#CoS!masterlist

[kamiversee]

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

“You’re no princess, just a slut with a crown.”

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin. 

❀ ~ Need To Know > Part of this story was originally written by me on Wattpad, under a different title & with different characters. I no longer write or upload over there so I have recycled that plot entirely.

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. choso x f!reader. ino x f!reader. nanami x f!reader. shiu x f!reader. yuki x f!reader. shoko x f!reader. higuruma x f!reader. utahime x f!reader. ijichi x f!reader. kusakabe  x f!reader. kashimo x f!reader. uraume x f!reader. yaga x f!reader. (slight) naoya x f!reader.

❀ ~ Content > princess!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, possessive men & women, bisexuality, angst, fluff, royal non-curse au, historical setting, inaccurate depictions & occurrences of history (please rmb this is just a fanfic lol), reverse harem, jealousy, heavy yearning, mutual pining on some ends, toxicity, lengthy chapters, debauchery, every troupe you can imagine ngl--ik you see tht list of pairings, heavy porn w decent plot, & above all else, 18+ scenes.

Segment I.

| Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 5 | Chpt 6 |

|| @kamiversee || ff status: ongoing || Hope you enjoy! <3 ||

[reputationolivia]

try again?

would anyone be interested in this, i thought of this plot awhile back and started working on it recently but i feel like its just gotten long and idk i feel like it might be a bit boring? so idk if anyone would be up for reading this! but i put a little snippet of it here so if anyone sees this please share your thoughts! :)

18+ minors dni

warnings: none for this one yet.

summary: you and harry dated for almost 5 years but you ended things, only problem? you got a cat together three years ago that you co-parent.

wc: 1.8k

I glanced around in search for opal as I tied the laces on my shoes. She’s always been good at hiding when she sees her crate out and ready for her, but i was ready for her today with her favorite treat in hand. "Opal, where are you baby?” I called for her. pacing through the living room I heard a faint meow coming from the kitchen, and i sighed, already knowing where she would be - the narrow gap between the counter and the fridge. I bend down and waved her treat in front of her little face to get her interested in it. “Come on out sweetie,” i coaxed, slowly her fluffy face popped out of the gap and she began licking the treat. I took this as my opportunity and gently tugged her out and scooped her up, letting her have the entire treat now as I walked over to her crate.

As I helped opal get settles into her crate I tried not to think too much about the trip ahead and what’s to come. The keys jingled in my hands as i snatched them from there small side table near the front door creating a slight sound of normalcy between all of the craziness my life has been lately. I slung my headphones around my neck, and with opal securely inside her carrier i finally stepped out into the bright, sunlit street. I caught my reflection in a car window and felt a bit ridiculous - sunglasses on, headphones dangling, and cat in tow - i shrugged it off and began my journey to the subway station.

The subway ride was pretty uneventful, at least it was at first. Opal was sitting quietly in her crate beside me as she watched the window in front of us, watching the city blur through the window. I put my headphones on and mindlessly browsed through Apple Music, i eventually decided on just playing “my station” after not being able to settle on any of my existing playlists. I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular really, i mean besides the fact that I was currently on my way to meet my ex boyfriend of 4 1/2 years. As if my phone knew what was on my mind a familiar melody began playing, i felt my body tense as i recognized it immediately, my chest tightened and the air suddenly became too thick to breathe. I reached for my phone to skip to the next song. It was his song, of course it’d be my luck that’s the song that starts playing as I’m on my way to see him again. Of course, skipping it didn’t help, the damage was done.

Moving on has been hard, actually it’s been more than hard, it’s been hell, absolutely brutal. We were together for so long, four and a half years. That’s a long time to share a life with someone, it wasn’t just the memories that lingered though - it was our plans, the dreams we shared that we’d stay up all night talking about, when the world felt ours. Marriage, kids, a beautiful house with a garden, i thought it was all within reach, that it was just a matter of time. But now? Just the sound of his voice in a song sends me spiraling. It’s only been a couple months since we broke up, and seeing him as often as I do doesn’t exactly help with the whole “moving on” thing.

But now, all we have left is opal.

Opal. Our little baby. She wasn’t quite a child, but the closest thing we had. We adopted her when she was just a baby, three months old. After we broke up neither of us could bear to part with her. we had gotten her together so in the end we decided on co-parenting opal, which isn’t ideal but at the very least she had two people who loved her, and despite our failed relationship i knew she was safe with him. Even if seeing him every time i dropped her off still hurt.

The familiar ding of the subway pulled me out of my thoughts and i realized we were at our stop. I pulled my headphones back down to the back of my neck as i stood up, then grabbed opals crate and hopped off the subway. I felt like the subway ride ended far too quickly, and before i realized it i was walking up the now somewhat familiar street towards his apartment. as i got closer and closer each step i took felt heavier than the last. It felt like i was dragging the weight of everything we left unsaid, unresolved. I tightened my grip on opals crate, her quiet purring served as a reminder that despite everything, some things hadn’t changed.

But most things had.

I wasn’t the same person who used to walk the streets of New York with him by my side, laughing at the stupidest things, talking absentmindedly about everything, and nothing at all. Yet now it feels like that was a lifetime ago when in reality it was just a few short months ago. And now here i was, walking the streets of the city we once shared, alone. Having to act normal in front of the man i loved, love but trying not to as I’m about to hand over our cat like it was just some business transaction, something normal.

Ahead i spotted him standing in front of his building. He was leaning against the wall near the doors to the lobby, looking down at his phone, a casual stance that didn’t betray any of the turmoil i was feeling. Typical harry, i thought. Always composed, always calm. I wished i could say the same for myself. I reached up with my free hand to adjust my sunglasses, hoping they hid more than just the sun from my eyes. As i approached his eyes were still glues to his phone, did he even notice i was walking up to him? Now a few feet away from him, i clear my throat in hopes of catching his attention, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.

He finally looks up, his green eyes meeting mine, and though he couldn’t see mine due to my sunglasses i swore i could see something flash in his - recognition? Annoyance? Regret? I couldn’t quite place it. Maybe I’m just imagining things. “Hey,” he said, finally pushing off the wall and sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey,” i replied, keeping my voice as steady as i could even though every bit of me felt like breaking and like my voice was shaking with the tension of being this close to him. We walk into the lobby and i crouch down to let opal out. Immediately, she dashed out of her crate, and toward him, brushing against him with a happy meow. I couldn’t help the slight pang of jealousy i felt at how easily she seemed to adjust to this life of back and forth we’d created for her. I wish it was that easy for me.

“It’s been a while, nice shoes by the way.” Harry said as he crouched down, scratching opal behind her ears. He didn’t look at me when. He said it, instead keeping his eyes on opal. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a subtle dig when he said it’s been a while. “Yeah works been a bit hectic, and thanks.” I responded as i stood there awkwardly and hugged my arms to myself. Suddenly the distance between us felt a lot larger than just a few feet.

He stood up slowly, his gaze finally meeting mine, and i just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “How’ve you been?” He asked, for a moment i almost believed he actually wanted to know.

Good. You?”

“Same.” he said, glancing down at opal again.

The conversation stalled, i could feel the silence expanding between us, this is all we had now — awkward exchanges, empty words just to fill the space where something real used to be. I wanted so badly just to say something, anything that could break through the surface. I didn’t even know where to start, everything felt too different, too fragile and close to breaking. Opal meowed again, winding between our legs, completely oblivious to the tension hanging in the air between us.

I sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “She’s been eating normally. Likes to hide under the bed more often lately but that’s probably because of all the travel recently.” Harrys eyes softened a little. “Yeah, she’s always liked her hiding spots huh.” He paused, then added, “I’ve missed her.” His words hung there, suspended in the air between us for a while and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking about opal. I nodded at his words, something about the way he said it lingered longer than it should have, i tried to push it aside, maybe I’m just reading too much into his words. Looking down at opal again i sighed, “i’ll uh, see you later.” I mumbled, now just wanting to get out and as far away from this awkward situation as possible. I turned to walk away before he could say anything, i felt his eyes on me as i made my way towards the lobby door. His gaze was sticking with me more than i wanted it to.

As i exited the building, i felt my footsteps heavy on the ground again. I took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air and trying to clear my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the what-ifs. How i wish i could be done with all this. I couldn’t afford to keep dwelling on our past, especially not with everything going on. At least through all this change i still had my job, and im fortunate enough to really love my job. My job has always been my escape, allowing be to take a break from my real life and everything i had going on. I could create stories outside my own, i could be in control, or at the very least, i could pretend to be. But in moments like this, i was just me - and I couldn’t pretend to be anyone else. I had no script or direction, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

The months after the breakup have been such a blur, it’s like I’ve been moving on autopilot. Filming, press events, and trying to keep it together in front of the cameras. I was good at that. I’ve played so many different roles, performed rehearsed lines perfectly, but none of that could’ve prepared me for the messy reality of seeing him. Missing him.

[lady-ashfade]

🗡️ Table Of Contents 🗡️

Tumblr aesthetic by @lynzouu

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

╰･ﾟ✧☽ I only make fics for readers, y/n's. Please read the rules because I feel bad when you request something and I can’t do it because you haven't read the rules. But I love all of you the same. You can call me ash, or anything you want to really. Also a chubby person runs this account.

[classes and work are killing my motivation]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Request WIP For Now

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Backup account is @lady-fadeash , You may follow @ms-fade for some 18+ fies, I know them well!

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ Information ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Rules For Requesting ´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Characters I write for. ´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒

Basic Prompts list ´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Quotes Prompts List ´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ My tag-list. ´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ A Place Of Reminders ´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Fics I Recommend

Takin by the talented @madame-fear please go check out their work!! She can write better then the moon and the stars

ꜜ -`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ Masterlists ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`- ꜜ

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Other Concepts

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Actor’s

╰･ﾟ✧☽ OC Concepts

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Tv Shows

╰･ﾟ✧☽ House Of The Dragon

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Percy Jackson

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Bridgerton

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Cobra Kai

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Stranger Things

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Umbrella Academy

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Julie And The Phantoms

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Wednesday

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Lockwood And Co

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Shadow And Bone

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Heartstopper

╰･ﾟ✧☽ The Walking Dead

╰･ﾟ✧☽ The Rookie

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Anime Category

╰･ﾟ✧☽ My Hero Academia

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Demon Slayer

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Movies

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Narnia

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Spider-Verse

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Marvel

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Karate Kid

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Blue Beetle

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DeadPoll

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Video Games

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Baldur’s Gate 3

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Fallout

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: Arranged Marriage

Requested (a few times! You like this trope huh.) G/N. Arranged marriage trope but this blorbo is soft for you.

