#like… I moved on too quickly from this hair

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment

Summary: A trip to town to run errands has you questioning everything.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,719

Warnings: Ch 21 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, overstimulation, creampie, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, unresolved sexual tension, angst, and of course fluff.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written the word panties as many times as I did here. Again, not much to say about this one, so I hope you enjoy!!

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You stare at your face in the mirror. Wisps of hair stick to your forehead from the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on for dear life. 

Your legs are trembling, quickly turning into jello. You lean forward more, resting your hips against the edge of the sink for stability. Your mouth falls open in a moan as it changes the position of the cock pistoning into you just slightly. 

Soft grunts leave Johnny’s lips as he fucks you in your bathroom, his thrusts urgent and desperate. Five minutes, he had groaned against your lips as he pushed your door open and walked you backwards into your room. 

It’s probably been longer than five minutes, but you’re hardly in the state of mind to care. He’s supposed to be halfway across the base by now, but you’re certain he doesn’t care either. It won’t take the others long to figure out what had made him so late, and you can almost guarantee John will make him pay for choosing to play hooky and having a quickie with you in the bathroom instead of going to training like he’s supposed to. 

One of his hands leaves the vice-like grip he’s had around your hips to slide to the front of your body, his fingers frantically rubbing circles over your clit. Your back arches in pleasure as the sensations become too much, your hips pushing back against his. He’s still dressed, his cargo pants pushed down over his ass just enough to free his cock. Your pants are around your ankles, underwear pushed to the side. Your shirt and bra are pushed up over your chest, your breasts out on display for him. His eyes haven’t left them in the mirror and the way they bounce with every rough thrust of his hips. 

“Jesus christ, yer gonnae kill me.” He groans as your pussy clamps tightly around him. 

He presses his chest to your back, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as you writhe in his arms. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as you cum, your legs trying to clamp around his hand. 

“Johnny!” You squeal as the sensation becomes overwhelming. “Too much!” 

“Ye can take it.” He groans in your ear, his voice breathy and hoarse from pleasure. “Just a little more.” 

All you can do is babble incoherently as he continues to slam his hips into your ass, his breaths heavy in your ear. You can feel the pressure building again despite the burning overstimulation of his fingers on your clit. 

“Please, please, please!” You pant, your head pressing back against his shoulder as you arch further against him. 

“Fucking love this sweet little cunt.” He growls into your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “So fucking good fer me.” 

You’re cumming again, your knees buckling under you. His arm snakes around your waist, finally moving from your clit to hold you up. He lets out a loud, salacious groan as his hips slam into you one last time. You can feel his cock twitching as he cums, emptying his load inside you. 

His forehead presses against your back for a moment as you both attempt to catch your breaths. Your legs are still trembling as he begins to move, pulling his cock from you before he slides your panties back into place. He drags his hand over your covered folds, groaning quietly. 

“Better keep that in there.” He says, tugging your pants back up, doing the button for you and tugging the zipper back up. “Keep your mind on me the whole day.” 

You moan softly at his words, your pussy clenching out of instinct. He groans as he tucks himself back into his pants, staring down at your tits as you turn to face him. He curses, cupping them in his hands for a moment. 

“Fuck, I have tae go. Price is gonna kick my arse for bein’ late.” He leans down to kiss you, tugging your bra and shirt back down. “See ye at lunch, if I survive the wrath waitin’ fer me.” 

He leaves you there so casually, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes fucking you relentlessly in your bathroom. Your legs are still trembling as you lean against the sink, your teeth sinking into your lip as Johnny’s cum begins to seep out of you. They’ll know, they’ll know exactly why he’s late with one whiff of his scent. He’ll smell like you, smell like the musky scent of sex and sweat. All hope of blaming it on something else is out the window. 

All you can do is pray John goes easy on him. It’s not like you haven’t made John late before, though usually both of you were late for meals because you decided you needed an appetizer, and it felt unfair to make him walk around half hard. You hope he can have a little sympathy for Johnny. If you’d said no, made him be on time to training, he might not have been able to focus at all. 

You still can’t be sure he’ll be able to focus, though. You’ve probably only succeeded in changing the trajectory of his thoughts. Instead of whistfully picturing himself fucking you, he will be thinking about how he fucked you. 

You wonder how John will punish him for being late and distracted. Pushups? Running? Maybe extra rounds running the obstacle course. Or maybe he’ll save the punishment for later. Maybe he’ll force Johnny to sit there and watch him fuck Johnny’s cum out of you, force Johnny to sit still and not touch himself or you. Maybe he’ll fuck you right over Johnny, your tits bouncing in his face just as he likes, but he’ll be restrained, forced to watch but not to touch. He’ll get all whiny, begging for any mercy as his cock gets all red and swollen, throbbing in time with John’s thrusts. 

Your pussy clenches at the thought, more of Johnny’s release seeping out of you. 

Fuck, you are going to be thinking about him all day. 

“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.

“Get your dick caught in a door again?” Simon asks, crossing his arms too. 

“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, catching the overwhelming scent of sex and strawberries wafting off his fellow beta. 

Simon’s hands clench, his scent thickening just a little, but none of them seem to pick up on it. 

“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” John says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.” 

Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Your scent is thick on his clothes, wafting into his nose, bringing back mental images of you bent over before him, tits bouncing in the mirror as he drove his hips into your ass over and over. Those sweet cries of pleasure, the way you shoot in his arms making his blood pump in his veins, the satisfaction making his head spin a bit. 

Kyle moves first, hoping to use Johnny’s seemingly distracted state against him. He aims for Johnny’s middle, but Johnny’s ready for it, blocking Kyle from getting his arms around him. 

Johnny uses the advantage, planting his feet firmly as he flips Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields, Johnny’s shoulder in his stomach not helping the spasm in his diaphragm from how he hit the mat. 

“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”

“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks. 

“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”

“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place. 

Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet. 

His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest. 

The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him. 

Simon rams his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach, the air leaving the beta’s lungs in a pained gasp. He flips Johnny onto his back, the back of his head smacking the mat. 

“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault. 

Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind. 

He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric. 

He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times. 

That's the one thing he can't be right now. 

“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.” 

Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him. 

It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control. 

Price can report that to the stupid initiative program. 

“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look. 

Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.” 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better.” You say, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night.” 

“That’s great! Small improvements are still improvements.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down on her notepad. “How are things going with your pack? Have things settled since they returned?” 

You nod. “Yeah. For the most part. There’s still...something lingering.” You chew on your lip nervously. You can’t tell her what it is, the thing that eats you alive daily. She’d have to tell your pack, and then everything would come undone. “I’m worried that any day now they’ll have to leave me again.” 

“You won’t be alone this time, though.” She says, reminding you of what John had done for you. 

“I know, but...what if they don’t come back?” 

“That is an unfortunate reality, a risk you all have to live with. There’s not much that can be changed about that, but I know they’ll do everything in their power to return home to you.” ’ She gives you a soft smile. “They care about you a lot.” 

“But...they're supposed to put their jobs above everything else. That was part of this whole experiment. Their jobs come first, and I come second.” 

“But, Captain Price has already advocated against that by requiring one of them stay behind with you when they get sent out on assignments. That’s not putting their job above you.” 

She’s right. John fighting to make things more comfortable for you was them putting their priority on you and your comfort. Of course, John had told you they had only advocated for it at this point. There was no guarantee those in leadership would approve, that General Shepherd would approve, but he said he’d fight it as hard as he had to. It wasn’t always necessary for all of them to be sent out anyway, so it was more likely there’d be at least one, if not two of them with you most of the time.

“Besides,” Dr. Keller continues. “In my professional opinion, it’s not sustainable to expect them to have an omega in their pack and also expect them to neglect their omega in favor of their jobs. The whole point of the initiative is to see if the assimilation of omegas into military packs will be helpful or a hindrance. There has to be a balance if they want even a chance at this being successful. While their jobs and what they do is important, they can’t expect full dedication to that job while also trying to care for an omega.” 

You’ve never thought about it that way before. They had been so dead set in your briefings about how their jobs were more important than you and how you had to be prepared for anything to happen because their job always comes first. 

“It’s important to keep in mind that you are essentially the trial for this initiative. There’s going to be ups and downs, things they didn’t account for in their planning, if they did any real planning, and things that have to be adjusted as they come up. There’s just some things you can’t properly predict until the trial is taking place.” 

You haven’t really thought about it that way either. You are the first omega involved in this initiative, the trial run, the guinea pig. Is that why General Shepherd came to base and wanted to meet you? Is that why they wanted cameras in your room? To ensure things really were going properly, and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do? That things really are as fine as you, and likely John, have said? 

What if they think things are going badly? What if they think the initiative is a failure? What happens then? What can they really do now that you’ve been claimed and assimilated into the pack? 

“What’s going on in your head?” Dr. Keller asks softly. 

“What if...what’s going to happen if the initiative fails?” You ask. 

Dr. Keller hums, obviously not having expected that question. “Well, I don’t think there’s much they can do. They made it far enough in the planning that they thought it was worth the chance of a live trial with an omega and an established pack. They wouldn’t have taken that risk without the belief that it will be successful.” Dr. Keller crosses her legs, setting her notebook to the side. “If, and it’s a big if, it failed, then there’s not a lot they can do, legally. You’ve been claimed, which legally puts you under Captain Price’s care, and while the military is a grey area when it comes to legality, I doubt they’d run the risk of trying to remove you from the pack at this point.” 

“They’d run the risk of their task force falling apart.” You say, the pieces starting to come together. 

Dr. Keller nods. “Exactly. If your pack is as important as they appear to be, I doubt anyone involved in this would take that risk of losing such valuable soldiers. Forcibly removing you would turn your pack against them in the blink of an eye. All trust they have in their superiors will be turned on its head and destroyed completely. No matter how loyal they are to their jobs, that loyalty will shift very quickly should something happen to you at their hands.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your heart rate starting to kick up. So you had made the right choice in keeping General Shepherd’s visit and the cameras a secret. The last thing you want is to ruin their lives over what was probably nothing, over something that would have been inconsequential in the end. Something they possibly know about already. 

That thought lingers constantly in the back of your mind. They know and they’re waiting for you to finally spill and reveal what happened. What happens then? How will they punish you for lying to them, for withholding important information, information that puts not only you, but them at risk as well? Will they ever forgive you for not telling them right away? Could you grovel and plead with excuses of fear and naivety? Could you lie again and claim you were scruffed? John already knows of your nightmares, of your fear. You’d have to think up a reason as to why you lied to him that night too, though. 

Lying will only dig you deeper and deeper into more lies until all their trust in you is broken beyond repair. 

The trust between you will still be broken if you tell them, though. 

“Have you been thinking of this a lot lately?” Dr. Keller asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You nod, dropping your gaze to your hands. “I overheard John and Simon talking about it the other night. Simon asked if this was worth it if it failed, and John seemed confident it wouldn’t.” 

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” You lift your gaze to meet Dr. Keller’s. Her face is as serious as her tone. “Your pack isn’t going to let anything happen to you. Pack loyalty to omegas is not something to be tested, especially not a pack as fierce as yours. They’d go to war for you, if they had to. I don’t doubt that one bit.” 

Your brows pull into a frown. “You really think so?” 

She nods. “I know so. You’re very lucky.” 

You are lucky. Things could have been much worse for you. 

“C’mon kitten,” Johnny says, barging into your room. 

You let out a startled shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin as you clutch your towel desperately around your naked, still slightly damp form. You just got out of the shower not too long ago, and had been deciding on what to wear on the warmest day you’ve experienced since your arrival in England when Johnny barged his way into your room. 

Barged may be a strong word for it. Your door wasn’t even closed all the way. 

Your heart is still thudding in your chest, your breaths slightly heavy as he digs through your closet, picking out clothes for you. “What the hell?” You breathe, adjusting your grip on your towel. “Scared the shit out of me.” 

Johnny turns, giving you a grin. “Sorry, kitten.” His eyes drop to where you’re clutching the towel, and you can practically see the idea flash through his mind, the idea to rip the towel off and lick every last droplet of water off of your body before having his way with you. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, trying to refocus his mind on what he was doing. 

His eyes snap back up to yours, his grin widening. “We’re goin’ on an excursion.” 

“Excursion?” You ask, barely managing to catch the clothes he throws at you and keep your towel up at the same time. 

“Got some errands tae run in town, an’ yer comin’ with us.” He looks you over. “So get your claes on and meet us outside.” 

You blink at him as he leaves your room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You stare down at the clothes in your hands, a t-shirt and the skirt that’s been hanging in your closet that you had yet to even try on. Of course he’d pick something like that for you to wear. You’re tempted to go without underwear, but that’s probably exactly what he wanted. If you were staying in the barracks, then you might have done it, but being out in public you don’t want to risk a stray breeze. The last thing you need is some alpha seeing it as an opportunity and trying something stupid. 

You finish getting ready, drying yourself off and getting dressed before pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes. Your hair is still slightly damp as you make your way out of the barracks, a car pulled up outside as you expected. 

“You promise to drive carefully?” John is saying, holding the keys up in front of Johnny. 

“Of course.” Johnny says, looking past him to grin at you. “There’s precious cargo on board.” 

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” John says, giving him a look before dropping the keys into Johnny’s hand. John turns to you, staring down at you for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Let me know when you get there.” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek before getting into the car. 

You’re surprised to see Simon sitting in the passenger seat. You had expected maybe Kyle would be tagging along, or even John, but this is something entirely unexpected. He’s in his beanie and face mask combo again, the same thing he’d been wearing when he and John took you to town before your heat. 

The night he bought the ingredients to make you enchiladas. 

It still brings a warmth to your chest when you think about it, that he did that for you. It had been his idea to do it, his idea to bring you some comfort during the stress and insecurity your approaching heat had brought on. He does care about you, in his own way. He’s been showing it, at least for the most part, looking back on your interactions with him. 

He has to care about you, if he’s willing to do this. 

It wasn’t his decision, you know that. Johnny was likely forcing him to come along, either to appease John’s concerns, or in case of an incident. Not that Johnny’s not fully capable of handling a situation on his own, but having an alpha at your back makes it less likely someone would try something at all. 

The fact John is trusting them with you speaks volumes of his trust in his pack, in his second alpha. You know they won’t let anything happen to you, they’ll protect you just as fiercely as if you were their omega. 

You could be, if he wanted it. 

You push that thought to the back of your mind as Johnny climbs into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life.

Johnny isn’t a terrible driver. Despite the many stories you’ve heard over the last few weeks, you had been expecting worse. Kyle had been right, of course, he takes the speed limit as more of a suggestion, and weaves around on the road, passing slower cars and farm equipment in ways that are probably not legal. Despite that, you’re not gripping the seat in fear or holding on for dear life. You had been expecting much worse when he climbed into the driver’s seat. 

Though, from what you’ve heard, Johnny is the most preferable of the two in the car when it comes to driving. 

The farmlands fade into civilization as the buildings grow closer and closer together. It’s only your fourth trip into town, but yet you’ve already begun to recognize landmarks, businesses. You could navigate if you had to, something you know they’d be proud of. You wonder if Simon would praise you for that, considering how annoyed he always seems to be about how much time you spend lost in your own thoughts. 

