petersspidey

[petersspidey]

was it ever fake? — jack abbot x fem!reader You and Jack unexpectedly meet at a friend’s wedding weekend. Jack starts a game of pretend-relationship out of boredom. And that’s it…right?

warnings: fake dating trope, one bed trope, 18+ mdni, smut, mutual pining, masturbation (f), p in v sex, shower sex, unprotected, wrap it before ya tap it, not proofread at all, slight voyeurism, fingering, breeding kink if you squint, age gap implied-not specified, reader is a fellow, Jackson Avery cameo, purely self indulgent, fluff, just a feel good fic a/n: I made a vacation fic for Robby and have been dying to make one for Jack, so this is it. And I wanted to make two parts, but I figured one very long one would be better soooo enjoy! wc: 8.6k+ ok this one got away from me a bit masterlist

Day one

A whole weekend to celebrate marriage. You smile to yourself when you see the wedding invitation, thick ivory paper, embossed with gold leaf and tied with satin ribbon, with your friend’s name and her soon-to-be husband; Amy and Harry. When Amy first mentioned she was inviting you to the wedding, you said yes without hesitation, you just didn’t expect it to be a weekend long wedding.

Your cab rounds a hill, revealing a secluded five-star resort hotel tucked between towering pines. The stone pathways are lit with fairy lights, and the air smells like lavender and fresh earth. Amy’s always wanted her wedding to have an enchanted forest theme, and it looks like she got it.

You step out of the cab and are immediately greeted by hotel staff.

“Welcome,” one of them says with a polite smile. “May I have your last name for check-in?”

You walk to the counter and give your name, soaking in the view of the forest from the grand lobby. That’s when you catch a glimpse of a familiar profile just a few feet away, checking in as well. His broad shoulders and back is unmistakable.

“Jack?”

The man turns. His brows lift when he sees you. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

A smile pulls at your lips. “Nice to see you too.”

He laughs, slinging his weekend bag more comfortably over one shoulder. He’s wearing a simple, dark henley, jeans, and boots, and you curse yourself for how long you’re staring at his forearms. “What are you doing here?”

You gesture toward the resort. “I was invited. My friend Amy’s getting married. We’ve been close since high school. You?”

“I was Harry’s attending for a few years.” He says, “we go on morning runs together.”

You both stand there, processing. “Well,” you say, “small world.”

“You here alone?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah. I figured a three-day wedding was too much for a plus-one.”

You actually don’t have anyone to ask.

“Yeah… same,” he says.

You adjust your jacket and glance up at him. “Well. Looks like we’re each other’s only familiar face this weekend.”

Jack glances at you sideways, a smile playing on his lips. “Could be worse.”

Just then, the check-in staff hands over your key cards, and you go your separate ways, promising to catch each other later at night.

The first night of the wedding weekend is a casual dinner, just something to help everyone unwind after the long drive. There’s no assigned seating, no pressure, just softly lit tables scattered across the area and the low hum of laughter and clinking glasses.

You scan the crowd and spot Jack near the open bar, standing with his hands in his pockets, waiting on a drink.

You smooth your dress—wait, why? Your brows furrow. It’s just Jack. You work with him every day. You’ve seen him elbow-deep in trauma, yelling over chest compressions, running on three hours of sleep.

But you’ve never seen him like this. Standing there, wearing a nicely fitted navy button-up, the sleeves casually rolled past his elbows, the fabric pulls across his chest when he crosses his arms, and a glimpse of veins and muscle you’re trying very hard not to stare at. The light hits his hair just right. He looks…too good. Your mouth suddenly feels dry.

You swallow and start walking before your thoughts get any more dangerous.

He looks over just as you approach. “You look great.” Jack compliments.

“First time seeing me not in scrubs, Jack?”

He smiles, glancing away for just a second, “No, but not like this. You look beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

You’re about to order yourself a drink when Jack’s already flagged the bartender down. “Margarita, extra salt?”

You try to hide your smile. “Yes, please.”

It was months ago, when Shen made attending and everyone’d gone out to celebrate. You didn’t plan on getting drunk, so you stood back with Jack. He noticed your empty hands, then made it a game: guess your favorite drink by your expression alone. You ended up sharing ten drinks between you, laughing harder with each one, until he got it right—margarita, extra salt. You’d both been drunk by the end, but you’d remembered the way his eyes crinkled when you called him a sore loser. You’d remembered that night more than you probably should have.

And he hasn’t forgotten.

“You still remember my drink.” You point out.

He smirks, “Hard to forget when it took me 10 guesses.”

“And one hell of a good time?” You offer.

“With you?” He chuckles. “Always.”

You and Jack spend dinner at a small table for two, the buzz of the crowd fading into background noise. It’s the first time you’ve really talked—not flirted, not exchanged sarcastic quips in between traumas, but talked. About life outside the hospital. Your childhood. Books he reads when he can’t sleep. The way you like your coffee. How you both hate the same podcasts. It's easy and warm, and a little addictive.

You’ve never seen this side of him before. It makes it harder not to like him more than you already do.

It shouldn’t feel like this—any of this. But it does. Like a date. Like a weekend away together for a couple in love. You catch it in the way his eyes keep drifting to your lips, the way he hovers protectively when guiding you through the crowd, the quiet smiles he gives you when no one else is looking.

Whatever this is, it’s not just you. It’s different for him, too.

You’re in the middle of a conversation about some travel mishap of his when you hear a familiar squeal.

“Oh my God, you made it!”

You stand to greet your friend—Amy, glowing with excitement, bouquet swapped for a champagne flute. “Congratulations,” you beam, hugging her tightly. “Amy, I’m so happy for you. And this wedding? It’s like a Pinterest board came to life.”

She laughs, squeezing you back. “I’m so glad you’re here. And I want to let you know, if I’d done bridesmaids, you’d have been first on the list.”

You smile, touched. Meanwhile, Harry’s pulling Jack into a bro-hug.

“Wait,” Amy blinks, looking between the two of you. “You know Jack?”

“He’s my attending at PTMC.”

“Small world.” Harry comments, and Amy squints, connecting the dots. She glances between you and Jack, then grins like she’s just solved a puzzle.

“Wait a minute—are you guys… together?”

“Oh n—”

“Looks we’ve been found out.” Jack cuts in smoothly, sending you a wink.

You give him a questioning look. This was never something you talked about or planned, so you think he’s trying to pull a prank on you, or… nothing. You have no idea what’s going on.

“OMG since when??” Amy gasps.

“Only been a few months. Nearing a year.” He says.

A year???

Amy bumps your shoulder, “And you didn’t tell me?? I could’ve put you guys in one of the bigger, nicer rooms!”

“I—I…” You stammer.

“I suggested not to tell anyone,” Jack saves you. He somehow sounds like he has this all planned out. “Didn’t want to risk her reputation, you know.”

Harry nods understandingly. “Right, especially with your exams coming up.”

You chuckle nervously, “Ah, yeah… still need to take the exams.”

“You’re gonna do great.” Amy clasps your hands, “You’re the smartest person I know, you’re gonna ace it.”

You smile, flustered but grateful. The conversation turns to easier things—honeymoons, the venue, the resort spa—and eventually Amy and Harry are off to greet the next table.

“What the hell?” As soon as they’re gone, you turn to Jack with a half-laugh, half-glare. “So we’re in a relationship now?”

He leans back in his chair, fighting a grin. “Figured it’d be a good way to make the weekend interesting.”

You blink at him. “You couldn’t have warned me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Besides… you didn’t say no.”

You want to argue—but you don’t. So you just try to hide a smile behind your margarita and look away.

The night winds down quietly. Amy’s sister plays a photo montage of Amy growing up, meeting Harry, and their early years together, while Harry steps up to thank everyone for coming. The staff announces tomorrow’s rundown: free time until 5PM, when the ceremony begins in the garden, and then gently ushers everyone to get some rest.

You and Jack are making your way back toward your rooms when Harry catches up to you, grinning.

“Hey,” he says, handing you a small card. “Quick thing.”

You blink, taking the card. Your brows immediately pull together.

“What’s this?”

“An upgrade,” Harry beams. “Amy and I moved you guys to one of the nicer suites. It’s bigger, better view. Our little gift.”

Your stomach dips. “Oh no, Harry—seriously, that’s really sweet but we can’t—”

“Come on,” he waves a hand. “Let me do this. For my wife’s best friend,” he says to you, then claps a hand on Jack’s shoulder, “—and for my greatest mentor. You’re both our dear friends.”

You glance at Jack, silently begging him to say something—to fix this—but he looks just as stunned.

“Harry—” Jack starts.

“Nope,” Harry cuts him off, walking backward with a grin. “Already moved your bags. Enjoy!”

He disappears before either of you can stop him.

You and Jack stand there for a moment, staring at the spot where Harry had just been.

You turn slowly. “We’re terrible people.”

Jack lifts a brow. “We? You didn’t exactly stop me back at dinner.”

You gape at him. “You said we were dating out of nowhere! What was I supposed to do?”

He smirks. “You could’ve denied it.”

“I was stunned! You lied so confidently I thought I had missed something.”

He chuckles and starts walking again. “Come on, let’s check out this palace we’ve been gifted.”

And you find out soon enough—he wasn’t exaggerating.

The suite is beautiful. Massive windows overlook the forest, soft yellow lighting glows from fixtures built from stone and wood. There’s a sunken living room with a couch, a cozy fireplace, a soaking tub the size of a car, and one king-sized bed with silk sheets and pillows you could drown in.

You both stop in the doorway, silently taking it in.

“Well,” Jack says after a beat, setting the key card on the entry table, “this got out of hand fast.”

“No kidding,” you mutter, though your disbelief is already turning into laughter. You sit on the edge of the bed like it might still vanish. “This your idea of a fun weekend?”

Jack undoes the first buttons of his shirt, shrugging. “Hey, I said interesting. Didn’t say how.”

You shoot him a look. “One bed.”

He nods. “I can take the couch if you want.”

You grab a pillow, chucking it at him. “You better not hog the blanket.”

You’re not scared of sharing a bed with Jack. He’s respectful, responsible—he’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable.

What you’re scared of is yourself.

Because you can’t deny the attraction. Not when he steps out of the bathroom in just a pair of low-hung sweatpants, his dog tags resting against his chest. His skin is still dewy from the shower, his hair slightly damp and curling at the ends. You try not to stare, but it's a losing battle.

And to make matters worse, you only packed the nice nightwear. Silky, a little sheer, a bit too short. You’d brought it thinking this weekend would be a quiet getaway. A solo indulgence. But clearly, plans have changed.

It’s awkwardly quiet.

“So…” You start.

“So.” He sits beside you. Still no shirt on. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess.”

You smile, sitting up a little. “A great view, a nice bathtub, and silk sheets? I wouldn’t call this a mess.”

Jack lets out a quiet chuckle.

You glance over at him, then down—he still has his prosthetic on. “You don’t take it off when you sleep?”

He hesitates. “…You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” You furrow your brows. “I’ve seen you take off your leg multiple times at work.”

“I guess… but this is different.”

“How?”

“…I don’t know,” He pauses, “It just is.”

And you kind of know what he means, but you don’t address it. Jack makes sure you’re okay with it once again before leaning forward and taking his prosthetic off. He groans in pain, and so without thinking, you reach over to help.

Jack’s breath hitches when he notices you climbing over your side of the bed and is massaging his leg. And then he sees what you’re wearing. A satin, violet nightgown, with lace decorating the hem and bust area. Spaghetti straps hang delicately off your shoulders, the fabric brushing high along your thighs. His eyes linger, his mouth slightly parted.

You feel his eyes on you. It’s only then that you realize—oh. You’re practically on top of him in this thing.

“Don’t judge me.” You mumble, “I thought I’d have a room to myself.”

“’M not.” He grunts.

That’s when you notice his flushed face, his grip on the sheets, the way his eyes flicker down your body and then guiltily back up. Your heartbeat quickens—he likes it. Maybe even wants it. You.

You move back to your side, dragging the covers up to your chest, and Jack follows, shifting under the covers, trying to will away the heat still buzzing under his skin and in his pants.

“So,” you say, trying to focus on anything else, “we’re going to have to keep this up the whole weekend?”

Jack nods. “At least to the just-married couple.”

“We’re gonna have to get them a gift from us. This room must’ve been expensive.”

He chuckles. “You’re right about that.”

“Well, we’ll be stuck with each other the whole weekend anyway.” You say. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”

Jack lets out a slow breath, trying to calm the way his pulse is racing. “We’ll manage.”

You pause. “We should probably, I don’t know… practice. So we don’t look awkward.”

He glances at you. “Practice?”

You raise an eyebrow, heat crawling up your neck. “You know. Just in case they’re watching. A kiss or two might sell it.”

Jack is awfully quiet.

“I—I mean, we— forget it.” You stammer, “I was just—”

He turns to you and leans in, eyes never leaving yours. And you’re surprised, but you don’t pull away. You close the space first, just enough to brush your lips against his, soft and uncertain.

His hand rises to your cheek, deepening the kiss. He tastes like mint and something warm, and your heart feels like it’s exploding. His thumb brushes your jaw, his mouth tilting against yours, and you barely suppress the small sound that rises in your throat.

You don’t know who breaks it first, but you part—just barely.

“…That was…” Jack starts, voice low.

You breathe out, “Convincing?”

He huffs a soft laugh. “Yeah. That’s one word for it.”

You both lay back down after that, still facing each other.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and whispers, “We should get some sleep.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Right. Yeah.”

You both shift under the covers. Careful not to touch, even though the warm feeling is still there in his skin. On your lips.

Jack stares at the ceiling, then turns to look at you, your back now facing him, your breathing shallow and uneven.

None of you can sleep, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to get through the rest of the weekend pretending as if any of this doesn’t mean something.

-----

Day two

Thankfully, Jack is not a blanket hogger.

But you are.

Sometime during the night, you must’ve robbed the covers like a seasoned thief. Because now, Jack is half-wrapped around you, as though he had to burrow under the blanket you hogged to survive the night. One leg hooked around yours. One arm draped across your ribcage, his hand resting just under your breast. The other curled under your neck like a makeshift pillow—how did that even get there?

His chest is warm and solid against your back. He’s still asleep, his breathing even, slow. His nose is near your temple, breath fanning lightly against your ear, and it takes every bit of willpower not to shift. Not to look.

Your heart, however, is pounding.

You need a cold shower. Immediately.

So you slip out of his grasp as quietly and quickly as you can, running to the shower. You immediately turn on the cold water setting, but it doesn’t help the itch between your thighs.

You try to force your mind away. Think of something else.

Work. Traumas. Codes. Blood. Bloodied gloves. Jack's hands in gloves—fuck.

You groan. Your hand wanders to where Jack’s was a few minutes ago. Just under your breast. If he had just gone up a bit… just slightly brushing your nipple, and squeezing, and pinching—you bite your lip and sigh.

Against your better judgment, two of your fingers lower to where you need it most, a small hiss escaping you as you relieve the tension. You touch yourself like you imagine he would. His rough, padded, calloused, experienced fingers toying with your clit. How he would absolutely tease and bring you over the edge just from them.

You sigh, rubbing your clit in figure eights, your other hand pinching and squeezing your breast. Your fingers move lower, quietly cursing to yourself as you feel how wet you are. It’s all for him and he’s not even here to see it. You insert one finger in, then two, and you wonder if two of Jack’s fingers would feel similar. You know it’s not the same. Your fingers curl to hit your spot, and your head hangs forward, thumb circling your clit to chase your release.

You come quickly. Easily. But it’s hollow. You’ve done this yourself so many times, and it’s just too easy for you to come. But it’s not what you want. It’s not what you need. A mere release from your fingers isn’t enough… but it’ll have to do. For now.

You finish showering and wrap yourself in one of the hotel’s bathrobes. You were in such a rush you forgot a change of clothes. When you step out of the bathroom, Jack’s already up—still shirtless, coffee in hand, standing near the window and looking out at the forest.

“Morning.” You offer.

He smiles, “Morning. You got up earlier than me.”

“That surprising?” You raise a brow.

“I’m usually an early bird.”

You towel your damp hair as you move to the vanity table. “Must’ve been really comfortable, then. Maybe the cuddling helped,” you say lightly—despite your own reaction to it—watching him in the mirror.

Jack chuckles. “I’m not the one who hogged the blanket.”

“And I guess I was just helping you sleep.” You smile, as he shakes his head. “So, what’s your plan for the day?”

“Breakfast,” he says easily. “Then maybe I’ll check out that heated pool. Care to join me?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Good.” He saunters over to you, surprising you with a lift of your chin, and pecks you lightly on your cheek. “For practice.”

And then Jack disappears into the bathroom, and you think you almost died. He’s playing with you. Teasing you. He probably knows what he does to you—and oh, Jack Abbot… two can play that game.

You rifle through your bag for something to wear. Your fingers hesitate on the safer choices… then drift toward something else.

It’s cheeky. Flirty.

But you wonder… how far can you push him before he finally cracks? Before he lets go of his self-control and gives you what you really want? So fine. You’ll wear something cute. Maybe just a little sexy. Just enough to stay innocent, but more than enough to keep you in his head all day.

A cute sundress. Spaghetti strapped, short, just enough cleavage and thigh, and most importantly, no bra. Why would you? You’re headed to the heated pool. You’ll be changing into your red bikini anyway. Your very red bikini.

You smirk to yourself.

You’re finished doing your hair just as Jack steps out wearing shorts, and a loose white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, collar open enough to hint at his chest. The man knows he looks good.

“You can swim with your leg?”

“It’s waterproof.”

“Fancy.”

“Didn’t pay for it.” He chuckles. “Ready to go?”

“Mm-hm.” You hum, bending over in front of him to put on your shoes. You can hear him curse behind you. “Ready.”

You turn to face him, and bat your eyelashes innocently, “Something wrong?”

Jack’s jaw clenches and he reaches for the key card. “…Nothing. Let’s go?”

You’re still smirking as you walk out the door—Jack trailing a step behind, and probably hating how much he’s staring.

Breakfast isn’t crowded. It’s still early—most guests are probably sleeping in, nursing hangovers or enjoying the quiet. Which is why, as you sit across Jack at your table, you dare reach over for the jam—anyone behind him would be able to see that you’re not wearing a bra. And Jack—poor Jack—almost chokes on his orange juice.

“Christ.” He coughs, eyes wide, flicking from your chest to your face like he can’t quite believe what just happened. And then a twinkle of playfulness, like he’s saying: It’s on.

You pretend nothing happened, spreading jam all over your bread and taking a bite.

Jack watches you like a man possessed. Then he leans over the table. His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth slowly.

“Missed a spot,” he murmurs.

And then he sucks his thumb clean.

Your jaw drops.

It seems like you’ve silently created a game of who will fold first. And you’re both damn competitive.

Jack clears his throat, changing the topic. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

You raise your brows. “Of course.”

