#jet is a very funny man

[jurassicbones]

my forever favourite interaction in the penumbra podcast is jet and juno’s conversation in what lies beyond part 1

JET: You are very mature for your age, Juno. I’ve always respected that about you.

JUNO: I’m - what? You’re only like 8 years older than me.

JET: Juno, I am not 32 years old.

JUNO: … I’m 40.

JET: Ah.

I ALWAYS LAUGH AT THIS EVERY TIME IVE HEARD IT A MILLION TIMES IT STILL MAKES ME LAUGH

[patrickztump]

So this sucked. This was pretty miserable, I– having to bang around on this thing for, like, so many takes. And like– Just have hot girls grabbing you. Uh, yeah, well that, yeah...

[hoshigray]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 

“Still traumatized from that one time?” 

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.” 

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 

“Will do.”He whistles. 

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[waywardxrhea]

Casual - Spencer Reid

for the CM friends with benefits challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins <3

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

You thought that your sexcapades with Spencer Reid had meant more to him like they did to you, but after a couple of run ins with his BAU teammates you learn that he really meant 'no attachments.'

word count: just over 5k

content: smut (this is sinful whoops) MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY: oral (fem receiving), public (ish) sexual acts, unprotected PIV, established FWB situation, drinking (just to the point of being tipsy, consent is still given), language, anxiety, angst.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

now playing: casual by chappell roan

“You finally made it!” your friend Maddie exclaimed gleefully as you walked into the latest bar that she had decided your small group of friends should try out that evening. 

Maddie’s girlfriend Celeste elbowed you gently in the ribs before teasingly asking, “Were you hooking up with Mr. FBI agent again?”

“That’d be, what? The fourth time this month?” Adrianna asked, a slight slur already in her words. She threw an arm around your shoulders and winked exaggeratedly before adding, “And it’s only the fifteenth! Get it girl!” 

“Ha ha, very funny, let’s all gang up on the girl with the best sex life here,” you joked, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the pang of hurt that shot through your gut at the comments. You grabbed a drink menu off the bar’s counter before heading back to your group’s claimed table for the evening, telling your friends, “I actually picked up an extra shift which is why I’m late and Doctor FBI agent is out of state on a case.”

“Awe, she knows when he’s out on a case, how sweet!” Celeste teased before winking and taking a sip of her brightly colored drink. 

“You three are impossible!” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stood up from your spot once more to escape the conversation and order your drink at the bar - a raspberry frozen margarita with sugar rim. Luckily when you got back to the table with your drink, the conversation had turned to Maddie discussing the latest drama at her job, so you sat back and relaxed as you sipped on your first drink of the night. 

“I can’t believe we finished all that paperwork in time to actually go out tonight,” Derek Morgan said as he stretched his arms, stepping out of his car and into the crisp evening air as he once more met up with the other BAU members at a bar the group gravitated toward when they had time to celebrate wins on cases. 

“Realistically it would have been nearly impossible for us to not get our work done in a timely manner. We got back from the case at ten AM and were all well rested after the flight, so our brains were all in ideal condition to finish the paperwork on time, even accounting for some delays in productivity due to jet lag,” Spencer Reid rambled off as they all walked into the bar, offering a small smile as some of his teammates rolled their eyes playfully in response. 

“Well all I know is that I’m getting a bottle of wine to celebrate wrapping that case,” Emily Prentiss commented as she dug through her purse. 

“What about you, pretty boy? Planning on drinking tonight?” Derek asked as he gently shoulder checked the younger man. 

“Just water,” Spencer replied. “Did you know that during long plane rides you can easily get dehydrated? The humidity within the cabin is usually around ten to twenty percent which is lower than the usual thirty to sixty percent that our bodies are used to. The lower level of humidity causes water to be drawn out of the body and the thirst reflex is diminished so you drink less water while at the same time losing more. I’m surprised that as a team we aren’t more dehydrated overall.”

The conversation was dropped as the team got their drinks ordered and then settled into a round booth at the back of the bar. As Spencer took a sip from his water, his eyes scanned the bar’s patrons to see if there were any people they may have to watch out for as the night goes on and more drinks are consumed. The water he was sipping on suddenly went down the wrong pipe though as he spotted a familiar face at the table adjacent to the team’s. It was you hanging out with a few friends, seeming to have not noticed his arrival. He wasn’t too surprised about that though because judging by the glasses on the table you were at least one and a half margaritas in and you already weren’t the most observant person when you were distracted anyway. 

“Everything okay, Spence?” JJ asked while she patted Spencer’s back. 

Derek’s eyes tracked where Spencer’s had landed and he smirked as he announced to the table, “Pretty boy just saw the girl he bangs on his couch.” 

There was a quiet cacophony of responses to Derek’s comment the moment it fell from his lips. “Remind me to not sit on your couch ever again,” Emily Prentiss commented with a quiet laugh. “Ooh Spence, how serious is this thing?” JJ asked in a sly tone. “I’m glad you found someone, kid,” David Rossi said with a nod and a toast of his glass. “As long as it isn’t going to affect you at work,” their unit chief Aaron Hotchner commented sternly. “Spencer’s dating someone? Why did Derek know this and I didn’t?” Penelope Garcia asked with wide eyes. 

Spencer didn’t respond immediately, suddenly overwhelmed by the barrage of comments, so Derek took a moment to dig the hole even deeper by adding, “He made me swear not to tell baby girl.” He got a mischievous look on his face as he continued, “But one time when I was at his place getting his go bag while he was busy in the shooting range, I found a bra in his dresser. It took some time but I finally got an answer out of him and it turns out this has been going on for a few months now.”

“Spencer Reid!” Penelope scolded while leaning over and playfully swatting at his hand. “How could you not tell me? You know I would have run a background check on her to make sure everything checked out!”

“Everyone slow down!” Spencer said, putting his hands up which caused the noise at the table to die down. “She quite literally ran into me at a coffee shop a few months back but I didn’t tell anyone because, well…we aren’t together. It’s just a casual thing.”

“Just casual? Is she okay with that?” JJ asked, quirking an eyebrow up in question. 

“She hasn’t said anything against it,” Spencer replied. He glanced over at you laughing with your friends one more time before shaking his head and asking, “Can we change the subject?”

“Whatever you want, player,” Derek said with a chuckle before the conversation moved on to whatever the latest sports news was, prompted by Derek’s reaction to something happening on one of the many TVs hanging around the room. 

Later that night after you had your fair share of appetizers and drinks, your friends were all starting to head home for the evening. “Thank you for coming, we need to do this again soon!” Celeste told you with a fake stern look before she giggled and leaned over into Maddie’s side. 

“We do!” you agreed as you grabbed your glass to finish off the last bit of your drink. “Get home safe!”

“You too!” Maddie said as she attempted to steady Celeste. “You’re calling a cab right?”

“Of course,” you told her with a nod, raising your glass in a toast as the pair headed off toward the door, following Adrianna outside. 

After finishing off your drink, you stood up, trying to balance as well as you could as you grabbed your clutch off of the table and went to the bar to pay off your tab. You weren’t completely drunk, but you were definitely tipsy and you were naturally clumsy, so nights like this were always an interesting time, especially when you were in heels. When you got to the bar to pay though, you were surprised to be informed that your tab was already paid for. “Who did that?” you asked the bartender, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Adrianna was just about finished with but still in law school and Celeste was a teacher so you could never ask them to pay for your drinks. Maddie was a paralegal and made a good salary but still, you made enough on your own to pay for your drinks, so who…? 

Your question was answered though when you felt a familiar pair of hands glide along your waist and land on your hips. You turned your head the slightest bit and an immediate heat flooded your body as you whispered, “Spencer… Hi. I thought I heard your voice earlier. When did you get back?” Your emotions were conflicted at his sudden appearance because you had overheard him talking with his group of friends earlier and it had honestly upset you, but now that he was practically wrapped around you, your mind flooded with memories of his hands on your body in the most intimate way…

“Just got back this morning. The team met up here to celebrate and I was surprised to see you here,” he replied. His voice lowered and his lips grazed the shell of your ear as he mumbled, “You look irresistible in that dress by the way.”

“I…Thank you,” you breathed, feeling your heart rate increase as his hands massaged your hips. “And thanks for paying for my drinks, you didn’t have to…”

“But I wanted to,” he told you, gently nipping at your ear lobe which made your cunt clench around nothing in desperation for more of his touch. Truth be told, it had been a week since you and Spencer last hooked up and you hated to admit that you had gotten dependent on his touch lately. 

Your impure thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle piercing the air, and your head snapped in the direction it came from, to see two people you recognized from pictures in Spencer’s apartment. They must be from the BAU as well. You made eye contact with the perky looking blonde woman and offered a smile as the man beside her asked, “Pretty boy, why don’t you introduce us to your friend here?” 

“Oh, I-I thought everyone had left,” Spencer said, instantly making space between the two of you. You looked at Spencer’s panicked expression that quickly changed into something more neutral as he introduced you by name and then said to you, “These are two other members of the BAU. Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia.”

“It’s nice to meet you two,” you told them, a smile on your face as you raised your hand in greeting. “Penelope, you’re the tech girl right?” you asked after a few moments of going through your memories of what little Spencer had told you about his job. 

“That’s me! Resident tech genius because boy genius here refuses to get to know technology!” she replied chipperly. 

“Oh trust me, I know,” you said with a giggle, leaning into Spencer’s side as you remembered the last time you two had gotten lonely at the odd hours of night and wanted to video chat each other to get off. Spencer struggled to get the video call to work and it had ended up being muted for a few minutes before you finally got him to unmute himself so you could hear everything his surprisingly filthy mouth had to say to you. 

“Well it’s nice to finally meet the girl who is getting pretty boy out of his shell,” Derek said, flashing you an award winning smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m glad you all are keeping him safe out there in the field,” you replied. 

“All in a day’s work,” Derek said with a chuckle. He checked his watch before exaggeratedly yawning and telling Penelope, “Well baby girl, I think we should get going. Don’t want to hold these two up any longer than we already have. You two have a good one.”

“Thanks Derek,” Spencer mumbled as he watched the pair walk off and out the door. You watched as Spencer’s eyes did another sweep of the bar before his attention was back on you, turning you toward him and pulling you into his front, his hands snaking their way around to your ass and giving a light squeeze as he returned to kissing your ear and neck. 

Your hopeful thoughts from the conversation with Derek and Penelope were instantly abandoned and replaced instead by flashes of your intimate moments with Spencer over the last few months. Your hands drifted upward with one resting on his shoulder and the other lacing into his cropped hair as you let out a quiet moan in Spencer’s ear before asking, “Take me home?”

“God yes,” Spencer whispered, pulling away and turning you around so you were in front of him. To anyone watching it would look like he was simply helping you keep your balance as the alcohol in your system continued to impair your coordination, but only you knew the real reason for the closeness. So as you walked the block to the parking lot, you occasionally let your ass rub against the growing problem in Spencer’s slacks which earned low groans and a squeeze of your hips as you two made your way to Spencer’s car which was tucked away at the back of the lot away from other cars. 

When you got there, Spencer pinned you against the side of his car and his lips were on yours in an instant. After a few seconds, he pulled away for a moment and between panting breaths he asked, “Is this okay? You’ve been drinking, I didn’t want to-”

“You aren’t taking advantage of me,” you promised before he could complete his sentence. “I only had two margaritas and a shot and a ton of food. If you want to breathalyze me, agent, go ahead, but I promise you I’m all here and I’ve missed your hands on me.” As you said this, you carefully hooked one leg around Spencer’s waist and pulled your hips closer together with a smirk gracing your lips. 

“I trust you,” he whispered before your lips crashed together again. You once more laced one hand into his curls and used the other to pull him closer as your tongues began lapping into each other’s mouth, desperation and pure need guiding your actions. Shocks of pleasure began flowing down to your core and you felt light headed as Spencer rutted his hips into yours, seemingly desperate for any sort of friction. The moment that his hard cock brushed against your cunt you let out another moan that was swallowed by Spencer’s mouth before he was moving one of his hands from the grip he had on your ass.

Within seconds you heard the tell-tale sign of the car doors unlocking and Spencer was opening the door for you to get in. Rather than going over to his side to quickly drive to one of your apartments though, he instead pulled at the levers at the base of the passenger seat and began scooting the seat backward and flat, sending you into a near laying position and dizzying your senses. “Spencer, what-?” you asked as you regained your composure after a few moments. 

“I can’t wait,” was his reply before he began tucking himself into the now more open floorboard and pulling your panties down your legs. 

“What about- What if we’re caught-? Your job-!” you managed to get out in clipped sentences. 

“No cameras, no cars near us, it’s fine,” he replied quickly. “I just need to taste you,” he added, his voice almost dark with desire which had your cunt clenching around nothing again as your own desire overtook your anxiety about getting caught.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders and pulled your hips close to his face before you felt the flat of his tongue on you, going from your entrance to your clit before he stopped there and began focusing on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a sinful noise as one hand gravitated toward his hair to hold him close as he began sucking on your clit, not wanting to let go of the feeling. 

After a few breathtaking moments, Spencer pulled away slightly and mumbled, “You’re so wet, fuck…” The vibrations of his voice on your core made a high pitched cry escape your lips and he chuckled before asking, “You like that?”

“God yes,” you replied breathlessly as your chest heaved as the pleasure began to build already in the pit of your stomach. “I missed you,” you found yourself confessing as your hips bucked up to meet his tongue as he returned to his assault of your dripping cunt. Spencer’s only response was to shift and add two fingers to the mix which caused you to cry out his name as he hooked them skillfully, hitting the spot he knew could make you fall apart within seconds if he got it just right. “Oh fuck, right there- Spencer, I- shit…” 

“Come on baby,” he mumbled against you as his long fingers began stroking his target within you, causing the tight coiling feeling in your abdomen to increase more and more. 

It all became too much when Spencer began kitten licking at your clit at the same time and the coil snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing over your body as your orgasm ripped through you. A loud moan slipped past your lips as your grip on his hair tightened and Spencer pulled his fingers out quickly before beginning to lap at your cunt like a man starved, holding down your erratically bucking hips as you slowly began coming down from your high. Overstimulation took over after a few moments and you gently pushed Spencer’s head away as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Spencer obliged, pulling away and wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking the remnants of you from his fingers as he chuckled. 

You joined in on his laughter after a few seconds and the question that had been on your mind all night slipped past your lips, “Is it casual now?” Knowing it was a loaded question though, you panicked and quickly pulled Spencer up and into a kiss before he could answer. For good measure, you made sure to keep him preoccupied by teasing him as he drove you back to your apartment where he made sure to thoroughly make up for his week away on the case. 

A few weeks had passed and you were out with your girls again to celebrate Adrianna finally graduating law school. It had been a long and arduous journey for her, but she made it! So before she had to buckle down once more to study for the bar exam, the four of you went out to a nice, new Italian restaurant that had opened only a couple of weeks prior. The restaurant had great reviews, and most importantly to Adiranna, an excellent wine list. So the four of you celebrated with delicious pasta, only one glass of wine for you, and began on dessert - a tiramisu that smelled heavenly. 

As the dessert was being brought out by what seemed like half the kitchen staff who were all warmly congratulating Adrianna, your eyes drifted past them when you heard a distinct nickname being called out teasingly from across the restaurant. Pretty boy. You made eye contact with the man in question and like an instinct your heart rate began to increase and heat began to pool down into your core. It was a Pavlovian response at this point, as Spencer had explained to you the first time you brought up the fact that you would get turned on at the mere sight of him, even if it was in no way sexual. You averted your eyes a moment later and bit your lip as you shifted in your seat, thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the tension building in your core. 

“You okay?” Maddie’s voice asked, breaking through the flashes of when Spencer dragged five orgasms out of you that night after the bar. 

“Just a headache, red wine doesn’t really agree with me,” you told in a half-truth. Red wine really wasn’t your forte, but it was what Adrianna wanted so that’s what you had been sipping on slowly throughout the meal. “I think I’m gonna head to the restroom to take a Motrin, I’ll be back. Maybe the lights will be a bit less harsh in there.”

“Maybe so. I’ll make sure to save you some tiramisu,” Maddie said as you stood up and began making your way across the restaurant to where you noticed the restrooms were earlier. You weren’t really going to the restroom to take some medicine or get away from what really wasn’t even that harsh of lighting in the dining area. There was some part of you that hoped that even from across the restaurant Spencer could tell that you needed him and would get the message to meet you in there. 

Of course as you passed the table Spencer was at, it was filled with the rest of the BAU members, most of whose attention was on the man animatedly talking about the wine and pasta selections. You thought you had gone unnoticed until you heard a low wolf whistle before the comment, “Go and get some loving, pretty boy.”

