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#her dreams were so simple
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I'm gonna post an actual book review later but I gotta get this out of my system
FUCK ONGRUM FUCK FOLDREY FUCK VIVNA FUCK THE SUNRA'S THEY CAN ALL SUCK IT BITEBITEBITEBITEBITE
Ranka baby I've only ever been on your side I'm so sorry you had to deal with these stupid hoes they were all dead wrong omg
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fandom-geek · 3 months
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vaguely fascinated by osana sov's naming choices. she chose for her daughter a name that can mean "bitter (strength)" or "lady" in two ancient languages (hebrew and aramaic) and for her son a name that means "old friend" in another ancient language (old english)
like every other golden age character has a name that's pretty normal by our standards, which tbh includes mara, then osana just names her other kid uldwyn. then again, even osana's name is either a variant of the hebrew hosanna or after an obscure and possibly fictitious old english princess-saint whose name means something along the lines of "godly solitude", so i suppose mara might be considered the odd one out
#destiny 2#osana sov#ngl i lean towards the old english meaning for osana bc it's very fitting given she lives in the wilderness w uldren in the distributary#also want to acknowledge osana's name could be japanese (“childhood friend”) but given her kids have names from hebrew and old english#it seems pretty likely that her name has one or both of the same origins#either way osana was def a history nerd btwn this and her mentioning weregilds unprompted in the marasenna#though it's very interesting to me that most of what we *see* of osana in her in the context of her motherhood#even though she's also an extremely renowned negotiator and mara mentions osana also had premonitions (presumably of the collapse)#...there's a vague irony that osana and mara (and crow) had truthful visions but uldren's were purely a deceit by riven#also i have feelings abt the fact that mara and osana were the only ones to remain w their names unchanged amongst the original awoken#(to our knowledge at least) since mara whose namesake comes from the book of ruth where naomi changed her name to that out of grief#and mara changed basically every other person aboard that ship consciously or otherwise#but did she change her mother/let the transformation change her? idk it's been a lingering thought in my brain since forsaken#anyway this is inspired by me trying to figure out what the revenants' watchtower is guarding#i don't think it's the pre-existing one to the dreaming city bc the scorn are already there#notably all the lore calls it *the* watchtower but the livestream mentioned *a* watchtower so i think it must be a different one#my spinfoil hope is that it's guarding the entrance to the distributary but also interamnia (awoken capital) would be cool#edit: should prob mention i'm assuming uld- equals ald- (old) but like. fairly simple assumption given everything
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ridl · 7 months
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I love ganqing sm. Keqing the capable, confident and highly ambitious leader of liyue, and her capable, war veteran, gentle general secretary, yet a bit weird qilin wife. And it's so important to me to underline that ganyu is just a bit weird and strange.
>appears for the first time on the roof >weird mullet hairstyle >eats raw wild flowers (her favorite is very bitter) >falls asleep in a haystack (can fall asleep anywhere really) >sensitive horns
Like yeah yeah, she's beautiful, strong and awesome, but do you care about her weirdgirl swag. I think it makes her very charming. Keqing is beautiful, strong and awesome too, but she's also just some guy. It's so fun to think about them because of it hhhh
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sunshine-zenith · 11 months
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The other night, for some incomprehensible reason, I dreamed Bakugou and Shigaraki’s moms started dating while their kids were little
I haven’t watched or read MHA in years and only occasionally browse the tags out of curiosity, but I get the vague impression that certain events from the last couple chapters would make this scenario a bit awkward
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zelma-on-the-side · 5 hours
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It sounds super vain but I'm so curious as to why on earth I have a stan account (if it even exists at all). Are they posting secretly obtained cat photos?
#that anon has me mildly concerned but mostly amused#there's nothing to stan!#anyways. i had two horrific nightmares#both with people who i respect a great deal. the first one was with my former arts coordinator (who is now retired).#basically she told me my writing was shit and if i didn't vastly improve in a short while#there would be nothing to pursue. it was more harsh than it sounds... trust me#the second was with a girl who we'll call kaylee. now for some odd reason#i was renting a room from kaylee in an area similar to my old church (which i GREATLY despise). i would never live there voluntarily.#in the dream#it was the day i was moving out to some other shack on the far side of town; i packed up all my stuff and tossed it into some dream dimensi#then went and ran errands with my mother for a veeeery long time. it was only supposed to be for an hour#but it was more like dusk to dawn.#back to kaylee. the thing is that kaylee simply wanted to talk to me about something#face to face. it was nothing serious#like how i was evading my rent. i can't remember it now.#anyways. since my mother is holding me hostage and making me spend the entire day chained to her side#it's impossible to get back to the room and talk to kaylee. understandably#she's pissed. i've promised her something simple#and now i've wasted her entire day and her patience. but kaylee is understanding#so she waits. and then she begins to start asking questions of a political nature...#which were the same that withered away my last friendship. the dream ends#and i wake up in a cold sweat.#g-d! that's way too many tags.#zelma who?!
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Melb trip hehe :-)
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fantomette22 · 2 years
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One shot: Return from the hunting lesson 
Alright ! I have written a lil something ! It's actually based on one of the first little funny Bloodborne sketches I've drawn.
I decided to draw it properly as well (A little comic in 4 cases). But it will come a bit later I need to draw it properly x)
It's also supposed to be a part of a bigger story. If I ever managed to really write it down. So I guess it's some kind of preview/beta for you and training for me (I'm sorry I dunno how to write dialogue efficiently or smoothly help). It's a draft so things might change of course (so don't be afraid of the 3 smileys I put XD they will disappear in due time). Apologies for the lack of context as well but it's supposed to be in the middle of a bigger chapter. In the middle of the first fic. But it can work independently too and I've wanted to put it on paper since a while. I still hope you will enjoyed.
Return from the hunting lesson :
Campus of Byrgenwerth, years before the official founding of the Healing Church.
Laurence was pensive. If he couldn’t find them himself, he will just go ask everyone he could came cross. Someone had to know something about it!
After spending sometimes running and asking around the few persons he could find, with no succeed, he noticed two young men walking towards him. Micolash seems to be in the middle of an explanation and Ludwig was listening attentively.
He interpellated them, “Micolash, Ludwig! Would you have a minute?”
 “Oh Hello Laurence :D !” said an overjoyed Ludwig. 
Then Micolash replied more calmly, “Of course, what do you need Laurence?”
“I wanted to ask if any of you have seen Maria or Gehrman recently?”
Micolash thought a few seconds before answering: “Not since a few days, I think, why?”
Laurence sighed “I fear you would say that…”
Ludwig questioned him : “What do you mean? Is everything alright?”
“Well, the Cainhurst nobles have arrived, so their presence is required. But most importantly, I’m a bit worried because no one seem to have seen any of them since a few days…”
“But aren’t they training in the woods the entire week?” replied a confused Ludwig.
“Yes, they are. They usually go at the first hours of the morning and come back before night. But they didn’t come back yesterday evening and they were supposed to come back today at least. You could think they might have went camping and spend the night in the forest. I wouldn’t be surprised but no one saw them before yesterday as well. Nothing since two days ! A student even claimed to have seen a creature in the forest as well…”
Micolash was left puzzled “Hm… this is concerning. Something would have happened to them? Or to one of them?"
“Oh, I hope they’re ok!” exclaimed a very worried Ludwig.
While they were talking, a figure passed through the bushes with difficulty. They fell silents, looked in its direction and were left completely astonished.
It was Maria. 
She seems a bit lost, carrying a big sac and a smaller messenger bag over her shoulder, but it was her appearance that was rather unusual. With leaves in her hair, her clothes were covered in dirt and…could that be blood as well?
“MARIA ?!”
She turned her head toward them a bit confused before answering : “Oh hello! How are you all doing?”
The three came right in front of her, Laurence was the first to questioned her “Maria are you alright? What happened?” 
“Yes, I’m alright and what do you mean? We were hunting like you’re aware of”
“We had no news of you both for days! We grew worried… Where’s Gehrman ?!”
“Well… we spend last night in the woods and before yesterday at the village...But we did get back at night to get a few things, and Gehrman-” She looked around. “Didn’t arrived yet…” She then turned toward the forest to shout “Over here!” 
A moments later he emerged between the dense leaves and branches. He was too carrying an imposing sac and was covered in a bloody dirt as well. He had a rifle on his back. “Hello everyone.” 
Laurence chuckle in relief.
“So…  did this hunting lesson worked out?” asked Ludwig.
A big grin appeared on Gehrman’s face. “It did!” He put the sac on the ground and began to open it. At the same time Maria handed a small sac she gets from her bag. “Here Micolash. If I recalled, you and Rom wanted to examine a venomous maggot? Well, we found this dead one”
He took it “Oh thank you very much Maria! That is correct you remember well! I’m sure our dear friend will be very happy.”
From his own, Gehrman pulled out the head of an imposing boar. “Tada!”
The trio was taken aback once again. 
“That’s huge! Hold on… there’s things like that in the woods ?!” Ludwig said like he was scared.
“Oh just a few.”
“So, you two hunts down a boar?” questioned Laurence. 
“Mostly yes. But it’s not the only thing…” Maria answered. The teacher’s eyes look down at the close sac beside her. 
Gehrman cough to get their attention “Well she killed a boar.” 
“Yeah i…I killed a boar...”
“That’s quite impressive! All by yourself?”
“Well Gehrman helped me-“
“Oh, I just help to distracted it. You deserve the entire praise on this one.” A big smile appears on the face of the younger hunter.
“Where is the rest of it too?” asked Micolash.
“We couldn’t take all of it with us, so we left the rest to the villagers and the snakes I guess” answered the other hunter.
The student continued : “You two are covered in so much mud! Better jump right now into the sea to wash up x) !
“Thanks, but I think we’re fine. We got time to clean up after all.”
“Well… actually Cainhurst had already arrived.” Laurence informed them.
“What. Oh”  Oh no no no ! I’m so screwed I can’t show up like this !
Gehrman noticed her distressed. “Don’t worry- Hm… just go! I got it!”
“Really? Oh, thank you!” She then starts running extremely fast across the campus in direction of her dorm.
“Well, I think we should all get going as well” proposed Laurence. 
They began to walk, after saying goodbye, Micolash and Ludwig went in their own direction.
“So, what’s in this one?” Laurence asked, pointing at the smaller sac Maria was caring earlier.
