#This is going to get like intensely detailed so be warned.

[reallychaoticwoo]

Can you do a reaction to An atiny accidentally flashing ATEEZ her thong or something at some point because their clothing rose up or fell

⛓️Of course! I wasn't really sure how to fully go about this, so hopefully, it's still good, haha! Thank you for the suggestion!⛓️

✨️ Thong Song ✨️

❤️Pairing: Ateez x reader (individually)

⚠️Warnings: cussing, suggestiveness, light smut MDNI 18! ONLY

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way‼️

🖤Hope you enjoy!🖤

HONGJOONG

He'd spotted your thong during Bouncy. As you were dancing in the crowd your shirt had rode up and made the black lace visible. He eyed in intensely thinking about how he'd get you alone after the concert was over. Luckily for you, he'd made it extremely obvious to yourself that he was interested with intense and frequent eye contact. By the end of the set he was looking you up an down with a smirk, mouthing to 'stay right there' as they asked everyone to clear out. You ended up in his dressing room that night screaming louder than you ever have before.

SEONGHWA

You'd worn a beautiful black corset with intricate patterns woven into the fabric. It didn't take very long for Seonghwa to spot you in the crowd. And when you bent over to pick up your Seonghwa picket you'd dropped and he saw your bare ass with those tiny lace panties he knew you'd come here just for him and there was no way he was leaving without taking such a perfect gift. During Halazia when you mimicked his eye roll, he was struggling the rest of the concert not to pull you on stage and take you right then and there. After the concert you'd spend the next two days in his hotel room in pure bliss, your name long forgotten.

YUNHO

He'd spotted your pretty light blue thong from a mile away. It's not like you were trying to hide it with such low cut jeans. The fact that it looked so perfect on your skin as you danced to every single song that night had him swallowing harshly and taking more sips of his water than usual. His mind wondering if the fabric was stimulating you as you danced. Hed find out later just how wet you'd been all night noticing how he looked at you. By time he finally got to see those panties for himself they were soaked and he had every intention to keep you drenched for the rest of the night.

YEOSANG

He saw you walk in immediately taken by how stunning you were. Finding out quickly that he was your bias as you wearing his merch, his baseball jersey. But when you bent over in your white skirt and all you were wearing under was a thong he knew he just had to have you. Finding you after the concert wasn't hard as he'd told security to have you stay put until he could come back out. You stayed in his room that night as you were unable to make it to the hallway after he'd had his way with you.

SAN

You had been dancing aggressively, singing, and screaming at the top of your but when he saw your thong peak out during Crazy form he knew he'd be making you go just a little bit crazy later. The way your shirt rode up while dancing had you eventually tucking it into your bra. Your thong and belly chain now on full display the rest of the concert as your baggy shorts were low rise. At the end of the concert San bent down near by you and let you know he'd be seeing you later. Walking out to the parking lot San grabbed you by the waste and asked if you'd like to be his for the night.

MINGI

You went all out on your outfit, thong leather bikini with chaps and a matching denim vest. There was no way he was keeping his eyes of you and when he spotted the subtle detail on your bikini top saying 'fixon' it was almost impossible to contain himself. His breaking point was when they were doing Bouncy and outside of the normal choreo you were shaking your ass having a great time. He needed to see that on him right now. He settled for after the concert tho, deciding to take you back to any empty room available in the venue and watch that ass bounce off of him.

WOOYOUNG

You'd been eyeballing him all night, a smirk across your face growing wide every time you caught him looking back. He was definitely interested, not often someone comes onto him as strongly as he comes on to his fellow members. You'd decided to up your game, first subtly pulling down your shirt to expose your shoulder. When you saw that caught his attention the next break they had to talk with the fans you were tucking your shirt up into your bra adjusting your thong to sit above your hips before lowering your shirt back down. He'd had it. After the concert, he took you to his hotel room, and yall had the craziest, kinkiest, switchiest sex you've ever had.

JONGHO

You tried your best to make it insanely obvious who your bias was decked out in all brown. A cute white button-up with a brown cardigan and matching skirt, white socks, and black chunky heeled shoes. Your hair had two fuzzy brown ear clips holding up your piggy tails. There was no way Jongho wasn't going to notice you. He had smiled at you a few times, even waving one time, which made you blush. When you turned around and bent over to pick up something someone had dropped, he caught a glimpse of your thong. Usually a very tame man, he broke all his rules that night when he took you to his room and proceeded to devour you for hours.

[writeriguess]

Love and deepspace sylus x female reader where she teases him, and things get heated, they end up fucking on his desk.

You’d been teasing Sylus all day, testing the limits of his patience in that way you knew drove him wild. From subtle touches when you passed by his desk to playful smirks when you caught his eye, you knew exactly how to unravel him. You could see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the barely-restrained frustration simmering behind those cold, calculating eyes. Every stolen glance promised retribution, and part of you craved it—wanted to see him lose that perfect control.

He sat at his desk now, fingers tapping impatiently at the controls, eyes focused ahead on the holographic displays detailing his latest strategy. The soft hum of the ship provided a steady backdrop, but all you could focus on was the way he clenched his jaw when you leaned over his shoulder, just close enough for your breath to brush against his ear.

“You’ve been staring at those numbers for hours,” you said, voice laced with a faux innocence. “Need any help? Maybe a distraction?”

His response was nothing more than a grunt, but the way his grip tightened on the edge of the desk betrayed him. You smirked, moving closer, letting your fingers trail lightly down his arm, feeling the tension coil beneath his skin.

“Or maybe you’d rather me… stop?” The suggestion was teasing, and you knew he wouldn’t take it lightly. Not after how you’d been toying with him, slowly unraveling the composure that made him so dangerous.

He didn’t answer. Not immediately. His eyes remained forward, locked on the screen, though you could tell he wasn’t focused on the data anymore. His body was too tense, too aware of you standing so close behind him.

A surge of heat coursed through you, emboldened by his silence. You leaned in further, pressing your chest lightly against his back as your hands slid up his shoulders, nails grazing the fabric of his uniform before slipping to the nape of his neck.

“Nothing to say, Sylus?” you whispered into his ear, voice dropping an octave as you felt him stiffen beneath your touch. “I thought you always had a plan.”

There was a moment of pure, electrified stillness before he moved. With swift, controlled power, Sylus stood and turned, forcing you back a step as he towered over you. His eyes were darker now, a molten heat swirling in them that made your pulse quicken. He didn’t say a word, just stared down at you like a predator assessing its prey.

Your heart pounded in anticipation, but you weren’t going to give in that easily. You met his gaze head-on, a slow smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head, silently daring him to make the next move.

And he did.

In one quick motion, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward him until your bodies collided. His mouth crashed against yours, fierce and demanding, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t wait another second. The kiss was raw, filled with the pent-up tension you’d been teasing out of him all day.

You moaned into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you against the edge of the desk. His other hand slid down to your waist, gripping tightly, possessively, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of letting you go now that he had you. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, biting and sucking with an almost bruising intensity.

You gasped, feeling the heat in your core intensify as his hands roamed lower, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward. You broke the kiss long enough for him to strip it from you, and then his mouth was on you again, hot and relentless as he kissed down your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“I warned you,” he growled against your skin, voice thick with restrained desire. “You push too far, you’ll get burned.”

You didn’t care. You wanted this—wanted him to lose control. “Then burn me.”

That was all it took. Sylus let out a low, primal sound before he lifted you effortlessly, sitting you on the edge of the desk. His hands were everywhere, exploring, claiming, as if he was making sure you knew exactly who was in control now.

His lips were back on yours, rough and hungry, as his fingers slid under your waistband. He made quick work of your pants, tugging them down and tossing them aside without a second thought. The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver through you, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs apart.

Your breath hitched as he stood between them, his body pressing against yours. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of intent as his hand slid up the inside of your thigh, brushing teasingly close to where you wanted him most.

“You’ve been driving me insane all day,” he muttered, fingers just barely grazing you, enough to make you tremble with need. “Now it’s my turn.”

Before you could respond, his fingers dipped between your folds, stroking with agonizing precision. A moan tore from your throat as he found your clit, circling it with a practiced rhythm that made your legs quiver. His touch was skilled, deliberate, dragging out your pleasure until you were breathless, clutching at his shoulders for support.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured against your ear, voice low and taunting. “To have me like this?”

You could barely think, let alone answer, as his fingers sped up, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. All you could do was nod, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built inside you, threatening to spill over.

But just as you were about to fall, he stopped.

You let out a frustrated whimper, hips bucking against his hand, but he held you still, his grip firm. “Not yet,” he said, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he watched your desperation with dark amusement.

Then he was pulling away, only long enough to undo the fastenings of his pants, the metallic clink of his belt sending another wave of heat through you. He wasted no time, positioning himself between your legs, his cock hard and heavy as he lined up against your entrance.

Your heart pounded in anticipation as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, silently begging for more. And finally, he gave in, thrusting into you with one powerful stroke that made you cry out in pleasure.

Sylus groaned, low and rough, as he filled you completely, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he set a punishing rhythm. Each thrust was hard and fast, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room as he fucked you against the desk.

It was rough and raw, every bit of tension and frustration poured into each movement as he took you, over and over, until all you could do was hold on, moaning his name as he drove you higher and higher.

His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit again, and this time, he didn’t stop. The pressure was too much, the pleasure too intense, and within seconds, you were falling apart, crying out his name as the orgasm tore through you.

He wasn’t far behind, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release, finally spilling inside you with a deep, guttural groan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the harsh, uneven breathing of the two of you, still tangled together, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Sylus slowly pulled out, but he didn’t move away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, but there was a satisfied smirk on his lips. “You’re insufferable.”

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning up to kiss him softly, the tenderness a stark contrast to what had just happened. “Maybe. But you love it.”

His response was a low chuckle, but there was something softer in his eyes now, a glimmer of affection beneath the heat. "You’re lucky I do."

And as you sat there, tangled together on his desk, the rest of the galaxy faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet aftermath of your own chaos.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[pedroscowgirl]

Breaking the silence

Aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

part one is here

Warnings: smut minors DNI

p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral!f receiving, riding him, a bit angsty? (conflicted between spence and hotch), power dynamics (he's your boss)

lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: After much contemplation, you’ve finally made a decision about who you truly want to be with. Although traces of guilt still linger in your mind regarding your choice, Aaron has a unique ability to ease those feelings. wc: 7.4k

A/n: I'm so down bad for this man yall... also I didn't proofread this yet

The briefing room felt colder than usual, the soft murmur of voices blending into the background. The case details flashed on the screen, a series of abductions that led us to a small town in the Midwest. Normally, you’d be fully focused on the profile, mentally piecing together the unsub’s next move, but today, your mind was elsewhere.

Hotch was standing at the head of the table, his posture as controlled and rigid as ever. His deep voice filled the room as he outlined our next steps, but your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. The way his jaw tensed when he was deep in thought, how his eyes would flicker toward me for just a second before shifting back to the case… It was impossible to ignore what had happened between us.

That night in the office—when the line between boss and agent blurred—kept replaying in your mind. The feel of his hands on you, the raw intensity in his touch, the way his control finally cracked. And now? Now it was like we were strangers again.

“Everyone clear on the plan?” Hotch’s voice cut through the haze in your head.

You blinked, realizing the rest of the team was already standing up, ready to move. “Yes, sir,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your files and standing.

As we filed out of the room, you could feel Hotch’s gaze linger on you, even if only for a split second. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, but neither of you had dared to acknowledge what had happened. Not at work. Not anywhere.

The case had you working late into the night. Morgan and Rossi were canvassing witnesses, while Reid was piecing together the behavioral patterns of the unsub. You were stationed with Hotch, going over surveillance footage from the surrounding areas, but being alone with him felt like a trap.

You hadn’t talked since that night. There hadn’t been time, or maybe you’d both been avoiding it. But the tension was there, unrelenting.

“We’re missing something,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him as you stared at the grainy footage on the screen.

Hotch remained silent beside you, but you could feel the weight of his presence. His stoic demeanor had always been a source of strength for the team, but now, it felt suffocating.

“You should get some rest,” he finally said, his voice low, though it carried that same authoritative edge.

you shook your head. “I’m fine.”

His gaze flickered to you, something unreadable in his dark eyes. “You’ve been distracted,” he said softly, his tone not accusing, but concerned.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. He wasn’t wrong. You had been distracted, but not by the case. “I’m good, Hotch,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you actually felt.

But then, his hand was on yours, a brief, barely-there touch that sent a jolt through your entire body. You glanced up at him, and for the first time since that night, his composed mask cracked just slightly.

“I didn’t mean for things to… get complicated,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a tension that mirrored your own.

you took a breath, steadying yourself. “Neither did I.”

For a long moment, we just stood there, the soft hum of the surveillance equipment the only sound in the room. His fingers curled slightly, brushing against your hand again, and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said, but the words lacked conviction. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and intense. “But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

you felt your heart race, the memory of his lips on yours, the feel of his body pressed against you, rushing back with overwhelming clarity. “Neither can I,” you whispered, the admission slipping out before you could stop it.

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into his professional shell. But instead, he took a step closer, closing the small distance between you. His hand slid from yours, moving to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“I can’t afford to be distracted,” he murmured, his voice tight with restraint. “Not here. Not now.”

You nodded, though your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch despite the warning. “I know.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t stop the pull between you two. There was something about Hotch, something about the way he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and yet still found moments like this, moments where he could let someone in. And now that you’d seen that side of him, you weren’t sure you could let it go.

Before you could think better of it, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his hand. “We’ll figure this out,” you said softly, echoing the words he’d said to you that night.

For a second, his eyes softened, and you could see the vulnerability there, the part of him that so few people ever got to see. But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened again, the walls slamming back into place.

“We have to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He dropped his hand from your face, stepping back and putting the distance between you again. The moment was gone, the heat dissipating as quickly as it had ignited. But you knew, just as he did, that nothing between us would ever be the same.

The team gathered for a debriefing the next day, the tension from the case still hanging in the air. But beneath that, there was something else, a tension that existed only between Hotch and you. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the task at hand, but you could feel him watching you, just as you watched him.

Spencer noticed your silence, giving me a concerned look, but you brushed him off, unwilling to explain the mess you found yourself in. After all, how could you? How could you explain that you were torn between two worlds, the professional and the personal, and that the man at the center of it all was someone you weren’t supposed to feel this way about?

But as the day wore on, and the weight of the case dragged you deeper into its complexities, you realized something: no matter how hard I tried to bury your feelings, they weren’t going anywhere.

And neither, it seemed, was Aaron Hotchner.

------------

The flight back from the case felt longer than usual. The team was asleep, no surprise, given the weight of the case we had just wrapped. Except for Spencer. Normally, you would have struck up a conversation with him by now, engaging him in one of his countless facts or theories. But today, the silence between you was heavy.

He sat next to you on the jet, his fingers fidgeting with a deck of cards, absentmindedly shuffling them. You could feel him glancing at you, his hazel eyes filled with questions. You hadn’t talked about your feelings. Not properly. And now, with the growing complexity between Hotch and you, you felt even more tangled up inside.

"You’ve been quiet," Spencer said softly, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

you shifted in your seat, trying to force a smile. "Just tired," you replied, though it was a poor excuse. The truth was that you didn’t know how to explain the emotional storm raging inside of you.

Spencer wasn’t fooled. He’s a profiler after all. "Is it because of Hotch?"

His question caught you off guard. you blinked, turning to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. How much did he know? How much had he noticed?

"What do you mean?" you asked, keeping your tone neutral.

Spencer’s gaze was steady, though there was a softness to it. "I saw how he looked at you. During the debriefing, before we left for the case… There’s something between you two, isn’t there?"

The air between you thickened with the weight of his words. I couldn’t deny it. Not anymore. You had spent days trying to push it aside, trying to compartmentalize the emotions you felt for Hotch, but Spencer was right. There was something between Hotch and you. Something you hadn’t fully understood until that moment.

But how could you explain that to Spencer—the man who had been nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you? The man whose kiss had felt like safety, like home, even as your mind was spinning with confusion about Hotch.

"Spence, I…" you hesitated, searching for the right words. His eyes were so sincere, so trusting, and you hated the thought of hurting him. "It’s complicated."

He gave you a small, sad smile, his fingers still fidgeting with the cards. "I figured. I mean, it’s Hotch. He’s… well, he’s him."

you let out a breath, grateful for Spencer’s understanding but also pained by it. He was making it so easy for you to talk to him, and that only made things harder.

"Our kiss…" you began, your voice quieter now. "It meant something to me. You mean something to me."

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. "You mean something to me too."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing. "But I don’t know what to do about Hotch. I didn’t plan for this to happen. I didn’t expect to feel… anything for him. But now, I can’t stop thinking about him either."

The truth spilled out before you could stop it. The tangled mess of emotions that had been building up inside you was now laid bare between you. And the look on Spencer’s face—God, it broke your heart. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved someone who wasn’t so conflicted, someone who wasn’t caught between two people.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Spencer," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the cards in his hands. "I know."