He leans back slightly, watching you. Not with the usual flirt or challenge in his eyes.

“How are you still single?”

The question catches you off guard. You blink, caught somewhere between flattered and exposed. But you try to cover it. “Such a serious question.” You deadpan.

He doesn’t smile. “I mean it. You’re smart, funny, beautiful, and… I don’t know, you’ve got this… thing.”

“I’ve got a thing?”

He gives you a small smile. “Like you know exactly what you want. And it’s damn attractive.”

You pause, a piece of bread halfway to your mouth.

“Wow,” you say. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me over eggs and toast.”

Jack chuckles, but his eyes stay on yours. “Still waiting on the answer, though.”

You take your time answering. Spread a little more jam, chew thoughtfully, anything to delay the way your heart’s pounding in your chest.

You take a deep breath, letting yourself open up a little. “I guess…” you start slowly, setting your knife down. “Most guys say I’m too much. They like the flirting and everything, but when things actually become real… they kinda just want the flirty and sarcastic me.”

There’s a beat of silence between you. Jack’s still looking at you—he’s known to have a staring problem, and now you see why. You won’t lie, there’s a part of you that wonder if Jack would be one of those guys. If he just wanted the flirting, non-commital chase. Maybe he’d rather pretend none of this happened when you’re back in your regular, ER lives. The thought scares you a little more than you’d like to admit.

You add, a little lighter, “Besides, you think I’ve got guys lined up just because I can make a joke and wear a dress without a bra?”

Jack’s smirk returns, but his voice stays low. “No. I think guys like the idea of a challenge—and then punish you for having standards. I think you’ve been waiting for someone who actually sees you. Not just the version they want you to be.”

You pause. His words hit harder than you expect.

“Maybe.” You say. “It’s hard to find a man like that.”

“Not as hard as you think.” Jack simply says.

You sit with his words for a moment longer, chewing on your lip.

Then, maybe a little shyly, maybe to level the playing field, you ask, “Can I ask you something?”

Jack nods, already know what you’re going to ask.

“Why are you single?” you ask, tilting your head. “You’re handsome, funny, albeit a little annoying…” you add, smiling, “That should’ve landed you someone by now.”

It’s not a teasing question, not really. You already know about his past—about the wife he lost, even if you never asked for details. But you’ve always wondered. Jack could’ve had anyone. So why… no one?

Jack’s smile fades—not completely, but just enough for you to notice. His gaze drops to his coffee, thumb brushing over the rim of the mug. “I think I just stopped looking for a while.”

You nod, quietly.

“And when I did start again…” He trails off for a second, fingers tapping lightly against his mug. “No one really felt right. Not in the way that makes me want to stay. Or try.”

“And are you?” You regret the moment that left your mouth so quickly.

“Am I what?”

Too late to back out now. “Looking for someone.”

He holds your gaze a second too long. “Yeah.”

And suddenly, breakfast doesn’t feel so light anymore.

The pool is a little crowded, but it wasn’t bad. Some kids are in the pool playing, adults are on the other side just enjoying the warm water. Jack comes back from the bathroom already shirtless, ready to soak in.

“Try not to stare too much.” He whispers to you.

“You’re the one with a staring problem.” You bump his shoulder before going to change.

Jack watches you go, running a hand through his hair. His mind drifts—Are you? Looking for someone? Your question keeps looping in his head.

God, the number of times he’s almost asked you out is countless. He’s been drawn to you since Shen’s “congrats-you-made-attending” party, when you both downed ten drinks in the booth and you told him everything. You might not remember all of it, but he remembers every second. How you laughed without holding back. How you leaned on his shoulder like it meant something. How your eyes lit up when you talked about what you loved—he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since.

There’s a glow in you that he wants to protect. Feed. Watch grow brighter.

But he always holds himself back. Because he’s scared if you think he might be too old for you. Not anymore. This weekend sums it up. He’s going to ask you out by the end of the week. By tomorrow.

As he watches you walk back to him, his resolve almost breaks right there. Because now he’s seeing you, in a glaring red bikini, making your way to him and time seems to slow down, it’s like he’s watching Baywatch. He has to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth.

“Try not to stare too much.” You tease him.

He groans audibly into you, his head resting on your shoulder. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“I would never.” You fake a gasp.

You go into the water first before Jack follows. You thought Jack would be a little uncomfortable, with everyone looking at him for a longer second, some even doing a double-take because of his leg, but he seems fine with it.

You, on the other hand, seem to be glaring at everyone who looks at him a certain way or whispers after.

“Don’t worry.” Jack chuckles, “I’m used to it.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” You mutter.

He smiles at that. The water’s not too deep, so you just stand on the side, watching kids splash water around each other, some are crying, and you glance at Jack.

“You ever want kids?”

Jack turns to you, the corners of his mouth twitching before he gives an honest answer. “Used to. Not anymore. Not really. You?”

You shrug. “I only want it if my partner really wants it. Our jobs don’t exactly make it easy to have family.”

He snorts. “Spot on.”

You lean back a little, water sloshing softly around you as a kid cannonballs nearby. Jack lifts an eyebrow at the splash, brushing droplets off his face.

“I honestly think I’d be a bad parent.” You admit. “I wouldn’t know what to do if my kid is misbehaving.”

He sucks in a breath, “Well, seeing how you are in the ER… I don’t think the kid would even think about misbehaving.”

“Hey!” You hit him lightly and Jack laughs.

“Kidding.” He smiles, “I think you’d be a great mom. You’re strict, but you care.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure. You flirt like this with all your co-workers?”

And so the game continues.

“Only the ones I like.” He smirks. “And what’s your excuse for this red, hot bikini?”

You raise a brow, trying not to show how fast your heart is beating. “This one? It’s just red. Nothing special. Why? You like it?”

Jack’s eyes flick down, then back up. “I think that bikini’s not helping me stay on my best behavior.”

And then he turns away like he didn’t just say the most distracting thing in the world, pushing off the wall and floating backward lazily.

You’re left with your mouth gaping again, and a scoff leaves your lips.

It’s still a tie.

It’s been a few hours and now you’re lounging by the pool bar, nursing a margarita, watching over the crowd and Jack, a good few feet away, reading his book. You’re practically ogling him, and you’re pretty sure he knows you’re looking, because he just flexes his arm and puts it behind his head—you scoff. The gall.

But you’re not the only to notice, so it seems. One woman, decides to sit next to him—in your supposed chair—and starts talking to him. You frown, but would also like to see how it’ll play out.

She says something to him and Jack only gives her a curt, polite smile. Never says anything more than 4 words. And you don’t know why, but you feel like saying “that’s my man” when he technically isn’t.

That’s until she laughs a little too hard at something he didn’t even say and lands her hand on his arm. A little too close to his chest. So, fine, you’ll have to teach her a lesson.

You make your way to Jack and that woman. He’s sitting upright now, clearly trying to get away from the conversation. You step out of the pool dripping wet and place your hand on Jack’s shoulder, bringing his attention to you.

You don’t give him time to react, you just kiss him. Deeply. And Jack gasps a little before returning the fervor. You finally pull away first.

“I’m gonna head up to shower.” You say loud enough for the woman to overhear, “You wanna join me, baby?”

Jack swallows thickly, not expecting that, but abruptly stands up and follows you out of the pool area. You can only hear that woman scoff and groan while you grin, walking away with Jack holding your hand.

The second the elevator doors close behind you, Jack exhales sharply. He turns to you, trapping you with his arms. “You really committed to the bit,” he mutters, a half-laugh escaping him.

You grin, still dripping a little, your towel thrown over one shoulder. “You looked like you needed saving.”

“She was two seconds away from asking if I wanted to do a tequila shot in the hot tub.”

“Would you have said yes?”

Jack’s gaze flicks to you. “Not when I have you walking toward me looking like that.”

You tilt your head, playful. “So you were watching me.”

He smirks. “You weren’t exactly subtle yourself.”

Jack leans in a little, wanting to taste more of your honey, but the elevator dings and the doors open, and he groans. Terrible timing.

Back in the room, you go straight to the shower, and Jack lets out a quiet disappointed sigh, knowing he’d missed his chance of kissing you again. But that’s until you clear your throat, catching his attention from the bathroom.

He turns his head, watches as you only poke your head out from one side of the door. You have a playful smile on your lips as you put your hand out, revealing your red bikini—off, and dropped on the ground. You’re stark naked behind that wall, and the door’s wide open.

Jack’s jaw drops.

“Offer still stands, Jack.” You wink at him, and Jack’s never ran so fast in his life.

The bathroom’s already fogging up from the steam by the time Jack steps in, the door clicking shut behind him. You’re already under the spray, water gliding over your skin like something out of his wildest dreams.

He swallows, hard.

You tilt your head toward him, your smile gentler now, more real. “You coming in, Doctor?”

Jack doesn’t answer. He just pulls down his shorts, wanting to join you fast, and when he finally steps in, he looks at you for a minute. Like he’s trying to remember every curve, every dip, every supple flesh—and his hands finally touch your waist.

The heat of the water is nothing compared to the heat in your chest when he touches you.

Jack mutters against your neck, kissing your skin like he’s starving. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You hum, arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close, bare chests touching. “Oh I think I do.”

His mouth crashes into yours, all tongue and teeth. His hands roam down your back, gripping your ass, pressing you against him—and there’s no pretending now. No flirting for show. Just the hunger of two people who’ve been dancing around this for far too long.

Your back hits the tiled wall, water raining down between heated kisses and wandering hands. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it like a man who’s been dying of thirst.

You can feel his length standing proudly against your stomach and you moan.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, forehead pressed against yours. “You know that?”

You smile, breathless, and then a flashback of this morning plays in your mind. You bury your head in his neck, groaning.

“What?” He asks. “Something wrong?”

“No—nothing.” You say, still slightly avoiding his eyes.

Jack frowns, a little worried. “Sweetheart. Tell me.”

“It’s stupid, it’s just—” You sigh in defeat. “I… may have touched myself this morning thinking of you. Right here.”

Oh?

An amused smile quickly replaces Jack’s expression. A raised brow. And now a smirk. “Yeah?”

You nod shamelessly.

“Show me.”

“..Huh?”

“Show me how you touched yourself.”

You blink a few times. You’re trapped between Jack and the wall, with no escape.

“Go on.” He encourages and you close your eyes, biting your lip as you repeat what you did this morning.

One hand on your breast, the other on your clit. And you feel so shy now. Because he’s watching you, watching as you play with yourself, legs slightly apart to finger yourself, and because you know he wants you to beg.

The figure eights aren’t working for you. Your eyes search for his as your free hand grips his wrist.

“Jack, please, I—”

He hums, “What’s that, sweetheart?”

You let out a breath. “I… I can’t cum like this. I—I need you. Please, Jack—”

He smiles, kissing you once more before bringing his own hands to your core. It’s wet and sloppy, and he knows he’d have no trouble fucking you right now but he wants to take his time.

So he kisses your neck, toys with your breasts, pinches your nipples in better ways than you imagined as he basks in all your moans and whines.

He finally reaches where you want him most, and you jolt in surprise when you feel his fingers rubbing your clit. His calloused fingers are rougher than you expected, and you welcome it warmly.

He puts in one finger into your core and you gasp, maintaining eye contact as Jack watches you crumble before him. “You’re doing so good for me, princess.”

Fuck him and his pet names. You bite your lip. It makes you feel things.

He pumps his finger a few times before adding a second and you moan loudly, feeling the stretch that is oh so good. “This how you imagined me?” He asks.

You hum, nodding your head. “Yeah… Just like this—ah fuck, Jack…” You call out his name when he hits the right spot.

You moan as he pumps his fingers, thumb circling your clit with practiced, devastating skill. You’re barely holding yourself up, legs trembling, breaths choppy and uneven. He kisses you again, swallowing your cries as he fucks you with his fingers, relentless, until you’re falling apart in his arms.

You fall over the edge, body shaking, clutching him like you’ll drown without him. He holds you through it, fingers slowing until your legs can steady again.

“That’s a good girl…”

You think your lips must be bruised by now. Jack is looking at you like he’s trying to coax out another orgasm, but you shake your head.

“Want you… please.”

He groans, “You keep asking me so nicely like that, and how can I say no?”

And when he finally lifts your leg around his hip and you feel the hard length of him press against you, you realize just how big he is.

“Having second thoughts?” He asks.

“Fuck no.” You tell him. “You’re just… so big.”

Jack chuckles. “You’ll be able to take it. Won’t you?”

You whimper as he pushes his tip in.

“That’s it…” He coaxes, “My good girl.”

You pant when he finally bottoms out inside you. He’s practically splitting you open.

“Feel that, baby?” Jack says, his hand rubbing your lower belly. “I’m all the way in there.”

You never took Jack as a dirty talker, but you love it.

“So deep, Jack—” Your breath hitches when he finally moves his hips, snapping up sharply.

You kiss him desperately, biting his lower lip, your cries muffled into his mouth.

You grip his back, dragging your nails down as he thrusts into you again—and again—slow at first, then harder, deeper, as your bodies find the rhythm you’ve craved.

He fucks you with purpose, with heat, with every ounce of restraint he’s been clinging to. His hips snap against yours, your bodies slick and hot, your name falling from his lips like a broken record.

Your moans echo off the tile, drowned slightly by the water still rushing above you.

He slips out of you for a second, turning you around to press you up against the wall, before gripping your hips, slamming back inside you from a new angle, and you gasp, because he’s much deeper now, and you feel him more. Especially with his balls slapping against your clit with every single thrust.

“You feel so good,” he pants. “Squeezing me so tight—”

“Jack—oh my God—Jack—”

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand reaching for your shoulder, pulling you back. “Let go for me, baby.”

Your second orgasm comes hard, clenching around him with a sharp cry, body writhing in pleasure as your vision flashes white. Jack groans, burying his face into your neck as he follows, spilling deep inside you with a shudder and a hoarse growl of your name.

You moan, feeling him twitch inside you and filling you up. It’s warm, and you keep pushing back against him, wanting more of his cum.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” He grins, one hand on your throat as you lean back onto him. You only bite your lip return.

Jack whispers a ‘Jesus’ and hugs your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

He pulls out of you and you whine from the loss, feeling him drip out of you and down to your thighs. Jack groans at the sight.

You both breathe, hearts hammering, water cooling.

Jack kisses your temple. Then your cheek. Then your lips, slower this time.

By the time you’ve finished showering, it’s already 3:30PM. You only have about 30 minutes to get ready because Amy needs you to help her.

Jack helps you dry your hair while you do your makeup, casually brushing through the strands with a towel as if he’s done it a hundred times. It’s domestic. And if you didn’t already feel dizzy from what happened earlier, this would’ve done it.

You slip into your dress—a deep emerald green satin that hugs and flows in all the right places, held up by two delicate straps that run down your back. It’s timeless. Quietly stunning. And the moment Jack sees you in it, he lets out a quiet breath, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt like it’s the only way to stop his hands from reaching for you.

You catch his eyes in the mirror just before he steps up behind you, his hands finding your waist.

“Is everything you own made of silk?” He hums, lips brushing just below your ear.

“Satin,” You correct, “But no, just this and yesterday’s nightie.”

He groans softly into your neck, “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh. “I have to go earlier to help Amy. I’ll see you in the garden?”

Jack nods. “Want me to go with you?”

“It’s okay,” You assure him, “Probably some girl stuff.”

He hesitates, then nods again. You press a kiss to his cheek and start to walk away—but his fingers catch your wrist, stopping you mid-step.

“Wait,” Jack says. His voice is quieter this time, a little uncertain. “Can we talk? Tonight?”

You pause. You know exactly what he means. This isn’t pretend anymore—it hasn’t been for a while now. And even if there’s a chance he might tell you this was all a mistake… you don’t think that’s what he’s going to say.

You hold his gaze. “Yeah,” you say softly. “Of course we can talk.”

He exhales, relief flashing in his eyes, and lets your hand go. You walk to the door.

But before you can leave, he calls after you one last time.

“You look beautiful.”

You wink at him before closing the door.

Turns out Amy needs help getting dressed. Her stylist is busy retouching her makeup—because she bawled earlier—and now your mission is to use as many tide pens as it takes to erase the smudges she left on her dress.

“Oh my God,” Amy mutters, fanning her face with both hands. “I can’t believe I made a huge mess of myself.”

You chuckle, dabbing at the fabric. “It’s your wedding, girl. Tears are part of the dress code.”

“Don’t even say the W-word,” she hisses. “Talk about something else. Quick. Or the waterworks are coming again.”

“Uh—okay, what do you want me to talk about?” You panic, attacking another mascara stain.

“You and Jack.” She grabs your wrist. “Distract me with how you fell in love with him. Give me the juicy details.”

You blink.

Shit.

“Well… I…” You gulp. “I guess it started when I transferred. Like two years ago.”

It’s not a lie—you’ve had a crush on Jack practically since day one. The man’s competent, confident, funny as hell. Checks all the boxes. And when he calls you by your first name in that deep voice of his? Game over. “He made me feel like I had a high school crush again.”

“That’s it?” Amy stares at you flatly, “Give me more details! Where’s the tea??”

You groan, finally caving. “Okay, okay. I fainted once, and he caught me in his arms.”

Her jaw drops. “Like a princess?”

“Yeah, except covered in blood,” you laugh. “It was one of those marathon shifts. I’d just finished doing CPR on a guy, barely slept, barely ate—next thing I know, lights out. And Jack—he just broke my fall and carried me to the on-call room like it was nothing.”

A chorus of soft “awwws” breaks out in the room from Amy’s mom, cousin, and stylist.

You roll your eyes. “Relax. He probably did it out of duty. He’s my attending. Professional courtesy.”

Just then, you hear a loud voice from the hallway.

“Jack!” Harry calls from just outside the room. The door is slightly ajar.

Your entire body goes stiff. You whip your head to Amy, wide-eyed. “Do you think he heard all of that?”

Amy winces. “Would it make you feel better if I said no?”

Fuck. It’s not a huge deal, it’s just… a little silly. A little secret you hope Jack would never know because then he’d know you’ve had a thing for him for years now.

Amy finally walks down the aisle, her father giving her away. The garden is glowing—fairy lights strung between trees, blooms in every shade of pinks and whites, and soft mist curling along the grass like something out of a dream.

You’re standing next to Jack, having met him by the garden after helping Amy get ready. You’re not sure if he heard your whole fainting confession from outside her room, but if he did, he’s been polite enough not to bring it up.

Now, as the guests settle into their seats, watching Amy and Harry at the altar, Jack places a hand gently on your knee. You rest yours on top of his without thinking.

And when your best friend starts her vows—shaky but glowing with joy—you feel the tears build up. Jack silently hands you a folded handkerchief.

“God,” you whisper with a watery laugh, dabbing at your eyes. “You’re so old.”

“You like me old.” He whispers back.