“Something I need to show master Willem…and you.” Laurence looks at him with an interrogating look. “Do you remember the dog lost by the prospectors in the labyrinth a few weeks ago?”
“Hm yes? Oh ! Let me guess… you find his remains at the surface didn’t you?”
“It’s more him who find us...” 
“What?” 
“Laurence. That thing… whatever it was, it wasn’t the dog we knew. The way he attacked us… We just put an end to his suffering.” He sighed “I will explain more later. Not here...”
“Alright I understand… Do you plan to do that right now?” 
“I was thinking of showing the boar head to our noble visitors before. I believe they will appreciate it. As well as to be made aware of the progress of their future knight.’’
“Certainly, let’s get going then.”
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lingeringscars · 2 years
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The only like. Divergence per se. I anticipate as of right now is I don't personally vibe with romantic luna x Austin
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had a weird dream about saw :[ am now plagued by the visions tm
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ghaziyounes1967 · 2 months
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" This too shall pass "
I believe that good will always overcome evil, just as spring comes, and with it eternal life, overcoming the bitter cold of winter. We will overcome this genocide very soon with God's help and your continued help and support. One of the advantages we achieved during the war is to convey to you our voice, which has not been heard for many years, and to reveal the nature of this occupation and its actions that have been covered up for hundreds of years.
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I would like to introduce you to my simple Palestinian family, who lived in peace in a very beautiful house consisting of a ground and upper floor and a charming garden that we renovated shortly before the war, but the occupation had a different opinion regarding the barbaric bombing of civilians and homes. The occupation destroyed our dear home, which reminded me of my father, the dearest person in the world. My life, may God have mercy on him. The occupation killed every happy and even sad memory by bombing our house.
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This is my aunt with my younger brother Ahmed, in his last year of school before university. My aunt's house was next door to ours, and she had been single for years. She was not married, and since we are a small family, I have no uncles, It was always my duty to check on my aunt and provide her with everything from food, drink, medicine, and everything else. Before I went to university every day, I always liked to go there to have breakfast together, chat and get her approval before I went to my studies. every memories the occupation destroyed it.
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This our beloved home before and after Israeli bombing 💔
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My priority is to help this kind old woman, when the Rafah crossing is opened, to leave the Gaza Strip safely for Egypt. I do not care about the homes destroyed by the occupation. Money can be compensated, but the soul cant be compensated. Iwant to see my aunt again. I want her to be with us again. This is really what I want. I want to send her money so that she can support herself in the northern Gaza Strip. The prices are crazy, folks, especially the food prices.
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this is my friend Ali Al-Tababi, and my name is Ghazi Sheto, he was closer to me than many people in my family. I met Ali at university, and we had a goal: to graduate and work together. I will stay up all night to make this dream come true. He was always at my house, playing, studying, sleeping together and going to university together. We were conjoined twins. Ali and all his family members they are all died because of Israeli bombing.You can see the massacre of the Tabatabai family. May God have mercy on them all. I want to fulfill my dream and my friend’s dream and bring my aunt to Egypt and build my house again if possible.
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We asked for 30 thousand as compensation, less than a little for what we lost in the war. Frankly, our homes cost half a million dollars, but I asked for 30 thousand so that I could bring my aunt and protect her soul from being killed and so that she could do that. Come to Egypt safely and give her food and drink while she is stuck in northern Gaza, but unfortunately I have only collected $500 so far.
These donations will go to my aunt, the old woman stranded in the northern Gaza Strip, to give her the opportunity to travel, protect her life from being killed, and secure her daily sustenance of food and nutrition. I ask everyone who can help, do not hesitate, because we really need help. Thank you all, and I hope you don't suffer as I do. We suffered, especially my weak aunt.
i Hope you all good thanks you for our support towards our cause 🙏🤍
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silkscream · 3 months
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natural devotion
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ੈ✩ synopsis: gojo finds you, his ex-wife, in a sketchy dive bar. he almost doesn't recognize you.
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), previous arranged marriage, ex-husband!gojo, clanleader!gojo, rough bathroom sex, semi-public sex, drunk sex, oral, fingering + penetration, light choking, gojo is.... weird idk how to explain. he's just strange and cold and possessive and so odd
ੈ✩ wc: 3.2k
ੈ✩ a/n: literally nobody asked for this. also it's unedited. sorry
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Gojo thinks he sees a ghost when he sees you.
At least, he thinks it’s you.
You don’t see him yet, so he takes the liberty to scan you over more thoroughly. You’re not wearing anything like the simple, modest attire he remembered you donning around his estate. Instead, you’re in a form-fitting crop top and the tiniest mini skirt Gojo has ever seen. He’s not sure if it even classifies as a skirt.
Interesting.
He takes a breath as he sits down next to you, interrupting your conversation with the bartender to offer his card. You turn to look at him and you laugh.
“Put hers on my tab,” Gojo says.
“Always the gentleman.”
“You know I’ll always take care of you. Even if we aren’t married anymore.”
You could scoff at that, but you decide to be polite. He’s as candid as he’s always been. It used to humiliate you, but you aren’t the same docile little wife you used to be. You also realize his gesture could be interpreted as tender, which isn’t something you were ever used to in your marriage.
He was a cold man and it was a marriage of convenience.
Or perhaps he was only cold to you. You would watch how he would interact at social gatherings and clan parties, his charisma infecting entire rooms. Toothy grins that shone as brightly as his hair. Always loud, animated, and magnetic.
To you, he was mostly indifferent.
He was never outwardly mean, but he was constantly occupied with missions. It almost felt as if you weren’t married at all. You enjoyed speaking to him when he was around, though. There were moments when you could almost picture yourself being his friend, but then he would be away and come back cold. 
When you asked for a divorce, he complied without a blink. Even after you were free from becoming an incubator for the Gojo clan’s next heir, something in your chest ached at how easily Gojo signed the papers.
And now, he’s tipsy in a bar with you and more tuned into your presence than ever. When he looks at you, there’s a lingering that you convince yourself you’re hallucinating.
Small talk with him is odd. He’s much more complicated than that, but here you are, discussing trivial things right now. If he’s remarried yet (he hasn’t). If you honed in on your cursed technique (you have).
It’s terribly odd. Like talking to a stranger that you’ve only met in a dream.
“I thought you’d have better taste in bars,” he drawls, sipping a Cosmo. It was annoyingly endearing, the way he wasn’t the kind of man to have a glass of whiskey despite acting like it.
“I could say the same to you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not a regular. This place is full of perverts.”
“Does that include you?”
Gojo grins. “Not like some of these guys. You would’ve gotten roofied if I didn’t sit down. And your outfit certainly isn’t helping.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” you scoff.
“It is one. You’re a sight to behold. Never saw you in anything like this when we were married.”
“Your clan would have my head. I assume you would, too,” you mutter. 
His eyes are taking you in, flickering between your face and your body. It would make you uncomfortable if you weren’t already three beers in. 
“I wouldn’t be angry. I just don’t promise that I would’ve kept my hands to myself.”
You stare at him in disbelief.
“I think this is the most forward you’ve ever been to me.”
“You were so timid back then,” he smirks. He places a hand on your knee, his thumb tracing the skin. “Such a nervous little girl. There were times I assumed you were cheating on me, the way you were so rigid with me.”
You remember being obedient and quiet. Perhaps rigid, but you had only followed his lead, pushing yourself away from him just because he was doing it to you first. You know you shouldn’t apologize or feel guilty for your lack of intimacy with him, but the way he teases you makes your face heat up.
“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” you frown.
“Good,” he smiles. It almost seems genuine. “I wouldn’t have let anyone have you, anyway.”
Your eyes widen in slight surprise.
Why did you let me divorce you, then?
His fingers are tracing circles into the skin of your thigh absentmindedly. The flutter in your chest threatens to pull on your lungs when you notice.
“You’re so different now,” he notes.
“Not really.”
“I don’t just mean the way you look, by the way. Your eyes are sharper. Posture better. Not a meek little thing anymore, huh?”
You could flush at how he belittles you, but the praise gets to your head. 
“Huh. You’re the opposite. You look and act the same as when I last saw you.”
He laughs. “I always liked when you talked back, you know. Anyone ever told you can be a bit of a brat?”
You raise a brow. “Yes.”
His breath smells sweet. Tongue like a candy apple from the sugared liquor in his glass, you were sure. You don’t wince when he gets closer to you.
“Yeah? And how do they deal with it?”
You bite the inside of your cheek before entertaining him.
“Everyone’s a little different,” you mumble.
You miss the flicker of jealousy in his eyes. You’re too distracted by the shape of his mouth.
“What do you think I’d do?” Gojo tilts his head as if he’s taunting you.
“I don’t– what?” you stammer. 
“You’re a smart girl. Use your imagination.”
He grins again. Everything about him is sickeningly sweet. It’s not a side of him you’ve ever seen directed at you. There’s almost a fondness there. You would only see it before in rare moments, usually when Gojo was a little drunk. You suppose he could be drunk now and you’re almost grateful despite yourself. He would always get a little handsy, especially if you were dressed up for his clan events. He’d have his hand only on your leg, crawling up the skirt of your dress. During times like those, he felt like a real husband.
They were always such fleeting moments. Even years after the divorce, certain memories could still make you dizzy. 
Your mouth goes dry. You compose yourself. 
“Sorry. I, uh, have to use the bathroom.”
“Gonna use your imagination in there?” Gojo jokes.
“Something like that,” you mutter back, if only to humor him.
You don’t realize the hole you’ve put yourself in once you utter the words. The invitation you’ve given him. Unfortunately, you’re also still reeling from the conversation, so you forget to lock the door of the handicapped bathroom. 
To be fair, Gojo did try to convince himself not to follow you for the entire three minutes you were gone. But he’s never been that good of a man. It was your fault for being so damn tempting in the first place. But he had tried to be good even in the very beginning – he was polite, kept his hands to himself. Bought you anything you wanted. 
He even let you leave him. After seeing you tonight, he now knows it was a grave mistake.
“Satoru.”
“Hey.” 
He closes the door gently and locks it. Leans against the door with his arms crossed as if waiting for you to do a magic trick from the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 
“Why are you–”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t want me to follow you,” he tuts. 
Okay. Fine. He had a point.
“This must be exciting for you, yeah? Seeing me lose it over you?”
You can’t form words. Despite the fire in your belly, you aren’t completely sure what his angle is here. He steps forward and backs you into the wall. He could pin you to it, easily.