“Shut it!” you heard the distinct voice of Penelope snap as you kept your head down and made your way to your destination. 

Right as your hand reached up to push the restroom door open, you looked back to see if Spencer had followed you like you hoped, and to your body’s joy he did. Glancing at his lips as he wet them with his tongue, you felt the dampness in your underwear growing as your breathing began to pick up its pace along with your heart. “Hey,” you said simply. 

“Did you want to-?” was all Spencer asked before you nodded vigorously which earned you his lips as he gently pushed you into the single person restroom before locking the door. Spencer’s hands were on you in an instant, one diving into the low v-cut of your dress and beginning to massage your breast, thumb flicking over your already hard nipple as you moaned into his mouth. “If I knew you would have been here I may have dressed a bit nicer,” Spencer commented as he moved from kissing your lips to your neck, your hands desperately roaming his frame as he explored yours. 

“You always look amazing,” you told him earnestly as he hiked you up onto the sink’s counter space and pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder so he would have better access to your chest. “Oh, God, Spencer…” you whispered as he took your sensitive bud into his mouth and began sucking. It wasn’t long before he moved on from the nipple to the surrounding skin and started to bite and suck which you desperately hoped would leave a mark. You loved it when he marked you because it made things feel more permanent, even if just for a few days.

Before you knew it, your legs were being nudged apart and Spencer’s fingers were teasing your entrance as he asked, “Are you ready?”

“Please,” you begged. The sound was breathy and high-pitched, but you didn’t care much about how desperate you sounded because you knew the sounds you made drove Spencer crazy. 

“Turn around,” he said in a low voice as he helped you jump off of the counter. You didn’t even get the opportunity to tease Spencer or spread his own arousal over his head before you were being bent over the counter with your panties pushed aside as he quickly shoved into your throbbing core. Your moan was muffled as Spencer’s large hand came around and covered your mouth and he gritted out, “We don’t have long.”

You whimpered into Spencer’s hand as he pounded into you from behind, your exposed breast occasionally grazing against the cold countertop causing the most delicious mix of pleasure to course through your body. He always felt so big from behind and tonight was no exception, but the rate and rhythm that he was going at had the coil in your core building quickly. “Spencer, oh, fuck! I-”

“I’m close too,” was Spencer’s grunted out response as the grip he had on your hip tightened as his thrusts began to get sloppy. You don’t know if it was because of the prospect of getting caught, or what, but after a few more thrusts, Spencer was already losing it, whispering, “Baby, I- Shit, shit, shit! I’m coming, fuck-” 

You felt his hot release filling you up and you let out a moan in response, so close to your own peak, but instead of continuing his ministrations like he normally would, Spencer pulled out and began cleaning himself up. You stood there speechless for a moment, still bent over the counter with your heart racing and chest heaving as you recovered from your almost orgasm. Spencer had never left you hanging like that. Maybe to edge you to try and get your body to do what it still hadn’t managed to, but never to deny you an orgasm. 

Spencer approached you from behind once more and recovered your core with your underwear before beginning to straighten up your dress to help you look presentable. He turned you around and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before chuckling and telling you, “I think you may want to fix your makeup a bit.”

“I-I will,” you quietly agreed with a nod, watching as he ducked his head and left you in the bathroom alone, hot, bothered, and honestly a bit pissed off. You quickly relocked the door and went to the restroom, trying to rid your underwear and body of the traces he left behind with his abrupt finish. After cleaning up, you went to work fixing your makeup as best you could and hoped that with all of the wine in their system your friends wouldn’t notice that it was slightly less perfect than when the night began. 

As you quietly made your way out of the restroom, you froze when you heard Derek’s voice coming from around the corner as he asked, “That love toy of yours treating you well?” 

Your blood ran cold as Spencer responded, “Oh, I- uh- Yeah. She is.”

“My man!” Derek said with a bright laugh before the conversation was prompted to return to non-sexual topics by someone else at the table. 

You felt your shoulders slump as your eyes casted themselves down to the floor and you just wanted a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. A sense of dread began to fill your body and your head began to feel heavy as your anxiety started to climb. Trying to breathe through the dizzying feeling, you kept your eyes down as you made your way past the table Spencer was sat at. When you reached your friends, you offered a small smile before telling them, “The headache is just getting worse, I think I need to get going. I’m sorry to be a downer…”

“Hey it’s okay! Get to feeling better!” Maddie told you, offering a smile to try and comfort you. 

“Thanks,” you said as you reached into your small purse and pulled out a few bills that should more than cover your fair share of the meal. “Congrats again, Adri. You earned it!” you told her with a fake chipperness in your voice that you hoped was convincing. 

Once that exchange was over, you quickly made your way out of the restaurant and into the cool night air, trying to convince your lungs to take deep breaths before a full blown panic attack set in. You should have known that all of this with Spencer was too good to be true. You should have known that he just wanted you for sex and nothing more. 

Even though you know you shouldn’t have, after that night meeting Derek and Penelope, you had let your mind wander just a bit and had imagined a little life with Spencer. An apartment smack between both of your jobs, going to the movies together, reading in silence on the couch, maybe even him showing you off at some team party after they closed a particularly hard case. But clearly none of that was in the cards for him… It was just a fantasy you had built in your head.

How did you let this drag on for so long? You pride yourself on being a strong and independent person and for the longest time had sworn off dating after the last disaster that had ruined your life. Yet here you were letting Spencer come crashing into your life, upturning everything you had built for yourself. A searing hatred started to rise in your chest, but it wasn’t directed toward Spencer. It was for yourself.

Your thoughts were interrupted though when a gentle hand was placed on your upper arm to get your attention. Just turning to look at Spencer made you dizzy once again and you braced yourself against the building to keep from falling. “Are you okay?” Spencer asked. “You’re still on the pill right? I didn’t even think about asking, I-”

“Yes I’m still on the stupid pill,” you choked out through your tight throat that felt like it was threatening to close up any moment. 

“Then what’s-?” he tried but you interrupted him. 

“I just thought you thought of me better than a ‘love toy…’” you whispered, the sound barely audible. 

Spencer reached for your hand and squeezed it gently which made your heart soar, but it came crashing down once again when he softly reminded you, “No attachments, remember?”

Panic reared its ugly head again as that dreadful feeling threatened to overwhelm you. So before you could break down in front of Spencer in front of the restaurant, you jerked your hand away and sharply told him, “You can go to Hell, Spencer Reid…” 

a/n: phew, that was... something! i think i need to go touch some grass... anyways, when i was plotting this, i couldn't help but think of another song that ended up causing their backstory, so i'm going to start writing a part two to this called 'butterfly effect' because i don't like unhappy endings. i hope to see you there! likes and comments are always appreciated!

xo, brooke :)

part two - butterfly effect

[five-flavor-soup]

i think it’s very funny that we realise zuko is Handsome(™️) the moment his hair starts growing out again at the same time that other characters notice this, and zuko literally gives zero fucks. song was like man this boy’s got a scar i can emotionally connect with AND he’s cute, jet has an instant obsession because that lee guy is playing hard to get, jin frequents the teashop just to stare at the pretty refugee and snags an awkward adorable date with him to stare some more. and zuko just. does Not notice. or care.

he’s so obsessed with going home that romance or attraction simply isn’t even an option in his mind. he is leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him. he is a serial dater in that way that the dating is basically one-sided and he is entirely unaware there was any dating happening in the first place, because he’s too busy to even look at someone twice. jet stalks him bc of this. katara briefly seems to treat zuko picking azula’s side as a betrayal in the sense of Cheating On Her. this is all one-sided.

zuko is entirely unable to compute this Whirlwind Romance thing. he has no idea what these ppl are talking about. he has things to do. love is In The Way and he is slashing through it with his dual swords like sokka sliced through the vines in the swamp. in s3 we suddenly have ma|ko without any lead-up, and it ends the moment zuko has a New Goal to work towards. he breaks up with his gf through a letter. he forgets about her the moment she’s out of sight. the fact that she’s in prison completely slips his mind until he’s literally about to be crowned fire lord, and that’s only because she decides to step back into his life.

there’s no time for romance when zuko has decided to have a Purpose to work on. is he attractive? zuko wouldn’t know and he doesn’t care. zuko has a job to do and whether it’s catching the avatar or teaching the avatar firebending or breaking ppl out of prison or helping the angry watertribe girl who always entertains the idea of freezing him to a tree get closure for her mother’s murder, it’s all still a job. no time for kissing or blushing or dates when you’ve got a fatherlord to dethrone and a world to save. none of his dreamy hairflips and handsome brooding are intentionally attractive but it’s perceived as such anyway and that is HILARIOUS to me

[astrophileous]

Derek giggling when Bug starts to waddle due to pregnancy 🤭 she doesn’t find it funny or endearing at all but he literally cannot stop watching her. He tells the team about it too and they just.. kinda smile and nod because they’re just happy that he is.

Somewhat a continuation of this other Love Bugs blurb. Thanks for the request love! (and apologies for the delay because I've been very focused on The Countdown lately)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer stretched his back at the mysterious and unfamiliar sound. Next to him, JJ's eyes squinted in concentration.

"You hear that, too?" JJ mumured as she studied her surroundings, trying to pinpoint where exactly the sound was originating from.

Spencer nodded in confusion. "Who the hell—"

The question died in his throat when his eyes finally landed on the figure sitting across the room.

"No way." Spencer's elbow jabbed JJ's side, snatching her attention. "It's Morgan."

"Morgan? Derek Morgan?" JJ craned her neck to see around the partitions that blocked her direct line of sight. "What is he—don't tell me. Is he... is he giggling?"

As if confirming the ridiculous notion, Derek proceeded to cover his mouth and broke into, not laughter and not even a chuckle, but a series of giggles that made his broad shoulders shook. JJ and Spencer exchanged an incredulous look before they meandered sneakily towards him.

"Someone's happy," JJ quipped as she leaned back against the conference table, right next to where Derek was sitting.

The man in question looked up at the sudden interruption.

"What are you even watching in there?" Spencer asked curiously, trying to take a peek at the screen of Derek's phone that the latter man had been grinning at for the past few minutes.

Instead of tilting his phone away, Derek unexpectedly faced the screen towards his two coworkers instead, giving them an unobstructed view of what appeared to be a video of you.

"Penelope sent it to me." Derek grinned before pressing replay. "She waddles."

The video started playing then, showing a footage of you walking like a penguin as you struggled to carry the various snacks inside your arms. You looked up to the camera at the sound of Penelope's laughter, your face twisting into a pout when you noticed that it was pointed towards you.

"Peennn," you whined childishly. "Are you filming for him again?"

"He said he wants to see one where you waddle, Beets."

The scowl you were wearing was clearly visible through the screen. "Tell him to stop. It's not cute."

"I don't know." Penelope hummed. "It's pretty damn adorable from where I'm sitting."

The video ceased to black after that, and Derek retracted the device without ever wiping the smile off his face.

"You've been watching this for the past ten minutes?" Spencer questioned.

"Yeah."

The younger man looked as if he had something else to say, but he never got the chance to, as Derek was quick to immerse himself back in the video and watching it so earnestly as if it was the greatest movie in the history of mankind. Spencer and JJ shared a look before making themselves scarce. It was definitely weird seeing Derek act this way, but they didn't mind it one bit if it implied Derek's unadulterated happiness and your guaranteed safety.

For the rest of their stay in Louisville, Kentucky, the BAU became witness to Derek's blooming glee as it incessantly doubled in size with every video Penelope sent his way. More often than not, he'd let the team watch the videos as well. After all, they had also been missing your presence in their midst since you began your maternity leave, and every single one of them couldn't wait to finally welcome your baby boy into the world when the time finally came.

Derek was buzzing with excitement the moment they boarded the jet, impatiently counting down the minutes until he would see you again as the jet started its ascend. An hour before they were supposed to land, his phone began to ring in his pocket, flashing with the affectionate contact name that he had assigned for the team's tech analyst.

"Yeah, babygirl? What?" The sudden raising of his voice caught the attention of everyone on the jet. They watched from their respective seat as Derek sat up straight, running a frantic hand over his face. "Okay. Yeah? And how is she? That's good. Alright, thanks for calling. Keep me posted."

The call ended after that, and Derek, uncharacteristically, proceeded to sit in silence for the following minute as if he had been frozen in time.

"Everything okay?" Rossi asked, voicing the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"That was Penelope. It's (Y/N)." The atmosphere shifted. "She's going into labor."

[rifari2037]

Antis : Zutara shippers mischaracterised Katara by saying that she acts motherly towards Aang.

Forgive me if I consider it motherly, when two characters have exactly the same gesture as La Pieta (an art of Virgin Mary cradles the body of her son, Jesus).

The writers actually admitted that they were inspired by La Pieta, so I'm not just assuming. And the writers also said, their dynamic like babysitter and a kid she look after

Out of the 'mischaracterised' thing - because the writers themselves admit that - for some people, such a dynamic doesn't feel romantic, but weird. Very, very weird.

Antis : Katara never has feelings for Zuko. In fact, Katara is like a little sister that Zuko always wanted.

Oh yeah, a little sister who touches his face and thumb on his lips. Is that a normal thing for siblings to do???

It's also funny to me, because as far as I know Katara never examine someone's wound first when she heal them, she always streams water onto her palm and heal them straight away.

Like what she did to Jet...

Or to Aang...

Or even to Zuko in final battle...

So, what exactly did Katara think of Zuko in the Crystal Catacombs when she touched his scars????

Unless...

Antis : Zutara is the worst ship ever! Zuko and Katara can never be together. Their elements are opposites and do not mix well.

Yeah, fire and water are opposite, they can't understand each others and work together. Ever!

And it's not like there's a movie specifically about the elements of fire and water falling in love and find a way to be together, they touch each other and make steam has ever existed.

Bonus :

And they're kissing in the end

Oh, I'm sure they just forgot to say 'yet'.

Antis : I don't understand Zutara shippers. Zuko and Katara has no chemistry at all!!

Okay, well, this is the meaning of chemistry in relationship 👇🏽

For example, a story about a man who dies to save a princess he loves.

Meanwhile the princess tries her best to save him, regardless of the dangers ahead.

Despite being badly injured and very weak, the man tries to reach the princess, knowing that she is in danger.

When there's a chance, the princess grabs the man she loves who dying of his injury. She looks very sad, worried, and afraid of losing him.

The princess has the ability to heal, usually she uses her magic hair, but this time she heals the man using her tears (which means water). Miraculously, the water healed the man.

After he recovers, the man slowly opens his eyes, he looks at the princess and smile at her.

And the princess smile back in happiness.

This love story only beautiful if there is chemistry between the characters, right? Now, I wonder, which ATLA characters have the same story narrative???

[traveler-at-heart]

Cat's out of the (super) bag

Summary: Natasha doesn't like going on missions with you. Learning the truth might make her change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Big thanks to @soggy-wet-cat for hearing this idea before I wrote it :)

--

Fury was going soft.

That was the only way to explain your presence on most of Natasha’s missions.

Rogers, she gets. He’s a super soldier and as capable as Natasha is, it doesn’t hurt to have an enhanced individual around.

But you.

Always slow, always too relaxed for Natasha’s liking. Insisting you could do more, but last week you weren’t even able to pick a lock.

Not to mention how much you avoid hand to hand combat. Natasha suspects it’s because your skill level is very low.

“She’d do better out of the field” Natasha complains for the tenth time. Fury smirks. “This isn’t funny. I’m risking my neck to protect her and she’s not even worried about getting better. I’m not doing missions with her anymore”

“Now, hold on” Fury protests. “That’s not for you to decide. And I thought you trusted me”

“It’s her I can’t trust”

“Too damn bad. You have a mission. No Rogers this time. And I better hear it went well, Romanoff”

Natasha rolls her eyes and leaves his office.

It will only go well if she convinces you to sit and wait at the jet.

—

“What did you do to piss off Romanoff?”

“Morning to you too, Nick” you smile, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. “I don’t know. It’s pretty obvious she doesn’t like me”

“I know that. Have you done anything to upset her?”

“I barely speak to her and when I do she doesn’t answer” you shrug your shoulders, going back to every interaction you’ve had with the redhead. Her intense glare comes back to haunt you. “Do you think she knows?”

“You tell me. Did you screw up?”

“I keep a low profile. Like you asked me to” you nod, knowing how important this is for him.

“Better stay that way. You’re both leaving for a mission tomorrow” the man hands you a folder and you skim it. “Keep your head down and don’t make her angrier”

“Is that even possible?”