The ceremony ends beautifully—vows exchanged, cheers rising, a kiss under the canopy of lights. Soon, everyone begins drifting toward the ballroom for food, drinks, and dancing.

You’re at the bar by yourself, sipping your second margarita, watching Amy spin around the dance floor in Harry’s arms. She looks completely happy. The kind of happy you hope stays forever.

“Amy’s best friend, right?” You hear someone beside you. “I’m Jackson. A friend of Harry’s.”

You squint for a moment before shaking his hand. “Avery?”

“Guilty.” He smiles. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve seen you on the news. And your mother. And grandfather.”

Jackson hums. “Figures.”

You nod. “How do you know Harry?”

“We went to the same med school.” He says and glances at your drink, “I take it you love margaritas?”

“Gee, what gave it away?”

He laughs, “Well you were drinking one earlier today too. By the pool.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. Is he flirting with you? “Oddly observant, aren’t you?”

“No,” He denies, “You just make quite the impression. Hard to miss.”

Okay he is flirting.

You raise a brow, amused, and you glance over your shoulder. Jack’s across the room, just finished talking to some people, and now he’s weaving through the crowd, eyes locked on you with a slightly furrowed brow.

“Boyfriend?” Jackson asks.

“Yep.” You say without hesitation.

“Darn.”

“You didn’t see how I was making out with him by the pool?”

Jackson smiles, shrugging. “My mind must’ve been elsewhere.”

“Well,” he says, already stepping back, “I should go before he decides to break my nose.”

You smirk. “Nice meeting you, Jackson.”

“You too.” He gives you a nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Just then, Jack reaches you, sliding a hand to your lower back like he’s staking a claim. You lean into him, pleased. And just a little smug.

“Hi,” He smiles.

“There you are.” You smile back.

He offers you his hand. “Dance with me.”

You blink, caught off guard. Jack Abbot dances? But you take his hand without question, letting him lead you to the floor just as a soft, slow cover of The Way You Look Tonight drifts through the speakers.

“Didn’t know you dance, Jack.”

Jack pulls you in gently, one hand resting on your bare lower back, the other folding around yours. Your free hand finds his shoulder. You breathe in the clean scent of him—his cologne and something you can only describe as him—and try not to melt into him entirely.

“Only with the right person,” he replies, voice quiet near your ear.

Your cheeks flush. You hope he doesn’t feel how fast your heart’s beating.

“So,” He starts casually, “Jackson Avery, huh?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Jealous?”

Jack shrugs, “A little.”

Your eyes flicker up to him, surprised. No man would ever admit that so easily—have themselves be vulnerable in front of a woman like that. It makes you feel warm inside, the thought that Jack can be protective of you because another man was flirting with you.

“I’d understand,” Jack says, a little dejected. “He’s a lot younger, more handsome, definitely rich—”

“—I shoo-ed him away.” You cut his sentence.

Jack raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

You mimic his shrug, trying not to smile too much. “I have a boyfriend.”

And he grins, a genuinely happy smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

You rest your head lightly against Jack’s shoulder, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the music sways through you both.

“So should we rip off the band-aid now?” You daringly ask.

He chuckles under his breath, the vibration soft against your cheek. “If you want to.”

You pull back just slightly so you can see him.

He lifts his gaze to yours, steady and warm.

“This weekend,” you say, your voice quiet but clear, “it’s not just pretend. Right?”

“No,” he says simply. “I…I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a sap,” he admits. “But I want to be with you. In every sense of the word. I want to make you laugh, be there when you cry, I want… I want everything with you.”

Your heart trips over itself, but your smile is calm.

“Me too.” You don’t hesitate. “I want all of it with you, Jack.”

He exhales, like he’s finally letting go of something he’s been holding onto for a long time. Then he leans in and kisses you, soft and slow and full of promise. When he pulls back, your lips are still tingling, and you hum at the loss.

For a second, you both just look at each other, breath mingling.

“So…” Jack tilts his head with a teasing smile, “you’ve had a crush on me since you transferred?”

“Ugh,” You try to hide your face in his chest. “So you were eavesdropping??”

“By accident,” he says quickly, laughing. “I was just looking for you.”

You squint. “Missed me that much, huh?”

Jack leans in, brushing his nose against yours. “Don’t blame me. I can’t get enough of you.”

[petersspidey]

STEVE. R & BUCKY. B day 10 (19, oct) — threesome

18+ fem!reader, 540 words. mdni!!

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚｡𖦹.

Bucky lays on your right side, fleshed hand between your thighs, fingers stroking over your cunt tediously — the slow pace matching the worship-like kisses he peppers into your tit. The one closest to him. Whereas Steve, he resides on your left, his hand cupped to your cheek to keep you close, controlling and deepening the makeout. 

You hold onto each of them, either hand resting on either head as you rake through their hair; trying to offer them something while they attend to you ever so sweetly. You murmur against Steve’s lips, an almost moan muffling into his mouth when you feel Bucky’s grazing move to your clit — his middle finger resting heavily atop.

He swirls over it, speed practically non-existent though the pressure is anything but. His touch continues to remain calculated and precise, each circling movement done so with thought and care. His lips on the swell of your breast trail upwards, following the contours of you until he’s kissing up the length of your neck, pausing when he reaches the patch of skin under your ear.

The absence of touch on your tits is felt almost immediately, the ache resurfacing without the warmth of Bucky’s lips to fight it off. And as if Steve could hear your thoughts, his hand under your jaw drops to your chest — large, manly hands kneading at your breasts in the way he sensed you needed.

Bucky’s hand moves from your cunt to your face, thumb and forefinger on your chin to twist you away from Steve. Physically breaking your kiss so he could have a moment with you.

Without feeling too disheartened, Steve parts from your side and moves down the bed — situating himself between your thighs. He sits on his knees, hand holding under his cock as he gives himself a few prep-like strokes, readying himself. He repositions, lining his head up with you and pausing for a few moments, easing into you shortly after. Slowly feeding his dick into you, he continues until his balls are pressed up against your pussy lips. Bottoming out.

You muffle into Bucky’s mouth at the feeling, the fullness making you struggle for air. 

“Shit,” you whine against his lips, the sound strained and airy. 

You part from Bucky, pulling away to rest against his forehead — giving yourself a minute to catch your breath. And while you do that, you’re wrapping your legs tighter around Steve’s hips, keeping him to you as he begins his slow, steady strokes. 

Bucky also adjusts, now sitting beside your head, his chubbed-up cock in sight. You extend your hand towards him, wrapping your fingers around his base as you run up the length of him. Brushing up his dick lightly.

Once again, Steve notices and changes his position — now leaning over you, hands planted firmly into the mattress either side for his support. Getting closer to you, making sure you can see him, as if they’re competing for your attention. 

You glance up to them above and see two sets of blue eyes already on you, each of their attention solely on you below. They watch every little expression on your face, thumbs grazing over your cheek as they do so — one of their hands on either side.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[petersspidey]

HEADCANNON ALERT Jack Abbot loves Sleepy Sex

it’s after he gets home from shift, his partner wakes up to the sound of his shoes on the hardwood floors of the apartment.

they greet each other sleepily and Jack strips off his scrubs and slides into bed behind her.

“Jack” she whines as he slides in gently, she knows he loves half awake sex after a shift. He just needs to be connected.

He leans down, his lips finding her ear. "I'm right here," He whispers, his voice low and husky from pleasure. His hips move slow, savoring each thrust. "You feel so good,"

Her hum vibrates through her body, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He grinds his hips against her ass, his cock buried deep inside her. He stays like that for a moment, just feeling her. "I love fucking you like this," He murmurs into her ear.

He pulls out suddenly, making her whine. He quickly flips her onto her back, parting her legs and pushing back inside her with one smooth thrust. He starts moving again, this time with the clear intention of just fucking her back to sleep like he usually does after shifts.

He smiles softly at her efforts to stay awake, knowing she's exhausted from their earlier round. He thrusts slowly but deeply, hitting a spot he knows makes her mind go blank. "Sleepy girl," He whispers, one hand moving to gently stroke her hair. "Just let me..."

He watches her eyes flutter, knowing she's fighting sleep. He leans down to kiss her softly, his hips moving in a steady rhythm designed to soothe rather than arouse. His voice is low and gentle. "That's it... Just let go..." He murmurs against her lips.

As she drifts off, he continues to move inside her, his thrusts slow and steady. He loves this - fucking her to sleep after a long shift. It's their secret ritual. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he finds his own rhythm in the darkness. “My baby,"

she can feel him kiss over her collarbone before settling over her and snuggling in for the night. His hips occasionally pumping.

He continues to move gently, his hips rocking in a slow, rhythmic motion. He knows she's deeply asleep now, her breaths coming soft and even. He kisses her collarbone again, then her shoulder, before settling down more comfortably on top of her. His movements become more subtle but consistent.

[petersspidey]

knife's edge.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Heels on. Nothing else. You only meant to try them on—until Bucky saw your reflection in the mirror. Now he’s on his knees, leaking, begging, and discovering a kink he never knew he needed.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, stiletto kink, cock worship (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, praise/degradation mix, soft dom!reader, sub!bucky, kink discovery, begging

Author's Note: Just trying something new based on umm an old quote from the man himself (Sebastian).

You’d only meant to try them on.

The heels—sleek, obsidian black stilettos—had been tossed carelessly by your dresser, still in the box Yelena had left with a wink.

“You’re gonna need these at that gala. Something that says: I might stab you, and I’ll look damn good doing it.”

Now, fresh from your shower, skin still warm and dewy, you slipped into them—nothing on but a towel draped over your hair, drying off the ends. The hard click of the heel echoed sharply as you stepped across the hardwood floor of your walk-in, then paused to study your reflection in the full-length mirror.

The shoes made your legs look longer. Firmer. Every shift of your weight made your muscles flex just right—like danger incarnate wrapped in nothing but bare skin and sleek edges. You turned slightly, admiring the clean line of your thigh from the back, the curve of your ass lifted just right by the height of the heels.

You took a few steps—slow and experimental—toward the mirror. Click. Click. A small smile played on your lips. Powerful. That’s how they made you feel.

You didn’t realize you weren’t alone.

Bucky had been standing just past the doorway—towel slung low around his hips, hair damp, chest still glistening from the aborted mission to shower. But now he was behind you, watching silently.

In the mirror, you saw him—towering behind you like some kind of storm barely held back. His jaw was tight. His cock already twitching beneath the towel.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked.

You startled slightly, catching his reflection. “Buck?”

“I—” he dragged a hand down his face. “Don’t move.”

You arched a brow, amused. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop staring. You—fuck, sweetheart…” His eyes raked your reflection, wide and hungry. “You look like a fucking vision. I can’t—your legs. Tight. Flexed. Those fucking heels…”

You shifted again, subtle, letting the pose change slightly. “It’s just heels.”

“You’re naked in heels,” he rasped, stepping forward like gravity reeled him in. “Clicking around like it’s nothing. And you didn’t even know I was here. That’s fucking criminal.”

He stopped just behind you—close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his towel brushing your skin. You met his gaze in the mirror as he stared over your shoulder, utterly entranced.

“I was testing them out.”

“Yeah?” His voice dipped again. “I’m testing my fucking limits.”

Still, he didn’t touch. His breath ghosted across your neck as he whispered, “You look like you could slit throats and make a man thank you for it.”

You chuckled, soft and sultry. “That’s a compliment?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a confession.”

Then his hands finally found your hips. He pressed himself to your back, hard and hot, his cock fully erect beneath the thin towel. His mouth brushed your ear.

“You ever see yourself like this?” he murmured. “Legs flexed. Shoulders bare. Looking at me in the mirror like that?”

“I see you too,” you whispered, shifting your weight just slightly so your heel lifted. “And I see what this is doing to you.”

Bucky groaned, the sound dark and low in his throat. His grip tightened, and then—slowly—he turned you in his hands. Gently, reverently. Until you were facing him.

His eyes were glazed, jaw tight, towel strained over how badly he wanted you.

Then, with one hand, he reached down and curled his fingers behind your knee.

“Lift it,” he said, voice a raw rasp.

You obeyed, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance as you raised your leg.

He caught it easily—guided your stiletto up onto his thigh, right against the heat of him.

And just like that… you understood.

You shifted your angle slightly, just enough to let the sharp point of your heel drag slowly across the inside of his thigh. He gasped.

You did it again. Slower this time. Closer.

He bit his bottom lip, eyes fluttering half-shut.

“Think I just found a new kink,” he groaned. “You, wearing those heels. Me just… watching you use ‘em like this.”

“You’d let me tease you like this?” you asked, voice teasing, hungry. “Keep you hard with just my heels and no hands?”

His hips jerked forward instinctively.

“You’d do that to me?”

You smiled, head tilting slightly. “I’d make you beg, Bucky. Tell you how pretty you look, all desperate. Maybe even let you rut up against my foot a little. But only if you ask nicely.”

“Fuck.” His voice cracked. “You could ruin me.”

You stepped in closer, both hands pressing gently to his chest now.

“Then let me.”

And with one slow, confident push, you backed him until his shoulders met the cool surface of the mirror behind him—still watching, still reflected.

Bucky exhaled a shaky breath, letting his towel fall.

And you dropped to your knees.

You were just getting started.

—

You looked up at him, cock flushed and twitching in front of you, chest rising and falling like he was holding on by a thread.

“Say please,” you murmured, fingers gliding up his thigh as you leaned in.

Bucky moaned—low and wrecked—his head falling back to thump softly against the mirror.

“Please. Just—baby, please.”

You didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet.

Instead, you reached down and pressed your heel between his thighs again—light, teasing, right to that sensitive spot that made him jolt.

“The gala might have to wait.”

His breath stuttered hard, hands twitching at his sides. His hips rolled instinctively toward you, seeking contact—anything—but you just leaned back slightly, keeping your eyes on his.

“God,” he whispered, voice frayed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled sweetly and slid your palm up his length in a slow stroke—then let go completely.

“Not until I’m done with you.”

“You’re so hard,” you whispered. “And I’ve barely done anything to you.”

You watched him—so big, so ready to fall apart for you—and felt a flicker of nerves beneath the thrill. You weren’t used to this. Not like this. But the way he looked at you?

Like you hung the moon.

You straightened your shoulders slightly. Let the confidence follow your voice.

Instead, you slowly stepped back, out of his hold. The sharp click of your stilettos on the hardwood made him visibly flinch, like even the sound of them had power over him now.

“Down,” you said softly, letting the word hang in the air like smoke.

You weren’t sure what you expected. But the way he froze—chest rising, mouth parted—told you everything.

He wanted this. Wanted you like this.

His brows drew together—hesitant, breathless.

“Kneel for me, James.”

You didn’t say it again.

You didn’t need to.

He sank slowly, towel loosening around his hips as he dropped to his knees in front of you. You stood tall above him, completely bare but for the heels and the towel draped across your damp hair. One step forward, and he was level with your thighs—your heat, your scent—everything.

“Look at you,” you murmured, tilting his chin up with your fingers. “Big, dangerous super soldier, and yet you’re right here. On your knees. Just ‘cause I told you to.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. You watched his cock twitch again, hard and leaking against his stomach.

You shifted your weight, lifting one leg slowly and placing the pointed tip of your heel right between his thighs. Just beneath his balls.

“God—” he gasped, hands twitching on his thighs, unsure where to place them. “You’re gonna fucking destroy me.”

You didn’t answer.

You dragged the heel up lightly—slow, deliberate—over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His breath hitched. The sharp press made the muscles in his thighs jump, like his body couldn’t decide if it wanted more or to pull away.

“You like this?” you whispered, eyes locked on his.

He whimpered. Whimpered.

You did it again—just a graze, the tip of your heel trailing up to the crease of his hip before you slid it back down. His cock twitched again, leaking now, desperate.

“Your cock’s such a slut for me,” you said, voice dipped low and cruel-sweet.

You didn’t even know you had that tone in you. But the way he whimpered—his thighs trembling, breath stalling—it did something to you.

He squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving. “Please—”

“Aw, baby,” you cooed, tilting your heel just enough to press into the tender flesh inside his thigh. “Didn’t know you liked being teased like this. Thought you were the one who liked calling the shots.”

His throat bobbed, lips trembling with restraint. “I didn’t know I’d like you like this.”

Your smile was pure wicked delight. “Poor thing.”

You grazed the heel up again—closer this time, letting the tip ghost along the underside of his cock. Just a whisper of contact.

His whole body jerked. A cracked, broken moan slipped from his lips.

“Needy little thing,” you muttered, stepping closer, letting your calf brush his shoulder. “You wanna come already, don’t you?”

He nodded—frantic, wrecked.

You stood tall behind him, watching the muscles of his back flex as he breathed hard, towel barely hanging on. He was beautiful like this. Obedient. Thighs tense. Cock flushed, twitching, untouched.

But your confidence flickered—just for a moment. Your power felt so sharp, so new.

Your voice softened. “Bucky…”

He turned slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, heel tapping lightly against the floor behind him.

You didn’t mean to sound unsure, but it slipped out anyway.

“What… what do I do next? If I wanted to really ruin you?”

His eyes nearly rolled back at that. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You say shit like that and I’m close already.”

That response? That gave you permission to keep going.

You stepped in front of him again, brow furrowed, lips parted with the weight of wanting. “Tell me.”

Bucky’s breath hitched. He sat back on his heels, looking up at you like worship. “Start slow. Use your hands. Don’t let me finish.”

You blinked. “That’s mean.”

He smiled weakly. “Exactly.”

You knelt—carefully, heels still on—sitting with your thighs spread just enough for him to see how wet you were already. His gaze dropped instantly, groaning again.

“You want me to just… touch you?” you asked, hand reaching out toward his flushed, aching cock.

“Please,” he whispered, desperate. “Just not enough. Just enough to make me lose my fucking mind.”

You wrapped your fingers around him gently—slow, reverent. His hips bucked, and he hissed through his teeth.

“God,” you whispered. “You’re so hard…”

You stroked him slowly, deliberately, eyes wide and focused on the way he twitched in your grip. His cock pulsed with every pass of your hand, leaking at the tip. He moaned low, broken, head falling back.

“You look so pretty like this,” you murmured, voice growing steadier as you watched him unravel. “On your knees, begging.”

“Don’t stop,” he groaned.

But you slowed. Thumb grazing under the head, teasing the slit. He cried out softly, hips jerking again.

“Sweetheart, please—don’t play fair. Ruin me.”

You leaned forward and dragged your tongue slowly up the underside of his cock—one long, deliberate stroke, just to taste him.

Bucky choked on a moan. “Fuck, fuck, do that again—”

You licked again, kittenish and slow, then placed a kiss to the flushed head. He whimpered.

Then stopped.

“Wait—baby—” His voice cracked. “Don’t… don’t let me come. Not yet. Please—keep me there. Just right there.”

You pulled back instantly, lips slick, eyes wide. “Like… this?”

You stroked him again, faster now—then stopped just as he started to pant.