For a moment, the silence between you was unbearable. You could feel the weight of your indecision pressing down on both of you, suffocating the easy connection you had once shared. And you hated it. You hated that you had brought this confusion into our relationship. But most of all, you hated that I didn’t have an answer.

Finally, Spencer spoke again, his voice quiet but steady. "Do you love him?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with meaning. It wasn’t accusatory—it was simply Spencer trying to understand. But the weight of it made your heart clench.

Did you love Hotch?

you didn’t know. What you felt for him was intense, powerful, something you hadn’t been able to shake since that night in his office. But love? Was it love, or was it something else—something darker, more complicated?

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I care about him. A lot."

Spencer nodded, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything for a long time, just sat there with his cards, his mind clearly processing everything you had just told him. When he finally looked back at you, there was a sadness in his eyes, but also a quiet acceptance.

"I’ve always known you and Hotch had… something," he said softly. "I just didn’t want to admit it."

The guilt twisted inside you like a knife. "I never meant for it to happen, Spence."

"I know." He smiled gently, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "It’s okay. I just… I want you to be happy. Even if that’s with him."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. How could he be so selfless, so willing to put your happiness above his own? you didn’t deserve that kind of kindness. Not when you were the one causing this mess.

"Spencer, I—"

Before you could finish, he reached out, pulling a strand of hair behind your face. "I care about you," he said softly. "And I’m not going anywhere. But you need to figure this out. For yourself. For both of us." He gave you a kiss on your cheek and you nodded, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. He was right, of course. you needed to sort through your feelings, to understand what it was that you truly wanted.

---------

The restaurant buzzed with the warm sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. You sat at the edge of the booth, tucked between JJ and Reid, who were deep in conversation about something scientific you couldn’t quite follow. Normally, you would have been engrossed, eager to hear Spencer’s detailed explanation of whatever fact he was spouting tonight, but your attention was elsewhere.

Across the table, Hotch was nursing a glass of scotch, his dark eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. Each time they did, your heart skipped a beat, your stomach tightening with the unspoken tension that had been simmering between the two of you since that night in the office.

You tried to stay focused on the conversation around you, tried to pretend like the heat you felt was just the warmth from the restaurant and not the lingering burn from Hotch’s gaze, but it was impossible. The way he watched you, with that quiet intensity, made it hard to breathe. It felt like he was silently pulling you toward him, and no matter how much you tried to stay anchored to the moment, you couldn’t escape it.

"Are you okay?" Spencer’s voice pulled you back into the present, his brow furrowed in concern as he looked at you.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I’m fine Spence, don’t worry."

Spencer nodded, his gaze soft and understanding. He knew you too well, better than you sometimes liked to admit. But tonight, there was no space for that softness. Not with the way Hotch kept looking at you like he was undressing you with his eyes, peeling back layers of professionalism you’d tried so hard to maintain.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing little to calm the heat rising in your chest. You needed to step away—needed a moment to collect yourself before you did something reckless. Without saying much, you slid out from the booth, excusing yourself from the table and heading toward the patio outside.

The cool air hit your skin like a welcome reprieve. You took a deep breath, leaning against the railing and looking out at the dark street below, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The evening had been so casual, so light, but underneath it all, there was this tension, this pull that kept drawing you back to one person.

"Couldn’t handle all the noise in there either?"

Hotch’s voice broke through the quiet, sending a jolt through your body. You hadn’t realized he’d followed you outside, but now, standing just a few feet away, he seemed impossibly close.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the sight of him in the dim light. The way his broad shoulders filled out his jacket, the sharp angles of his jaw catching the glow from the streetlamp, it was all too much. "Needed some air," you managed to say, your voice softer than you’d intended.

Hotch stepped closer, his presence commanding, as always. "It’s been a long week," he said, his voice low and steady. "You did good work."

His compliment should have made you feel proud, but instead, it only added to the tension. The way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you, it wasn’t just about the case. There was more behind his words.

"Thanks," you replied, your breath catching slightly as he moved even closer, his body now just inches from yours.

The night air suddenly felt too warm, your skin prickling with the awareness of how close he was, how easily you could reach out and touch him. You shouldn’t. You knew that. But the temptation was overwhelming.

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and when he looked back up, there was a heat in his eyes that made your knees weak. "We shouldn’t be out here alone," he murmured, though there was no real conviction in his voice.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel the pull between you both growing stronger, the line between what was right and what you wanted blurring more with each passing second. "Maybe we shouldn’t," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

The space between you felt charged, electric. Your body hummed with anticipation, every inch of you hyperaware of how close he was, how much you wanted to close the gap. His hand brushed against yours, and the simple contact sent a shockwave through you, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Hotch…" you started, but the words caught in your throat as his fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you gently toward him. The touch was subtle, controlled, but it was enough to break whatever restraint you’d been holding onto.

You found yourself pressed against the railing, Hotch standing over you, his gaze dark and intense. His hand slid up your arm, leaving a trail of heat in its wake as he moved closer, his body almost flush against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the sheer presence of him overwhelming your senses.

"We can’t keep doing this," he whispered, but the way his breath ghosted over your skin told you he didn’t really mean it.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his face inched closer to yours. You could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your lips. "Then why are you here?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with tension, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, might retreat back behind the walls of professionalism he always kept up. But instead, he leaned in, his lips just barely grazing yours.

"Because I can’t stay away from you," he admitted, his voice raw and low.

The confession sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like you were both testing the waters, but the moment his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, everything else faded away. The world around you disappeared, and all that was left was the feel of his mouth on yours, the heat of his body pressing against you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as the kiss deepened, all the tension that had been building between you finally breaking. His lips moved with a fierce intensity, like he had been holding back for far too long, and now there was no stopping it.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring with a confidence that made your heart race even faster. Every touch, every press of his fingers against your skin, set you on fire, the overwhelming need for him consuming you.

You gasped softly as his mouth moved to your neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along your skin, sending a wave of heat through your body. Your head fell back, giving him better access as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer.

"Hotch…" you breathed, barely able to form the words as he continued to kiss you, his hands sliding under your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending shivers across your skin.

"We shouldn’t do this here" he muttered again against your skin, but the way his body pressed against yours, the way his breath came faster, told you neither of you were stopping.

The sound of laughter broke through the fog in your mind, pulling you back to reality for a moment. You suddenly remembered where you were. the team just inside the restaurant, Spencer probably wondering where you had gone.

You pulled back slightly, your breath shaky as you looked up at Hotch. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that made your pulse quicken all over again, but there was a flicker of hesitation there too.

"Spencer’s going to wonder…" you trailed off, not finishing the thought, the guilt creeping in.

Hotch’s jaw tensed, his hands still resting on your hips. "I know," he said quietly, but his gaze remained fixed on yours, filled with a conflict that mirrored your own.

You wanted him. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. But as you stood there, Hotch’s hands still on your body, the heat between you still burning, you realized that no matter what choice you made, things would never be the same again.

The cool night air still clung to your skin as you stepped back into the restaurant, your pulse racing from the kiss you had just shared with Hotch. Every inch of you still felt electrified, your body buzzing from the intensity of the moment. You were trying to play it cool, act as if nothing had happened, but it was hard when your heart was pounding in your chest, and the heat of Hotch’s touch still lingered on your skin.

You glanced sideways at Hotch as he walked next to you, his face composed but his jaw tight. Neither of you spoke a word as you rejoined the team, but the silence between you was filled with unspoken tension. It was as if everyone in the room could sense that something had shifted.

Morgan was the first to notice. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a playful grin. "Well, well, look who finally decided to come back," he teased, his eyes darting between you and Hotch. "What were you two doing out there? Planning world domination?"

You forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. "Just needed some air," you replied, sliding into your seat next to Spencer, who was watching you with quiet curiosity.

Hotch didn’t respond. He simply took his place back at the head of the table, picking up his glass of scotch as if nothing had happened. But you could feel his presence, strong, commanding, and impossibly close, even though there was now a table between you.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your casual response. "Air, huh? Looked a little more intense than that." His teasing tone carried an edge of curiosity that made your stomach twist.

You shot him a quick glare, trying to will the heat creeping up your neck to disappear. "Just some air, Morgan. You’re reading too much into it."

Before Morgan could press further, Garcia piped up, her bright voice cutting through the tension. "Come on, Derek, leave them alone. Not everyone needs to be in on your gossip." She shot you a wink, though there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes too.

Spencer smiled at you, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if searching for the truth beneath your words. His kindness, his understanding, made your heart ache. But the guilt that twisted inside you wasn’t enough to erase the pull you felt toward Aaron. The two men couldn’t have been more different, and yet, you found yourself caught between them, unable to make sense of your own feelings.

Morgan, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, leaned forward, his playful smirk returning. "Well, whatever you were doing out there, just know we all have bets going about who’s sneaking off with who tonight."

JJ shot him a look of exasperation. "Derek."

"What? I’m just saying. We all see how you two keep sneaking off," he said with a grin, his eyes darting between you and Hotch.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. "It’s nothing like that, Morgan."

But your words felt hollow, especially when Hotch’s gaze flickered briefly in your direction. The weight of what had happened outside was too fresh, too raw, and you could feel the shift in energy between you both, even if no one else knew the truth.

Morgan was still watching you with a knowing smirk, clearly not convinced by your attempts to brush him off. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "Come on, something’s up. You’ve been acting weird all night."

You glanced at him, trying to think of something, anything, to say that would get him off your back. But before you could respond, Hotch’s deep voice cut through the noise.

"Morgan, leave it."

The command was calm, but firm. It wasn’t a request. Morgan straightened up in his seat, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I’ll drop it." He shot you a quick glance, his curiosity still simmering just beneath the surface, but he let it go—for now.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful for Hotch’s intervention but also hyper-aware of how close you had come to unraveling under Morgan’s scrutiny.

Spencer’s hand brushed against yours under the table, a small, innocent touch that made your heart clench. You turned to him, his soft gaze meeting yours. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was steady, grounding you in a way that made you feel both comforted and guilty at the same time.

-----------------

You were barely out of your clothes and into your pajamas when the knock echoed through the quiet of your hotel room. For a moment, you considered ignoring it. You were too exhausted to deal with any more emotional turmoil, but something—someone—pulled you toward the door.

When you opened it, Hotch stood there, his expression neutral as always, but there was something about the way he looked at you tonight. His jaw was tight, his eyes searching yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hotch?" you asked, confused by his sudden appearance. "What’s going on?"

He hesitated for a moment, his hand gripping the doorframe as if steadying himself. "Can I come in?" he asked, his voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it, something unspoken beneath the surface.

You stepped aside, letting him in. The door clicked shut behind him, the soft hum of the hotel room suddenly feeling deafening. You could feel the tension radiating off of him, but you had no idea what had brought him here tonight.

He stood in the middle of the room, his hands at his sides, his posture rigid. "I saw what happened on the plane," he said finally, his voice calm, but you could hear the weight in his words. "With Spencer."

Your breath caught in your throat. Spencer had kissed your cheek after your conversation, a simple gesture of affection, but it had felt like so much more in the moment. You hadn’t realized Hotch had seen it.

"Hotch, I—"

He cut you off, his voice still infuriatingly neutral. "I think you should be with Spencer."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. His tone was so matter-of-fact, so calm, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t unaffected by this. For a man who always kept his emotions tightly locked away, there was a flicker of something vulnerable in his gaze now, something you hadn’t seen before.

You stared at him, your heart racing. "What?" you whispered, stepping closer to him. "Hotch, no…"

He clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering away from yours for the briefest moment before returning to your face. "He cares about you. I saw the way he looks at you, and I saw how you two talked on the plane. He kissed you." His voice was steady, but there was something underneath it—something raw. "Spencer can give you what you need. What I can't."

His words twisted inside of you, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. How could he think that? After everything that had happened between you, after all the tension and moments you had shared, how could he believe you’d choose someone else?

"Hotch, you don’t understand," you said, your voice trembling slightly. You took another step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm, desperate to make him see what he was missing. "I want you. That’s what I told Spencer."

The silence between you felt thick, charged with emotions you could no longer ignore. His eyes softened just slightly, the stoic façade he always wore cracking at the edges.

"I told him," you continued, your voice gaining strength. "I told him that I care about him, but it’s you. It’s always been you."

For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at you like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you. But then, his hands slid up to your waist, and the tension between you snapped like a rubber band stretched too far.

Without another word, you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss that was filled with all the frustration, the longing, the desire you had been holding back for so long. It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was desperate, like you hadn’t kissed him in ages, like you were trying to prove everything you couldn’t put into words.

Hotch responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His hands roamed over your body, exploring with a need that mirrored your own, his touch igniting a fire inside you that you hadn’t been able to extinguish since the first time you kissed.

His body pressed against yours, pinning you gently against the door as his mouth devoured yours, the tension that had been simmering between you finally finding release. You moaned softly into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands slid under your shirt, his touch hot against your skin.

"Hotch," you gasped, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, but he didn’t give you time to recover. His lips were on your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, making your pulse race.

"I shouldn’t want this," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough and filled with restraint. "But I do. God, I do."

His confession sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, your body pressing against his in a way that left no space between you. "Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice breathless as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the heat of him through his shirt.

Hotch groaned softly, his hands sliding up your waist and over your hips, pulling you even closer. His fingers dug into your skin, his touch possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You kissed him again, hard and hungry, your lips moving against his with a desperation that mirrored his. The tension between you had finally reached its breaking point, and now, there was no turning back. His hands were everywhere—on your waist, your hips, your back—exploring every inch of you with a need that made your head spin.

Your shirt was pushed up, his hands sliding under the fabric to touch your bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You gasped softly as his fingers brushed against the curve of your waist, your entire body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control.

"Hotch…" you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he answered in that deep, sexy voice that made your whole body heat up.

"I need you so badly."

His eyes darkened at your words, and without hesitation, he scooped you up effortlessly and laid you down on the bed. The way he moved—so strong, so sure—made your heart race even faster. He hovered over you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your body, before his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your head.

You felt exposed under his gaze, but it only added to the excitement coursing through you. His lips found the soft skin of your neck, kissing, nipping, and trailing lower with each breath. When his mouth reached the swell of your breasts, he paused, looking up at you with a smirk that sent a wave of heat through your core.

“God, your tits are so hot,” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual, and it took you by surprise. You were so used to his professional, composed demeanor that this raw, vulgar side of him was both shocking and incredibly arousing.

The dirty words made your body respond instantly, a fresh wave of wetness pooling between your thighs.

His mouth latched onto your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before pulling it between his lips. A gasp escaped your throat, and your hand flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands as he groaned against your skin. The vibration of his voice against your breast sent shivers down your spine.

He alternated between your breasts, his hands kneading your flesh while his mouth worked you over, sucking and kissing every inch of you until your entire body was humming with desire. His hands were warm and firm, and every touch sent sparks of pleasure through you, heightening the need that had been building between you all night.

When he finally moved lower, kissing down your stomach with a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses, your heart pounded in anticipation. He paused when he reached the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you with that devilish smirk again.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice soft, but filled with desire.

“Yes, please,” you breathed, unable to hide the desperation in your voice.

He hooked his fingers into your shorts, pulling them down slowly, torturously, and when he revealed your white lace underwear, his eyes lit up with amusement.

“You knew I was coming here tonight?” he teased, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill through you.

You smiled up at him, biting your lip as you watched him. “Maybe,” you whispered, the teasing tone in your voice barely masking the fact that your body was already aching for him.

He groaned softly, his hands brushing over your hips before he slowly dragged your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, dark and intense as they took in every inch of your naked body. The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

And then, without another word, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, his lips soft against your skin. Your breath hitched, anticipation building as he moved closer to your center, teasing you, making you wait. His hands slid up your legs, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, and when his mouth finally met your core, you gasped, your hips jerking toward him instinctively.

Hotch groaned against you, his tongue working slowly, deliberately, as if he was savoring every moment. The heat of his mouth was overwhelming, and the way his tongue circled your clit had your entire body trembling.

“Oh God, Hotch,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair again as your back arched off the bed. The pleasure was intense, almost too much, but you couldn’t get enough. Every stroke of his tongue sent you higher, building the tension inside you until you thought you might explode.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you closer as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue working you over with expert precision. You were already so close, your body teetering on the edge of release, and when he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you were done for.

The pressure inside you built to a breaking point, and with a cry of his name, you came hard, your entire body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Hotch didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working you through your release, prolonging the pleasure until you were completely spent.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you collapsed back against the bed, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. Hotch slowly pulled away, his mouth and fingers leaving your body as he kissed his way back up your stomach, over your breasts, and finally to your lips.

You kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The fire between you hadn’t dimmed, it had only just begun.

“I need you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

Hotch groaned softly, his hands sliding up your body as he positioned himself over you. “You have me,” he replied, his voice thick with desire.