Johnny pulls into a parking spot on the street, and you send a quick text to John to let him know you made it in one piece. Johnny opens your door for you, offering you a hand. You take it, letting him help you out before he laces your fingers together, squeezing your hand gently. 

You’re glad you wore comfortable shoes as you walk around with them, picking up a few items from different shops. Johnny keeps hold of your hand, Simon walking behind the two of you like a protective shadow. The people you pass on the street give you a wide berth, and you know it’s Simon’s doing as their eyes skirt past you and Johnny to the big alpha trailing you. You can imagine the silent threat behind his eyes, daring them to even think of trying anything. 

“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a familiar storefront. 

You’ve been here before, the day of your first date with John when he’d taken your virginity. The lingerie shop where you’d gotten those lacy panties the guys seemed to admire so much. Your cheeks warm as Johnny opens the door for you, the stark reminder of who you’re with suddenly snapping into your mind. This trip definitely was Johnny’s doing. Did he even know this was a stop that you were going to make? If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come along and talked Kyle into it instead. 

Or maybe he did know and he did want to come along. 

Or, maybe, Johnny pouted at him and begged until he had no choice but to agree. 

The answer is likely the latter. 

 You wonder if he’ll stay outside, or perhaps even return to the car in favor of stepping into a lingerie store. You can’t imagine him inside, the hulking alpha among the delicate lace and fabrics. A bull in a china shop. 

You’re surprised when he enters behind you, looking about as uncomfortable as you expected him to in a place like this. His shoulders are squared, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides. He’s looking everywhere but at what’s on the racks, his gaze flicking around the store instead, taking stock of everyone inside shopping. 

You let Johnny take the lead, Simon keeping his distance as you peruse the racks. You’re not just there to replenish your quickly dwindling stash of lacy underwear, you realize as Johnny begins flipping through items on the racks. He’s got some other ideas for you as well. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the concentration in his eyes as he looks over his options. 

Your face gets warmer and warmer as he holds things up in front of you, studying you and the lingerie. He’s picturing you in it, most likely in lewd positions. You’re close to combusting out of bashfulness, but also from the fire igniting under your veins. You’re trying to keep it under control, trying to keep things as discreet as possible for the sake of the other shoppers in the store. The last thing you want is to draw any unwanted attention and cause a scene. 

“That’s definitely the one.” He says, holding up a purple mess of lace and straps. You’re not sure how you’re going to get into it, much less what it will look like while you’re wearing it, but he seems to know what he’s looking at, so you’re not going to contradict him. You might just need his help getting into it, which you’re sure he won’t complain about. 

Your skin prickles as you continue to follow Johnny, warning bells going off in the back of your head. 

Someone is staring at you. 

You lift your gaze from the rack Johnny is flipping through, scanning the store to try and find who it is that’s staring at you so intently. It’s not Simon where he’s lingering against the back wall trying to avoid touching anything like it might infect him with some deadly disease, or give him the mental image of you in it. 

The prickling of your skin feels too different from the prickling you usually feel when his gaze is on you. Someone is watching you, yet the shoppers and even the employees in the store are in their own little worlds, going about their business and paying you no mind. You step closer to Johnny, your arm brushing his. It’s not unlike the feeling you get in your room, the idea that there were cameras in there, that there still might be one that you missed. That paranoid tickling down your spine that you might be being watched at any moment. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, looking up at you as you step even closer to him. 

Warmth presses against your back, making you flinch just slightly in surprise. You nearly panic, until the familiar scent of leather and eucalyptus washes over you. 

“What is it?” Warm breath fans your ear, calloused fingers ghosting down your bare arm. 

“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You say quietly, leaning into both of them. 

Both of them straighten up, and you can imagine their gazes scanning the store, profiling every single customer and worker, picking up things you could only dream of noticing. Simon’s fingers wrap around your arm, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to offer a little support as they look for the culprit of your paranoid feelings. 

There’s no tickling at the back of your neck signaling your brain picking up on a change to Simon’s emotions. Neither of them seem to pick up on a possible threat. Perhaps it’s all just in your head, some sort of trauma response after being cooped up on base for so long paired with what happened while they were away. There are cameras in the store. You are being watched. Maybe it’s just trauma fueled paranoia after all. 

Simon lets go of your arm to step up close to Johnny, speaking quietly to him. You’re not listening, your eyes scanning the store again. You slide closer to Simon, the prickling feeling of being watched gone now. Your hand lifts, fingers wrapping around his forearm, his skin warm under your touch. You’ve never been quite this close to him, this physical, that wasn’t out of necessity before. It’s exciting, the prospect of being so open with him. Just the thought that he noticed your discomfort, picked up on your worry like that makes your omega want to roll over and show her belly. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon. 

Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod without even thinking about it. “Yeah.” 

“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” He says. They must not have noticed anything worthy of being concerned about, nothing that could lead them to thinking there’s a threat. 

It’s just like what happened that morning when you asked Simon to open the door to your room all over again. 

Suddenly the mood shifts back to what it was at Johnny’s words, Simon shifting uncomfortably next to you. You can feel his muscles flex under your hand as he clenches his fists, letting out a long breath. 

You shake off the paranoia and the worry, putting your trust in them should something happen. You drop your hand from his forearm to his wrist, tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You grin teasingly up at him. 

“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear. 

You find the ones that you had gotten before, grabbing one in every color. Simon stands to the side like a guard dog, arms crossed, trying to look as manly as possible amongst the lace and ribbons. You pick up a couple more in Johnny’s favorite color, the beta approaching you both. 

“Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of panties.

You nearly choke as you stare at them, Simon shifting just slightly behind you. In Johnny’s hands are a pair of black cheeky panties with lace edges. They wouldn’t be anything special, had it not been for the skull pattern on the fabric. 

Your face warms as you stare at them, the meaning not lost on you. Of course Johnny would find something like that in a store with probably hundreds of pairs of underwear. You can’t help but think he might have been looking for something like that this whole time. 

Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face Simon. His back brushes your chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding the panties up in front of your chest. 

You wish you could see Simon’s face. All of his face. His jaw is clenched, his eyes burning as he stares at the underwear in Johnny’s hands. His whole body is tense, the tendons and muscles in his forearms bulging from how tightly he’s clenching his muscles. A bead of sweat runs down your back from the intensity of his stare, his gaze shifting from the underwear to your face. They flicker back and forth, almost like he doesn’t quite know which is worse to look at: you or the panties. 

His body tenses even more, his gaze finally settling on the underwear. He’s imagining you in them. You can see it, the way his eyes get darker and darker, his scent thickening. Several thoughts run through your head as you stare at him, your stomach fluttering as you suddenly come to a realization. You lift your hands, taking the underwear from Johnny, continuing to hold it in front of your chest. 

“Fucking hell...” Simon breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists. 

“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?” 

His gaze snaps to yours, and it nearly has you running for cover. He looks like he wants to simultaneously devour you and bend you over the nearest table. The primal urge to run tickles in the back of your brain, to run and let him chase you. 

He looks like he would do it, too. 

Have you been misreading his actions towards you? You never thought he’d feel like that about you. Was his reluctant tolerance, his drive to keep you at arm’s length less because he disliked you, and more because he likes you too much?

His behavior and his actions begin to make sense the more you think about it. He’s not keeping you at arm's distance because he doesn't like you, because he doesn’t think you don’t belong with them. He’s not afraid of the weakness you might cause in the pack, the disruption you’ve brought to their lives. He’s afraid of how you’re making him feel. 

Has he ever been in love? Has he ever held feelings for another before Johnny? Did he even want to have feelings for Johnny in the first place, or did Johnny force his way in until Simon finally accepted he can’t change the way he feels? 

You’re not trying to invoke that kind of response from him. You’ve respected his boundaries, kept him at arm’s distance as much as you could to try and avoid making him hate you, to try and avoid ruining all the work you’ve put into just making him accept you as part of the pack. 

Maybe you had been trying in all the wrong ways. 

All the things he did for you, all the ways he treated you suddenly make sense. His disappointment at your neglecting him on the tarmac should have made it obvious to you. 

Hell, he’d let you spoon him the very next morning like it was nothing. 

Does he want to be your second alpha? Even if he doesn’t, does he want to push past that barrier and open up to that kind of relationship with you? The bond you have with him is hardly even platonic, a weak thread connecting you built out of proximity and interaction. The bond you have with Dr. Keller is stronger, and she’s not even part of your pack. 

Does he want to build that bond with you? 

Looking at him has your body warming, a fire igniting under your skin. You can’t handle it anymore, the intensity of his stare threatening to make you do something indecent in this lingerie shop. 

You turn to face Johnny, certain steam has to be rising off your body at this point. You shove the pile of panties into his hands, including the one with skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, trying to ignore the grin pulling at his lips. 

You take half a second to breathe as the tension in the air is cut off, another shopper passing by, giving the three of you a look. You’re sure you’re projecting your scent, and you can imagine just how much Simon’s scent has taken over the store. 

Johnny carries the armful of lingerie to the checkout and you follow behind him, Simon bending down to whisper something in his ear before heading for the door. You watch him step outside, moving until he’s just visible through the glass from the register. You have half a mind to follow him, half a mind to confront him and ask him for an explanation, ask him why he felt it necessary to hold you at arm’s length when there’s a chance he’s been feeling this way the whole time. 

You don’t, instead sticking close to Johnny’s side as he pays far too much for the lingerie. Your heart is still racing from the exchange with Simon, your hands shaking just a little as Johnny hands you the bag. His hand is warm on your back as he guides you from the store, Simon turning as you approach him. 

“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, leading you back towards the car. 

“We need to talk.” 

You almost turn tail and run as Simon’s gaze snaps up to meet yours. He sits there, frozen for just a moment, before he slowly lowers his phone, sliding it into his sweatshirt pocket. You don’t sit down on the couch next to him, instead you remain standing, wanting to keep the energy in the room in your favor. You know if you sit, your brain will slip into submission to the large alpha. At least looking down on him, you have more of a chance at keeping that illusion of dominance. 

“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, ready to bolt in case this goes south. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.” 

His gaze hardens as he stares up at you, and despite your position of dominance, you wish he’d take off his mask just so you could read his face, read his reactions. You can’t back down, though. Not now, not when things have come to a head between you. There’s no going back, there’s no playing pretend anymore. You can’t move on after the events earlier in the lingerie shop.

“I want to know the truth.” You say, not backing down. You won’t submit to him so easily this time. 

“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He says, looking away from you to stare at the black screen of the television. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny.” He continues, his voice softer than it had been. “That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.” 

Your face warms at the idea of Johnny spilling all the intimate details. It doesn’t upset you as much as it probably should, though it wasn’t like they couldn’t all hear it happening. Simon especially, sharing a wall with him. He probably could have recounted the whole thing himself if he’d wanted to. 

“I wanted to hate you. Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.” 

A frown pulls at your brows as you listen to him. As an alpha in the pack, he technically could if he wanted to. You’re certain John wouldn’t have a problem with it, in fact he might encourage it, if it gets rid of the stick that’s been up Simon’s ass since your arrival, or maybe even before then. 

“I-I don’t understand.” You say, stepping closer to him. 

“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. You freeze in your approach, your weight shifting back in case you need to run. “I can’t.” He repeats, his voice softer, the tenseness in his shoulders deflating as he diverts his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.” 

Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head. 

You understand it now. Those four words have given you all the explanation you need to understand his hesitation, his predicament, why it’s taken him this long to openly admit his feelings, to accept them. 

You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. His gaze is anywhere but on you, seeming very small despite his hulking size. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.” 

His hand is big and warm as it slowly relaxes against your face. His eyes meet yours, staring deep into them. You stare right back, not letting his size or the intensity of his gaze force you to submit. His thumb drags along your cheekbone, his calluses scratching across your skin, but that’s a feeling you’ve become very used to. You press your hand against his, your fingers trembling just slightly from the emotion and the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly. 

You shrug. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?” 

He stares at you for a while, his hand still pressed against your cheek. You wish you could read his mind, see the thoughts turning those wheels behind his eyes. You wish he was an open book, something you could breeze right through like the ones on the shelves. Instead, he might be the most closed off person you’ve ever met. You’ve never even seen his face 

Slowly he begins leaning forward, his gaze never leaving yours. If it hadn’t been for the mask, you might have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. You might have leaned in for a kiss, had he not been wearing the mask. Instead he leans forward until your foreheads are touching, his gaze finally leaving yours as his eyes flutter closed. You finally relax yourself, melting into him slightly as you sit there, breathing in the quiet moment. Something’s shifting, something’s changing between the two of you. 

You’re not quite sure how it’s going to end, but you can’t deny the bond beginning to form between you and Simon. 

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving

@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

[woso-dreamzzz]

Captain II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You come home after being announced as captain

In true Magda fashion, everyone in her contact list gets a call. A quick 'did you hear my kid's Sweden Captain?' call where she ends it before the other person can reply.

You get a text and several missed calls that you just ignore until you're free to go to your mothers' house. It was a slip that had you forgetting to tell them that you were Sweden's new captain.

There wasn't much time between your discussion with Emma and walking out to the press conference.

The best you could have given them was a text in warning but, judging by the messages your Morsa sent and all the uncharacteristic emojis she sent with it, you assumed she was happy.

You also assumed that you wouldn't be yelled at for not giving them a heads up.

You pull up at their house and sigh.

Frido's car is also in the driveway and you roll your eyes.

You don't want to think about how many traffic laws she broke to get here before you.

You unlock the front door, unbothered with using the bell, and slip inside.

The low hum of the tv is apparent as you slide off your shoes and hang up your coat. Frido's definitely in the house because you have to put your shoes next to hers and her bag is sitting on the stairs.

You're not entirely sure why she keeps bringing a bag when all her clothes are in the spare room but you don't dwell on it long before making your way into the living room.

Momma is sitting on the sofa, watching the last five minutes of a random show before what she actually wants to watch comes on.

"Your Morsa and moster are in the garden," She tells you," Calling everyone they know to brag."

"Are you angry I didn't tell you? Are they?"

"I'm not angry and those two are much too smug to be angry as well."

You smile and sit next to Pernille, one of her arms being thrown over your shoulder comfortably.

"At least tell me you told Natalia at least. She's not got access to you while on camp like we do."

"I told Talia," You reply.

In fact, Talia was the first and only person you told before the press conference. She'd congratulated you with a laugh before teasing and saying to take it in while you could because she would be gunning for the Spanish captaincy next.

She'd get it eventually, you knew that. It was only a matter of time but, still, you were the only national captain in the relationship at the moment and you just knew she'd have something to say about it when you finally reunited.

"Good girl," Pernille says," I'd hate for her to suddenly appear at the house unexpectedly. You know what your Morsa gets like."

In sync, you both lean forward to peer out of the windows leading to the garden.

Magda's still on the phone, waving her hand around excitedly as her mouth moves quickly before she drops the call only to immediately make a new one.