His hands rest on your thighs, riding up the length of the pathetic excuse you call a skirt. 
“You’re trying to kill me with this,” he huffs. “Just making everything so… difficult.”
He almost sounds disappointed in you. There is a rush of desperation flooding your brain like a knee-jerk reaction. You can feel your heart about to burst.
“Sorry,” you mumble. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.
“I was really trying to behave, too,” Gojo sighs. “Wouldn’t want to scare my ex-wife away with how much I missed her. Christ.”
“You– what?”
“Yeah, baby. How could I not miss this face?” He strokes your cheek. You’re convinced he’s been possessed by someone else, maybe. Mistaken you for a different stranger.
Your knees are already going weak. He leans in to whisper in your ear. The hand stroking your cheek holds your chin, squishing your face slightly.
“Didn’t you miss me?”
“I… I did,” you whisper.
“Good,” he smiles softly. “I like knowing you still think about me.”
The proximity is driving him insane, but he’s always liked to play with you. Sometimes he would be a little mean on purpose, but never enough to be considered bullying. He just enjoyed watching you squirm back then — it was adorable how dedicated you were to playing the part of a doting wife. He wanted to see you crack, maybe beg for his attention, but you were always too stubborn.
His cock throbs knowing that you’re putty in his hands now. Melting against him, soft and willing like a blooming flower. God, he needs a taste. He nibbles on your earlobe and grins when he feels your breath hitch.
“I kind of wanted to just take you right there on the bar. Let all those creeps see how good I’d fuck you.”
Your eyes flutter rapidly at his words. He has pinned you to the wall now. You’re close enough to feel him press against you, bullet-hard. A little more teasing and he’d pull the trigger. 
He kisses down your neck, mapping it out with his teeth. He’s barely touched you and you feel like an elastic band about to snap.
“S-Satoru–”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
You pant lightly. You’re preening into his touch. Lightning makes roots down the center of your spine. You forget what you wanted to say.
“What is it? You want me to take care of you?” He pulls back this time to look you directly in the eyes. His expression softens just a second at the lovestruck look in your eyes. Tender and glistening.
You nod slowly.
“I need your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” your voice shakes. “I want you to take care of me.”
He hums, pleased. The desire in his face is so new to you despite having been his wife. He’d only fucked you once before, on your anniversary. You were too tempting and he, admittedly, was tired of punishing himself by not allowing himself the pleasure of having you.
He could see you now, sprawled on the tatami mat, how you smelled like cherry blossoms. Flashes of images reeling in his mind, every little sound you made. He’d fucked his fist to the memory of it all too often after you left him. 
He felt honored to have the real thing in his hands right now.
He kisses you like he needs you to breathe. You feel blood rush to your ears, the music from the bar muffled. All you could hear were the sound of his grunts, the slickness of his tongue in between your lips. 
He spins you around abruptly, bending you over the sink. Hand on your throat, teeth in the tendon of your shoulder.
“Look at how pretty you are,” he rasps. 
You whimper, feeling his hard cock rut against the curve of your ass. He laughs when he swipes his hand underneath your skirt, the fabric of your underwear already wet. 
You gasp sharply when he eases a finger in without any resistance. He swallows the sounds you make, craning your neck towards his face with his hand while the other works another finger in. Your stomach flips, all boiling heat when he curves his fingers in just the right spot. As if he’d done it a dozen times.
“Dirty girl,” Gojo mumbles. “Getting off to her ex-husband's fingers all the way up in her cunt. In a fucking dive bar bathroom, too.”
When you whine, he only scissors into you harder and laughs. It kills you how much it turns you on, even while knowing he’s being cruel. You would fantasize about it all the time back then. Needed him to make you a real wife so you could forget yourself. You close your eyes, groaning.
“S-Satoru, I–”
“You’re not gonna cum just from that, are you?” You hear a grin in his voice.
“Fuck, please —”
His fingers leave you, making you whine in protest. The sopping mess of your arousal trickles down your inner thighs. 
“Not yet, baby. Want you to cum in my mouth.”
Gojo drops to his knees and flips up your skirt, pulling your soiled underwear down your legs at the same time. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning when you feel his tongue prodding at your cunt. 
“I always regret not tasting you on our anniversary,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “You’re sweeter than I imagined.”
“Imagined?” you squeak out.
“You thought I stopped wanting you just because I signed a piece of paper?”
“I didn’t – oh, fuck —”
You’re distracted by the plunge of his tongue into cunt. He sucks at the hood of your clit and you feel yourself jerk involuntarily. He’s fond of your sensitivity. He used to want to take advantage of it.
You let a particular loud whine and he hums, lapping up every drop of your arousal. He sucks at your clit in earnest while he brings his fingers back to you, immediately reaching for the spot he knows will make you see stars. 
You cum so hard that you nearly bang your head against the sink faucet. Your head is spinning from the impact of it, dizzied on the high that came from a clan head in your cunt. The alcohol wasn’t helping.
He’s quick to get to his feet and kiss you so you can taste yourself. He tugs your hair and you arch for him like a taut bowstring.
“Feel how much I want you, baby?” You can feel his dick against you, something like shame flooding your system at how much of a mess you were. Getting his nice slacks all damp with your slick.
“Please,” you beg. 
He doesn’t think twice once he hears your plea. He unbuckles his belt quickly and slides down his pants. He collects your wetness in between your folds to stroke his dick. 
It feels like he’s gouging your stomach when he fucks into you. Bigger than any man you’ve had, still. Gojo likes that he was your first and he’s decided now that he will be your last.
“Tight,” Gojo mutters. You know it’s a compliment but your face heats up nonetheless. His hand around your throat is only more confirmation of his want. 
He smacks your ass with his other hand, looking down to admire the reddish mark he left. Brute. He grins when you squeeze him tighter after it. He notices your eyes struggling to stay open and gives a particularly hard thrust just to see your jaw go slack. Eyes in half-moons, boiled by the heat of your thumping heart. Blood pumping to every soft spot in your body, your brain.
“Satoru,” you gasp.
“Yeah, baby?”
“F-Feels so…”
You inhale sharply, eyes widening when his hand snakes down to pinch your clit. Your hair’s wrapped his knuckles now. A ribbon around a wedding gift. He liked when you used to wear ribbons around your neck. Liked imagining you all wrapped up for him. 
Satoru was so beautiful when he did anything, but he was angelic when he was fucking you. Cheeks all carmine, mouth wide open. It was something you wanted to get used to.
“You keep clenching, Jesus,” he grunts. Teeth at your nape, at your shoulder. Blue eyes staring at you in the mirror.
“Satoru, I’m close,” you whine.
“Hold it.”
“I– I don’t know if I can.”
“You can. You’re a good girl, even if you are dressed like a little slut.”
You whimper at that, your cunt pulsating at his words. Muscles strung out like a wet rag. You nearly cry when he pulls out of you, manhandling you to turn. He picks you up to set you down on the cold sink counter, the porcelain soothing the bruising on your ass.
He groans as he pumps himself slowly, admiring the way his tip catches on your entrance. You squirm a little, impatient, and he kisses you. It feels invasive, almost, from how rough he plays with you, sucks on your tongue. He takes the opportunity to ram into you, enjoying the way the pitched whine rolling out of your mouth gets tasted by him.
“Missed my cock, didn’t you?” he smirks. “Still the best you’ve ever had, right?”
“Y-Yes,” you sob.
His gut fucking melts.
Your mascara was getting smudged, not smudgy like he’d see in porn, but blending in the rim of your wet eyes. Dew-drop lashes.
“Feels best like this. Wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he pants. 
Your hands are on his shoulders, clinging onto him. He’s so much bigger than you, especially like this — your legs spread, his big hands gripping your thigh hard enough to hurt a little. You moan. Your voice sounds girlier than usual, wounded. You don’t recognize yourself. 
“Oh, it’s too deep—”
“No such thing,” Satoru snickers. “You’re – hah – so good at this. Good girl.”
“S-Satoru, it’s too–”
“You love it. Tell me.”
“F-fuck — I,” – you struggle mindlessly, voice strained – “I love it…”
“I know, baby,” he coos. Kisses your forehead, which is hilariously domestic and gentle considering the mean pace of his hips. 
He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You’re so fucked out. He’d ask you to take a picture if he wasn’t so focused on making you cum.
“You want to cum, don’t you?” he taunts.
“Please, please, please—”
“Okay, honey,” he chuckles. “You can cum now.”
Your moan is louder than expected as your cunt squeezes him impossibly tight. You can feel all the warmth rush out of you. You really are a sight to behold, which is why Satoru cums immediately after you. You feel like you might pass out. 
He kisses you all over your face, mumbling praise as you come back to your body. It’s all most nonsensical, but you swear you hear I love you. Your half-lidded eyes close as he envelops you with his arms, mascara streaking his shoulder.
He opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by a succession of loud knocks.
“Other people need to piss!”
Satoru scoffs, pulling away from you to slide his pants back up and buckle them. He mouths something to you that you don’t understand and leans down to grab your underwear to give to you.
“Just a second!” Satoru yells. “My wife is sick, had a bit too much to drink. Almost done.”
“Wife?” you whisper, bewildered.
Satoru eyes soften in amusement. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
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aperrywilliams · 4 months
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That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.
Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.
Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)
Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.
A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!
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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.
But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.
He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.
From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.
But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.
You were extremely shy and reserved.
In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'
He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.
But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.
You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.
At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.
It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?
If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.
From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.
You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.
'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'
'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'
And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.
And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.
But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.
Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.
In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.
The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.
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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.
Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.
All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.
Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.
"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.
"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.
"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.
"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.
"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.
You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.
It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.
"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.
"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.
"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.
That's it—the elephant in the room.
Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...
There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.
Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.
"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.
And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.
But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.
"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.
"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.
"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.
"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.
And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.
Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.
When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.
"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.
That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.
You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.
Emily is who stops everyone's rant.
"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."
And this is how the discussion is settled.
Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.
When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.
"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"
You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.
"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."
"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.
You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.
Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.
"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."
Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.
"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.
Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."
If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.
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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.
Everyone has a role in the plan.
Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.
Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.
When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.
"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.
"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"
Your cheeks redens.
"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.
"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."
You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.
"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."
"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.
One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.
At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.
For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.
Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.
"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.
The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.
As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.
Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.
Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.
Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.
You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.
Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.
At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.
"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.