“You don’t wanna know”

—

It’s a mess from the start. You try to stay away from Natasha, but every time your attempts go in the worst way possible. Like when she’s walking down the jet, and you move aside so she has space. Except you end up pushing a few buttons on the console and Natasha has to come back and straighten the ship.

“Stay still” she mutters, glaring. You nod and sit on your hands, more concerned with the woman’s temper than about the mission.

“Wait here” is all she says after landing the jet.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a very simple mission” Natasha says, without looking at you, focused on adjusting her widow bites. “So, if you really want to help, stay out of my way”

“That’s not the plan. I’m supposed to watch the south entrance”

“They’ll never even noticed I inflitrated the building”

“You’re not my boss. Fury is. And if he wants me to stand outside and watch the south entrance, then that is exacly what I’ll do, Natasha”

The redhead finally turns back to look at you, surprised. This is the first time she’s seen you upset. You’re walking past her, not bothering to look her way… have you always been this tall? It always seems like you’re trying to look small.

“Hey” Natasha tries to make you turn, grabbing your arm. She’s surprised by how strong you are. “You better not screw up. Or I’ll make sure you’re on desk duty for the rest of your career, Y/L/N”

“Oh, now that’s funny. I’ve been here far longer than you” you lean forward, whispering. Natasha tries to understand what you mean, her eyes scanning your features for a sign. Aware of how close you are to her, you take a step back and jump out the door, ignoring the ladder.

Ridiculous, to think that you (you!) are an incompetent agent.

Maybe Fury was wrong for asking you to do this.

You’re kicking the ground, huffing every few minutes, still fuming at Natasha’s words. All this time, you thought she didn’t like you and though it sucked, you could live with that. But saying you were bad at your job when it was the exact opposite makes you see red.

“Y/N?” Natasha says over the comms.

“Here” you answer.

“A little help”

Those three words make your stomach drop. Natasha asking for your help?

This must be life or death kind of bad.

“Tell me where you are” you ask, breaking into the building.

“Intelligence room. Surrounded by at least 20 guards”

“Use the vents to go out and grab one of their vehicles. I’ll distract them”

“You’re gonna take down 20 people all on your own?”

“Just do as I say, Romanoff”

It feels good to finally use all your strenght. You practically rip open a door that sets off an alarm, and then you throw a couple of grenades around.

Now, all eyes are on you.

Sure enough, it takes them a few minutes to come find you, but you’re ready to shoot at the first guards, and when the second wave has gone through their ammo, you prepare for hand to hand combat.

“I’m out but there are two individuals after me. Towards the east, away from the jet”

“Got it. Gentleman” you turn to the man. “Change of plans. Let me go or die. Whichever is fine by me”

They laugh, until you send one of them flying across the room, his neck snapping.

“Who’s next, ladies?”

—

How could this mission have gone so wrong? Now Natasha is navigating the snowy road on a motorcycle, being chased by two of the guards and dodging their bullets.

The cold air is stabbing her hands and face but she has to keep going. She is too far away to communicate with you, but hoped you had the good sense of going back to the jet.

She’d find a way to survive.

Or maybe not, as she notices a third motorcycle joining the chase.

Through the rearview mirror, she sees the new person approaching one of the guards. A fight ensues and an exchange of shots. Next thing Natasha saw was the motorcycles colliding.

“Y/N?” she tries the comms, hoping you aren’t stupid enough to be knocking down people. Whoever those two were, the force of the hit was enough to kill them.

And yet, one of them begins to run after Natasha and the man still chasing her. The figure is fast approaching, which is ridiculous, considering Natasha was going 150 miles per hour.

The brute is clearly scared, as his movements become more erratic, trying to get rid of Natasha and the mysterious figure at the same time. He shoots behind him and then at Natasha, getting to one of the tires in her bike.

She tries to keep the handle steady, but can’t turn on the curve ahead of her. Natasha is sent flying directly to a river, the cold water making her momentarily paralized. The currents confused her, and she couldn’t tell up from down. She swam and swam, until her arms were too tired.

She began to drift, and the last thing she saw was a shadow hovering above her.

—

“Natasha? Nat?” you plead, doing CPR as gently as you can. You don’t want to add cracked ribs to her list of injuries.

Finally, after what felt like hours but were only seconds, Natasha lunges forward, coughing and throwing up water. You hold her head, helping her until she can breathe again.

“I’m freezing” Natasha complains, looking around. “Did we lose them? How did you…” she then turns to you and widens her eyes. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, he shot me. It’ll stop in a second. And yes, we lost them. Though I’m sure HYDRA is sending more people to track us down. Come on” you stand up, offering your hand. Natasha takes it and is once again surpised by how strong you are.

Your body is also warmer than hers, even if you dived to rescue her. On pure instinct, Natasha comes closer, practically melting against your body heat.

“You’re hiding something” she states and you chuckle.

“Now’s not the time. Come on, I’ll carry you. There must be a safe house close to the river”

Natasha climbs to your back, and as if she weights nothing, you walk down the river, trusting she’ll keep an eye for any place to hide.

Sure enough, after ten minutes of walking, the redhead gets your attention and points at the right. There’s a small cottage hiding between some trees.

“Here” you say as you kick open the door, not bothering to find a key. You set Natasha down and go around the place, looking for blankets and anything that will make her warm.

“Did it stop bleeding?” she asks, looking at your abdomen. You nod, placing a blanket over her shoulder and checking for other injuries. “Are you a super soldier?”

You smile, thinking that Fury will be up in arms. But technically, you didn’t tell Natasha. She figured it out.

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who else knows?” Natasha says, pulling the blanket closer, as if it will help her cover from you as well. It’s clear she doesn’t trust you right now.

“Fury asked me to keep a low profile. He’s the only one that knows. I think he’s concerned about the integrity of SHIELD. You know him, keeping an ace up his sleeve”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Thirty years, give or take. My existence is top secret, and I spent some time away from the job. My father died, and he was the last person that I knew before everything, so… it was hard, I guess”

“I’m sorry”

“Me too. I didn’t like lying to you or pretending to be something I’m not”

Natasha kicks herself for not noticing sooner. It’s so glaringly obvious now that she has to roll her eyes at herself.

Your build, the fact that you never seem to be tired or catching your breath. Hell, the fact you never train with anyone else.

Natasha made an assumption and ran with it, instead of trying to see past it.

“Hey, you ok?” you ask, craddling her head in your hands. “Did you hit your head? Feel dizzy?”

“I’m just cold”

“We can’t start a fire” you regret, looking out. “Here” you pull her closer, your arms going around her shoulders. She tries to protest, but whatever she was about to say dies in her throat as soon as she feels how warm you are.

“This suit is all wet” she says, pulling away and taking it off. “Don’t look or I’ll kill you”

“Uh… what is going on?” your eyes dart to the ceiling, blushing. Then, you feel Natasha’s cold skin against you. “Jesus, Nat. You’re freezing”

You bury the both of you in more blankets, and feel her melting against your side. On instinct, your arms go around her waist and bring her closer, to which she responds by burying her face on the crook of your neck.

“So I can’t look but I can touch, huh?”

“Glad we understand each other”

—

“So…”

“So” Natasha says, landing the jet back home.

“Can we be friends? Friendly, at least?”

“No” she stands up, walking towards you. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you’ve been looking at me for the entire ride home”

“Can you blame me?” your eyes drift to her cleavage, remembering how she was practically naked and clinging to you as if her life depended on it.

“Wine and dine me, Y/L/N. And we’ll take it from there”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Am I interrupting?” Fury shouts from the hangar.

“Yes” you say, but Natasha leaves, glaring at Fury on her way out.

“I’ve known you for thirty years and you still can’t keep it together around a pretty lady. And now I’m in trouble too” Fury says, clearly displeased.

“Hey, at least you don’t have that problem with Rogers, huh?”

“For now, Y/L/N. There’s always some trouble waiting around the courner”

You laugh and clap his back, leaving the jet. His plan may have failed, but you’re certainly not complaining.

Not when you have a hot date waiting for you.

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 3!

Part 1 Here!

MINORS DNI

CW: fem! reader, reader referred to as she/her, ML! Masturbation, HJ, pet names for reader(pretty, gorgeous, talks of creampies, live streamed torture, blood, gore, murder,

He sat and watched you at first, just watched.

Just like he promised himself.

That thought was thrown out the window the moment you laid over that chaise lounge, what a gorgeous sight you were. Your perfectly voluptuous body wrapped in a silken night robe, why wasn’t this a painting in his bedroom— Hell why not a mural on his ceiling that he could see every single night.

His hand is already in his pants, pulling out his long, pierced cock. He’s teasing the tip and playing with his metal ring. He can’t help but wonder if you’ve ever been with a guy that has their dick pierced… If you’ll be shocked.

Oh just imagining your little innocent housewife reactions to things like that has heat racing in the jet stream of blood that’s rushing to his dick.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” He wishes so badly you were with him.

How he’d fuck you up against this window so hard, your bare tits pressed up against the glass. Instead of staring at you down there, he’d be seeing your husband; shocked at his chubby little wife with her pussy spread wide, sheathing a man that can take better care of her. Best of all her elated expression at everything about it.

That’s the part that has pre mixing in with the lubricant, your expression. He wonders what you’d look like, brows hiked up, biting your lip.

“Oh f-fuck pretty, you’re so gorgeous” He wants you underneath him. Looking up at him with your pretty eyes, your arms hooked around his neck, legs locked around his mid section. He’s gonna fill you up so good. All the way to the brim and over.

He has at least some restraint… Oh~ the second he does fuck you, he’s going to be so pent up, he almost laughs maniacally at what he’s doing; edging himself to a pretty thing he “can’t” have.

~

You’ve been there for a while, and he’s been there watching you. He’s starting to really notice that something is wrong, even without knowing you for very long, he can tell you aren’t just napping anymore.

Jasper leaves for just a minute to collect a camera and cables from another section of the home before returning and setting it up facing you. He labels that one ‘sun room’ in his phone, and then heads out to his very conspicuously inconspicuous white van.

He’s gonna check up on someone real quick…

The tracker he put in your husband’s car pings him at an office building, but when Jasper hacks the security system his office is empty up there… Hmm, how curious indeed.

He calls your husband’s receptionist, and he tells Jasper that he’s in a meeting at the moment.

When he looks at the cameras to confirm it’s funny that he’s just not in the building anywhere visible at least.

He’ll just make a copy of your husband’s phone later. He’s got a feeling… Not all bad. He’s in a state of slight turmoil, on one hand he’d be ecstatic to find out your husband’s cheating or something else terrible so that he could swoop in, but at the same time, he’d rather you not get hurt.

He muses his hair frustrated as he contemplates problems and how to solve them.

For right now, he’s late for a livestream.

~

The clone he made of your phone lights up next to him, and he sees you typing a message. Before he can read it, he watches you erase it, and then it dims once more.

“Hey Y/N! hope you’re alright, what’s been up?” He texts you… Gods, he really shouldn’t have right after… That’s so suspicious! But, he’s so deathly curious! He wants so badly to know what was on your mind, and what you almost shared with him.

His heart thumps, and his face reddens. He puts his hand onto his fist as he waits for a response, watching both phones…

Nothing.

~

It’s been days.

The gnawing boredom has almost fully made its comeback, when your phone clone lights up on a table behind him, he isn’t looking.

“Count backwards from one hundred, everyone~”

“100”

“Fuck him up!!!”

“Can i have his underwear?”

“99”

“99”

“98”

“Oh shit! First time here! i cant wait!”

“Welcome! i hope you enjoy your stay!” his chat is zooming by in front of him, but Jasper is still able to pick messages out and reply to them individually.

“Mmmf! mmmmmmf!!!!” A man with some socks stuffed in his mouth screams and writhes against barbed and razor wire restraints.

Jasper removes the leather strap that was wrapped and tied around the man’s mouth and hits the back of his head to get him to spit the socks out.

Guttural screams fill the van, and the docks they’re parked at. Birds in flocks fly off at the sound.

“Hey Jasper, you got a text from your other phone,” Issac bounds over, dropping them both into his (kind of full) hands.

“Howdy Jasper! sorry i went on a mini vacation! what have you been up to?”

He stares for a second thinking about how he’s been watching you through your windows for the past, oh, little over a week. You definitely did not go on a vacation. But he won’t ask, he doesn’t want to make you think about excuses.

Dev.In clears their throat, knowingly.

“I have to go.” is his answer as he slits the man’s throat and stops the livestream.

Jasper jumps into the driver seat and steps on the pedal.

In his van he’s going so fast the metal is rattling as he practically rolls over on every turn through suburb. Issac constantly “weeee!’s” in the back. In mere minutes he makes it home, and into the house before you can see him.

You arrive as he’s leaned up against the door, heart pounding in excitement making him almost dizzy! It’s exhilarating, he might have to have more torture streams just to give him that added bit of fun to his evenings when he has to feign innocence for you.

You knock on the door, and he answers it instantly. Shit. He’s so stupid, he thinks to himself, hopfully you don’t suspect anything.

Right away he notices that your eyelid is slightly more closed than usual and that you’re wearing a touch more makeup than usual in that spot making it more suspicious.

His mind instantly goes to your husband.

That might just be him pushing his own agenda onto you, but he has to ask, “What happened? are you alright?”

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Fifteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, Gunplay, mention of past rape, homophobic comments GEN. SMUT [All possible tags, not all apply]

Info: Ghost = kinky, your petty plans are interrupted, frat guys are the worst, if any male says 'tomcattin'' run, very, very fast; as a southern gal trust me on this one, sudden remembrance that Ghost is a criminal [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Date & Time

September 3rd, 11:45

“Wine coolers in the hot tub, yes ma’am.” Luke sighed, leaning back against the rounded wall right in front of one of the jets, letting it pelt his back.

“You can’t stay in for long Luke it’ll irritate your sunburn.” Your sister spoke up, snatching the vape from your hands and hitting it.

“I know that, mother.” He grumbled, enjoying it while he could despite the nagging. He looked over to you and rolled his eyes when he saw you texting what he assumed was Anakin.

“Seriously?” Luke whined, reaching out for your phone but you held it up and away from him with a scowl.

“Leave me be.” You huffed, “I’m plotting.”

“Plotting?”

“Yes. Your demise.” You grinned and smiled wider when your sister snorted and covered her mouth, the drunken giggles making it more funny than it was.

“Shut up. You’re sexting Anakin aren’t you?” Luke smirked, putting his arms up to rest on the lip of the hot tub.

“So what if I am?” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You made me take a picture of you after you’d practiced flexing your non-existent abs.”

“Okay and?” Luke snapped, waving you off.

“And? You’re a whore just like me.” You smirked, laughing at Luke’s face. His mouth dropped open and he raised his eyebrows in feigned shock.

“That’s a low blow.” He shook his head.

“Mhm.” You nodded, finishing up your text and sending it off. “Like the one you gave Han under the dinner table?”

“Luke!” Lauren gasped, leaning forward and nearly tipping her drink into the bubbling water. “You did not!”

“Hey! Hey, shut it-“ He smacked at your shoulder with beet red cheeks.

“Well it was a low blow wasn’t it?” You giggled, your face almost sore from laughing at his spluttering voice as he tried to talk his way out of it.

“I told you that in confidence!” Luke muttered, embarrassedly shifting away from you to sulk.

“Shhh,” you reached over to pat his shoulder. “It’s nothing compared to what I’ve done.”

“Do tell.” Your sister prodded, shimmying her shoulders and giving you a cheeky expression.

“Absolutely not.” You broke out into a laugh, surprised at yourself for letting the alcohol loose your lips. “Shouldn’t have even said that.”

“I knew it.” Lauren said, scrunching up her nose and pointing at you. “I knew Ani was a freak. You owe me money Lukey.”

“What?” Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “You bet on my sex life?”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of your belly, rumbling and clawing at the sensitive little insecurities that resided there. You looked around you, scanning the tree line but not seeing the man you were looking for. Grabbing your phone you switched it off, your intuition telling you this wasn’t a conversation Ghost needed to hear.

“My husband SWEARS he saw Anakin walking into a sex shop a while back.” Your sister said, a prideful smile on her face. “Luke was with me when he mentioned it and Luke said ‘No way. He’s too calm.’ and I said that those are the ones you gotta watch out for.”

“So, Lukey owes me $5.00.” She clapped her hands once and rubbed her palms together.

“Did… are you sure?” You asked, your voice a bit louder than you meant it to be, so you dialed it back a bit. “Like he was for sure it was Anakin?”