Frido's also pacing around the garden doing the exact same thing and you can't help but roll your eyes at both of them.

Magda catches your eyes and instantly makes her way back inside.

"Look at you!" She cries, bursting into the room," My little captain! Look at you!"

You're pulled away from Pernille and crushed into a hug as Magda all but sobs into your hair.

"I remember the first time you wore the armband! So small! You couldn't even walk yet! It kept slipping off! Now look at you!"

"Morsa," You groan, trying to escape from her suffocating hug," Let go!"

"My baby!" She's definitely crying now. "Carrying Sweden to greatness!"

(One day, you do lead Sweden to greatness. One day, you make your mark as one of Sweden's captains. One day, you pass off the armband to a young player you saw greatness in like your captain did for you.)

"Come on," You complain," Let go!"

You're released, only to be forced right back into another hug, from your moster Frido now.

Her hugs is just as suffocating as Magda's. She rocks side to side with you as you struggle to get away.

She speaks to Magda over your head. "Do you think I can borrow your old armband? I can't just wear her shirt to matches anymore. Got to complete the look."

"Please don't," You beg but she ignores you.

"Er..." Magda says," I'm not sure actually. I'll have a look-"

"It's on the bedside table," Pernille cuts in," Magda insisted on wearing it last night when we-"

"Gross!" You complain," Please don't talk about your sex life. You know I wear the armband now. Please don't make me think about you guys having sex every time I wear it."

You peak your head over Frido's shoulder to look at your mothers.

Magda shrugs. "A healthy sex life-"

"Stop!" You clamp your hands over your ears. "Stop talking or I'll go straight back to camp. Stop talking!"

Magda waves a hand dismissively. "You'll find out what I mean as soon as you see Natalia again."

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[mariasont]

Tie a Tie - A.H

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?" 

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

--

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 

He decided this was his new lucky tie. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[finelinevogue]

to new beginnings

summary - you and harry are drunk on the streets of rome

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨

“It’s literally this way.”

“No it isn’t.”

You tugged on Harry’s hand, attempting to make him follow you down a road - that looked like an alley - that you were sure would lead you to the main square.

Harry was insistent you were going the wrong way, but who could actually tell when you were both as drunk as each other.

Harry stood still as he watched you were drunk eyes and a soft smile, as you tried to tug him your way.

“Haarryy!”

“Y/NN!”

“Come on! I know what I’m doing.”

“No you don’t. You’re sloshed!” Harry laughed, watching you spin around in circles for whatever reason.

“I’m not sloshed… I’M IN LOVE.” You shouted to the universe, and also the unfortunate old couple that just happened to be walking past at the same time.

Before you could apologise, the old man spoke; “I remember when we were like that, Carla.”

You smiled warmly, looking from them to Harry. Harry was already smiling towards you, that spark still in his eyes for you even after 5 years together.

5 years together but only 2 days of being married.

Marriage was pretty happy so far.

“We still are.” The old woman smiled at her husband as they passed by.

You continued to walk off then, walking down the road you wanted to go down.

It was a very small and quaint alley, lots of balconies with hanging green baskets and drying clothes. You looked up at them as you passed by, your trainers padding along on the cobbled floor as you walked.

As you were in your own little world, you didn’t hear Harry sneak up on you until his arms were around your waist and lifting you up in the air to spin you around.

“Harry!” You laughed, your jaw hurting from smiling so much.

“Will you ever learn to listen to me?” He bit playfully onto your exposed shoulder, where the thin strap of your dress lay.

“Never!”

“Is that how marriage works? You being in charge?”

“Obviously.”

He safely set you on the ground and you brushed your dress-skirt down, before twirling around and throwing your arms around his neck.

“What?” He asked, smiling down at your happy face.

“I’m in charge.” You tried to say seriously, but you were too drunk to be in complete control of your face.

“Okay.” Harry gave in, kissing your forehead.

“No, I am. I really am.”

“I know.”

“That means I can control you to do loads of things for me.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Harry asked, even though he was ready to say yes to everything.

“Umm, buy me flowers every day.”

He kissed you then, “Done.”

“Okay,” You blushed, “Hmm. Come on beach walks with me every weekend - no matter how far from the coast we are.”

He kissed you again then, “Yup.”

“Uhh what about…”

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “Yes, yes, yes. Yes to anything and everything. Boss me around all day everyday, I don’t care as long as you’re happy, my love.”

“I am. Very happy.”

You leaned up to kiss him properly then, showing him just how much you love him. You scrunched the small hair on the back of his neck and pulled him closer, moving in tandem with each other like you’d known each other a lifetime not only five years.

You pulled away first but quickly moved to kiss his jaw and leading down his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin to give him a hickey.

“Babe… No!” Harry laughed, knowing how much you loved giving him hickeys but never somewhere everyone could see.

“Nooooo.” You whined as he pulled your head away from his neck.

“Baby, you’re drunk and I’m drunk but I know we’re going to be mad at each other if you give me a public hickey. So be good and stop.”

You scrunched your face up in pretend anger.

“You’re annoying.” You kiss him on the lips once more.

“So are you.”

“That’s not very nice.” You feigned shock.

“Aww, are you sad?”

“Don’t taunt me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Lemme kiss you to make up for it.” Harry leaned in to kiss you but you shoved your hand on his face and pushed him away before he could.

You laughed as he pretended to be hurt by your action, but you ran off down the road before he could say or do anything.

He shook his head with a smile as he watched you go, nearly tripping over a cobble stone even in your flat shoes.

“Y/N/N, be careful.”

You stood at the end of the alley watching Harry still standing there with a fond smile.

“C’mon! I hear music.” You urged him.

So he came.

He wandered over to you casually, feeling like he had all the time in the world to spend with you. Every moment of his was now yours and he couldn’t be happier to share them all with you. You. He sometimes couldn’t believe he’d managed to end up with you.

You held out a hand for him and he took it, slinking his fingers through yours.

You hummed in delight and the both of you walked in silence, off towards the vibrant music of the city to dance the night to new beginnings.

[golden1u5t]

a reason to survive | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: fluff

ꨄ summary: telling spencer you’re pregnant when you go to visit him in prison

You sat down at the table in the interrogation room Emily had arranged for you, waiting for them to bring Spencer in. When the door opened you quickly wiped the stray tears from your face and turned to look at him, the officers took the cuffs off his wrist.

Spencer sat down across from you and frowned, he could tell that you'd been crying, that something was bothering you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing- nothing's wrong. I'm happy to see you." You reached forward and grabbed his hands, you looked down at them and smiled softly. "Spence, I have something to tell you."

God, his heart dropped and shattered to a million pieces, he was prepared to hear the worse from you. You moved your hands away from his and put them in your lap, looking up at him. Spencer could hear your foot tapping against the floor, something you only did when you were nervous.

"I took a pregnancy test last week, i haven't been feeling too good." Your foot stopped for a brief moment, when he didn't say anything it started back up. "Say something, please."

Spencer's lips parted and then closed again, he looked around the room before finally speaking. "Is it- l've been here, for the past two months."

Now, he was never the one to accuse you of anything because he knew how much you loved him but it was the first thing that came to mind. He didn't like the thought of you being with someone else while he was incarcerated but it was the only explanation, well, to him.

“i'm not- I haven't cheated on you, if that's what you're saying. I went to the doctors and they confirmed that i was 3 months. I-| don't know how i didn't know until now." You reached for his hands again. Spencer looked at you, eyes wide and lips parted, he couldn't believe what you were telling him.

Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over him, he pulled his hands back from yours and ran his hands through his hair. You stared at him, thinking that what you told him wasn't something he wanted to hear.

"I can't believe you're pregnant. I hate that you'll be going through it alone because i'm in here and there's no way i'll be getting out before you have the baby, i'll miss it." Tears welled in his eyes as he thought about you going through your first pregnancy alone.

"Don't say that. Your team is the best team out there, they'll get you out." You tried you best to be optimistic. The door opened and your time was up, you reached for him one last time.

"I just need you to stay alive in here, okay?"

[therealmrsgojo]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky

pairing: gojo satoru x reader content: "Mommy? How much did Daddy love us?" warnings: NSFW, MDNI. established relationship, wife reader, pregnant reader, angst, comfort, canon-divergence. wordcount: 5k

As the soft, caressing night breeze murmurs through the air, two figures lie entwined, seeking solace in each other's arms. They cherish the steady ebb and flow of one another's breath, relishing the warmth and intimacy it bestows.

The weight of the day's challenges had been almost too much for you to bear. The endless routine, the constant demands, the unrelenting pressure to succeed—it had all taken its toll on your mind and body.

But as you felt the familiar scent of your husband, Gojo Satoru, envelop you, it was as if all the weariness and tension melted away, leaving you nothing but comfort.

His touch was like a balm to your soul, easing the ache in your heart and filling you with a deep sense of love and belonging.

The world could spin on its axis, and the stars could twinkle in the sky, but as long as you were in his arms, you knew everything would be alright.

Safe.

He had always made you feel safe.

His phone's ringing broke the peaceful silence, alerting him to a message. You watched as he reached for it on the nightstand, his fingers deftly navigating the screen.

When he leaned in closer, you felt the warmth of his breath and the soft touch of his lips as he placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the side of your head.

His hand then gently moved down, his fingertips tracing a delicate path to caress your small, yet prominent, stomach bump.

You lay perfectly still, willing your eyes to remain shut. Seeing a message flashing on his phone could only mean one thing.

Jujutsu Society.

"Sweetheart?" Satoru's gentle voice whispered to you, concern evident in his tone. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I am," you replied, slowly opening your eyes to the dimly lit room. You locked eyes with him, seeing the worry etched on his face, which elicited your chuckle. "You have worn that concerned expression ever since I became pregnant, Satoru."

He let out a soft chuckle as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, a boyish grin lighting up his features. His deep blue eyes seemed to be committing every detail of you to memory as he spoke, "Naturally, I don't want my precious wife to endure any discomfort, and the well-being of our little one is just as important to me."

He rested his head gently on your belly and showered your bare skin with tender kisses. His touch was so gentle, so loving, that it felt like he was worshipping you in that moment. 

You could feel his lips continue to pepper your skin with delicate kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine. The sensation was so intimate, so raw, that it made your heart swell with joy.

The soft strands of his hair felt like silk against your fingertips, and you relished the feeling of being so close to him. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

Loved.

He had always made you feel loved.

"What was that?" You asked, intrigued by the sudden message he had received in the dead of night.

"It's Shibuya," he finally said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm needed."

"What's happening in Shibuya?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I have to go. I'll let you know as soon as I can."

You felt your heart rate quicken as you sat in silence with him, unsure of what to say or do. You unconsciously began picking at your nailbeds, a nervous habit you couldn't shake off in moments of discomfort.

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, reaching for your hands and gently placing them on his cheeks. "I promise this won't take long. Let me quickly go and wake someone up so they can keep you company."

Worry.

His work always made you worried.

"It's okay. There's no need to wake anyone up. I'm just barely five months pregnant, so there's no need to worry about me giving birth or anything like that." You quickly interjected, "Just make sure to return quickly, okay?"

Although you were now the head wife of the Gojo clan, you couldn't help but feel sorry for the servants. They were always at your beck and call, attending to your every need. You knew they had other duties, but they never complained.

Gojo Satoru flashed you a warm smile and replied, "Of course!"

"Good morning, Y/N-sama," Hana, one of the personal maids appointed to attend to your needs, greeted you with a warm smile as she entered the room, carefully holding your freshly laundered robe. "Your bath is ready, with the water at the perfect temperature, and breakfast is being prepared."

The room was bathed in a gentle morning light that filtered through the curtains as you stirred.

With a tender understanding of your struggle with your growing bump, Hana gracefully approached and extended a helping hand to assist you in rising from the bed.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I think they're kicking more these days, though." You said as you stood up. "Is Satoru home yet?"

"He's not, Y/N-sama; we'll let you know if he is." 

As a frown etched itself onto your face in response to her words, you turned away and made your way towards the bathroom, dismissing her without a word. 

The sound of the door shutting behind you filled the room as you slowly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warm embrace of the bathtub.

As the water cascaded over you, your mind was filled with thoughts. Guilt gnawed at you for being able to sleep soundly while he was still not home. The weight of worry and concern settled heavily upon your shoulders.

However, as you gazed down at your hand, the sight of your wedding ring momentarily eased your troubled mind. The diamond sparkled and glistened as it caught the light, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

-

"Alright, but can you give me a second? I'll dress first. I need to go to the bathroom." he removes himself from the bed you two share.

"Okay," you replied, admiring the flexed back muscles in his bare back as he picked up his new clothes and approached the bathroom.

You slowly lifted yourself from the bed, and the cozy sheets clung to your skin. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, hoping to pass some time. As you scrolled through your notifications, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

You were surprised at how quickly Toru had finished in there. You turn your head in their direction, "That was fast, Toru-"

He approached you with a small box in his hand. Suddenly, he dropped down on one knee, and with trembling hands, he opened the box, revealing a magnificent diamond ring brighter than any jewelry he had ever given you as a present. 

The sparkle of the diamond was so intense that it caught your eye and made you gasp in amazement.

You were so taken aback that you dropped your phone, and it clattered to the ground. Your eyes widened with shock, and your hands instinctively flew to your mouth as you gazed into his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Some people might choose to do this with a fancy dinner, or on a yacht under the fireworks, or even on the highest building in the world with all the people they know," he began, his voice quivering with nervousness. "And I can do that too. I'll do that for you, too," he laughed softly,

"But, doll, (Y/N)," he paused, taking a deep breath. " I've chosen this place, right here, because waking up with you every morning is the best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life. The way you smile at me every morning and make me feel loved and wanted is a feeling unlike any other." His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"And I want to do that every day with you," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "I want to be a constant in your life, partner, friend, and your lover. I want to wake up next to you every morning, until my last breath, as your husband." Tears welled up in his eyes as he uttered the following words.

"Will you marry me?" the words left his lips, and a grin appeared your face.

-

You chuckled softly as you thought back to when Gojo Satoru proposed, feeling warmth wash over you and completely dispelling the earlier worries weighing on your mind.

You had just finished your bath and took the time to carefully select your outfit for the day, feeling refreshed and ready to start your morning. As you reached out to grab your phone and make your way out of your room, the sound of a gentle knock at the door caught your attention.

"Y/N-sama, there is a guest named Shoko waiting for you in the living room," Hana said, bowing respectfully. The unexpected news took you aback. 

"Thank you, Hana." You left the room, accidentally leaving your phone behind.

As you strolled through the grand hallway of your sprawling estate, you marveled at the beauty of your surroundings. The walls were adorned with intricate paintings, and the floors were gleaming marble.

You had always known you were lucky to live in such a magnificent place, and it still took your breath away every time you walked through it.

You caught sight of the familiar figure of the brown-haired woman who works alongside your husband. 

"Good morning," you greeted warmly as you reached her.

Your smile quickly faded as you saw Shoko's eyes filled with sadness and concern.

Unbeknownst to you, the words she spoke next would shatter your day into a million pieces.