Gun is concerned.

This marriage, this alliance, was to consolidate power between his clan and yours. Born of convenience. It was supposed to be a business partnership, nothing more. Cold and unfeeling-

Was unfeeling. But then the feelings crept in. Little by little, day by day, moment by moment. With every gaze, every smile, every word, Gun felt himself losing control. Slipping and falling.

Your presence was easy to adjust to. You were quiet, at first. Taking up little space and staying out the way. Except it became too easy for Gun. Having someone else in his home, a comforting presence of someone on the same side as him; that is there, for better or worse, even if it's just supposed to be on paper and nothing else.

Your gaze attentive, smile sweet and words sincere. Mind sharp and tongue even sharper. You continually helped him plot his next move, pointed out gaps in his defence he couldn't see, cared for him in ways he never experienced before.

Despite everything, despite what some would believe - Gun Park is human after all. 

How could the feelings not creep in? How could the thoughts not linger late at night when he knows you're in the next room over, sleeping alone, instead of next to your husband (even if it's just supposed to be on paper and nothing else).

This marriage is of convenience, but it can be of other things too. Gun is never one to back down without a fight, and this is worth fighting, it’s worth dying on this hill.

He stops outside a florist and wonders what flowers you would like.

He pauses outside a restaurant and wonders if a date there would be to your taste.

He notices couples his age, spending time together, hands roaming and muttering in each other's ears, and wonder if you would like that too.

However. One step at a time.

As you cuddle up next to him that evening, watching a movie, a mundane activity, a mundane action expected of any couple - he wonders where this closeness has come from, if he started it or you.

Either way, Gun doesn’t want to wonder anymore. He's ready to confess.

[badathumanemotions]

Stepping Into Desire

Emily Prentiss x Fem Reader MDNI Category: Smut CW: Teasing, Praise, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Strap On, Obsession with how Emily looks in heels, Vaginal Sex, Aftercare. WC: 4,591 Emily decides to wear heels and a tight skirt to catch the attention of a certain co-worker. (Not Proof Read) Master List

"Happy Friday, Y/N," Emily Prentiss said, her voice a gentle caress as she strolled into the BAU office. The early morning light streamed in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and glinting off the edges of her sharp black heels.

Y/N looked up from her paperwork, her gaze immediately drawn to the long, sleek lines of those heels. They were new, and they added at least four inches to Emily's already-impressive height. Her legs looked like they went on for miles, and the tight skirt she wore did nothing to hide the way her hips swayed with every step. Y/N felt a familiar warmth spread through her body, and she swallowed hard to keep her mouth from watering.

"Thanks, Em," she replied, her voice a little huskier than usual. "You look… amazing."

Emily's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye as she sailed over to Y/N's desk, her heels clicking rhythmically against the floor. She leaned down to whisper in Y/N's ear, "Glad you noticed." The scent of her perfume, something faintly floral, tickled Y/N's nose, making it even harder to focus on the reports in front of her.

Y/N's pulse quickened as she watched Emily's ass sway away from her, the tight fabric of her skirt hugging every curve. She knew she was in trouble. The workday had barely begun, and already her thoughts were spiralling into a vortex of desire and need. The way Emily looked in those heels was like a siren's call, impossible to resist. Her mind wandered to the countless times they had played out scenes like the ones she was fantasizing about now. The thrill of getting down on her knees, feeling the power dynamics shift as she looked up at Emily, towering over her, in control.

With a deep breath, she tried to refocus on the case file in front of her, but every few minutes, she'd catch a glimpse of Emily's cleavage peeking out from her blouse as she leaned over a colleague's desk, discussing the latest intel. Each time it was like a dagger to her concentration, her eyes drawn inevitably to the alluring sight. The tension built, a slow burn in her belly that she couldn't ignore. Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on her keyboard, her eyes frequently darting up to where Emily was, her heels giving her that extra edge of dominance that Y/N found so utterly intoxicating.

When Emily bent over to retrieve a fallen pen, the hem of her skirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing strip of thigh, Y/N felt a jolt of pure need shoot through her. She clenched her jaw, her eyes lingering on the creamy expanse of skin, the shadowy promise of what lay beneath. It was barely noon, and her resolve was already cracking under the pressure of her desire. She knew she had to get a grip, but the way those heels made her legs look and the way that skirt hugged her hips was too much to bear.

As if sensing Y/N's distraction, Emily glanced back over her shoulder, a smoldering look that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. She straightened up, her eyes locking with Y/N's, and then she did something that sent Y/N's pulse racing even faster: she winked. It was a subtle gesture, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make Y/N's heart skip a beat.

A few minutes later, Y/N noticed Emily heading towards the bathroom, her heels clicking with purpose. The urge to follow was too strong to resist. Waiting a couple minutes she took a deep breath and stood up, her own steps echoing down the hallway as she pursued the object of her desire. The bathroom was empty when she arrived, the door to the last stall closed.

Emily emerged, heading over to the sink to wash her hands, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Everything okay?" she asked, her voice a low purr that sent a thrill through Y/N's body.

"You know exactly what you're doing," Y/N accused, her voice a heated whisper. She stepped closer, her eyes travelling up the length of Emily's legs to where they disappeared beneath the skirt's hem. "Walking around here all day in those heels and that skirt… dropping pens like it's an accident… You're trying to kill me."

Emily's smirk grew wider, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Am I?" she said, playing dumb. She dried her hands and leaned against the sink, her hips cocked to one side. "What makes you say that?"

Y/N stepped closer, closing the gap between them. "You know exactly what you're doing to me," she murmured, her hands itching to reach out and touch. "Every step you take, every time you bend over, every little look you give me… It's driving me crazy."

Emily's smirk grew playful as she took a step back, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked, her voice a teasing challenge.

"God, no," Y/N breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. "But I might not survive the workday."

Emily's laugh was low and rich, a sound that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. "Well, you did say you had a thing for my heels," she replied, her eyes dropping to Y/N's mouth. "Maybe I should wear them more often."

"You're playing with fire, Prentiss," Y/N warned, her voice thick with lust. "If you don't want me dragging you into a supply closet every free second of the day, you'd better watch it."

Emily's eyes lit up with excitement at the challenge. "Is that a promise?" she asked, her voice dripping with seduction. She took another step closer, their bodies almost touching. The air between them crackled with tension, and Y/N could feel the heat radiating from her lover's body.

Then, without warning, Emily leaned in, her breath a soft ghost against Y/N's parted lips. For a moment, Y/N thought she was going to kiss her, but instead, she pulled away with a laugh, leaving Y/N hanging, desperate for more. "You'll just have to control yourself, won't you?" she said, her voice taunting.

Y/N watched her go, her legs trembling slightly with the effort of not chasing after her. Emily's heels clicked away down the hall, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her racing thoughts. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, feeling the phantom warmth of Emily's breath, and took a deep, steadying breath. It was going to be a long day.

Back at her desk, Y/N tried to bury herself in work, but it was a losing battle. Every few minutes, she'd catch a glimpse of Emily's legs as she moved around the office, and each time, it was like a fresh jolt of electricity. She found herself daydreaming about those moments in the heat of passion when she'd bend Emily over the desk, her skirt hiked up, exposing her wet pussy to the cool air. The way Emily's pussy would clench in anticipation, her breath hitching as Y/N's tongue danced along the sensitive flesh, teasing her until she was begging for more.

The fantasy grew more vivid with each passing second, her thoughts straying to the way Emily's moans echoing in the quiet office. Y/N felt the pressure building, the need to touch herself, to find some relief from the torment Emily had unwittingly unleashed. She shifted in her chair, trying to ignore the dampness growing between her legs, the fabric of her panties sticking to her skin.

The image grew clearer in her mind: Emily standing before her, completely naked except for those heels, her strap-on jutting out from her hips like an invitation. Y/N could almost feel the heat from her body, see the beads of sweat forming along her collarbone, as she knelt before her. Emily's hand would gently guide her head closer, her breathing growing heavier, the smell of arousal filling the air.

Y/N's eyes glazed over, her hand slipping to her own thigh, her grip tightening as she imagined herself in that moment. The way Emily's strap-on would feel against her mouth, the taste of silicone and desire. The power Emily exuded as she looked down at her, the tip of the dildo brushing against her parted lips, demanding entry. Y/N's heart raced at the thought of taking her in, her tongue sliding along the length, feeling the vibrations of Emily's need, her eyes never leaving her lover's.

The office buzzed around them, but Y/N was lost in her own world, a world where the only thing that mattered was the heat building between her legs. She felt like she was going to combust, the pressure of her arousal becoming too much to handle. But she held on, knowing that if she could just make it to the end of the day, she'd get to act out all her fantasies with the woman who had her so thoroughly captivated.

As the clock finally ticked down to closing time, Y/N practically sprang from her chair, the paperwork forgotten. She had made it, the eternal minutes stretching into hours had passed, and she was going to get her reward. She watched as Emily gathered her things, her movements languid and deliberate, enjoying the show she had put on for her all day.

"Ready to go?" Emily asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Y/N nodded, her voice a little raspy. "More than ready."

The elevator ride to the garage was agonizingly slow, every second stretching into an eternity of anticipation. Y/N could feel the heat radiating from Emily's body, and she had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her, to kiss her right there in the confined space. But she knew that patience would be rewarded.

As they drove through the city, the tension between them grew, the air thick with unspoken need. Y/N couldn't stop staring at Emily's legs, the way the fabric of her skirt rode up her thighs, the way the heels made her seem so powerful, so irresistible.

Finally, they arrived at Emily's brownstone, and the moment they got through the door, Y/N was on her, kissing her fiercely. Emily's arms wound around Y/N, pulling her closer, her tongue dancing with Y/N's in a passionate dance of desire. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as Y/N's hands roamed over Emily's body, her fingertips tracing the lines of her hips, her waist, her breasts.

They stumbled into the living room, their breathing heavy, the sound of their heels clacking against the hardwood floor. Y/N managed to unbutton Emily's blouse, sliding it off her shoulders to reveal the creamy skin beneath. She took a moment to admire the view, her eyes feasting on the swells of Emily's breasts, full cleavage pushed up by the lace of her bra. Her hands moved to the clasp, deftly unhooking it, and the garment fell away, revealing Emily's breasts in all their glory.