"Show time," you mumble to yourself.
You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.
That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.
You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.
Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.
"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.
JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.
"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."
Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.
"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."
You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.
Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.
Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.
Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.
Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.
JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.
As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.
"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.
Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.
There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.
"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.
With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.
He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.
"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.
"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.
Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.
The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.
"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.
"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.
You get closer to him to speak in his ear.
"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.
Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.
You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.
"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.
You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.
It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.
Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.
When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.
As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.
Everything that happens after is too fast.
The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.
But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.
There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.
You shyly approach him.
"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.
"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.
"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.
"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.
Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.
Everything except that kiss.
If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.
A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.
You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.
What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.
"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.
"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.
"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.
Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?
"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.
A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.
There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.
"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.
"I know," you say with some hesitation.
"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"
Now, you are the one who smirks at him.
"Evidence, huh?"
"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.
"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.
Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.
This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 
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backinmyphase · 14 days
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Not your husband
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Summary: You are going to marry the Satoru Gojo. A dream come true right? Well when he doesn't even show up to the meetings to arrange your marriage, it becomes clear that it's more a nightmare.
Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.
Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3040 words
Next part Masterlist
Sane Geto AU (I am an Angst writer, but not like Gege. Please excuse any errors in my writing)
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The world of Jujutsu was never a world for you.
Born into a clan, which only saw your value in your technique. Born into a family, which only saw your mistakes. Born from a mother, who had the same problems but still resented you.
Born into a world full of curses but still being told you were the biggest of all.
"Don't daydream, you will make a bad impression. And you really can't afford that."
The woman in front of you isn't pleased. She isn't since she knew she wouldn't give life to boy.
It's hard as woman in a Jujutsu clan.
It's not about how your technique can help you, it's about how your technique could help your son at exorcising curses.
"Yes, mother."
She frowns as she looks at you. Displeased she fixes her posture a bit, signaling you to do the same. You obey.
"You can't afford to make any mistakes today. Just do as I told you. I can only hope you have learned anything."
As you nod you realize what all this means. The dress kimono you are wearing. The expensive tea that is ready to serve. The hairpin you have gotten from your mother, who did your hair today.
All of it becomes so real.
Your husband has been decided.
"You won't say anything, until you are being asked." The woman hissed. "And please keep a smile on your boring face, then it at least looks not so simple."
You never discovered your technique and what you could do with it. It wasn't easy. Knowing that everything you did would result in you being married of.
And as you sat here in this big room with your mother, you could only wonder.
Who would your husband be? Could it be someone who understood you?
Someone you could love?
As the door opened you saw your father who looked onto the ground as he spoke.
"They are here."
Your mother only nodded, as your father closed the door. Just a few minutes later the door was opened again.
And a beautiful woman stepped inside.
She smiled at your mother as she took a seat in front of her. But the smile was the same as the smile of your mother. And maybe the same of your own.
As she sat down on the opposite side, you served the tea. The best tea your clan could afford.
For a man that didn't seem to have come.
The woman gave an apologetic smile. "My sincere apologies, but my son... Well he is in a bit of a rebellious phase, which lead of him disappearing before this meeting."
Your mother's smile faded a bit. "Does he know of what importance this meeting is for our clans?"
The woman laughed. "Oh, he knows." She slightly eyed you before she spoke again. "He just doesn't care."
Silence flodded the room. It was like a cold hand slidded down your back as you realized.
"I hope the Gojo Clan will show more interest in our connection. We will be very disappointed if not." The smile of your mother was just as cold as the hand that seemed to choke you.
This was Mrs. Gojo. The mother of the strongest.
Gojo Satoru.
The one who seemingly stood above anyone. The one who jumped at every opportunity to mess with the higher ups.
Who will be your husband.
And he didn't even show up to meet you.
"Of course. He will learn." The woman sighed as she spared you a glance again. Then she smiled that smile again.
And you mirrored it.
"Your future husband isn't the easiest person." The woman sighed as she looked at you. "Even as a baby he knew what he wanted and how to get it."
Not knowing how to react you just nodded.
The woman laughed at that. "But no worries! Even though he is... Difficult, you will love him. He has that effect on people."
Your mouth dried up at the mention of love. How could this woman talk about love at the table your arranged marriage would be discussed? How could she talk about love when you didn't even have a saying in this arrangement? How, when you will marry the strongest?
Satoru Gojo?
"I really hope that he will learn." Your mother smiled while taking a sip from her tea. "He should know that his actions are what keep the Gojo Clan still important. He shouldn't throw that away."
The tension grew a lot, as Mrs. Gojo mirrored the smile and took a sip of the tea. "Well at least I brought him to our Clan. In the end that's the biggest thing a woman could achieve right?"
It was sick. We lived in modern times, but the Jujutsu Society was still so far behind, floating under the radar, with the excuse of making the world a better place.
"It's true." Your mother sighed as she lowered her cup. "The strongest really is the biggest achievement you could have ever accomplished. Being the parent of such a child... But I wonder..."
Your mother now didn't even try to hide her distain. "Why does his mother not have him under control?"
Klirrr
"Because." Mrs. Gojo's hand shook as it held the broken cup. The sharp shards cutting into it. "As a boy, he can have this freedom."
The black tea in your cup grew cold as long with the atmosphere in the room. Your mother stood up and left the room without a word. Her steps filled the silence in the room. And as she closed the door the woman in front of you sighed.
"Difficult woman, isn't she?" Mrs. Gojo let go of the cup shards while hissing. Her mask no longer in tact as she didn't smile anymore.
"Well who isn't?"
She looked at you surprised and then chuckled. "I guess you are right."
On the same day the arrangement was consolidated. It was official.
You will marry Satoru Gojo.
~~
"Suguru, how could this happen? To me?" Satoru whined as he complained to his best friend. "It all has to be a bad joke, right?"
"No, it sounds like a normal thing in jujutsu clans. I'm just confused why you didn't have any saying. You know, as the strongest." Suguru didn't look up from his book as his best friend groaned.
"That's what I'm saying! I don't give a damn about this whole clan thing."
As they were sitting in the park near their mission, they of course already finished not even breaking a sweat, the sun slowly set.
"It is a really bad system. How the clans only strive after power and never consider the lives of their toles." Suguru muttered as he turned the page.
"And now I have to marry a random girl I don't even know!" Satoru groaned again and buried his face in his hands.
"And she has to marry you." Suguru sighed.
Satoru looked at him slightly annoyed. "What do you want to say? Just say it."
"Well, I am sure, she is just as horrified as you at the sound of marriage. I'm just saying you could at least try to get to know her."
"I'm not going there." Stubbornly Satoru shook his head. "Never. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."
Suguru looked up at his friend and now he shook his head. "I pity your soon to be wife."
Offended, Satoru turned to his friend. "Hey! I'm your friend in need here!"
Suguru placed his bookmark gently in his book and then closed it. "Just promise you will show up to the wedding."
Satoru grinned. "Why? You scared of the higher-ups for me?"
"Not for you." He stood up as he looked down at his friend.
"For your wife. If an arranged marriage isn't going well, you know who gets blamed. And what you're doing is just cruel to her."
Gojo didn't say anything as he put on his blindfold.
~
"Do I look pretty?"
You didn't dare be louder than a whisper. "Mother?"
Her sigh gave you confirmation that she wasn't pleased. As she looked you up and down, her frown never disappeared. "As long you don't make that face, it's passable."
She stood up. "For a wedding you look... I just hope your husband will like you at your best."
"Soon to be husband." you corrected her quietly as you looked in the mirror.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She raised a brow but nodded slowly. Then she paced through the room impatiently. "That woman still hasn't given us any signs."
"Mrs. Gojo is probably seating the guests." a little part of you wanted to defend this woman. Your future mother in law.
"Or the groom makes problems again." your mother shook her head, like always when she spoke about the young Gojo.
After he didn't show up to a single meeting, she was sure that Mrs. Gojo didn't raise him right and that she as his mother should be blamed.
It was so pathetic. How you already felt his displeasure, his hatred towards you.
"Mother?"
"What is it?" she was annoyed.
"What was your wedding like?"
...
"Just like this one. It's tradition in our clan." her face was stone cold.
And you felt sympathy for her. She also had an arranged marriage. A wedding in which she didn't have any saying. A husband who she never chose.
"It's the bride's moment." The voice of Mrs. Gojo halled through the room.
Your mother smiled at you. You smiled back.
"Just don't mess it up."
~~
There were too many guests. Mostly people you didn't know. And all of them looked at you, while you made your way to the altar.
Under their stares you felt small.
But there was also this man. This guy with white hair, that stood at the end of your path. This boy that refused to even meet you before the wedding.
He gave you a glance and then continued to stubbornly look straight ahead.
As you stood before him, he didn't seem to be here with his thoughts.
And at this moment you knew he didn't want to marry you. No, you knew that before. But you knew that he would never open up or try to make this work.
And you didn't want that.
"I do."
No, you really didn't. And as he spatted the same words you knew that he was lying too.
~~
"Oh, you lucky girl!" The old woman, you didn't even know, said.
The after ceremony was not nice. All the guests wanted to talk to Gojo and some, not many pestered you. What really stung you was that they made more effort to talk to you than your own husband did.
"To marry such a handsome man." she looked at you and smiled knowingly.
"Of course it's an honor to marry Gojo Satoru as he is an important figure for the jujutsu society." Everything you said sounded like a broken record that lost any meaning.
She chuckled. "You can be honest with me. An heir will be on the way shortly, right?"
You hated this talk about an heir. Hated, hated, hated this people that keep telling you to hurry up and sleep with this man that didn't even look at you.
"We will see."
She laughed at that. And somehow you managed to excuse yourself from the conversation.
The rest of the evening was torture, but you somehow survived. Gojo didn't talk to you. He just disappeared at some point, leaving you alone in the cave of the lions.
His mother was right. He was a difficult person.
You hated that you had to ask around to be driven to his estate. Hated, that he didn't open the door, it was the personal chef that was going to leave. Hated, that you stood alone in this cold house.
He seemed to like to leave you alone. To just go.
You didn't want to sleep at this house. You didn't want to, but where should you go? Where could a place be, where you could hide?
Gojo had places. Not you.
You slept on the couch that evening. Your wedding dress was still on, as you didn't know what in this big house was to wear for you.
~~
"You're an asshole, you know that?" Satoru didn't like to hear that from his best friend, as he stood at his doorstep.