“I mean… I wasn’t there. But he saw someone who dresses like him. Black hair, tall. Long sleeves though so didn’t see his tattoos.” You sister explained. “He only saw the back of him. But he was pretty sure it was him.”

“W-why didn’t you say something to me?” You asked, getting irritated at her nonchalance.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you!” She scoffed, “what’s your problem?”

“I- I don’t know… I’m sorry.” You shook your head and crossed your arms, taking another big swig of your drink. “How long ago was this?”

“I don’t know, a week or two? Something like that.” She shrugged, making eye contact with Luke nervously. “Why?”

“Nothing.” You said again, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Nevermind.”

“I- I’m sorry. Did I make you upset?” Your sister asked, grimacing.

“No.” You shook your head, looking out over the lake at the warm orangey red reflected by the setting sun. “No… I just- I’m thinking too much into this.” You took another big swig of your drink and coughed from the bitterness.

“Oh no…” Luke said quietly, looking over at your sister and back to you as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Hey, no. Don’t… there’s no reason to worry, Anakin isn’t like that. He loves you too much. He’s not that kind of guy.”

“I know that!” You huffed, leaning your head back in a deep groan. “But… you always said he was too good to be true! What- I mean he is a bartender.”

“Quit. You’re working yourself up over nothing sissy.” Lauren said, scooting closer to put an arm around you. “Maybe he just hasn’t found the right time to introduce… whatever it was he got. Or maybe it wasn’t even him! It’s okay.”

“Logically I know you’re right. But… but there’s something, I mean I’ve always felt like I wasn’t the best person for him,” you admitted sadly, thinking about your secret trysts with Ghost. “maybe he’s just finally figuring that out for himself.”

Could you have really been so caught up in your hidden life that you’d missed the signs of Anakin becoming more distant? He still always texted when he got home. He still always answered when you called. He still told you in detail about his shifts at work. You’d seen him turn a girl down twice.

It doesn’t make sense. Of course it doesn’t make sense, because Anakin would never do something like that. He would never act like you.

Pushing your guilt and shame onto him like this only heightened the insecurities, what if he is cheating because he suspects that you are?

“Aright, I think that’s enough.” Luke said, gently taking the beverage from your hand and sitting it aside. “Let’s go get some food in your belly, yeah?”

You nodded, standing up and letting the water drip off you for a moment before stepping out of the hot tub. You grabbed your phone and walked into the cabin without even wrapping your towel around you. Tipsy-stumbling into your room you grabbed shorts and a shirt along with a sweatshirt, going back to the bathroom to rinse off the chlorinated water with a quick shower.

Not bothering to wash your hair, you were in the middle of nowhere after all, you scrubbed up and rinsed off in record time. You hear a bit of noise and a soft thud before the shower curtain was ripped open and your face was grabbed by a leather hand.

Your natural instinct was to scream as your eyes widened in surprise, but hand had gripped you firmly beneath your cheekbones and over your mouth.

“Shhh- shut it. You outta be used to this by now.” Ghost grumbled, removing his hand only to smack you across the face with his other one.

“Where’s your phone?” He demanded, looking through your pile of clothes on the sink counter and finding it. “This isn’t ever supposed to be turned off. Do you understand me?” He said angrily, shutting off the water and pulling you out of the shower.

“Ghost! Be careful! Quiet, they’ll hear you.” You whispered, nervously glancing toward the door and yanking the towel off the rack to wrap around yourself.

“They won’t hear shit.” He said, nodding toward the door. “They’re still outside.”

He fumbled with your phone, switching it back on impatiently. Shaking it in front of your face when the screen lit back up.

“Never again.” He growled and grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you into the bathroom counter. With your phone tossed on the bathroom rug, he deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock.

“Do you understand me?” He asked, smushing your face against the mirror with one hand, his other on your hip to steady himself as he drove his cock into you from behind. A deep groan escaping his lips when he sheathed himself fully into your warmth.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He grunted, thrusting into you at a ruthless pace. Your ragged breath fogging up the mirror and gathering condensation as you tried to form words.

“Understood.” You whimpered, quiet and meek.

“What’d you say to them?” He demanded, pulling your hair roughly to tilt your head back. The motion so quick that it made you dizzy, you fumbled to pull your towel back up as it started to slip but realized it was no use, you may as well just let it fall to the floor.

“N-nothin’. Didn’t say anything.” You shook your head unable to look at him in the mirror, unable to look at yourself for fear of seeing your anxiety reflected back at you.

“You lying bitch.” His hand left your hip, reaching into the back of his jeans to pull out his gun.

He stopped his quick thrusts and changed his grip on your head, his fingers digging into the tender flesh beneath your jaw, squeezing the sides of your throat. The tip of his cock slowly, deliberately, nudging your cervix. It was uncomfortable, feeling him so deeply in such an odd position. The sharp ledge of the bathroom sink pressed into the soft tissue of your lower stomach paired with his deep, brutal strokes had you wincing in pain on the ascent and moaning with pleasure as he slowly dragged himself back down again.

The blood rushing through you crescendoed into a deafening roar as it swirled behind your eardrums, his fingers squeezing so tightly around your neck that your vision went blurry.

“Tell.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust. “Now.”

The next thing you heard was the sound of the gun’s barrel spinning, his grip on your neck loosened just enough to let you breathe and restore your vision so you could see him clearly when he pressed the gun to your temple. His pointer finger running alongside the barrel.

“Didn’t say anything.” You squeaked, your hands clawing at the faux granite countertop.

*Shk* *click* *click* nothing.

“Six rounds.” He said sternly. “That’s five left and one of ‘em has a bullet with your name on it.”

“Y-you wouldn’t dare.” You whispered, your eyes wide open in fear as you stared at the black eyes and gaping maw in the mirror.

“Guess we’ll see won’t we?” He asked, continuing with his slow pace, rolling his hips against you. “You trusted me with it yesterday, you don’t look like you trust me now. Why’s that?” He asked mockingly.

“Cause… cause you’re mad.” You whimpered.

“Oh, my Doe.” He shook his head, the cold and stone hard emotional wall he had up let out the tiniest bit of the warm comfort he often radiated. “I’m not mad.”

“I’m…” He sighed, tsk’ing before reinforcing that concrete wall to shield you from his feelings. He nudged your temple with the gun again, cocking it back with his thumb.

“Why’d you turn it off? What’d you say that you didn’t want me to hear?” He demanded, pressing it harder into your skull.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You whimpered, eyebrows furrowing, trying to shake your head.

“Did you tell them about me?” His thrusts getting faster the angrier you made him.

“No!” You denied it quickly, thinking back to what he’d most likely heard before you switched off your phone.

“Really? Cause it sounded like you were getting ready to tell them all about how you love it when I treat you like a cheap whore.”* His words smacking you in the face with the weight of the mechanical timbre behind it.

*link to AI audio

“N-no no I swear I didn’t.” You said frantically, trying to steady yourself and plant your hands firmly on the sink’s edge. “I promise I didn’t.”

*shk* *click* *click* and… you’re still breathing.

“Four.” He grunted and relaxed his grip on your neck, your face turning a blue shade that he wasn’t a fan of as he realized he was actually choking you. You coughed, your eyes watering as you tasted a metallic tang in your mouth. You’d split open the cut on your lip again.

“I didn’t say anything about you Ghost I promise I didn’t.” you heaved, sucking in deep half-breaths as he continued to plow into you.

“Then what was it?” He started to yell and remember where he was, quieting himself and stopping his movements to listen for any sign that Luke and your sister had heard him.

“It was Anakin.” You wheezed, “I wasn’t talking ‘bout you. I was talking ‘bout Anakin.”

Ghost laughed, a big hearty chuckle, the chin of his mask touching his chest as he lowered his head and the gun momentarily. He cleared his throat and continued on with his line of questioning after he’d collected himself.

“M’kay, what’d you say about him then Doe?” He asked, languidly thrusting into you, the gun pointed at you through the mirror instead of directly at you.

“I was just… projecting I think.” You said, your eyes darting away from his.

“Mmm?”

“Don’t… it’s not a big deal. It’s fine, I’m over it.” You lied as if you’d been able to easily banish the thoughts from your mind.

“It’s not fine. I know you.” He said angrily, tapping the mirror with the tip of his gun. “Look at yourself.”

“Ghost- it’s really…” you scowled suddenly, realizing you weren’t the only one who deserved to be questioned. “How did you get Anakin’s ring?”

“I stole it.” He answered automatically and turned the gun back to you again, moving it slowly and he twisted his wrist to tuck the barrel beneath your chin. “I’m asking questions. Not you.”

*shk* *click* *click *snap*

His leathered middle finger and thumb slipped past each other, his middle finger snapping against the meaty space where his thumb connected to his palm, making you jump and eliciting another chuckle from Ghost.

“Three. You really want to risk more? You’re at half way Doe.” He taunted you as he trailed the cool metal down your neck, stopping to nudge your stiff right nipple before continuing its journey to the heated, swollen bundle of nerves nestled between your puffy folds.

“Shhh, listen.” He said in a low tone, letting you hear the soft *tik* as he hit the safety on the pistol. “Hate to hurt my pussy before I’m through with her.”

The sight along the top ridge of the pistol was just a tiny bump along the smooth metal barrel, but it felt heavenly against your hot to the touch clit as it throbbed and begged for attention. His hips pistoned forward, his thighs smacking yours while he rubbed that dangerously delicious bump in circles over your clit.

A sinful moan left your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head as a wave of goosebumps so intense that it prickled all the way up to your cheeks, passed over you when he lodged himself deep inside and rutted up into you.

“Dirty little girl aren’t you? You like this?” He laughed, tapping the barrel against you to make you flinch before resuming the movement that had your head spinning.

“N-no.” You squeaked, through your clenched teeth that mirrored the firm squeeze your cunt gave his cock as it pulsed around him.

“So you are a liar.” His deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head, biting your lip and sucking on the wound leaking a droplet a blood into your mouth. “Love it.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling like his legs would give out after hearing your admission. “Christ, babydoll.” He moaned, a fresh gush of your wetness coating his length as he struggled to keep hold of his sanity.

Ghost wanted nothing more than to consume you. It was a feeling he hadn’t ever felt before. A burning desire for something more intimate than sex. More intimate than a tender kiss. He was inside you yes, but in that moment even that wasn’t enough. He wanted to devour you, he wanted to flay his ribcage open and shove you inside, even then he wasn’t sure that would be enough.

He thought he loved you before. He thought that deeply rooted need for you was the most powerful love capable of being felt. But he reminded himself in that moment that you were a goddess after all and you’d finally opened up the gate to your own slice of heaven and invited him to push it farther and farther until he could walk in and plant himself there for eternity.

That’s what faith is right? An all consuming desire for more, more, more. To be the best, to be worthy, to be loved. And just trusting blindly that it will eventually be returned? Is this what he was meant to feel when his mother dragged him to church as a kid? Is this feeling what they meant by ‘bask in the glory of god’s love’?

Because this must be what it feels like to love and be loved by a goddess. He was certain of it.

It was an all encompassing feeling that was so intense that he stopped moving completely and squeezed his arms around you as tight as humanly possible, maybe even akin to the strength of something a little less than human and a bit closer to beast. His breath was hot, heavy and ragged. His embrace so tight that it pushed the air from your lungs in a squeaky wheeze, he didn’t stop there. He kept going until his arms were shaking from the strain on his muscles and the pressure of it popped your back in a surprisingly good way.

Only then did he slowly unfurl his arms. He’d unknowingly used you to give himself a temporary compression vest; the kind that calms the nervous system with deep pressure therapy. He felt so much, so quickly that it had completely overrode his ability to function correctly.

For the first time in his life, Anakin Skywalker had fawned.

“Can you be really, really fucking quiet?” He panted, moving you even before you could whimper out a pitiful yes. He guided you onto the floor, too hazy with lust to care about anything but getting as close to you as he possibly could.

“Hold ‘em.” He said, tapping the side of your leg with his slick coated pistol. “Just like that.” Ghost groaned staring down at you as you wordlessly begged for him to dick you down like you so desperately needed him to.

With the crooks of your knees in your hands you pulled your legs to your chest and out to the sides, prying yourself open for him.

“Holy shit.” He breathed out, looking at the creamy mess between your legs. “I thought you were wet when I fucking raped you. You should see yourself right now.”

“Let’s see…” he said, taking his cock in his left hand to stroke slowly while he used the tip of the gun to slide over your puffy folds and nudge your clit again.

The cold metal circled your entrance and it took every ounce of self control you had not to scream out when he pressed the barrel past your pussy lips, plunging it as deep as the trigger.

*shk* *click* *click* “Goddamnit are you-“

He looked down at you in a state of awe as he watched you cum. Your stomach tensed so tightly he could see the individual muscles pulling beneath your soft flesh. He didn’t even care that you were letting out a devastating moan, long, breathy and drawn out. Unmistakable for anything other than pure, absolute, bliss.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, gently removing the barrel before plunging his thick length into its rightful place. He carelessly wiped the pistol on the side of your face just to humiliate you, but you were too out of it to care.

“Gods you’re beautiful.” Ghost spoke in a strained voice, even through the voice modifier it was noticeable. “So beautiful.”

“Takin’ me so well in this little fucked out pussy. Lettin’ me do what I want.” He whined, slipping his hands beneath you to grip your shoulders. His upper body keeping your legs pinned back so far that your knees touched the ground on either side of you. You felt him so deep, so extremely deep inside of you that if you weren’t already on cloud nine he would’ve sent you to an early grave.

“Gods, you sound so pretty... please shut up.” He panted, straining to cover your mouth from the awkward position his arms were in beneath you. “Shh, shut the fuck up. Please.”

“So wet. Squeezin’ me so tight. I’m gonna cum Doe,” Ghost’s hips thrust erratically, sloppily driving into you, pounding you down into the floor. “Want me to cum inside, huh? Be my little cumslut?” He grunted, the forehead of his mask tucked into the crook of your neck.

“Nasty bitch. Gettin’ fucked on the bathroom floor, loaded gun in your pussy and you just cum like the goddamn whore you were meant to be.” His hips driving into you in a way that made you feel him in your guts, but even that wasn’t good enough for Ghost he needed to be closer despite already cradling your folded body beneath him.

“Giving you a proper dickin’ aren’t I?” He chuckled, “too stupid to talk.”

“Mhm.” You breathed out from under his palm, just taking what he was giving without complaint because… what was there to complain about? He was giving you everything you needed and more.

The front door open and shut, the drunken slurring of Luke and your sister floating muffled and distorted beneath the bathroom door. Your nostrils flaring in panic, but Ghost kept going, shaking his head no.

“Almost.” He whined quietly, rutting into you at an unreasonable rate, only slowing when he pumped his load inside you, thick, creamy white mixing with your slick to make the most disgustingly gorgeous sounds possible.

“I… I will be back.” He panted, quickly pulling out and not bothering to even clean himself up as he fixed his clothes.

“Kisses.” He tapped the cheek of his mask with his pistol, waiting for you to give him a peck there before he tucked it away and stood you up on unsteady feet.

“I love you,” he squeezed your upper arms in his big hands, sliding his palms down the back of your arms to fold your fingers over his, holding them in place with his thumbs and bringing them to his ‘mouth’ to kiss. A gesture that sparked a nostalgic feeling in your stomach.

“Better clean up, we have shit to do.” He grunted, dropping your hands he hoisted himself up and swung one long, lanky leg out the window so he could land clumsily on his feet and jog behind the cabin and out of sight where he’d stashed his backpack, which happened to be a bit heavier than usual that night.

Diary Entry: September 4th

I’ve never been more happy. My life just keeps getting better and better and it’s all thanks to you. I can’t even be mad that I didn’t get an answer from you. Jesus Christ.

Never in all my gross little fantasies did I imagine I would be fucking my girlfriend with a pistol. Good fucking lord I’m so goddamn lucky. It’s truly a miracle, this is something of bucket list pipe-dream. Now if only I could get rid of the thoughts that came after. Those aren’t ones I would be willing to share for fear you’d ship me off to a freak farm for an extended stay. Honestly I’m a bit concerned now, after that.

I’m supposed to take you over to commit some level crime (not real crime). How can I survive seeing that after what I’ve just done with you? I’m not supposed to ravage you in the woods, but I might end up doing that. Though at this point I’m almost positive you’d be willing to let me. Maybe I will.

Gods I don’t know anything other than I love you… and I need to be headed back toward your cabin within the next hour.

