strangle each other as he struggles. “Jackson,” Joel grits, and fixes you with that ire again as he blinks, lucidity slowly creeping into his eyes. He’d kill you, you think, if he only had a free hand. A free pinky finger. At least until this panic wears off.

“Atta boy,” you smile. “You know your name?”

“Where’s Ellie?” 

You click your tongue. “Don’t think that’s it.”

His glare spears through the center of your skull—eyes that know no color but black, two tunnels of wrath-soaked violence. Stubborn, livid, in pain. He rocks his jaw left to right before answering with a stiff, “Joel.”

“Atta boy,” you grin, then return one hand to his arm above the dip in his inner elbow, hopeful Joel might let you resume your work, but he seizes the moment your glove grazes his skin. You don’t remove it. You need to steady him, close him up. 

You let out a patient breath. “You remember what happened?”

Something snaps then. His struggling returns with a vengeance, every muscle in his broad body fighting and fighting and fighting to get up. “Where’s—” he sneers, sharper now, “Ellie?”

Again the legs of the clinic bed squeal on the tiled floor, shearing as nails on a chalkboard—your ears tweak. 

“Hey—hey, it’s okay. She’s okay,” you hush him, lifting your hand again to show him your palms, your needle pinched between two fingers and attached to the arm he’s yet to notice is bleeding. “She’s alright, didn’t even need a stitch. We checked her for a concussion and she’s clear. You, on the other hand—”

“Take me to her, right now,” Joel growls, more animal than man.

You sigh, draw up restraint from its deep, deep well. “Can’t do that yet, honey. Gotta finish patching you up first, hm? That sound alright?”

Joel’s nostrils flare, upper lip peeling from his teeth as he snarls.

“Take me to Ellie. Right. Fuckin’. Now.”

“And here I was thinking Tommy was fucking with me when he suggested the restraints,” you tease, then soothe the palm of your hand over his bare shoulder. To your dismay Joel only thrashes again, trying to get away, so you set down the needle on the bed beside him and nudge your chair back to give him some air. “Not here to hurt you. But you got cut pretty bad, and I think once this adrenaline wears off you’re gonna be glad you let me finish this before releasing you on the world. But, here. One second—”

You hold up one finger and roll your chair back, kicking yourself over to the clinic room door. With the toe of your shoe, you shove it open a crack, letting in blue fluorescence from the hall. “Ellie?” you call into the corridor.

After a moment of quiet a far-off voice shouts in reply, “What?”

“Say hi to Joel for me, will you honey? Afraid he might Hulk out over here before I get him closed up.” A beat of silence hangs the air in which you peek at Joel with a smirk before Ellie yells out from a distant room,

“I’M FINE JOEL.”

“Thanks, honey,” you call back. When you’ve kicked yourself back to his bedside, Joel has settled to quiet seething. “Better?”

A grunt’s about as much as you could hope for. Smiling, you pluck up your needle again. “Alright. Think we’ve got ten stitches to go. Tell me what you remember.”

“I’m tied down,” Joel says instead, letting his eyes sink closed. Exhausted, you suspect. In no small amount of pain. But he doesn’t jump this time when your hands return to his arm, nor when the needle bites his broken skin. Little wins. 

Like magic, you’re a seamstress again. Once upon a time blood turned your stomach—even cheesy horror movies could trigger a storm of nausea—and any needle you took up was destined only to patch a quilt or save someone’s favorite shirt, never their flesh. Times change. Now you can stare down every kind of gore with an iron stomach and eerie calm. Any skin, any body, becomes a project to you when you’re working. Just a little cloth in need of mending.

“Very observant,” you tease with a small chuckle, daring to glance at Joel’s eyes as you pull the next stitch tight. A muscle ticks in his jaw but he doesn’t move. “Humor me a minute longer, okay?”

“There was,” he starts to say, “half a dozen of ‘em, maybe. We were—mmph—a mile out, had this lookout spot on a roof we usually check.”

“Mhm,” you hum, attention fixed on the disappearance of pink. 

“Don’t know how they got up there. Thought we had ‘em all but one was hidin’. Knocked me down the—think it knocked me down the fire escape.”

You nod along. “Eight more,” you interject in his next pause. “You remember how you got this?”