"I just need a place to sleep."
"I said to go to the wedding." Suguru felt like babysitting a toddler.
"And I did."
"Then why are you here? And not with your wife at your house?" Suguru slowly began to lose his patience.
"Can you just let me in, you ass?"
After shaking his head, Suguru opened his door wide enough to let Gojo in.
"Why are you here?" he wasn't going to make it easy for Satoru to forget he left you there.
"Had enough."
"You're such a child." Suguru shook his head. That's what ticked Gojo off.
"Stop it!" He threw his shoes on the floor.
"You can't judge me! Not when you don't know how it feels to have your future stripped from you just because you have been born in this family!"
Suguru kept silent this time.
~~
Your things were shiped to this mansion you should now live in. It wasn't a lot but your necessary clothes. Finally.
Finally you could take the dress off.
The clothing that reminded you that this was real. That your reason in life was already fulfilled and now you should just cease to exist.
No, that wasn't true, was it? You still had to bring an heir.
Will you ever get used to this new prison? You doubt it.
It was so big and cold. So many things but it didn't have this personal touch. It felt empty, unloved. Did Gojo even live here?
Well it seems like he wouldn't if you were here.
It was stupid. You didn't know him, just saw him yesterday for the first time in person. And still it was so clear he wouldn't make it easy for you.
You felt unloved.
"A letter, Mrs. Gojo."
The sudden voice blew you away from your thoughts. Another thing you wouldn't get used to. There were servants for the Clan leader. Like this girl. They were only needed in the kitchen, but it still felt wrong.
And something felt so wrong with being called this name.
"From who?"
The girl before you had a pitiful look. "Your mother." She cleared her throat. "She said, it's about your arrangement."
As you looked down at this paper, it felt like cursed energy was coming from it.
"Oh. Alright, thank you." Hesitating you took the letter.
The girl just nodded and made her way to the kitchen. The silence in this house was haunting.
Again you looked at the letter in your hands, and wished it was only paper. What should you do from now on? How would you spend your life?
Well obviously not with your husband as he wasn't even here.
And you would make sure that he didn't see the letters from your clan.
~~
"You're here." Satoru Gojo didn't seem pleased to see his wife in his house at this evening. Rather displeased, the way he frowned like a little child.
'Well.' you thought. 'That's to damn bad. He should have come to the arrangement hours.'
"Yeah. I have to be."
He didn't even look at you. Humiliation after humiliation. What would your child self say? Seeing that your own husband didn't even look or smile at you? The hopeless romantic would be crushed.
And now they definitely are.
"I see." His voice was barely audible. Oh, what a humiliation this must be for him! The strongest! Not even in control of his own marriage.
You really should pity him. Be understanding. Like the good wife your mother wanted you to be.
But you didn't have the strength to do that. No, you didn't sympathize with this man, that stood in front of you. The one who had the privilege of doing what he wanted till now just because he was blessed. Because he was born a boy.
And you were not.
"My things were brought this morning and Hina showed me around. I already-"
"Who is Hina?" Gojo sounded confused.
"The servant girl. The one who helps to cook?" you couldn't believe him. She even told you that she was working here since 3 years!
"Oh, yeah she. Continue."
You didn't like his tone, you didn't like his attitude, you didn't like that you didn't knew anything about him BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SHOW UP TO ANY-
"I already have my own room. I won't bother you." While trying to keep the bitterness down you started to whisper.
"What?"
As you looked up at him, your mind went blank. For the first time Satoru looked at you. With his big blue beautiful eyes, he looked at you. So mesmerizing that you almost forgot about your bitterness towards him.
Almost.
"I already have my own room. I won't bother you in any mean. We can also eat separately. In fact I would prefer that."
He snorted. "That's childish. Not even eating together."
And that broke the straw. The straw your patience was hanging on sooooo desperately.
"You." you poked his chest with force. "Can't tell me what's childish or not."
Your voice grew a bit. "You can't, not after not attending any meetings, actively trying to get away from me on our wedding day, leaving me alone for our clan people, leaving me alone for the night way to a new house I have to call home now!"
He kept silent. Like all the times you saw him.
"SO EXCUSE ME." You made your way to your room, shouting to make sure he knew what you said.
"IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL! AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!"
You slammed the door with force.
You don't think your husband will ever even like you. Or if Gojo would ever even be your husband.
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unitedhamilton · 3 months
Text
Five and One
Summary: five times you were Lewis' comments and the one time he was in yours.
A/N: this is my first time doing a smau! I had so much fun making this. Enjoy lovelies 💜
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Liked by ynusername, trentarnold66, and 808,211 others
lewishamilton Next stop, Imola 🚀
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user1 nice pic 🔥
user2 nice 😍😍😍
user3 champion
user4 8 time user5 SAY IT LOUDER
ynusername put me in the trunk and drive away with me PLEASE 🙏🤤
ynbestfriend this is your public account girlfriend ynusername and? I hope Lewis sees my comment user6 he doesn't want you ynusername he always wants me
masonmount shoe game goes hard
user9 give me a pair of your boots 🤲🏻
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lewishamilton Our time here on this planet is so short.
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ynusername our time is so short so spend it with me please
user10 you beautiful man! 💜
ynusername SHOW THE FULL PIC
ynusername 💦💦🌊🌊
ynbestfriend what are these supposed to represent? ynusername water...obviously
user15 Ur literal job is burning fuel and rubber. Hy. po. crite
user16 shut up
roscoelovescoco go dads! you rocks!
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lewishamilton Thankful for this time I've had off but now it's go time!
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user1 this this this 🙌
ynusername i could climb you
ynbestfriend GIRL GET OUT OF HIS COMMENTS. TALK TO HIM user17 what do you mean by this? 🤨🎤
ynusername let me sit in your lap 🧎‍♀️
ynusername begging to be that soda can 🙏
user18 aren't we all 🙄 user19 get in line
user3 Ginger Ale...? ....RIGHT 😎
wroetoshaw common Lewis W
user39 bro came out of retirement to comment on a Lewis post
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lewishamilton It's a dream.
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ynusername DON'T BUTTON THE SHIRT
ynusername UNBUTTON IT user5 did you just reply to yourself? ynusername maybe? don't judge me
user7 I totally dig your style!! Hawt! ❤️‍🔥
ynbestfriend i don't think @ ynusername is alive. it was nice knowing you
ynusername i've died but come back but i'm dying again user25 literally me
user17 are you grey?
fencer my bestie
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lewishamilton New week, new possibilities 🙌🏾
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ynusername i'm literally speechless
user16 wow
user8 nice 👌👌👌
ynusername i have no words
ynbestfriend for once?!?!?!? he's killed you
ynusername I'M TRYING TO FIND SOMETHING TO SAY AND I CAN'T 😭
user4 daddy
ynusername simple, but effective
user15 i need that shirt
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ynusername i may be in his comments but he's forever in my heart 💜
tagged lewishamilton
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lewishamilton my love ❤️
ynbestfriend YAY BESTIE THIS HAS BEEN SUCH A HARD SECRET TO KEEP ❤️
serenawilliams congrats 🎉
user29 THIS WHOLE TIME??
user13 we need the timeline asap 🤲🏻 user2 her besties comment had me 🤨 one day
kingjames my brother! congrats!
marcusrashford champ on and off the track @ lewishamilton
user4 why can't it have been me 🫠
user1 grow up user4 IT WAS A JOKE
mercedesamgf1 much love to Roscoe's new mom! 🐶💜
ynbestfriend so... when is project hamilton happening with a baby?
ynusername RELAX lewishamilton soon ynusername BRO????
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heestruck · 22 days
Text
Joint Dream ; Lee Heeseung
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synopsis ; What if we lived in a world where dreams were connected? Where my thoughts became yours. And yours became mine. Where a simple fantasy that ran through your unconscious mind was shared with someone else. And neither of you had any idea that your dreams were connected as one.
In which yn and heeseung have the same sex dream about each other and are forced to get through a long shift not knowing the other person shared the same dream.
pairing ; coworker!fem reader x coworker!heeseung
genre ; smut
warnings ; smut, mdni. hair pulling, degrading, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), inappropriate relationship, infidelity, oral fem&male receiving, praising, sex in the workplace, heeseung is downbad, swearing.
do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact.
wc ; 7.7k
I’d strongly advise you read the teaser so you can read the dream. you can find that when you click here
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the cool morning light filtering through your bedroom window. The dream from last night clung to your thoughts like a stubborn fog, making it hard to focus. Every time you tried to push it away, it resurfaced—Heeseung’s hands, his breath on your neck, the way he’d looked at you with such raw desire. You shook your head, trying to dispel the images, but they only seemed to grow clearer.
Across town, Heeseung was standing under the steaming spray of the shower, his hand pressed against the cold tile as water cascaded down his back. He’d woken up with the dream still fresh in his mind, the memory of your body pressed against his in the boardroom sending a jolt of arousal through him. He bit his lip, trying to shake the feeling, but the more he thought about it, the more turned on he became. His hand twitched, itching to do something about it, but he forced himself to stay still. He was married, for God’s sake. But even as he reminded himself of that, the thought of his wife barely registered—just a distant echo compared to the vivid images of you.
You pulled a pair of black dress pants from your closet, laying them on the bed as you debated what to wear on top. Normally, getting dressed for work was a mindless task, something you did without much thought. But today, after that dream, it felt different. You didn’t want to dress too provocatively—Heeseung was married, after all, and it’s not like you were going to seduce him—but you also didn’t want to seem like you were behaving out of the ordinary. You settled on a white long-sleeved shirt, hoping it struck the right balance.
Heeseung turned off the shower, running a towel through his hair as he stepped out, the cool air hitting his skin doing little to quell the heat still coursing through him. He stood there for a moment, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he shake this feeling? He tried to think about his wife, but even the thought of her didn’t stir the guilt it used to. Instead, all he could see was you—how you’d looked in that dream, the way your body had responded to his touch. He cursed under his breath, forcing himself to focus on the day ahead.
In your room, you slipped into the black waistcoat, adjusting it until it sat perfectly. The formal look of it made you feel more grounded, more in control. But even as you dressed, your mind kept drifting back to Heeseung. How were you going to face him today, knowing what you’d dreamt? Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him, of being in the same room with him after what had happened in your subconscious. The images from the dream were still so vivid, so real, it was hard to believe it hadn’t actually happened.