He looked wrecked. Eyes glassy. Lips swollen from biting them. Chest heaving.

“Yes. Just like that,” he gasped. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Think I like seeing you like this,” you murmured, brushing your heel against his thigh again. “Whimpering. Barely holding on.”

His cock jerked helplessly. “I can’t—baby, I can’t take it—”

You leaned in, whispering at his ear, stroking him again just to the edge. “No coming, Bucky. Not until I say.”

He nodded helplessly. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

Your breath hitched. You felt that.

He was shaking now. Begging under his breath. You watched every muscle in his body tense and tremble—every pulse of his cock in your hand.

And still, you denied him.

“You wanna come so bad,” you whispered. “But I’m not done watching you beg.”

He looked up at you—face flushed, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded.

“Please,” he breathed. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

You stroked him once more—firm and slow—then let go completely.

His hips twitched. A full-body jolt. His breath hitched on a raw, cracked moan.

You tilted your head. “You’re leaking again.”

He looked down, eyes wide with humiliation—because yeah, he was. The flushed head of his cock was glistening, dripping onto his own thigh like his body couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I haven’t even touched you in a minute,” you whispered, awe curling around your voice. “You’re just leaking for me.”

His chest heaved. “I—I can’t help it—”

“Oh, I know you can’t.” You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “Look at you. All this from me in heels and a few soft strokes? That’s all it took to get you like this?”

He whimpered. Fucking whimpered. Shoulders hunched like the shame turned him on even more.

“I didn’t know you could get this pathetic,” you whispered, trailing a fingertip up the underside of his cock—barely touching. “But I like it.”

He gasped.

You watched in real time as another thick bead of precum dripped down his length—unprompted, untouched. His thighs were trembling now, muscles strained from trying to hold back the orgasm clawing its way up his spine.

“I feel like I’m gonna come,” he groaned, broken and frantic.

You leaned back, watching every desperate twitch. “You’re not allowed.”

“I know,” he choked. “I know, I know—but baby, please—”

His whole body was shaking. Cock flushed, painfully red at the tip. He was grinding the air just barely, involuntarily chasing friction he knew he wasn’t allowed to have.

Then you saw it—another thick drip of precum pulsing from him. His voice was wrecked now, barely intelligible.

“I’m gonna—fuck, I’m leaking—I can’t stop—baby, I can’t—”

His head dropped forward, resting between your thighs as he moaned—low and hoarse. He was panting like a man being edged at gunpoint—back arched, cock jerking helplessly, tip leaving wet trails across his own abdomen.

You didn’t let him come.

You just held his face, gently, fingertips brushing his stubble as he trembled between your legs.

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered. “Look at you. You haven’t even come, and you’re already falling apart.”

His hands clutched at your thighs like a lifeline.

“Say it,” you murmured, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

He looked up at you, red-faced, eyes glossy.

“I’m yours,” he breathed. “Fuck—I’m yours. Ruin me however you want.”

You smiled.

You didn’t expect to love this—holding him like this, guiding his pleasure like it belonged to you.

But you did.

“Good.”

Your thumb brushed along his jaw as he panted, face still buried against your thigh, cock pulsing and flushed, still leaking.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, voice different now—lower, steady. “You’ve been so good.”

Bucky whimpered.

You tipped his face up gently. “You wanna come, baby?”

His eyes fluttered open—wet and desperate, like he didn’t believe you yet.

“Yeah?” you asked again, more tender now. “You want me to let you?”

His lips parted. “Please. Please, sweetheart—I need it. I need to come so bad, it hurts.”

You kissed his forehead.

“Then do it,” you whispered. “Come for me.”

He didn’t even need to touch himself.

Just your voice—just that permission—was enough.

He groaned, head falling forward again as his hips jerked once, then twice, and—

“Fuck—fuck—I’m coming—”

Thick pulses of hot cum spilled across his belly, each wave shaking his thighs. His whole body shuddered from it, like the dam had snapped wide open and he couldn’t stop if he tried. You held his jaw, watched him fall apart so sweetly—muttering your name under his breath like it was the only thing he remembered how to say.

And when it was over—when the last twitch left his muscles and he sagged against you, boneless, breathing hard—you whispered,

“You okay?”

His breath hitched with something like a laugh. He leaned his head against your chest, still catching up.

“I think I just found religion.”

You smiled, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “You liked that.”

“I loved that,” he whispered, still dazed. “Didn’t know I needed it—being owned like that. You… making me hold back, making me ask for it?”

He looked up at you, cheeks flushed and glowing, a little awestruck.

“Felt like I gave you everything,” he said. “And you took care of it.”

You kissed him again, softer this time. “I did.”

And he let out a breath like a man reborn.

[petersspidey]

rusty

jack abbot x female reader

summary: after a dry spell in his sex life, jack would’ve never imagined the next women he’d have naked in his bed would be his favorite first year resident.

content: nsfw, 18+, mdni, resident!reader, touch starved!jack, established relationship, a little bit of fluff smushed in there, but mostly smut, jack being nervous to have sex for the first time in years, but then ofc something in him snaps and he gets a little freaky with it, jack uses the nickname kid for the reader (1) time, also uses the nickname sweetheart, fingering, handjob (if you blink you’ll miss it), p in v sex, dirty talk, condom use and the crowd boos (sorry had to keep it realistic! if i’m having sex with someone for the first time and they’re not wrapping it….questionable)

word count: 4.5k

author’s note: wanted to write something about big tough jack abbot being a little nervy to see you naked but i also wanted to write something about him having an inappropriate relationship with his resident…. so alas this was born. enjoy!

“I haven’t done this in a while.” 

The words stumble from Jack’s lips in an exasperated sigh. They nearly get lost between kisses, the confession hidden amidst the steamy exchange as your bodies barrel through his front door. 

Reaching up to thread your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, your forearms rest on his shoulders to steady yourself as he maneuvers you into his bedroom. 

You don’t reply to his admission, just smile into the kiss as your hands trail down his torso finding the hem of his shirt. Your fingertips carefully tracing his skin underneath the material. 

He wanted to tell you it had been years since he’d been with a woman like this— wanted to apologize in advance for being a bit rusty, but the light touch of your hands exploring the skin just above the waistband of his pants, had him losing his previous train of thought. 

He couldn’t think about how long it’d been since he’d brought a woman back to his place, couldn’t even think about how insanely wrong it was to be kissing you in his bedroom.

With that being said, he should be proud of himself for holding out this long.

It had been months of having you on his shift.

Week after week of watching you prance around the ER with that cute little smile on your face, following every last one of his orders. Always meeting his sarcastic remarks with witty comments of your own, the two of you working effortlessly together like there was some sort of magnetic field between you that pulled him to every case you worked on. 

It was so innocent at first, shared inside jokes and granola bars in the breakroom. Him giving you a hard time for your absurd coffee intake through the night, making comments about how the quad shot of espresso you walked in with was going to send you into cardiac arrest. 

But then, there was the time he put his hand on your lower back to squeeze behind you at the triage desk. The second his touch met the polyester of your scrubs, applying just enough pressure to seep through the thin fabric, your head turned in his direction. 

You didn’t mean to look at him, but you couldn’t help it. His fingers stayed splayed out on your back for one second too long, and your eyes shot to his, the electric current running through your body impossible to ignore. 

A sudden tension emerged in the small space between you, his stare raking down your body to where his hand sat just above your waist, taking his time trailing them back up with a knowing smirk on his lips. 

The moment was fleeting but it played out in slow motion before his hand was gone and he was breezing past you into the trauma bay.

After that it became a game of cat and mouse, both of you sensing a pull of desire toward the other but almost too afraid to do anything about it. 

For Jack, it was because you were his intern, just a first-year resident looking to him for guidance and education. His apprentice. It felt wrong to look at you in any other way. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he took advantage of the obvious power imbalance at play in the situation. 

Not to mention he was off his game. 

He had no problem coming across abundantly confident at work, but as far as dating went, Jack hadn’t waded into those waters for years. There was a part of him that gave up on his love life. Maybe that’s why he threw himself into work, to avoid the loneliness that found him in his lack of companionship. 

You could sense his apprehension.

The way he would subtly flirt with you and then walk away from the conversation like nothing happened. He was trying to avoid the guilt of getting too familiar, but it left you confused about his intentions. 

It wasn’t until one morning that you decided to rip off the band aid entirely, asking him to join you for breakfast after your shift. 

It was a simple invitation, one that could’ve been strictly friendly, but the way he smiled when you asked, looking around to see if anyone else heard, told you it was the start of something else entirely. 

And it was.

The two of you went to breakfast, talking for hours in a corner booth, over a stack of pancakes and a few slices of bacon. 

It was the first time you saw each other outside of the hospital.

Everyone else in that restaurant could recognize the two of you for what you were; happy. Finding joy in each other’s presence through constant laughs and affectionate smiles. But Jack couldn’t see it that way— couldn’t shake the conflicting feelings of guilt.

It wasn’t until you reached over him to dip your bacon in a pool of syrup on his plate that he finally relaxed. He soaked it in, sitting with you like that, because when the nagging thoughts of how inappropriate it all was began to cloud his mind, the gentle touch of your hand brushing his thigh chased them away. Your fingertips curled just above his knee as you continued telling him a story, the hold making him forget why he was even worried about saying yes to your invitation in the first place. 

That was the first time he crossed a boundary with you. Allowing himself to get lost in your voice, hidden away in some diner down the street from the hospital. But it didn’t stop there. 

The next time was when he walked you home after work, only three days after your shared breakfast date. 

He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but you parted ways outside the sliding hospital doors and he watched as you walked down the street, all by yourself.

For a split second he could imagine what his frame would look like walking next to you, and so he followed, catching up to your stride with satisfaction running through his veins at your surprised smile to see him standing at your shoulder. You lived in an apartment building a block away, he knew because you mentioned it one time, and even though his leg was killing him after such a brutal shift, he walked next to you all the way to the front door of your complex.

Your bodies lingered on the sidewalk, palpable tension bouncing between them through prolonged goodbyes. 

That was the first time your gaze fell to his lips. 

The curiously hopeful look in your eyes made his mouth go completely dry, because Surely you weren’t going to kiss him in broad daylight… right? The world spun around him while your eyes stayed fixed on the straight line of his mouth, until they fluttered back up, meeting his line of sight and smiling brightly.

“Goodnight Jack.” Your hand met his bicep, squeezing lightly as you turned to walk into the building with a small wave. 

Goodnight, even though it was nearly eight in the morning. 

It was something you said to everyone after each shift, bidding your coworkers a good stretch of sleep, knowing you all shared a fucked-up sleep schedule due to working the night shift. 

Jack found the greeting endearing. Smiling wide every time he heard the sing-song chime of your voice wishing everyone a restful day before leaving work in the morning. 

His days were hardly restful though, he never got much sleep when he went home, because you were always on his mind. 

After that day in front of your apartment building, he went out of his way to walk you home nearly every morning, if only for a few extra minutes of hearing your voice, and a small hope that you would look at his lips like that again. 

When you finally did kiss him, it was well worth the wait. 

It happened on the roof. 

An especially hard night landed you outside for some fresh air, overlooking the city as you tried your best to clear your mind. 

Jack came up to check on you. 

Avoiding him entirely, your apathetic stare stayed plastered on the lights of the city. He stood next to you in silence for a while before placing a gentle hand of reassurance on your cheek, bringing your gaze to his and searching your eyes to make sure you were okay. 

It was emotionally charged, the way you crashed your lips into his.

He held your face delicately in his hands, using his jaw to dive into the kiss, hungry and sloppy and undeniably passionate. 

More than anything he wanted to explore every inch of you— to let his hands travel your entire body, but instead his palms stayed strictly on your face, careful not to push things too far. 

In fact, weeks of suppression followed while Jack tried to respect the unknown undercurrents of your relationship. 

A few more kisses were shared, even some heated make out sessions and heavy petting in the on-call room at work, but nothing more. 

He’d be lying if he said his trepidation wasn’t slightly due to the rather lengthy sexual hiatus taking place in his life. But he could only deny his urges for so long, and this morning after breakfast, instead of walking you back to your apartment, he invited you over to his place for the first time.

An unspoken agreement hung in the air the whole way home, one laced with heavy sexual tension. 

That’s what landed you here— barely two feet past the threshold of his bedroom door with your hands dangerously close to the waistband of his pants, and Jack couldn’t dare to think straight. 

The only thoughts he could muster revolved around how much he fucking liked you. This other worldly figure standing before him, toying with the ties on his pants, fingertips brushing his abdomen and fuck- he was on another planet. Your touch was sending a vaguely familiar heat rushing through his body and he wanted more— needed it. 

Something about the situation sent him on a power trip. His cock pushing against the lose restraint of his scrubs at the sudden realization that he finally had you right where he wanted you after all this time. Months of getting to know each other and countless dates ending in polite kisses and lingering goodbyes— all of it leading to this moment with his fingertips curling into your waist. 

But there was still a little sliver of him that felt nervous, slightly unsure of venturing into unknown territory with you. 

He was still trying to convince himself that you were genuinely interested in him, because when he looked at you he saw this beautiful woman, all radiant and self-assured, on the arm of some guy nearly twice her age who rarely smiled and always had a grumpy wise-ass remark on his tongue. 

His hands went rigid at the thought, the doubts taking him out of the moment for a few seconds, and you could sense the uneasiness in his touch.

Pulling away from the kiss, you watched his expression, his lips parted to make way for fast shallow breaths as he stared back at you, his eyes hooded with desire but swimming with hesitation. 

“We don’t have to do anything Jack.” Your words were sincere as you continued looking for any sign of regret in the hazel of his eyes.

“No, I want this.” His brows furrowed as the winded confession fell from his lips. His hands grasped at your hips, holding firm while his thumbs rubbed into your sides. 

“You sure?” Voice changing slightly, you moved into a more playful state, fingers coming to the tie on his pants as you kept your eyes trained on his face. 

“We could just talk.” 

A playful whisper slid between your lips as you undid the drawstring between your fingertips.

“Or maybe watch a movie.” 

Then, your hand slid into the waistband of his underwear, only a few inches, just enough to make his breath hitch. 

He tried to cover his surprise at your touch, now dangerously close to the base of his cock. Mustering enough self-control to speak, his words come out calm and collected despite the dizzying effect of your hand down his pants.

“You’re funny, kid. You know that?” 

Kid. 

A nickname he'd been calling you since the day you were assigned to his shift.

You were just an intern; young, hungry, and passionate. Had he known you’d end up with your hands halfway down his pants in the middle of his bedroom, he might've opted for a different title of endearment.

“Seriously Jack, we can take things slow-“

A low chuckle interrupts your attempt to comfort him, trying to give him a chance to back out. 

He guides you back to sit on the edge of his bed, smirking and shaking his head from side to side.

“Stop talking.” The words are rushed. A deep rasp from his lips as he leans in to kiss you, pushing your body until your back meets his mattress.

“I don’t think you realize how long I’ve thought about this.” It was apparent that Jack was hungry— starving even— to see more of you. His hands working quickly to get your pants down your legs and onto his bedroom floor. 

“And what do you think about Jack?” He’d never heard that tone in your voice before, low and sultry while you leaned up on your elbows to look at him through your lashes.

“Jesus- I’ve thought about having you on my bed like this,” There was nothing subtle about the way his eyes scraped over your as he paused between words. Eyes drifting to your lower half, legs parted slightly, a pair of black panties acting as the only barrier between his eyes and your naked body. “all spread out for me like this.”

At his words, your legs open further, sending a muffled growl straight to Jack’s closed mouth as he lets his hand fall on your inner thigh. Trailing upwards, his fingertips come in contact with the hem of your underwear. 

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about pulling you into the on-call room after our shift.” He’s leaning above you, eyes glued to your clothed core, fingers toying with the thin material of your panties at the inside of your thighs. 

“How badly I’ve wanted to fuck you on one of those shitty beds, or maybe even against the wall…” 

“But you deserve better. To be treated right, on a real bed.” Suddenly the smooth linen of his comforter feels much warmer beneath you, your hands splaying over the pillowy fabric at your palms. 

Jack watches the way your shoulders relax, and your head falls an inch to the side at his words, your body melting into the moment of shared desire. 

“Want to take my time with you. Make you feel good. Watch you fall apart.” He leans in to kiss you, right as one of his fingertip’s dip below the fabric of your panties to run along your slit. You gasp into the kiss, and he takes the opportunity to pull away.

“To hear the little noises you make for me.” His lips are only inches from yours as his breathless whisper fills the space between them. His hand fully pushes your panties to the side, his touch light as a feather, and lingering at your core.

“Bet you sound so pretty when you cum.”

Your mouth falls open and you’re not sure what triggered it, his words, or the way he pushes a single finger into you. The movement is slow and precise as he watches your eyes flutter in pleasure. 

For someone who’s sex life was currently non-existent, Jack didn’t miss a beat when it came to the rhythm of your gratification. The moan dripping from your tongue coming right on cue as he slips another finger in with the first, stroking with purpose and dedication as his name comes floating from your lips. 

“Jack.”

The word was foggy and desperate as his touch subdued you, his fingers curling at the sweet call of his name, hooking at just the right spot. 

“Fuck that’s it.” A whine of pleasure rippled through you at the pressure of his fingers against your walls. With one stroke after another, the building tension in your abdomen threatened to overflow. 

Jack’s stare falls on his fingers as they work you open. 

He can hardly handle how responsive you are to his touch; your hips bucking into his palm, little pleas falling from your lips— It’s enough to make him cum right there in his damn pants. 

“God- you sound gorgeous.” The compliment is almost primal, his voice nearing a growl as he looks down at your body writhing on the simple motion of his fingers inside you, a slave to his touch.

He lets himself get lost in the noises flowing from your mouth, allowing each moan to act as a signal, showing him exactly where and how you want him. 

“Even better than I could’ve imagined.” He finishes his thought and brings his stare back to yours, the fucked-out expression in your eyes telling him just how close you are. 

His words send you reeling, acting as a catalyst for the strain pulling in your abdomen. 

He can feel your body preparing to tumble over the edge, walls clenching around his fingers, and thighs flexing.

“There you go sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. That’s new. 

It surprises you both the second it leaves his lips. But the surprise of it barely registers, instead the word is unleashing a flutter in your chest and a warmth between your legs. You’re obsessed with the way it sounds in the rasp of Jack’s voice. In fact, you like it so much your body trembles and whimpers fill the air as you come undone on his fingers.

His eyes watch as his movements slow, digits coated in your slick and pushing into you continuously even after your body finishes shuddering.

It’s almost sadistic the small smirk he’s wearing as his eyes stay fixated on his fingers sliding in and out of your body. 

He was starved. Starved of touch— the warmth of another’s body. The way you pulled him in with each thrust of his fingers made him want to stay there all night, making you cum over and over again to feed his craving of your body at his mercy. 