Your husband, Gojo Satoru - was sealed.

In the wake of your husband's sealing and the news of his banishment, you were engulfed by a profound sense of sorrow, leading to an almost three-week seclusion within the confines of your room.

The community he had always protected concluded that he was an accomplice.

The disbelief is overwhelming. It's impossible to fathom. Witnessing firsthand the deep affection he held for those children—his students—it was a sight to behold.

As you slowly unfurled from your curled-up position, every muscle protested against the movement, making it feel like a strenuous effort. Exhaustion bore heavily on your shoulders as you mustered the strength to sit upright.

Weary and bleary-eyed, you rubbed your eyes futilely to dispel the heavy shroud of drowsiness that had enveloped you.

You suddenly became aware of the passing of time. The days had melded into one another, and you were completely lost.

The servants still ensured your well-being, paying extra attention to your nutritional needs. They would bring you warm soups, fresh fruits, and vegetables and encourage you to eat even when you didn't feel like it. They were always there to offer a kind word or a gentle touch, reminding you that you were not alone. 

In Satoru's absence, you were the head of the clan, the next one your unborn child. You had never felt more responsible or scared in your life.

Has he carried this responsibility since he was a child?

In his everyday life?

Rising from your seat, you made your way to the full-length mirror in your room, yearning for a glimpse of your own reflection. However, the sight that met your eyes only deepened your sorrow.

Your complexion appeared pallid, drained of its usual vitality, and dark circles underscored your eyes, accentuating the weariness you felt.

Your hair was in disarray, with strands sticking out in every direction and tangled messily. You seemed to have little concern for your appearance, and your heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces.

Everything had been unremarkably normal, and now there was a possibility of never seeing him again.

With a deep, shaky breath, you gently brushed your hair to get up today. The brush's soft bristles glided through your hair, untangling any knots with ease. 

Just as you were about to finish, the creaking open door interrupted your peaceful moment. It seemed that the servants of your estate had developed the habit of entering your chambers more frequently as if to ensure your safety.

"Hana, I'm about to head out - "

The room was filled with palpable tension as the sound of the brush hitting the floor echoed through the air, causing an abrupt hush to descend. In that fleeting moment, your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself locking eyes with Gojo Satoru.

"Toru?" Tears filled your eyes, shimmering with unshed emotion as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Your hands trembled as you instinctively sought to shield the swell of your stomach, your grip tightening around the precious source of strength that had sustained you through it all.

As he takes deliberate steps forward, his intense, piercing blue eyes sweep over you, lingering on every detail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's as if he fears that any contact with him could cause you to fade away.

"I came home as soon as I could," he whispered, his voice barely audible. For the first time in your life, you witnessed tears streaming down his cheeks.

His eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were filled with sorrow and regret. "I'm sorry for leaving you two all alone," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

You melted into his embrace, feeling a rush of emotion flood you. Your body trembled with sobs as you buried your face against his chest, finding it difficult to articulate the depth of your feelings.

Holding him tightly, you couldn't help but observe his changes – the maturation of his physique and the palpable strength of his developed muscles as he enveloped you in his arms.

Home. 

Being in his arms is home. 

The obstetrician greeted you warmly and said, "I'm going to apply a little cold gel," as they carefully positioned the small transducer on your 6-month-pregnant belly. "Let's see if we can coax the baby out—it looks like they're being a bit shy and hiding."

The dimly lit room was filled with nervous excitement as the doctor continued maneuvering the wand over your belly. Then, suddenly, the ultrasound screen flickered to life, and the image of your little one came into view. 

"They might be doing some jujutsu moves inside, honey," your husband, Gojo Satoru, whispered into your ear, a sly smirk on his lips. His eyes were fixed on the screen, hands warmly holding your right one, and when the baby moved, you noticed his mouth slightly open in awe. 

You turned your head to the screen and marveled at the sight of your tiny, wiggling miracle. 

The tiny arms, legs, fingers, and toes all move in unison. The doctor continued to point out different features, explaining each detail as you watched in amazement.

"Congratulations, you are having a boy."

It's been a few days since your husband finally returned home after what seemed like an eternity. Despite the chaos, your husband has created a peaceful haven for the two of you.

The nursery is a testament to his dedication and attention to detail. The walls are painted a soft, soothing shade of blue, and the shelves are filled with books and toys that he carefully selected for your little one.

The crib is draped in a delicate canopy, and the bedding is soft and cozy. Everything regarding your soon-to-be-bearing has already been taken care of. 

It's as if he's on a mission to show his love and dedication to you and your soon-to-arrive child with meaningful actions every single day.

Every minute detail had been thought through and prepared with utmost care. Each day, he devoted himself to ensuring your well-being, starting with a gentle morning bath and ending with a soothing back massage that would lull you to sleep in the comfort of his loving embrace.

In the beginning, it caused a sense of unease. It felt like he was preparing to depart in the near future. However, your husband took the time to console you and assure you that his intention was merely to spare you any distress during the final months of your pregnancy in case he were to sustain an injury.

You were informed about his fight on December 24th. Despite your disagreement and your persistent refusal to support him, he assured you that he would win.

You believe. 

You have always believed him. 

The sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you settled in for the evening, seeking rest after a day filled with activity.

Satoru's lips met yours, and you felt a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. His kisses were always so gentle and tender, yet so passionate at the same time. You kissed him back, savoring his lips' taste and his breath's warmth.

His tongue pushed against your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly obliged.

Your heart raced as you felt his lips move down to your neck, planting kisses and leaving behind small, purple bruises. "I'm sorry," he slurred, muffled words against your skin. "I need you."

Now wide awake, you watched as he slowly tugged the duvet covers over your naked body, his lips trailing down to your chest. 

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, his delicate licks making it harden. His other hand teased and tweaked the other nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Relax, my wife," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to take care of you."

He continued to suck on your sensitive nipples, twirling his tongue around them and moaning softly. His cock grew hard as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled, his lips touching your stomach. His long fingers caressed your womanhood, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He positioned himself between your thighs, using his thumb to part your cunt and expose your clit. "Can I taste you, Y/N?"

"Yy-yes." You moaned as he began to lick and suck on your clit, his tongue moving in circles and causing waves of pleasure to wash over you. Your hands gripped the sheets as he continued to pleasure you, his fingers slipping inside you and making you writhe with pleasure. 

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth. He was licking every drop.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then you were tumbling over it, your body convulsing with pleasure as Satoru continued to pleasure you with his mouth and hands.

"Mm, Satoru," as his skilled tongue continued to explore every inch of you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your eyes were wide open, taking in every sensation as he delved deeper. His tongue continued lapping at your most sensitive areas, sending electrifying pulses of pleasure throughout your body.

As if that wasn't enough, his fingers began to apply gentle pressure, adding to the intensity. You felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably as the pleasure built inside you. "Tastes so sweet."

You could feel yourself getting close to the brink of orgasm. Your breath quickened, and your cries became louder with each passing second. You knew you were on the verge of release, and he seemed to sense it, too.

"I'm close," With one final push, he pressed harder, driving you over and into a world of pure pleasure. As you exploded in ecstasy, your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and you cried out in delight.

Satoru continued to lavish and clean you, his tongue working tirelessly to taste your release. "So fcking sweet,"

Panting and gasping for breath, you feel him move his body on top of yours, his lips pressing against yours as he positions himself at your entrance. 

You can feel your heart racing as your body responds to his touch. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, and feel his body shudder with pleasure. 

He carefully lifts your legs, making sure not to put too much pressure on your bump, and places them around his waist, slowly sinking his length inside you.

"My sweet wife," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky. "So warm." He moved in and out of you, his grunts and moans filling the air as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body. 

"You feel so good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust harder and faster.

"Mm-more, Satoru," You arch your back and push your hips up to meet his, feeling his length still sliding in and out of you with increasing speed.

He responded by picking up the pace, repositioning himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, and giving kisses to your face and neck as he continued to rail you, his movements becoming more urgent but careful.

"I'm going to come, doll." he cursed, his hands gripping your body tightly as he felt his orgasm building.

You could feel his length pulsing inside you, his release painting your walls white as he continued to move, putting back his spilled seed with each thrust, making you gasp as you feel your second orgasm.

Basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, your husband excused himself to the bathroom. You heard running water and assumed he was cleaning himself up. A few moments later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth.

You watched as he approached you, eyes full of love and tenderness. His touch was gentle as he used the cloth to remove any remnants. 

He took his time, cleaning every inch of your body with utmost care.

He wiped away the last trace of sweat from your skin and looked up at you with a soft smile. "I love you so much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"Please remember what I'm about to tell you," Gojo Satoru's voice resonated with unwavering determination as he imparted his instructions. "Don't make yourself watch. It will only burden you needlessly. I'll be back home before you know it."

His slender, ethereal hands tenderly cradled your tear-streaked face, gently brushing away the traces of your distress. You found ease in his embrace, unable to contain your sobs, fully aware that nothing could deter him from his path.

"After this, I promise I will retire," he said with a shaky chuckle, his voice tinged with emotion. The sight of you shaking was overwhelming, and the thought of you crying scared him more than his upcoming battle with Sukuna.

"We can move anywhere you want, and we'll be together every day with our son," he reassured you as he enveloped you in a warm, comforting hug, soothing you with gentle strokes of your hair. He shifted closer, nuzzling into your hair and holding you tightly.

"I'll always be by your side," he whispered softly, his words etching on your mind. "Forever."

If you knew this would be your final conversation with him, you would have desperately grasped at any words or actions to keep him from leaving.

You stride in your well-worn white running shoes, and the rhythmic thud of each footfall echoes through the empty corridors, creating a symphony of sound that fills the space around you.

He never liked your heels. 

He never liked how discomforting it is for your feet. 

Your tears are flowing down your cheeks, and there's a lump in your throat that hasn't left ever since you heard the news. Your breathing is rapid, shallow, and filled with fear.

Your breath. 

You no longer want to take.

The world around you was shrouded in unfamiliarity; the edges of your vision blurred as you moved forward. Despite the disorientation, your body seemed to be operating on autopilot, effortlessly navigating through the haze as if driven by an unseen force.

Every step you took felt heavy, like some instinctual knowledge guided you through this place.

He clings to you. 

As much as he can. 

"Y/N," Shoko Ieiri's voice sounded from the background. Her face was solemn as she gazed back at you with a serious expression.

"I can go with her; please follow me, Y/N-san." Ijichi, the person who had come to fetch you from the confines of your home, whispered beside you. He walked past, and you felt your feet involuntarily follow him, afraid he would disappear.

The woman with brown hair gazed down at your swollen, pregnant belly, and the sight was so overwhelming that she nearly lost her balance.

You brushed past her, paying no mind to her or anyone else - the curious stares of the students as you made your way through the corridors of Jujutsu High.

Your fists were tightly clenched at your sides as you followed the man in the suit, your thoughts consumed by only one person. 

Gojo Satoru. 

Ijichi paused before a shining silver door, the light catching its reflective surface. He turned towards you, a grave expression on his face. "We've arrived," he said, his voice tinged with regret as he bowed deeply. "I apologize."

You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, "I want to be alone with him, please." You couldn't bear the thought of anyone else witnessing this moment of raw vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, except for the machines' soft hum and lightning. 

You could see him lying there, his form still and peaceful beneath the pristine white sheet. The fabric was smooth and unblemished, without a wrinkle to mar its surface.

"My baby," you whispered, your voice breaking as you approached his body. You reached out tentatively, afraid that the slightest touch would disrupt the peaceful tableau before you. But you felt sadness and longing as your fingers brushed against his skin. "My sweet baby," you cried, pulling him close to your chest. "How can I go on without you?"

"Please don't leave me." Tears streamed down your face as you grieved for your husband, desperately yearning to hear his voice or feel his comforting, warm hug when he sensed your sadness once more. "Please come back."

But there was no response, no flicker of movement or sound. Your husband was gone, and all that remained was the shell of his body.

Amid your suffering, you felt a sudden kick from within your stomach.

It seems that your son may have felt your tears, weeping about his father, whom he will never have the chance to meet.

"Mommy?" Rapid footsteps echoed through the hallway as your 5-year-old son dashed across the wooden floor, his little voice filled with urgency.

"Tohru, no running!" You called out, pausing from chopping the carrots as you felt a tinge of concern at the tone of his voice. "Hana, could you please continue chopping these carrots for me?" 

Hana smiled warmly and nodded in agreement, gracefully taking over the task. Her skilled hands moved with precision as she seamlessly continued the work you had started.

While going from the kitchen to the living room, your son's voice fills the air, creating a comforting and familiar ambiance. Your gaze was drawn to a large wedding photograph that halted your steps, capturing your attention with its timeless beauty and significance.

 In the picture, a white-haired man beamed with joy as he gazed at his wife, their expressions capturing a depth of love that seemed to transcend everything else.

The way they looked at each other spoke volumes about their enduring bond and connection, leaving a lasting impression on anyone who beheld the photograph.

It was your favorite picture. 

It still made your heart stop. 

"Mommy," Your son ran up to you and wrapped his little arms around your legs, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm. You knelt down to his height, pinching his chubby cheeks and feeling the warmth of his embrace. His bright blue eyes shone with curiosity and innocence.

"Sakura told me her father loved her so much. Like as big as a tree!" he exclaimed, gesturing widely to emphasize the enormity of his friend's father's love. "How about us? How much did Daddy love us?"

You tenderly swept aside his silky, snow-white hair, cherishing this special moment with your son. A gentle smile lit up your face as you wholeheartedly responded to his question without any hesitation.

"His love for us was bigger than the whole sky."

author's note: I never knew a fictional character would have this impact on my life. gojo satoru, no matter what they say, was my favourite. whatever hopes I had for gege's redemption on his writing is now officially gone; I am dropping jjk. I don't even want to watch the anime anymore. I just got up today to write my own version of his passing, with canon-divergence.

he will forever have a place in my heart. my baby deserves so much better. :(

[januaryembrs]

JUST A THEORY | Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: congratulations on 2k!!! you deserve that and so much more your writing is incredible! 🥳🥳🥳 if I could jump in with a request could I ask for a Spencer x reader fic where the reader is a journalist/reporter looking into a case as well and they cross paths? I think the tension and bickering would be so fun

Description: There's something about that agent Jennifer brought along with her that pushes every single one of your buttons

Length: 1.6k

warnings: general cm violence, probably not em's best work

“You know this could be considered obstructing a federal investigation,” Spencer huffed, trying to look over your shoulder where you skimmed the book in your hands with meticulous eyes. You ignored him, continuing to read the information despite feeling his burning glare in the back of your head, his breath on your neck as he shadowed your figure around the building. 

“You know the best part about a public library, Doctor Reid? It’s public,” You drawled back, your eyes never ripping from the page except to make a few notes of some key information for your article, “Which means I have every right to be in here just as much as you do,”

You heard him run a hand over his face and tried not to smirk at how easy he was to agitate. You’d heard a lot about the BAU, almost every criminology based paper in Virginia had, and so it wasn’t too surprising to meet the brains behind the reputation when three women had been murdered in the FBI’s home town. Every press association that was worth their money was all over the story, ‘How could this have happened so close to the capital in a city crawling with agents?’, which made your job just that bit more competitive and taxing. 