Maybe I don’t need to be afraid of telling you who I am anymore. That would feel so… relieving. Despite my best efforts it really does eat away at me on the rare occasion. I’m stressed out, I’ve kept this up for way longer than I originally planned. I love it, the separation makes it easier on me mentally. The fear of rejection is almost obsolete. Ghost is capable of things with you that would be relatively impossible for Anakin. I’ve been the best man I could be, everything you deserve and more. But now it will all seem like a sham to you won’t it? After being Mr. Perfect I’ve ruined my opportunity to be a regular guy who’s made a few questionable choices.

I am that guy. I’m a good person. A good man.

But I am also Ghost. I am both. I don’t think it’s sustainable to be separate beings for much longer.

Date & time

September 4th, 12:27 Am

A tap-tap-tap on the glass of your window caught your attention, turning your head you saw the familiar plastic mask you’ve become so oddly attached to. Zipping up your black jacket you opened up the window and stepped up onto the nightstand beside the bed, much less gracefully than Ghost had done before. His leathered hands gripped your forearm and helped you pull yourself out of the window. Ghost thrust your very own small backpack in your hands.

“Hey! When did you grab this?” You asked with a tinge of annoyance. “Where’s all the stuff that was in it?”

“Chill out would you?” Ghost huffed, closing your window but leaving a small rock inn the tracks at the bottom to allow the both of you reentry later. “It’s in the top drawer of the dresser in there.”

“Ew.” You grumbled while following closely behind him. “Apparently you don’t know me as well as you seem to. You’d know I hate putting my things in places like that. Who knows what else has been in there!”

“Oh my god. You’re impossible.” He scoffed, reaching behind him to grab the back of your neck to pull you forwards to walk beside him. “I put it all in a gallon ziploc baggie. I do know you that well. Don’t ever doubt that again. Understand?” His tone was clearly annoyed, his body language changing slightly to a more guarded stance.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, receiving a grunt of acceptance.

You walked in silence, after a few hundred yards he finally relaxed again, slipping his arm over your shoulders instead of the iron grip he had previously on your neck. He rubbed your upper arm, as if apologizing through the comforting motion.

“Here’s the plan: We stake it out for a bit, see if anyone there smokes so-“

“Why would it matter if one of them smokes?” You interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, would you like to be in charge?” His ‘question’ dripping with condescension, tilting his head toward you with a small disapproving head shake. “As I was saying, We’ll need to see if anyone smokes. That way we will know how much time we have before someone comes outside.”

His head turning toward you again when you let out a soft ‘Oh.’ Of realization. He made a noise in his throat like he had expected you to say something snarky instead.

“After that we’ll start with the TP around the house, silly string the trees… then we’ll move on to chalking their cars. We’ll do it in that order.” He said firmly.

“Why? I figured we’d do the cars first, won’t they be closer?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes. That’s exactly why we’ll be doing them last.” He said with a nod. “Why would we start at the end of our route? We’ll be leaving the way we come in. Easier escape if they come out, you know?”

“Oh… yeah okay.” You nodded, giving him a suspicious look.

Although you knew he was a delinquent, it still surprised you when there were these moments of clarity. These were the moments when you realized he actually was a real criminal and not just someone playing a part. It was easy to forget all the things he’d done to you, all the horrendously illegal acts he’d committed just to gain entry into your life. He made himself so likable that it was startling even when it shouldn’t be.

“Mhm. That’s why I’m in charge of this operation and you’re not.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder affectionately.

“How do you know this stuff?” You asked in an accusatory tone.

“I have a colorful resume.” He shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it but you weren’t satisfied with such a vague answer.

“Ghost?” You asked in a softer, less hostile tone. “Have you ever stalked anyone before me?”

“What?” He asked, stooping you abruptly by throwing out his arm across your chest. He turned to face you directly, keeping a pointed finger centered on your sternum. “You know better than that.”

“Why would you ask me something like that Doe?” He asked, a hint of pain in his strained voice. “No, no I’ve never… I wouldn’t. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone in my entire life. I risked everything for you and I continue to do so every time I come in contact with you. Do you think I’d do that for anyone else?”

“Wait- hold on I didn’t mean anything by it Ghost I’m sorry.” You grabbed his wrist in a gentle grip to attempt to ground him. You didn’t think he’d be so offended by the question considering how he answered your previous inquiry. ‘Colorful resume’ seems like the kind of thing one might label stalking under.

“What did you mean then?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“I just… I guess I’m curious. I mean can you really blame me?” You asked carefully trying to navigate the conversation. “You know so much about illegal things.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean that I’ve done it before.” He grumbled. “I researched, I studied. Just like you would do to get information on anything else.”

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, I know what I’ve done is wrong. I’ve admitted that before.” He said it like he’d expected you to forget his transgressions the moment he apologized for them.

“I have no reason to lie about this. I’ve lied about… that’s beside the point okay? I’ve lied about stuff before but it was only to protect you as well as my identity and its not like I enjoyed it!” He raised his voice slightly, pulling you along with him as he restarted your trek along the lakeshore.

“You’re right, you’re right I’m sorry Ghost.” You said ashamedly, feeling bad for questioning him. You realized now that it would’ve sounded like an insult or a straightforward accusation to him.

“I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t really think-“ You paused, hearing him take a deep breath. “I guess I should say that I didn’t actually think you’ve stalked someone before.”

“I don’t like that word you know.” He said, the voice changer crackling from the quietness of his words. “Stalking makes it sound bad. What I did or do, it’s not stalking. Stalking conveys harm. I’m the last person on earth who would hurt you. I watch you.”

“I suppose you’re right about that.” You nodded, understanding his approach. Stalking definitely was what he was doing, but it also definitely held a really negative connotation which didn’t fit the situation entirely, maybe in the beginning but certainly not now.

“I know I’m right.” He grumbled, shaking his head at you in disappointment. You couldn’t help but chide yourself for ruining the more upbeat mood you’d started off the night with.

“I- okay you know what?” He sighed taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve never ‘stalked’ anyone but you. But there’s other stuff. I’m so good at ‘this stuff’,” He air quoted. “Because I’ve got a juvenile record for a few small time crimes. Theft, Break and Enter, Assault.”

“Ah-“ He stopped you by clapping his unoccupied hand over your mouth when he heard you breath in sharply. “Not sexual assault. I beat someone up because they saw me doin’ something I didn’t want them to see.”

“Oh, well… okay that makes me feel better.” You nodded, believing him because- well why not? He was willingly sharing this information with you. He felt the need to explain himself and he was finally sharing some real personal information, possibly identifying information. Although there was one thing that made you doubt the truth in his confession. “So, why the rape kink then? And that’s not me accusing you of lying, I’m just genuinely curious.”

He chuckled, surprised yet strangely proud that you were brave enough to question that. “Good girl. See? I’ve made you a brave little Doe haven’t I? I figured you’d straight up not believe me.”

“I have no reason to think you lied about it. I mean, I know what you’ve done to me.” You trailed off, suddenly rethinking your choices to trust his word. He had sexually assaulted you in many ways on many occasions even if you didn’t admit it to yourself. Even though you didn’t want to see it that way, that’s the truth. “You told me about it, showed me pictures, so I guess i don’t have a reason to doubt you.”

“That’s one way to look at it I suppose.” He shrugged, swinging his arm back and forth as he held your hand. “Well anyway, I watched a bunch of horror movies when I was a kid. I had unchecked access to the internet and my mom didn’t check my rentals from the Blockbuster.”

“Rented some horror movie with a cheerleader in it when I was like eight, had some really brutal scene in it but, it was the first time I saw a girl naked so I think I traumatized myself. So, its really not my fault.” He didn’t sound the least bit ashamed at the admission but you can’t really blame him can you? You enjoyed what he’d done, you thought it was hot when you realized why you’d been so ridiculously horny for so long.

“I mean…” You laughed a little bit, unable to come up with a good response to this new bit of information you’d managed to dig out of him.

“Mhm.” He chuckled, “Any questions? I know you have some.” You could just imagine the grin on his face from the tone of his voice. It was clear he was elated that you took his word for gospel.

“Why’d you steal stuff? Break into peoples houses?” You had a third question, but refrained from asking for fear of being a bit insensitive and possibly a tad ignorant. Not everyone steals because of necessity.

“I don’t know.” He said with a small laugh. “No reason really, I guess just because I could.”

“That’s s-“

“Stupid? Yeah it was.” He laughed, the sound mechanical but with a rich timbre that was warm, hearty.

“So the guy you assaulted. What’s that all about?” You asked, looking out over the lake to appreciate the beautiful night waters while you listened to him talk.

“Right.” He sighed, his hand snaking beneath his mask to scratch his neck anxiously. “Well here’s the thing: I made some mistakes. I know that. I knew it then too.”

He looked down, shoving his unoccupied and jittery hand in his pocket before kicking a pebble into the lake, disrupting the serenity of the black liquid. He took a deep breath and tilted his head up to the sky, letting it out through his nose in an effort to reach into his mind and come up with something that didn’t sound as bad as it actually was.

“Alright, I was a weird kid. Believe it or not.” He chuckled nervously, trying to use a bit of self deprecating humor to lighten up the subject. “I won’t go into too much detail, because I personally don’t like to think about it and I’m sure you won’t want to think about it.”

“The long and short of it is this: I was 14 and I hurt some… thing. I was mean.” He admitted, skillfully being as vague as he possibly could. “The guy, some kid I went to middle school with, it was his dad that saw me. So I realized I couldn’t talk myself out of it, you know since he was an adult.”

“Well we lived in a subdivision and there was a big dumpster toward the back entrance, that’s where I was.” He audibly swallowed, you could tell by the way his grip on your hand changed that his palms were sweating beneath his gloves.

“Someone had thrown out some furniture, sawed a janky old table up to make it fit in the dumpster. So I grabbed one of the wood pieces and swung it at him.”

“If I didn’t have a real good lawyer and a therapist behind me they would’ve charged me with attempted murder.” He said in a softer voice, apologetic as he spoke.

“I was just scared. He was yellin’ and he was a big dude and I wasn’t the most buff kid on the block.” He said with a slight laugh, giving you a half glance as if he were afraid to see your expression.

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Your words surprised him so much that he needed you to repeat them. So you did.

“Why?” He asked in confusion.

“Sounds like you just needed some help.” You replied with a sad smile.

In reality, Ghost was one hundred percent in the wrong, you knew that. Despite his age at the time, what he told you and didn’t tell you were both obvious crimes. He may have been 13 but he admitted he knew it was wrong even then.

He wasn’t apologetic because he felt bad about it. He was apologetic because he hated that you had to hear it.

The information wasn’t a groundbreaking story, nor was it an earth shattering revelation that you would’ve never expected to hear from him. Were you surprised he’d shared the information with you? Absolutely, but, surprised about the content? Not at all.

You had more questions.

What was the ‘something’? Why was he there? Why did he do it? What exactly did he do? It must’ve been something serious for him to reflexively clock a grown man with a wooden plank. None of those were questions you really wanted to ask though. You were curious, just not curious enough to willingly soil your gold plated version of him if you didn’t have to.

“Did you get charged for the other thing?” You asked, thinking that might be enough to quench the curiosity.

“No I didn’t.” He shook his head. “My lawyer handled it. I didn’t go to Juvy either like I should’ve.” He clicked his tongue, kicking at another rock. “Some how the lady got the judge to agree to me ‘serving’ out my time in a state school for little shitheads. I spent 8th through 10th grade with kids who were just as bad or worse than I was. Summers doing ‘volunteer’ work, which is just legal jargon for unpaid child labor.”

“I guess the state thought if I was too tired from digging ditches and doing grunt work, then I’d be less inclined to reoffend.” He shrugged, crouching down in front of you when he saw you were getting a bit tired of walking.

You climbed up, holding onto his shoulders and letting him hoist you up on his back. Those strong hands of his gripping the backs of your thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked, resting your chin atop his head.

“Well I certainly haven’t hit anyone with any furn- er well a piece of a table since then.” He laughed nervously, thankful you couldn’t see the horribly worried look he had on his face.

“So when did you do all the breaking and entering? Before or after?” You asked.

“Both.” He said simply.

You could tell the conversation was wearing on him in a way that seemed unpleasant. You didn’t want him to have a dampened mood just because you’d pried to hard. This was immense progress, he’d never shared this much about himself before and you didn’t want to ruin the chance of it happening again.

You allowed the flow of exchange to trickle into a complete stop. Letting him piggyback you in silence while you finally took an opportunity to scan your surroundings. When you did, you realized just how far you’d walked, you could see your cabin from across the lake, caddy-cornered to your current position but it wouldn’t be much longer until you were staring staring at it from in front of your target.

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“Alright, hop down baby Doe.” He patted your hip, motioning you to crouch down behind the bushes with him to survey the area and figure out a time frame in which you could safely trash the place.

“How long will we wait?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for balance.

“Thirty minutes should do it.” He said quietly, watching the front door and the movement in the soft yellow lighting filtering through the curtains in the cabin. “Most people, especially if they’re drunk, chain smoke or at the very least every fifteen to thirty minutes.”

“You smoke don’t you?” You asked him and he tilted his head toward you with a light laugh.

“Yeah I do. How’d you know?” He asked, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You taste like it sometimes.” You admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Aright Doe.” Ghost nodded, “what brand?”

“Huh?” You looked at him with confusion, how in the hell were you supposed to know that?

“C’mon. I know you’ve smoked before. They all taste different.” He teased, turning his attention back to the front door. “Menthol or regular?”

“Regular.”

“Good, that one was easy.” He laughed, nodding for you to go ahead with your next guess.

“Marlboro Red.” You said with a grin.

“Damn. Look at you, fuckin’ creep.” He laughed and reached over to squeeze your knee.

“I only know that cause of A- er well, never mind.” You cut yourself off, scowling at the fact you’d almost mentioned Anakin in front of him. Anakin had already unknowingly salted your mood earlier in the night and there was no reason to rehash that unsavory moment now.

“Oh, right.” Ghost nodded, shifting slightly to kneel. He pulled his phone from his pocket, turning the screen away from you before slipping it back in his pocket. “Let’s go babydoll.” He whispered, pulling you up by your arm.

“Need to piss before we toss this toilet paper all over the place?” He handed you a roll from his backpack with a childish giggle.

“No thank you.” Shaking your head he motioned for you to crouch down again, staying low and out of sight from the window. The closer you got to the cabin, the louder the music inside grew.

“Wanna look inside?” He asked as he tapped your shoulder, “See what a boy sleepover looks like?”

“Bet they’re all half naked, pillow fightin’ and giggling like school girls.” He snickered at the way you had to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

Raising up from your hiding spot you peeked in the window through a tiny sliver of space in between the curtains. Inside were the group of frat boys that had pestered you earlier in the day. Although they were not having a lusty pillow fight, they were doing something just as bad, maybe worse.

“Ah! Oh my god.” You squeaked and covered your eyes, turning away quickly.

“What? Did they see you?” Ghost gripped your upper arm and moved you out of the way to have a look for himself, his hand poised and at the ready to pull out his knife. Instead, he snorted and fell to his hands and knees. “Shit, sorry I should’ve looked first.”

“I’ve heard of strip poker, but I’ve never heard of strip pong.” You shivered, knowing you’d never be able to erase that tainted image from your brain. Four mostly nude guys playing beer pong was not on your list of deviant activities for the night.

“C’mon. This just proves they deserve it, huh?” He stood up and dusted himself off, poking his head around the corner to makes sure the coast was clear. “Oh, almost forgot.” He said, pulling your pink silk handkerchief from his back pocket.

“Let me put this on you, just in case.” Lifting it up and tying it around the lower half of your face.

“Do I look the part?” You teased, one hand on your hip and the other holding up the roll of TP like a football.

“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “Giving Thelma and Louise a run for their money.”

“Shut up.” You giggled and followed him to the back of the cabin where he gave you a designated spot to stand while he ran back to the front.

Soon enough you saw a roll sailing through the air toward you, followed by two more. After hitting the ground and unfurling a bit more you picked one up and tossed it back over the cabin, repeating the process until all six of the rolls he’d brought with him were strewn across the roof of the small cabin.

You heard a sharp ‘woo-hoo’ whistled out into the night, following the sound to the side yard where Ghost tossed a can of silly string the size of a hairspray can to you. You watched for a minute, just smiling at the way he was so happily running in circles around a tree, spraying in one continuous string until the trunk was sufficiently silly-strung.

It was like watching a kid go to a playground for the first time. He was treating this like a play date at the monkey bars, hopping around with a spray can in each hand to aim as high as he could.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, sounding a bit winded from his sudden burst of the human zoomies.

“Just… watching.” You grinned, grateful he couldn’t see just how big that smile you were hiding was.

He sprinted toward you, holding out both cans, spraying you with them as he chased you through the yard to the other side, where he hadn’t gotten any of the trees yet.