If it weren’t for your delicate hands gripping at his forearm, forcing him back to reality, he would’ve kept going, would’ve seen just how much more you could take. 

“Jack.” Your voice breaks him from his trance, hand wrapping around his arm and pulling him back to hover parallel over your body. 

An unsolicited grunt erupts from deep in his throat as your hands, once again, slide into his underwear. Only this time, they fall far enough to envelop his cock in your soft touch. 

His hand comes down forcefully next to your head, palm flat against the mattress to hold himself steady as pleasure washes over him.

You’ve only pumped over his length once and he’s already squeezing his eyes shut in focus, trying not to spill into your hand. 

“Sweetheart.”

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have used that nickname again. Not right now, when he was seconds away from having an embarrassingly quick orgasm. 

Your grip tightened slightly at the word, hand working a little faster, and paying extra close attention to his overly sensitive tip. He has to put a hand over yours to conceal your efforts. 

“I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up.” His brows raise at your smug expression, your hand still stroking him despite his attempt to stop you. 

“I’m serious.” A breathless snarl meets your ear as his head falls lower, nearly resting in the crook of your neck.

You hum in response, one hand continuing its work between his legs, the other pushing at the pants still around his hips.

He was quick to oblige your unspoken request, bringing his own hand down to rid himself of his pants and underwear. His hands are then at your hips yanking your panties down your legs.

In a heated frenzy both of you took a few seconds to take off any remaining clothes. Sitting up to swiftly pull off shirts, and while you’re reaching to take off your bra, Jack stretches to his bedside table, fishing out a condom from its box that’s been sitting untouched in his drawer for far too long.

Then, you’re back to square one, his body hovering over yours, and his lips kissing down your neck.

Your hand finds him again, palm encircling his member as he freezes under your touch.

“You sure you wanna do this?” His voice is lost in the skin of your chest, his lips melting against your collarbone.

“You’re asking me? I thought you were the one who needed convincing.” The giggle in your voice has Jack nipping playfully at your skin, his hand confidently fitting between your legs.

“What can I say, you’ve persuaded me.” A teasing tone slips through his lust clouded whisper, fingers collecting the slick at your core with a groan on his tongue.

You grab the condom out of his hand, tearing it open and rolling it onto him with ease, the feeling causing him to lean further into your touch. 

This was one of the reasons Jack was so drawn to you.

You held such discreet authority. Always taking charge with a charming smile and a sweet command in your voice.

He couldn’t have imagined the same power he witnessed at work would roll over into the bedroom. Your captivating ability to take quiet control was suddenly so obvious in the way you were guiding his now protected length to line up with your entrance, body shimmying down the bed to coerce him into you. 

When the head of his cock finally pushes into you, you both let out noises of relief.

The placated gasp from your lips, and the profound groan on his, proves that you’d both been longing for this exact moment for weeks.

He takes his time. Learning the hug of your body. Savoring every inch of pure bliss, as he fills you at a painstaking pace. Your hands shoot to his back, fingertips digging into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades, just enough to encourage his movement until he enters you completely, pushed in to the hilt.

His eyes stay on yours, watching the way your lids almost close while you adjust to him, your mouth parted slightly at the stretch.

Then he’s pulling out and thrusting back in, moaning at the way you feel wrapped around him.

Your head tilts back into his comforter at the sweet friction of his strokes, and the sight beneath him has another moan bubbling up Jack’s throat. 

It was exactly how he’d dreamt this moment— your back on his bed, with your head thrown back in pleasure. Getting to watch your body respond to him his perch above you, your naked figure far more beautiful than anything he could’ve imagined. It was all so perfect. You were perfect. 

He picked up the pace of his thrusts, not too fast, but perfectly timed with the squeeze of your fingers on his back. He knew he must be hitting something right in the way you were gripping his shoulders and crying out for him. Crying out for him. Your voice was strained and winded as his name fell from your lips in a chant. 

His self-control must’ve been at an all-time high, because he closed his eyes for a moment, gaining his bearings and talking himself down from cumming at the sounds of your whines.

He collects whatever composure is left in his body and brings a hand down between the two of you, fingertips finding that sensitive spot just above where his cock is driving into you.

He rubs steady circles into your clit, and judging by the way his name jumps from you an octave higher than before, he knows he’ll get to watch you cum again. 

He makes it his goal. Setting his thrusts at a fixed pace, as his fingers deliberately stroke your bundle of nerves. He focuses completely on your pleasure to distract himself from the pulsing pressure running through his veins.

He needs to see you let go for him one more time before he can finish. An easy task given the way your back is arching off his bed, sending your hips further into him. 

“I’m gonna-“ The words are hardly coherent as they slip between your gasps and moans— wanting to tell him you’re close but unable to string more than two words together.

“Come on sweetheart.” His words were directed straight to your core, eyes back down and watching between your bodies as he slides into you. His mind growing hazy at the sight of you taking his cock so well. 

His encouragement was all you needed to let go. Your release washing over you in waves of bliss.

Jack’s eyes make the journey back to your face, watching in awe at your expression as it takes on a state of utter relief, your head falling even deeper into the blanket underneath you.

That image is what finally makes him succumb to the persistent chase of his release.

He’s groaning and panting, one of his hands coming to grip your hips, the other balancing himself on the mattress, pressed flat on the space next to your face.

He’s grunting profanities as he spills through his orgasm, allowing his elbow to bend so he can rest his forehead against yours. Both of you breathing heavy, eyes meeting in a moment of vulnerability and understanding as you bring a hand up to lace through his hair. Almost petting his grey curls, you lazily smile through the puffs of breath on your lips.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over seeing you like this, an angel laid out on his bedspread— just for him. Giving you both a moment to recover, he stays like that for a minute. He’s leaning into you, listening to your soft breaths even out, and he can feel himself getting hard again. His dick is still throbbing, not even fully soft and he’s already ready for another round.

His cock getting hard again, that fast after sex, was something he hadn’t experienced in over a decade.

These days Jack needed plenty of time between orgasms to even think about getting another erection, but in this moment, still buried in you and hearing the tiny gasps of breath coming from your heaving chest, he wanted more. He could feel his addiction to you growing stronger, reminding him of the forbidden nature of your budding relationship.

“What are we getting ourselves into.” Speaking his thoughts aloud, his voice fills the room, a grin lingering in his lips.

He can’t help but smile as he imagines what the future holds for your relationship, his forehead still pressed gently against yours. 

my masterlist

[petersspidey]

in passing.

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot/Wife!Reader Summary: While working opposite shifts for two weeks, Jack Abbot finally gets a day off to spend with his wife. But in true Jack Abbot fashion- he needs to make sure you knew what you had missed out on. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, age gap relationship (older man/younger woman), soft!Dom Jack, overstimulation, teasing, spanking, and Dr. Yapper with his gremlin smile comes with his own warning. Crossposted to AO3

“Hmm, there better be a damn good reason you’re waking me up, Jack.” You smile, sighing into the way your husband’s lips dragged across the back of your neck- his heavy hands pushing your hair to the side as he makes little bites and nips with no particular direction set yet. He needs to shave- you think to yourself, biting your lip a bit from the scratch of his stubble along your neck because it feels good.

“Mhm,” he nods, smiling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist to drag you closer into his chest. “Missed you.” Mumbling, his fingers tease along the bottom hem of the shirt you were wearing to bed- his shirt, the one he was given in basic. Ratty, seams coming apart slightly with every wash but it was so soft and smelled like him and didn’t even fucking fit him anymore yet he still complains that you steal his clothes. You weren’t asleep- not really. You knew that he would be home soon and you expected him around now, 6 am- crawling into bed behind you and grumbling about how you’re on his side, in his spot. His pillow smelled like him, his side was firmer and it felt like sleeping in his arms when it was like this. 

What was this? This- was two weeks of opposite shifts. Two weeks of him working evenings and you on rotating shifts- working wherever you were needed and currently one of the ED residents was on leave, so the morning shift was where you were needed for the time being. It was fine. You liked everyone you worked with but it was hard because you missed Jack. Not just working with him- which honestly was fun but he annoyed you to no end with his incessant need to be the dominating player on the team. But you worked well together- he could count on his wife favorite resident to flank him when he needs, hands working in unison, knowing which clamp he wanted or what to push in the patient's IV before he even asked. Missing him at work aside- you obviously missed him at home too. You missed sleeping next to him, wrapping your arms around him, eating dinner together and laying on the couch with him to watch whatever stupid war documentary that was on because he just had to see. 

You had both been trying to work with seeing each other only in passing for the last few weeks. Where you were waking up to make breakfast for you both- spending only 30 minutes together while you sip your coffee before work and Jack fights sleep to spend those few precious minutes with you. Where you were coming home from work while he showers before he leaves for the night- then jumping in with him, kissing the freckles along his shoulders until he has to physically tear himself away from you to not be late again. Where you were making him something to eat for when he wakes up and he was making you dinner so you can just go home and rest, not worrying about anything else other than sleep. A quick kiss while you’re leaving the Pitt, passing him in the stairwell on his way in. Where you were sitting for a few minutes on the roof together after he’s brought you coffee so you can wake up for your shift, just giving each other details of what to expect or what patients were waiting on what before he leaves to go home and sleep. You didn’t even have any days off together. On his days off, Jack had been at the VA hospital with Mel- volunteering some of his limited free time. On your days off you had been helping the resident who had been on leave, maternity leave to be exact- cooking, cleaning, or just holding the baby so she can have a shower or nap. It was fine. Everything was fine. You just missed Jack. And he missed you. And you both finally had a fucking day off together.

“Prove it,” you smirked, still laying on his side of the bed with his chest at your back- kissing your shoulder while letting his hands skim up under your shirt now. You knew he missed you but right now it’s been so long since you’ve had him in bed with you- you just had to tease him. “You don’t miss me. Such a very neglectful husband.” Joking, hearing him scoff at your words but continued dragging his hand up your shirt to cup your breasts. 

“I am- so fucking neglectful,” he nods, shoving his hand to come out the neck of your shirt, just so he can grab your jaw and turn your face to him- catching your lips in a desperate kiss. “You should just divorce me. You can keep the house, the kids, the cars” kids meaning the ones you’ve adopted at the hospital- Whitaker, Mel, Santos, Mohan, and Victoria, “just let me fuck you one more time- one more time and I’ll sign wherever the fuck you want me to.” His hand returns to its spot on your breast, palming at it now and you try to giggle at his ramblings but he’s pushing his hips into your ass now- letting you feel how fucking hard he was, moaning in your ear and dammit you missed him so fucking much. His other hand trails down to snake into your underwear- well, it would if you had any on and he groans when he realizes it. 

“Think you can slip the kids in there like I wouldn’t notice?” Mumbling into his lips, moaning at the feeling of his fingers running along your slit, collecting the wetness that accumulated after only moments of finally being with him after two weeks. “We split custody, 50/50.” He’s manhandled you a bit- hovering over you now and dragging your shirt up just enough so he can circle his tongue around your nipple, hooking your legs over his hips for him to be able to grind into your uncovered center. 

“70/30 and I keep a car.” Jack negotiates, biting your nipple and tugging a bit before coming back to kiss up your neck and lips again. Thrusting your hips up, you use a leg as leverage to roll him back against the bed- clambering up to straddle his hips now and grinding your own down to elicit a whine from him. 

“60/40 and you can borrow a car.” Giggling, you pull at his clothes, tugging his boxers and undershirt off- the remaining few clothes he hadn’t rid himself from in anticipation and excitement of getting into bed with you as soon as he was home. You were able to drag your bare pussy over the underside of him now, he was impossibly hard- his cock pointed up, laying flat against his lower stomach and the veins were giving you the perfect texture to grind on. Jack’s large hands settle on your hips, digging into them to guide your movements a bit and if you tilt your hips back just so- the tip of him could easily slide into you and-

“Deal,” he nods, sitting up so he could nip along your jaw- pushing your hair back from your face as his teeth map out a path to your lips again. You sigh into the feeling- letting your arms hang off his shoulders while you lazily kiss him, enjoying the way his slightly chapped lips you know you gave him lip balm and you’re sure it’s shoved into his backpack and lost way at the bottom gave texture to the pleasure, it was something that felt very- Jack. You don’t stop the way your hips move, canting into his slowly while he traces his tongue along your bottom lip- opening your mouth for him so his tongue can swirl around yours. “Now let me fuck you baby, it’s been two weeks.” He thrusts his hips up now, trying to roll you both over so he can be on top but you shove him back down to lay flat. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, reaching under you to grab his cock as you rise up on your knees- teasing the tip along your lower wet lips. Jack rises up on his elbows now, groaning at the feeling of your wetness and anticipation of finally being inside you but- 

“Trying to fuck my wife? What are you doing?” He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head like it was obvious- oh. Oh no he’s acting like he doesn’t remember. You knew he remembered, he tries to sit up fully so he can hover over you but you shove him back down again.

“No? I’m fucking you- it’s Monday, I’m on top.” Yes- you did have to make a schedule due to some nights there would be fights over who would be on top and sometimes no sex would happen because neither of you would relent. And of course in true Jack Abbot fashion- he would always try to switch days or say he’s had a hard shift and deserves to be on top or ‘Are you sure it’s not my day?’ And before he could argue more or poorly gaslight you into believing it’s his day- you sink down onto him quickly, gasping and sighing in relief. Two weeks has maybe been the longest you’ve gone without fucking him, not counting the time you banned him from the bedroom while you were studying for your Step 3 exam- that was purely a necessity because there was no way you’d be able to focus with the man literally breathing down your neck. 

“That’s not- f-fuck that’s not fair.” It was never fair. That’s the point. And you giggle at his frustration- rolling your hips into a steady and slow rhythm. Jack didn’t try to argue the point anymore, his hands found their way onto your thighs- caressing gently while you got to work on fucking your husband the way you wanted. You liked it slow, loved rocking your hips just right to where you could feel every inch of his thick cock rub against your g-spot, where the curls that collect at the top of his pubic bone kiss at your clit with every roll of your hips. You have one hand on his chest- hand flat to keep him from leaning up and trying to roll you over really pulling the dog tags around his neck slightly, then brushing against the dusting of hair along his pecs before dragging your nails down to his taut stomach- still maintaining his fucking abs at his age was a gift you didn’t know you wanted. Your other hand dragged up your own body, feeling his eyes on you because if anything, your husband had a staring problem and especially loved to stare at you. You kept his eye contact- biting your lip in a smile when you lean back now, hand on his thigh to brace yourself and continue to roll your hips, sighing at the feeling of his cock just grinding into your wet pussy. 

“Keep going baby, just like that,” he’ll let you have your fun, for now- but Jack couldn’t deny that you looked fucking ethereal in this moment, riding his cock like you were made for it, sunlight just peeking through the blinds now and kissing your skin in a golden glow. He’s obviously been on edge the last few weeks- but he’s not too proud to admit that burying himself into your cunt keeps him sane, that fucking you into your shared mattress keeps Jack’s patience leveled. Because he can already feel the stress melting away from his body with every slow move you make. He’s watching you drag your hand down your body, fingers circling around your clit and you shudder- clenching around him at the feeling and Jack groans out something almost painful. He can’t cum yet- fuck he needs this to last. “Good girl- play with your clit a little more.” If you cum first then he’ll feel better about blowing his load so fucking fast. But you need to cum first. 

“Play with it for me,” You smirked, grabbing his hand from where it was squeezing your thigh- dragging it along to right above where you both were connected. He blacks out for a moment- he thinks. Jack circles his calloused thumb around your swollen clit, slow tight movements that work in tandem with the way you rolled your body on top of his. Your other hand grabs his free one and drags it up your torso, settling on your breast, palming at it with warm heavy hands- leaving you moaning from the added sensation. You started to roll your hips faster, leaning forward a bit to place both your hands on his chest to secure your movements. You were so fucking wet- you could hear it with each pass of your pussy across his cock and you would almost be embarrassed from the sound but you were so fucking worked up that you gave no shits. He could feel you leak from around his cock- using the collection of wetness to rub your clit faster. “Like that baby- fuck keep doing that.” You praise him. Even with such a minimal effort, the swirl of this thumb along your clit had your body on fire- the sparks of your orgasm starting to tease along in your gut. Jack rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger- groaning when you whined, clenching around him again. You were close- he could tell. He could feel it in how your body was reacting- he just needed to push you a bit farther. 

“Let me help you baby,” Jack sat up now, ignoring your protests as he removed his hand from your breast- using his arm now to wrap around your waist and pull your chest closer to his face so he can get your nipple into his mouth. Oh. Fuck- it’s was good. His mouth sucked and bit your nipple while he continued rubbing perfect circles around your clit- stubble scratching your chest but gave that extra bit of pleasure that had your thighs tightening around his hips. Fucking asshole, he knew exactly what to do- exactly how to make you cum fast. You tug on his curls at the back of his head- making him moan and bite down on your nipple now before giving a soft kiss so he can give the other equal attention. Fuck you were so close and this was so good- but you needed him deeper. Using his shoulder as leverage, you rose up on your knees until he was just notched at your entrance- looking down at him from where he was sucking marks along your chest and smiling when he nodded, almost begging you to slam down on his cock and you’re definitely not one to deny your husband. You are and you’ll deny him on purpose to be a bitch- just not this time. 

Slowly, so teasingly slow, you sank back down on him as you stared into those fucking eyes you love so much- seemingly dark and brown but you spent so much time staring into them when you first met that you realized they’re hazel. Golden flecks on the inside and rings of green on the outside- you could get lost in them if he’d let you. He would. He would do anything that you asked- minimal complaints. He groaned now, eyebrows scrunched up and mouth slightly open as you sank back down onto him so devastatingly slow- just to feel every ridge and vein of his cock until you were seated onto him once more. Tugging on his hair again- you force his mouth against yours- moaning into a hot kiss, tongue and teeth mostly but shared breaths from the panting of your efforts. The hand around your waist dipped down a bit to grab a handful of your ass, helping to guide you onto his cock- up and down and he’s trying to get you to move faster because he needs to feel the slickness of your wet pussy around him. “Faster.” He barks out- tugging your bottom lip between his teeth, slapping your ass hard for emphasis. 

“Stop topping from the bottom Jack.” You scoff- trying to comply, but honestly your thighs were starting to burn and were sore now from just the width of his hips keeping you open. He needs more and it’s so hard to keep composure when you're gently bouncing up and down onto him and he can’t fucking take it anymore. You’ve had your fun- his turn now. He reluctantly removes his fingers from your clit- kissing your cheek when you whine but grabs your hips with both his hands to keep you still, hovering just above him. You knew what he was going to do- you braced yourself on his strong freckled shoulders for it. He keeps you immobile- heavy hands settled on your hips and you couldn’t move even if you fucking tried as he thrusts up into you. Dammit- he was going to ruin you. You couldn’t take the hammering, the devastation and ruin of the pace he started to pound into you from below. You couldn’t make a sound- mouth hung open from the pleasure that started to build up in your veins. You’re so fucking glad that you were still impossibly wet- aiding the slide of his thick cock spearing up into you because the were still some resistance just from the fucking girth of him. 