As his head turns, Joel’s curls scratch the stiff pillowcase and he looks down at his arm for the first time as if he too is looking at nothing more than an old quilt. Something that’s not quite his, not quite a body. “Was glass on the fire escape,” he mumbles. “Broken window I guess.”

Then he drags his eyes to you, bringing a singeing of a different kind. Maybe your jaw feathers, maybe it doesn’t. But something in your chest undeniably flares. “Well,” you grin. “Think we can rule out memory loss.”

Joel hmphs.

“Got six more.” 

You begin the next stitch. More red tissue seams, breathing pride into your bones. Can’t fix much these days, not on any meaningful scale, but you can do this—close one wound. Make one small thing right for the person on your table.

“Gonna untie me?” you hear Joel say.

With a small grin you glance up at him through your lashes. “Gonna lie still?”

His jaw rocks, considering this, maybe swallowing some snarky answer—but in the end he nods. Something hard deflates in his chest, that last pillar of hostility, so you too resign. Set down the needle again; it’ll need to be cleaned. When you stand over the clinic bed the weight of him watching you grows heavier and heavier until flicking open the buckles that cross his chest becomes an arduous task, your hands slow like they’re pushing through water. The metal clink of each loosening clasp is deafening. Then the thud of the leather belts slinking away, dropping to the floor. You pluck the key for the cuffs from your silver tray, toggle open each round jaw, and Joel lifts the arm that isn’t bleeding just enough to roll his wrist out, opens and closes his fist.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Sure thing.”

Gloves snap off and a new pair snaps on. You dunk the needle into a small bowl of vodka—it’s not perfect, but you make do, grateful for whatever supplies find their way to you—and at your side Joel remains stationary like he promised. A man of his word.

“We met before?” he asks, as you return to your stool. A voice like that oughta be bottled—coarse and deep and dragged through rubble. It could do terrible things to you, now that you’re listening. Now that you’re aware of being observed—feeling the tables have turned, that you’re the one being observed.

You don’t look at him. You stitch the quilt, bid adieu to thinning red tissue. “I haven’t worked on you before today,” you say evenly.

Joel goes quiet again.

“Four more,” you go on, pulling the thread. 

“Don’t know your name,” Joel says.

“Like I said, honey,” you reply. “First time patient.”

Below your hands Joel’s arm twitches at honey, or else it looks like it does, but he keeps it where it lays. “Meant outside of here,” he says.

A grin tucks into your cheek as you shake your head. “Seen you around,” you admit, eyes fixed on his closing wound. “But no. Not officially.”

You swear you feel him squint even though you can’t see his face, not hunched over like this, focused. “Officially,” Joel echoes, as if he’s trying out the word. Rolling it on his tongue, getting a taste. It’s a question without the punctuation—he wants you to elaborate.

“Three left,” you tell him, heart quickening.

Another hmph. A wordless press, another way around asking while still asking. Stupid, you flick your eyes to his face for only a moment, find him already staring at you, his eyebrows folded down so thoughtfully.

“Holding up alright?” you say. 

“What’s officially mean,” Joel asks.

Two stitches, that’s all. Two little knots and you can cut the thread of this conversation and send him on his way. Catch your breath before it shortens when he’s close enough to hear. You shrug. “Means we haven’t introduced ourselves. Haven’t really spoken before.”

He’s frowning in the corner of your eye. “But we’ve met,” he extrapolates.

“Last one,” you say.

“Dodgin’ my question.”

A traitor, your mouth slips up and grins—brief but telling, that shy tense of your cheek. “Barely,” you reply, pinching the needle through his arm once more. You secure the final knot with a small tug and reach behind you for the scissors, then snip. Project done. Quilt mended.

“Alright, just need to clean and wrap it and you’ll be a free man,” you tell him, rolling yourself back on the stool to browse your tray of supplies. Your fingers dance briefly over the gauze and medical tape as you consider your instruments, all the final touches necessary to make things tidy and neat. 

Behind you, the clinic bed squeaks as Joel shifts but you don’t hear his boots touch the floor.

When you roll back to his bedside, he’s sitting up, one leg hinged on the papery bedsheet and the other hooked over the edge at the knee, his boot swaying and laces hanging loose like two long streamers. Impatience bleeds across his face, and though it’s not quite anger in his eyes you nonetheless feel something in your body straighten. Sitting like this, Joel looms over you and your stool. No longer shackled, filthy and blood stained. Dangerous. 