“Ghost!” You squealed when he caught up to you and pulled you to the ground with him. “Quit it! You’re gonna get us caught!”

“No. You’re the one screaming.” He laughed, hovering over you with his hands planted firmly on the ground at either side of your head.

“Not my fault.” You grumbled as he helped you back up, dusting your clothes off for you which was really just an excuse to grope your ass.

“Well it’s not my fault either.” He said, snaking his arms around your waist. “It’s just so cute when you run from me.”

He gave you a soft smack on the ass before sending you off to work on the remaining trees in the yard, leaning against the side of the cabin. It was his turn to watch. He liked seeing this side of you, a little adventurous, dipping your pinky toe into danger but still the same sweet girl he fell in love with.

“Next up.” He tossed the empty silly string cans into a pile in the front yard near the porch steps, replacing the one in your hand with a can of washable spray chalk.

“I call the truck.” He said, pointing toward a huge white Dodge Ram. He waved you off to take care of the two smaller vehicles.

Ghost took his time with red chalk paint to graffiti a tiny dick with a massive set of balls on the hood of the truck, it might be 12 year old boy humor but it still made you laugh. That’s all it should’ve done. Give you a giggle.

A graffiti dick shouldn’t really provoke intense thought should it?

It reminded you of how Anakin always said guys with obnoxious trucks were ‘compensating’ for a small dick. A weird coincidence, or maybe you were just still subconsciously thinking of Anakin and how he’d made you upset, so your brain was just selecting things that you associated with him and making them stick out to you.

You didn’t have too much time to think on it however because while you were busy painting the little grey Mazda with random doodles, Ghost had gotten the two of you in a bit of a pickle. He’d taken the time to consider smoke breaks, but frat boys are unpredictable off-paper. Mixing alcohol and stupidity often leads to unexpected activities and generally unwise ideas. In this case it seemed your group of targets had decided it was a really great idea to take a post midnight dip in the lake.

“Hey, what the hell is this?” One of them drunkenly laughed out loud after stepping out into the grass barefooted.

You heard Ghost’s boots crunch on the gravel before you felt his big arms scooping you and your bag up, packing you to the woods edge. He sat you down as gently as he could during his panicked scramble.

“Which one of you fuck-heads spray painted my truck?” A different guy who sounded familiar, possibly the one who’d spoken directly to you, yelled at his group of friends. He clumsily jogged over to his vehicle and climbed up on the driver side wheel to assess the damage. He laughed, thinking it was funny until he realized his friends were all denying responsibility.

“Wasn’t me man. We’ve all been inside with you for the last two hours dude.”

“Brandon! It was you wasn’t it?” The white truck guy hopped down from the tire and stumbled over toward his friend group.

“What? No!” Brandon yelled, shoving his friend away from him with a sloppy swing of his left arm.

“Chill out, it wasn’t anyone here.” The only one of the group who I sounded a bit more sober than the rest. “I know for a fact it wasn’t Brandon. He was chucking his guts in the bathroom for an hour and then he was playing pong.”

“Well who the hell was it then?”

Meanwhile Ghost was holding you still behind the bushes, trying to figure a way out of the situation he’d put the two of you in. He had just wanted some quality bonding time with you, outside your apartment and all had went swimmingly up till these drunken fools ruined it for him. He couldn’t just stand up and walk off, they were too close, especially white truck guy. There was not way he was willing to put you in harm’s way like that.

“Alright doe, just stay quiet.” He said, his voice low and dropping in and out of the filter.

“Ghost, lets just go." You whispered, tugging on his arm.

He grumbled, grabbing both you wrists and pinning you down. “Shut your goddamn mouth stupid bitch."

“Did you hear that?” One of the guys slurred, the voice coming closer along with a few separate pairs of footsteps.

Ghost held his hand over your mouth to keep you from nervously rambling. These frat boys posed no real threat for Ghost in a one on one, but there was a group of them and they were wasted, which meant they were a threat to you. 

“Listen, I’m sure whoever it was is long gone now.” The least drunk one shouted out to the rest of the group that had begun to walk your way. “We’ll clean up in the morning.”

“I’m not cleaning shit!” White truck guy yelled back to him. “I didn’t do this, I’m not cleaning it up.”

“Adam calm down, it was probably just some kids.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! They spray painted my fucking truck, Wyatt!” Adam shouted, stomping around the vehicles, crouching down to look beneath them for any clues.

“Maybe those girls will help, you know the ones from across the lake?” Adam suggested, thinking maybe the suggestion would calm his friend down, not realizing there was an angry Ghost bristling with irritation at the mere mention of you and your sister.

“Fuck ‘em.” Adam grumbled picking up a long stick to poke around in the brush surrounding the edge of the yard. “Those bitches are probably in on it.”

“C’mon man don’t be like that. They didn’t do this, you're just mad they didn’t wanna fuck.” Brandon laughed.

Ghost gripped you a bit tighter as he listened to them. He could call you a bitch, he meant it affectionately but these guys didn’t have that privilege. They don’t know you, they don’t have any right to call you anything, let alone feel entitled to the opportunity to lay their hands on you. Or your sister for that matter.

“So what?” Adam said angrily, “They were just actin’ coy cause that queer kid was there.”

“Just didn’t want the little fag to feel bad that they were dick magnets and he wasn’t.” Another one of the boys joined in, each word from their mouths making Ghost’s blood boil a bit hotter and make your stomach churn a little more.

“Bet I could go down there and get sweet cheeks in bed with me, make her clean this shit up in the morning before I drive her back over there.” Adam cackle laughed, throwing the driver side truck door open the keys already in the ignition judging by the way the interior lights turned on along with the beep of the indicator light.

“Sweet cheeks?” Ghost muttered, “They’re talkin’ bout you. See? This is why I don’t like you going places without me!”

“What if I wasn’t here, huh? What if these assholes rolled up and it was just you and your sister?” He whispered angrily.

“Luke would-”

“Luke would do his best, he would. But he doesn’t carry a weapon now does he?” He snapped back at you.

“No.” You answered quietly, muffled behind his hand. You definitely understood where he was coming from, but also not really. You went places without him all the time, of course he was always aware of your location and now he was aware of your audible conversations too. But, he wasn’t always there physically.

“That’s right. Now get ready to run.” He said quickly, shifting his weight to lift himself to his knees.

“What?” You said in a panicked voice, eyes wide with a sudden streak of fear.

“Just do what I say and it’ll be fine Doe.”

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“Remember that uh, that one chick from East Greene?” Brandon said, nudging his friend in the side.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah the redhead we did poppers with?” Adam laughed, jumping back down from his truck, shutting the truck door for the time being, the annoying dinging coming from inside the cab finally coming to a halt.

“Mhm, that’s not what I remember her for.” Brandon clapped him on the back, “What’d we call it? ‘Redhead n’ Spread’.”

“Hey, let’s not talk about that.” Wyatt cut in, trying to stop the conversation before it went too far. “Someone wasn’t there remember?” He nodded over to his right at a skinny, short guy in pastel golf shorts.

“Aw Zach ain’t gonna say nothin’.” Adam shushed him, “Not if we bring him with us tonight.” 

“Tonight? What’s going on tonight?” Wyatt asked him with a bit of confusion.

“Going tomcattin’.” Adam grinned, laying on his faint southern accent just a little bit thicker.

“Shit, alright.” Wyatt laughed, bouncing on the heels of his feet excitedly. “Let's get Zachary fully initiated.”

“No way, really?” Zach spoke up, hearing the tail end of the conversation. “I thought I still had another week left?”

“Not if you tomcat with us.” Adam said, cracking open a new beer. The group seemed to have completely forgotten the mess you and Ghost had made, obviously more interested in the plans they were making.

“Alright, well I’m not a good ol’ boy like you.” Zach snickered. “What the fuck is tomcattin’?”

“Well, youngin’.” Adam threw his arm around his friends shoulder and leaned in, poking him in the chest with his pinky finger before upturning the beer in the same hand to pour into Zach’s mouth while he explained. “ Tomcattin’ is when some eligible bachelors such as ourselves, go prowl for a bitch, or well, I suppose we outta call ‘em a kitty shouldn’t we?”

His buddies howled out in drunken laughter at his horribly offensive, demeaning joke. Now, they were talking about something Ghost couldn’t excuse or dismiss. It’s one thing to have a wandering eye. If he were to jab out the eyes of every man who looked your way, half the city would be eligible for a service dog. But this, this was different. This was a threat, not just the drunken ramblings of some idiot, this was clearly something this group, or at the very least, Adam, did more than once. 

“What’d ya say? Ready to corner a kitty?” Wyatt smacked Zach on the arm.

“Corner a girl?” Zach asked with a confused look. “You mean like, go out to the bar and see if I can find someone to take home?”

“Why the hell would we do that when there’s perfectly good pussy right over there?” Adam snorted, pointing across the lake toward your cabin.

“There’s two, plenty to go around.” Brandon chimed in, a sick smile on his lips. 

“Didn’t that one say she was married? I don't think they seemed very interested.” Zach said with an awkward laugh.

“Shit, they don’t have to be interested. As long as you’re interested that’s all that matters.” Adam laughed.

“C’mon don’t be a bitch Zach.” Wyatt elbowed him, trying to egg him on. “We’ve all done it. I did it for initiation, Brandon did it last year and we all hopped in on it. Might as well do the same this time right?”

“Yeah, don’t you wanna get some puss?” Adam laughed, rubbing his hands together. 

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“I’ve heard enough.” Ghost gritted his teeth, his fingers flexing in preparation. “Change of plans.” 

“You’re going to get in that truck and book it back to your cabin. Pack up and leave.” He grabbed your arm roughly, forcing you to look at him.

“What?” You whispered in surprise “I’m not doing that!”

“Oh, yes you will.” He said squishing your cheeks in his other hand. “Kisses.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss the cheek of his mask, pulling your arm out of his grasp. He hesitated, keeping those big, dark eyes trained on yours. 

“I want you to go.” He said in a gentler tone. “Please?”

“No.” You shook your head and crossed your arms in defiance. “I will not be stealing a truck and I will not be leaving.”

He growled, putting his head down and then looking back over to the group of men. With both of your hands in his he put the forehead of his mask against yours. He dropped your hands, pulling you against his chest tightly, cradling your head in the crook of his neck.

“Swear to me you won’t look.” He pleaded, sounding desperate.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked nervously.

“Swear to me.” He demanded, squeezing you tighter to put stress on his warning. “I’m just gonna scare them, but you have to promise me doe.”

“I promise.”

“Head down, don’t move.” He said, petting your hair and scratching your scalp with his gloved fingers. “This is for you. Just in case, gun’s in the bag.” He opened up his backpack to show you the gun and bullets and then shoved the rose handled butterfly knife into your hand, enclosing your fingers around it.

“Wait, don’t you need this?” You asked with a grimace, not wanting to think about the possibility that either of you would need to use it.

“I have two more.” He said as if it were completely normal to carry around three knives at any given time. You watched as he fished around for a ziploc bag full of zip ties, taking out a handful and shoving them in his pocket.

“Don't you dare do anything stupid, you hear me?” He grabbed your face with both his hands and pressed his forehead to yours once more.

“Yes sir.” You gave him a nervous smile.

“Now is not the time to be a smartass.” He grumbled, pushing you down gently to make sure you wouldn’t see whatever it was he planned on doing.

Ghost crept around the side of the big white truck, flipping out one of his knives from his back pocket in a showy spin. He jabbed the back left tire of the truck, a loud hissing pop coming from the pierced rubber. It was loud enough to catch the groups attention, their heads turning toward the noise. Ghost stood still, twirling his second favorite knife around the back of his hand by hooking it with his thumb.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Adam yelled, throwing his beer can at Ghost. It fell about three feet in front of him, a sloppy throw executed by a sloppy drunk. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

“I’m your vet, heard you needed to be neutered.” Ghost said, his filtered voice echoing through the trees. He walked toward them slowly, flicking his wrist to hold the knife in a back handed grip, running the tip of the blade down the side of the truck as he walked past. The sharp steel on the bright white paint scraped it off with a loud, grating, screeching noise.

“Alright, who the hell sent you here?” Adam stormed over to him and shoved his shoulder. “Those little shits from Delta Chi?”

“Mm, no.” Ghost grabbed his wrist and dug his thumb into the tender spot just below the heel of Adam’s palm. 

“Did you do all this?” Adam asked angrily, trying to twist his arm out of Ghost’s firmly closed fist. “You’re gonna clean this up or I’ll call the owners.”

“I think this mess is the least of your worries, Adam.” Ghost growled, shoving him backward and letting him fall to the ground, landing on his ass.

“Yeah?” Adam stood back up, stumbling on his feet and landing against the side of his truck for support. “You went to the fuckin’ Party City and think you’re some kind of big tough guy?”

“No,” Ghost grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the truck door, using his forearm to press against Adam’s windpipe. “I actually went to the Spirit Halloween.”

“Like you could take on all of us? With that little thing?” Adam laughed loudly, nodding toward Ghost’s knife with the small range of motion he had in the position he was stuck in.

“All of you?” Ghost chuckled, throwing Adam to the ground and following him so he could grab him by the hair, lifting his head to show him that all his ‘friends’ had left him to fend for himself.

“So much for frat loyalty.” Ghost laughed, kneeling on Adam’s back to keep him pinned down. He wrenched the man’s hand out from underneath him, splaying his fingers out on the ground in front of his face. “Listen, I know what you were planning to do. I heard you.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Adam yelled, putting up quite the fight against Ghost, enough that he needed to fully straddle him to hold him still. 

“Tomcatting, RedHead n’ Spread…” Ghost repeated, “You make me sick.”

“Oh whatever.” Adam spat, sounding strained as he kicked and squirmed. “Brandon!” He shouted, breathing in to call out again.

“You ever played Nerve?” Ghost asked, twirling his knife, returning it to a backhand grasp to stab into the dirt between Adam’s fingers. 

“Shit- Brandon! W-Wyatt! Get your ass back over here!” He squealed while Ghost threaded the knife back and forth through his fingers, stabbing it rapidly into the dirt.

“You know, one of those ‘kitties’ you were thinking about hurting… she’s mine.” Ghost growled, purposely nicking Adam’s thumb, making him yelp.

“I’m sorry! Jesus- let me go man. I- I was just tryin’ to mess with the recruit!” Adam panted, trying to turn over beneath Ghost.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Ghost grunted, slicing the side of Adam’s hand.

“Fuck!” Adam screamed, thrashing around, trying to bite at the leather glove closest to his face. “Brandon! This guy’s tryna kill me!”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be.” Ghost plunged the knife into the meaty part of Adam’s hand between his thumb and forefinger. He drove it all the way into the dirt below, trapping it there while Adam’s hand shook from the pain.

“Sorry, don’t have a paperweight buddy.” Ghost sighed, his tone dripping in apathy. 

Ghost fished around in his pants shorts pockets, finding his wallet and cellphone. He lifted up Adam’s head by his hair to use the face ID on his phone, once it was unlocked he scrolled through it, ignoring the whiny protests from the guy trapped beneath him. With several contacts and a few screenshots of social media accounts airdropped to his own phone he chucked Adam’s somewhere out into the yard. He then picked though his wallet, taking out his credit cards with his second knife, he stacked them together and chopped them up like he was cutting through a bar of soap.

“What the hell is your problem?” Adam cried, snot dripping from his nose. 

“You are my problem.” Ghost chuckled, taking the cash from the wallet and tucking it away in his pocket. Ghost grabbed Adam’s pinned hand, jerking it backward quickly to make the removal of the blade just a tad more painful. 

“God, would you shut up? It’s not that bad.” Ghost grumbled, zip tying his hands together behind his back, making him stand so he could lead him into the cabin. “Let’s go say hi to your friends.”

 Part Sixteen

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero r @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries s @syralix @doblasftcisco @demieyesore

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Father Figure (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer discusses daddy issues. His boss, who is also his girlfriend’s father, has a question. Request: Reader is hotch's daughter and after hotch learns that they are dating their interactions are kind of weird in a funny way Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Mild awkwardness Word Count: 900

MASTERLIST

The jet ride to a crime scene is rarely a pleasant experience. Each team member holds their folders filled with horrors, and they display an abject apathy. After all, they are quite familiar with the worst side of humanity. Some days, though, when the worst crimes are still hypothetical and the victims are alive, the team can maintain some semblance of their usual personality.

Spencer is usually the first one to share something interesting about the theoretical or identified unsub. This is because he has a broad knowledge on, well, most things, and he also manages to read through the stack of papers much quicker and with a greater detail than the others.