She pushed Emily gently but firmly onto the couch, and before Emily could even register what was happening, Y/N was kneeling before her, eyes locked on Emily's panties. The skirt had ridden up in the scuffle, and Y/N took her time, savoring the moment, her eyes devouring the sight of Emily's legs, the way the muscles tensed and released as she positioned herself. The fabric of the panties was damp with anticipation, and Y/N felt her own desire spike at the sight.

With trembling hands, she hooked her thumbs into the delicate lace and began to pull them down, inch by agonizing inch. Emily's legs quivered slightly, but she remained still, letting Y/N set the pace. The scent of her arousal filled the room, and Y/N felt her own mouth water. She could see the shadow of Emily's wetness through the fabric, and it was all she could do to not rip the panties off and dive in.

But she held back, savoring the moment, the tension building like a crescendo. Finally, the panties were gone, and Y/N was faced with the beauty of Emily's exposed pussy. She took a moment to admire the sight, the plump folds, the glistening wetness, the way Emily's legs opened for her like a welcome embrace.

Without another word, she placed Emily's legs over her shoulders, the heels of her shoes digging into Y/N's back, adding to the thrill. The height difference between them was even more pronounced now, and Y/N felt a surge of arousal at the power play it created. She leaned in, her nose brushing against the soft flesh, and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with Emily's scent. It was intoxicating, like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Her tongue flicked out, teasing at the entrance to Emily's pussy, and Emily gasped, her body arching off the couch. Y/N watched as the pleasure washed over Emily's face, pupils dilating with need. She felt like she could drown in those dark depths, but she had more important things to do. With a growl of desire, she buried her face in Emily's cunt, her tongue lapping and swirling, eager to taste every inch of her.

Emily's hands found Y/N's hair, gripping tightly as she guided her rhythm, her hips moving in time with Y/N's mouth. "God, you're so good at this," she moaned, her voice filled with praise. "Your tongue… it's like magic."

Y/N's response was muffled by the flesh she was feasting on, but the vibration of her moan against Emily's pussy spoke volumes. She was lost in the moment, her own need taking a backseat to the pleasure she was giving her lover. She felt Emily's legs tense around her shoulders, her muscles tightening as she approached climax. Y/N's tongue grew more insistent, her strokes more deliberate, until Emily's body began to shake with the force of her orgasm.

The heels digging into her back were a delicious discomfort that only served to heighten her arousal. Each dig was a silent command, a demand for more, and Y/N was more than happy to oblige. She slid two fingers into Emily's tight heat, her tongue circling the swollen nub of her clit, pushing her to another orgasm. Emily's hips bucked, her cries echoing through the room.

Y/N felt the first tremors of Emily's second climax, the muscles of her pussy tightening around her fingers, and she knew it was almost there. She watched, transfixed by the beauty of Emily's face, contorted with pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut. The way her chest heaved with every ragged breath, the way her full lips parted to let out a guttural moan that seemed to resonate through Y/N's very soul.

As Emily came, Y/N felt her own body respond, her clit throbbing in time with the pulsing of her lover's cunt. She could feel just how wet she was between her own legs, her panties soaked with her desire. She kissed her way up Emily's body, savoring the taste of her sweat and arousal, her hands never leaving the firm grip on those delicious thighs.

When Emily had recovered enough to catch her breath, she looked down at Y/N with a fiery gaze that sent a new wave of heat through her. Without a word, she grasped Y/N's wrists and pulled her to her feet, her grip firm and commanding. Y/N went willingly, her body alight with anticipation as Emily led her into the bedroom, those heels clicking against the floor with each step.

Emily's hands were deft as they worked to remove the last of Y/N's clothing, her own clothes joining the growing pile on the floor. Y/N couldn't help but watch, mesmerized by the way Emily moved, the confidence and grace that she exuded even in the most intimate of moments. When they were both naked, Emily reached into the drawer of her nightstand, pulling out a black leather harness and a sleek, silicone dildo that matched the darkness of her eyes.

Her movements were deliberate as she attached the dildo to the harness, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. Each snap of the buckles, each adjustment of the straps was a silent declaration of intent, a promise of the pleasure to come. Y/N felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine as Emily stepped into the harness, her body fitting it like a second skin. The way the leather hugged her curves, the way the dildo jutted out from her hips… it was like watching a goddess arm herself for battle.

Emily took a step closer, and Y/N could feel the heat from her body, the power in her presence. She knew what was coming, and she craved it with every fiber of her being. Then, without warning, Emily's hand was in her hair, gripping it near the root. Y/N gasped as she was forced to her knees, her eyes level with the strap-on that was now the centre of her universe.

"Get it ready for me," Emily ordered, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N obeyed without question, her eyes locked on the tip of the dildo as it approached her mouth. The anticipation was almost unbearable, her heart pounding in her chest. She parted her lips, her tongue flicking out to taste the cool silicone. Emily's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her closer, and Y/N moaned in pleasure as the dildo pressed against her mouth. She took it in, her tongue swirling around the tip.

The sensation was intoxicating, the taste of silicone and the faint scent of Emily's arousal mingling together. She took it deeper, feeling it hit the back of her throat, her eyes watering slightly as she adjusted to the girth. Emily's hand in her hair was firm, but gentle, a silent promise of more to come. Y/N's own need grew with every inch that filled her mouth, the ache between her legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

Looking up from her position on her knees, she basked in how hot Emily looked, the power she radiated, and Y/N was more than happy to let Emily take the lead. The way the light from the bedside lamp glinted off the leather, the way her lover's eyes bore into hers with a fiery hunger, it was all too much. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, a heady mix of love and lust that made her feel alive.

Emily took a step back, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. With a swift movement, she pulled Y/N to her feet by her hair, the strap-on slapping against her thigh. "Bed," she said, her voice low and demanding. Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She stumbled backward, the need to have Emily inside her so intense it was almost painful.

When they reached the bed, Emily bent Y/N over it, her hands gripping her hips firmly. Y/N braced herself against the mattress, her breath coming in short gasps. She felt the tip of the strap-on nudge against her wetness, and she pushed back eagerly, needing more. Emily's grip tightened, her nails digging into Y/N's skin just enough to sting, but not enough to break it. The pain was a delicious contrast to the pleasure, and it only served to make Y/N wetter.

Emily took her time, savouring the moment, the anticipation building like a crescendo in the air. She pressed the tip of the dildo against Y/N's entrance, and then, with agonizing slowness, she began to sink in. Y/N felt herself stretch around the silicone, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable. She whimpered, her body begging for more, but Emily was in no hurry. She took her sweet time, inch by glorious inch, her movements deliberate and precise.

As she reached the hilt, Emily leaned down, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "So good," she murmured, her voice filled with approval. "You're so wet for me."

Y/N's cheeks flushed with arousal as she felt Emily's praise wash over her like a warm wave. She pushed back, silently begging for more, and Emily chuckled, her grip tightening. "Patience," she whispered, her voice a dark promise. "We've got all night."

Emily began to move, her hips rolling in a smooth, slow rhythm that had Y/N's knees trembling. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through Y/N's body, her muscles clenching around the dildo, eager for more. She could feel Emily's breath on her neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as she whispered sweet nothings into her ear. "You're so beautiful like this," Emily murmured, her voice thick with lust. "So open, so eager."

Y/N's own hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles white as she pushed back to meet Emily's every movement. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their harsh breaths and the occasional gasp or moan. It was a symphony of desire, a dance that they had perfected over countless nights together.

The pleasure grew within her, a slow burn that started in her core and spread outward like wildfire. It was a delicious agony, a feeling that made her toes curl and her vision swim. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, her body begging for release. Emily's strokes grew deeper, faster, each one hitting that perfect spot that had Y/N seeing stars. Her orgasm was building, coiling tighter and tighter, a storm gathering on the horizon.

Every touch, every whispered word from Emily's lips, every sensation of the strap-on filling her up was magnified by the hours of teasing she had endured. The way Emily had moved throughout the day, those heels that had taunted her with every step, had created a crescendo of need that was now reaching its peak. Y/N felt like she was going to shatter, like she couldn't possibly hold on much longer.

But Emily knew just how to keep her there, on the edge. She reached around, her hand finding Y/N's clit, and began to circle it with her thumb. The touch was feather-light, barely there, but it was enough to send sparks shooting through Y/N's body. She moaned, her hips bucking back to meet the steady rhythm of the dildo.

The pressure grew, the storm within her threatening to break. Emily's thumb grew more insistent, her strokes more deliberate, and Y/N could feel the orgasm building, like a crescendo that was about to overwhelm her. Her muscles tightened, her body a coil of pure need, and she knew she was close.

With a final, desperate push, Y/N felt the dam break, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. Emily's thrusts didn't slow, didn't falter, instead, they grew stronger, drawing out every ounce of pleasure Y/N could take. She screamed, her voice raw with passion, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her eyes squeezed shut, her body arching as Emily continued to fuck her through it, her movements unyielding.

As the intensity of the orgasm began to ebb, Y/N went limp, her legs giving out. Emily withdrew the strap-on from her still tingling pussy, the slick sound of wetness echoing through the room. Y/N's body quivered with aftershocks, her breathing ragged and erratic. She felt the cool air hit her overheated skin, the sensation of the wetness trailing down her thighs and dripping onto the hardwood floor beneath her.

Emily's touch was gentle as she guided Y/N up and into the bed, her hands firm but caring as she helped her lover to lay down. Y/N's legs felt like jelly, but she managed to crawl up the mattress.

With a sultry smile, Emily stepped out of the harness, her heels clicking once more as she moved to the edge of the bed. She kicked them off, one by one, the sound echoing through the room like a promise of aftercare.

Her movements were fluid as she walked to the en-suite bathroom, her naked body a testament to the power she held over Y/N. She returned with a warm, damp cloth, she watched her lover's face as she gently wiped away the sweat and the evidence of their passion. The tender strokes against Y/N's sensitive skin sent shivers through her body, a gentle reminder of the fiery passion that had just consumed them.

Emily's eyes searched Y/N's face, checking for any signs of discomfort or need, but all she saw was a sated smile and eyes that still gleamed with desire. Satisfied, she moved down Y/N's body, her touch feather-light as she cleaned her up. The cloth glided over her breasts, her stomach, and finally between her legs, and Y/N's breath hitched at the intimate contact. The feeling of being cared for like this, soothed and pampered after such intense passion, was almost as erotic as the act itself.

With a gentle kiss to Y/N's inner thigh, Emily stood and walked to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the air, and when she returned, she had two glasses in hand. The condensation on the outside was cold against Y/N's skin as Emily handed one to her, their fingers brushing together in a silent promise of more to come.