Yet luckily for you, you knew exactly where to go snooping for answers. It just so happened, the BAU’s resident genius did too.

“I guarantee it would be easier for both of us if you just give me the book first. I can read ten times faster than you,” He snipped, still a pup at your heels where you wandered through the aisles of non-fiction, the white lettering hanging above the shelves spelling PSYCHOLOGY. You rolled your eyes at his persistence, ignoring his attitude as you rounded the corner at the end of the row and looped back to where you’d picked up the book, the man still over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’re not supposed to talk in libraries?” You hissed back, flicking the page over and hearing his footsteps move in tandem with your own, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” 

You hid a grin, hearing him pause at that, remembering the first day you’d been assigned the story. 

It started only a week ago. The newest victim had been found in the woods, stabbed seven times the same as the other two, her entire body washed in strong bleach, her hair and nails trimmed and ears even swabbed clean. You’d managed to get five minutes to sit with her parents, your pen and trusted notebook at the ready. 

“Why don’t you tell me about what Clara was like as a kid?” You said softly, eyes comforting and calm as you spoke over coffee that was quickly going cold. But you didn’t care. 

You didn’t do this part for ‘the story’. At least not the end of the story, the gory bits and pieces that the other news anchors focused on, how the women were brutalised and beaten, changed by a murderer until they looked unrecognisable. You didn’t like to focus on that, because that wasn’t who the victims were. 

You wanted to tell their story. Who they were before something awful happened to them. 

“She loved to dance,” Clara’s mother, Gwen, sniffled, her cheeks sodden with salted tears. Her voice quivered, croaked like it begged not to be used, but the saddest smile spread on her face when she said it, her husband’s hands clasped tightly in her own, “She used to ask to wear her leotard to bed; we couldn't get that thing off her,” 

You smiled, eyes falling to the pictures the parents had spread across the table in their haste to find the best one for the missing posters. Gwen seemed to follow your eyeline and grabbed one in particular, handing it over to you, gently thumbing the edges like that too might disappear. A little girl, black hair as silken as fresh ink stared back at you, her hands poised delicately above her head like the professional ballerina’s you'd seen on TV, her feet laced into pink pumps. The way she should be remembered, not the images you’d seen of her at the crime scene. 

You opened your mouth to speak again when two agents entered the room. Jennifer Jareau, who you’d worked with on multiple stories like this one to give the families the empathy they deserved, smiled at you civilly, somewhat guilty knowing she was stepping on your toes. Beside her stood a taller man in a matching FBI jacket, his hazelnut curls falling over his frown. 

“Mr and Mrs Townsen,” He addressed the couple solemnly, who looked up at him through red rimmed eyes, their sockets sallow and empty, “We need to ask you a few questions about the last few days you saw Clara before she went missing,”

He flashed his credentials in his right hand, long enough for them to see it was real, and looked to you with a stern stare. 

The couple glanced back to you, the picture still grasped tightly in your fingers, as you flicked a tight look between Jennifer and the new agent carefully. 

“Just one moment,” You told the grieving parents softly, handing the picture back to Gwen, standing to move to one side with the analysts, immediately turning towards Jennifer with confusion, “I thought you said I had until twelve?”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” The liaison said cordially, the two of you somewhat acquaintances after emailing back and forth for so long. She liked that you didn’t see the bodies as dollar signs, and you liked that she wanted the same as you; to tell the victims stories the way they should be told. 

Sighing, you wrapped up your notepad, delicately pushing the pen through the wire spine. “Can I get an interview with the second family at least? Daily Press was all over that story, and they made an absolute joke of it,” 

“That’s a little hypocritical of you,” The other agent piped up, and your head snapped to him. Eyes roving over his figure, brows furrowing when you realised what he’d said. You looked back to his face in annoyance. 

“Excuse me?” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest, your notepad brushing against your ribs. 

“I’m just saying, you all get paid for what you write, so it's just as exploitive to write about the victims than it is to write about the crimes,” He shrugged, eyes narrowing when you shifted your weight onto your other foot and raised a brow at him. 

“Unlike you,” Your gaze fell to his badge he still had to hand, “Doctor Reid, I see those women as real people, not just little pictures on a white board. They’re not just dead girls to me, and they’re certainly not just money grabs,” 

Spencer went to retaliate again before JJ put a hand on both your elbows, drawing the attention away from your little spat. 

“We can talk about this later, right now we have an UnSub on the loose that is quickly devolving,” She chided the two of you like you were school children, and you sighed, biting your cheek to stop yourself from snapping back at the man. 

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, well aware of the grieving parents sitting little more than a few yards from where you stood bickering. 

“It means you’re going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” Spencer cleared, pushing past your shoulder as he went to sit with the Townsens, his eyes swirling into something new and kind and reassuring as he looked at them, a Jekyll and Hyde to the hostility he had towards you. 

You could only suck your teeth in annoyance, before Jennifer pulled you further into the dining room to discuss rearrangements. 

Spencer blanked as he watched you skim reading the textbook, his own words thrown back in his face in an infuriatingly clever move on your part. With little more to say, knowing wit and barking orders would get him nowhere because he couldn’t exactly arrest you for not giving him public property, he resorted to begging.

“Please, give me the book,” He said, the desperation buried in his sigh, and you swivelled on your heels, a devilish grin on your face that had him fighting back an eye roll. 

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m finished,” You said, handing him the files you were reading, passing them over to him with a smirk and he found himself almost smiling at your sarcasm.

Taking the book out of your hand, he debated saying thank you, but instead bit his lip because he'd found you were somewhat incorrigible when you were getting deeper in a story. 

Turning on his heels to check out the book so he could take it back to headquarters, he stopped when you spoke, just a few decibels louder than the ‘Talk Quietly’ sign demanded. 

“Agalmatophilia,” You murmured, and he whipped a look over his shoulders where you were skimming the shelves for a second textbook, seeing as your first one had been commandeered, “The sexual attraction to dolls and mannequins. I know you guys speculated he has some form of OCD but I think it's Agalmatophilia,” You said, drawing a book off the shelf without really looking up to where his brow furrowed in familiarity with the word. He glanced at you then, and you flicked open the page of contents, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your head, muttering under your breath absent-mindedly, “Just a theory,” 

You’d shut him up the entire way back to headquarters. 

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— mission: chaos fc

↪ muchly requested second part to the previous chapter. I had so much fun writing the first bit, so why not give you guys a second part?

ps. there'll be more parts to this... its' not over yet!

Lets' go with chaos fc!

Thank you thank you thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me with the different ideas and code names, so much to write the mayhem!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader

summary: just 2 best friends being pests together, and enlisting the help of the young guns to help them out

"Yoo-hoo," You call out as you open the door to Kyra's hotel room and walk in, plonking yourself down on her bed as you end up hearing the tail-end conversation of her phone call with Viv.

Ultimately, you know you should try and stay out of trouble. After all, that's what you promised Leah, and you really should keep your promise.

However, you're a known troublemaker and well, wherever you go, trouble tends to follow.

It's only a matter of time...

"Yikes, Vivi sounds mad with you," You can't help but joke and whistle lowly, moving back to relax on the Australians' girls bed with your arms propped up on the pillows. "How bad was it?" You question, curiously.

"She lectured me for what felt like forever," Kyra huffs in protest and slumps back down onto her bed, "It's bad enough I already had an earful from Steph and Caitlin!" She whines.

You wince a bit as you feel bad for her having to deal with that, "Well, if it makes you feel any better I had to deal with a right telling off from Leah and you know she can be scary as hell sometimes," You mumble, shuddering slightly, "And shes' even threatened to ban me eating sweets for a month if she finds out I've got in any more trouble. Oh and there was talk about a leash as well,"

"Right, so no more pranks then?" Kyra slumps her shoulders down in realisation.

"Well, Kimmys' definitely gonna be keeping a closer on us now," You remark, knowing that your Captain will have a watchful eye on you both.

The older Australian nods in agreement, "Yeah, and Steph and Catilin as well probably," She notes.

"Yeah-- I know!" An idea pops into your head as you bolt up from where you're lounging about on her bed, "We'll come up with code names! That way, we can lay low and cause trouble and none of the girls will have a clue that we're talkin' about them!" You personally think the idea's great and you know full well it'll help in your cause to be choatic still.

"That's geinus!" Kyra exclaims, impressed with your ability to think quickly about it.

"Well, you know, I can be pretty smart at times," You remark, jokely pretending to flick your hair back. "Right, we'll be known as... Eagle 1 and Eagle 2," You declare.

"Eagle?" Kyra furrows her eyebrow, confused by where you'd gotten that idea from.

"Uh huh," You nod in agreement with the older girl. "Kimmy will be Tiny, because well, its' kinda self explanatory," You tell her.

Kyra snickers at you making fun of your Captains' height, "Okay. What about Steph and Caitlin?" She questions.

"Caitlin will be known as Veggie, because of Vegemite and Steph will be known as Floof," You begin to reel of the different names, "Alessia will be known as uh, butterfingers!"

"Because of how clumsy she always is?" Kyra smirks at your imaginative nickname for the blonde striker and you nod in agreement, "Alright, what about Katie?" She wonders.

"Leprechaun, because there little shits like she is-- I mean, we're like that too, but shes' Irish as well so it fits better!" You explain your thought process, shrugging your shoulders, "Emily will be known as Fox, like the animal," You state.

"Simple but effective," Kyra remarks, keeping track of the different code names you're coming up with, "Cloe and Frida?"

You tap your finger against your cheek, "Hm, Laces and Magnum, Cloe's last name is hard to pronounce and Magnums' close to Manuum," You delclare, finding the situation amusing to no end, "Oooh. Teyah will be prodigcy, because you know, that's what Katie keeps referring to her as, and Katherine will be umm, Kool-Aid, like the drink!"

"Kool-Aid?" Kyra smirks in amusement as you just confirm your idea with a stuble nod of your head, "Oh, what about Vic?"

"Pancake," You answer without a single thought, "Cos' shes' Dutch and there's a thing called Dutch pancakes-- Oooh, I really want one of them right now!" You stare into space, thinking about them and all you want is one right now.

"Y/N focus," Kyra snaps her fingers in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

You jolt and shake your head suddenly, "Huh-- What... What're we talkin' about again?" You wonder, getting lost in your thoughts about desert already.

"Code names," Kyra reminds you as she laughs, "We still need to figure out the ones' for the rest of them. "What about Sarah and Jonas?" She adds.

"Sarah will be baguette, because shes' french... and Jonas will be Thanos," You're very adamant about the latter, "Because hes' a villian," You hadn't taken the news of Vivs' depature from the club exactly too well and you low-key would like to fight him at some point.

"Still mad about it, huh?" Kyra winces, remembering your reaction to Viv leaving the club wasn't that great.

"Don't want to talk about it. It still hurts," Alongside Katie being the head of the Vivianne Miedema fan club, you were a close second. You were devestated when she played the game in a Arsenal shirt for the last time.

"Pst, Kyra," You whisper and lean over your seat to not to gently nudge the girl to get her attention without being caught out by Kim or the rest of the 'responsible' older girls.

You're currently on the coach on the way to Marvel stadium ahead of the open training session where the fans would have the opportunity to watch you train ahead of the game against the all stars team.

Ever since the phone conversation with Leah, you had definitely been under closer watch and the threats that the blonde made were still fresh in your head as a reminder, and you'll be damned if you miss out on eating sweet treats, best behaviour or not.

But nobody ever said it was fun to always be good and you definitely weren't.

"Yeah?" The older girl turns her head to look at you.

"I have an idea of who can be the next victim of our prank," You give her a coy smile as you nudge your head slightly, "I say we mess with Laces," You gesture to the older girl whos' happily minding her own business.

Kyra smirks at your decision, "What've you got in mind?" She wonders.

You can't help but grin as you lean over the seat and cover your hand over your mouth to whisper to her, "We can sneak into the locker rom ahead of the rest of them. We'll hide the shin pads," You whisper quietly into her ear.

"Perfect," Kyra grins in agreement with your idea to cause chaos once again.

"What're you pair whispering about?" Kim eyes' the two of you suspiciously, hesistant to have even allowed you to both sit near each other.

"Nothing!" Your both quick to respond, acting completley innocent in the situation at hand.

"Mhm, make sure it stays that way!" Kim is less reluctant to simply let that answer slide so she keeps a more thorough check on you.

When the coach pulls up at the stadium, your quick to try and make a break for it, but your Captain doesn't seem to think the same idea, "Not so fast. I want you where I can keep an eye on you," She states, knowingly.

"Kimmmm, seriously?" You whine in protest, but the tight grip that she has on your upper bicep makes it difficult for you to break free like youn want to do.

"Come on," Kim pulls you in the direction of the press conference that shes' got with Jonas and Steph, forcing you to sit on the side where she can keep an eye on you still, "Stay there, don't move," She warns, patting your head ever so pratronisingly before she heads off to join them on the stage.

You can't say you were too fond of being forced to sit there and listen to the journalists ask questions, especially when Steph was poking fun at you directly for your bad habits of wandering off and getting into trouble. 

"This is boring," You mutter to yourself and slump down in the chair, while you kick your legs back and forth in annoyance at the situation you've found yourself in.

How long would it take for Kim to realise you'd got up and left?

Only one way to find out, you guess.

"Y/N!" Your names' barked loudly, causing you to freeze in your spot before you slowly spin around and try flash her an innocent smile, "Sit down!"

"Aw shucks," You mutter and flop back down in the seat, trying to ignore the stern look that Kims' giving you while laughter breaks out in the room from everyone else.

"Only our Y/N," Steph chimes in, amusedly.

You realise you're stuck now and you need to resort to desperate measures to ensure that the chaos still happens.

"Young Guns, your time has come!" You think to yourself as you pull your phone out of your pocket to enlist the help of the girls in the academy.