And with a fluid motion, Hotch gripped your waist and pulled you on top of him, flipping your positions in one swift move. You straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his hips as you looked down at him. The sight of him lying beneath you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his eyes dark and full of lust, made your pulse quicken. He seemed so in control and yet, completely undone by the sight of you.

You reached for his tie, slowly loosening the knot. Your fingers trembled as you slid it free, tossing it aside before your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. You took your time, savoring the moment as you unbuttoned each one, revealing more of his chest with every flick of your fingers. When his shirt was fully undone, you pushed it open, running your hands over the firm muscles of his chest, your palms lingering over the warmth of his skin.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as you leaned down, pressing your lips to his skin, kissing and sucking at the exposed flesh. You trailed your mouth from his collarbone down to his chest, leaving small, dark marks in your wake. His breath hitched, and you felt his hands slide up your thighs, gripping them tightly as he groaned.

"Fuck, naughty girl," he muttered, his voice dripping with desire. His grip tightened in your hair, tugging your head back just slightly so he could look into your eyes. "You wanna mark me up, huh?"

The man who was always so stern, so composed, had completely unraveled beneath you, and you reveled in the control you had over him.

Your lips curved into a sly smile. "Maybe I do," you teased, your breath hot against his skin.

His eyes darkened even more, filled with a raw hunger that sent your heart racing. Without another word, he pulled you down, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that was all heat and desperation. His tongue found yours, demanding and unrelenting, and you moaned softly into his mouth as your body melted into his.

His hands slid from your hair to your waist, gripping you firmly as he kissed you deeper. You could feel the hardness of him beneath you, and the anticipation of what was to come made your entire body throb with need.

"Ride me," he commanded, his voice low and full of desire. The authority in his tone sent a thrill through you, making your stomach flip with excitement.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, your fingers working to unbutton and unzip his pants. You tugged them down just enough to free him, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw him, thick, hard, and more than ready for you. The sheer size of him made your body clench with anticipation.

You couldn’t wait any longer. You positioned yourself above him. And as you lowered yourself onto him, the stretch was immediate and intense. He was so big, filling you up completely, and you gasped as the sensation took over, your nails digging into his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips as he watched you intently. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with restraint. "You feel so good."

You paused for a moment, needing to adjust to the fullness of him. The pressure of having him so deep inside you made your head spin, and you bit your lip, trying to steady yourself. The pleasure was overwhelming, but you needed a second before you could move.

But Hotch wasn’t in the mood to wait.

His hands gripped your hips more tightly, and with a low growl, he began to move you, guiding your body up and down his length. The sudden movement made you cry out in pleasure, your hands bracing against his chest as your body rocked with his.

"Aaron…" you whimpered, your voice barely more than a gasp as the sensation of him inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The stretch, the fullness, the way he hit every perfect spot inside you, it was too much and not enough all at once.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he set the pace, thrusting up into you as he moved you on top of him. "God, you’re so tight," he growled, his voice rough and filled with a raw intensity that made your entire body tremble. "Look at you, taking me so well…"

You couldn’t respond, your mind was too clouded with pleasure, your body completely lost in the sensation of him filling you over and over again. Every time he thrust into you, it sent a bolt of electricity through your core, making your thighs quiver and your breath come in ragged gasps.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you, threatening to consume you whole. "Hotch," you gasped, your head falling back as your body rocked against his. The tension inside you was coiling tighter and tighter, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

His hands slid up your waist, guiding you with steady, relentless movements as he watched you with hooded eyes. "Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You gonna come for me?"

The words sent you spiraling. The intensity of his gaze, the heat of his hands on your body, the sheer pleasure of having him so deep inside you, it was too much. Your body tensed, your thighs trembling as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you.

"Aaron!" you cried out, your body convulsing as you came hard, the pleasure so intense that it left you shaking. Your hips bucked against his, your nails digging into his chest as your vision blurred, and all you could feel was him.

He groaned, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he thrust up into you harder, faster, chasing his own release. His muscles tensed beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he reached his peak. "Fuck…" he growled, his hands digging into your hips as he came, his release filling you completely.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you too caught up in the aftermath of your pleasure to speak. Your body was still trembling, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you collapsed onto his chest, your head resting against him as you tried to steady yourself.

Hotch’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as his chest rose and fell beneath you. His hands slid up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, his breath still heavy in your ear. "You’re incredible," he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender.

You smiled against his skin, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "So are you," you replied, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest as you caught your breath.

Hotch’s hand came up to cup your face, tilting your chin so you could look into his eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "You mean so much to me," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "More than you know."

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of his words settling over you. "I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze

[slutshamethesquirrels]

Suguru Blue - Part 3

Pairing: cult leader!geto x reader

Word Count (Part 3): 4K

Warnings: dub-con, rough sex, mentions of violence, sexual trauma, murder, mind games

From then on, he was playing a new game. One he’d never before played, and one he wasn't very fond of. He’d always been a sore loser.

It was part of his problem with Satoru all those years ago. The white haired beauty had forever been two steps ahead of him in almost every facet, whether that be skill or strength or sheer willpower. Satoru was always just a bit better in every way. An inch or two taller, a smartass retort just a second quicker, the bravery to kiss another boy just seconds before he himself had built up the confidence to do so. It was only natural that the only person who could be even more prideful than himself was Gojo. He knew he had no chance of convincing him to join himself in his defection; to do so would be convincing him they were on the losing side of history.

When the time came, he couldn't even look at him, knowing the ultramarine eyes of someone who once trusted- once loved him were boring holes in the back of his skull. But in a way, he'd finally won. The victory wasn't sweet. Going back on that decision would be to admit defeat yet again, so he never had.

Victory tasted a lot like curses sometimes, he decided, but not as intense. Less of an assault on your tastebuds and more of a kind of bile and acid constantly lodged in the back of his throat. Perhaps it was his urge to finally taste something a little sweeter that had him bending over backwards for you.

It was uncomfortable at first, practicing your stupid therapy terms. Boundaries strangled him. Coping Mechanisms felt like a serrated knife to his jugular. Repairing and Rebuilding felt like getting tossed down the stairs of some abandoned hotel by a first-grade curse at sixteen years old, every step knocking the wind from his chest.

It was helping, though. Whether he liked it or not. His first real reality check had come not from you, but from Nanako, who’d casually pointed out over breakfast how happy he’d seemed recently. He didn’t know if that word had ever been used to describe him, and he wasn’t sure he’d use it himself.

And still. This had to be at least close, right?

Here, on the couch with you, some old band he didn’t know emanating from the television, the screen just bright enough to cast shadows on the walls of your living room. There’s a faint acknowledgement swirling in the back of his brain that there was midday sunlight streaming in through the windows when he’d settled here with you nestled against the plush of the sofa, but he can’t care, not when your giggles are flooding his ears, your shoulders shaking against him as you scroll through social media. In the past fifteen minutes or so, you’d found an account full of cat videos, and he’d found himself entranced by just how easily you were amused.

He was learning a lot about you. You didn’t have many friends, but the ones you did were incredibly good ones (“Quality over quantity”, you’d said.) , you preferred fruity sweets to chocolate ones, you had the most irritating habit of getting in bed with your socks on and then kicking them off in the night. Each new detail was a brush stroke, your quail feather pen dipping into indigo ink and broadening his horizons, somehow without the slightest hint of knowledge about his world.

He wanted to tell you, to kneel at your altar and confess his transgressions, but he couldn't even expect God to have mercy on him, much less a monkey- human girl.

In another world, another life, somewhere far away from reality it’s different. He decides as he twirls his fingers through a loc of your hair, watching the way the lapis glow from your phone screen makes it shine. It's just the three of you; You, Satoru and himself. The two of you fight over who gets to sleep in the middle damn near nightly, and he ends up taking the spot for himself. He swears it's to stop the bickering, but the truth is he loves the way your individual breaths caress either side of his neck. It is because he feels the best trapped underneath the weight of the both of you. It's because he knows you'll fall asleep first and he'll get the last kiss from Satoru, but not before he watches one half of his soul trace the other one's sleeping features with his fingers-

“Hello? So far away.” Your voice cuts through the fantasy, and he’s ripped back into reality, clearing his throat as if he'd just been caught doing something wrong before humming in acknowledgment. You had a habit of making him feel raw, but right. Like a callous cut from a heel. Tender, painful, exposed, refreshed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You prod again when he doesn’t elaborate, and he chuckles.

“Just a penny? I’ll have you know, these are expensive ideas-”.

“A nickel then.”.

“Quarter.”.

“Okay, listen dude. I know the economy’s bad but holy shit.”.

He smirks as you discard your phone on the table and crawl up his body until you’re straddling his abdomen, his hands gently cradling your waist. It's the closest you’ve allowed him to get in a while, and it makes his skin itch. Though if he's honest, he doesn't know what to do when you finally let him truly touch you again. These days you felt more fragile than you used to, or maybe that wasn't the word he was looking for.

Not fragile, but delicate.

You were healing just as much as he was. Every time he saw you it seemed he made a new mistake. When he would move too fast and you’d jump, only to grab his hand and assure him you were okay. When he'd get a little too quiet, furrow his brow in thought and catch you staring at him like a deer in headlights. When he rolled over to hold you in the middle of the night last week and you’d awoken in a complete panic, desperately crawling away from him and gasping your safe word before he’d reoriented you.

“Blue!”

He didn't want to be the cause of your nightmares. And yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Not even for your own good. He’d done that before. This time, he was determined to do it differently.

Your hand moves to brush his hair back away from his face, and his eyes flutter shut almost as if to spite him. Vulnerable, raw. Hurts.

He's unsure if he's annoyed by or thankful for the shrill and sudden ringing emanating from the pocket of his hoodie, and at this hour there was really only one option for who it could be. And no matter how much he enjoyed his time with you, they would always come first. He can't explain why it is that he grabs the front of your shirt to keep you there as he shifts and produces his phone from his pocket and presses it to his ear. There's something in him that craves the pain, it seems.

Nanako doesn't wait for him to greet her before she starts.

“Are you coming home or not?!”

Somewhere in the distance he hears her twin chastising her for being so rude, and he cracks a fond grin at the sound, his eyes watching his own hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt as he argues with her. Yes, he's aware he’d been away quite a bit in the past week. No, of course he didn't hate them or wish them a slow and painful death. Yes, he would be home when they awoke in the morning. Yes, they could go out for breakfast.

When his eyes meet yours again your brow is furrowed, confusion twisting your pretty features.

“Who was that?” You ask, and he notices your shoulders growing tense. You didn't fully trust him yet, like a dog that had been wounded by a hand that was supposed to lead.

He flips through his repertoire of rules. Communication, honesty, vulnerability. Did it count when it came to his home life? Of course, he could never be completely honest with you, or at least not anytime soon. There was a large part of him that hoped he'd meet his end before he was cornered into breaking your heart like that. You were the only one that could make him feel real guilt. It was the one thing you possessed that Satoru didn't. Regardless, he had to at least try, to give you what he could.

“My kids.” His grip on you tightens as he watches emotion swirl in your eyes, unwilling to let you mentally or physically run from him until he could explain.

“They're not my blood. Fate brought us together when I was around nineteen. They were in a bad place, so was I. At the time, I think all three of us needed someone who understood… we just kind of never left each other.”

You soften a bit and he mirrors you, melting back into the couch as you seem to relax some. He loves that feeling, he realizes. There's some sort of reward center in his body that seems to be triggered only by your approval. It feels like when he used to steal Satoru's expensive jackets in the winter. Warm. Heavy.

“Nineteen is really young to take on two kids.” You murmur.

He can't exactly wrap his head around the way you're looking at him, so he just pulls you down into the crook of his neck instead, wrapping his arms around your frame.

“You're correct. Of all the mistakes I’ve made, though, that's not one of them. I’d do it all over again for them.”

“You're sweet.”

He doesn't respond, too focused on the way your breath is fanning across his neck to argue with you.

***

He can't justify his actions.

None of them. He’d never made a single rational decision in his life, actually. Geto was a rollercoaster of contradictions and conundrums, but somehow things always worked out. He survived, preserved, weathered the storm time and time again. His foundation was solid, though the paint on his walls weathered and the windows of his soul were cracked and patched with trash bags and duct tape.

He’d always been strong. Resolute. Assured.

So why, then, was he here? Standing at the door of your apartment in the dead of night, trying to find the will in himself to knock? Like you might reject him? You had every right to reject him. You should reject him.

He needed you. Never in his life had he needed anyone, but he was certain the weight in his stomach would crush him if he couldn't see you. Quickly. You’d become a strange safe haven for his sensitivities, something he wasn't all that happy about. It was like being stranded on a sinking ship.

Alone, he'd be able to consign himself to his fate, nothing but indigo waves spanning for miles around him. He could find a sense of calm in the inevitable.

You were a lighthouse. A beacon of hope in the distance. You gave him the idea that there was a way out of his fate, and with it, all the anxiety of chasing that faith. You gave him a chance, choice, and raised the stakes to desperate levels. Without you, there would be none.

He isn't sure what's worse, but he knocks anyway.

It takes you a minute and a few more rounds of knocking, but just when he's about to turn on his heel the door swings open.

“Suguru?” The half question comes through a yawn as one of your hands moves to scrub at your eyes with a balled fist. He’d feel bad for waking you if you didn't look so angelic in your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. Your knotted hair frames your face in a way that makes you look younger, softer, more vulnerable.

He immediately feels a little lighter.

“I-”

Right. Here he was, running to you for comfort, with no good excuse as to why. He didn't even understand it himself.

“I had a nightmare.” He can't look at you when he says it.

A small hum escapes you, along with a yawn, and then you’re stepping to the side, motioning him in. He hopes you're too tired to notice the tension in his gate, the way his skin bristles like he’s stepped past the barrier of a veil and directly into a domain, like there was a guaranteed hit barreling his way and he could do nothing but his best to protect himself. He’d walked the floor of your apartment so many times, slept in your bed, ate at your table– so why now did it feel foreign? Why did the click of your lock behind him sound like the cock of Toji Fushiguro’s revolver?

He shouldn’t have come here. Not in such a chaotic state. He should’ve waited until the sun was out, until the sky was painted a much lighter shade of blue; one that wasn’t so difficult to see through.

Your fingers find his wrist, tugging him lazily back to a bed he considered sacred.

He lets you.

He lets you get settled, guide him forward, pull him down to you with delicate fingers on his arms, his shoulders, his jaw– until you’re tucking him into the crook of your neck, undoing the hasty bun he’d made out of his hair on his way over, massaging his scalp with your fingers– soothing him.

“I’m too heavy for you, y/n.”

It was true in more ways than you could possibly conceive of, but you only pull more of his body weight over your frame until your drowning in his hair, his broad shoulders, his battle-sculpted arms. The large scars that form an ‘x’ on his chest brush against the fabric of his tshirt, and it feels like they might tear open once again.

“Don’t care.” You sigh out, dipping one hand below the fabric of his shirt you rake your nails lightly along his back. He shudders, watches the way the moonlight streaming in through the window dances across his forearm, illuminating the scars you’d blessed him with.

He didn’t know where all his scars had come from, to keep count would be pointless. He kept track of the important ones, though. The four on his arm, the two across his chest, the bite mark on the inside of his thigh from where Satoru had gotten just a little too rough back in the sweltering dark of his dorm room. Sex was always like that with Satoru, with himself. Less of an act of love, and more one of consumption, of control, of power– of revenge. Another game to win.

“You deserve better.” He argues, self assured in at least that.

“I don’t want better.” You’re just as resolute as he is.

He lifts his head to protest, but you silence him by pressing your lips to his. It’s a comfort and a curse, a gentle hand and a closed fist, a lullaby and a jolt of electricity that makes every neuron in his body fire off in quick succession.

How long has it been since you kissed him? Did it always feel like this?

“Please.” The pathetic word escapes him before he can stop it. Would humans always be his weakness? You brought new meaning to the idea.

Another kiss, and then two, and then three. Chaste, gentle motions that burned worse than any fire he’d ever faced. His whimpers sing a song of mercy, knuckles ice white as he grips the bedsheets behind your head, head diving forward for more, more, more–

He wanted to consume you, swallow you down like one of his curses, pull you out when it benefited him, telepathically know where you are at all times, trap you in his web of darkness and chaos and never ever let you leave him. He licks into your mouth and you release a gasp that makes his stomach clench.

“Suguru.”

It sounds like a warning. His lips tremble when he parts from you, and he just can't move back as much as he knows you’d probably prefer. He rests his forehead against yours, keeps his eyes shut, breathes in deep drawls of your breath, whispers an apology.

Your hands card through his hair.

“You're really pretty, you know that?”

He peeks at you through heavy lids “So I've been told.”.

You roll your eyes and he grins, sly but genuine.

“I’m trying to be nice to you, dickhead.”.