Y/N took a long sip of the water, the coolness soothing her parched throat. Emily mirrored her, drinking deeply before setting her glass aside. She climbed onto the bed, her movements graceful despite the exhaustion that painted her features. She slid in next to Y/N, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

They cuddled, their limbs tangling, the occasional kisses peppering the air between them like sweet whispers of a secret language only they knew. The scent of their combined arousal lingered, a musky perfume that wrapped around them like a warm blanket. Emily's hand found its way to Y/N's waist, her thumb tracing lazy circles on the sensitive skin. Y/N's own hand rested on Emily's hip, the heat of her palm seeping into the firm muscle beneath.

Their breathing grew deep and even, the room bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight that spilled through the curtains. The world outside ceased to exist as their bodies slowly cooled, the pulses of their desire giving way to the gentle lull of exhaustion. The tension of the day, the flirtatious dance of power and passion, all of it faded into the background as they found solace in each other's arms. Y/N felt herself drifting, her eyes growing heavy with the weight of sleep. She knew that she could spend hours in this position, exploring every inch of Emily's body with her fingertips, but her body had other plans.

As the last of the tension drained from her muscles, she felt Emily's hand tighten around her waist, pulling her closer. A soft kiss brushed against her forehead, a silent declaration of affection. The warmth of Emily's breath against her skin was the last thing she felt before she slipped into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

[the-kr8tor]

Co-worker AU Masterlist

Navigation

Hobie Brown Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms or fed to any AI software*

*photos are from pinterest*

💌 >> request

Part 1 — Two Slow Dancers

Part 2 — Do I wanna know?

Part 3 — The Less I Know the Better

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[lewkwoodnco]

Masterlist

All works written in third person fem!reader

➳ timeless ♡✧✿ 900 w 🖋️

you see your relationship with lockwood reflected in an antiques’ shop and realise you might be more than friends

➳ cruel summer (part 1, part 2) ♡✧✿ 3.2k

you agonise over the push and pull between you and lockwood as you navigate ordinary cases and the Fittes ball together

➳ august (tsitp version) ✶ 1.3k 🖋️💙

haunted by a Changer’s terrible prophecy, you make the difficult decision to leave Lockwood & Co.

➳ the alcott ✶✿ 1.8k 🖋️

after having left Lockwood & Co., lockwood finds you at an old haunt and persuades you to return by mending the rift between you two. can be read as a sequel to august (tsitp version)

➳ I Can See Youᶻ♡✧✿☆ 5.9k 💌

(enemies to lovers, Fittes!reader) as a rival agent at Fittes, you loathe the smug bastard that is anthony lockwood. or love him. one of the two.

➳ and I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind✶ 6.3k

after getting laid off from Fittes, you struggle to find another job and struggle even more with accepting lockwood’s affection. can be read as a sequel to I Can See You

➳ You Belong With Me ♡✧✿ 2.4k 💌

you stumble along in your relationship with lockwood until he realises no one else is going to feel like home the way you do

➳ False God ✶✿ 4k 💌💙

the tension bubbling between you and lockwood finally pushes you to a breaking point as you leave Lockwood & Co., but someone helps you find your way back home

➳ Question…? ✶✿ 4.8k 💌

you deeply resent your ex-employer after a miscommunication on why he fired you, but the both of you can’t help but terribly miss the other

➳ Dressᶻ✧✿ 3.5k 💌

after a spur of the moment kiss when you nearly die on a case, you and Lockwood struggle with staying content as friends

➳ You Are In Love ♡✧✿ 2.4k 💌

bit by bit, you realise your love for lockwood over the course of a case

➳ Gold Rush ♡✧✿ 2.8k 💌

(friends to lovers) you find your employer utterly deplorable, but can’t help being drawn in by his wayward ways

➳ Safe and Sound ✶✿ 2k 💌

(hurt/comfort) you help Lockwood through a nightmare

➳ get him BACK! ♡✧✿ 5.4k 💙

(slight enemies to lovers, Fittes!reader) you hated Lockwood for being such an aggravating personality, and now you hate him even more for proving you wrong

➳ London Boy ♡✿ 3.1k 💌

(european!reader) anthony lockwood finds his newest employee’s accent terribly adorable

➳ How You Get the Girl ✶✿ 4.8k 💌💙

an unresolved fight with lockwood pushes you to leave Lockwood & Co., as you’re convinced he’d be better off with lucy, but he doesn’t give up on you

➳ Invisible String ♡✿ 5.4k 💌

(neighbour!reader, estranged friends to lovers) as an old friend, you start becoming more involved in lockwood’s life again with the arrival of lucy carlyle

➳ only love can hurt like this ✶✿ 4.7k 💌💙

your boyfriend risks his neck for you one too many times. loving anthony lockwood was anything but easy

➳ buy me presents! ♡☆ 2.6k ❄️💙

[jealous!lockwood, gift giving (lockwood’s version)] spending christmas alone at Portland Row is terribly boring, so you decide to tease your somewhat possessive employer

➳ I got options, babe ♡✧✿ 2.6k ❄️❣️

(sequel to buy me presents!) it’s a Portland Row Christmas ft. slightly jealous reader

➳ tis the damn season ✶ 5.1k ❄️💙

after going away to boarding school, you visit lockwood for the first time in years but he doesn’t seem ready to forgive you

➳ I take you like you do your tea, with lemon and with honey ♡✧ 720 w 🖋️💙

(first person!reader) it is both a blessing and a curse to love so deeply

➳ Falling For You ♡✿☆ 2.6k ❣️

it’s Valentine’s Day, love is in the air, and you make a dangerous bet with lockwood over who was a better connoisseur of pick-up lines

➳ so american! ♡✿ 3.3k 💙

(american!reader, domestic sweetness) lockwood tries to teach you how to drive in a day in the life of Portland Row’s most nauseating couple

➳ but daddy, I love him! ♡✧✿ 3.8k

(socialite!reader) bored out of your skull with your lavish lifestyle, the psychical investigators your father hired provide a welcome change of pace

➳ you look like shit ♡✧☆  1.5k 🖋️

one time you told lockwood he looked like shit and four times he told you you looked like shit

➳ loveSICK ♡✧ 2.3k 

you don’t know what it is you’re coming down with, but you do know it’s Anthony Lockwood’s fault, the bastard.

➳ late nights ♡✧ 800 w 🖋️💙

you fall asleep while waiting for Lockwood to return from a case.

➳ Sneaking Around ♡ 1.6k 🖋️

you and lockwood are in a secret relationship, but unfortunately for both of you, lockwood isn't very good at sneaking around. three times lockwood almost gave it away and the one time you finally did.

➳ guardian angel ♡✶ 3.8k

as a Visitor lingering in 35 Portland Row, you can’t help but worry over Lockwood and his reckless ways.

➳ no one's ever had me (not like you) ♡☆ 2.1k

a day in the life of dating lockwood

➳ june gloom ✧ 1.6k

(can be read as a stand-alone of with the 1989 tv vault series) if lockwood's truly moved on, what's he doing at your house?

➳ panic attack ✶✿ 1.9k🖋️ 💌

set after the altercation at Winkman's - you help lockwood through a panic attack

1989 TV Vault Series (In Progress)

➳ “Slut!”ᶻ ♡✶✿☆ 5.4k

as an up-and-coming agent regularly torn to shreds by malicious tabloids, you decide that you’re better off alone. That is, until you meet anthony lockwood

➳ Say Don’t Go ✶☆ 3.8k

after your apartment gets flooded, you accept lockwood’s invitation to temporarily move into Portland Row, but through unfortunate unforseen circumstances you end up moving out of his life permanently

➳ Now That We Don’t Talk ✧ 3.1k

you try to piece together how lockwood is doing through the gossip rags you once so desperately detested and reflect on how your life has soured without him around to buoy your spirits

➳ love to think you’ll never forget ✶2.5k 

blurb set after the phone call with lucy in the previous chapter where you ruminate over bittersweet memories and struggle with feelings of inadequacy

➳ Wildest Dreams ♡✧✿ 3.3k 💌

(Fittes!reader) you make an unlikely companion after investigating a certain pilfering boy

➳ After Hours ♡✧✿☆ 2.7k 💌

(librarian!reader) you occasionally bend the rules for a researcher you may have a soft spot for

➳ Be More ♡☆ 2.8k

after a mix-up of dates, you spend Valentine’s Day baking with George

➳ the tortured poets departmentᶻ ✶✿ 3.7k 

(Fittes!reader) as you start to lose touch with George once he leaves Fittes, you make one last-ditch attempt to reconnect with him after Lucy & Lockwood’s wedding 

➳ Northern Attitude ✶✿ 2.1k 💙

Lucy struggles with a disconnect from Lockwood, who helps her through it

➳ I take you like you do your tea, with lemon and with honey ♡✧ 720 w 🖋️💙

(first person!reader) it is both a blessing and a curse to love so deeply

♡ - fluff

✧ - mild angst

✶ - angst

ᶻ - mild smut

✿ - happy ending

🖋️ - drabble (under 2k)

☆ - popular

💌 - requested

💙 - my favourites

[mazywrites]

lockwood and co

masterlist (as of 30/10/24)

anthony lockwood

additions and donuts

what i’m here for

better this way

a favour

george karim

nothing yet! requests open!

quill kipps

nothing yet! requests open!

[icarusignite]

Master Post

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hey, Ace here, hope you have a good time on my page!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ (she/her), Ravenclaw, INTJ, fanfic writer of many fandoms, self-taught artist, kpop/anime enthusiast, feminist, procrastinator extraordinaire.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Tiktok/wattpad/AO3/instagram: ace_asterisk

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ AO3 | Wattpad | Carrd

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Fandoms I write for

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ All completed series and longer stories are uploaded fully on wp/ao3. Oneshots are Tumblr/AO3 exclusive.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ for writing updates: @icarusignite-fics

(all fics are reblogged onto there)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ DMs and asks are always open! Drop by and chat <3

DC

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys (Jason Todd x Reader) Parts: 1 | 2

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You’re on Your Own, Kid (Bruce Wayne x Reader) Parts: 1 | 2

Ateez

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Pirate Ateez Masterlist

House of the Dragon

Series

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ An Eye for an Eye Masterlist (Aemond Targaryen x OC)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Before the Sky Falls Masterlist (Aemond Targaryen x OC)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ For Whom the Bell Tolls | HOTD World War 2 AU

(Soldier! Aemond Targaryen x Nurse! Reader)

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I hate you I love you (Cregan Stark x Fem! Reader)

The five times you told Cregan Stark you hated him, and the one time you actually meant it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I want to fly with you on dragonback (and eat only cake) (Alicent x Rhaenyra)

Basically the title. Rhaenyra finally gets to take Alicent on that dragon ride and eat cake....and maybe kiss the girl she loves.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Like an old melody, my heart resumes (Daeron x Fem! Reader)

Parts: 1 / 2  / 3

After years apart and with several misunderstandings between them, you meet Prince Daeron at what is meant to be his betrothal feast. When secrets and unspoken desires come to light, you and Daeron are faced with a choice: to let go of the past and embrace a love that has always burned between them or allow your tumultuous history to keep you apart.