This day, however, Spencer is silent. And everyone knows why.

Because just one measly week ago, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner found out that Spencer Reid was dating his daughter.

Beyond the initial, incredibly uncomfortable conversation, Hotch had barely spoken a word about it. A fool might think that meant he has no qualms with it, but Spencer knows him better than that.

No, it is infinitely more likely that Hotch is stewing in his rage about his daughter’s Freudian taste in men. Hotch is just too smart to strike without the possibility of maximal damage.

So, Spencer knows to keep his guard up.

But he never could keep a thought to himself, could he?

Derek lets out a deep breath with a soft whistle before he tosses his folder onto the desk beside him. As the others peek up at him, he shakes his head with an enthused but horrified expression.

“Talk about ‘daddy issues,’” Derek mutters.

The others smirk in response, but they say nothing else.

Until, inevitably, Spencer does.

“The correct term would be ‘father complex,’” he says with an attempt to sound disinterested in one of his favorite philosophers, “It was a shared theory between Freud and Jung, and it’s actually very interesting.”

No one says a word. Spencer does not notice the warnings flashing in their eyes because he is too afraid to accidentally look at Hotch.

They all know what’s coming.

He continues, anyway.

“While Freud was more interested in how men might become distrusting or intimidated by older male authorities, Jung extended his analysis to women with emotionally or physically absent fathers.”

Despite the roaring engines and the full cabin, the jet is silent. If Spencer had looked up then, he would have seen how everyone immediately glances over at Hotch.

Hotch, however, maintains his stoic stare. He is looking directly at Spencer, who is still staring at the document in the folder he has already read several times over.

“There’s a more contemporary term for the phenomenon that would probably be more fitting,” Spencer announces.

“Really?” Emily asks. The rhetorical question is dripping with sarcasm in a final attempt to stop him. 

Spencer is so lost in thought at this point that he does not even notice. Instead, he marches on to his downfall.

“It’s called ‘Father hunger,’” he explains coolly, “and it explains the over-trust in authority figures and the search for an older man that reminds them of the father they never had.”

“Are you talking about yourself or my daughter?”

Every muscle in Spencer’s body seizes at the question. Quickly, he raises his head to find himself trapped in the paralyzing, disapproving stare of Aaron Hotchner.

“What?” he squeaks.

The man does not answer.

“N-No! No, I was just explaining the origins of the term,” he insists.

He tries—but fails—not to think about you. Just one remark, one casual reminder of your existence makes his skin ripple with goosebumps. Overcome with guilt—but never regret—his mind tugs forward every memory shared between the two of you.

The smell of your perfume, the softness of your lips, the comfort he finds in your arms.

His life is flashing before his eyes and every part of it looks like you.

He raises his hands in surrender before he sputters, “I would never—!”

“Reid,” your father commands.

Your boyfriend flinches.

“It’s a joke,” Hotch says just before he smiles.

Immediately, Spencer is surrounded by familiar smiles. He feels the visceral pain of a joke made at his expense while at the same time, he is cloaked with relief.

“Funny joke,” he says under his breath.

Hotch detects the sarcasm but decides to let it go.

He had won the exchange, after all.

Spencer also tries to let it go. Because if this was the height of Hotch’s rage over the ultimate violation of his home life, he’d basically gotten away with murder.

Still, he can’t shake the burning red blush. That and the trembling from the adrenaline felt almost permanent.

Just as the thought occurs to him, Derek takes a seat beside him.

He leans closer even as Spencer leans away.

Then, in the quietest whisper, he asks, “Which one of you does she call daddy?”

Yes, Spencer realizes. The blush is going to be permanent.

“Stop talking,” he orders with a startlingly amount of finality.

From across the table, Emily provides Derek with the audience he wanted. Her giggles alone assuage his desire to make Spencer’s day just a little bit more chaotic.

The two relent. Spencer is alone with his thoughts again, and he wonders whether he will ever feel at home in his new position.

But then he thinks of you, and he knows that he is exactly where he is meant to be.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

If you're looking for more to read, check out my full-length smut story "My Boss's Daughter," where Reader is Hotch's daughter that is in love with Spencer!

Thanks for reading!

[survivalove]

ATLA fandom and removing Katara’s agency and POV

Recently, I came across the following thread where OP proceeded to uplift the following ships to diminish Kataang, on the supposed basis of Katara’s agency and pov (or lack thereof).

I decided to keep all their points and pictures to show a holistic analysis of the show, which they themselves fail to do.

Firstly, on the topic of loss, Kataang has multiple moments where they connect over their losses.

At first, Katara tries to tell Aang that his people may be lost by opening up about her mother, but he is obviously in denial. It is only when he sees Gyatso’s body (like Katara did when her mom passed) that he accepts the loss of his people and her comfort.

I also want to note that this is a recurring pattern of Aang struggling to accept Katara’s comfort at first, despite these shippers’ claims that he easily accepts her “coddling/mothering”.

Kataang as seen in Katara’s pov:

This is easily the most inaccurate part of the thread and shows how shippers fail to acknowledge Katara as a character unless she is with their preferred love interest.

Kataang’s relationship is framed in Katara’s point of view multiple times, especially in these episodes.

Next, Katara’s boundaries:

Once again, they exclude the frames where Katara exercises her agency — pushing him away and telling him off, removing her pov from the scene all on their own. Furthermore on the issue of being violated, what is her point of view when she’s tied to a tree, or when her grandmother is being roughed up and tossed around?

This is part of a greater issue where shippers genuinely believe the misogyny in the writing room is exclusive to a single ship and would somehow be resolved if the female character ended up with… another man.

On Katara’s grief,

Honestly, this has to be the second most dishonest and laughable part of the thread (don’t worry we’ll strike gold soon), so I’m not even going to validate it with more than these pics:

Lastly, the ship in question:

I just find the lightning pic so funny in this context like what?? Like I said earlier, Kataang is shown from Katara’s pov multiple times, but here’s more pics because when your ship has the material!

Aang has seen Katara at her worst multiple times, either stepping in, comforting her or giving her advice (just like Katara has done for him many times, unprompted I might add) because he knows her and has seen her very hostile reactions towards Jet and Hama when they tried to use her as a tool for their revenge. Mind you, this same advice her literal brother and eventually Zuko himself agree with.

Also I always found it pretty weird how Zuko (ahem the writers) set this up so that she can forgive him right after he failed to understand why she was the last one to do so in the beginning of the episode, but anyway…

Lastly, both Aang and Katara have opened to each other in incredibly significant ways. Aang opens up to Katara about the monks and why he disappeared. She is the only person to know this side of him. Meanwhile, Katara tells him about her mother and opens up her family to him, and even in the most platonic interpretations, how is that not the most significant way to open up to someone?

[cumulo-stratus]

Communication Issues

(GIF NOT MINE)

Plantonic!BAU team x french!reader

Description: reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.

CW: possible swearing, I can't think of anything else

A/N: I'm thinking of making a series about this, like just funny scenarios related to the reader being French, if y'all have any ideas let me know! Also reader is gonna be loosely based off me when im rly tired cus i get kinda giggly/floppy/goofy. ( also sry it's short)

French, translation

3rd person POV:

after a hard, and long case the team was very ready to go home. They had found a 9 yr old girl and rescued her from a man holding her in his basement to torture her. And even though it took the profilers almost 3 full days with almost no sleep to find her. To say they were tired was understatement. It was almost 2 am when they trudged onto the plane, all tired physically and emotionally. Y/N was the last on the plane and decided to take the couch to get some sleep. Just as he was sitting down Reid plopped down next to him. (Y/N and Reid liked to sit next to each other so they could read together)

“Désolé reid, je veux lire avec toi, mais je suis trop fatigué pour ça” (sorry reid, i wanna read with you but im too tired for that) you said to him, slightly slurring your words. “Huh?” Spencer looked up at you with a small crease between his eyebrows. The switch in language caught the rest the rest of the team off guard as well (evidently by the looks on their faces) you peered at them just as perplexed and asked “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Whats wrong?).

“Dont worry guys I’ll talk to him” said spencer with a little giggle at his new friends antics. Morgan gave spencer a little knowing look and eyebrow wiggle at his conversation with Y/N, despite having no idea what they were saying. “Mon biche, tu parle français maintenant, pas anglais.” (Darling, you’re speaking french right now, not english) says spencers with a small smile. a look of understanding dawned your features and you said “je suis?! Oh c'est pas grave, Oh, tu n'as besoin que de me comprendre de toute façon.” (I am?! Thats okay, you’re the only one who needs to understand me anyways) you say with a wink ad a giggle. Spencers cheeks went red and emily gave him a questioning look. “Y/N, tu fais quoi?” (y/n, what are you doing?). you just gave him a mischievous look before putting your head on his shoulder and snuggling into him to fall asleep. The rest of the team got bored of making fun of the pair and began their own conversations or trying to sleep. But after a minute or two the team heard and hushed but strict “shhhhh!” coming from their resident genius. “You guys are so loud! hes asleep!” said spencer’s while he gestured vicariously to the sleeping figure drooped over his left side. “hush up pretty boy, your little boyfriend over theres out cold dont worry about it.” said derek with a teasing smile. spencers cheeks turned even more red than before if hat was even possible and started stuttering about the sleep man not being his boyfriend. “okay, okay, hes not your boyfriend,” said derek with his hands up in surrender after spencer kept spluttering on about y/n not being his boyfriend.

(small time skip)

As the plane landed people began packing up their things and getting ready to get off the plane. But y/n and Spencer had moved and when the team looked over they found the two agents passed out on top of each other and snoring lightly.

THE END

[gyupinkys]

CRY SOME MORE- pout some more pt.2

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL X READER

WC: 2K 

WARNINGS: GUN AND KNIFE PLAY, threesome, Cuckolding, exhobitionism, unprotected and protected sex, bondage, begging, possessiveness, edging, face fucking, impact play, very rough sex, this may make you go insane... it made me insane

Being married to Cheol isn’t as bad as you thought. Your day to day consists of sleeping in, forcing Mingyu to cook for you, and bothering Cheol into an inch of his life. You can’t complain. Cheol really tries to make you as happy as possible, often putting his pride aside to appease you, which is exactly what he’s doing now.

“I want to go with you.” you groan, upset that he has the audacity to leave you home and go to paris with Jeonghan. This seems like a honeymoon, not a business trip. 

“Y/N, If you keep this up I’ll start to think you’re getting attached.” 

You scoff. You absolutely are.  “In your dreams, lover boy.”

You begin to plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, knowing he’ll fold.

“Fine, go pack your stuff.” he sighs.

You smile, giving him a kiss on the cheek and running up the stairs. Missing the teasing look Jeonghan gives Cheol. 

“You’re so pathetic.” Jeonghan chuckles.

“You’re no better, you literally kill people if they look at your girl the wrong way.” Cheol says with an eye roll, walking upstairs to help you pack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t realize Joshua was coming until you walked onto the jet and saw him passed out on the couch. You wouldn’t say you didn’t like him, he’s extremely sweet to you. The issue is you never got over your little crush on him and If Cheol finds out he’ll start whining and pouting and you don’t have time for that. You don’t want to be with Joshua, you love being with Cheol, but damn; that gentleman act gets you everytime. You quickly walk past him and head to the small bedroom at the back of the plane to get some peace of mind, which was rudely interrupted by Cheol throwing himself on top of you. You run your fingers through his hair making him nestle his head into your chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me Joshua was coming?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“Oh.” 

“Why? Y/N, I swear if you try something.”

“I would never.”

“Y/N, I mean it when I say no funny business. The guys we’re meeting are not to be messed with.”

“Are you scared?”

“Me? No.”

He’s definitely scared. “I’ll behave. Just because I don’t want you to die.”

“Oh, you suddenly care about me.”

“Ok, I take it back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t like the vibes this club is emitting. You clutch onto Cheol’s hand harder as he weaves through the crowd with Jeonghan and Joshua. You’re not sure why he brought you in the first place. The VIP sections upstairs are much quieter yet even more scary. The four of you enter a private room and see four men sitting on a couch, their conversation cutting short when you walk in. 

You sit between Joshua and Cheol. As usual Jeonghan does the talking, easily turning the deal in SVT’s favor. 

“Before we do that, whose this dime?” the man you’ve learned as Minho speaks. 

Cheol goes to answer but you quickly cut him off. You don’t need him to speak for you. 

“Hi, Minho. I’m Y/N” you say confidently. 

“What a beautiful name.” The man next to him, Taemin says. 

“Thank you” you smile, feeling Cheol tense next to you, presumably jealous. He needs to cut this shit out. 

“How do you know these guys?” Minho asks.

“I’m Joshua’s girlfriend.” you say with a smile making Joshua choke on air.

“Well, shit.” Jeonghan says under his breath while Cheol stays quiet.

“Well, Joshua. You got yourself a keeper.” Key winks.

“Thanks, man” Joshua grits out.

You tune out the rest of the conversation, thinking about how good Cheol’s going to fuck you tonight to “show you your his”. Typical, yet you love it everytime. Except, when you get back to the hotel he just sits in the armchair across from the bed. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, rolls up his sleeves and loosens his tie. You sit across from him on the bed waiting for him to speak, but he never does, just typing away on his phone.

“Cheol?”

He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad? Matter of fact, why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?”

Well this backfired.

A knock of the door cuts off your thoughts, Cheol getting up and letting Joshua in. What is going on?

“Well, here’s your boyfriend.” Cheol says in a monotone voice, looking at his phone again.

You have no words. What are you even supposed to say? 

Joshua walks up to you and gently grabs your chin. “My beautiful girlfriend.” he says with a sweet smile. Woah. 

“You think I don’t know about your little crush on me? If you wanted me so bad you should’ve said something, I could’ve been fucking you this whole time.” He says crawling over you, making your back hit the bed. 

You must be dreaming. What the fuck is happening? Why isn’t Cheol saying anything?

“Cheolie?” you say nervously. 

“What? It’s only right that your boyfriend fucks you to sleep, right?”

He’s being such an ass, but two can play this stupid game. 

“Kiss me, Shua.” 

He obeys, connecting your lips in a heated yet somehow sweet kiss. His lips are so soft, yet you can’t help but compare them to Cheol’s. His are plumper and rounder than Joshua’s, more familiar. “STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM” you internally yell. You thread your fingers through Joshua’s hair and pull, making him groan. He roughly pull’s back and grips your hair twice as hard. 

“Don’t even try to pretend you’re in charge here.” he spits, letting your head fall back. 

Well damn, where did the gentleman go? 

“Coups, let me borrow your tie?” 

He grabs the tie from his hands and ties your wrist together.

“I’m not gonna be as nice to you as your sweet Cheolie. I love to see pretty girls cry.”

He pulls a pocket knife out of his pocket and cuts through your dress. You wish you could see Cheol’s face, but Joshua’s broad shoulders cover your view. 

“What made you say you were mine?” Joshua asks as he begins to grope your chest through your flimsy lace bra. You even wore red to entice Cheol yet-  stop thinking about him. 

“I want to be yours.”

“Oh?” he drags his hands down your body, pulling your panties off and throwing them straight into Cheol’s lap. 

“Y/N, tell me;  Who is this pussy so wet for? Me or him?”

“Him.” you smile mischeviously.

“Always a brat.” Joshua says, grabbing your arms and pulling you to the floor.

“I’m sure you know what to do.”

Your hands fly to his belt only to earn a sharp slap to your face. He harshly grips your chin, “I didn’t give you permission to do it.”

Is everyone in this group annoying? 

“Can I please suck your dick?” 

“That’s more like it. Go ahead.” 

You unzip his slacks and pull him out. He’s hard and leaking a bead of precum that you promptly lick and put the tip in your mouth. Joshua angled you so Cheol could see you. When you try to turn your head to look at him Joshua grabs your head and thrusts all the way down your throat making you gag. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” Cheol say’s with a smirk in his voice. You try to turn your head again just for Joshua to begin thrusting harshly, punishing you for trying to look at Cheol. “Don’t make me ask again.” Cheol says knowing every time you try to turn your head the thrust will only get harder.

“If you look at him I’ll hurt you.” Joshua says in a deceivingly sweet voice. 

You groan around his length, what are you supposed to do? You feel tears of frustration brim at your eyes, the gagging only making the tears begin to flow. 

“Y/N, you can’t even listen to me? I’m starting to think you really want to be Joshua’s.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking her off your hands, I’m sure that pussy is tighter than her throat.”

He pulls you off his cock and throws you on the bed, positioning you to face Cheol. He seems to be suffering as much as you. His hands are harshly gripping the arms of the chair and he’s breathing heavily. You can almost see the jealousy and possessiveness coursing through him. 