This time, he giggles childishly as your hands push at his shoulders, guiding him flat on his back so you can straddle is waist. It's almost ridiculous, the way the heat of your body turns his insides to a blended mess of organs and raw emotions. His heart swells, his lungs tighten, his stomach flips, his cock twitches.

Your hands slip under his shirt, palms stroking against his skin as you slide it up over his head and toss it to the side. His abdomen flexes under the soft skin of your hands. Your fingers dance along the scars, trace his rigid form.

Your mouth replaces your hands, wet warm silk gliding down his chest, swirling methodically, flicking over his nipples. He gasps for air, fists your hair, trembles against the urge to fight you, begs himself to take your worship. He had no problem accepting it from anyone else, after all.

“You’re shaking” You note, but don't stop your assault on his senses, licking one long stripe from his naval to his neck, the way his back arches is mortifying.

It feels like forever you stay there, exchanging spit, moans, blotting each other purple with no teeth. All suction, pressure, aching.

When he finally dips his fingers past the band of your sweatpants he's met with an obscene amount of slick. He circles your clit a few times, swiping your whines out of your mouth with his tongue, panting when you get impatient all too quickly, reaching down to guide his fingers into your body.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, but he already knows the answer.

“More.”

Who was he to deny you?

It isn't long before you become insatiable, finding yourself sinking down on his cock with his sweats still gripping his thighs and your shirt still clinging to your frame, damp with sweat.

He loves the way you look when he splits you apart, lips quivering and brow furrowed as you struggle to accommodate him. He loves hollowing you out, carving a place for just him to nestle deep inside your pretty little body. He loves the way your pussy clenches, sucks him in, holds tight like he was meant to be slotted inside you, jerking against your cervix, painting you from the inside out with his precum.

He helps you, guides your hips as you bounce desperately against him, chasing your high shamelessly, melting his brain with every moan. Electricity strikes his body with each stroke, his muscles jerk in tandem.

You struggle when you get close, your thighs jerking against your own desire, pace stuttering. He thinks it's precious, the way you're edging yourself to tears with your sheer inability to keep up with yourself.

Eventually, though, he does find a bit of mercy within himself, flipping you over on your back, fucking into you steadily, toying with your clit.

You dig red stripes into his back as you come unglued, sink your teeth into his already bruised shoulder. He hopes the burn never fades.

When he cums, he doesn't pull out, stuffs you full of him, hopes you can feel it in your soul. Your legs lock around his waist, hips rut animalistically against him, making sure nothing goes to waste.

He can't win this game, he tells himself as he watches you sleep, traces your features with his fingers. There was no world in which you were safe. Not in this timeline, but maybe the next.

Which game was more childish? Thinking he could change anything for Satoru? Or thinking he could change anything for you?

He falls asleep with you nestled in his grip, sometime after the sky turns a bright baby blue.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Wife - Pt1

benji blackwood x preg!targ!fem!reader 

His Princess series spin off 

Summary: Two months after settling into Raventree Hall with your new husband. You’re four months pregnant and going through your first pregnancy which isn’t easy but Benji has no issue doing anything and everything to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f), p in v, pregnancy, birth - detailed but not like super intense, time skips

Authors Note: i wish i had a valid reason of why it took me so FKN long to start this!!!! i think it’s bc i don’t want this series to truly end like i literally have a whole timeline and everything planned out for this but it wasn’t time yet 😔🧎🏼‍♀️ as an apology i made him a munch 🤗

Word Count: 4.1k

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4 months pregnant 

It’s been just over two months since we’ve arrived at Raventree Hall. Our first few weeks consisted of us unpacking the wagons filled with my things and making preparations for housing Vermithor and Silverwing. My mother sent supplies to help support the dragon pit and men have been unloading it daily and it’s near completion now.

Benji attends meetings when he’s not in the yard with his men helping make up for the losses they have suffered. I wish to be out there helping but ever since I started showing it’s been impossible for me to leave the castle without him hauling me back inside. I must admit I’m jealous of the amount of time the men get to spend with my husband. 

My bump is not noticeable when I’m wearing my gowns but he knows it’s there so therefore I apparently can’t do anything. I don’t necessarily mind not training and exuding so much energy everyday but I would like to walk the grounds on my own time. The thing I’m thankful for most is that there is a back exit allowing me to walk directly to Silverwing and he’s smart enough not to keep me from her. 

I cried for days when she laid a clutch. We have become so fiercely inseparable since then that I sneak out here even in the middle of the night to curl up with her. I’ll wake in the middle of the night to a blanket wrapped around me and Benji sitting across from me with worry written across his features. 

“The ground is too hard for you and our child.” his voice rough as he adjusts his back. 

“Then make me a bed.” I turn to him with no intention of getting up. 

“You have one in our chambers.” he looks at me with tired eyes. 

“I want to sleep here.” I murmur. 

“I want you to sleep next to me.” he sits up straighter. 

“Then come here.” I pat the ground next to me. 

“I’ll have a bed out here by tomorrow night.” he sighs before coming to curl up with me and Silverwing. 

Vermithor grumbles and circles around Silverwing before thudding to the ground. Benji pulls my back against his chest and lays his hand across my growing stomach. My hand holds his as I lean back into him and fall back asleep.

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5 months pregnant 

Benji kept his word and had a bed brought in the very next day. We were nervous our dragons would scorch it but Silverwing protects it when I’m not there. The daily meetings have finally lessened as everyone is settling into their new stations. New commanders and trainers have been selected and everyday life is starting to go back to normal. 

As the air begins to chill the more time I spend in the bath. It’s truly a work of art. Smooth stone with carved seating. The amount of handmaids and midwives that wait on me either with fresh soaps or oils is absolutely divine. Seeing this for the first time made me want to marry him again. 

“Still enjoying your bath, my wife?” Benjis voice lingers from the door frame he’s leaning on. 

“I think this is the best thing you’ve ever given me, my husband.” I look him over with low lids. 

“Thank you, ladies. You can leave us.” he nods his head to them with a soft smile as they escort themselves out of our chambers quickly.

“Mm and what have I done to deserve the pleasure of you bathing me?” I hum looking to him as he stalks over to the tub. 

“Can I not dote on my wife?” he cups my cheek and I look up at him adoringly. 

“I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me. You only seem to spend time in meetings or with your men.” I raise an eyebrow looking up to him. 

“I tried to get everything back in order as quickly as I could. You’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of time now.” he helps me rise from the bath and keeps both hands on me at all times. 

“I better or I may have to find a second husband.” I wrap the towel around me tighter as he brings us into our bed chambers. 

“Do not jest about such a thing.” his voice low as he turns to me. “I will kill any man you think could possibly replace me.” his hand goes to rest on my bump.

“Relax.” I chuckle smoothing his furrowed brow. “There is no one else for me.” our eyes lock on one another. 

“You are mine and only mine.” his brow furrows again as he pulls me closer. 

“I am yours.” I nod my head reassuring him. 

“Growing with our child.” he brings both of his hands to my bump and kneels before me. “Our son.” he kisses across my stomach as I brush his hair back. His hands trail up my thighs and my breath catches. 

“Benji,” his name barely a whisper on my tongue. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, my Princess.” he kisses across my thighs. “Come to the bed so I can show you just how sorry I am.” he smirks up at my reddened cheeks. 

As we make it to the bed he pulls my towel off and looks me over with hungry eyes. I turn to him and start to help him undress and as his skin is revealed I caress every inch. My fingertips trail down his torso and start to unlace is trousers. Once he’s freed I look up to him with low lids and he backs me up to the bed. 

He lowers me onto the bed taking great care and settles between my thighs. I get frustrated that I can’t see his full head anymore when he’s between them but that thought leaves my mind the second his tongue licks against me. He spreads my thighs as he makes his way down to my core. I buck as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. My breath comes out in pants as he pushes his tongue in me. I buck against his nose and feel my pleasure about to burst. His tongue slides back up to my bud and moans pour from my mouth. 

“Fuck Benji, yes,” I fist the sheets as I come undone with my chest heaving. He lifts up from my thighs licking his lips. He kisses up to my mouth and I whine as I feel him start to push into me. He slowly kisses me as he rolls his hips into mine. Our tongues caress each other as he continues at a languid pace. I whine into his mouth as I feel my pleasure begin to build. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he pants as his rhythm starts to falter. “My wife, my princess.” he whispers and I come undone around him. I feel him still as his warmth spreads throughout causing my toes to curl. He slowly pulls out and rests next to me, smoothing my hair. He leaves soft kisses along my neck as his hand rests across my bump. After we settle for a couple of minutes I turn to him. 

“I want to-“ 

“I know, I know.” he kisses my forehead before rolling out of bed. He pulls on a pair of night pants before he finds me a night dress and brings it over to me. He helps me sit up and slips the soft fabric over my head. We walk down the back steps and curl up with our dragons. 

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6 months pregnant 

I roll my eyes as Benji clips me into Silverwing and triple checks that everything is secure. Silverwing grumbles at the same time as I exhale loudly. I hear Benjis soft chuckle as he pulls back to look at me. He kisses across my furrowed brow before placing a quick kiss on my lips. 

“Stop pouting.” he bites his lip to stifle his laugh. 

“Then get off. We want to fly.” my hands squeeze the leather reins. 

“At once, princess.” he bows and I curse lowly at him much to his delight. “I’ll see you in the skies.” once I see him walking to Vermithor we launch into the sky. Silverwing glides us along the breeze along the countryside and I let my eyes drift shut. The wind blows through my hair and we slowly make our way up to the clouds. 

I open my eyes when I feel the cool kiss of the clouds against my cheeks. Silverwing sings as she pushes us through them as I smile and lean against her. I hear a deep hum and see Benji below us on Vermithor. We dip down to them and they circle around us. Our dragons sing to each other as they fly on the breeze together before bringing us back home. 

“You two are magnificent.” Benji stands at Silverwings feet and looks up to us. I unclip and climb down to the side and Benjis hands are around my waist immediately. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he looks me over, always assessing. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” I grab his cheeks and look in his eyes nodding. “You don’t need to be so protective.” 

“It’s my job to be protective.” Benji starts to lead me up the stairs to our chambers and I groan. 

“Yes, I know.” I sigh as he starts to take off my jacket and boots. “It’s just overbearing sometimes.” I mumble sitting back into a chair as he tries to unlace my shirt. 

“You don’t even want to undress yourself.” he chuckles as he starts to lift the fabric over my head. 

“Because you’ll insist you do it.” I relax further back and he begins to shimmy off my trousers. 

“Do you want me to stop?” his tone borderline mocking and I squint my eyes at him. 

“Benji do not test me.” he smirks at my words. 

“I can call your handmaidens up here.” he hums as he pulls my trousers the rest of the way off. 

“Then leave.” I huff looking down at him. “I don’t know why you insist on being so difficult.” he holds back his smile. 

“Relax, my wife. I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” he kisses up my leg smirking against my skin. 

“Use your mouth for something useful or leave.” I prop myself up to look down at him. 

“So which is it then? Leave or don’t?” he licks his lips. 

“I should throw you in the dueng-“ a moan tears through me as he licks up my slit. He stays buried between my thighs until I’m crying out his name and shaking beneath him. He pulls off his clothes before settling next to me and splaying his hand across my bump with his face next to his. 

“I can’t wait for you to join us out here. I’m scared of mommy.” he whispers and I tug his hair. 

“Benjicot.” I scold. 

“I think she’s just so excited to meet you that is making her lose her patience.” he coos peppering kisses against my swollen stomach. 

“Daddy doesn’t understand what I’m going through to bring you to us.” I hum rubbing my stomach. “And if daddy doesn’t mind his words he’ll find himself unable to speak any.” Benji chuckles, coming up to place a kiss on my lips. 

“You are absolutely radiant and if you want me to be silent for the rest of our days then I shall be.” he kisses down my jaw and before cuddling me against him. 

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7 months pregnant 

The days have begun to feel longer and I’m now grateful for Benji waiting on me hand and foot. Lately the only reason I’m out of bed is to sit in the bath. My mother sent a dozen midwives and maesters to aid me in the coming months to help me adjust. I’ve just felt so uncomfortable and I miss flying. 

“Let me help you back to bed.” Benji pleads from outside of the tub. 

“I feel even more uncomfortable in bed.” my voice cracks as I look to him. 

“The water is cold and you’re pruning.” his brows furrowed as he holds my hand. 

“I don’t care.” my lip wobbles. 

“What can I do to get you out of the tub?” he kneels down searching my eyes. 

“I want to see Silverwing.” my eyes pleading. 

“That’s a lot of stairs.” he winces as I sigh loudly. 

“Then just get me up.” I wave my hand angrily. 

“My love-“ 

“Just get me up. I don’t care.” I snap as I start to rise out of the bath ignoring my back yelling in protest. His hands fly to my waist and wrap around me under my arms to help me step out. I walk slowly back over to the bed and ease onto it with a grunt. 

“Do you want me to get the midwives or maesters?” Benji looks down at me worriedly. 

“No.” I wince pushing myself up. “I don’t want anything.” I glance at him before pulling the blankets over me. “Just leave.” I huff at the hot tears running down my cheeks. 

“My princess, please,” he steps toward me. 

“Benji, just give me an hour.” I toss my head back into the pillow. I curse myself for being so mean to him. I’m just uncomfortable and I hate all of the restrictions. The past month has been so uncomfortable I can’t bear it anymore. I’m getting so pent up and stir crazy I don’t know how I’ll be able to do this for two more months. I brush away my tears as I settle further into the bed letting my only other reprieve: sleep take over.

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I open my eyes to a dimly lit room and Benji asleep in a chair at the end of the bed. I sigh at myself that my actions and words made him feel the need to sleep in a chair. I stretch down and push my foot against his leg to wake him up. He slowly blinks and looks to me with a lazy smile. 

“How are you my beautiful wife?” he hums watching my cheeks flush. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean.” my voice small and he frowns. 

“You’re not mean. Why would you think that?” he stands and walks to my side to brush my hair back. 

“You didn’t sleep in bed with me.” I look up to him. 

“You asked me to give you space. I figured that staying at the end of the bed was a good compromise.” he leans down to kiss my forehead. 

“Come to bed.” I push my bottom lip out and he chuckles. He slips into bed beside me and we turn to look at one another. “I’m sorry.” a tear slips down my cheek. 

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for.” he shakes his head. 

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8 months pregnant 

“Why did you send word for her?” my voice travels throughout our chambers. 

“You won’t leave our chambers or see any midwife or maester. You won’t let them even check up on the babe. Who else did you expect me to write to? She can give us answers without even needing to see you.” I fume at his words. 

“Gods know if you ever ceased contact with Alys in the first place.” I roll my eyes at him as I ease myself down to the couch with shaky arms. 

“Enough.” Benji says through his teeth as he helps me sink to the cushions. “Can I bring her up?” he looks down to me clenching his jaw. 

“Whatever pleases you.” I huff resting back. I’m doing fine, I just don’t want so many people around me. I feel claustrophobic in my own body. I don't need to feel like that in my chambers as well. As Alys walks through the door she seems to glide over to me and looks at me with curious eyes. 

“How are you, princess?” she asks taking a seat next to me. 

“Ready to have this babe.” I sigh, resting my hand on my swollen stomach. 

“Any discomfort?” I laugh at her question. 

“Of course. Look at me.” I turn my head to her with a smile. “Benji is insistent on having every person available hover over me. I’m just tired.” Alys looks to me with a smile. 

“Leave us.” she waves at Benji. He slips out of our chambers and I turn my head to her expectantly. “May I?” she asks, looking to my bump. 

“Go ahead.” I nod and watch as she places her hand against me. I watch as emotions pass across her face until she’s lifting her hand off and smiling at me. 

“He’s well. No issues. But you on the other hand..” she tsks. “Allow your husband to care for you.” she gives me a knowing look. “It’ll help relax you. Your tense state isn’t good for anyone. I’ll be staying to help with the birth.” she stands and walks to the door. 

“That’s unnecessary.” I call after her and she waves me off before dipping through the door. I shake my head at the fact that she said nothing of true value besides that my babe is healthy. Benji slips through the door with red cheeks and walks over to me. “What did she say to you?” I raise my eyebrow at him. 

“She told me to come in here and please you until you relax.” his voice low as his cheeks flush even darker. 

“She’s ridiculous.” I roll my eyes and watch him as he stalks over to me. 

“It’s been awhile..” he trails off standing before me. “You don’t even have to move.” he hums, getting on his knees and pushing up my night dress. 

“Benji,” my voice broken as he runs his hands up my legs. 

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bed?” he looks up to me with dark eyes. 

“The bed.” I nibble my lip. He stands and helps me over to the bed. He pulls my night dress off of me and helps prop me up against the pillows. He settles between my legs kissing both of them. His tongue darts against my inner thighs and I buck into him. His hands hold my thighs open as he licks a thick stripe up my slit. “Fuck Benji,” I tremble above him fisting the sheets. 