This isn’t fear, though—it’s something worse. 

You hold out one gloved palm, closing your fingers twice in a silent give it here and Joel obeys, setting his forearm in your hand. Warm and heavy and tense—muscle ticking as you drag the alcohol-soaked pad across his stitches.

Your silence broods in the stale clinic air. A vapor you can feel on your skin.

“I was a dick, then,” Joel presses, breaking the uneasy quiet. He’s looking down at his arm as you wind stripe after stripe of stale gauze around the trunk of his injury as if entranced. As if shy. As if ashamed.

“Wasn’t your fault,” you surrender.

“Doubt that.” A dry chuckle follows, to your surprise. Such a warming sound.

Perhaps unprofessional, you laugh softly too and Joel’s head lifts at the sound. “You, uh—” you begin to say, pausing to find the right word. When you’ve got him wrapped well enough, you clip the gauze from the roll. “ We ran into each other in the mess hall, sorta bowled me over. Don’t think either of us was looking where we were going.”

You leave out the bit where he’d spat out watch it as he went, not slowing down for a second. Even then you didn’t blame him—sure, you’d bristled. Frowned, even, as he glared back at you over his shoulder. But he’d been with Tommy, clearly in the middle of some argument, and the anger he swung at you was wrongly aimed. You didn’t care. Later you even found it kind of funny. You’d glimpsed him for years at a distance, heard whispers, and more than a few of your friends had expressed hopeless infatuations with the inscrutable eldest Miller. Reporting that you’d run straight into his solid chest by accident had all of you laughing.

Joel looks to be remembering. Or rather he appears to be failing to, scowl deepening as you tuck the bandage’s end. Without thinking, you bend over to reach for his boot and retie his lace. There. Safe, secure. Fixed. 

“Voila,” you say, then push yourself back from him with a smile. “You are good to go.”

But he doesn’t move. Joel just sits there with his wrapped arm—his bare arm—resting in his lap, twisting one way and then the other, fidgeting. Eyes ticking between bandage and boot, perhaps surprised. “Don’t remember that,” he says. Like this you can see the crown of his head, all those silver laced locks that lick up in all curling directions, tousled and untamed after patrol. His broad frame droops as he sinks into something that looks too much like shame. 

Shaking your head is pointless; he isn’t looking at you. “Was more than a year ago, honey,” you say. “And it really wasn’t anything. I laughed about it, promise.”

Before he can answer, the door swings wide and a grin appears in its frame, squared by that eerie blue light. Ellie’s hair is getting long, the front bits tied back from her face, and the side of her baggy shirt is stained with darkness—Joel’s blood, if you had to guess. Long dry. 

“Hi,” she says to you, eyes round like she’s surprised to find you’re still here, since Joel’s clearly handled. 

“How ya feeling?” you ask.

A short nod, mischief in her grin. “Pretty good.” Then she turns her attention to Joel. “I’m starving.”

So you stand to give them some privacy, collecting everything from your tray that needs cleaning up, bagging the small mountain of red-stained scraps that had mopped the worst of the blood. Another metal creak, then the thump of Joel’s boots as he stands. You hear Ellie say, “Thanks, doc,” and twist over your shoulder to give her a wave.

The door swings closed.

“I wanna see those stitches in a week,” you tell Joel, busy with your tools. “But take the wrap off in a day or two, keep it dry. If you have any trouble—”

“I know where to find you,” he finishes.

He’s almost grinning when you turn your head, eyes crinkled but lips flat, pulling the second sleeve of his flannel back on. Yes, soft was right. You can see it again, clear as ice or moonshine—the tender center tucked under battered shell. 

You watch Joel cross the room with long, loping strides. Your friends might’ve been onto something, unfortunately. You like the shape of him up close, the surety in the way he moves. With his good arm, Joel opens the door and steps into its frame and though you expect him to go without goodbye, he hesitates in the doorway. Props the entrance open with the toe of his boot. 

You lift an eyebrow at him and the muscle of his tongue wets his bottom lip in reply. Fine—your friends are definitely onto something. You feel likely to melt if he intends to keep looking at you like this, with something dark in his eyes. Animal of a different kind.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Joel says, voice drawled and low so as not to be overheard, and here’s another peek at that something softer: his lips curling once more, just enough to dimple one cheek. “Promise.”