“Let's give him a show.” Joshua whispers in your ear, rolling on a condom and rubbing his tip through your folds. You've been so pent up this little stimulation is making you feel like you could cum on the spot. When he begins to fill you up you groan, feeling a sense of relief. You don’t take your eyes off Cheol as Joshua begins harshly thrusting into you making your legs weak. Cheol pulls himself out of his pants and begins to stroke himself. Your mouth begins to water at the thought of sucking him off. You'd be so good for him if he gave you even an ounce of attention.

“This pussy isnt even mine yet I feel possessive over it. I don’t know how you're doing this, bro.”

Joshua picks up his pace making your legs give out. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest. You feel your orgasm approaching, beginning to squirm.

“That’s enough.” Cheol says, standing up. 

“No, Please I’m so close.” you cry out.

“I said that’s enough.” he responds, pressing the barrel of his gun to Joshua’s head. “Get the fuck off my girl.”

“Partypooper.” Joshua complains, but pulls out. “Go sit in the chair. I want you to watch closely. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”

He looks at you laying on your back on the bed and drags his gun around your body. 

“Why do you think you can fuck my friends? You know, the last girl who did that ended up in a shallow grave. I don’t like sharing. So what makes you so special?”

He pushes the gun into your mouth and presses on your tongue, making it so you can’t answer. “I asked you a question.” he says, pushing harder, making you panic. 

“No answer? Maybe I should kill you too.” He presses the gun further down your throat and pulls the trigger. Holy fuck. You let go of a breath and feel your pussy drip. That was so hot. 

“You should’ve seen your face.” He sadistically laughs.  “On all fours.” 

You scramble into position, looking back at him. He doesn't give you warning before pushing into you. He stretches you more than Joshua, and has the advantage of already knowing your body. He begins brutally pounding you, forcefully arching your back so you can take him deeper. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such a slutty wife. You’d fuck anyone, huh?”

“No Cheol. I only want you.”

“That’s clearly not true.” he scoffs. 

“Can I cum, Please?”

“You’re real bold.” 

“Please Cheol. I swear I’ll be good.”

“I’ve heard that so many times, Baby. I don’t believe you.”

“No please” you begin crying. “Please daddy. I just need to cum and I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Daddy? You must really want to cum.”

“Yes, please, please, please.”

He pulls out and cums on your back.  “Cheol” you whine as you get up and begin to pathetically cry. Talk about deja vu…

He pulls you in for a kiss and whispers against your lips. “I told you, next time you want to be a brat, to remember this feeling. Clearly I need to reinforce this lesson ” 

He looks up at Joshua. “You can see yourself out.”

Joshua just smiles and gets up. As he passes your sobbing figure he throws your panties onto your chest. 

“I meant it when I said I like to see pretty girls cry.” 

You look down at your panties to see his cum covering them and dripping off onto your chest.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 13 all chapters

-Later that evening he picks you up near your hostel in a gorgeous wooden water taxi. You’d gotten more than a few odd looks from the scruffy backpackers hanging out in the courtyard, as you’d exited in your chic new dress and heels. You wonder if you look utterly ridiculous, until you see the way John looks at you. There is a heat in his dark eyes that could burn the city down, and you flush all over, knowing the evening hasn’t even begun and you’ve already soaked through your new silk panties.

He waves away the driver, lifting you down by your waist into the boat. It surprises you, and you cling to him, though you never feel for a second that he might drop you. The strength in his arms is unyielding as an oak.

He’s changed into a black suit for the evening, and he’s so fucking handsome you could die. When you’re settled in the bench seat in the back of the boat he lifts his arm for you in invitation, and you nestle in. The night air is a little chilly once the boat gets going, but you are pressed to the long lean length of John’s side, and he keeps you warm. He drives you a little crazy, drawing slow circles with his fingertips on your bare arm.

You go to dinner, and it’s everything you’d hoped and feared. The light is low, the food is delectable, the wine is good, and Mr. Wick is the very picture of dark temptation in the candlelight. He is charming, and sweet, and he touches your fingertips lightly with his from across the table. You always knew he had a wry sense of humor, but loosened up with an aperitivo, he is downright funny, and you find yourself laughing at his comments with purest joy.

You brought that leather-bound notebook from Florence in your new little handbag. When you present it to John he cradles it in his big hands like you have gifted him with something made of pure gold, his dark eyes shining like high-polished mahogany. He looks at you with a tenderness that makes your knees weak, and you are glad you are already sitting down.  

“I know it’s not much…” You feel a little sheepish suddenly, thinking about what he spent on you earlier that day.

“I love it,” he assures you adamantly, and tucks it into his inside pocket, where it will rest over his heart. “Thank you.” He reaches for your hands across the table again, and as if you weren’t gone enough already, you feel yourself steadily, inexorably, falling in love with this man.

Afterwards you go for a walk. He smiles down at you, amused when you stumble on a raised cobblestone, steadying you with an arm around your waist.

“I think you are a bit drunk, Miss y/n,” he teases you.  

You like wine, but you don’t drink it often. You’d had half a bottle with dinner, plus a negroni aperitivo, and a digestivo of grappa after dessert… Yes. Yes you are, and maybe it will hurt in the morning, but right now it feels wonderful.  

“And whose fault is that?” you fire back with an insouciant smile, winning real laughter. The rare sound warms you to the bottom of your soul.

“Guilty.” He’d ordered the drinks, after all.

There is a mischievous sparkle in his jet-black eyes, and you think maybe he’s a bit drunk too. Or maybe it’s just this fucking country, that’s so goddamn romantic. You’re not sure why that annoys you in that moment.

You pause on a bridge, and he reaches up to lightly touch your hair, sweeping it behind your ear, tracing the curve of your neck. It’s almost like he’s petting you, and you cannot help but close your eyes.

Is this man finally going to kiss you?

A small, feral sound escapes you with the thought, and you are too tipsy to be embarrassed about it. It makes him smile knowingly, and now you think he might actually have an inkling of what he’s been doing to you.

You do not know it, but over your shoulder, John sees a suspicious shadow move in an enclave in the distance. He does not like the look of it at all.

“I should probably get you back to your hostel.”

You stick your lips out in a pout, mildly infuriated and currently lacking any healthy inhibitions.

“Are you really going to make me tell you how much I want you, Mr. Wick?” What an effective truth serum a good chianti makes. Your hands find his tie, pulling him closer towards you. He lets you, of course, until your bodies are nearly pressed in a line.

It’s almost enough, but not quite. Never quite, it seems.

He lowers his forehead to rest on the top of your head, and you sense that he is coiled tight as a spring, practically vibrating with the effort of holding himself back. You can feel it in his hands on your sides, as though he can’t decide if he should pull you closer, or push you away.

 “Do you?” he asks, his voice gone low.

“As if you don’t already know,” you grouse petulantly. There is a part of you deep down that knows, as you look up at him, that you are pulling the tail of a tiger. You just don’t possess the self-control at the moment to stop.

He narrows his eyes at you. “It’s hard to read you,” he confesses in a rare moment of vulnerability, which you find utterly absurd.

“Hard to read me? Mr. Tall Dark and Broody? Mr. Hot and Cold? Mr. I’ll Take You Out On My Bike For The Ride of Your Life on Your Birthday Then Barely Speak To You?”

Again, he laughs, though this time there is an edge to it. He frames your face in his big hands, and you know he could crush you if he wanted, but you still cannot suppress a sigh. You crave the strength in those hands on you with every fibre of your being.

You’d let him pull you apart, so long as he promises to put you back together again.

“Sweet girl…my love is a curse. I don't want to hurt you—but I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”

It almost sounds like a warning.

You pause at that, listening to your heartbeat pounding in your ears. There is a hint of darkness in that sentiment that would have scared you a little, had you been in your right mind. As it is…you are too far gone, and you are desperate to have it all out at last.

“Are you talking about your wife?” you dare ask, your voice hushed as though she could overhear you. Maybe she can. Maybe her spectre would have the mercy to let this man who still walks among the living go. “John…she got sick, and that is not your fault. You can't blame yourself for that.” 

He just shakes his head slowly against you, his long fingers sliding into your hair, tightening at the base of your skull.

“You don't understand.” 

He has you firmly in his grasp, and it sends the most delicious thrill down your spine, right to your loins. You can’t help but squirm against him, closing that distance at last. The line of heat between your bodies pressed is maddening, and you marvel that you can think at all.

“I'm trying to.” 

“I know.” There’s something in his tone that cracks your heart in two, and you find you are afraid. You’re afraid that he still might backpedal on you after all, after all this, and you’re not sure your heart will survive it.

“Please don’t let me go?”

He tilts your head back, in full control of you. You do not fight him, too entranced by his mouth hovering over yours.  

“Remember that you asked.”

You don’t get the chance to formulate a response, because at last his mouth presses to yours, and you forget everything but the feeling of his soft lips and the tantalizing intrusion of his tongue. You would have surged to meet him, but he holds you immobile in his strong hands, taking you just the way he wants you. Yet you are a greedy thing, and your fingers seek the flat planes of his chest, running over the muscled contours beneath his jacket, up the column of his neck to grab fistfuls of his soft hair, the way you’ve craved practically since the first time you laid eyes on him.  

You fancy you almost hear it snap, when at last you manage to break this man’s iron-clad self-control.

Or perhaps it is you, your fragile body, that makes an audible pop when he grabs you up in those strong arms, his fingers digging into your waist as he practically lifts you from the ground in the desperation his ardor. You meet the fury of his kiss with a matching passion, with lips and teeth and tongue, so caught up in the whirlwind that you entirely forget where you are, that you’re in public, that you’re probably not alone. The focus of your world narrows to the single pinpoint that is him, and maybe it’s been that way for you for a while now.

It’s over all too soon, when he tears himself away, breathing heavily in the bend of your neck. You make a small sound of protest, needy for more of his delectable mouth, and he nips your shoulder, maybe hard enough to bruise. You jump with surprise, but you don’t exactly mind the feeling of his teeth in your skin, as though you are something sweet he wishes to devour.

In that moment you reckon you would let him eat you whole, and lick the bones clean.

You are aware of it this time, when he lifts his head to look beyond you, his hawkish gaze sweeping the shadows beyond. It seems like he’s worried about something. But you are wrapped up in his arms, tucked perfectly against his larger body like you are puzzle pieces finally found—you feel as though nothing could possibly touch you.  

“I should get you back,” he says, his voice pure gravel.

“I don’t want—”

“Don't fight me, y/n.”

He uses a tone of voice you've never heard from him before. It is hard as granite, utterly forbidding, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. Feeling this change in you, he sighs and kisses your forehead in apology. “Come on.”

Slightly comforted, you let him lead you with your hand in his, though you still feel more than a little unbalanced, and not because of the height of your heels on the uneven paving stones, or the tremor in your limbs from that hurricane of a kiss.   

This man…

You are not sure what unsettles you more. The whiplash of his mood, or the fact that you’re not sure you wouldn’t follow him to the depths of Hell anyway, so long as he held out his hand to you.

[imdefinitelyfloating]

A Perfect Chaos (spencer reid x reader)

Pairing: Spencer x fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

This will switch between Spencer’s POV and Reader’s POV – the first paragraph is Reader, and from there it alternates. I hope it isn’t too difficult to follow along!

The universe can be funny sometimes. It puts us in places we never expect to be, and sets into motion the new chapter of our lives. And I believe that is exactly what happened when I walked into the BAU bullpen on my first day at my new job, 3 years ago. The only empty desk sat across from a man, with his curly golden locks, his sharp jawline, and the softest eyes; I was sure, this was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I don’t know if I believe in love at first sight, but that’s the only way I can describe what I felt at that very fateful moment.

My whole life, I’ve been trying to narrow down all the things around me to an exact science. But when she walked in that day, I felt something I had never experienced before. I was… speechless. The way her hair flowed, the way her eyes sparkled, the way her skin shone despite the harsh lighting of the BAU bullpen; I’m sure, this was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon. There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other. I don’t know if I believe in soulmates, but that’s the only way I can describe what she would become to me.

Spencer and I became fast friends after I joined the BAU. I don’t know if it was intentional or just a simple coincidence, but Hotch always paired us together on cases, we sat opposite each other every day, and even rode all the same trains on the Metro. It’s safe to say we were quickly becoming the best of friends; we’d have Doctor Who marathons at his place, and have sleepovers at mine. Platonic, of course. There is no doubt in my mind that this is who I love, and this is who want to spend the rest of my life with. But I know he’ll never feel the same way, not for me.

Y/n became a place of comfort for me after tough cases, and she’d always be the one to pull me out and lift me up. She was my best friend, and I loved her, in more ways than she could even understand. I still remember the first time we sat together on the jet. It was a long case, and everyone was worn out. I felt the warmth radiating from her as she rested her head on my shoulder. I’m not the best with touch, but with her I didn’t mind. With her, I wish I could stay like that for all eternity. But I know she’ll never feel the same way, not for me.

Sitting opposite the man everyday, I quickly realised how much Spence loved his coffee (or in his case, sugar with a hint of coffee!) It soon became a tradition for us to bring coffee for each other every morning, and to go down to the little coffee shop a few blocks away on our shared breaks. As we’d walk, he would ramble on about Star Trek, and I’d counter back with my love of Star Wars! If there’s anyone who was going to challenge one of my favourite movie series, I’m glad it was him.

Valentine’s Day was always tough for me. To be honest, I was never really bothered by it until I met Y/n. Seeing her almost every day, but not being able to hold her, not being able to tell her how I really felt, it killed me inside. Every year, I thought this time I’m going to tell her. But when I would open my mouth to speak, it was like I’d forget how to talk, how to breathe. Now, three years later, I’m still just as speechless as I was when I had first met her.

February 14th – a day of love. It was meant to be a beautiful day, but for me it was just another day gone by when I hadn’t confessed my feelings to the man I so desperately wanted to hold, and to love. Still, me and Spence both went for our daily coffee break, both pretending to ignore the clearly obvious tension between us. We both had a lot of paperwork to get through, so we ordered our drinks to go. February in DC is unpredictable to say the least; the sun was finally shining through as we stepped into the small café, but as we stepped out, I felt the rain brush upon my face as I looked up to see clouds looming above us once again. And of course, just my luck, I don’t have my umbrella!

I must have forgotten my umbrella at my desk. The rain is really coming down now, so Y/n and I decide to take a shortcut through the park. We’re practically running now, and well, I’m not the most athletic of individuals. I stop at a bench, with Y/n coming back to hopelessly get me back up. She quickly gives in, sitting down on the small, wooden bench with me. The two of us sit in silence as I struggle to catch my breath in the cold Virginia air. But just as I felt my breath coming down to a more normal pace, I heard Y/n ask me the question I had been hoping she would never ask.

“So, Reid, who’s your Valentine’s?”

It had become something she’d ask me each year, always pestering me to go on dates or trying to set me up with one of her friends. But all I wanted to say was “I wish it was you.” It amazed me, a profiler, and she is still oblivious to how I really feel about her. Instead, I just brush her question off and ask her one instead.

“Who’s yours, Y/n?”

It’s now or never. If I don’t tell him now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. He has to know.

“I wish you were my Valentine.”

Is this real? Did she really just say that? No, she must be joking. She could never love someone like me. I’ll just laugh it off. Why isn’t she saying anything? And that’s when I saw it. I looked in her eyes. She’s serious? This is happening? Oh, this is happening. It’s now or never, she has to know. And with that, I pressed my lips to hers, and we stayed like that. The rain was pouring, the wind was howling. People were shouting “Get a room!” But we didn’t care. You always hear it in children’s fairytales, that when you truly love someone nothing else matters, the whole world stops except for you. I had never believed it until now, but Y/n is my fairytale come true.

As our lips parted from one another, we rested our foreheads together. Magic really does exist, because Spencer Reid is my magic.

Eventually, Y/n and I made it back to work. We were so ready for a trademark Hotch glare, coming back so long after our break had finished. But all we heard was Rossi, “Finally, thank God they admitted it!” I was about to speak, but Y/n read my mind and beat me to it:

“How did you- HOW?!”

Everyone erupted into a fit of laughter, Emily and JJ making pointing fingers and teasing as Garcia literally suffocated me in a classic Penelope hug. And then there’s Morgan patting Spencer a little too enthusiastically on the back, “Pretty Boy, my man!” Even Hotch gave a rare smile as he and Rossi observed the scene. It was a perfect chaos, and in the middle of it all stood Spencer and I, my soulmate and I.

Thank you for reading! 🥰💗