“Just let go princess.” he says before attaching his mouth to me. High pitched gasps fall from my mouth as he swirls his tongue around my sensitive bud. My thighs shake as he holds them open as lashes against me. I burst across his face and he keeps lapping his tongue against me. I feel my pleasure building by the second as I push back into the pillows. Benji follows my movements and slips his tongue down to my core as I grind against his face. 

“Right there Benji,” I cry out as I pulse around his tongue. He pulls up and replaces his tongue with his fingers against my bud. When I see his face I see that he’s smiling wildly with a wet chin as I squirm around his fingers. 

“How’s that feel?” he licks his lips watching me pant and grind against his hand. 

“So good,” I whine as he dips his fingers into me. A wrecked sob tears through me as I burst across his fingers. He starts to push his fingers in faster and I feel like I’m in a continuous high as I pulse around him. He slows his pace and my breathing starts to come out in little gasps. He pulls them out and lays in bed next to me as my chest heaves. “Thank you,” I turn to him with heavy lids. 

“Rest.” he presses his lips against mine and holds me as I sleep. 

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Birth

“I’m right here. You can hold my hand.” Benjis soft voice irritates me. 

“I don’t want to hold your fucking hand.” I grit out as another contraction washes over me.

“Hey, hey,” my mother comes to my side with a cool cloth. 

“He’s the reason I’m in this situation.” I stare daggers at him as he holds his hands up. 

“Benji, go get her a glass of water.” my mother turns to him and he’s on his feet at once with a purpose. “Focus on your breathing with me.” she looks in my eyes and nods her head. 

“It’s almost time to begin pushing.” Alys says from the doorway. 

“I have the water.” Benji pushes past Alys and is back at my side. 

“Gods everyone get away from me. I’m hot. Stop hovering.” I start to panic at the reality of me having to actually have this babe and it’s becoming overwhelming. I squeeze my eyes shut willing everyone to be quiet and let me breathe. 

“Look at me, my wife.” Benjis words catch my attention. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” I focus on his calm words as my mother lays my brow with the cold cloth. 

“I’m scared.” I look up at him as another contraction rocks through me. 

“I’m here.” Benji assures me holding my hand tightly. 

“I’m here too, sweet girl.” my mother whispers. I cry out as another cramp slams my senses. 

“It’s time.” Alys sweeps into the room and is next to the maester in seconds. 

“Push,” the maester instructs and my body responds accordingly. I scream as I push again and my mother tries to get me to focus on her breathing. Sweat forms on my brow and my mother dabs it away as I squeeze Benjis hand. 

“You’re doing amazing.” Benjis words of encouragement offer me some comfort as I feel the breath stolen from me at the pain. 

“Push princess.” Alys instructs and I groan as tears stream down my face. I push and gasp for breath. “I can see the head.” Alys nods at me. 

“You’re almost there.” my mother offers me her hand and I squeeze it tightly as I give my all into this last push. I sigh as I feel a loss of pressure and Benji chuckles from my side. I hear the babes cry and soon Alys is bringing the babe up to my arms. 

“How is he?” I cry as I hold him. 

“He’s healthy as expected.” she brushes against the babes dark silver hair. 

“You're incredible.” Benji whispers, wrapping his arm around me. The babe opens his eyes and I gasp taking in his one violet eye and his one brown eye. 

“He’s absolutely handsome.” my mother peeks over my shoulder at him. “What will you name him?” 

“Daemon.” Benji and I speak at the same time. 

“He would be so proud.” my mother brushes the hair from my forehead. “We’ll give you three some time.” she nods for everyone to clear out of our chambers. 

“Help me up.” I look to Benji. 

“I will do no such thing.” he looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it to you.” 

“I wish to put him in his crib with his egg.” I coo down to my son as I spot Benji walking over to the wooden frame. “And if daddy scrapes that crib against the floor to bring it over here and wakes you up from your sleep mommy will kick him out for the night.” I caress Daemons cheek. 

“Five minutes.” Benji relents coming to my side. I wince and groan as I rise from the bed with the babe in my arms. He helps me walk over to the crib. I place our son on the feather mattress and he turns to curl against his egg. Benji holds me against him as I lean on him for support as we watch our son sleep. “Back to bed.” he helps me slowly get back into bed and covers me before slipping in beside me.

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masterlist 🔌 

okokok so i’m anticipating at least one to two more parts of this 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

While I don’t think the senti-kid story necessarily works if the writers wanted to keep the show focused on kids, I think it would’ve gone over a bit better if it was just Felix who was the senti, rather than also Adrien and Kagami (especially Kagami, she was a complete retcon in that regard).

Picture this:

Gabriel, Emilie, and Natalie find the Miraculous (Butterfly and Peacock) because they have an expensive hobby (archeology/collecting rare items, as wealthy people like to do), not because they need the magic at all. They just heard a rumor of an old Tibetan monastery and wanted to check it out, got lucky in finding the two jewels. The Peacock doesn’t even have to be broken.

We can keep the basics of the backstory shown in Representation- minus the detail of Adrien being made with the Peacock. Gabriel and Emilie conceive Adrien normally, but Colt and Amelie aren’t able to like in canon, so Colt has that same jealous outburst at Gabriel. Because Emilie feels bad for her sister, and Gabriel sees an opportunity to make a deal, they lend, or maybe trade, the Peacock to them to create a child. As in canon, Colt uses it, and his jealousy makes Felix a physical copy of Adrien.

Emilie gets sick for non-magical reasons. (I wouldn’t mind having her use it for funsies and not realizing it was broken, but it’s very obviously cracked, and I can’t imagine at least one of their two kwamis not giving them a warning.) As for what happens to Colt, I’m on the fence about him being alive in present times because that kind of abuse is really heavy, so maybe he just dies for unsaid reasons (though I vote Amelie poisoned him or something).

This version would allow for a really cool contrast between Adrien and Felix’s stories and characters. You have Adrien, a normal human, capable of disobedience, but who bends easily under others and is a people-pleaser. Versus Felix, a senti being magically compelled to obey orders of whoever has his amok, but fights to be free every chance he gets. That contrast would also further Felix’s frustration and jealousy of Adrien, in addition to his own father’s hatred of him and being identical to his cousin, because Felix would kill for Adrien’s free will, but he squanders it. But then there’s also the issue that he’s essentially victim blaming Adrien, not realizing that magic isn’t the only way to force obedience- not to mention ignoring the times that Adrien did stand up for himself (like running away to school). I think that would be a really great discussion of free will, how jealousy can blind you, family conflict (and resolution), and how different kinds of abuse/trauma aren’t automatically better than each other just because they’re opposites (ex: someone with heatstroke shouldn’t be jealous of someone with frostbite. Both suck.) The intensity might be worse for each circumstance (since Felix has magical abuse and physical+verbal abuse), but he would be in the wrong for saying Adrien has it easy.

(I think at this point my ADHD is over-explaining, so I’ll leave it at that lol)

Do you think a route like that would’ve improved the show at all? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

The sentiplot has many issues and one of the big ones is that it's not a great fit for a show where Marinette is the one and only main character. They've given Kagami, Felix, and Adrien this massive weight that begs for them to take center stage for at least a few episodes, but probably a whole season or two. The show isn't going to do that, so it's near impossible to really fix the sentiplot without truly massive changes to canon.

That being said, I think that this idea would have vastly improved the sentiplot in its current form! Right now, the senti thing truly doesn't matter to Adrien's character. His mom could have gotten sick for any random reason and the only meaningful change would be that Gabriel couldn't use the rings to keep Adrienette from kissing that one time. Outside of that, Adrien's status has no meaningful effect on the story. It doesn't even keep him out of the final! He does that on his own! The senti thing is just there for cheap drama.

There's also the issue that the current storyline makes the Agreste's look awful which is clearly not the story's goal. Emilie is supposed to be an angel and Gabriel is supposed to be a grief-stricken man who loves his family. That doesn't fit with the kind of monsters who would make a magical designer slave to be their child and then wear his control rings around as daily accessories. Remember, they picked their freaking wedding rings for his slave collars! Most people wear those every day. The implications are nasty!

It makes way more sense for the Agreste's to have the peacock for more mundane reasons and for Colt to get it somehow. Maybe even have him steal it after he finds out about it to really remove the Ageste's from the perfect slave child issue. This allows for the contrast between Gabriel and Colt that canon so clearly wanted, but failed to write. It also makes Felix's actions towards Adrien make way more sense. It feels like canon Felix hates Adrien and we still don't know why that is.

As nebulous as Felix's character is, he still feels like the kind of character who needs to be tied to something like the sentiplot. It's part of the reason I don't think I can use him in my own stuff. The sentiplot is - or at least should be - such a major, defining thing for him that the only possible way to use him is to keep that plot or to give him a plot about freeing the Kwamis since they're also slaves and his abusive childhood could make him feel a bond with them.

Focusing the sentistruggle on Felix instead of spreading it out to include Adrien and Kagami would also keep the sentistuff from dominating the story. Making the male romantic lead an artificial being without true free will whose creation killed his mother is a massive thing that needs to be the focus of his character for the rest of the story. People are on the edge of their seats waiting for Adrien to learn the truth and want this to be a big plot. I do not think they're going to get that, but they should.

Having a side character be the artificial human allows this to be something that is dealt with and then Felix either leaves or fades into the background once his story is over because his story allowed to have an ending whenever they want it to. That's not true for Adrien. Adrien's ending is happily every after with Marinette and the sentiplot needlessly complicates that plan because it means that Adrien's character is always going to be center stage, making people want the sentiplot to mean something since it's apparently impossible for him to ever be a real boy who has true free will. That's such a massive thing that it begs for Adrien to be the main character, which is an asinine writing choice. I have no idea why they keep giving Adrien all this massive narrative weight. You don't do that if you want the female romantic lead to be the main focus! You do it if you want them to be true costars or if you want the male lead to get the majority of the focus. This is writing 101!

As you said at the top, I'm not sure how well this works for a show aimed at five-year-olds because it's still a pretty heavy stuff, but as a general idea, I'd be down to watch it! I didn't have a ton to add to this one because your pitch was already excellent!

[positivelybeastly]

If you could make movies about Hank, how many would you do and what could we see in them? Like an origin story, specific storyline etc. Would it be live action or a cartoon/animation, if live action who would you cast as Beast?

Now this is a fun thought experiment!

So, I actually think that if I was going to focus specifically on Hank, I would want multiple series, each separated according to decade or periods of his life, as it were, and we're going to mix media a little bit. Bear with me. This is probably going to be a multi-part series, so, here's the first part.

60s/First Class

So, we start off with a live action series that begins in medias res - alarms are blaring, people are rushing through corridors, klaxons are bathing corridors in red light. Through it all, a young man with a frightened but determined look on his face fights through the tide until he reaches a room full of radiation suits. He pulls one on, takes a few deep breaths, and then pushes through into a reactor room that's clearly going critical.

No music. No dialogue. No sound, except for the thumping of a heart beat and the sounds of this intricate mechanism being cajoled, being calmed, being put right again, until eventually the alarm lifts. Now it's just the sound of heavy, panicked breathing, and the man keels over at the railing nearest to him as a group of men in identical radiation suits rush to him. He blacks out.

When he comes to, he smiles at the woman sitting beside his bed, and moves as if to kiss her, but she smacks his arm, before embracing him and kissing him. A doctor moves in to talk, but there's still no dialogue, just soft music. A small montage of people in suits, offering the man in the bed a lot of paperwork that he signs. Before long, he's well enough to leave the hospital, and he and his wife drive to a farm. They stand on the outskirts, arms wrapped around one another. Camera pulls back, revealing the name on the mailbox.

McCoy.

Cut to the intro, which is nuclear flames, genomes shattering, a mysterious, animalistic figure gazing out of shadow with yellow eyes that turn into spotlights, revealing the title of the show.

'X-MEN: BEAST - FIRST CLASS'

17 YEARS LATER

A young man who's the spitting image of the man we saw in this prologue sequence is being harassed by a young woman with blonde hair. They're talking about the last quiz they just had to take in Biology, and the young woman tells the young man that he needs to stop hiding who he is. How brilliant he is. He tells her that he's on the high end of normal, and she scoffs. They walk by a football tryout, where the coach is harassing his team, telling them that any old nerd could do better than them.

"You, McKay - over here, show 'em what I mean."

"It's McCoy, sir, and I don't know quite what you mean?"

The coach becomes ever more insistent. McCoy shrugs, shaking his head. He kicks the ball. It sails clean, hits the goal - at the other end of the pitch. The coach is flabbergasted. He wants McCoy for the team, but McCoy is uncertain - until the team kicks off, saying they don't want this gorilla on their team. One of them, identified as Janssen by his jersey, is particularly venomous, and McCoy gives him a coldly furious look.

"Coach, what position does Janssen play?"

Smash cut to the same number on the team, but with MCCOY on the back. Sports montage, naturally, with MCCOY as star player, intercut with the occasional side-eyed look from a parent or onlooker whenever he does something a little too amazing.

Jen is the love interest of the movie. She's great.

Final game of the season. Crowds are roaring, full football Americana experience. MCCOY is in full swing, but we aren't seeing things from his perspective, we're seeing things from somewhere up in the bleachers - from some kind of scope. It zooms in hard on MCCOY, a finger tenses, squeezes - misses. Screaming, hysteria. The scope view panics as MCCOY comes charging towards it, and we zoom out to see Janssen as McCoy clambers up the side of the bleachers with unnatural ease.

They fight. McCoy knocks the rifle away, but he's a little too strong, and Janssen nearly falls over the edge, and it's quite the drop. McCoy grabs him and stops him from going over, but he can't use his other hand to hold on to the bleachers and Janssen at the same time. He knocks off his shoe, and we get our first look at an oversized foot that looks to be as dextrous as a hand. McCoy moves to use this odd limb to help Janssen up.

Janssen hisses. Says he'd rather die than get help from a filthy stinking mutant that crawls all over human girls like he's a real man. He smacks McCoy's hand away, drops. We don't see the impact, but McCoy does. His eyes widen. He yanks off the football helmet and throws up, staggering as he climbs back up, just in time for the officials to come storming in. He looks red-faced, shaking. He looks guilty.

We cut to the farm. The McCoy family are quiet, withdrawn - worried. The parents keep looking outside, where their son has taken to disassembling and reassembling every piece of farm equipment available to him, as if that's going to make him feel any better. Edna and Norton talk, and they feel guilty, Norton especially, about the legacy they've given poor Hank, as we pan up over the kitchen counter and see a newspaper headline exclaiming about the mutant panic taking over the nation.

A knock at the door. Norton looks pale, so Edna answers - to a man dressed like some kind of Conquistador, which he identifies himself as. He brings out a sword and seems to cast some form of electricity with it, striking down Edna and Norton, drawing their son back to the house with a speed that defies thought, and it's only this lightning sword that stops him from bowling the man over right there and then.

The Conquistador wants this young man, Hank, to do him a favour - use his father's ID card to steal some specific components from the nuclear power plant he works at. He looks basically identical to him, he shouldn't even be questioned. His sword twitches in the direction of Hank's parents, and his jaw sets. He agrees.

A short, tense sequence at the power plant. Hank does the deed, but it's dangerous and it goes wrong, the alarms are sounded - but he gets away. He escapes to a warehouse where his parents are being held by the Conquistador's men, and the man is raving, rambling.

Hank trounces them, effortlessly. It's superhuman to watch, and Edna and Norton are wide eyed as Hank frees them, all of them silent. Norton opens his mouth, apologises. Hank doesn't understand, apologising for what? Norton gestures at Hank's obviously overgrown hands and feet. For that. That's his fault. Hank's expression darkens, and Norton realises what he's said without thinking, and he looks to Edna, but she doesn't know what to say. Behind them, the Conquistador is getting back up, pulling up his sword, aiming it at Hank's back.

A ruby red beam comes out of nowhere, blasting it away, and Hank turns around, to see . . .

The Professor explains who he is. What the people with him are, what Hank is - a mutant. Hank already knows, and the Professor smiles a little, because of course Hank does. The conversation continues, and Hank is interested, intrigued, even - he keeps glancing back at his parents, but they look very uncertain, even as they do their best to give him smiles and make sure he knows they're okay.

"There will be sacrifices, Hank. This won't be an easy life. But it will be a worthy one."

Hank agrees, but before he walks off with Xavier and the other X-Men, he embraces his parents one more time. He's holding them tighter than they are him when he lets go.

The series then adapts some 60s X-Men, some First Class stories - I'd definitely want to pull in the story where Hank and Bobby first becomes friends during a vacation road trip across the US; the Unus the Untouchable arc, where Hank becomes a wrestler; a momentary flirtation with Jean Grey, before he realises who she's pretty much destined to end up with; the beatnik foot cult; Magneto.

Costumes change, villains go by, and Hank is enjoying himself, growing, but as he grows older, he seems less satisfied.

Especially since we find out that Xavier wiped Jen's mind, and she no longer remembers Hank. For their safety. Hank is. Not pleased. It's the first wedge between him and the Professor, and they paper over it, but. It sticks.