Heeseung pulled on a pair of black dress pants, followed by a crisp white button-up shirt. His movements were precise, almost mechanical, as he tried to suppress the arousal that kept surging up every time his thoughts drifted back to you. He fastened each button with deliberate care, but even that wasn’t enough to keep his mind from wandering. His wife’s voice, faint and tired, reached him from the bedroom. “You don’t care about us anymore, do you?” she mumbled, half-asleep but clearly hurt. Heeseung froze for a moment, listening to the words, but they barely registered. He knew she was right—there had been a distance between them for a while now. But instead of feeling guilt, all he felt was a dull, muted acknowledgment. He didn’t care as much as he should, and the realization didn’t bother him like it used to.
In the kitchen, Heeseung’s wife was pouring coffee when he walked in, her expression distant. She didn’t look up when she spoke, her voice flat and resigned. “Have a good day,” she said, the words empty, merely being said out of habit rather than genuine care. “You too,” Heeseung replied, his tone just as hollow. As he grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door, he glanced back at her, but the connection they once had seemed to have withered away. Whatever was missing, he didn’t have the energy or desire to find it again.
You grabbed your bag, checking your reflection one last time before heading out the door. The nerves were still there, but you tried to push them down, reminding yourself that it was just a dream. However, deep down you knew it had changed how you saw Heeseung. As you locked the door behind you, your heart pounded with anticipation, the thought of seeing him today sending a thrill through you that you couldn’t quite shake.
Heeseung climbed into his car, his mind still buzzing with thoughts of you, of the dream that had left him aching for something he knew he shouldn’t want. As he drove towards the office, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, the familiar route passing by in a blur as he mentally prepared himself for the day ahead. He tried to think about the project, about the work waiting for him, but it was useless. The dream had taken hold of him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape it
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
You stepped into the elevator, the familiar hum of filling the small space as you pressed the button for your office floor. The doors began to slide shut when you heard a voice calling out, just before the doors sealed completely.
“Hold it, please!”
Instinctively, you reached out to press the ‘open’ button, the doors pausing their descent before slowly reversing. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Heeseung stepped into the elevator, his pace quickening to close the distance before the doors could shut again. He offered you a grateful smile, his hand brushing yours as he reached for the button panel, sending an unexpected jolt through you.
“Thanks,” Heeseung said, his voice smooth, though there was an underlying tension you couldn’t quite place.
“Sure,” you managed to reply, your voice quieter than you intended. You could feel the atmosphere in the elevator shift as the doors finally closed, sealing the two of you inside the small, confined space.
The silence that followed was thick and heavy. You stood side by side, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. Your mind raced, replaying the vivid details of your dream, trying to push them out of your mind. You had never felt so uneasy around him before, and the tension in the air only made it worse.
Heeseung, meanwhile, was doing his best to keep his thoughts under control. The memory of his dream lingered at the edges of his mind, and every time he glanced at you, he felt an odd mix of confusion and guilt. He didn’t understand why he had dreamed about you, of all people, and the lingering effects of the dream unsettled him. But he refused to let it show, keeping his expression neutral and his demeanor calm.
When you and Heeseung first started at the company, it was immediately clear that you were both cut from the same cloth—ambitious, driven, and determined to make a name for yourselves. You joined the company on the same day, and from the outset, there was a natural chemistry between you. You quickly became each other’s unofficial competition, constantly pushing one another to do better, to reach higher. But it wasn’t the kind of rivalry that bred resentment. If anything, it brought you closer together.
In those early days, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. You knew that Heeseung would work just as hard as you would, and you respected him for it. Heeseung, in turn, admired your tenacity and sharp mind. The competition between you was light-hearted, almost playful at times. You’d tease each other over who could land the biggest client or who could draft the most airtight proposal, but it was always in good fun. There was a certain flirtatiousness in your banter, but it never crossed the line into anything inappropriate. It was just the way you interacted—two people who genuinely enjoyed each other’s company, who relished the challenge of trying to outdo one another.
There were countless late nights spent in the office, just the two of you, with takeout containers strewn across your desks and a few empty coffee cups lined up as you pored over financial statements or budget proposals. Those nights had a certain intimacy to them, but it was always rooted in your mutual respect and shared goals. There were moments when the teasing would get a little more personal—a compliment on how sharp Heeseung looked in his suit, or a playful jab from him about how you always seemed to have the right answer at the right time. But it was all part of the dance, the rhythm you’d fallen into over the years.
And now, after years of working side by side, something had changed. The friendship that had once been so easy had become tainted with an unfamiliar tension, an awkwardness that neither of you knew how to address. It was as if the dynamic that had once defined your relationship had been thrown off balance, leaving you both unsure of how to resolve this.
The numbers on the elevator panel ticked up slowly, each floor feeling like an eternity. Heeseung glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noticing the way you kept your gaze fixed forward, determined not to meet his eyes. He wondered if you were just as uncomfortable as he was, but quickly dismissed the thought. There was no way you could know what had been going on in his head last night.
“So… how was your weekend?” Heeseung asked, his voice light but slightly strained. It was a desperate attempt to break the silence, to inject some normalcy into the situation.
“It was… fine,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Pretty quiet, actually.”
He nodded, his expression neutral. “Yeah, same here. Quiet.”
The conversation died as quickly as it started, the tension between you both thickening the air. The elevator continued its slow ascent, the atmosphere growing more stifling with each passing second. You could feel your pulse quicken, the proximity to Heeseung almost unbearable as you tried to focus on anything other than the dream.
Heeseung shifted slightly, trying to focus on anything but the lingering tension. He had worked with you for years, and there had never been anything like this between you before. The dream had thrown him off balance, and he didn’t know how to regain his footing. The memory of his wife’s words that morning echoed faintly in his mind, but he pushed it aside, refusing to let it distract him any further.
The elevator dinged softly as it reached your floor, the doors sliding open with a mechanical whoosh. You practically leapt out, eager to escape the suffocating tension, but you felt Heeseung’s presence close behind, his footsteps copying yours as you made your way to your respective desks.
As you reached your desk, you let out a shaky breath, one you hadn’t known you were holding. You sat down in your chair, opening your laptop in hopes that work would be enough of a distraction. Across the room, Heeseung settled into his chair, his face a mask of calm professionalism, but beneath the surface, his thoughts were anything but.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
The office was quiet, the usual buzz of activity replaced by the soft hum of machines left running through the night. The last of the overhead lights dimmed as their colleagues packed up and headed out, offering quick farewells to you and Heeseung. You smiled and nodded in return, though your thoughts were far from the work you were about to dive into.
Your mind kept drifting back to the dream throughout your entire work day. The memory of it made your cheeks flush even now, hours later. It wasn’t just the vividness of the dream that lingered—it was the way it had sparked something new in you. You stole a glance at him, wondering if he could sense the awkwardness you felt or if you were giving away too much with your lingering looks.
But Heeseung was as calm and composed as ever. He leaned casually against his desk, his posture relaxed as he chatted with a colleague. His voice was smooth, his expression unreadable, revealing nothing of what might be going on in his mind. If he had any idea about the dream that had shaken you, he didn’t show it. Yet, beneath your nerves, there was a strange, new pull toward him—something the dream had awakened.
"Ready to get started?" His voice was steady, and confident, as he approached you.
"Yeah, let’s do this," you replied, hoping your own voice didn’t betray the nervousness you felt.
As you settled into the now-empty office, the silence between you and Heeseung stretched, filled only by the quiet clicking of keyboards and the distant sounds of the city outside. You tried to focus on the work at hand, but your thoughts kept straying back to the dream—how real it had felt, how much it had affected you. More than anything, you were startled by how much you had enjoyed it, and how much it had made you see Heeseung in a different light.
Every time you glanced at him, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, but he gave nothing away. His movements were fluid and assured, his focus seemingly unshakeable. He occasionally offered you a small, reassuring smile, as if everything was perfectly normal. But there was a newfound awareness in the air, something unspoken yet undeniably present.
But beneath that calm exterior, Heeseung was battling thoughts he couldn’t shake. The dream he’d had the night before was still fresh in his mind—an unexpected and vivid encounter with you that left him feeling uneasy. Despite the unease, he couldn’t deny that the dream had enticed him. It had stirred something within him that he hadn’t anticipated—a secret attraction he now found himself struggling to ignore.
Still, Heeseung was an expert at keeping his emotions in check. His demeanor remained collected, his focus on the task at hand. He wouldn’t let a stray dream affect his professionalism. But as the night wore on, the guilt started fading away and the attraction mixed with his own selfish desires lingered.
“Do you have the financial report for Q1?” Heeseung’s voice broke through the silence, his eyes scanning the documents in front of him, as if drowning himself in numbers could chase away the thoughts that kept resurfacing. You had the report he’d requested right in front of you, but every time he spoke, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting. You stared at the title on the report, trying to focus on anything other than the remnants of the dream that refused to leave your mind.
“Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, passing him the stapled papers. You attempted to refocus on your own work, your fingers tapping across the keyboard, but your eyes kept drifting back to Heeseung—the way he bit his bottom lip when he was deep in thought, the way his eyes narrowed as he concentrated, and then there was the wedding band he kept twisting around his ring finger.
It was shameful, you knew, to be thinking like this about a colleague, especially a married one.
But Heeseung’s thoughts weren’t much different from your own. It was shameful for him to be stealing glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking, his thoughts drifting back to the dream he couldn’t shake. He prided himself on his self-control, on resisting temptation, but as he watched you from across the desk, the memory of that godforsaken dream kept creeping back. His gaze flickered briefly to the hallway, where the boardroom from his dream lay just out of sight.
“Have you ever dreamt about work?” Heeseung asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could think better of it. It was a risky move, bringing up his dream of all things, but something compelled him to broach the topic. He wasn’t sure what he hoped to achieve by mentioning it—it wasn’t as though he could come right out and say what was really on his mind.
The question caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily frozen. Why would he bring up dreams right now of all times?
“Yeah… last night, actually.” You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as you responded, your fingers pausing their movement on the keyboard. “But I can’t really remember what it was about.”
Like Heeseung, you felt an inexplicable urge to keep the conversation going, as if talking about it might somehow dissolve the tension in the air. Maybe if you opened the door to the subject, it would help you forget the dream altogether. But as the images of the dream grew sharper in your mind, you felt the familiar pull of desire gnawing at you. “Me too, actually… something to do with the boardroom.”