“Someone sounds pretty fucking ungrateful for how good they’re being fucked right now-” he growls out- removing his hand to slap your ass again. He was only slightly right. You weren't being completely ungrateful because he was fucking you so good- just how you like it. He tilts your hips just slightly back, angling them so he can fuck up into your g-spot and you’re sure you scream from the pleasure and you just pray the neighbors don’t call the cops again. Heat courses along your veins- the familiar height of a peaking orgasm strangles its way down your spine to settle into your gut, pulling each wave higher with every thrust of his cock up into you. His pace doesn’t falter- one thing about your husband is that his stamina is still that of a fucking soldier. More than 10 years your senior and you’re the one panting and exhausted after being fucked into the mattress while he can go at least another two rounds with just a sip of water- as a treat. You bite his shoulder- not carrying if it hurts him because this feels so fucking good and you need to not scream in his ear but he’s threading his fingers through your hair and forcing you to look at him and- “don’t hide now baby- you wanted this remember?” He doesn’t stop wrecking into you, doesn’t stop slamming his hips up into your wet pussy- smirking when you close your eyes and his hand slams back down onto your ass because ‘you know better honey. 

“Wait Jack nooo-” You whine, feeling him shift so he can shove you back to lay at the foot of the bed while he settles on top of you, cool metal of his dog tags now against your chest to soothe the marks he made- never fully leaving the delicious tightness of your cunt. Asshole. At least you lasted longer on top this time. “You’re such a dick.” You moan out- wrapping your legs around his waist instinctively before he can do it for you. He didn’t care- well he did but in his mind he’s fucking you so you can relax and let him do the work, ‘it’s a love language honey’ he’d tell you. And it was so hard to deny that logic as he drives himself into you deeper, burying himself so fucking deep that it pushes you farther down the bed and your head is hanging off the edge now but it gives him access to kiss along your neck and suck marks on your collarbone to match the ones adorning your chest. 

“I know- a neglectful dick of a husband who fucks you so well,” he replies in a mocking tone- taunting you while kissing along your neck and jaw now, so gentle and sweet in contrast to the way his hips were slamming into your own. The sound was bouncing around in the room you shared- sweaty hips against each other, panting and moans that were muffled by sloppy kisses, Jack fucking talking so much that you know he’s about to cum when he finally does shut up, which he hasn’t- not yet. “Now you can’t divorce me- who will treat your pussy this good baby?” He’s baiting you now- getting you riled up from the way his mouth spews filth and nonsense into your ear while he tugs the lobe between his teeth. You just accept the pleasure, sinking into the bed with one hand braced on the wall next to you and the other clawing at his back while he drills right into your tight heat, unwavering speed that has you gasping for air, holding your breath with the impending orgasm in sight. “I said who?” He slows, pulling out and letting his cock rest between your folds now- slapping the side of your thigh now and grabbing your jaw so you can look into his eyes. “Lemme see those pretty eyes while you tell me who fucks you this good.”

“J-Jack- don’t stop,” you whine, your voice pitching at the end- frustrated and wiggling your hips a bit to get him to wreck into you like he had been. He chuckles, squeezing your jaw tighter and it opens from the pressure- his thumb sliding in for you to suck. 

“Don’t be greedy,” he clicks his tongue while slowly dragging his cock back and forth between your wet lips and letting the tip catch your clit but pulling back before it can really do much else other than stress you out and beg, “I’m being very fucking nice to you right now- don’t be a greedy little girl.” He notches at your entrance again, just teasing the tip slowly in and out to annoy you now. He doesn’t count on you still being so fucking pent up from two weeks of deprivation that you roll your hips into his, shoving yourself forward so he can ram back inside your wet cunt. It catches him off guard, the way you angle your hips so you can fuck yourself on his cock in desperation- sucking on his thumb and moaning helplessly while trying to catch back up to the fleeting orgasm from only moments ago. You’re fucking sight to behold in his eyes- chasing your own orgasm, taking it from him and he smiles now because- “that’s my fucking girl.” Pulling his hand away from your jaw and burying his face into your neck, he grab both your thighs to spread you open for him now so he can absolutely fucking ruin you. 

“Fuck- Jack,” the way you say his name is stuttered a bit with every thrust he pounds into your tight pussy. Your thighs start to shake, being forced open by his hands- you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow in the shape of his fingers wouldn’t be the first time- won’t be the last. “I missed you so much baby, fuck I love you, I love you so fucking much.” He moans into your neck, nodding with every single whisper or whine that you spit out as you drag your fingers through his curls to pull. When you’re close to a mind altering orgasm, you start talking- babbling almost incoherently about anything, how good his cock feels, how good he fucks you, how much you love him. When Jack is close- it’s the only time he ever fucking shuts up, concentrating on making you cum first before he can even think about getting there, listening to the way your voice gets higher like it does when your about to cum, feeling your thighs shake and your pussy clenched around him. 

“I’m- I need you to cum okay?” Pressing his forehead against yours, gritting out the words because it takes so much of his fucking energy to think and speak as he’s sliding viciously between your legs- the feeling has him drunk off your pussy and he needs to concentrate. You just nod, whimpering and inching your hand between you both to rub your clit but he catches it- pulling it up to kiss your knuckles before- “let me do it baby- let me.” He mumbles, dragging his rough hand down your body now and you swear you see stars when his fingers finally trace around your clit lightly. Even when he’s teetering on the edge of cumming so deep inside you with so much of his load- he needs to make sure you’re taken care of first. You tried. Fuck- you had tried so hard after that first week to get yourself off. Laying in bed with your fingers as deep as they could reach- but they weren’t like Jack’s. Didn’t reach like his could- didn’t fill you up like his and you just ended up annoyed and frustrated and digging in that box of toys for that vibrator he uses on you when you’re tied up to the bedpost and begging him to fuck you. It still didn’t work and after hours of trying you were in tears. 

“A-almost, fuck- almost there Jack,” the thick drag of his cock was laying waste to your pussy- demolishing every single thought you had about anything. The only thing you cared about in this moment was your husband on top of you, burying his face in your neck and biting his dog tags to keep from cumming until you’re ready. A few more rough thrusts, a few more rolls of his fingers around your clit and then it finally happens- the drop. The sick fucking drop of your gut and the pleasure takes over to seize your body in a blinding orgasm that has your mouth open in a silent scream- which would’ve been his name if you had any neurons available to do so. You thought your orgasm would inspire one in him- thought the spasms and clenching would push him to cum but he preserves. His pace falters slightly but Jack doesn’t stop, lets the dog tags fall from his mouth to lick up your neck and into your mouth now- tasting the way you whine and sigh, lazily letting his tongue trace along your own. His pace is slow now, removing his hand from your sore clit and inches his way slowly through your walls because he doesn’t want this to end. He’s been deprived of your body for two weeks- he tried to use his hand, fucking his fist in the shower while leaning against the tiles but it did nothing. He couldn’t cum no matter how much he thought of you, no matter how he stroked himself, fast, slow, hard, gentle- he wanted you. 

You know he wants to cum, you know Jack is using whatever sense he has left to force himself to make this last. You’re whispering to him- telling him it’s okay to cum, that you want him to cum inside you so bad. That makes his hips stutter, his resolve starts to crack because you’re begging him to cum now- begging him to fill you up with his cum and he’s fighting within himself. Between the feeling of wanting to cum so fucking back inside you and wanting this to last- he’s struggling. He forces himself to slow down more, resting his entire body on yours for a small bit of relief while just- grinding into you now as he figures out if he wants to cum or feel your hot, tight, throbbing pussy for longer. You’re bordering on the edge of too much- but you’ve missed Jack so much that you just lay there and take it. Take the impending overstimulation from how he lazily fucks into you. One of your hands comes to thread through his sweaty curls now, almost trying to soothe the tension that he’s creating within himself. You feel the tightness in your gut again- the first orgasm opening the door to countless more because your husband is fucking relentless and can’t make a decision on which way he wants to kill you. Jack mindlessly kisses and licks at your neck- moaning when he feels the trembling of your thighs from another devastating orgasm and you can only whimper through it. He pauses- momentarily because if he kept fucking your through your orgasm he’s sure he’d cum from the way your pussy flares and gets so much wetter. And once he knows you’ve came, his pace continues. Slow. Nowhere to be but in bed with you. Inside you

“J-Jack-” helplessly whining, ignoring the few tears that fall from your cheeks from a combination of pleasure and inching on pain. Not hurting but raw and sensitive no matter how fucking wet you still were. He doesn’t care- he makes a little shake of his head and a- ‘nuh uh’ sound that was muffled from being buried in your hair and shoulder. He can’t. Not yet. A few more minutes but not yet. He promises, mumbles that he will cum soon but he just needs to be inside you for a bit longer. The grinding of him inside you, not even thrusting just grinding to conserve his energy- has him rubbing against your sore clit and you can fucking feel another orgasm clawing its way up your chest and you have no time to mentally prepare because it’s slamming its way into you again. You shake and cry and whimper against Jack but he’s steady, sighing into the feeling of you trembling underneath him as if it was a comfort to him. He’s found his voice again- softly whispering praise into your ear and telling you how much he loves you, that he’s going to fill you full of his cum soon- ‘you’re being such a good girl for me baby, always my girl.’ You’re so tired and sore and the sun has finally risen fully to bathe your bedroom in light but you can only stare up at the ceiling, sighing with how softly Jack fucks into you because it’s so good- so fucking good but almost getting to be too much again. You can feel him throbbing inside you, his slow grinds have gotten sloppy- no real pace or rhythm to them as he’s losing the grip he had on his determination. 

“Cum inside me Jack-” you whimper, turning your face to nudge against his, making him look into your eyes. “I want you to cum inside me baby- I need it so bad. Please Jack?” God his heart and strength shatter when you beg. He’s never really been able to tell you no- not when it mattered really. You were his biggest weakness, Jack Abbot was a man fucking whipped for his wife- you who just have to bat your pretty lashes at him and he’ll fall to his knees for you. And asking him to cum inside you? He only gets a second- maybe two before he’s stalling and tensing while he cums inside you, making sure to get it as deep as he can. He doesn’t move- not just yet. Mumbling incoherent praise and kissing along your jaw and neck that was red and rare from his stubble making a mental note to yourself to make sure he shaves later. Leaning up on his elbows he pants, groaning just a bit when he finally pulls his cock out of you but doesn’t leave your arms just yet. Shared breathing and giggles, soft pecks of your lips against his- pushing the sweaty curls that have fallen onto his forehead back. 

“I love you,” he repeats, a final kiss as you happily moan into his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and stretching the aching muscles a bit. Jack rolls off of you, coming to lay shoulder to shoulder now and his hand drops to catch yours, bringing it up to his lips to kiss where your ring was nestled comfortably on your finger. 

“You need to shave,” turning to face him and running your hands over his jaw to emphasize the point. “Lucky you didn’t eat me out- would’ve had rug burn on both my fucking lips.” He barks out a laugh- intertwining your fingers together and letting your hands rest between you both. 

“Guess I know how I’m waking you up then,” he smirks, turning his head to meet your eyes and-

“If you give me beard burn on my pussy you’re taking full custody of the kids,” you throw back, sitting up to stretch and for a yourself to stand because you absolutely need a shower now and-

“So is that a no to licking you awake or?”

[petersspidey]

Sittin pretty

Summary: Cant help thinking of dressing up all cute and naughty for your oldman..

Warnings: pretty much pwp, piv sex, oldman logans glasses, smiiiiige of daddy kink?? Honestly very little of note.

This has been sat in my drafts for SO long and is mostly inspired (i say mostly.. I mean mainly..) by this here link <3 is this crappy? Possibly, but it has plagued my mind chat..

Masterlist

If theres one thing oldman Logan loves, is when his girl dresses up all pretty for him. When theres no rush to remove garments and you can just sit in his lap all pouty and sweet; ready to take away his aches. To take care of him.

Its not to say he doesnt love you naked- he does; he seriously cant get enough.. But the sight of you in something short and/or lacey with such easy access.. God it just makes his mind spin and cock throb harder than before. The possibility of bending you over and fucking into you endless in his mind.

You sit in his lap like that now, that light and airy energy overflowing from you as you straddle his lap on the couch.

Your bare tits sit close to his face, the buds already perky and spit soaked; matching tiny little top long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Your fingers tangle in the soft tufts at the back of his head, a gentle tug punctuating your grinds over his lap. Pantie clad core dragged over the chubbed bulge in his usual black slacks. Your soft moans and his quiet grumbles mixing together each time your lips meet.

Its not long before you're climbing from his lap however; the lack of friction proving too much and simultaneously not enough.

Logan sits stripped from his lower half, a rough hand tugging at his thick cock, whilst you stand infront of him to remove your soaked panties. You bend and turn, ass now bare aside from the tiny skirt sitting around your waist and the thigh highs that you know logan loves.

His eyes are hooded beneath his glasses, just watching with a little crease between his brows as he eyes the plush pout of your pussy. From the angle of you bent before him he can see just how glossy and wet you are; sticky thighs pressed together as you wiggle the fabric down your legs

Then, as quick as you had turned before, you do it again. Your mouth pressing a quick kiss to his flushed tip before you place yourself back in his lap. Those very same plush thighs now spread wide, bracketing his hips as you straddle him; cock nudged between your folds.

You grind slow on his lap, making his tip nudge against your clit, bare chest heaving when you sigh at the friction. "Cmon princess, nuff teasin.." he gruffs, low and grumbly as he swats a hand against the flesh of your ass. "Be a good girl and make us feel good"

With another rock of your hips you reach a hand down, notching his tip inside with a airy giggle. Eyes locked onto his as his cock makes home inside your soaked walls, jaw dropping into a little 'o'.

"So needy Daddy.." you coo playfully when you finally slip flush against his lap, a hand tugging in his greying hair as your other rests on the sofa behind his shoulder. His glasses falling down his nose as your breasts sit infront of his face again. One of his favorite sights.

You watch his gaze faulter between your face and tits, whining softly at the brush of his beard against your sensitive skin when you begin to bounce. Logans mouth encasing a nipple once again.

One of his strong hands gripping tight on your waist below the skirt, drifting to push the frames back into place as he feels each ripple of your walls, warm, wet and so fuckin tight around him. the slap of skin on skin joining shakey breaths and soft moans as you ride him.

But in your opinion, this goes on too long. The drift of his hands from your skin, pushing at his glasses time after time, a hastle you dont want for him. Not when its your job to help him wind down.

So when pleasure begins to coil tighter in your gut, and you observe the way the cheap plastic of his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose again, a hand drifts from his shoulders to hold his arm in place around you.

With the other you gently grip the edges, bringing them off his face, inspecting them for a moment before slipping them on. eyes adjusting more and more to the magnified tint with each pass of your hips

"How'd they look daddy?" you tease, voice gleaful at the grumble he makes when a sharp buck of his hips follows your words.

What a picture you look; sittin all pretty and bare in his lap, cunt full of his cock and wearing his glasses. Its a moment Logan wishes he didn't have to squint to see clearer, another drawback of his state these days.

Logan simply smirks, chest rumbling, eyes dark as his hips suddenly jut upwards sharply. Cock driving deeper inside as you keen forward against him; mostly kissed away lipgloss leaving a slight pink hue on the collar of his button down as your head drops with w gasp.

"Yeah, real pretty princess.." he murmers against your temple, voice low- honest. Chapped lips pressing a kiss against the skin.

His hips suddenly picking up in pace making you squeak in pleasure, practically trembling as he pounds into you; the wet slap of skin filling the air. "They aint gonna help you with seein stars though... Those'll be nice n clear by the time 'm done."

[petersspidey]

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader

thinking about aaron having such a big, girthy, and veiny cock. like he knows it’s big and when he’s inserting himself into you, you’re whining about how big he is and how he’s stretching you out and aaron’s just like “i know, baby,” cooing and saying “but you can take it. you’re taking me so good, don’t you know that?” and he’s just moving slowly into you. and when he’s fully inside of you, he kisses your forehead and goes “good girl, taking all of me,” before absolutely rocking your shit and making you cum all over his big cock

[petersspidey]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS - A.H x Reader

About: Aaron is served divorce papers after getting back from a case. The team goes out for drinks to decompress and you end up going home with Aaron.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, angst, smut, oral (f), fingering (f), unprotected sex, p in v, cheating?, insecurity problems, again this is angst, slightly intoxicated smut, mentions of a case, boss/employee dynamics, clawing at Aaron’s back, overstimulation, etc.

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: Hello! Please comment and reblog to support your creators! Borders made by @cafekitsune and thank you to @aureatelys for proofreading for me!!

When the team arrived back at the Bureau after a pretty tough case which included the abduction, burning, and mutilation of women, everyone was ready to decompress. It had been a tough case, hitting a bit too close to home for some of the team members. And so, when someone mentioned going out for drinks, everyone was happy to agree. Before you guys could leave, however, someone had stopped Aaron and handed him an envelope.

“Haley’s filing for divorce,” Aaron clarified, looking at the team. His gaze met yours, lingering briefly before he opened the envelope. He looked at the papers, sighed, and put them into his bag. “Shall we go?”

And so, you all were, in O’Keefe’s and drinking some alcoholic beverages. You were next to Aaron, sipping on a fruity cocktail of some sort while he drank a disgusting beer. Derek was dancing with some random women as Penelope watched, JJ and Emily were playing darts with some guys while Spencer sat with a few people, talking about whatever came to mind, and Rossi was outside smoking a cigar, leaving you and Aaron alone.

You had a good relationship with your boss. You both respected one another on a professional level. You were good at what you did and Aaron appreciated that. Just as you appreciated his authority and his ability to lead the team. He had always been someone you admired. The way he would balance leading the team, filing all the paperwork, and dealing with the bureaucracy that came with the position, all while having a wife and a child at home. You always knew it had to be tough and stressful on the man.

As you and Aaron sat at the table, you couldn’t help but look at him. Perhaps it was the fact that he looked so exhausted and worn out or maybe it’s the fact you’re attracted to sad and older men, but you couldn’t help but look at him. Part of you has always been attracted to Hotch. With his dark brown eyes, dark short hair, broad shoulders, how tall he was, and the way he was just so fit. Not to mention the way he was able to dominate a room. It often had you thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him. Was he as dominant in the bedroom as he was at work? Your imagination was endless with images of Aaron and all of the possibilities.

You knew it was wrong. He was a married man or at least would remain so until he signed his divorce papers. Not to mention the fact that he was also your boss. It broke many, many Bureau policies to even think of your boss in such a way. There’s also the fact that he was sad, going through such a tough time without anyone there for him.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” Aaron spoke, taking a sip of his beer, and keeping his gaze on the atmosphere in the bar.