Y/N created the group: mission chaos fc 💥💣💀

y/n added kyra, mini viv and & mini katie & 4 others to the chat

y/n changed kyra's name to eagle 2 🦅🦅 y/n changed freya's name to godfather 😎 y/n changed maddie's' name to baddie 😅 y/n changed vivs' name to winger 🪽 y/n changed laila's name to ernie 🤪 y/n changed naomi's name to diver 🤿 y/n changed katie's name spencer 👀 y/n changed your name to eagle 1 🦅

eagle 1 🦅: young guns. i need your help! godfather 😎: uh... what's this? baddie 😅: why is my name baddie? winger 🪽: what's going on, y/n? ernie 🤪: i'm so lost. godfather 😎: heh, i actually kinda like mine... 😊 baddie 😅: speak for yourself 🙄 spencer 👀: why is my name spencer?👀 eagle 1 🦅: FOCUS YOUNG GUNS, I'M DEPENDING ON YOU!🫵🏼 diver 🤿: umm okay, i'm confused. ernie 🤪: yeah, your not the only one...🫠 winger 🪽: should i get one of the girls to come help you? spencer 👀: i think we should eagle 1 🦅: noooooooo! ⛔⛔⛔⛔ DO NOT GET ANY OF THE OLDER GIRLS!🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️ i've been kidnapped, this is the plan... spencer 👀: if you've been kidnapped then we definitely need to tell someone! eagle 1 🦅: nooooo its' fine i'm stuck with mother kimmy and she won't let me out of her sight for the forseeable! i'm enlisting your help to join in on mission chaos fc, your time has come! diver 🤿: we should be concerned, right? godfather 😎: yeah, yeah... i think so eagle 1 🦅: your mission whether you choose to accept is up to you. the challenge is simple, i need you to go and hide laces shin pads. don't ask questions tho. do you wish to accept your mission? baddie 😅: whos' laces? 😕 eagle 1 🦅: I SAID NO QUESTIONS ooh right yeah, i realise now... uh its' cloe lacasse, baddie 😅: i'm down! diver 🤿: sure, why not spencer 👀: seems a bit risky... i don't know winger 🪽: we'll help you, eagle 1 🫡 eagle 2 🦅🦅 has entered the chat... eagle 2 🦅🦅 : y/n where are you? i can't find you-- have you been taken to the dark side? eagle 1 🦅: code names, eagle 2... i've been kidnapped by mother kimmy, the young guns' are now enlisted to help you out. i've got to go, my captivator is heading this way. good luck, live long and propser! 🫡 baddie 😅 : we won't let you down, eagle 1! eagle 2 🦅🦅: so long, partner... 🥲

© scribblesofagoonerr

[darkbluekies]

(Husband) Dr Kry & Hedwig drabbles: summer day activities

Yandere!doctor & yandere!richgirl

Warnings: none, this is probably as fluffy as you can come

Dr Kry:

For once, you are allowed out of the white edwardian villa and allowed to take a walk among society. Dr Kry is wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of sand colored shorts. His blonde hair is brushed back and over his eyes are a pair of sunglasses. Summer brings out a more laid back version of him.

"Hey, hey, come here", he says as you start to walk away from the car. "You need sunscreen."

He helps cover your face with it. He's careful with his fingers, making sure not to poke you in the eye.

He holds your hand as you start to walk. You walk through greenery, past wooden houses in red and white, and by harbors with sailboats. It seems like all of Sweden population is out at the same time because you pass by more people than you have seen in years. Everyone else wants to enjoy the sunshine. Dr Kry doesn't greet anyone as they walk pass, and neither do them. He gives them a small, awkward smile and moves you closer in case you're about to walk into to someone.

"Karl, can we buy ice cream?" you ask as you walk by a kiosk.

"Sure, what flavor do you want?" he asks and takes out his wallet from his pocket.

"Mango", you say excitedly. "I haven't tried that before."

Dr Kry orders from the woman behind the counter.

"You should take some too", you say. "Don't pick the coffee one, you always take that one."

He sighs and looks at the different flavors.

"And a salted licorice for me, thank you", he says.

"Come on ...", you mutter.

"Don't knock it til you try it", Dr Kry smiles over his shoulder.

He pays and thanks the woman behind the counter. He gives you your paper cup and a small plastic spoon. The mango ice cream is refreshing, reminding you of sorbet. You get to try ice cream from Dr Kry’s spoon and you cough at the salty taste. Dr Kry chuckles and takes a bite.

You take lunch at an old café. Kry picks up his phone and snaps a picture of you that he immediately puts as his lockscreen.

"Can we please do this again?"

Hedwig:

Her pool is the perfect temperature. The two of you are planning to spend the entire day out by the pool. Hedwig have bought a new pink bikini that's she had forced you to help find. It took her three hours to decide on one.

"I'm thirsty", you say and sit up on your sun chair. "Would be nice to have something to drink."

"Trudy!" she shouts.

A small, older lady comes out through the doors.

"Yes, miss Hedwig?" she asks.

"Couls you please bring us something to drink?" Hedwig wonders. "And please make sure there are lots of ice!"

The woman nods and walks back inside. You sit down on Hedwig’s chair, eventually laying down. She guides your head to her bare stomach where you rest your cheek on her burning skin. She plays with your wet hair.

"We're going out with the sailboat in two weeks", she says. "We're going to sail around the Mediterranean. I want you to come. It won't be fun without you."

Her "sailboat" could very well be a small yacht.

"I don't know", you mumble.

Her father scares the living hell out of you.

"Oh, come on, you have to!" she whines. "I won't go without you. It'll be fun. We will visit all sorts if places. You have to come."

Trudy returns with two glasses of lemonade and ridiculously many ice cubes. The two of you thank her and start to gulp it down.

"Y/N get up, let's swim", Hedwig says and taps your shoulder.

She brings out a floating ring and tries to climb into it. You push her into the pool, hearing her scream cut off.

"Fuck you, Y/N!" she coughs and hurries to swim to the ladder. "You have to let me push you in now-"

"No, no-" you try, but she grabs your arms with an evil giggle.

"In you go!"

You're pushed into the water and hear her laugh. Hedwig jumps in afterwards and hugs you under water, smiling widely. She kisses you quickly before diving.

[bambi-slxt]

cockwarming chris:

✨a concept✨

"you need it?"

"yeah..."

"come here then," he says, his voice low and deep. "come sit on my cock."

you almost scrambled to his lap, but chris put a hand on your shoulder.

you whined in desperation.

his lips twitched into a grin for a half second. "behave. i'll give you everything you want if you just be good, yeah?"

you nodded, quickly and with abandon.

"be good for me, uh huh?"

"i will. i promise."

he smiled. "that's my girl. come here."

chris took hold of your thigh, moving it over his lap and settling it on his side, your body straddling his.

"go on," he whispered. "show me what you want."

your hands fumbled with the elastic hem of his shorts, tugging them just below the hardening bulge of his cock. encasing it in your hand with a whimper, you began to pump him up and down, up and down...

chris's lips parted with a pleasured sigh as his eyes closed and his feathery lashes fanned his cheeks. "sit on me, sweet girl," he groaned, "please."

you needed no further direction. shifting your weight to your knees and positioning your slick cunt above his cock. chris's tip twitched and hit your clit, eliciting a groan from deep within your stomach. his precum-leaking slit pressed against your entrance, and as you sank down worshipfully around him, chris lifted a gentle knuckle to your chin. "look at me."

you gasped, your stomach full of him, your back held secure by his other, unoccupied hand, your bottom lip pulled into a pout by his thumb, your eyes held in an unforgiving, electric blue gaze.

"you feel so good on top of me, pretty girl," chris said softly. "so good."

"th-thank you," you stuttered out.

"too much?"

"n-no."

he chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. "there she is. my pretty girl."

"mhm," you moaned, unable to look at him any longer. your head dropped to his shoulder and your hands wrapped themselves around his shoulder blades, your pussy spritzing with pleasure as you felt his heart beat through his cock.

"i know," he murmured, carding his fingers through your hair. "i know. i'm here. i got you."

"n-needed-fuck-needed you so-so bad," you whimpered.

"just wanted to be filled up, huh?"

"yeah," you said with a pout.

"you missed me today, didn't you. couldn't stop thinking about this."

you tightened your grip on his skin in response.

"just wanna be a good girl for me, makin' me feel good...wanna be stuffed full of me."

chris kissed the top of your head as he stroked your hair. "you're the best girl ever. my pretty little girlie."

"yeah?" you cried softly, your voice high and quiet.

"of course, mamas," he replied. "of course you are. you're so good to me." chris's arms flexed around you, holding you close to him. your puffy clit brushed against the soft, warm skin above his cock. you whined into his neck. "i know," he purred. "i know. it's a lot, huh?"

"yeah...i like it though."

"yeah? you like keeping my dick warm?"

you couldn't help but giggle. "yes."

you felt chris smile against your temple. "you're so silly."

"i love you," you whispered, kissing the veins hidden beneath his skin. "i love you a lot."

"i love you," he grumbled, "tons more than you love me, actually."

"who's dick riding who, exactly?" your sass was cut off by the sudden, snapped thrust of his hips into yours. a broken gasp stumbled from your lips as your already-leaking pussy began to cry onto his pelvis.

"something wrong, ma?" his eyes glittered with mischief.

"you're a dick," you said matter-of-factly, utterly unsurprised but incredibly happy when he leaned forward, laying your back against the bed as his body hovered over yours, cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

"am i?" he crooned, sliding slowly out of you.

"y-yes," you panted, your walls clenching, trying desperately to keep him close to you.

his tip made your folds bulge as it slipped out.

"i h-hate you."

chris didn't reply. he only smiled, his head tilted as he lowered his cock back into you, slow but unrelenting, giving you no pause to adjust to him, drinking the view of your brows furrowing, your lips parting to make way for your breathy sighs, your pulse throbbing in your neck.

"no you don't," he said sweetly, balancing on one tensed, veiny hand as he brushed your cheek with his other. "you're addicted to me, and you know it."

you couldn't help but nod. he was right.

chris was always right.

"that's my precious girl."

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25

[shrenvents]

Guard Dog II

Part one

Warning: minors dni, fluff, smut, fingering, penetration, no protection, language

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x you

Summary: You and Daryl have started seeing each other, but not much has changed between you two. Yet, all you can think about is how much you need it to —need him to touch you, but he hasn’t made a move. Thus, you take charge.

Word count: 1.6k

…

Though it hasn't been said, flat out, you and Daryl are dating. And although nothing about your dynamic has altered, you’re still fairly certain, you're dating now.

But, the routine is just the same. You go somewhere, Daryl follows. However, nowadays you talk regularly, and he's visibly more comfortable. The others even started to notice your relationship and the changes in Daryl as well. One of which is, according to Eugene, is he seems happier, lighter, like a weight has lifted from his shoulders.

So, how is it that you feel something missing? You guessed a relationship with Daryl would be nothing less than this. But deep down, you expected him to at least touch you. And all you really wanted, was a kiss.

Sometimes, when he's close enough, you feel his warmth radiate over your very being. Sometimes, you sense his touch from when he grabbed your wrist, and held you in his arms weeks ago.

It left you craving more. Perhaps it did for him too...

Various times you swore his hand would hover over your skin, debating whether to reach out to you or not. Other times, he follows you to your house, but never steps foot inside, not since that day. He continuously stops short at your front deck, giving you a prolonged nod for a goodbye.

You’re shy in many ways, as is he, so if things were to change, you figure you have to be the one to take the reins. After all, he did admit to "wanting" you, so what did you have to lose?

…

Sighing, you open your door, squinting to welcome the blazing sun.

As of late, your mornings consist of this smouldering summer shine, and a mouthwatering, sleeveless Daryl Dixon, leaning against the pillar upholding your porch, waiting for you to wake.

"Morning!" You greet cheerfully. Daryl looks at you, and his scowl instantly softens. "I'm thinking we should do something today, together," you boast, trudging off the porch. "You know, switch up our usual routine somehow." Pausing thoughtfully, you notice how patiently Daryl observes you, waiting for your word, without any interruptions. It almost shocks you how docile he truly is, beneath that dim, tough exterior.

Your eyes explore Alexandria's landscape, catching areas with dull greenery. Your mouth opens in 'ah!'

Daryl appears disquiet and you holler, "Gardening!"

"No," he contradicts, quickly shutting down your idea. You huff, hindering a small smile. "Oh please, it would be fun!" You persuade, "This place needs more character, it's too-" desperately searching for a word, you make Daryl smirk a bit. "Colourless right now," you proclaim.

"And adding some flowers, will make this place look less like a 'dump'?" He mocks plainly.

"I don't think it's a 'dump,' it just needs some," once more, you seek the appropriate word, and Daryl expels a breathy chuckle. "Sprucing," you finish, and he nods with a tiny shake in disbelief. "Let's go!" You shout, heading to a plain field of grass.

"Yes ma'am," Daryl grumbles behind you, and you giggle.

...

The both of you spend hours outside, digging up weeds, replanting flowers, and spreading plant seeds across the lot. The whole ordeal left you both filthy, decorated in dirt. Though it's nothing new for Daryl, you feel pretty disgusting, not to mention 'hideous.'

Engrossed in your obsessive thoughts, you miss the way Daryl longingly watches you. That’s until you feel a plant stem, tuck your hair behind your ear. You spy Daryl’s calloused fingers, gently placing a pink flower there. His pinkie lightly coasts down your locks, to your shoulder.

You peer into his eyes, struck by his tenderness. His dilated pupils hold so much depth, that you get lost in them. So absentmindedly, you shift closer to Daryl. His eyes roam your face, down to your lips, focusing on them.

A short breath escapes you, heart dropping, and he stands up. Now on his feet, Daryl brushes the grime on his hands in a clap, then lends one out to you. “You’re covered in dirt,” his throat bobs, “Let’s call it a day,” he heaves you upright, “take a shower.” You nod in agreement, kind of discombobulated.

Hand in hand, you silently walk to your house. Once you get there, he retracts his palm from yours and scratches his crown awkwardly. “You’re not coming?” You mumble shyly, and his wide eyes shoot to yours.

You fight to remain calm, staring at him. He licks his lips, once again, looking at your parted ones. “Separate showers, or...?” He asks airily.

“Whatever you want,” replying in a whisper, you slowly back up your steps, intently watching him. He refuses to break eye contact as he follows you inside.

When the door clicks shut, the only audible sound is his breathing, which is more like panting.

“You sure about…?” He trails off, delicately admiring your face. When you faintly mouth a 'yes,' his eyes train to your figure. You leisurely stride towards him.

“You’re so,” before he finishes his sentence, you peck his lips. He jerks his jaw moderately, and his gaze struggles to decide, whether to look at your eyes, or your body.

“Touch me,” you practically beg, nudging his abdomen with your knuckles. His sharp breath fans your face, and his expression distorts right before he instinctively, crashes his mouth into yours. Tongues mingling together, he grunts quietly, and you hum a whine in return.

Bodies pressing hard against each other, his hands tangle into your tresses, cupping your head. He rolls his hips rather harshly and you whine louder.

Breaking away with his name on your tongue, you clutch his hand and haul him upstairs.

Reaching the top of the staircase, he hugs you from behind and buries his face into your neck, breathing in like you're his lifeline.

“Daryl,” you sigh then gasp when he suddenly lifts you up. Your toes drag on the floorboards while he sucks on your nape. “Bathroom,” he rasps.

“To your left,” you huff in response, pushing your backside atop his crotch. Daryl just about growls, hastily carrying you into the bathroom.

Putting you down nicely, he forcibly tugs the shower curtain to the side. You spin to look at him and see him surveying you, staring down at your frame like he's in heat. You bite your lip, raising a hand to push away the black hair blocking his eyes.

“May I?” He asks politely, gesturing to your clothes.

“Yes,” you nearly moan.

Together, you remove each other’s garments, one by one, piece by piece. Eyes equally wandering, to every newly revealed section of flesh. Daryl adorns your naked body and his lip tilts. You lean towards him to turn the shower knob.