Your mind raced as Heeseung spoke. Had you accidentally said something? Had someone somehow found out about your dream? You knew it was impossible. You hadn’t told a soul, and you were certain you hadn’t slipped up. Yet, it felt like he was reading your thoughts, like he knew exactly what was tormenting you. Anxiety twisted in your chest, but it was mixed with an unexpected surge of adrenaline, making your pulse quicken.
In Heeseung’s mind, a similar conflict was raging. The thought of his wife, once a grounding presence, had faded into the background. He’d worked alongside you for years, and though he’d always harbored a subtle, unspoken attraction, he had never let it show. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, making it feel as if you were strangers who had only just met each other.
Heeseung knew he was venturing into dangerous territory. He was fully aware of the risks, of the line he was dangerously close to crossing. He’d always prided himself on his self-control, on keeping his professional and personal lives separate. But the curiosity, the temptation, was growing too strong to ignore. “Remember when we first started?” he began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. “We were chasing clients like crazy, spending nearly every day and night in this office drafting proposals.”
“Of course I remember,” you replied, a small, almost forced laugh escaping your lips. “Your wife saw me as a threat because she thought you wanted me,” you added, trying to keep the mood light, though inside you winced at the mention of his partner. It was a clumsy attempt to deflect the rising tension, but it only made the air between you feel even heavier.
Heeseung’s eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He knew he shouldn’t make an advancement towards you. But it’s like he had lost all control of himself. “Aren’t you though?” he asked, his voice low and measured, each word carrying a weight that hung between you. The question took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless as a jolt of unease settled in your stomach. What could he possibly mean by that?
“W-what are you talking about?” you stammered, hating the way your voice faltered. You mentally cursed yourself for letting your nerves show, for giving him a glimpse of just how much his words had affected you. The tension in the room was palpable now, thick and suffocating. It was as if the long hours of work and accumulated stress had cracked open something between you, something neither of you were fully prepared to face. Yet, there was no denying the undercurrent of desire that had been simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.
Heeseung leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a thrill through you. “Are you sure you don’t remember what the dream was about?” His chair inched closer, closing the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours. They were searching, probing, as if trying to unlock the secrets you were so desperately trying to keep hidden. Your heart pounded in your chest, the room suddenly feeling too small, too intimate.
“Because ever since I woke up from my dream… God, I’ve wanted to go back to it over and over. I haven’t wanted something this badly since—”
“The Decelis deal,” you interrupted, finishing his sentence with a voice steadier than you felt. The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and for a moment, silence filled the space between you. When your eyes finally met his, you saw the recognition in his gaze, the silent confirmation that your worst fears were true. Every piece of the puzzle clicked into place, and with it, the undeniable truth: Heeseung had the same dream. The realization sent a shockwave through you, leaving you breathless and reeling.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you stared into Heeseung’s eyes, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air between you. The world outside your small bubble ceased to exist—the office, your responsibilities, and even the boundaries that had once kept you in check all faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing on the line of something dangerous, something that could change everything. The tension was unbearable, and yet, neither of you moved, neither of you willing to be the first to break the fragile silence.
But then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Heeseung leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. The space between you seemed to vanish in an instant, and before you could fully process what was happening, his lips were on yours.
The kiss was tentative at first, as though he was giving you a chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far. But when you didn’t, when you instead leaned into him, his hesitation vanished. Heeseung’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until it was all-consuming.
You melted into him, your body responding instinctively, as though this was what it had been waiting for all along. The kiss was everything you hadn’t known you needed—intense, overwhelming, and utterly perfect. It was nothing like the dream; it was better. So much better. The reality of it, the warmth of his lips, the way he tasted, the way his body pressed against yours, all of it was far more intoxicating than anything your mind could have conjured up while you slept.
Without breaking the kiss, Heeseung’s hands moved to your waist, gripping you firmly as he tugged you from your chair onto his lap. The sudden shift made your breath catch, your legs straddling him as he pulled you even closer. The feel of his body beneath you, strong and solid, sent a jolt of electricity through you, heightening the intensity of the moment.
Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his shirt. Heeseung groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter than anything you’d felt before. Every thought of professionalism, of the consequences, of his marriage, vanished as you lost yourself in the moment.
The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, as though you were both trying to make up for lost time, for the months, years even, of holding back. There was no more room for restraint, only the overwhelming need to be closer, to feel more. The way you fit together felt natural, as though you’d been doing this for years, and yet, it was all new, exhilarating in a way that left you dizzy and craving more.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. The room was still spinning, the weight of what had just happened starting to settle in, but neither of you spoke. Words felt unnecessary, trivial even, compared to what you had just shared.
All you could think about was how right it had felt, how much better this was than any dream. The reality of Heeseung’s touch, his kiss, was more than you had ever imagined it could be, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had ever gone so long without it.
Heeseung’s eyes met yours again, and this time, there was no confusion, no hesitation. Just a mutual understanding, a shared acknowledgment of what you both wanted, and a silent agreement that this was only the beginning.
Your need for more was undeniable as you leaned in, eager to reconnect your lips with his. The kiss was charged with desire, a release of the pent-up tension that had been simmering all day. As your lips moved against Heeseung’s, you could barely contain yourself. “I want you so bad,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. His eyes fluttered open at your words, and you could feel the effect they had on him, the tension in his dress pants growing as you straddled him.
“Just one kiss and you’re already acting like a desperate slut for me?” Heeseung’s voice was low, teasing, as a smirk tugged at his lips. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that contrasted the roughness of his words. The contrast sent a thrill through you, and you found yourself nodding slowly, acknowledging the desire he had ignited deep within you.
“Please, Seung, I need you.” Your plea was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift motion, he hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly as he stood. He carried you across the room, your heart racing as he moved towards the boardroom—the very place that had been haunting both of your dreams all day. “Oh, baby… don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need,” he murmured, his voice a promise that sent a shiver down your spine.
As soon as you entered the room, Heeseung set you down on the polished wooden surface of the table, his hands sliding from under your thighs to your waist. His movements were deliberate, slow, as he began to unbutton your waistcoat. He knew exactly what he was doing, taking his time as if savoring every second. His smirk only widened as he watched your patience wear thin, your hands moving to help him, pulling off the waistcoat and then your shirt, tossing them both aside in your haste.
Heeseung’s amusement was evident, but there was a hunger in his eyes as he took in your eagerness. Even as your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, your desperation to feel his skin against yours was clear. His shirt soon joined yours on the floor, leaving the two of you exposed, the intensity of the moment amplified by the shared vulnerability. “God, you’re perfect,” Heeseung whispered, his voice filled with genuine admiration as his hand came up to cup one of your breasts through your bra.
He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a kiss that was different from the others. This one was unhurried, sensual, a deep connection that sealed the unspoken bond between you. “I think I need to show you just how perfect you are,” he mumbled against your lips, his breath warm and intoxicating. You nodded frantically, the anticipation almost too much to bear as he gently guided you down onto your back.
The cool surface of the table met your skin, sending a shiver through you as Heeseung’s fingers deftly worked at the waistband of your dress pants. He took his time, slowly undoing the button and zipper, his eyes never leaving yours as he slid the fabric down your legs. Heeseung was in no hurry; he was savoring every moment, every inch of your skin that was revealed to him.
Heeseung was on cloud nine, his desire for you overwhelming. He had never felt anything like this before, not even with his wife. It was as if his entire world had shifted, and now, all that mattered was you.
He leaned over your body, pressing a trail of kisses along your stomach, each one setting your nerves alight. As he worked his way down, his lips reached the edge of your panties. With a playful glint in his eye, he bit onto the delicate fabric, dragging it down to your knees, his gaze locked on yours the entire time.
Heeseung was like something out of your deepest fantasies, a vision that put every other experience to shame. Even the simple act of undressing you felt charged with an intoxicating sensuality. Before you could fully process it, Heeseung’s lips brushed against your clit, a light, teasing kiss that sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your breath hitch.
Heeseung’s lips hovered just above your clit, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. The anticipation was maddening, the tension in your body coiling tighter with each passing second. Heeseung was teasing you, savoring the moment as his eyes stayed locked on yours, filled with an intense hunger that made your pulse race.
Slowly, he dipped his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your clit. The sensation was electric, sending a shockwave through your entire body. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your back arching slightly off the wooden surface in response. Heeseung smirked against you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.
Without warning, his tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, deliberate circle around your clit. The pressure was just right, enough to make you moan, your hands instinctively reaching down to grip the edge of the table. Heeseung’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he continued his slow, torturous assault on your clit, each stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge.
Heeseung didn’t let up, his tongue moving with purpose now, alternating between soft flicks and gentle sucks, pulling more desperate sounds from you. Your mind was a haze of pleasure, every coherent thought melting away as Heeseung worked you over with an expertise that left you breathless.
You could feel the pressure building in your core, the coil tightening with each skilled movement of his tongue. “Heeseung…” You breathed out his name, the sound trembling on your lips. Heeseung hummed against you in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you, pushing you even closer to your peak.
Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you tried to ground yourself. Heeseung’s mouth was relentless, focused entirely on bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. His tongue moved faster now, flicking against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, driving you wild.
You could feel the orgasm building, threatening to crash over you at any moment. Your thighs trembled, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge. “Please… don’t stop,” you managed to choke out, your voice thick with desperation. Heeseung only responded by doubling down, sucking hard on your clit and flicking his tongue with precision, pushing you over the edge.
The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, ripping through your body with an intensity that left you breathless. Your back arched off the table, a strangled moan escaping your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Heeseung didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to work you through your high, milking every last drop of pleasure from you.
You were completely undone, every muscle in your body trembling as the aftershocks of the orgasm washed over you. Heeseung finally pulled back, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, a satisfied smile on his face. You were still trying to catch your breath, your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.
Heeseung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood up, towering over you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His words sent another shiver down your spine, your body still buzzing from the afterglow.
You could barely form a response, your body still trembling with the remnants of your orgasm. But the look in Heeseung’s eyes told you that this was far from over. Heeseung reached down, his fingers trailing over your skin as he slowly leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss.
This time, you could taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of what he had just done to you. The kiss was slow and sensual, a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just happened. It was like he was savoring you, drawing out every moment, every sensation.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered, his voice sending a thrill through you. And with that, he leaned in to claim your lips once more, as if to prove that he was just getting started.