Towards the end of the series, he receives a letter in the mail, and when it comes time to do Danger Room exercises, he's conspicuously absent. Xavier is oddly reticent to talk to him, and instead suggests that Scott, Bobby, Warren and Jean talk to him instead. Hank is in his room, the letter in his hands, and seeming torn. They all talk.

Hank wants to leave the X-Men. The very concept shakes them a little - the last time this happened, Unus attacked and they were nearly defeated - but the newfound confidence of having done this for a few years now means that they understand why Hank wants to move on. Everyone's been thinking about it, actually, Hank's just the first one to have a place he wants to go to rather than just 'not the school.'

They embrace. Bobby in particular takes a little longer than everyone else to let go, and it's clear it's killing him a little that Hank is going, but he does let go.

The final scene of the series is Hank in civilian clothes saying his final goodbyes. There's not a dry eye in the house. Jean kisses him on the cheek, Bobby hugs him way too hard, Scott clasps his shoulder, Warren gives him a fistbump. The Professor shakes his hand. They're all sad to see him go, but this is for the best.

Hank gets into his car, and starts it up. He looks back at the Mansion, the X-Men, wistfully, thinking, for a moment, that he should stop and go back. But in the end, he puts the car in gear and drives. As he leaves the Mansion, he adjusts the rear view mirror.

For the audience, Hank is replaced by something wearing his clothes. Dark furred. Monstrous. Unfamiliar. Familiar. Yellow eyed.

End credits. End of the series.

To be continued.

I actually have no idea who I'd want to play a young Hank, I'm not as up to date on young actors as I'd like, but I've been recommended someone called Noah Centino for a 17-20 year old Hank, so, sure? Whoever they are, they need to be able to pull off Hank's distinctive Superman curl.

I'd definitely want an almost sort of 'The Incredibles' tone to the X-Men sections of this series, where it's all deathly dangerous but the X-Men almost don't seem to realise until they do. Michael Giacchino does the score, because the man can do no wrong.

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

i read a hannigram fic last night where op decided it was an okay thing to mention vatsyayana and my brain chemistry is fucked now.

[s0dium]

Fucking a curse

Choso x F!Reader

A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine a curse like Choso could give you the best orgasm of your life Warnings: Rough sex, intense orgasm

~ For a curse, Choso was strangely incredibly attractive. At least that was your first impression of him. His long black stringy hair, tied into two high ponytails that jutted upward and outward, and his small dark purple tired eyes, framed by slightly thin eyebrows, yes, from the moment you laid eyes on him you were smitten. But for someone so breathtaking, Choso's reserved nature served as a stark opposite to his striking appearance. He was fairly quiet, rarely speaking, and often seemed content to observe rather than participate. For a while, he barely seemed to acknowledge you outside of your relationship with Yuji and your crush on him looked painfully one-sided. As a curse, it was easy to assume that he didn't care about you, that your presence was just another detail in his world of silence and observation. it was only natural that you would assume he wanted nothing, or rather, knew, nothing about intimacy. So how... how did you get in this situation? "Hngh...." you whine. Everything was hot, too hot. You dizzily look up, breath catching as you see Choso face hovering above you. His dark brown hair clings to his sweat-dampened skin and his eyes gaze down upon you with such raw dirty need that you feel your stomach twist into knots and your pulse quicken.

You are about to say something, something about how hot you are when suddenly you feel Choso's cock head harshly plunge deep into your entrance, the tip pressing against a part of you that you could only dream about reaching with your fingers. The pleasure of the sudden intrusion is striking, numbing, and borderline painful. It makes you reel unconsciously reel back to escape the foreign feeling, but a large strong hand splays itself over your stomach, not only stopping you but applying delicious pressure above where his dick sat deeply in you. "Can't stay still can you?" Choso's voice comes out breathless, a failed attempt to mask how entirely aroused he is right now. He picks up the pace and leans down until his lips are against the nape of your neck. You whine when you feel soft kisses peppered all over your skin, a shockingly tender yet bold exploration; each nibble and kiss perfectly attuned to your responses, drawing you deeper into a state of blissful surrender. Your cunt flutters and clenches instinctively, sending even more bolts of hot ticklish pleasure to your core. You are too lost in the pleasure to notice that Choso had placed his hand under one of your thighs, lifting the leg until it's pressed against your chest. The new position allows him to go deeper, which you didn't even know was possible at this point.

"Ah- God, you feel like heaven Y/N" Choso groans and throws his head back. You could almost cum just by looking at Choso because god he looks almost ethereal as he thrusts into you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, each muscle in his abdomen tightening rhythmically with every thrust. His lips part slightly, revealing shallow, hurried breaths. The subtle bobbing of his Adam's apple accompanies each pant, his eyes tightly shut, lost in the throes of pleasure.

"I wannaaaa...." You can't even say the last word because you're afraid it might ruin how fucking euphoric you feel right now. If there was a heaven, being fucked by Choso was it. What was even happening right now? Where were you? You feel so much, you feel everything, everywhere, all in this moment, but your mind and your mouth have never been taught to name this sensation.

"Please, Jesus, please y/n do it." Hes almost whining at this point.

"Choso I'm-" You are not even able to finish the sentence because you are already climaxing on his dick. Choso's ministrations don't cease, in fact he speeds up, making the insanely euphoric wave of pleasure crash down on you even harder. Your mind is blank, your thighs are shaking and your back arches of the bed as Choso fucks you through the most pleasurable feeling you have ever experienced.

"Stay with me baby, we are not done yet."

[indecisivemuch]

Scandalous

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: The reveal of a scandalous detail about yours and Luke's relationship left you both flustered and everybody else gaping. Inspired by one line from So It Goes - Taylor Swift (fluff, established relationship).

Warning: allusions to sex, but no explicit details.

Word count: 2k

You and Luke have been going out for well over a year now. Yet, he never failed to make you feel like it would be an eternal honeymoon phase: whispers of sweet words about a lifetime’s worth of promises, delicate and sacred touches, looks filling in for unspoken words.

Loving Luke was as easy as having a daily routine - so natural and almost like a grounding thing from the life of a Demigod.

Currently, Luke was training with Percy. You were not too far away either, sparring with Clarisse. Despite the area being occupied by many other Demigods engaging in similar activities, Luke could not help but frequently glance over at you.

Luke has always been mesmerized by the way you combat, which he metaphorically compared to a ballerina. So precise, yet deadly. Every move was with intention and purpose. 

The way sweat glided down the side of your face, your cheeks flushed from fighting, eyes darting with strategy, heavy pants in between dodging and attacking your opponent, the smirk hinted on your face - all of it made Luke’s mind grow flustered. Somehow, he found everything you do attractive.

If he was honest, his mind seemed to be doing nothing lately but think of you, especially when you’re not beside him. The memories he has harvested over your time together only transformed his brain into a cinema, which constantly played montages of you. Every morning, he’d wake up from a dream about you to the sight of you in his arms - that is before he had to sneak out of your cabin back to his. You constantly occupy every cell in his mind, like an uncontainable virus spreading. Yet, for some reason, he was not scared. He welcomed this feeling with his whole arms wide open.

You broke eye contact with Clarisse to look at Luke. Almost instantly, your eyes melted into ones filled with adoration and his own eyes mirrored the same emotions - if not tenfold. 

You were absolutely enamored with how Luke looked at you. Even before dating each other, people have mentioned the eyes he was giving you. But being oblivious, you did not see what they were talking about. However, it all became clear when you started dating. You started noticing how he would look at you like you were a rare artwork he would most likely never see again or a shooting star - a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence kind of thing that left him in awe all the time. He would do it so endearingly as if it would help to absorb every detail of you and imprint them into his memory. His looks have always made you feel loved - like you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if he has not told you this verbally and through actions already. Usually, you’d feel slightly insecure if somebody was staring so intensely at you, but he did it in a way that made you feel like your flaws were created to be loved for. 

However, a gasp escaped your lips as Luke was showered by a wave of the ocean. Everybody else also drew their attention to the head of Hermes’ cabin and the newly claimed Poseidon kid.

When Luke looked back at Percy, he was faced with a sheepish grin.

“I had to get your attention somehow. I tried calling your name like ten times already,” Percy shrugged his shoulder with feigned innocence, but the glint of mischief told Luke that the kid was anything but feeling guilty about soaking him from head to toe. 

“Percy,” Luke groaned as he could feel the fabric of his clothes cling to his body. Percy bashfully chuckled and offered another sheepish look to the counselor who was meant to train him. 

The cool water did offer a temporary fix to the boiling summer heat. But mixing that with sweat, combat, and Luke's long-sleeved shirt underneath was disastrous. The Hermes boy sighed as he slowly took off the bright orange camp shirt. After struggling slightly, he managed to pull the shirt off from over his head. However, the gray shirt he was wearing underneath got pulled up more than slightly from the extra friction between wet fabrics, revealing the majority of his back to Percy and others. 

He did not think much of it until gasps - including yours - could be heard as this happened. Chris even whistled as he and everybody else spotted what Luke did not notice.

“What?” Luke asked as he pulled down his gray shirt and started wringing his camp t-shirt, trying to rid it from being as wet as possible. 

“Damn, did you get mauled by a minotaur or something?” Percy asked. 

Almost immediately, Luke paled at Percy’s words as he realized what the kid was talking about.

Indeed, as Luke’s gray shirt underneath got pulled up, which revealed the majority of his back, this had also put on display the scratches down his back left from nights that he spent with you. Some were evidently old and healing, as seen by how Luke’s skin was patching itself up and matching closer to his skin tone. Others were somewhat freshly red, while a few were like wounds being reopened. To make matters worse, they could spot the occasional crescent shape bruises that were indentations of your nails. 

Considering your guys’ relationship was not a secret, there was no room to deny it if somebody pointed fingers at you. You blushed as people now averted their eyes to you as if this was the most scandalous thing all year. Clarisse and Chris, on the other hand, were both smirking. 

The whole camp knew you were the one who left those scratches there, and you sincerely wish you could dig a hole to hide yourself from all the attention right now.

Luke’s eyes darted to you, and you offered him an awkward smile as your face grew a darker shade of red.

“No, seriously, dude, you gotta get it checked out at the infirmary. How did that even happen?” Percy only continued, somehow actually clueless about the cause of those marks. You could see Annabeth sending Percy a somewhat side-eye from nearby at his words while Grover let out a deep sigh. 

You started approaching the two, hoping you could intervene and save the both of you from this situation.

“Uhm…well,” Luke started, unsure how to even answer the kid or divert the attention elsewhere as his cheeks flushed and ears tinted pink from trying to ignore memories of what you two had done the night before.

The Hermes boy has jokingly sweet-talked you before on how he might walk out shirtless after one of your rendezvous to show off the marks you left on him. Never would you two think that that idea would ever happen like this.

“Yeah, I reckon you should get that checked out,” you decided to say as you reached Luke, settling your hand on Luke’s lower back and greeting Percy. “Thank you for worrying about him.”

“Yeah, no problem. I mean, it must have been quite a minotaur to land that much of a number on him,” Percy somehow carried on and was utterly oblivious to Clarisse and Chris, who almost bursted out laughing at his latest comment. You, on the other hand, squinted your eyes at the kid. You turned to Luke and you could see it in his eyes that the boy was on the verge of laughing as well. You were sure he would have done so if it were not for your glare.

“Well, we best go heal those wounds now, right Luke?” you gave your boyfriend a look, hoping he would get the message to play along.

“Right,” he agreed almost instantly. 

“Alright, bye, Percy,” you hastily spoke, before dragging Luke by his hand away from everybody's eyes.

“Bye guys,” you could hear the kid’s voice as the both of you retreated. It felt like a walk of shame as the semi-crowd parted ways for you two to leave the scene. You immediately let out a deep breath as soon as nobody was near anymore.

“Gods, that was so embarrassing. The kid basically repeatedly called me a minotaur.”

“I mean…you can be my minotaur?” Luke cheekily jested, trying to tease you a bit more over the situation.

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re not making that a thing. No, absolutely not are you ever gonna make that a nickname,” Luke only laughed at your reaction before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into a hug. As he did so, you wrapped both your arms around his waist, face colliding with his chest the way it would usually do when you guys cuddle. He gave you a few peppered kisses on your forehead, close to your hairline. 

“They’re never gonna let us live that down, will they?” You asked after letting out a muffled groan against his chest.

“Nope,” Luke admitted. Despite the Hermes boy usually easing away your worries, even he knew this would be the talk around camp for a while. Nevertheless, he unwrapped his arms around you and cupped your face with both hands. Using his callus-filled hands, yet gentle touch, he soothed your furrowed eyebrows by rubbing over them to urge you from scowling.

“But…you know what? I’m kind of glad this happened. Sure, it might be awkward and a tad bit embarrassing. But now, they finally get to see how lucky I am to have been given a chance by such a gorgeous and sweet Demigod. And…” he paused, giving you a quick kiss. “This way, any guy potentially still after you know to keep their hands off.” He cheekily winked at you after saying so. 

Gods, you remember how jealous Luke would get before you were together. It was lowkey hot to see him so riled up. Though, after the both of you got together, you have always reassured him that you had eyes on him and only him. 

“I guess that also means any girls still thinking they could steal you from me would know they have no chance?” you questioned, smiling ear to ear when he nodded eagerly at your words.

“Exactly. That’s a win-win in my book. I’m not embarrassed they saw what you left on me. They could talk for all I care. So stop worrying, or else you’ll start getting wrinkles,” he lightly flicked the area between your furrowed eyebrows. As you were about to complain, he quickly kissed you right where he previously flicked you, and that immediately melted away any bit of feigned irritation you had with him. He chuckled at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows untangling itself.

“Thank you,” you muttered, showing your gratitude towards Luke. 

If Luke had a superpower, it would probably be calming you down. He has always managed to tame your emotions whenever they were drowning you. He was like an anchor to you, always grounded you during chaotic times. Sometimes, you wonder how you got so lucky. 

You peered up at him sweetly, and the look alone made him lean down to capture your lips with his again. You chuckled at his action and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was leaving on your lips. Your hands started playing with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He let out a content sigh while still showing your lips just how much he loved them and you. However, he abruptly pulled away before dropping a question. 

“Are we really going to the infirmary?” Luke hesitantly asked, bringing up your words from earlier. He watched as you gave him an amused look.

“What did you think?” As soon as his eyes met yours, he knew exactly what you wanted. He gave you a sheepish grin before the two of you quietly giggled to each other before walking further away from the training grounds.

Let's just say you two did not follow through with your words of going to the infirmary, and neither were you tending to his “wounds”.

——————————

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan tag list

[ybklix]

playing with his hair

giirrrl idk, a feral thought maybe; bf!felix x fem!reader w his long hair since i’m too lazy to make it a whole detail fic for now lol so, (i deadass tried to make it a drabble but it pass the 1k words😮‍💨)

genre - warnings: smut, fluff!! dry humping, handjob, grinding, unprotected piv, mention of cockwarming, idol bf felix btw

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is what i have to deal with everyday, actually, oopsies, he’s next to me rn! also writing in present it’s so new, I like to read it when yall write like that, but I’ll stick with past tense😁 edit: girl i had this in the drafts for days, but he was a little too happy in his recent promoting video, he’s sleeping outside, someone pick him up /jk srly pls

Felix likes to try new hairstyles ever since he let grow his hair, he feels very confident with it and likes the way you randomly stroke it every time you’re together.

Your idea of fun is one of those very rare free afternoons for him since he’s all the time busy at work; it’s when you’re just chilling together at your place because you feel too lazy to go out but very comfortable with each other’s company.

Your days are simple, and your hours with him are very limited but he always makes sure to enjoy being with him; so you try to do everything at once, watch a movie, talk, lay on his chest while he’s playing games on his cell phone… and suddenly, just playing around, with you sitting on his lap in front of him, giggling while playing with his hair.

“Fuck, your hair is so fried” you tease him with a smile, looking at your fingers entangling with his straight hair.

He pouts, “Stop, then don’t touch it…” he responds also joking, just watching you with heart and sparkling eyes.

Felix rests his hands on your tights and caresses them softly. You down your gaze to meet his, he’s suddenly looking at you so sweetly that makes your cheeks get a little warm.

“Can I play with it?” you asked joyfully.

“With what?”

“Your hair” you replied in an obvious tone, “I can do pigtails, braids, middle part, side part” you continue to say, laughing while playing with his hair.

Felix chuckles softly, completely in love, closing his eyes sometimes, then looking up at your arms.

“Wait here” you speak again, standing up from his lap and going to get a comb, hair ties, bobby pins and some random hair clips to take pictures of him just for fun.

“You can also do my make-up if you want” he comments, raising his thick voice so you can hear him.

You sit back down on his lap.

“Oh no, you wear makeup almost every day, let your face rest today” you answer, kissing him tenderly on the bridge of his nose, hiding a little bit the fact that you love seeing your boyfriend’s bare face, straight black eyelashes, big dark eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose with freckles all over.