The Last Kingdom

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you

(King Alfred x POC! Fem! Reader)

Parts: 1 / 2

You are a prominent scholar from Baghdad, visiting Wessex to learn more about English culture and try to help its ailing monarch with your medical expertise. However, conflict arises when you find yourself falling for the Catholic king, knowing he cannot give you what you deserve.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Valhalla Bound  (Finan x GN! Reader)

During the ransacking of Rumcofa, you save Osferth thus exchanging his fate for yours. aka you die and Finan's reaction to that

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Night Terrors (Sihtric x GN! Reader) 

Sihtric has a nightmare, and he accidentally snaps at you. What comes after is the most awkward confession of his life and you are oblivious af.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Praying's just a poor man's way of begging 

(Sihtric x Fem! Reader) 

You are Earl Ragnar's youngest daughter and the boy you've spent many pleasant afternoons with as a child was none other than Sihtric Kjartansson. Reunited after years apart, will the two of you be able to face the truth of your feelings or will it all end in heartache?

In this labyrinth of time, our souls entwined

(Modern AU Finan x Fem! Reader)

Finan and his friends witness a bar fight during their night out and Finan feels a magnetic connection to the hero of the fight. This can be read on its own but it can also be seen as a continuation of my earlier fic Valhalla Bound where you died and now your reincarnation meets Finan's in another world and that's why you seem so familiar.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Go ahead and cry, little girl (Aethelstan x Fem! Reader)

You are Sihtric’s daughter from his first wife. Your mother dies after he leaves her for his current wife and you blame him for his death. Aethelstan is yoiur dearest childhood friend.

Percy Jackson & the Olympians

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I don't want your sympathy (i just want myself back)

(Luke Castellan x GN! Child of Hypnos Reader)

Terribly injured after returning from his quest to the Garden of Hesperides, Luke Castellan turns to the only person who can help him sleep.

Criminal Minds

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Steady Your Heart in Mine (Spencer Reid x GN! Reader)

Exam season brings you a lot of stress and Spencer Reid is there to walk you through it. Established relationship, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks.

Lockwood & Co.

Oneshots

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I thought I dreamed her (Lucy x Lockkwood)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I love you forever, I'm not a dreamer (Lucy x Lockwood)

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes:

Series

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ These Violent Delights Masterlist

[octaviasdread]

Dead Poet Date Hc's

Anderperry - Chased by Walt Whiskers

When Todd's publisher demands that he use social media, his manager, Ginny, couldn't have envisioned this.

Accidental sweater thirst traps aside, it's Walt Whiskers driving Todd's media engagement. It's Walt Whiskers who guest stars at his poetry readings, and it's Walt Whiskers who Ginny hires a social media manager for.

Who knew his anxiety aid could be such a traitor?

Because when Todd meets Neil his life goes to shit.

Working in media had, of course, given Todd the expectation that his cat's manager would be attractive. Todd can work with attractive. He can ignore attractive, usually.

But nothing about Neil is normal. He's tall, extroverted, and a Shakespearean actor to boot.

He's not arrogant, gym-obsessed, or suppressing the temper of a stage mom. Neil is a regular guy so in love with his poorly paid job that he decimates his sleep schedule and runs ragged to pay his rent by managing the city's theatre socials.

So Ginny, like any good friend, ropes Neil in before her boss at Todd’s publishing house even finishes the call.

Unfortunately, Todd is a homebody. He is a poet with a Wikipedia page branding him a 'recluse,' and the thing about influencers is they have to exist outside.

Ginny compromises at first. Every shoot is scheduled in darkened, private spaces.

Todd watches each time as Neil's brows raise in perfect, incredulous arcs. He doesn't comment. Instead, Neil hoists Walt onto one of his ridiculously high hips and takes a walk to 'check the light.'

Todd's lungs expand.

To Neil's credit, he tries. Todd finds indoor photoshoots awkward enough as he poses with his lacklustre smile, torn notebooks, and Walt Whiskers perching irritably on his lap.

The outdoor shoots are worse.

"Poetry is supposed to stir you up!" Neil's voice projects through Central Park as he gesticulates wildly. "You look as stirred up as a cesspool."

"I'm not like you."

"Don't you think you could be? People listen to your words, Todd. Now let them meet you."

"I thought you were here for Walt."

Neil rolls his eyes, "you are Walt, dummy. Come on, let's break for coffee."

So they order drinks and commiserate through quotes, exchanging words from Tennessee Williams and Kafka until Todd is comfortable enough to allude to his own.

And when Todd isn't looking, Neil gets the Instagram reel. It's the perfect shot of Walt Whiskers wearing Neil's glasses as he slowly blinks at Todd quoting from his supposedly 'aesthetic,' ink-stained notebook.

With a trendy sound bite, the post explodes.

Todd's latest book flies off the shelves. So naturally, Ginny hauls them into her office to talk strategy.

Strategy, in Ginny's world, translates to valentine date.

"It's logic," Ginny dismisses. Tinny music pours from the speakers as the Hudson River Company keeps her cell phone on hold. "Your latest collection is called, Tides of Love, Todd. I'd be an idiot not to set up a romantic dinner cruise for PR.”

"I'm not sitting there with my cat." Todd turns and appeals to Neil for help. "Tell her what people will think."

Neil opens his mouth, but Ginny cuts him off.

"No." She shoots a firm look at them both. "I know for a fact that neither of you have valentines plans. Take the cat together and secure us a bestseller."

They take the cat.

Todd spends all night pulling at his tux. Walt has no such reservations with his mini paw-printed bowtie. Instead, the damn cat has every waitress sneaking chicken under the perfectly pressed tablecloth.

If he were a better pet owner, Todd would've noticed. In a better world, Todd would've stuck to the no-chicken diet Walt's vet prescribed. But in this world, his cat's manager is wearing a tux.

Neil could be a Hollywood star sitting there under candlelight. With the wine in his head and the river waves in his stomach, Todd wants to take Tides of Love and write it anew.

But he doesn't.

Todd pokes at his Michelin star meal. It may be pathetic, but valentines are valentines no matter how fake.

He crumples a napkin and drops it over the camera lens.

There are no witnesses when Neil pets Walt, his long, delicate fingers brushing Todd's own. Nobody shares how they linger, how they curve, almost taking Todd's hand to hold.

And when Neil makes a determined and tipsy climb up the deck, Todd doesn't turn, doesn't direct his stare away. He finds himself laughing and scrambling to race against Neil's impossibly long legs. With a fire inside, Todd snatches up the lookout post, throwing drunken taunts out in his wake.

With flushed cheeks and Walt warm in his arms, Todd isn't a tentative poet or a hermit half in early retirement. He's Jack flying high through the clouds. He's bold and he's reckless in his dreams, and in his love for a Shakespearean Rose.

Like every ship, Cupid's Arrow sweeps Todd happily into the deep.

It's only with his hangover the inevitable sinking begins. His iceberg is the size of date night floating up his fyp with over 20,000 hits.

A heart-shaped button has never cut so deep.

But with engagement comes sales and not one, but two, NY Times bestsellers, so the poet and media manager keep taking Walt on contracted dates.

Cafes roll into museums, picnic dates, and late-night Broadway shoots.

Walt poses while Neil charms and draws Todd closer and closer into their extroverted orbit.

By April, Todd's poems hang from the walls backstage at Circle in the Square. He walks between frames correcting and composing while Walt scurries beneath seats, and sniffs for wet food pouches stashed under stacks of Neil's scripts.

It's a routine, Todd tells himself. It's enrichment to exercise Walt. It's his typewriter stored as a video prop amongst the leafy crowns and Yorick skulls at home in Neil's dressing room.

It's this home the poet follows, each purr and smile like catnip until he finds himself curling up during rehearsals behind painted, woodland sets. His poems layer across the orchestra, snatches of Neil's soliloquy, and the beat of paws on wood as Todd opens his words and world to TikTok Live.

With these unique readings come sponsors, and with sponsors come trips.

As spring creeps in, Ginny packs them off on a brand deal supplying a '57 Chevrolet Corvette for the road Coney Island.

They shoot Walt in the driver's seat like a city-dwelling Grace Kelly in sunglasses and a scarf. In a second snap, Neil lounges on the red bonnet in a line of Times Square traffic, and Todd is blurrily backlit by Battery Tunnel in a final car shot, the winning polaroid cover for his upcoming collection, Epigraphs for Nostalgia.

The road to true love has never felt so smooth.

Todd knows it can’t last, but he clings to this day straight from the brand’s vintage guide to teenage dates.

Roll after roll fills with charmingly juvenile snaps.

They wave from Deno’s Wonder Wheel. Product placement smears Coney Cone's ice cream over Walt's nose, while Neil and Todd squabble over film and notebook sheets which fly loose to scatter like snow on the boardwalk.

"I told you," Neil whoops, "those dead drafts want to fly!"

Chastened by staff, but thrilled with the candid, self-timer snaps, the poet and media manager take one more shot.

"Come on," Todd grumbles, wrestling Walt into an admittedly dingy photo booth. "You can't take care of yourself."

Walt meows in protest. But the curtain falls and traps both man and cat as Neil slides onto the bench.

Flash. Walt pressed nose to nose with Todd. Flash. Todd squawks while Neil howls at the ice cream Walt smears on Todd's nose. Flash. Walt leaps and Neil dives into Todd's lap in an effort to catch the escaping cat. Ding!

Pink hearts float in bubble letters like cotton candy across the screen: Kisscam Count.

Descending digits blink in and out.

Three.

The poet freezes. His cat's media manager glances up, his body still sprawled across the poet's lap.

Two.

Neil inhales.

One.

The final lines of Epigraph for Nostalgia linger on the seam of Todd's lips.

“Carpe Diem," he mutters.

There's a flicker.

An image appears of an Instagram crashing kiss.