The shower head roars, and Daryl tenses when the tips of your breasts graze his chest. “God,” he groans then takes your dome in his hands again, yanking your mouth upwards.

Your fronts fix together, and he palms your ass, reddening the skin there. His hard-on rubs your cunt, and he ambles you both under the flowing stream of water.

“Fuck,” you moan wildly when your spine hits the cool wall.

“Ya feel amazing,” he resounds into your ear, kissing it with a swipe of his tongue. You grind onto him. “Like that baby, again,” he instructs hoarsely, almost pained.

Moving in sync with each other, his cock continuously moves over your clit. You whine his name over and over and scratch your nails down his lower back. You moan out appraisals and smooch a trail from his chin to chest.

His hushed tone chants your name, trying to get your attention. But, when he gets tired of you ignoring him, his digits abruptly slip into you. You instantly cry out, then move in rhythm with his fingers, riding them. He begins to elicit an orgasm, so you pull away from his aggressive kiss. “Wait, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Good,” he groans with a smirk, trying to capture your mouth again.

“No, no, I wanna cum with you,” you plea, whispering, "on you," barely coherent. His fingers immediately slow and withdraw, at once, replaced by his girthy cock.

You scream a yelp and Daryl releases a lengthy, unreserved, animalistic groan. “So, tight,” his dark voice grates your ears. He cups your breast, playing with its nipple, and you sob while he mutters how badly he needs this.

After a moment of adjusting, Daryl starts thrusting. "Harder!" You express, and his hips lunge into you, untamed and vigorous.

Though his bottom half ruthlessly takes you, his hands and mouth are kind and attentive. His palms glide over your torso, holding you securely, and he kisses your features.

“Daryl, I love it,” you exclaim, then repeat yourself.

“Y-yeah?” He stammers, pinning his forehead to the side of your skull, and you grip his muscular biceps. “Yes, you’re so good.”

He growls your name, pumping even faster, evidently getting closer to his climax.

His hands move to squeeze and spread your ass, and ever-so-slightly, his finger sweeps across your unfilled hole, circling it teasingly. You squeal and huddle into him, and he murmurs something so quietly, that you can hardly hear it.

“What?” You gasp, craning your neck back.

“-fucking love you,” Daryl moans roughly, hoisting up your leg by its thigh. Pushing into you one last time, he then pulls out, cumming on your stomach.

Daryl's confession strikes such a cord, that you also cum when he removes himself. His meaty arms swiftly embrace your trembling form, snaking around your curves firmly.

After a short while, you hug him too, burying your face in his sternum. “Can you, say that again?” You ask meekly, and as if he can hear your smile, he chuckles.

“Later,” he pauses to kiss your scalp, “Lemme catch my breath first baby.”

[minswriting]

Our Little Secret - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

About: You had always been attracted to your new step father since the day your mom brought him home. He was an attractive older man. He treated your mother well, despite not being home enough. But that didn’t matter too much since your mother was rarely home either. You knew that you shouldn’t feel some sort of way about your step-father. But what happens when he comes home from a rough case and seems to want you too?

Warnings: Step-daughter/step-father dynamic, NSFW, MDNI, 18+ content, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc.

Word Count: 3200

Note: This may suck a bit but i hope you all enjoy!

Your relationship with your mother wasn’t the greatest, truthfully. Your mother left your father when you were ten years old, leaving him alone to work full time and take care of his daughter. But when he passed away when you were fifteen, about eight years ago, due to cancer, your mother had taken you in because you had nowhere else to go. While she wasn’t abusive, the two of you fought quite often as you held a lot of resentment against her for leaving you and your father. And now, you were twenty-three, still living with your mother as you went through college because it was the easiest thing to do.

When you first laid eyes on Aaron Hotchner, it was a year after his wife had passed away. He had met your mother and the two had gotten engaged rather quickly, exclaiming that the two of them didn’t want to wait when they didn’t have to. They were both adults interested in one another. And Aaron was just glad that Jack had taken a liking to you almost immediately.

You had always been attracted to Aaron. He was an attractive man. He was a great father to Jack, looked amazing in a suit, he was kind and respectful. Not to mention the authoritative voice he took when he answered his work calls never failed to cause you to clench your thighs. It’s wrong of you to be attracted to your step-father. It’s taboo. And yet you couldn’t help it. You had spent many nights fingering yourself to the thought of your step-father fucking you so ridiculously good.

It was a Friday night. Jack was at a sleepover with one of his friends, your mom was on a work trip as she works as a traveling sales representative, and Aaron was on a case in New York, leaving you home alone for the night. You had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt and went downstairs to do your college coursework on your laptop.

As you worked on an essay for your psychology class, you heard keys turning in the front door, signaling that someone was home. You looked up from your computer as you were sitting on the couch to see Aaron walking in looking exhausted and stressed. “Hey,” you greeted softly.

Aaron looked over at the couch, giving you a small smile. “Hey,” he greeted back, placing his bag down before walking over to the couch and sitting down next to you. “How’s everything going?” he asked, getting himself comfortable. His legs were spread, his knee touching yours unintentionally. But you made no effort to move away.

“Everything is good,” You replied, closing your laptop and placing it onto the coffee table. “Jack is at Pete’s house for the night. His mom will be taking him home in the morning. Mom’s still on her work trip for another week. And I was just working on an essay.” You took a deep breath, looking at Aaron. “How was the case?”

Aaron sighed, running a hand over his face. “It was certainly…something,” he said exhaustedly. “It was truthfully a rough one. It involves kids and those are always so hard.” You nodded in understanding, not really sure of what else to say. “How come you’re not out on a Friday night?” Aaron asked, looking at you with a curious look.

“Didn’t really feel like it,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. “My boyfriend asked me to go out but…I just didn’t feel like seeing him tonight.”

“Did something happen?” Aaron asked.

“Just a dumb argument a few days ago,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Nothing important.”

Aaron hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you even love him?” he asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion about the question. “What?” you asked, looking at your step father.

Aaron looked at you expectedly. “Do you even love him?” he asked again. “You are in this relationship and yet your body language shows that you’re not that interested in him.”

“Is that really any of your business?” you asked defensively.

“It is when your attention seems to be on me,” Aaron replied smoothly. He adjusted himself so that he was closer to you ever so slightly. His arm was draped on the top of the couch.

Your cheeks became hot as you looked at your step-father, unsure of what to say or what to do. “I-I have no idea what you mean,” you exclaimed, very clearly a lie though you didn’t want to admit that.

“Oh but I think I do,” Aaron said, quirking his lip. “I see the way you look at me, y/n. With those beautiful eyes, you look at me with longing, desire, and admiration. As though I am the thing you need and want most.” Aaron’s tone was soft but knowing. He was a profiler. He could likely tell you things about yourself that even you didn’t know.

“What about it?” You whispered, your attention focused on him completely. Your heart raced with anxiety. You weren’t quite sure what to do. Aaron’s words were true. You had desired him since the day you laid eyes on him. But it wasn’t right. It was taboo. Which is why you never thought that Aaron would ever feel the same or even acknowledge your thoughts.

Aaron’s arm moved to your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. His other hand went to your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I look at you the same way,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning your cheek.

Hearing these words made your heart flutter and heat pool near your thighs. Your mother and step-fathers relationship had been a bit strained from the beginning. They sort of rushed into it, only caring about the fact that they didn’t need to worry about one another too much since neither one of them were home that much. The rare times they were both home, they acted like a perfect couple for a few days until reality settles in and they’re stuck with one another. But you never thought that Aaron would ever feel a type of way about you.

Without any other words spoken, Aaron softly placed his lips onto yours. It took you a moment to process what was truly happening. Your step-dad was kissing you. Something you’ve longed for quite a while was finally happening. And after a few moments of shock, you kissed Aaron back. For what started off as soft and innocent quickly turned hot and heated as Aaron’s hand began to roam your body. You found yourself moving onto his lap, sitting on top of him as you cupped his face. One of his hands landed on your hip while the other entangled in your hair.

You felt heat going straight to your core, dampening your panties. You couldn’t help but crave friction. While kissing Aaron, you tentatively moved your hips against his, grinding your cunt onto his clothed bulge. The both of you let out soft moans of pleasure, Aaron’s fingers digging into your hip. He pulled away from the kiss to look up at you, placing his other hand on your other hip. “Can you feel just how much I want you?” he asked in that same soft tone as before as he grinded you on his cock again.

You let out a soft moan, nodding your head. “Yes,” you replied. “Take me to bed?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Of course, princess,” Aaron replied. He moved you off of him to stand up before picking you up bridal style and carrying you up the stairs. You held on by wrapping your arms around his neck. He brought you to his bedroom, the one he shared with your mother, placing you on the edge of his side of the bed. He leaned down, still standing as you were sitting, and placed his lips on yours once more.

One of his hands roamed your body, landing on your right boob as he massaged the skin through your shirt. You gasped into the kiss, the sensation sending sparkes to your cunt. Aaron pulled away from the kiss, moving to grab the hem of your shirt before pulling it off of you, revealing your flesh to him. You hadn’t worn a bra after getting out of the shower as you didn’t expect anyone to be home tonight.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron said, moving a piece of your hair out of your face before leaning back down to kiss you. His hand massaged your skin, rolling your nipple around with his thumb. You let out a moan into Aaron’s mouth, unable to help yourself from making the noise.

After a few minutes of massaging both of your breasts, Aaron’s fingers trailed lower, reaching the waistline of your shorts. He pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a serious face. “If you want me to stop, now would be the time to do so,” He exclaimed.

“Please don’t stop,” you responded, looking up at Aaron with a lustful gaze. “I-I need you so bad,” you admitted, blushing in slight embarrassment.

“Good girl,” Aaron replied, moving his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and panties. His praise caused you to let out a whimper. “You like being called that, don’t you?”

You nodded your head in response.

Aaron simply hummed in acknowledgement, running a finger down your slit to feel your wetness. “God, you’re soaked,” he whispered in awe. “All for me, princess?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered back, the name just falling out of your mouth without any thought.

You hadn't even realized you said it until Aaron let out a groan. “Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. Those two words sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock as he processed what you had said. “I’ll give you anything you want, darling. You’re being such a good girl for me.” And with that, he began to rub your clit.

You let out a low moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you did so. Aaron moved himself so that he was sat behind you, his hand still on your clit while your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around you, leaning in to kiss your neck. His finger went from your clit to your hole, spreading your wetness around before easing a finger inside of you. You whined at the feeling, letting out a soft “daddy,” in pleasure.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said into your skin. He began moving his finger slowly inside of you, teasing your pussy. Your soft moans were like music to Aaron’s ears as he played with your cunt. He eventually added a second finger, stretching you out slightly as he quickened his pace. He hooked his fingers, hitting your g-spot and causing you to jolt and arch your back.

“O-oh fuck,” you moaned, placing a hand on Aaron’s thigh. “Oh my god.”

If you had asked yourself earlier in the day if your step-father would be finger fucking you right now, you likely would’ve laughed. But here you are, getting finger fucked by the man you’ve only thought about, never thinking it would actually happen. The room was filled with the sounds of your wet cunt as Aaron sped up his fingers. You were writhing in his arms, your head rested on his shoulder.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured into your ear, his hot breath on your skin. “I’ve dreamt about doing this,” he began to speak. “Every time I come home from a case and you’re just sitting there in your pajamas, focused on your coursework, looking so beautiful.” Aaron’s other hand moved to your left boob, massaging the skin. “When you’d stretch and let out a small moan, it never failed to make me want to bend you over and take you right then and there.”

You whined in response, his words, the added pleasure, the repeated movements of his fingers inside of you, it was all so much. You felt that familiar heat building in your abdomen as your orgasm slowly approached. “Don’t even get me started on that vacation we took a few months ago,” Aaron continued. “That skimpy bathing suit that barely hid anything when we went to the beach,” His voice was very attractive and soft as he spoke. “Couldn’t help but touch myself that night in the shower to the thought of you while your mother was just in the other room.”

“Daddy,” you moaned, your breathing becoming heavy and shaky. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, baby,” Aaron replied, moving his digits inside of you faster. “You’re doing so good.”

Your walls clenched around Aaron’s fingers as your orgasm came over you. Your thighs clamped together as you arched your back against Aaron, whining and moaning as you came. Aaron fingered you through your orgasm, coaxing you through it. And when you finally came down from your high, Aaron gave you soft kisses along your skin, calming you down.

“Daddy,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “Need your cock,” you turned your head to look at Aaron, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“And you’ll get it, baby,” Aaron hummed, turning his face to kiss you on the lips. He let go of you, standing up from his spot behind you. “Take your shorts off for me.” He said as he began unbuttoning his shirt. You obliged, pulling down your shorts and tossing them to the side, leaving you fully nude. You bit your lip, looking up at Aaron with doe eyes.

Aaron tossed his shirt to the side before moving to unbuckle his pants. He tossed his belt to the side, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxer briefs. You let out a small whimper as Aaron’s cock sprang out. He was about seven inches but he was quite girthy, definitely bigger than your previous partners. “You’re so big,” you whispered, looking at his cock.

Your words caused Aaron to chuckle. “Am I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. “Glad you think so, princess.” He walked back over to the bed as he kicked his pants away. “Lay on your side for me.”

You nodded your head, laying down on your side, your head on the pillows. Aaron moved your leg, holding it up slightly as he kneeled on the mattress, straddling your other leg. He rested your leg on his thigh, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your pussy. He brought the tip to your clit before moving it down, spreading your wetness onto his cock. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the sheets. His cock moved to your hole, slowly probing at your entrance. You moaned at the intrusion, feeling the stretch in your cunt. Aaron hissed in pleasure as your walls enclosed around his member.

Tears formed in your eyes at the sting. Aaron leaned down to kiss your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to relax you. When Aaron bottomed out, he stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. After a few minutes, the pain subsided. “Y-you can move,” you said.

Aaron began to slowly thrust, moving his hips out before moving back inside of you. The both of you let out moans as he settled into a slow rhythm. “You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Aaron groaned.

“So big, daddy,” you whined, burying your head into the pillow. Aaron’s cock filled you up so good, hitting in spots you had never felt before. “Never been so full.”

Aaron moaned softly, leaning down to capture your lips with his as he thrusted his hips. His cock grazed your g-spot, going deeper inside of you, causing you to let out a choked moan. “O-oh fuck,” you moaned against Aaron’s lips. “F-faster, please.”

And he obliged. He moved his hips at a faster pace, putting a hand in your hair and tugging at the strands. You started to moan louder, your eyes fluttering shut as Aaron’s cock plunged in and out of you. “You’re so perfect,” Aaron exclaimed, breathing heavily. “Being such a good girl for me.” Aaron started thrusting into you harshly, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “Mine,” he said, leaning down to nip at your neck.

“All yours, daddy,” you whined. “Always yours.” The moans leaving your mouth were whorish as his cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars. You turned your head to bury it in the pillows.

That was until Aaron gripped your hair, yanking your head back a bit. “Look at me while I fuck you,” he said, his voice rough and filled with desire. You obeyed, turning your head to look up at Aaron with your beautiful eyes. His brown orbs were on you as he fucked you, his pace almost brutual.