You laugh at doing whatever you want with his hair, taking silly pictures every time you find him adorable, just giggling saying your favorite inside jokes, then ending with a bow on his hair.

“You can really use me, huh” Felix says, giving you a funny but adorable look with his eyes wide open.

Felix starts caressing your back, with more consistent and intense caresses and he suddenly realizes how you haven’t kissed each other on the lips the whole time, so he moves closer to you and you without hesitation receive his kiss, following a tender and slow rhythm at first, pressing your lips together in a delicate lip rubbing, but you’re a bit desperate when it comes to each other, so your boyfriend catches his breath between kisses and looks himself at the work of being more glued and pouncing on you, with his touches all over your body, from your thighs to your back, slipping his hands under your blouse to feel your bare skin.

Your make out starts to heat up precipitously that you can feel the growing erection in his shorts, so, with your hands wrapped around his neck, you begin to move over his cock, pressing it to your core and stimulating you both. At this point, your pussy is throbbing and you feel slightly heated. You’re always impressed by how incredibly fast you want and desire him. You both moan softly at the friction. As you pull apart you smile slightly mischievously at him and for some reason you start kissing his neck, which Felix loves so, causing him to give you a huge tender smile showing his teeth, clutching his grip on your hips tighter.

You pull away once more to meet the wide grin on his face, which gently turns into a slightly strained expression as you continue to move your body against his erection, Felix gasps, his lips forming a soft expression of satisfaction this time with his submissive facing enjoying the naughty act of crushing his cock with your center, with your clothes on.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so good” Felix sighs, biting his slightly swollen, full lips, lowering his gaze to your pussy being trapped in him, moving his erection back and forth, guiding your hips for better movement.

You smile satisfactorily at him in response, each time feeling the heat of your body and pussy brush against your panties, wetting them all over, just playing more with your arousal. You see him, he looks so fucking cute and yet so hot with the last few hairstyles you gave him, two little high ponytails with bows leaving the rest of his hair loose, he looked silly cute, but serious manly moans coming out of him contrasts somehow so perfectly.

Felix sighs again sonorously, his legs shaking a little, he doesn’t think he can take it long enough without cumming if you keep moving so dedicatedly on him so he speaks again:

“Mmm, c’mon baby, take off your clothes, or do you want me to take you to bed.”

A pleasant shock goes through your body as you hear him a little more needy, you’re not thinking straight and you don’t want to pull away from him so you just reply a simple, “It’s okay like this, Lix.”

With your heart beating fast you grab his shorts, indicating you want to pull them down, Felix helps you right away, releasing his pink, needy, throbbing cock, you look down at his member and then at the same time you join gazes, Felix looks at you so needy and innocent, his big eyes begging you to touch him, you can’t help but melt every time he does that and in a needy sigh, with your cheeks a little red, you stand up, embarrassed, pulling down your comfy cloth shorts along with your panties, climbing back onto his lap, catching your boyfriend licking his lips at the sight of your cute bare mons venus.

Felix smiles, so excited at the thought of feeling you on him again, now with the sensation of your warm wet center in him, he gets more excited at the thought that you were finally going to settle on him ready to fuck, however, you start pumping his entire erect length, making him gasp loudly as he throws his head back, marking his bulging Adam's apple in his throat. Felix returns to his posture, looking straight into you with desire, biting his lip as you with a smile, touch all over his cock, stroking his tip gently with your fingers, feeling his stiffness and the slight sticky precum sliding down your hand as you jerk him off.

You’re so wet, and Felix is getting over the edge, so you finally accommodate your body, squeezing your pussy tighter on his cock, grinding on it a little before you put his cock inside you, encouraging in him more arousal if that was possible, teasing him and you at the sensation of his dick rub between your labia, until you feel his throbbing member so foreplayed, and until you see your boyfriend’s sweet expression as he can’t resist anymore and, finally you insert his rigid manhood completely in you. The temperature of both your bodies rises, it feels so fucking good to be filled by him, every move you make comes out of pure bliss, panting, sliding on his cock in a rhythm that makes him shudder and moan; Felix feels every part of his body beat intensely, enjoying every thrust into him.

“Oh, fuck, l-ove, ke-keep going please, I’m gonna cum, fuuck” he whimpers, desperate in a high-pitched tone, closing his eyes.

Felix thinks about the idea of cumming all of him inside you, of filling you up, brings him to a better ecstasy and in a thick sigh of relief and satisfaction, he manages to cum, relaxing a bit all the tension built in his body, making his thighs restless in soft tingling and trembling. You rest your hands on his shoulders and hide your face on the side of his neck, moaning close to his ear and with your face brushing against his soft hair, gently overwhelming you with his sweet scent, you bite your lip at the sensation of his hot semen shooting inside you and you also sense you’re so close to your climax that, despite being slightly tired, you intensify and increase each movement, sliding a little more slippery as you are filled with his cum. You hug him without thinking, your walls squeeze his sensitive cock still stuck in your core, you’re climaxing so intensely that you open your mouth almost in an inaudible squeal, your vision blurs for a few seconds and you let yourself release completely onto your boyfriend.

You feel the joining of agitated chests and breaths, Felix hug you warmly wrapping your back, once again your body melts at the slightest touch of his, but you can’t help but feel him so close to you, acting tenderly. Felix doesn’t even have to say it, but you know he loves you, you feel it too, so you relax your body on top of him, stroke his hair and he gives you a soft kiss on your shoulder as he caresses your back and keeps you in such a vulnerable position with both sexes together, with you on top of him until you decide to move.

——————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk

[jinwoosungs]

08/13/24; 06:35pm

{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }

[ morning sex with them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ warnings: somnophilia for xavier’s ]

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

when morning came, you could feel the sunlight streaming through the curtains, painting your bedroom in brilliant hues of color. yet it wasn't the bright intensity of the light that ends up rousing you from your slumber, oh no-

it was the sensation of sylus's cock felt rutting against your inner thighs, his morning wood already straining against the front of his boxers. you end up moaning in response to such an intimate friction, eyes going blurry as you tried to meet with his gaze.

"s-sylus..."

“morning, sweetie.” his voice becomes thicker with passion, feeling the way he moves his large hands to the back of your thighs, spreading your legs wide open for him. he hums, playing with the edge of your panties before sliding a thick finger within your entrance, earning a gasp from you.

“again?” you whine, recalling the sheer amount of times he had taken you last night. you were already burying your face within the plush pillows as sylus worked on thrusting his finger in and out of your slick heat, preparing you for what was to come.

“what can i say, kitten… you bring out the beast in me.” sylus proceeds to remove his fingers from your wet heat, pulling your body closer to him. he continues to hold you against his broad chest, playing the big spoon all while slowly sliding down the waistband of his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free before sliding his erection up and down your silky thighs. while giving your ass a hard slap!, he manages to find your opening before thrusting his cock deep inside of you.

your loud moans echo throughout the room, with the bed creaking in response to his passionate movements against you, making you lose all train of thought as you allowed sylus to fill you over and over again.

dawn had barely set across the skies when you woke up from a startling dream. in it, zayne had let you act out all of your deepest fantasies on him, and although you couldn’t remember each specific detail-

you still felt the ache between your legs, serving as the sole evidence of your heated dreams.

biting down on your bottom lip, your throat becomes dry the moment you trail your eyes to see zayne still sleeping peacefully next to you. the sheets were barely hanging on to his form as you could see the hard line of muscles and faint scars that decorate his pale skin.

letting out a deep breath, you inch yourself closer to him, purposely laying across his body. your lips were already latched onto him, pressing butterfly kisses all across his skin. your gentle touches manages to rouse him from his slumber as he opens his eyes to look at you. your name was spoken from his parted lips in a reverent whisper, saying your name like it was some well kept secret that was meant to be cherished.

swallowing your dignity, you slowly shimmy your way out of your now drenched panties, placing the palm of your hand against his half-hardened cock settled beneath the sheets. “i need you… so… may i take you?”

a sleepy chuckle was heard coming from zayne. “ask… and you shall receive.”

your lover allows you to slide the sheets off of his body, revealing the entirety of his nakedness to you, his cock already standing at full attention. biting back a moan, you slowly got on top of him, purposely straddling his cock as you ran your cunt up and down the length of his erection.

zayne’s soft grunts and groans of your name pushes you over the edge, with you lifting yourself off of him as you grabbed a hold of his cock. giving it another stroke, you held it within your grip before sliding down on him, not stopping until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“hng!” just hearing zayne’s grunts was enough to get your blood boiling as you proceeded to bounce up and down his length, never once stopping until you were drunk off the sheer amount of pleasure he had given you.

xavier was relentless this morning, unable to contain himself when he saw the way you were resting so peacefully while dressed in nothing but a sheer nightie.

wanting nothing more than to have you wake up with the sensation of his mouth on your cunt, xavier plants himself between your thighs, spreading them wider on the bed for him. noticing the way your panties already had a dark stain against them makes the young hunter let out a guttural groan in response.

pushing up the skirt of your nightgown, xavier grips at the waistband of your panties and slides it off of you in, one swift motion. with your slick heat bare for only his eyes to see, xavier wastes no time when he surges forward and places his lips over the entirety of your sex. his tongue laps up your honeyed arousal, devouring you like a man starved. as if addicted to there mere taste of you, he buries himself even deeper inside of you, tongue tracing at your pussy lips before working on drinking up all that you had to offer.

you finally woke up the moment he makes you cum into his mouth, making xavier feel the onslaught of your arousal coating at his lips. hearing you gasp, you finally open your eyes and place your hands within his golden strands of hair.

“oh my god… i thought i was having a sweet dream… fuck-“

xavier smirks against your slick heat, placing one last kiss against it before leaning up. he lights a trail of heated kisses up your body and gazes at you with dilated eyes. xavier states your name in a gruff manner before grabbing at your chin, leaning down to give you a searing kiss all while whispering, “be prepared, since your dreams are about to get so much sweeter.”

with those words serving as his final warning, xavier shifts the fabric of his boxers, revealing his cock briefly before thrusting himself into you, sheathing himself to the hilt as he desperately pistons his hips in and out of you, taking complete control of all your senses.

when rafayel had convinced you to enjoy a nice and warm morning bath with him, you had every intention of simply relaxing with him-

yet the sounds of skin meeting with skin coupled along with the squelching sounds that served as evidence of your copulation was anything but relaxing. your body was felt burning up with pleasure, your hips slamming down on rafayel’s cock as he met you with his own upward thrusts. both of your movements were filled with an urgency of two lovers who needed to reach their completion together.

“you fit me… so well… almost too well.” rafayel admits to you in a grunt, feeling your hips rolling against his, trapping his cock within your sweet walls. the sensation of your slick heat being wrapped so tightly around him was enough to make the artist slump back against the tub. he was unable to speak any further, losing all of his senses as he watches you bouncing up and down on his cock with a hazy expression.

not even caring about the water that spills over the porcelain tub, and you began to whine when you felt your release quickly approaching. “r-rafe… i’m so close… sosososososo close…!”

hearing the desperation in your voice, he surges forward, hands already wrapping themselves around your naked waist as he helped with speeding up your bounces up and down his length. “come on, my love, let yourself go for me… surround me in your heat so that i may forever burn this moment into my memories.”

letting out a high pitched moan, you dig your nails into rafayel’s shoulders, spilling yourself down the length of his cock as you came. stars fill your vision when the lemurian stills his hips and remains completely buried within your searing heat, spilling his seed deep inside of you as you land against his chest in response.

your breathing was heavy, and you were unable to move due to how intense your lovemaking was with rafayel. the bath water had long since gone lukewarm, yet neither one of you seemed to care. with your naked breasts still pressed against his chest, rafayel wraps his arms around your back, pressing you even closer to him.

“let’s just rest… for a moment…” you hear your lover let out a yawn, and you could only manage a hum in agreement. allowing the exhaustion to take over, you shut your eyes and let the memory of the pleasure you experienced just moments ago to serve as a gateway to the land of sweet dreams…

end notes: i’ve been feeling thirsty for all the lads men and decided to write a drabble for all of them (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[misc-obeyme]

Demon Brothers as Doms Headcanons

Here it is, as requested by anon! I don't know if these are better or worse than the demon bros as subs version... I honestly can't tell lol. But hopefully you guys enjoy them. I will be doing the side characters, too, so stay tuned for that.

GN!MC x the demon brothers

Side Characters as Doms Bros as Subs

NSFW MDNI

Note: We got another paragraph of warnings. Some of them are a little more detailed, but most of them are just mentioned.

Warnings: Sub!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, multiple orgasms, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, manhandling, begging, praise, degradation, dirty talk, spanking, collars, dacryphilia, tailfucking (and related tail stuff), drooling, jealousy, cockwarming, mirror sex, exhibitionism, toys, aphrodisiacs, magic stuff, blood kink, biting, size kink, food play, somnophilia, wet dreams, semi-public sex, after care, cuddling, and kissing. HOO BOY. I hope that's all of it, if not lemme know and I'll add stuff.

Lucifer

He has intense dom vibes and he knows it. He will be strict and harsh with you if that’s what you want, but if left to his own choices, Lucifer becomes a pleasure dom. All he really wants is to make you come over and over and over again. He doesn’t care what it takes, he’ll use his cock, his fingers, his tongue, anything and everything as long as it makes you cry out his name in ecstasy. He likes the way it makes his pride swell.

He’s a strong and powerful demon. If he wants you in a certain position, he will put you there himself. He has no problem manhandling you a little, but he’ll be careful about it. He very much enjoys tying you up and he’s a master at shibari. His other favorite thing is blindfolding you. He likes when you aren’t aware of when he’s going to touch you.

Lucifer is absolutely the type of demon that will do subtle things outside of the bedroom to make you crazy. A hand on the back of your neck, a brief squeezing of your arm, a whispered “behave” or even just a look that says everything. They’re all warnings - be careful, MC, or he’ll be dealing with you later in private.

He likes to be called sir, but he’s willing to discuss other options. He’s very bossy, though, and will give you orders constantly. If you’re good and compliant, he’ll reward you to the point where you’ll probably forget your own name. But if you’re a brat, he won’t hesitate to punish you. He likes to make you wait, so he might tie you up in his office and then not touch you while he works on his stacks of paperwork. He wants to see how long it takes you to start begging.

And begging does him in every time. Because the minute you break down and beg for him, his pride takes over. He’ll smirk and likely tease you and say something about how he’s not surprised that it didn’t take long.

But in the end, Lucifer likes to make you moan and cry and come, which means he’ll do whatever it takes to get you to do that. Do you have a praise kink? He will shower you with it while he’s deep inside you. Do you have a degradation kink? He will make a point of finding the words that make you clench around him in pleasure.

Mammon

Surprisingly good at being a dom, but far less restrained than Lucifer is. He’s going to do all kinds of things to get a reaction out of you, but the second you moan his name, he’s moaning right along with you. But not before he takes the time to get your full consent and makes sure you know all your safe words. He wants to go all out, but he wants you to feel safe with him.

Mammon is a bit too impatient to do things like tying you up intricately. He’s going to go for things like handcuffs or gags. He finds he likes the way you moan low in your throat when your mouth is otherwise occupied. Similarly, he loves when you suck on his fingers. He’ll remove them sooner than he expected, though, because he wants to listen to you beg.

He’s cautious at first, giving you easy orders to test the waters. If you’re generally obedient, he’ll push a little harder, go a little further, see just how much you can take. He will absolutely become a brat tamer, though, so if you’re more inclined to mouth off, you can expect swift punishment. He can’t take too much disobedience and he’ll get impatient with you quickly. Punishments can range from spankings to orgasm denial depending on how irritated he is. But they don’t last long because he just really wants to fuck you silly.

He’s constantly buying you things to wear. He obviously has a preference for gold, but whatever he just likes to see you on display in something nice. If you’ll wear a collar, he will absolutely be thrilled to buy you the nicest one he can find. It makes him a little crazy any time he catches a glimpse of it outside the bedroom.

The King of After Care. When things are calm again, he gets very clingy. He’s going to want to cuddle you all night, whispering in your ear about how good you were for him, asking you if you’re doing all right. If you endured punishment or any kind of pain, he’ll make sure you’re recovering from it. He just loves you so much, MC.

Leviathan

Surprises both you and himself by being a really good dom. It’s like he flips a switch and suddenly he’s all confidence, but it’s only possible with you. However, it can also get really intense really fast and he might not realize how far he’s going. Communication is key with Levi. You need it to even get him to start being more dominant to begin with, but then you also need it when he’s a little lost in the sauce.

Because he finds that dominating you makes him lose his whole mind. When you’re whimpering or begging, he just wants more and more. He loves to hear you whine his name. He likes it when you cry, so he will try to make it happen. He’ll use pain or insults or anything else he can find that will work. But if it does happen, he’ll get soft when he sees the tears on your cheeks. Then he’ll start praising you and telling you how perfect you are and how much he loves you.