[kestisvrse]

› navigate: KESTISVRSE: anthony lockwood

one shots!

no surprises (gn, 0.6k)

late night hugs and reassurance.

bad for business (gn, 1.4k)

the three times you found yourself fake dating anthony lockwood.

scars (gn, 0.9k)

you find a bloody and bruised lockwood in the kitchen late at night. [tw: panic attack mention]

stealing kisses (gn, 0.5k)

christmas at lockwood and co gives anthony the perfect opportunity to make a move.

sugar (gn, 0.7k)

dancing in the rain with lockwood.

a trip around the sun (gn, request, 3k)

your relationship with anthony lockwood. or love languages with anthony lockwood.

[gayandfairycore]

Finished fics ੈ✩‧₊˚

Authors favourite: 🌷

Smut: 🍓

Fluff: 🌞

Angst: 🌛

Fem reader: ✨

Male reader: 🪽

Fandoms I no longer write for: 🍂

Warning: please check my request terms before requesting as I no longer write for some fandoms, and I no longer write male reader fics, any previous requests you have sent may be slow to release!

Masterlist

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Lockwood and co:

Marmalade and mischievous mornings🌞🌷✨

Thin walls 🍓🌞✨

Titanic:

Jack dawson x reader🌞✨🍓🌷

Bbc Merlin:

Merlin x reader 🍓🌞✨

Merlin x reader 🍓🌞✨

Morgana x reader 🍓🌞✨

Morgana x Merlins sibling reader pt 1 🌛🌞✨

Pt 2 🌛✨

Just hold me 🌛🌞✨🌷

The prince, the magician, and the physician 🌞🌛🌷

Teen wolf:

Stiles stilinski:

Movie night 🌞🌛✨

Scott McCall:

Movie night 🌞🌛✨

Wednesday:

The albatross 🌛✨🌷

My babysitters a vampire:

Ethan Morgan x male reader 🌛🌞🪽

Narnia:

Narnia headcanons 🌞🌛🪽

ೃ⁀➷ fics/fandoms I don’t write for anymore ⁀➷

Xo kitty:

Do you see right through me 🌞🌛🌷✨

Outer banks:

Distraction 🌛✨

The middle:🍂

Axl heck x reader 🌞✨

Love and monsters: 🍂

Joel dawson x reader 🌛🌞✨

Supernatural:🍂

The green necklace 🌛🌞✨

Tfw x reader 🌛🌞✨

Fear street: 🍂

Sacrifice Simon kalivoda x reader 🌛✨

Marauders: 🍂

James potter x reader

Nothing is as clear as the clarity of death 🌛✨

[desos-records]

Masterlist (Ao3)

*in progress

Rated [G] unless otherwise specified

The Hidden Archive (L&Co)*

-

(Jason Todd)

Blood Stained Glass

[T] Catharsis

Peach Tea

Written in Skin, Not in Stone

-

Melancolia (Hades Game)

-

Missing in Action (Marvel)

[badathumanemotions]

Elle Takes a Break

Elle Greenaway x Spencer Reid MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Dubious Consent, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Riding, Hand Job, Cum on Tits, Co-Workers, Quickie, Vaginal Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones. WC: 3,874 Elle takes a break from work and uses Spencer to do it. (Not Proof Read)

Elle Greenaway sat at her desk, the room's muted lights casting a soft glow on her tired eyes. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, typing up the final details of the case report. She took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. It had been a long day, but she was almost done.

A faint sound caught her attention. She looked up to see Spencer Reid, his tie askew, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he studied a file. He glanced up, noticing her gaze, and offered a small smile. The brief connection between them was innocent, but it sent a jolt of something unidentifiable through her. She looked away, focusing on her work again.

Elle's thoughts drifted to the frustration that had been building inside her for weeks. The case they were working on had been intense, leaving little time for personal comfort. She felt a restlessness in her core, a need for something more than the cold embrace of her empty bed at night. Her eyes flicked back to Spencer, who was now engrossed in his work, oblivious to her inner turmoil.

Her gaze lingered on the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his hair fell slightly over his forehead. He was so focused, so...unattainable. That was part of the allure, she admitted to herself. The challenge of breaking through his intellectual barriers and reaching the man beneath. But tonight, she didn't want a challenge. She wanted a release.

Without conscious thought, she pushed her chair back and stood up, stretching her legs. She walked over to Spencer, the soft carpet muffling her footsteps. He looked up again, raising an eyebrow in question. She leaned over his desk, her breasts brushing against his arm. "I need a break," she murmured, her voice low and husky.

Spencer blinked, clearly surprised by her proximity. The air between them grew thick with tension, and she could see his eyes widen slightly behind his glasses. He swallowed hard, setting his pen down. "Elle..." he began, but she didn't let him finish. She leaned in closer, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder, her fingers digging in slightly.

"Come with me," she said, her voice still low and sultry. She didn't wait for his response before turning and walking out of the room, the sway of her hips a silent invitation. She knew he was watching her. Knew he was torn between his surprise and the sudden, unmistakable desire that had flared in his eyes.

Spencer stood there for a moment, his heart racing. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew he didn't want it to stop. He gathered his things, his mind racing as he followed her out of the office. The hallways were empty, the quiet hum of the night outside muffled by the thick walls.

Elle led him to a small, unused office at the end of the hall. She didn't bother with the lights, letting the moon's glow through the window provide the only illumination. The room was sparse, with nothing but a desk and a couple of chairs, but it was private. She closed the door behind them with a soft click, and the sound echoed in the small space.

Spencer felt his heart pound in his chest as he followed her, trying to process what was happening. He'd always found her attractive, but their relationship had been strictly professional. He had never expected this. She turned to face him, her eyes dark with need. Without a word, she reached up and pulled his glasses off, setting them aside. Then, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him closer, her mouth crushing against his.

The kiss was fierce, demanding. Her tongue swept into his mouth, and she tasted like mint and the faint trace of coffee. Spencer's arms wrapped around her, his hands sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. He'd never felt anything like this before, a mix of shock and pure, carnivorous desire. He knew he should be questioning this, but his body had taken over, and he didn't want to fight it.

Elle broke away, her breathing ragged. She stepped back, her eyes never leaving his. She began to unbutton her shirt, her movements deliberate, almost aggressive. Spencer watched, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her. He reached out, his hands shaking slightly, and helped her finish the task. The shirt fell to the floor, revealing her lace bra that barely contained her breasts.

He reached out, cupping one in his hand, feeling the weight of it, the heat of her skin. She gasped, arching into his touch. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and it tightened under his touch. He felt his own desire growing, pressing against the fabric of his pants. He wanted her, more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

With a swift motion, she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts spilled out, perfect and round, the nipples pebbled with desire. Spencer leaned down, capturing one in his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. Elle's hands gripped his hair, holding him close as she moaned. She was in charge here, and he was more than happy to follow her lead.

Her hands found their way to his belt, deftly unbuckling it. She tugged his pants down, her eyes never leaving his. His erection sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around it, stroking him firmly. Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes closing momentarily as pleasure shot through him. He knew he was close to losing control, but he didn't want to rush this.

Elle stepped back, her own breathing heavy. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, and with a sinuous motion, slid them down her legs. The fabric whispered against her skin, revealing the dampness of her thong. Spencer's gaze followed the path of her body, his eyes lingering on the triangle of fabric that barely concealed her arousal. She stepped out of her jeans, kicking them aside, and then reached for the strings of her thong.

With a slow, deliberate pull, she slid the thong down, her hips swaying slightly. The fabric caught on her ankle for a moment before it too joined the pile of discarded clothing. She was naked before him now, her skin bathed in the silvery moonlight that filtered through the blinds. Spencer's eyes roamed over her, taking in every curve and line. She was beautiful, more so than he had ever allowed himself to acknowledge. The desire to touch her, to claim her, was overwhelming.

Elle stepped closer, pressing her body against his. He could feel her heat, the dampness between her legs. She reached down and took his hand, guiding it to her core. He gasped as his fingers encountered her wetness, slipping easily inside her. She was ready for him, more than ready. Her hips rocked against his hand, setting a rhythm that was both urgent and needy.

Spencer's own arousal was painfully obvious, his cock straining against his boxers. She reached down and tugged them off, his erection springing free. She took it in her hand, stroking him with the same confidence she had shown in stripping herself.

With a sudden surge of dominance, she pushed him backward, his thighs colliding with the edge of the desk. He stumbled slightly, but she was already there, guiding him to sit down. Then, with a grace that belied her urgency, she straddled him, her wetness sliding against his shaft. Spencer's eyes went wide, his mind racing with the reality of what was happening.

Elle took a moment to appreciate the power she had over him, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts brushing against his chest. She could feel his pulse hammering beneath her palms, a silent testament to his need. Then, with a smirk that spoke of pure mischief, she reached down and positioned him at her entrance. She hovered there, just for a moment, watching the anticipation play across his face.

With a sudden, urgent movement, she sank down onto him, enveloping him in her heat. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned, the sensation of her tightness around him overwhelming. She began to move, setting a pace that was fast and demanding. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, her wetness coating him as she chased her own pleasure.

In the back of his mind, Spencer wondered how he had ended up here. How had they crossed this line? But the thrill of the forbidden, the risk of getting caught, only added to the intoxicating rush of sensations. He had never felt so alive, so alive and so...used. It was a heady feeling, one that sent shivers down his spine.

Elle's movements grew more erratic, her breaths coming in short gasps. Her nails dug into his skin as she rode him, her eyes closed, lost in the throes of passion. Spencer could feel his own climax building, his body straining to keep up with her demanding pace. But she didn't seem to care about his pleasure. This was all about her, and the realization was both humiliating and exhilarating.

He watched as her breasts bounced with every thrust, her hardened nipples standing proudly. Her head was thrown back, her hair a wild mess around her face, and her moans filled the small room. Spencer's hands found her hips, trying to guide her, to bring her closer for his own release, but she slapped them away, maintaining her dominance.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice strained.

Elle smirked, her eyes still closed. "Keep talking," she encouraged, her hips grinding against him in a way that made him feel like he was losing control.

Spencer's eyes searched her face, trying to read the emotions playing out across her features. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from their kisses. He could see the sweat glisten on her skin, the way her pupils had dilated with lust. "Elle, you're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raw with need.

Elle's eyes snapped open, and she glared at him, a feral look crossing her face. "I don't want to hear that," she snapped, her voice sharp. "This isn't about feelings. This is just...this." She didn't elaborate, but her meaning was clear. She didn't want emotions to complicate what they were doing. She wanted him as a means to an end, a tool to satisfy her desires.