You couldn’t help the small jump as Aaron’s voice, so soft and velvety that it never failed to have you clenching your thighs, kicked you out of your thoughts. Your cheeks felt hot, whether, from the alcohol or the embarrassment of getting caught, you weren’t sure. “Sorry,” You said, grabbing your drink and taking a sip from it, keeping your gaze on the table. “I just-” You paused for a second before reworking your sentence. “Are you alright?”

Aaron took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair as he turned his gaze to look at you. “I’m fine,” He said, his voice disingenuous as he spoke. You knew he wasn’t fine, no one would be in such a situation. Here Aaron was, building walls and avoiding the fact that he was going through such an emotional time. He was always like this. Hiding his true emotions to not let anyone in because if he lets someone in, it means admitting he’s not alright, admitting he’s weak, sustained by the abuse he endured by his father at a young age.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” You said softly, eyes softening as you looked at Aaron. “I mean divorce is a hard thing to go through.”

Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you, silence overcoming the two of you before he broke it. “Do you always do this?” He asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head. “Do what?”

“Try to fix sad men because you lack that control in your life?” He asked before taking another sip of his drink.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. It was the way Aaron coped, a defense to divert the attention away from himself. Aaron was entirely right, of course. It was something you had a bit of a habit of doing. Your previous relationships were brought upon the need to fix damaged goods. This was certainly no different. “Maybe,” You sighed, taking another sip of your drink. “Regardless, my point still stands. It’s okay to not be okay, Hotch,” You exclaimed.

Aaron hummed, placing his glass down. He called down a waiter, ordering you both another round of drinks before looking at you once more. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes raked over your body but as quickly as you had noticed, his gaze was on yours as if nothing had happened. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I suppose you’re right,” He exclaimed. “I’ll be alright though. It was bound to happen at some point.”

You shrugged, finishing off your drink. “Did she give a reason as to why she was divorcing you?” You asked as you placed the glass down.

“Not really,” He stated. “We’ve only talked in regards to Jack but other than that, not much else.” The new round of drinks was set on the table by the waiter, the both of you thanked him before he walked away. Aaron placed your drink in front of you before grabbing his own and placing it in front of him. “I know it’s due to this job.”

You nodded your head in understanding, unsure of what to say in response. It made the most sense. This job, as fulfilling as it was to put away the bad guys, also drained the life out of you. Having to drop anything and everything you’re doing at any given moment to save another city from a serial killer, really affected your day-to-day personal relationships. You couldn’t imagine how bad it was for Aaron, especially with his son involved. “I’m sorry,” You managed to reply, not wanting to leave Aaron’s words unacknowledged.

Aaron was silent for a few moments, looking into his glass, deep in thought. “This job, what we do, it’s important. We catch killers, we save lives, we are heroes. Until the time we go home and then everything changes. Then, I am nothing more than the father and the husband that is never there,” He took a deep breath before sighing.

You listened intently with sympathy. Hearing Hotch open up for the first time was a bit of a shock, the man had way too many defenses up that it made it hard to know anything about his private life other than what he wanted to share. “It’s incredibly lonesome,” you began, glancing around the room as your gaze caught onto each of the team members. “We work and work, trying to protect the citizens of this country, to make it a better place, and yet, no one outside of this team understands what we really go through in order to protect everyone.” You paused for a second, turning your gaze back to Aaron. “At the end of the day, no one will ever truly understand.”

Aaron’s eyes softened as he looked at you, taking in your words. “Which is why we find comfort in each other,” he replied softly.

“Which is why we find comfort in each other.” You repeated back, nodding your head. You glanced over at Spencer, who was on the other side of the bar talking very animatedly about something with Penelope and Derek, his hands moving wildly as he rambled on. JJ and Emily had walked over to them, joining in on the conversation and even Rossi joined in as well. Everyone gravitates back to one another eventually, it always happens.

“So how come, instead of talking with the others, you’ve spent the night sitting with me?” Aaron asked suddenly. “I can’t be too joyous to be around right now.”

You looked back over at Aaron, catching his knowing gaze. “You looked like you didn’t want to be alone tonight,” was your response.

“So it’s your savior complex,” Aaron replied with a faint smirk, amusement in his gorgeous brown eyes.

You laughed softly, nodding your head in agreement. “I guess so,” you exclaimed.

At that moment, as the two of you looked at each other, you weren’t boss and employee. You were simply Aaron and Y/N. Two souls, one shamed by his failed marriage and the other ridden with loneliness, finding solace in one another.

What was a seemingly innocent conversation in the bar had quickly turned into something much more than that when in the middle of your conversation, Aaron put his hand on your thigh. You should have stopped it right then and there, told him you both had to keep things professional. But the moment he breathed into your ear, asking you to keep him company for the night, you couldn’t resist. Not when it has been something you’ve been dreaming about since you joined the team.

And now, here you were, in the back of a taxi with Aaron, as the driver made their way through the city to Aaron’s new apartment. The two of you were sitting next to each other, Aaron’s legs were spread, causing his thigh to press up against yours. Other than that, however, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

That was until you arrived outside of Aaron’s apartment complex. The moment the two of you stepped out of the car, Aaron grabbed you by your hips, slightly tentative, as he looked at you. “We don’t have to do this,” He murmured. “We can just pretend this didn’t happen and I can send you home.”

You shook your head, putting your hands on Aaron’s shoulders. “I want to,” you replied softly. “I shouldn’t but I do.”

And that was all Aaron needed before leaning in, his breath fanning your face as his lips inched closer to yours. You were standing on the sidewalk outside of Aaron’s apartment building, about to kiss your boss. The thought should frighten you; yet, the moment he pressed his lips against yours, all thoughts and fears disappeared. You could taste the faint cheap beer that coated Aaron’s mouth as you kissed. Your heart was beating fast and yet, you were calm at the same time. And when you both eventually pulled away, you could see the fire in Aaron’s eyes in the way he looked at you and you were sure he could see it in yours as well.

It was wrong, you both knew it was. But none of that didn’t matter when Aaron was guiding you inside the building, feeling you up in the elevator, kissing you in such a way that it felt almost intoxicating. The drinks you guys had earlier could not compare to the way Aaron kissed you. It was almost dizzying and yet, you couldn’t get enough of it. Aaron had his hands firmly placed on your hips, kissing you hungrily. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling his muscles through the fabric of his dress shirt. One of his hands slipped down to your ass, causing you to let out a soft noise against his lips, which in turn caused Aaron to let out a low, soft chuckle that went straight to your cunt.

When the elevator dinged, the two of you pulled away, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves by any passersby who may want to use the elevator this late at night. Aaron put a hand on your lower back as the two of you walked to his apartment down the hall, stopping once you reached his door. You had never been to Hotch’s apartment, especially because it’s been so recent since his separation from Haley. You had expected it to be completely bare as soon as you walked in but instead, you were met with a relatively furnished apartment decorated with photos and small antiques. It wasn’t anything special but it showed the refined tastes of an older man, not a bachelor pad like you had expected.

As soon as you stepped in, Aaron closed the door behind you. He reached for you once more, pulling you in for another kiss. This one was more intense, and more passionate, showing the growing need between the two of you. You hadn’t expected Hotch to be much of a kisser but you certainly weren’t complaining as he guided you through his apartment with his lips attached to yours.

You placed your hands on Aaron’s suit jacket, pushing the fabric off of him. He removed his hands off of you for just a moment, shrugging off the jacket and tossing it somewhere in the apartment. You pulled away from the kiss for just a moment to speak. But Aaron had other thoughts. “We,” Aaron interrupted you by kissing you again. “Really, shouldn’t,” another kiss. “Be doing this.”

Aaron simply hummed “Mhm,” while still kissing you, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt and trailing it upwards. “I know,” He began but you interrupted him by kissing him. “It’s wrong,” You did so again. “As your boss-” His words fell flat when you pulled away just enough to pull your shirt off and toss it somewhere, revealing a simple black lace bra. “You’re so beautiful,” He murmured, taking you in.

You felt the heat in your cheeks as Aaron looked at you. “I think we are far past worrying about our professional dynamics,” You exclaimed, unable to help the smirk that formed on your lips.

“You’re right,” He confirmed, nodding his head. Aaron’s fingers moved to undo his tie, taking the material and throwing it wherever your shirt landed. He grabbed you again, his lips going from yours to your jawline, pressing soft feather-like kisses along your skin until he got to your neck. Your breath hitched as Aaron kissed your neck, the area being a bit sensitive to the touch. Aaron licked your pulse point, causing you to let out a soft noise. He nipped at it, leaving a small mark, though careful to not make it noticeable as a mark like that could cost you your positions if anyone were to find out who you had gotten it from.

After leaving the small mark, Aaron pulled away, placing his hands on your hips. He guided you to the couch, sitting you down on the leather material. You looked up at him with the prettiest eyes, almost causing Aaron to just say fuck it and take you right then and there. But he controlled himself, wanting to make this good for you both, even if it is for his satisfaction.

He got onto his knees, kneeling before you. “I want to taste you,” Aaron said, putting his hands on your knees. “Is that alright?”

You let out a breathless chuckle, unable to help it. It was sweet that Aaron asked, almost scared that you’d ever deny him anything. If there was one thing he should know about you, it’s that you’ve never denied any of Aaron’s demands. “Yes, please,” you said.

Aaron gave you a small smirk before unbuttoning your jeans. You lifted your hips slightly, allowing Aaron to pull them down completely as he threw them somewhere, leaving you in a pair of matching black lace panties. “Fuck,” Aaron breathed out, licking his lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?” You asked, your heart racing at the idea. “For how long?”

Aaron gently grabbed the hem of your panties, pulling them down. “For far much longer than I should admit,” he replied.

That thought made you feel a bit guilty. He likely had been harboring some sort of attraction to you for quite some time and the fact that he’s still technically married dawned upon you. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this and yet, that need you felt growing inside of you outweighed the guilt, especially when Aaron spread your legs and began kissing your inner thigh.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin. “So perfect. I’m going to ravish you tonight.”

“Please,” you rasped softly, looking at Aaron with an almost pleading expression. You desperately wanted to feel him, to have him do something. You have wanted him for far too long and now that you had him, you didn’t want to let go. You knew that you were just a mere distraction. Perhaps that was your flaw. Being the woman that distracts men from their problems. But you couldn’t help it. Not when the man you’ve harbored an attraction to was sitting before you, on his knees, telling you how beautiful you were.

Without further hesitation, Aaron placed a kiss on your pubic bone before dipping his head lower. He pressed his lips against your cunt, causing you to gasp as he kissed your pussy lips. Then, he stuck his tongue out, licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You let out a moan, spreading your legs further for Aaron to give him better access. Aaron groaned against your pussy. “You’re so sweet,” he said before diving back in, running his tongue in figure eights around your pussy.

“Oh,” you moaned, bringing a hand to Aaron’s dark hair, entangling your fingers into it.

To say it was heavenly would be an understatement. The way Aaron’s tongue lapped around your cunt and how his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it gently. You were whining in pleasure, throwing your head back. You’ve had people go down on you before but it was always a chore to them. This, however, felt like Aaron truly loved going down on you, adoring your pussy. He wasn’t hesitant to dive right in, holding your thighs with his arms as he practically held your cunt against his face. This was a man who thrived eating pussy.

As Aaron sucked on your clit, he trailed his finger to your pussy, teasing your hole by spreading it around the wetness. You let out a whine, tugging at Aaron’s hair, eliciting a moan from the older man. He inserted a finger, thrusting it slowly in and out of you. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, breathing heavily. Aaron eventually added a second finger, curling them to hit your g-spot. You gave a choked moan, and an almost whiny “Aaron,” escaped your lips, causing him to groan against your cunt once more. The vibrations add to the pleasure.

It wasn’t long before you were cumming with your head thrown back against the leather of the couch, thighs clamping around Aaron’s face and hand, and toes curling. And when you finished and relaxed against the couch, Aaron pulled away. His face glistened with your juices, his pupils dilated, and his hair was tousled all over the place from your fingers. He looked so incredibly attractive.

Aaron licked his lips, looking up at you as he was still kneeling. You were breathing heavily, looking at him with a blissful expression on your face. And all of a sudden, Aaron dived back in, eating you out more like a starved and deprived man rather than with precision as he did before. It wasn’t a matter of whether you came or not, it was a matter of what Aaron wanted. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to live between your thighs. “Oh!” You moaned loudly, your hands going back to Aaron’s hair as he began licking your cunt all over.

You were whining and moaning, writhing around on the leather of Aaron’s couch as he ate you out desperately. He began sucking and slurping up your juices, burying his nose into your cunt. It wasn’t didn’t take long for you to cum all over his face once more as Aaron moaned against your cunt, relishing in the fact you were pulling his hair. This was the sign of a pussy drunk man. And you adored it.

When you finished a second time, Aaron pulled away completely, taking a second to gather his breath before standing up. You looked up at him, legs spread with just your bra still on. He began to undo his shirt, frantically undoing the buttons. He wanted you. He needed to be buried inside of your cunt. He threw his dress shirt somewhere in the living room, not caring as to where it landed. “Need you,” Aaron said hoarsely, moving to undo his pants.

You watched as Aaron moved with desperation you had never seen in such a normally composed man. You reached behind yourself, undoing your bra and tossing it next to you on the couch. Aaron kicked off his slacks, revealing his boxers and his obvious erection. The outline of his cock was seen perfectly and your mouth practically watered at the sight. He pulled down his boxers, stepping out of them as he made his way back to you. His cock was big, bigger than you’ve ever had, and it was girthy too. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips as your cunt fluttered around nothing at the idea of Aaron fucking you.

Aaron gave a deep chuckle as he saw the way you reacted to him. “Lay down for me,” He said, standing in front of you on the couch. You obeyed, moving your legs onto the couch as you lay down on your back on the cushions. Aaron crawled on top of you, taking a second to just look at you, really take you in. You, one of his best profilers, were lying underneath him, on his couch, ready for him to take you. All because you didn’t want him to be lonely tonight. Admittedly, he felt guilty. He felt as though he was using you with how his wife had just left him. But he couldn’t deny the attraction he has felt for you since you had joined the team. And now that he finally had an opportunity to have you, he wasn’t going to lose it.

“Beautiful,” He whispered, leaning down to press a kiss onto your sternum before moving to kiss your boobs. He swirled his tongue along your nipple teasingly, eliciting a small moan from you, before kissing upwards to your neck and jawline. He reached between the two of you, gripping himself as he guided his cock to your folds. He rubbed the tip against your slit, spreading your wetness onto his cock before lining himself up against your hole. He slowly eased himself into you, causing both of your breaths to hitch.

“You’re so wet,” Aaron breathed out.

“Yeah, that tends to happen,” You replied, face contorting into slight pain as Aaron’s cock stretched you out. “You’re so big,” You whined slightly.

“I know, darling,” Aaron murmured, still taking his time to ease into you. When he was fully inside of you, he stayed still, giving you time to adjust.

After a few minutes, the pain subsided as you relaxed. The stretch turning from pain to pleasure. “Y-you can move,” you stuttered, looking up at Aaron as you bit your bottom lip.

Aaron didn’t hesitate to start moving his cock out of you before thrusting it back in, repeating those movements. “You’re so fucking tight,” He groaned.

You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as Aaron began moving his cock inside of you. The feeling was rather dizzying, more so than the kiss from earlier. The feeling was electrifying. He was so much bigger than anyone you had ever slept with and already so much better. You were sure that Aaron had ruined sex for you forever and you knew that this was likely going to be the only time you’d sleep with the man.

Aaron began picking up the pace, causing you to moan louder. “Aaron,” you said his name loudly, bringing your hands to his back, clawing at the skin. Not enough to hurt him but enough to cause Aaron to hiss in both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He groaned, fucking you deeply. To say he was feeling good would be an understatement. You were so warm, so wet, and so tight. He hadn’t felt something as amazing as your pussy in such a long time. At this moment, if Aaron died feeling your cunt wrapped around him, he would die a happy man. The fact his marriage failed couldn’t bother him when he was buried deep inside of you. “You feel incredible,” Aaron said, slamming his hips against yours as he fucked you.

“Just like that,” You whimpered as Aaron’s thrusts got more frantic. You could feel yourself getting close as Aaron’s cock grazed your sweet spot, making you see stars. “Am so close, Aaron.”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He grunted, moving inside of you. “Go ahead and cum for me.”

And that was all you needed before you were whining, arching your back as you clamped around Aaron’s length, moaning his name so prettily that he could’ve busted right then and there. And he did as he buried himself so deep inside of you and came, filling you up with his cum.

When you both were done, you expected to be finished, for Aaron to toss you to the side and tell you to go home. Instead, however, he maneuvered you into his lap as he sat on the couch, inserting himself back into you and using his cum as lube as he thrusts up into you, fucking you both into overstimulation.

The night was spent fucking each other in so many positions all over Aaron’s apartment. And by the end of the night, you were both spent, fully satisfied from the amount of orgasms you had. You were in Aaron’s bed after he came inside of you once more, lying next to him as you both breathed heavily. Once you had calmed down, you sat up in the bed, ready to get up and gather your things. But just as you stood up, Aaron grabbed your hand. You turned to look at him, seeing the almost pleading expression on his face. “Stay? Just for tonight?” He asked.

And how were you ever going to say no to that? “Sure,” You whispered, lying back down in the bed.

Aaron pressed a kiss onto your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. “Thank you,” He murmured against your skin, burying his face in your neck as he held you. You hadn’t expected Aaron to be much of a cuddler after sex and yet, here you were.

“There’s no need to thank me,” You murmured back, placing your hand on top of Aaron’s.

Eventually, sleep consumed you both, the exhaustion from the case and that night’s vigorous activities finally catching up to you.

In the morning, the sound of Aaron’s cell phone ringing awoke the both of you from your slumber. Aaron inhaled sharply before removing the arm that was wrapped around you. He reached for his phone, answering it with a deep, raspy morning voice that sent a shiver down your body. “Hotchner,” He rasped out. You turned from your side onto your back, the blanket drifting off of you and revealing your chest, causing Aaron to not so subtly look.

After a few minutes, Aaron hung up the phone, placing it back on his nightstand. “We have a case,” He said before getting up and out of bed.

You followed suit, shivering as the crisp air touched your skin. You took a second to gather your surroundings, stretching as you did so as Aaron walked over to his closet.

Neither of you spoke, not quite knowing what to say after last night's endeavors. You made your way out of his bedroom, going to the living room and gathering your clothes, getting dressed. You knew you were just a means to forget about the hardships Aaron was going through, nothing more and nothing less. At the end of the day, he was still your boss above all else.

And when you were completely dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Aaron came out dressed in a fresh suit. He looked at you for a moment before speaking. “Last night can’t happen again,” He said, his face and voice void of emotion as his walls were built up once more. “It was nothing more than a moment of weakness.”