He likes to use his tail for all kinds of things. He’ll wrap it around your body, pinning your arms to your sides, and put the tip of it in your mouth until you’re drooling around it. He’ll use it to spank you if he thinks you’re in need of punishment. But his favorite thing is just to fuck you with it.

To nobody’s surprise at all, Levi is a jealous dom. If you so much as look at someone else, he will notice and make you pay for it later. His favorite punishment method is orgasm denial. He’s trying to make you forget about anyone but him and he’ll ask you while he’s edging you who you’re thinking of. He wants to hear you cry and tell him that he’s the only one you ever think about.

Levi will definitely start out with degradation and some dirty talk - he’s likely going to tell you how much of a whore you are for him - but by the end of things, he’ll switch to praise. He starts to come out of dom mode and then he actually feels bad. Depending on how you react, he will likely apologize before pampering you to make up for all the nasty things he said. If you laugh at him about it, he’ll just blush. He gets embarrassed about how much he can lose himself. Don’t hold it against him, MC! He’s just obsessed with you.

Satan

By far the most balanced dom of all the brothers. He’s always so careful about keeping his wrath under control, the very last thing he would ever want to do is give in to it during a scene with you. It’s a tricky balance, but he manages to find a good middle ground. He focuses on you the most, but don’t think that means he’ll be lenient with you.

Satan is really good at interpreting how you’re feeling in the moment based on how you react to him. He’s able to tell when he should get more intense and when he should back off. As for himself, he prefers to control you with words. He’ll tie you up if you want him to, but he’s more interested in simply telling you what to do. And he’s clear about what will happen if you disobey.

Although he’s careful about keeping himself level headed when he’s punishing you, just know that he won’t hold back. There really isn’t any kind of punishment he isn’t willing to employ and he’ll find the one that has the most impact on you while still getting his message across.

Definitely prefers praise over degradation. He will be rambling the whole time he’s doing anything with you and it’s all romantic poetry. It starts out really flowery, but eventually kind of devolves into how perfect you are, how good you feel, etc. This is the guy who will spank you and recite sonnets to you at the same time, probably timing his swats with the iambic pentameter.

Satan also really enjoys cockwarming. He’ll have you sit in his lap while he reads, just to see how much you can take. Scolds you gently any time you move too much. Be good and hold still for him, MC. In the end, he’s the one who can’t take it, but he frames it as taking pity on you. You’re both probably aware of the truth, but neither of you will say anything. And anyway, you’re content to let him bend you over and pound into you if it means finally feeling that sweet relief.

Asmodeus

The most versatile of doms, he can be anything you want. You want him strict? Done. You prefer a soft dom? Easy. You just want him to make you come as many times as possible? It would be his pleasure.

If you’re too shy to tell him what you want, that’s okay, too. He’s able to feel out what will make you react the most. And that’s what he goes for. He just wants to experience you losing your mind over him.

He really can do it all, but he’s also going to bring his own flare to the situation. You have sooo much mirror sex. If you’re willing to try exhibitionism, he will really push the limits of that, too.

Asmo will also have a lot of toys, accessories, and clothing items. He’s always suggesting something new and interesting. You just won't believe what he found, MC! He likes to explore with you, to see what you’ll tolerate. This also includes things like aphrodisiacs or magic related things. He’ll always take care of you after you use something like that, but he’s often finding new things to try.

If you don’t really give him any guidelines and let him run the show entirely, he will step up to the challenge. It turns out he really enjoys making you submit to him. He finds he has a fascination with your blood. He loves the way it looks against your skin. He also loves to see it on his own lips, so you can be sure he’ll be drawing it by biting you.

Asmo really loves to tie you up and have his way with you. He enjoys sensory deprivation - blindfold, gag, etc. - he likes to keep you guessing. He wants you to react to his touch the most, loves the way you shiver in anticipation of what he’ll do next.

Mixes pleasure and pain so effectively, you almost can’t tell which one you’re experiencing. He’ll be using his fingers masterfully on your sensitive spots at the same time that he’ll be digging his nails into your back.

This is his area of expertise, so there’s no way he’s going to let you go with only one orgasm. He’s going to make sure you have multiple before he's done with you. He loves overstimulation. If you start crying, he’ll coo at you and wipe your tears, but he won’t stop.

Always doms in demon form. He can’t help it, he’s fully embodying his sin. No matter what he’s doing with you, he wants you to remember that you’re being dominated by the Avatar of Lust.

Beelzebub

The softest of soft doms. He’s not really into degradation, so he’s going to shower you with praise instead. He’s just going to mumble into your skin about how amazing you are and how lucky he is and so on and so forth. But don’t think that makes him a pushover.

Beel is a big strong demon and he will manhandle you. Probably his favorite thing is to just sit you in his lap and move you himself. You’re riding him, but he’s doing all the work.

He’ll tie you up if you want him to, but he’s more likely to use things like blindfolds or gags. Only one at a time, he doesn’t want you completely helpless. He secretly likes it when you struggle against him, so he likes to keep your hands free.

Beel has a bit of a size kink where he likes his partners smaller than him, which works out because he’s just generally much larger than most people. Even if you’re larger for a human, that’s still just a lil cutie to him. This kinda ties into the manhandling thing - he likes to pick you up and move you around himself. And he can do it, too, because of his size and strength. You might as well get used to it at this point.

He doesn't really enjoy inflicting pain. He's far more likely to use positive reinforcement than punishments. But if he has to get serious with you, it's going to be stuff like edging, orgasm denial, or overstimulation. If you're crying it's because of how he's making you feel, not because he's hurting you or insulting you. He finds it's just as effective, too.

If you ask, Beel will do pretty much anything you want. He'll work through the discomfort of hurting you if you enjoy it.

As always, Beel loves food. He'll involve any kind of food play he possibly can because he really can't help himself. It's like the ultimate expression of his sin - to involve food in these intimate moments with you.

Another one who will be incredibly attentive during after care. He wants to make sure you're okay. He will stay beside you as long as you need him. Probably brings you drinks and snacks, too. He's already been praising you all night, but prepare yourself for even more. You are everything to him, MC.

Belphegor

Kinda lazy for a dom, to nobody’s great surprise. He enjoys being one, but he tires out quickly. If he can make you do all the work, he will. Expect him to give you a lot of orders.

He really loves when you beg. He wants to see you on your knees and if you beg enough, he’ll fill your mouth with his cock. You look so good, MC.

He’ll leave you tied up and unattended, too. He’ll just sit there and watch you, see how much you can handle before he does anything.

Belphie is, of course, into somnophilia. If you give him the go ahead, it’s going to be any time he wakes up with you in his arms. If you’re still sleeping soundly, he wants you to stay asleep, he’ll just take care of things himself. But if you do wake up, he'll probably whisper quietly in your ear about how he's just making all your wet dreams come true. In fact, we also know Belphie can go into dreams, so… you can expect your normal dreams to become wet dreams if he shows up.

He likes exhibitionism and semi-public sex. He likes fucking you in places where you’re right next to other people, but you’re still trying to stay hidden. So he’ll use his hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle your noises. But it’s only because he likes the way it feels to gag you that way. He doesn’t actually mind if you’re discovered.

He likes dirty talk and degradation. He will absolutely call you all kinds of filthy names. It’s not all like that, though, he’ll also throw in some praise. Especially when you’re whimpering beneath him and he's losing control because he feels so good. That's when he starts telling you how good you are.

Belphie is kind of an after care guy by default. After he's had his way with you, even if he was really rough (which he probably was), he just wants to snuggle and cuddle and sleep. He'll also kiss you slowly and softly and lazily because he likes the way your lips feel.

side characters as doms | bros as subs | side characters as subs masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[godsfavdarling]

watching him

part of him (one-shot series), my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader summary: You help Spencer wash his curls properly. words: 1,2k warnings: most self indulgent fluff you have ever read, nudity/bathing together, maybe a bit suggestive but still sfw, no y/n a/n: I was in the shower and famously I have the same hair type and color as mgg and we would absolutely share our routine.

Spencer's head tilted toward you, giving you better access to his tangled brown strands. 

Your fingers, maybe a bit too roughly, moved through his scalp, detangling with a kind of focused care you hadn’t realized you were capable of.

You sat facing each other in the cramped bathroom, your legs tucked on either side of his while his stretched out around you, creating a tight but strangely comfortable space between you.

You couldn't help but watch him intently. 

With his eyes closed, unaware of your gaze, he looked almost ethereal—peaceful in a way you rarely got to see. 

His wet curls framed his face, softening his features, and the dim light of the bathroom made him look even more serene. 

There was something mesmerizing about watching him like this, when he couldn't catch you staring, when he couldn't see the way you studied every detail.

He looked so pretty, so effortlessly beautiful, that you let yourself indulge, longer than you should, in the quiet act of watching him.

“This smells nice,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut to shield them from your movements and the severe foam you created. His voice was soft, almost drowsy. 

He didn’t say anything more, but you caught the faintest hint of pleasure in his tone. 

Maybe he enjoyed this. Maybe he liked having his hair tugged. You made a mental note of that.

“I don’t really like this one much,” you admitted, scrunching your nose at the scent as you continued working the product through his hair.

“Really?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. His eyes remained closed, but the slight upward tilt of his head suggested curiosity.

“Yeah. It’s too intense. I liked it at first, but now it’s overwhelming.”

“I still like it. It smells like you,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

Not water related heat rushed through your body. 

You suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were. 

You resumed your careful work on his curls, trying to focus, but it wasn’t easy.

You never thought you’d enjoy this so much. You hated washing your own hair, but washing his? It felt like a sweet dessert, a perfect indulgence after the cozy dinner you’d shared on the couch.

Your thighs kept brushing against his in the tight confines of the tub, sending a slow, torturous fever through your veins.

As if that weren’t enough, his hands found your knees at some point, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. 

He wasn’t making your task any easier.

You fought to keep your breath steady, your heart from racing out of control. You tried to play it cool, as if having him this close, this intimate, wasn’t driving you to the edge.

Is this what it felt like? 

Is this how you know the bond with him is real? Maybe it wasn't an accident after all. 

You've felt like you dreamed Spencer into existence, like he stepped out of the picture you'd been painting in your mind since childhood. 

You felt like you dreamed him up .

And one day, there he was—alive, right in front of you, as if he'd always been meant to be.

And now you were squeezed together in your tiny bathtub on a Friday night, showing him how to take care of his curls. 

“Okay, I’m going to rinse out the shampoo now. Don’t open your eyes,” you warned.

“They’re still closed,” he assured, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

You carefully worked the water through his hair, rinsing away the foam while your fingers combed through his curls. You realized you might’ve been a little rougher than necessary. You gently squeezed the excess water from his hair.

“You have to get rid of the water like this,” you explained, gathering his hair and squeezing it upward in small sections. “Don’t straighten it out, just squeeze it up. Does that make sense?”

“I get it,” he said, his voice laced with quiet trust.

“You could do more complicated stuff, but your hair’s pretty gentle, so I think just shampoo and conditioner for curly hair will do the trick. Just... don’t brush it when it’s dry, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, nodding slightly.

“You only brush it when it’s really, really wet. Now for the conditioner.” You took the bottle and squeezed out what you deemed the right amount, showing it to him. “This should be enough.”

He nodded again, his head still hanging, eyes shut as the water ran over him. You carefully worked the conditioner into his hair. 

“You can brush through it if you need to, but don’t put any on your scalp. This one doesn’t need time to soak in, so we can rinse it right away.”

You gently massaged the conditioner through his curls before turning on the water again, running your fingers through his hair to ensure all the product was rinsed out.

You turned the water off and squeezed the excess water from his hair one last time.

Gently, you lifted his head, tugging it upward, and carefully pushed his damp curls away from his pretty face. 

As you brushed the hair from his forehead, his eyes blinked open, still sensitive to the bright bathroom light. 

His lashes were damp, and he rubbed at his eyes, finally releasing his hold on your knees. 

For a moment, you both just looked at each other.

There you were.

Both naked.

Taking care of each other.

What kind of dream was this?

Before you got to dwell on your life more Spencer broke the silence. 

“Now, my turn,” he said, his voice still soft but now filled with a teasing certainty.

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m going to wash your hair,” he clarified, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

There was even more warmth in his eyes than usual and a quiet determination you weren’t sure you could say no to.

“Spence, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” he said, already shifting in the tub to give himself a bit more space, motioning for you to turn around. “But I want to.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of letting him touch you in such a way—this close, this tender—sending a flutter of nervous excitement through your chest. 

“Okay,” you murmured as you turned around. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle facing him now that his eyes were open.

You couldn’t take the way he looked at you. It felt too soft and too loving sometimes.

What did you do to deserve this? To deserve him?

For the sake of your own sanity, you shifted your focus to counting the tiles, letting the numbers steady your racing thoughts of him.

So close. So visible in the bathroom lighting.

His hands found their way to your shoulders first, steady and reassuring, before sliding up to your head. 

His fingers, surprisingly deft, massaged your scalp with slow, deliberate movements, while his other hand held the showerhead, gently wetting your hair. 

You hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel, how effortlessly the tension in your body would melt away under his careful touch.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to him. Letting him watch you.

[malewifesband]

i see it often that people do not see laios liking kabru, but in reality laios does like kabru! quite a lot for a guy that (from his perspective) he just met! laios forgetting kabrus exact name is not evidence of disinterest in any way--hes only heard it a couple of times, he struggles with small details (unless you want to argue laios also doesnt give a shit about marcille, chilchuck and senshi, he also forgets small details about them. if you do think this, i think dungeon meshi may be too advanced for you. stick to bluey.), and the man has autism. like near explicitly.

laios offers food from their limited supplies because kabru showed an interest in eating monsters, and makes him an omelette so he can have something to eat even though other food was already being prepared. he listens to kabrus criticism of his behavior and mindset in trying to protect falin even though she was straight up killing people, and tries to drag kabru to safety. he watches kabru defuse the situation between himself and toshiro masterfully, and confides in him how hurt he is that toshiro is so angry and how he mustve done something truly awful to upset him like that. when kabru tells him that meeting him was the best part of his time in the dungeon, laios agrees and says its the same for him (remember: laios doesnt do empty platitudes well--if he said it, he meant it).

when kabru leaves, we get three fucking panels in a row of laios staring after him, flexing the hand kabru was just holding, and reflecting on kabrus words ("next time..?")

when kabru shows up again deep in the dungeon, chilchuck is suspicious, but laios is so excited to see him that he throws caution to the wind and lets kabru hold his hand again despite seconds later crossing succubus off his list of shapeshifters that could be appearing as kabru--a carelessness around monsters and danger laios rarely exhibits. when kabru gives his warning about the canaries, laios is grateful. he notices how often kabru saves his skin

when lycion reveals that kabru lied about wanting to eat the omelette laios made, it breaks his heart because he made that with love! he made it for kabru, and kabru didnt like it, and now he knows kabru was just playing at friendship to use him. that breaks his heart, hes distraught, but he doesnt have time to be hurt about it when marcille needs his help urgently so he turns to run to her. he apologizes to kabru and tries to leave again. he isnt listening to what kabru is saying here because kabru was just revealed as a liar and because it doesnt really cohere (kabru is stuttering and speaking in broken sentences as he tries to explain about the dungeons power) and he needs to save marcille

he doesnt believe kabru wanted to be his friend, because who would? why would laios be special enough, loveable enough, to go through the pains kabru went through, just to be his friend? but when kabru makes the intensity of his desire known, laios promises to feed him again, at a proper restaurant --and again, food is care for laios, to feed someone is to love them. marcille is still his priority bc she is in real danger but he means what he says, he really does want to start over with kabru and be real friends with him

once we hit the resolution of the story, kabru near glues himself to laios, helping him and trying to cement himself as a right-hand man, and making known his intent to support laios no matter what. in the medieval manuscript style epilogue, kabru is one of two friends that stick by laios as he becomes king. both marcille and kabru become the people closest to him (besides falin of course), two friends who will always support him, always let him know when hes fucked up and theyre mad at him, two friends who he can rely on. laios did not have to accept kabru as an advisor, he did not have to ask him to stay with him. he did that because after everything, he trusts kabru now, and knows he can count on him

while laios doesnt give any big monologues about what he likes about kabru, its very clear he does, and we know what things laios values in other people. he appreciates kabrus social skills (very clear in the post canon comic in the adventurers bible), his intelligence, that kabru WANTS to be around him and understand him even though its difficult, his strength, and frankly he does appreciate his charm (three fucking panels straight of staring after him). laios really values people with specialized skillsets who are willing to tell him frankly what they think and advise him in areas he is weak in (something we see in his relationship with... i was gonna say namari but its everyone. he does this with everyone he likes. and in the resolution kabru does this CONSTANTLY he does not go a panel without giving laios his professional opinion on how to deal with people).

in conclusion: arent you hungry, kabru? let laios make something for you