Spencer felt a flicker of disappointment, but he quickly pushed it aside. He didn't need emotions to enjoy this, did he? He could take what she was giving him, even if it was just physical. He leaned back, watching as she continued to ride him, her body moving with a rhythm that spoke of desperation. Her breasts bobbed with each movement, her skin glistening with sweat. He knew he should be more in control, should be the one dictating the pace, but she had taken charge so effortlessly that he found himself content to let her.

Her eyes remained closed, her face a mask of concentration. Spencer studied her, the way her cheeks hollowed as she took in sharp breaths, the way her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she grew closer to her peak. He could feel her tightening around him, her muscles clenching as she approached climax. He swallowed hard, his own need building rapidly.

With a sudden, decisive move, Elle reached down between their bodies and began to stroke her clit with rapid, firm circles. Spencer's eyes widened slightly as he felt her tighten even more around him. It was a revelation, watching her pleasure herself so unabashedly.

Her hand moved with a focused intensity, her eyes still squeezed shut as she chased her own orgasm. The sight of her was mesmerizing, her body moving in a symphony of need and desire. Spencer felt his own climax building, his hips bucking up to meet hers as she rode him.

Elle's breath grew shallower, her movements more erratic. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, she came hard and fast, her body seizing around him. Her eyes flew open, locking onto his, and he could see the surprise, the raw pleasure reflected in their depths. She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as the waves of pleasure washed over her.

Spencer watched, his own climax on the precipice. The sight of her, so uninhibited, so lost in the moment, was intoxicating. He felt his body respond, his hips jerking upward as he tried to keep up with her frantic pace. She was using him, using his body to satisfy her own desires, and he was powerless to resist.

Her hand remained between them, her movements feverish as she brought herself to the brink again. Spencer's muscles tensed, his own orgasm hovering just out of reach. He could feel the heat building in his balls, the pressure that signalled his impending release.

But as she reached her peak again, she abruptly stopped her stroking, her eyes snapping open to meet his. "Not inside me," she ordered, her voice a harsh whisper. She slammed her hand down on his chest, pushing him back onto the desk. He was so close, the need to come overwhelming, but he obeyed, his cock slipping out of her with a wet sound.

Panting, she leaned forward, her hand wrapping around his shaft. She began to stroke him rapidly, her eyes never leaving his. "You're going to come on my tits," she said, her voice filled with an authority that brooked no argument. Spencer nodded, his eyes glazed with passion. He watched as she leaned back, her breasts bouncing slightly as she positioned herself.

Her movements grew more erratic, her strokes faster, harder. Spencer could feel the tension building, the pressure in his balls growing unbearable. He knew he was close, so close, but he couldn't find the release he craved. His hips thrust upward, trying to push himself into her hand, but she held firm, keeping him at bay.

"Please, Elle," he begged, his voice strained.

Elle smirked, enjoying the power she held over him. She could feel the desperation in his voice, the way his body was begging for release. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin. "Do it," she whispered, her hand moving faster, her grip tightening.

Spencer's eyes widened, his body straining. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled groan, he erupted, his cum spurting onto her chest, her breasts slick with his release. She continued to stroke him, milking every last drop, watching with a sense of satisfaction as his body trembled beneath her.

Finally, she let go, and he collapsed back onto the desk, panting. She sat back on her heels, her chest heaving, a smug smile playing on her lips. Spencer lay there, trying to catch his breath, his mind racing with the intensity of what had just occurred.

Elle reached for the tissues on the desk, tearing off a few and using them to clean herself up. She moved with a purposeful grace, not bothering to be shy. Spencer watched her, his eyes still glazed with lust as she took care of herself. He felt a strange mix of emotions – awe, gratitude, and something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

As she finished wiping the semen off her chest, she turned to him and said, "Get dressed." The words were simple, but they carried the weight of a command. He nodded, his body moving almost of its own accord as he complied. His hands shook slightly as he buttoned his shirt, his mind racing with the implications of what they had just done.

Elle watched him, her expression unreadable. She bent down to retrieve her bra and panties, sliding them on with a practised ease that spoke of countless similar encounters. Spencer felt a pang of something that might have been jealousy, but he pushed it aside. This wasn't about him, not really. It was about her needs, and he had been the one to satisfy them.

"We good?" she asked, her voice a question that had more layers than he could begin to unravel. Spencer nodded, still trying to catch his breath. The question hung in the air, thick with meaning. It could have been a simple inquiry about his comfort or a declaration of the status of their relationship, which had just been forever altered. He couldn't be sure which she meant, and the ambiguity was maddening.

Spencer sat up, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the last few minutes. The intensity of their encounter had left him reeling, and he found it hard to believe that she was so casually dressed again, as if nothing had happened. He stumbled through the motions of pulling his pants up, his shirt still unbuttoned.

"It's nothing personal, Reid," Elle said, her voice cold and detached as she bent to adjust her own clothes. "It's just...sometimes you need to blow off steam."

Spencer nodded, his mind racing. He knew she was right. This was just a physical release, a way to deal with the tension that came with their line of work. It didn't mean anything more than that, despite the part of him that hoped it might. He didn't dare voice those thoughts, though. This was her show, and he was just along for the ride.

Elle stood up, her movements fluid and graceful despite the urgency of their encounter. She stepped closer to him, her eyes still dark with desire. Without a word, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was as intense as it was brief. It was a declaration of ownership, a silent thank you for the pleasure she had taken from him.

As she pulled away, she whispered, "You're welcome," the words a teasing reminder of the power she held. Spencer's chest heaved, his heart racing as he stared up at her, his shirt still open, his pants still around his ankles. She turned away, her hips swaying slightly as she walked towards the door. He watched her go, unable to tear his gaze away from the curve of her back, the way her hair glowed in the moonlight.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Spencer remained frozen for a second, just staring at the space she had once occupied. The room felt colder without her, the air thick with the scent of their passion. He let out a shaky breath, his mind racing with the implications of what they had done.

Then, a sudden noise from the hallway startled him back to reality. He jolted, his heart racing as he scrambled to pull his pants up. He couldn't let anyone catch him like this, not in this compromising position. His shirt hung open, revealing his flushed chest, and his pants were a tangled mess around his ankles.

He could hear someone coming, their footsteps echoing down the hall. Spencer's eyes darted to the door, his mind racing. He had to get dressed, had to get out of here before anyone saw them. Panic set in, and he stumbled as he tried to stand, knocking over one of the chairs in the process. The sound was loud in the quiet room, and he cringed, waiting for the inevitable knock on the door.

But it didn't come. The footsteps grew closer, and he managed to get his pants up and his shirt buttoned just as the handle began to turn. His heart was in his throat, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. The door swung open, and in the dim light of the hallway, he saw Anderson, a look of mild concern on his face.

"Reid, you okay in here?"

Spencer's eyes snapped to the doorway, where Anderson stood, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. He had never been so grateful for the dim lighting in the unused office, which hopefully obscured his flushed cheeks and dishevelled appearance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Spencer managed to croak out, his voice sounding anything but steady. He cleared his throat and tried again, his heart still pounding in his chest. "I just... caught my foot on the chair." He gestured awkwardly to the toppled chair beside him, hoping that the lie was convincing enough. "Clumsy me."

Anderson's gaze flicked from Spencer to the chair and back again, his expression still a puzzled frown. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, taking a step into the room. "You look a bit... flustered."

Spencer nodded quickly, a little too eagerly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice still not quite steady. He forced a laugh, trying to play it off. "Just clumsy, as usual." He took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. "I guess I've had one too many cups of coffee today."

Anderson's frown deepened, but he didn't push the issue. "Alright, if you're sure," he said, his eyes lingering on Spencer for a moment longer than necessary.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Spencer let out a sigh of relief so deep it felt like it came from his very soul. The adrenaline rush of almost being caught was almost as intense as the sexual release he had just experienced. He slumped back against the desk, his legs still shaking. The excitement was still coursing through him, a potent mix of fear and arousal that made his stomach churn. He had never felt anything like this before, and the thought of it happening again sent a thrill through him.

Gathering his wits, he took a moment to straighten his shirt and tuck it back into his pants. He didn't dare look in the mirror; he knew his face would be a giveaway. Instead, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

The bullpen was dark, most of the team having called it a night. The only light came from the flickering screens of the computers that never truly slept. Spencer made his way back to his desk, trying to keep his pace casual, as if he hadn't just been thoroughly used by his colleague.

Elle was already there, her eyes on her paperwork, her expression unreadable. Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she looked up and their eyes met. The smirk that curled her lips was the same one that had sent him spiralling into a vortex of desire just moments before.

"Thanks for the... break," she said, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down his spine. He nodded, unable to find his voice, and she winked at him, the gesture so subtle that it was almost imperceptible. But Spencer felt it like a brand, searing into his very soul. He ducked his head, his cheeks flushing a deep red as he quickly turned back to his work. Elle chuckled to herself, the sound low and intimate, as she refocused on the files in front of her.

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 3) Chapter Fifteen

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: Romantic Break-In

Summary: Sherlock has his case right where he wants it, and it, of course, goes wrong.

            (Y/N) and Sherlock sat in the back of a cab as it took them towards CAM Global News.

            “Are you alright?” asked Sherlock.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “What?”

            “Magnussen brought up Moriarty,” said Sherlock. “I should have known he would and kept you away.” I should have kept you safe.

            “Magnussen knows everyone’s pressure points. That includes mine,” said (Y/N). “It’s better for me to deal with them head on.” They looked away from the window to fully face Sherlock. “I can’t keep letting Moriarty affect me.”

            Sherlock smiled. “Sometimes I think you’re smarter than. Or at least wiser.”

            (Y/N) straightened at the praise and allowed themself a smile. “One day I will be.”

            “I hope so.” Sherlock wanted nothing more than for (Y/N) to succeed and become an even greater detective than him.

            The cab stopped in front of CAM Global News, and the pair disembarked. John was already there, pacing outside of the building.

            “Good, you’re here,” said Sherlock, walking past and into the office.

            It was empty inside, no staff since it was so late. They approached the security barriers and looked at the scanner that needed an ID card to get through.

            “Magnussen’s office is on the top floor, just below his private flat,” said Sherlock. “But there are fourteen levels of security between us and him, two of which aren’t even legal in this country. Want to know how we’re going to break in?”

            “Is that what we’re doing?” asked John.

            “Obviously,” said (Y/N).