You nodded your head in understanding, feeling your heart drop. “Of course, sir.” You agreed. Because of course, it was nothing more than that. And you would always be there to help in a moment of weakness.

Yet, that night, back at the hotel while on a case in Chula Vista, California, you found yourself in Hotch’s hotel room as he ravished you once more. By the next morning, he said the same thing as he had said the previous day. “It was nothing more than a moment of weakness,” in that soft, velvety, stoic tone. And thus began a strange arrangement where you’d sleep with your boss whenever he wanted it and you allowed it because you wanted it too.

[petersspidey]

i would heavily benefit from having sweaty motel sex with dean winchester

[petersspidey]

NSFW MDNI

Aaron Hotchner makes out with your cunt in such a messy and disgustingly hot way. It's his job when he's not in the office. Even when he is at the BAU it's still his job just with less noise involved, often with a hand over your mouth or his tie stuffing your mouth to keep you quiet as he gets on his knees with you on his desk.

[petersspidey]

insatiable

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: with an age gap like yours and aaron’s, it’s expected for there to be differences. aaron expected it, of course, but he never expected it to be like this. but is he really complaining?

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, established relationship, age gap, like two (2) spanks, some dry humping, p in v, cowgirl, cream pie, reader is a horn dog but hotch is whipped regardless, degradation, dirty talk, hints of sugar daddy!aaron, the word daddy used like once or twice oops

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i already had this in my drafts but when i saw this post i couldn’t help but speed up the process teehee 🤭 all i ever write is smut but i honestly cant help it lmao there’s something wrong w me

Aaron is a tired man.

A tired, busy, stressed, and overworked man.

He swears he somehow has six children despite only one of them having his actual blood and DNA.

He knows the relationship between him and the rest of his team has become fatherly in some aspects (keyword: some), even silently acknowledging the way they call him and Rossi ‘mom and dad’ behind their backs.

Yet, despite his love and respect for them, he was still a tired father man. A man that gave his team the weekend off so he could go home and sleep for 48 hours straight without the annoying six a.m. alarm that was constantly pending and going off.

But, of course, it seemed that you had others plans for him.

You, who he would normally classify as his sweet, beloved angel of a girlfriend, was secretly the devil reincarnated, someone who patiently waited for him to arrive to your shared apartment in order to attack.

He can sense the tension as soon as he steps inside the living area and sees you waiting for him on the couch, sitting primly with your legs tucked underneath you and facing the door. A sweet smile and seemingly innocent look adorns your face but Aaron knows better, and it doesn’t take a profiler to see the mischief that still sparkles through your facade.

He groans inwardly, not just because of those tactics of yours he’s already used to, no. But because of what you’re wearing. The cherry on top, truly.

A short, pink—and overall skimpy—nightie adorns your figure, the satin fabric shining the slightest bit from the glow of the table lamp from behind you. It ends at your mid-thigh, the lace adorned slit spread open over your skin, leaving little to the imagination. He can tell it’s new, a piece he hasn’t seen before—a piece he’s certain you bought with his credit card.

You look sweet, so sweet, but Aaron knows what you truly are.

A horny, insatiable beast.

Out of all the things Aaron has ever wondered in his life, he couldn’t help but be at a loss at how you’ve managed to conceal such ravenous desires with specious normalcy. He knew that hypersexuality and eagerness was a prone factor of yours, given the significant age gap between you two.

The insecurity prods at him now and then, the one that makes him think he’s far too old for a girl like you. But while he still considered himself to have a somewhat normal, healthy libido for his age, yours was over the roof—completely skyrocketed over what Aaron thought was the normal amount for a woman your age.

He doesn’t know how you do it, how you’re always ready to pounce on him at—quite literally—all times.

There’s been times where he’s been woken up with your mouth wrapped around his dick and your head bobbing up and down underneath the blanket, times where little to hardly no work gets done when he’s working from home because he just ‘looked so hot concentrated,’ times where his alarm goes off early in the morning and you call him back to bed with just a spread of your legs.

He swears he’s going to get a heart attack because of you one of these days.

The sound of you shuffling around the couch snaps him back to reality, swallowing harshly when you move to lean over the backrest of the couch. Your breasts push against the cushions, accentuating them further than the nightie allows.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He’s faced far worse monsters than a horny twenty-something-year-old, but he can’t help but look away in mortification as the exhaustion he was previously feeling begins to get replaced by his trousers tightening around him.

Your giggle snaps him out of his trance and he clenches and unclenches his fist, setting his suitcase down by the door. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You grin brightly, eyes twinkling in the low light of the apartment as you tap the seat next to you. Like a predator masking kindness and genuineness in order to get closer to their prey before they attack.

“How was work?” You ask, eyes following his every move as he cautiously makes his way over to you. You shift your body so that you’re facing him once he sits down, the top of your exposed knees brushing against the side of his thigh.

Aaron’s breath hitches. This was all part of your routine, your plan. He knows that you actually do care about how his days go, but right now, by that look in your eyes, he can tell you’re attempting to lure him in just like a siren does with a sailor.

If any of his team members were here right now they’d be snickering at how Aaron Hotchner, their seemingly stoic and intimidating boss, was turning weak in the knees for his horny girlfriend. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering, “It was good. Just a paperwork kind of day.”

You hum, nibbling at your bottom lip and leaning forward, one hand coming to rest on his pantsuit clad thigh. “I missed you today.”

It’s a ruse, Aaron says to himself. It’s all a ruse. The way you flutter your eyelashes at him and creep your hand further up. He knows it, he knows all of your little tricks.

Yet he still has to push you away. He never does.

“I missed you, too, sweet girl.” His heart flutters at the way you bite your bottom lip and smile, another endearing giggle echoing through the room before you finally move onto his lap.

Like a siren with a sailor.

You wrap your arms around his neck, practically shoving your boobs in his face as you settle yourself on either side of his thighs. Aaron groans when you plant yourself right on top of his growing bulge, throwing his head back as you begin to pepper needy, heated kisses all over his face.

His hands come to grip at your waist, hissing when you bite and suck at the sensitive skin on his neck. “Sweetheart—” he tries to usher you, to get you to slow down, but he’s cut off by you grinding down on his clothed dick, eliciting a moan from both of you.

“Missed you so much,” you repeat, voice coming out in a whine like you’ve been starved of his attention for months.

God, Aaron swears he can feel his body go into overdrive in order to attempt to keep up with you. Your lips continue to kiss at his neck while your hands eagerly work to undo his belt, messily pulling and tugging.

He hisses quietly when you reach inside his boxers to spring his cock free of its restraints, the bulge slapping against his tummy while the angry red tip leaks of precome.

“Y/N, honey,” he tries again, trying to regain control of the situation, as if he had ever had any of it to begin with. Another groan is pulled from the back of his throat when you wrap a perfectly manicured hand—a manicure he paid for, of course—around his length, interrupting his attempt to snap you out of your lust-filled haze.

You hum in satisfaction at the sight of him, moving your hand up and down, tugging at the base of his cock and running your thumb over the slit. “So big,” you whimper, nibbling at your bottom lip. “Missed your cock, Aaron. Always miss you.”

Aaron digs his nails into the fabric of the nightie, throwing his head against the cushions when you spit onto your hand and use it as lube to quicken your pace.

Maybe you were secretly a succubus, one that feigned purity and serenity to fool and lure in her victims before showing her true form. One that maxes out all of her victim’s credit cards to buy skimpy outfits and pay for all her things.

But who was he to deny you anything? Aaron never thought he would be able to handle all of this—all of you, even without the constant horniness— but here he was, fighting for his life while you lifted your hips and sunk down on his cock.

Aaron groaned again, the sound loud and guttural as it mixed in with your own cry of pleasure. Your walls clenched, wrapping around him like a vice who never wanted to let go.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his grip on your waist loosening and his hands skirting down your back to slip underneath the hem of your nightie, delivering a particularly harsh slap against your ass that makes you whine. “Take what you so desperately want all the time.”

He chuckles at the sight of your cheeks turning pink, your desperation overpowering your slight embarrassment as you begin to move your hips.

“Aaron,” you cry out, bottom lip jutting out and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What? Does that feel good?” He taunts, one hand slipping around your waist, keeping you close while the other leans against the backrest of the couch.

You nod, a fucked-out expression already taking its place on your face. “S-So good, I l-love it.”

“Yeah? You love it?” He coos when you nod again. “Dirty girl, always so needy and ready for me. You have no shame, do you, sweetheart?”

“Uh-uh,” you mumble, “Need you all the time, daddy.” The straps from your nightie slip down your shoulder as you lean backwards, resting your palms against his knees behind you before quickening your pace and bouncing needily.

“Shit, honey,” Aaron murmurs, taking in the sight of you before him. Your tits jiggled in his face, threatening to jump out of the fabric covering them, and your head was thrown back in utter pleasure while you rolled your hips. Some of the sweetest sounds Aaron had ever heard in his life were leaving your mouth, a mix of babbled words and moans.

“‘Mma, I’m g-gonna cum, ba-baby,” You whisper, too blissed out to form proper words. “I’m gonna—fuck—gonna c-cum, Aaron.”

Aaron could practically feel how close you were, your walls clenching and unclenching around him repeatedly as you pushed through the pain shooting up your thighs and continued bouncing on his cock.

“You’re going to be the death of me, sweet girl,” he mutters, stopping your irregular movements before pulling you into his chest and taking over for you.

A loud, practically pornographic moan echoed through the apartment as he began thrusting up into you, settling himself further down the couch for a better angle. The only sounds that could be heard were his low grunts and your high-pitched moans along with the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing in with the squelching sound of your pussy.

Repeated strings of ‘yes, yes, yes’ left your mouth, teeth digging into your bottom lip harshly and toes curling as you felt your orgasm approach you violently. You shook in his hold, adding to his thrusts by bouncing up and down again as best as you could.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Aaron whispers into your ear, tightening his hold on you. “Come on my cock, you wanted it so bad, right?”

You nod dumbly, eyes shut and face contorted into pure, utter bliss. You quiver when another slap is delivered to your ass, and it doesn’t take long for you to finish right then and there. You squeal in his arms, body stuttering and shaking as your orgasms rips through your body and invades all your senses.

Aaron presses a chaste kiss to your cheeks, not letting go of his hold on you as he continues thrusting up inside your gushing cunt, his own movements becoming sloppy as he feels his own high approach.

“Aaron,” you sigh, “Come in m-me. P-Please, fill me up,” you throw your head back, “Want it so bad.”

All it takes are those words for him to unload inside you, another groan escaping as white, hot ribbons of his come spurt deep inside you, mixing in with your own release.

You both lay still there, his cock still inside you as you attempt to regain your breath. After a while, you giggle breathily, coming up to wrap your hands around his neck and lay your head on his shoulder tiredly.

“What a shame you have to go back to work tomorrow,” you say, the pout on your lips evident despite Aaron not being able to see you properly.

This next part he knows he shouldn’t say, but he can’t help himself.

“I, uh, gave the team the rest of the weekend off.” He feels you freeze in his arms. “I’ll be home, honey.”

You sit back up, your eyes holding that hunger again as you stare up at him and tilt your head to the side coyly. “Really?”

He nods, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You giggle again. “Well, looks like we’ll have a lot of time to ourselves then, no?”

Aaron groans when he feels you begin to clench around him again.

When he goes back to work the next Monday, he’s approached by a confused looking Rossi, the older man’s brows furrowed as he takes in his appearance.

“You look more tired than before?” He says, the observation coming out as a question.

Aaron sighed.

Yes, you were insatiable. But he was, too.

[petersspidey]

I would love just a crazy detailed description of how Hotch is when he cums

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader

okay so hotch cumming 100% depends on how long it’s been and how stressed he is. when aaron fucks, he FUCKS. he’s hard with it, putting all his stress into it, thrusting his hips so fast that the only sounds in the room are of his skin slapping against yours. aaron has a huge breeding kink naturally so when he’s cumming, he’s burying his cock so deep inside of you while filling you up with ropes of his cum while burying his face in your neck. you’d hear his grunts and the praises about how fucking phenomenal you feel around him. and when he’s finished, he’s usually completely spent, breathing heavily and ready to go to sleep.

[petersspidey]

Shut Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (fem intended)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, oral (f receiving), fingering, smut, I wrote this on my phone so minimal layout and editing

A/N: hi hello I know I haven’t posted in forever I’m sorry, please take this as a peace offering 🥺

Bucky couldn't even remember what you were fighting about earlier. He knew it was stupid, childish even. You two bickered all the time, you always had ever since he met you. He liked to rile you up, see how angry and frustrated he could make you - the kind, polite, quiet one. Something about how you scrunched your brows, bared your teeth, and let the sweet girl facade fade. It made him feel alive. 

But the second those words left your mouth, his mind had gone blank, and the argument ready on his tongue fizzled away. 

"Maybe if I sit on your face, that'll shut you up." 

You'd threatened him with bodily harm and spewed hate-filled words at him. But this kind of retaliation was a first. And, oh did he like it. 

He more than liked it.

You'd followed him to his room earlier in the heat of your argument so there was no need for pause, or hesitation, or secrecy, before his lips landed on yours, silencing you. Your body slumped against his, all the tension and anger fizzling out into nothing as your hands gripped the front of his jacket. His feet guided you to the edge of his bed where he turned and sat, finally releasing you. 

"Then do it." He'd countered, daring you to follow through with your threat for the first time. And when your eyes locked with his, your pupils blown wide and a hesitant look on your face, he smirked, "C'mon, you know you want to." And when you still didn't move, "unless you're all talk." 

That'd done it. You hiked up the skirt of your sundress as you crawled on top of him, his smirk growing as you hovered over him, the damp spot on your panties on display for him. He instantly wrapped his flesh hand around your waist to pull the fabric to the side, using his metal one to guide you to his mouth. 

He let out a low groan as soon as the taste of you hit his tongue. He never realized how badly he'd wanted you. He was still navigating being normal again, not being The Winter Soldier, that oftentimes the way his body reacted or his heart thudded against his chest went unnoticed, or left him in a stupor. But with you now grinding down on his tongue, it all clicked for him. 

But he'd tuck that little secret away for now. 

He could tell you were hovering, not letting him have the full weight of you and he pulled his mouth off you, chuckling at the pathetic whine that slipped past your lips as you looked down at him. 

"Don't hover," He ordered, "I want all of you." 

Your brows pinched and you only replied with, "And I want you to shut up," Before fully taking your new seat. The authority in your tone and the true weight of you on his mouth had his pants growing tight but he didn't want to take his hands off of you. Not as he reached up with his vibranium hand and gripped one of your breasts, massaging it as he pulled it over the fabric of your dress, lightly tugging at the nipple once it was free. 

The moan that left your mouth at the coldness of his hand on your skin was pornographic with your head tipped back and your hands laying over his own, guiding them to how you liked to be touched, tightening his grip over your skin.

He decided then and there as you looked down at him, your jaw slack and the most beautiful sounds falling from your mouth, that he could do this forever. You were so beautiful like this, on the edge of release with him being the one to get you there. 

He was never letting you go after this.

He slipped his hands out of yours, reaching his flesh one up to grip what he could reach of your neck, the other sliding under your ass to slip a finger in your soaked core. Your hands dove to tangle and tug at his hair as your moans pitched higher and louder, his name a chant on your tongue as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, tongue circling and lips closing around your clit while you practically fucked yourself on his fingers. 

He wanted you to cum - needed it. So when his fingers curled and your moans turned to begging, he copied that same motion over and over and over until a gasp tore your breath from you. 

As quickly as he could, he pulled his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue just as you fell over the edge, all but screaming his name, your legs clamping around his head as he swallowed your release, groaning into your skin. 

Your hands left his hair and wrapped around his arms that were holding you up, holding on like he was your life line. He traced a few lazy circles around you with his tongue as your body relaxed before lifting you and sliding you down to sit on his chest. 

When you looked at him, your confidence started to slip away, a sheepish, “sorry,” falling on his ears. He sighed with what he knew was the dopiest smile he’d ever let you see as his hands reached up to cradle your cheeks. 

“Babygirl,” he’d laughed, “you can shut me up like that any time you please.” 

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[petersspidey]

No thoughts except Aaron not being able to resist his feelings for you anymore whilst staying at a hotel for a case. Keeping his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet so the team in the next room don't hear through the thin walls

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader | unprotected sex, p in v

thinking about how aaron would totally turn you around and pin you against the wall of the hotel room, taking you from behind with one hand on your hip and the other on your mouth to keep you quiet. his thrusts are harsh and needy, the way your cunt was gripping him making him get lost in the pleasure. all while you both tried to keep quiet to not alert the team as the walls of the hotel were extremely thin. all while he’s whispering praises into your ear, telling you how good you feel and that you’re so wet for him and how he’s been wanting you for so long. UGH I NEED TO WRITE THIS FIC

[petersspidey]

nsfw | mdni | early season two spencer reid x reader | oral (m)

thinking about giving early season two spencer head for the first time. he’s completely a virgin, has never had any sexual experiences except with his right hand. so when spencer tells you that, you decide to take it upon yourself to teach him all the experiences he can enjoy. the first being a blowjob.

you were slow with it, massaging his thighs and making sure spencer was comfortable on his couch. when your tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, he can’t help the unmanly whine that left his lips. he’s watching you intensely, ingraining the vision of you on your knees in front of spencer into his head.

you put your lips over the tip of his cock, sucking gently and swirling your tongue. he inhaled sharply, unable to help his eyes from fluttering closed. spencer awkwardly had this hands to his sides, unsure if he was allowed to entangle his fingers into your hair or hold your face. he didn’t want ruin the moment.

and when you slowly ease down onto his length, spencer’s brain goes to absolute mush. he tried his best not to cum. you had only just started, he wanted to relish in it. but he was also a pathetic virgin who had never gotten his cock sucked.

your head moved up and down his length. your mouth was so wet and so warm around his cock. his breathing was heavy and shaky, letting out whimpers and whines with each of your movements. “s-so good,” he moaned, opening his eyes to look at you.

you were looking at him through your lashes, your lips wrapped so beautifully around him. whether this ever happened again or not didn’t matter because this was ingrained in spencer’s eidetic memory forever and he most definitely will be jerking off about this frequently.

it didn’t take long at all for spencer to cum. you had added your hand into the mix, jerking off whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth, and spencer was done for. he bucked his hips into your mouth, letting out a choked moan as he came down your throat. and when he came, it was A LOT.

don’t even get him started on the first time he went down on you. one taste of your cunt and he was obsessed.

[petersspidey]

nsfw | mdni

imagine riding post prison spencer. he’s quiet, always calculating. you’re on his lap, bouncing on his cock and he’s looking at you, breathing heavily but his eyes do not leave yours. when you close your eyes in pleasure, throwing your head back, spencer wraps his hand around your neck, guiding your head to look back at him. and he’d say “eyes on me,” in a commanding but soft tone which just absolutely sends your brain haywire.

i need him so bad