Your body was still trembling from the waves of pleasure that had just surged through you, but the desire to taste Heeseung was overwhelming. With what little strength you had left, you slid off the table, your knees sinking into the plush carpet as you gazed up at him with a mix of determination and innocence. Reaching up, your hand found its way to Heeseung's bulge, massaging him through his pants. The sensation drew a hiss from him, his breath catching in his throat.
"Are you just going to tease me, or are you going to put that mouth to good use?" Heeseung's voice was laced with frustration, his hands slamming onto the table with a resonating thud that echoed through the empty boardroom. His tone was a mix of command and need, driving you to act.
You eagerly undid the button and zipper of his dress pants, pulling them down to his ankles. With a quick, practiced motion, you slipped his boxers down as well, revealing him in all his glory. Your eyes widened at the sight—he was more than you had anticipated. The shock of his size was clear on your face, and Heeseung noticed. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he took in your reaction.
"Like what you see, baby? Think you can handle all of it?" His taunting words were delivered with a growl, a playful challenge that only fueled your eagerness.
You leaned in, your lips, still tingling from earlier kisses, wrapped around the tip of his cock. The initial contact made Heeseung curse under his breath, a sound of relief escaping him. His hand found your hair, tangling in it to guide you as he pushed more of himself into your mouth. "Fuck, your mouth feels incredible. I could have you under my desk all day."
His grip tightened in your hair, and you began to bob your head, taking more of him in with each movement. The room was filled with the sounds of your efforts, the slick, rhythmic motion of your mouth against him, and Heeseung’s growing groans of pleasure. He thrust forward to meet your rhythm, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each push. The gagging only seemed to spur him on, his moans growing louder and more desperate.
"You're taking me so well," he panted, his voice a mix of praise and primal need. "Should have fucked this mouth sooner." His thrusts grew more urgent, faster, as he chased his climax.
"You're such a pathetic little slut for me, aren’t you?" Heeseung’s words were a mixture of praise and degradation, his control slipping as he neared the edge. His moans were uncontrollable now, his breathing ragged as he felt his orgasm building.
With one final, hard thrust, Heeseung’s release hit him like a tidal wave. His head fell back, eyes rolling, as ropes of cum shot down your throat. Heeseung’s moans filled the room, each sound a testament to the intense pleasure you had given him. The culmination of his desire left him breathless, and he marveled at the unparalleled pleasure you had delivered.
The two of you lingered in the aftermath, bodies spent yet neither willing to let go of the moment. Heeseung helped you to your feet, guiding you back onto the table with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of just moments before. "Heeseung..." you breathed out, your voice trembling as your eyes locked with his. Without hesitation, you wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him closer until you could feel the heated press of his bare cock against your slick entrance, the sensation pulling a needy whimper from your throat.
"I know, baby..." Heeseung’s voice was low, thick with desire as he seemed to read your thoughts. He knew exactly what you wanted because it mirrored his own need. His hand slid down between your bodies, gripping the base of his cock before slowly dragging the tip along your wet folds. The anticipation built as he nudged at your entrance, teasing you before finally pushing in, inch by agonizing inch.
Both of you moaned as he stretched you out, your body adjusting to accommodate him. You sat up just enough to reach behind you, swiftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside, not caring where it landed. All that mattered was him. "God, you’re so tight," Heeseung hissed through clenched teeth, his hands gripping your hips to steady you both as he bottomed out inside you.
Once he was fully sheathed, Heeseung pulled back, only to slam his hips forward in a series of hard, deliberate thrusts. The raw intensity of the pleasure caught you off guard, the sensation so overwhelming, so perfectly right. "This pussy was made for me," he groaned, his words echoing in the air as your bodies moved together, fitting like two pieces of a long-missing puzzle. "Mmph... Seungie, you feel so good..." you moaned, your voice breaking as he set a relentless pace.
Heeseung’s thrusts were timed to perfection, each one hitting deeper than the last, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. His hand slid up your body, wrapping firmly around your neck as he continued to pound into you. "This is so much better than the dream," you gasped, your fingers curling around his wrist as his grip tightened, the pressure adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations.
"We should’ve done this sooner," Heeseung growled, his voice strained with the effort to hold back his release. "Could’ve had you taking my cock all day... God, you feel so perfect." His words hit you like a bolt of electricity, igniting a blush that spread across your cheeks. He tugged your body closer to the edge of the table, his cock driving deeper, brushing against your cervix with every thrust. "Fuck, I’m already so close..." he groaned, biting down on his lip as his movements grew more desperate.
Your moans echoed through the boardroom, loud and unrestrained as you met each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. "Cum in me, Heeseung... please, I want to be filled with your cum," you cried out, your voice laced with need as you pleaded with him. "Yeah? You want me to breed this little pussy? Want everyone to know who you belong to?" Heeseung’s free hand slid down to your clit, his fingers stroking in time with his thrusts as he watched you unravel beneath him.
The tension coiled tightly in your core, your orgasm building with every passing second. Heeseung could feel the way your walls clenched around him, your body trembling as you edged closer to release. "Fuck, you’re squeezing me so... ah—fuck!" Heeseung’s sentence trailed off, his mind going blank as the sensation overwhelmed him. It was as if you had trapped him, and he was helpless to resist.
"Hee... Please... please, I need to cum," you begged, your legs shaking around his waist as you teetered on the brink. Heeseung gave you a nod, and that was all you needed to finally let go. Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, your body tensing around his cock as you came hard, screaming his name as the pleasure tore through you. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you cried out for him, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.
The tight squeeze of your pussy was all it took to push Heeseung over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your neck tightening as he emptied himself into you, his release spilling out in hot, thick waves. "Fuck... Y/N. Oh fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice raw as his orgasm crashed over him, leaving him breathless and spent.
As his grip on your neck loosened, Heeseung leaned down, resting his head on your chest as he caught his breath. Instinctively, your hands tangled in his hair, soothing him as he pressed soft kisses along your exposed skin. Slowly, Heeseung withdrew, his cock slipping out of you as he stood upright, his eyes fixed on the sight of his cum beginning to spill from your still-sensitive entrance. With a smirk, he pushed two fingers inside you, gathering the leaking cum and pressing it back into your body. "Can’t have you wasting this, can we?" he murmured, his tone teasing.
Even now, after everything, he couldn’t resist taunting you. A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, too blissed out to form a coherent response. Heeseung pulled his boxers back up, his touch gentle as he fetched your discarded panties and slipped them back onto your legs. His movements were tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just transpired.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
It wasn’t long before the two of you were fully dressed again, returning to your shared workstation and attempting to pick up where you left off. The air was still charged with the lingering heat of your earlier encounter, making it nearly impossible to focus. Every few minutes, your eyes would meet, and before you knew it, you'd be exchanging soft, lingering kisses. Heeseung was completely lost in you, every touch, every glance fueling the connection between you both. But there was a shadow that loomed over this moment, a problem neither of you could ignore—his wife.
By the time the clock ticked past 5:00 a.m., the final proposal was submitted to your boss, setting him up for the client meeting later that day. You both knew you’d be fast asleep by then, but it didn’t matter. The work was done, and it was the least of your concerns now. Like the gentleman he prided himself on being, Heeseung insisted on walking you to your car. As you reached the driver's side door, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a string of gentle, lingering kisses that made your heart race.
"Seung... will this be the last time we’re... like this?" you asked softly, nibbling on your bottom lip. The question hung heavy in the air, your nerves betraying your calm exterior. You knew the reality—you were standing on the precipice of something forbidden, something beautiful, but he was still married.
Heeseung’s gaze softened as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin. "I’ll handle it," he murmured, his voice steady and sure. He knew exactly what you were asking, and more importantly, he knew what he had to do. "I think a part of me has always wanted this... I don’t want to let it go." His words were whispered against your lips before he kissed you once more, a kiss that felt like both a promise and a plea.
You nodded, your heart swelling with hope and fear as you reciprocated the kiss, pulling away reluctantly to slide into the driver’s seat. "Text me when you get home, yeah?" he asked, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You returned his smile, nodding as you backed out of the parking spot and drove away. Heeseung stood there, watching until your car disappeared from view, the warmth of his feelings for you burning brightly in his chest. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years, something that chipped away at the walls he had built around his heart, leaving him with a smile that he couldn’t seem to shake.
But as he returned to his own home, the smile slowly faded. The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him, and the faint clinking of dishes could be heard from the kitchen. "I’m home," he called out, his voice a bit flat as he walked into the kitchen. His wife was there, tidying up, just as she always was. Heeseung grabbed a mug, pouring himself some coffee before settling at the kitchen table. The silence that followed was heavy, the kind that wraps itself around you and makes it hard to breathe.
Finally, his wife spoke up, her voice cutting through the stillness. "How was your night, honey?"
Heeseung stared into his coffee, the steam rising in lazy spirals as his thoughts drifted back to you. He couldn’t answer honestly, couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he had spent the night consumed by thoughts of someone else. His gaze lifted, taking in the life they had built together—the home, the routines, the familiar comfort that had long since faded into dissatisfaction. And then, like a beacon in the dark, thoughts of you took hold, the possibilities of what you could build together seizing his mind.
His wife’s voice cut through his thoughts again, a touch of concern lacing her words. "I said, how was your night... did you finish that project, sweetheart?"
Heeseung met her eyes, the blank expression on his face revealing nothing of the storm brewing inside. There was no internal debate, no hesitation left in him. The answer was clear.
"I want a divorce."
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
taglist ; @aetherl0l (happy birthday!!) @llvrhee @yohanabanana @rayofsunshineeee @mitmit01 @heartheejake @melonvrs @shanb1n @jakeyismine @yunhoswrldddd @jinspinkflipphone @woorcve
authors note ; thank you everyone so much for all the love you gave the teaser! I hope you really enjoy the finished product, I spent so long trying to make sure it was perfect for you all! I look forward to producing more works for everyone!
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augustinewrites · 3 months
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just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children
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alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.
he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest. 
“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”  
the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”
the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?” 
that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.
alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.
“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”
the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her. 
“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”
“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.” 
children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking. 
he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you. 
he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).
but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future. 
a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.  
“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims. 
the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”
“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand. 
“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.” 
_____
“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”
alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”
his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple. 
“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”
“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.” 
“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”
your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.” 
seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.
“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”
you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.” 
his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”
you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature. 
“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. 
he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”
“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”
your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”
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