            Sherlock led them towards a side elevator. “Magnussen’s private lift. It goes straight to his penthouse and office. Only he uses it, and only his keycard calls the lift. Anyone else even tries, security is automatically informed.” He pulled a keycard out of his pocket. “Standard keycard for the building. Nicked it yesterday. Only gets us as far as the canteen.” He paused at the scanner. “If I was to use this card on that lift now, what happens?”

            “Alarms go off, and you’d be dragged away by security,” said (Y/N).

            “Exactly,” said Sherlock.

            “Get taken to a room somewhere and your head kicked in,” said John.

            Sherlock blinked. “Do we really need so much color?”

            “It passes the time,” remarked John.

            Sherlock pressed the keycard to his phone. “But if I do this…if you press a keycard against your mobile phone for long enough, it corrupts the magnetic strip. The card stops working. It’s a common problem—never put your keycard with your phone. What happens if I use your card now?”

            “It still doesn’t work,” said John.

            “But it doesn’t read as the wrong card. It’s corrupted,” said (Y/N). “So security is more unsure coming over since it could be Magnussen. I don’t think they’d risk dragging him off.”

            “Probably not,” said John.

            “So what do they do? What do they have to do?” said Sherlock.

            “Check if it’s him,” said (Y/N).

            Sherlock nodded. “There’s a camera at eye-level to the right of the door. A live picture of the card user is relayed directly to Magnussen’s personal staff in his office—the only people trusted to make a positive ID. At this hour, it’s almost certainly his PA.”

            Janine comes in helpful.

            “So how’s that help us?” asked John.

            “Human error,” said Sherlock.

            “Sentimentality,” said (Y/N).

            “I’ve been shopping,” said Sherlock. “I’d suggest you both move to the side.”

            John and (Y/N) moved away from the camera.

            “Here we go,” said Sherlock, swiping the card.

            “You do realize you look nothing like Magnussen,” said John.

            “It would be bad if he did,” said (Y/N).

            “What?” said John, but (Y/N) shushed him.

            “Sherlock, you complete loon!” exclaimed a familiar voice.

            John looked at (Y/N), startled. They looked completely unsurprised (of course not).

            “What are you doing?!” said Janine.

            “Hi, Janine. Go on, let me in,” said Sherlock, putting on a bright smile.

            “I can’t! You know I can’t, don’t be silly,” said Janine, but she was smiling.

            “Don’t make me do it out here. Not in front of everyone,” said Sherlock.

            “Do what in front of everyone?” asked Janine.

            Sherlock knelt down and pulled out a velvet box from his coat. John sucked in a breath, and (Y/N) clicked their tongue. Sherlock opened the box to reveal a ring within. A proposal.

            Janine squealed in excitement and instantly pressed the button to open the lift. The microphone switched off.

            Sherlock looked over at John and (Y/N) as they stepped onto the elevator.

            “You see? As long as there’s people, there’s a weak spot,” said Sherlock.

            “That was Janine,” said John, still bewildered.

            “Yes, of course it was Janine,” said Sherlock. “She’s Magnussen’s PA. That’s whole point.”

            “Did you just get engaged to break into an office?” asked John.

            “It’s as good a reason as any,” said (Y/N).

            “Was all of that a trick?” said John.

            “Of course,” said Sherlock. “Janine’s not my type.”

            “You proposed to her, Sherlock! This will be devastating!” said John.

            “They weren’t dating long. It’s weirder that she’s okay with this,” replied (Y/N).

            “You’re both insane,” said John.

            “Lady Blackwood came to us a while back about her blackmail problem,” said (Y/N). “Sherlock considered going undercover, but then Janine happened along at the wedding.”

            “She was clearly interested in me, so it was the perfect opportunity,” said Sherlock.

            “Sherlock, you lied to her. You played with her heart,” said John.

            “She works for Magnussen. She’s his PA. She might not be a criminal, but she’s a terrible person if she goes along with his terrible personality,” said (Y/N).

            “Besides, I’ll tell her the truth,” said Sherlock.

            “The truth?” said John, aghast.

            “Yes, that our entire relationship was a ruse to break into her boss’s offices. I imagine she’ll want to stop seeing me at that point,” said Sherlock.

            “This still cruel,” muttered John, ever the good-hearted man.

            “She was rude to (Y/N),” said Sherlock matter-of-factly.

            Aha, thought John. Sherlock’s protectiveness brought out his meaner side.

            The doors of the lift opened, and the group walked out. There was no sign of Janine at the desk.

            Sherlock frowned. “That’s a bit rude. I just proposed to her.”

            John carefully walked farther into the room and noticed something in the hallway. “Sherlock, (Y/N)!” he said in alarm, walking over and kneeling.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow in confusion and tilted their head. Janine’s body lay unconscious on the floor. Instantly, they were on alert. Something was going on here.

            “Did she faint? Do they really do that?” asked Sherlock curiously. “Mary didn’t faint when you proposed, did she?”

            “It’s a blow to the head,” said John. “She’s still breathing.”

            (Y/N) took a step forward and peeked into the nearby offices. “There’s another one here.” They glanced at the badge. “Security.”

            “Stay back,” said Sherlock, stepping inside to examine the body. He wouldn’t let (Y/N) walk in if there was still danger.

            “Does he need help?” asked John.

            Sherlock examined the body. “Unconscious.” He glanced the tattoos and tsked in disgust. “Ex-con. White supremacist, by the tattoos, so who cares? Stick with Janine.”

            He stood and felt the chair seat. He nodded, and (Y/N) understood. The chair was warm. Someone was still there.

            “Whoever did this must still be here,” whispered John urgently.

            “So’s Magnussen,” said Sherlock. “His seat’s still warm. He should be at dinner, but he’s still in the building…upstairs!”

            (Y/N) cocked their head. What if it was someone else, like whoever knocked out Janine and the bodyguard?

            John took out his phone. “We should call the police,” he whispered.

            “Don’t get us arrested,” said (Y/N).

            “No, wait, ssh,” said Sherlock. The other two paused. He sniffed the air. “Perfume—not Janine’s. Claire-de-la-lune. Why do I know that?”

            “Mary wears it,” said John, and (Y/N) nodded in confirmation.

            “No, not Mary. Someone else,” said Sherlock, but (Y/N) was confused by the look in his eyes. He started up the stairs. John moved to follow, but Sherlock shook his head. “No, let me go first,” he said. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, come look for me.” He disappeared upstairs.

            “Right, (Y/N), let’s make sure no one else is hurt—” John watched as (Y/N) ran up after Sherlock. John groaned, but he had no choice but to keep looking for injured people. He was a doctor. Besides, Sherlock was with (Y/N). They’d be alright.

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            (Y/N) ran up beside Sherlock, and his eyes widened as he saw them. He shook his head and gestured for them to go back downstairs, and (Y/N) shook their head. Sherlock gave them the father look to listen, and (Y/N) gave him the equally determined rebellious-kid look. Sherlock gave up and let them creep closer to an office door with him.

            “Coming here? What would your husband think?” said Magnussen’s voice. “He’s…your husband. Your lovely husband.” He was manipulating whoever was inside.

            (Y/N) could smell the perfume now. They had a feeling they knew who it was within with that scent and Magnussen’s comments. It was too specific, and Janine’s presence at the wedding…it all made sense.

            Unfortunately, thought (Y/N).

            “What would he say to you now?” said Magnussen.

            Sherlock and (Y/N) peered through the crack in the door and saw him on his knees with his hands in the air.

            The sound of a gun cocking split the air.

            “You’re doing this to protect him from the truth?” said Magnussen, trying to get his attacker to stop.

            Sherlock pushed open the door and walked in, keeping (Y/N) behind him. He knew they weren’t staying outside, even with the danger.

            “What is this obsession here with honest?” said Magnussen, buying himself as much time as he could.

            Sherlock spoke up. “Additionally, if you’re going to commit murder, you might consider changing your perfume, Lady Smallwood.”

            Oh, yeah, she had it too. But… (Y/N) had a terrible feeling the other option was just as viable.

            “That’s not Lady Smallwood, Mr. Holmes,” said Magnussen. He glanced at (Y/N). “It seems Mx. Moriarty has figured it out.”

            Indeed, (Y/N)’s eyes were trained on the attacker knowingly. “Don’t call me that while there’s a gun in the room,” said (Y/N) coldly. Magnussen wisely didn’t say another word.

            The attacker turned around. Mary Watson trained her gun on Sherlock’s chest. Every deduction, everything that (Y/N) and Sherlock knew about Mary, flooded through them, and suddenly everything they knew and had noticed fit into place. The knowledge of ciphers, memory, no fear of violence or danger, the lack of long-time connections…everything made sense.

            (Y/N) banished the deductions away. They stared at the muzzle worriedly. They couldn’t let their dad get hurt. That was what mattered—not Mary’s lies.

            “Is John with you?” she demanded.

            “He’s downstairs,” said Sherlock, mind racing for ways to keep (Y/N) safe.

            “So…what do you do now?” said Magnussen slowly. “Kill all three of us?”

            “Mary, whatever he has on you, let us help,” said (Y/N). “Don’t let him win.”

            Mary’s eyes flicked to (Y/N). She didn’t want to hurt the teenager, but the situation was dire for her as well. She gripped the gun tightly and kept herself strong. As Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. “Sherlock, if you take one more step, I swear I will kill you.”

            Not my dad, not my dad, thought (Y/N) wildly, eyes widening.

            “No, Mrs. Watson. You won’t,” said Sherlock confidently. He could see the aim of her gun. He stepped forward.

            (Y/N) couldn’t let him take the risk.

            Bang!

            Sherlock stumbled as the gun went off. Mary’s eyes widened. (Y/N) groaned.

            Their hands went to their stomach. Sherlock whirled on them from where they had shoved him.

            “(Y/N),” he breathed in complete terror.

            (Y/N) pulled their hands away from their torso. Red stained their hands. Blood.

            “Oh,” said (Y/N).

            They swayed and fell backwards. Sherlock scrambled to their side and caught them. He didn’t give a damn as Mary made her escape.

            “(Y/N)? (Y/N), stay awake,” said Sherlock.

            (Y/N) blinked, and the world spun. “Dad…”

            “I’m here,” said Sherlock. “You have to stay awake.”

            “Sorry…” said (Y/N) as darkness crowded in on their vision. “I did it…wrong.”

            “(Y/N)?” called Sherlock as (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered. “(Y/N). Come on, stay with me.” (Y/N)’s eyes closed. “Stay with me. I love you.” Sherlock held (Y/N) tightly as they fell unconscious. “Come on. I love you. You need to stay alive.”

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