“See you in a week,” you tell him, and Joel nods before going.

You expect seven days to pass before you see him again.

He comes back in four.

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[genacity]

DAY FOUR. LOCKJAW

ft. vi — league of legends / arcane

after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. afab! reader, sub! vi, aphrodisiac chocolate, degradation, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, slight overstimulation, vi uses nicknames for the reader (babe, baby, honey, sweetheart)

an. mommy mama oh god. this one is a little short bcs its like kind of vanilla or whatever but oh my god mother vi i would let her #### me til i ###### ngh. also i know i said i didn’t like the word cunt but I HAD TO USE IT I WAS USING PUSSY TOO MANY TIMES IT HAD TO HAPPEN IM SORRY!!!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

“slow down, y/n, please,” your girlfriend vi whined, hips jolting away from your tongue. “you’re being so rough, baby please.”

today you came home from work a bit tired. so, your beloved decided to surprise you with some chocolate. of course, you couldn’t deny a sweet treat. but a few moments after taking a bite, the world seemed so humid all of a sudden.

after fumbling around hazily for the discarded box, you found out that the chocolate had an aphrodisiac in the strawberry filling. some hormones or something, you don’t remember — not like you could when you were pushing your girlfriend into bed, ready to ravage her like a wild animal.

“sit still.” you instructed, burying your face into her pussy and licking a stripe up to her clit. she flinched and shied away; only to be dragged back down onto your face with your hands digging into her thighs.

vi whimpered, feeling your fingers hold her right in place. “i — baby, i’m sorry, i just wanted to try something out, babe—” she tried to explain, writing and jerking as you ate her out. “don’t apologize,” you murmured. the vibrations of your voice against her clit made her moan quietly. “just sit back and take what i give you, okay?”

she hesitated, but eventually nodded slowly and felt herself lean back into the bed. her thighs clenched around your head as you dove back down, tongue fucking her slowly.

as you kept working at her pussy, your hand made its way over to accompany your tongue. your middle finger was the first to slowly work its way inside of her, causing vi to gasp and writhe against the sheets.

“baby, oh god…” vi gasped, voice weaving weakly in and out of moans. again her hips tried to shy away from you. you pulled her back down with your free hand onto your lips before using the same hand to smack her thigh, causing her to jolt and whine. her voice left you wet, thoughts racing as you clenched your thighs together.

your finger worked in and out of her, pumping hastily as you pulled her down further onto your face. nose buried against her clit, your tongue worked at her core like a dying man’s first taste of water.

you slipped another finger inside of her, ring finger accompanying the middle. using the hand digging into her flesh to further spread her legs, burying your head in between vi’s thighs as she let out a strained gasp.

she let out another breathy moan. “you’re so fucking good at this, oh my god baby, please…” vi mumbled, voice going hoarse as your fingers sped up. you hummed to show her you were listening, and again the vibrations of your voice against her clit made her groan.

the haze of the aphrodisiac left you with more stamina than usual. your jaw and mouth working fast, tongue only working faster as your fingers struggle to keep up. your lips were sloppy against vi’s cunt. every lick and suck at her core was desperate and almost animalistic. her noises left your own pussy soaking in your underwear.

“babe — baby. baby, i’m gonna cum,” vi’s stomach muscles tensed and un-tensed as her hips began to grind down onto your tongue. “i’m gonna cum. please, love, i’m gonna cum.”

again you hummed, nose pressed against her clit as she came around your tongue with a drawn out gasp. but when you didn’t stop, she jerked up and tried to scramble backwards once more.

you brought your hand down onto vi’s thigh again, continuing to fuck her pussy with your tongue as she let out a strained moan. “babe, honey, ‘s too much,” she began to babble, grabbing at your hair as you kept thrusting your fingers and tongue into her. “i — i just came. sweetheart, i just came!”

“you can cum again.” you muttered in between her legs. she whined, thighs closing in around your head once more. “no. no, i can’t. i — i can’t do it, please, i need a break..”

but you didn’t stop. you wouldn’t unless you heard vi say the one word that would truly put all of this to rest. not even once your jaw began to cramp and lock and your wrist became sore from hitting her sweet spot over and over again.

until then, you’d continue to have your share. of your girlfriend, and the rest of that chocolate.