The sensation of his cock pounding into you made tears of pleasure well up in your eyes, making you let out a sob. “Daddy,” you sobbed in pleasure. “it’s too much, too much.” you babbled.

Aaron cooed, running a soothing hand through your hair. “You can take it,” he replied, not relenting up. “Be a good girl and take it.” Aaron groaned.

The repeated assault onto your g-spot made your abdomen tighten as you felt your orgasm approaching. “So close,” you whimpered.

“Me too, baby, me too.”

And with just a few thrusts, you were clenching around Aaron’s cock, cumming for the second time that night. Aaron hissed in pleasure, letting out a moan as he followed suit, cumming inside of your cunt. You babbled as you came, letting out a mantra of “oh my gods” and “daddy” as Aaron moaned out sweet nothings.

When you both finished, the both of you were breathing heavily, Aaron still inside of you. He kissed your cheek. “You did so good,” he murmured.

As you came down from your high, Aaron pulled out, laying down next to you. He wrapped an arm around you, putting his other arm underneath your head and pulling you close to him. You turned towards him, laying your head on his chest. The both of you were silent, not saying a word as you processed what had happened. Your step father just fucked you into oblivion.

So what happens now?

“What does this mean for us?” You murmured softly, glancing up at Aaron’s face.

Aaron gave you a small smile, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “Well, we can continue as we were and pretend as though this didn’t happen,” he murmured back. “Or we can keep this a secret and explore what this is.”

“Our little secret?” You asked.

“Our little secret, princess.”

And so, that’s what it was. Your own little secret with your step-father. And thus your intimate relationship began.

[luveline]

coworker!james is fueling me rn thank u miss jade!! can i pretty please request a coworker!james drabble in which someone at work, a higher-up of some kind or someone visiting from another company being kind of cruel to reader, and jamie discovers that maybe there are several people who have just not been very kind to her, and she doesn’t really understand why he’s upset for her? please and thank u

—Why is James so upset? And how do you calm him down so quickly? fem, 1.2k

The horrible heat of the first week of British summer time finally breaks. It was an eventuality. Nothing good ever lasts for James —he must’ve been enjoying it too much. The sun is gone, the clouds are grey, and the office radiators pump a meek heat into the room.

The dreary skies outside depress him. “I miss the sun,” he sighs, putting the tips of his fingers together and bringing down his hands, base of his palms apart to stretch the sore inside of his wrists. They pang. 

“Sunny again next week,” Remus says reassuringly. “Just in time for your review!” 

“Please don’t remind me.” 

“I must remind you, Jamie.” Remus stands up, and he gives James a loving squeeze on the shoulder, voice close to his ear, “Because you need to pretend you like your job, at least for the next few days. Come and get some coffee with me.” 

James waves his hand. “In a second.” 

When James met Remus, Remus couldn’t take touch. Didn’t like it or want it, couldn’t accept so much as a compliment, but things change, and years of knowing one another makes squeezing and pinching easy work. Remus flicks him without cruelty and exits the nook, leaving James on his own. 

He glares at your empty seat, confused. When did you leave? 

Doesn’t matter. Coffee. James is in desperate need of coffee as Remus recommended to warm up. He exits out of his desktop and shucks his suit jacket back on, taking a hand to run through his knotted hair as he walks. Past the desk banks of the account managers and the reception bank to the hallway that runs into the break room and adjourning kitchen. The office is a weird maze but the worst part is having the big ‘conference’ room right next to the break room, so the people inside working can judge you for eating, and vice versa. 

The conference room door is propped open. 

James recognises you from behind, your hair and tight shoulders. He should recognise the stress, having caused so much of it. 

“It’s just not good enough.” 

“I know.”

“You coast by, doing half the work of your fellow accountants.” 

“I… I was sick for a week, I know it affected my turnover. But nothing went unfinished, sir.” 

“No, because your colleagues picked up your slack.” 

“Sir, I– I promise I work hard.” 

Your voice is so oddly unlike yourself, a tone James is unfamiliar with. He’s arrogant and agitating and has no business interrupting, but he knocks the conference door anyways. 

“Hi, Mr. Vida. How’s it going?” James asks.

“James, it’s fine. We’re just going through L/N’s review.” 

James pulls one of those boyish smirks that men often share when they should be grimacing instead. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” He hangs on like he has something else to say. 

“I think we’re about finished.” 

Mr. Vida is a predictable man. He ushers the woman away to make room for the man. His misogyny is unsubtle and unfortunate, your expression laced with hurt as you gather yourself and stand to leave. 

“Not looking forward to mine,” James says easily. You round the door, and he sends Mr. Vida a suck-up smile before he goes. He should stand up for you in a way that matters, but he’d felt it imperative to remove you from the situation, rather than escalate. 

He’s on your tail, coffee forgotten as you scurry back to the desks. “Hey,” he says, finding himself in a half-jog to keep up, “wait, wait, are you okay?” 

You slow. “I’m fine,” you say, so mildly perplexed that he doesn’t think for a moment you’re playing it cool. 

“He was getting a little heavy with you.” 

You frown in agreement, but otherwise move on, rolling your chair back with your foot to open your desk drawer. “I guess so. He’s like that.” 

“Is he? I’ve never had him that mad at me.” 

“He’s not that bad.” You pull a blister pack of painkillers from your drawer and pop three out in a row. “Have you met his boss? Oh, have you ever spoken to the manager of the account managers from the Brussels office? She sucks.” 

James doesn’t have the wherewithal to pretend he wasn’t following you. He stands with his hands vice-like on the back of his chair. “What did they say to you?” 

“Who, Mr. Vida’s boss? Or the Brussels manager?” 

“Both.” 

You sit and fish a bottle of water from your bag. “I actually filed a successful grievance again Mr. Vida’s boss, he kept calling me sweetheart. I know,” —you wince— “that’s a bit much, but it was really obvious he was looking down at me, so.” 

“And the Brussels manager?” 

“She emailed me thinking I was much more involved with the lab than I actually am. She kept calling me stupid.” You take one of your tablets and wash it down with a swig of water. “But,” you add, smiling at him, “I did manage to solve her problem.” 

“What do you mean, she called you stupid?” 

Your smile slips. “She called me a bunch of stuff. Professionally, you know, but she kept asking why my foresight was so sorely lacking. You know what they’re like.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t, no. Nobody’s ever called me stupid. Or sweetheart.” 

You smile genially. “Perks of being a girl. Or stupid.” You laugh at yourself softly.

“You’re not stupid.” 

You sober at his solemn tone. “I know,” you say. “I’m just joking.” 

“Nobody should be talking to you like that.” 

“I know, James, but what am I supposed to do?” 

He doesn’t know. What can you do? Nothing. What can James do? What should he do? 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. 

Your frown deepens. “It’s not your fault. It’s really fine.” 

“It’s not fine. It’s not, though, it’s–”

“James?” you say. 

“What?” 

You stand up. You stand close to him, looking into his face. “Don’t be upset,” you say, mirroring his softer tone, “it’s okay. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it at all.” 

“Well, luckily this time I had you to come and rescue me,” you say. “But it really is fine. I can look after myself, even if I shouldn’t have to. Okay?” 

Your hand finds his arm. You squeeze his wrist and his entire torso lights up, everything, his chest, the backs of his shoulders, like goosebumps but warmer and with a softer fuzz to it. Your eyes meet his, an encouraging smile playing on a pretty mouth. For the first time that day, he feels pleasantly warm, like he’s had that first hot sip of coffee. 

The pads of your fingers are so, so soft where you catch his bare skin. 

“Okay,” he says instinctively. He’d say the sky was red if you asked him to, in that moment. 

You rub the back of his thumb with yours before letting him go. You sit down and finish your drink, and it takes James a good two minutes at his own desk to remember he’s not the one who needed comforting. 

He opens his emails to write a formal complaint against Mr. Vida for poor work conduct. He doesn’t think twice about hitting send. 

[monamipencil]

svt reactions to u walking in on them watching porn?

pairings; hyung line x reader, established relationship. | a/n; tried to keep it as realistic as possible.

cheol — i don't think he watches them often 'cause he has you. why search relief in porn when you're right there. even if you're away, he'll have a personal stash of your nudes and vids. 'cause his dick stays hard only for you <3 so catching him jerking off to your nudes and vids means him fucking you into oblivion and filming and adding it to the stash too.

han — a fucking menace. feels too lazy to create scenarios of you to jerk off to, so he resorts to watching mediocre porn. absolutely no shame if you catch him. he'll just continue moving his hand up and down his shaft, but he redirects his gaze at you now. you could be wearing the cutest pajamas, but he'll moan sluttily, and continue to fuck his hands. and you'll strip in seconds, hopping onto his lap to ride him.

joshua — got horny from working out and he needs some kind of visualiser. but he's also a gentleman and he didn't want to disturb you. so, porn it is. way to caught up in imagining you in that girl's place and doesn't realise that you're home. gets way too embarrassed when you catch him and tries to laugh it off to no avail. thought you were gonna break up with him till you started grinding on him while cuddling. long story short, he made you squirt and went down on you till you saw heaven.

jun — embarrassed but too horny to care. he whines an apology and hides his raging boner. his cheeks warm up in embarrassment and his cock only twitches further when he notices your dress. a short dress that hugged you perfectly. he whines again when you walk up to him, taking his cock in your hands. needless to say, you ended up bailing on your friends 'cause your boyfriend's just too pretty being all whiny and shy.

soonyoung — walking in on soonyoung watching porn isn't on your bucket list but here you are. and jealousy burns in your heart 'cause he wasn't watching normal porn but those with the streamer girls. he gets startled and tries to close the window but ends up zooming in, somehow. things are awkward for 2 days and he can't digest the look on your face when you caught him, feeling guilty. yk he won't bring it up, so you do it, telling him it's fine and it's normal to be attracted to someone else. he prolly gets drunk, crying and profusely proposing his love for you. "i swear i only love your boobs."

wonwoo — really embarrassed about it. feels like a teenager who got caught watching porn. tries to be discreet and hide the panties he stole from your drawer but you end up catching it. his brain is foggy and he cannot form words for the love of god. and he inhales sharply when you smile at him sweetly. he fucks you with more desperation and gets quite rough. whispers an apology during aftercare, while washing your hair.

jihoon — it's a rare occasion for him to jerk off and rarer for him to watch porn. he thought he was being discreet but the sounds from his home studio said otherwise. he quickly closes the tab when he sees you opening the door, but you catch him nonetheless. freezes like a deer in headlights, and you watch as his face slowly turns pink and then he's scrambling to explain himself. even more embarrassed when you tell him it's ok and ask if he needs help. can't look at you in the eye for a few days lmao.

@seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys

(send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[14dayswithyou]

The 14DWY brainrot is real... >_< were ypu planning on sharing koi ren's design here too or is it discord only for now? remember to drink lots n lots of water today 🐸☔️

i don't rmbr if i included this but can you share any koi crumbs too?

✦゜ANSWERED: aaaaa I'm 14 years late to this ask (/silly), but thank you for reminding me!! I'll add the new Mer Ren design to da queue >:3

I'll also put the Koi Ren (I'm rocking with this new name!!) crumbs under the cut!!

"Stop rocking the boat, Ren." Without sparing a glance in his direction, you continue to stare out into the vast, open lake. "You'll scare away all the fish."

Had you turned around, you would've seen the faux-deadpan look on his face as Ren takes in the irony of your words. As if to prove a point, he gently swishes his tail in the water, which causes small ripples to form and (eventually) disturb your bobber. "I don't think the boat is the problem here."

"Okay, how about this... One more fish, then we can go back." You finally look back at your scaley companion — who was still leaning against the edge of your tin boat with a lazy smile — and give him a resolute nod. "Promise."

"Sure," Ren casually reaches into the boat to pick and pluck at some of your live bait. "But you said that about the last three fish."

"This will be the last one. I swear."

"You... swear?" You try to ignore the way Ren swallows up one of your minnows as if you weren't using them for bait as he continues to speak, "Like... curse words? Humans sure are weird creatures."

As if realising his comment, Ren's ocean-blue eyes widen slightly and shift towards your form. "N-Not... Not you, though."

With a laugh, you playfully try to nudge him off of the boat. All it does is cause it to tip slightly, but Ren steadies it when you show signs of losing balance.

"Alright. One more fish, then?"

You nod and cast your attention back to your rod once more. You don't even notice the silence — nor Ren slipping away — until you suddenly feel a tug on your line and call out to your companion in excitement. "That was quick!"

Quickly reeling it in, you wonder what kind of fish you'd just caught — it's definitely stronger than you anticipated, given how the rod drastically bends and snaps at every movement from the fish. And just as you see the shadow from the murky depths get closer, the ripples get bigger and cause a stir underneath your tin boat. Standing up now, you try with all your might to reel it on board...

...Only for a mess of black hair to emerge from below and peer up at you with a smug look.

"Ren!"

"Looks like you got a big one."

"C'moooon." You practically whine, though you allow Ren to haul himself into your tiny boat and rest his head in your lap. You can still feel his body shake from underneath your touch, no doubt still laughing at his poor attempt at a joke. "This doesn't count."

A beat passes before your fishy companion responds. "...Hm? Fine then."

Another moment of silence follows before he slithers back into the water without another word. Half of you worries that you might've said something to offend him (there was still the tiniest hint of a language barrier between you two). Still, it ultimately leads to nothing as Ren soon emerges once more — only this time, he's hauling the biggest largemouth bass you'd ever seen into your boat.

"This good enough?" He looks at you with wide, blue eyes. "If not, I can probably find a sturgeon and—"

"It's bigger than my boat!"

"Is this what your kind calls... exaggeration? Because your boat is big enough even for me to—"

"—Arghh! It's getting water everywhere! Put it back!"

It was almost comical how Ren tossed the fish over his shoulder and back into the water without breaking eye contact with you.

Another wave of silence hits, yet neither of you seems to move or break the awkward staring contest you'd somehow started. It's then when you notice Ren's grin get bigger — most likely at your resignation and embarrassment — which causes you to fall back into your seat in defeat.

"Fine. Enough fishing for today. Let's head back." Busying yourself with the bucket of fish and tacklebox in front of you, you secure your gear and pack everything away. But it seems Ren had other plans, seeing as he took it upon himself to climb back into your boat and rest his arms on your legs. No longer able to move as freely, you have no choice but to indulge in his carefree whims.

"But you caught me. Aren't you going to bring me home too?"

"As much as I want to," Truly, you do. You've always wanted to show Ren the world outside of Lake Bluemoss. "There's no way I'm carrying you all the way down the mountain."

"You never know until you cry."

"Try." You correct him. "Until you try."

"Your kind sure are funny." Ren nuzzles himself closer. "Perhaps another time, then... Stay here tonight."

Your body pricks up at his words, and you spare a glance at the abandoned boathouse near the dock. Despite its rough and rugged exterior, you and Ren actually made it quite comfy. It had some of your old blankets and sheets thrown over one of the boats to make it comfortable to lounge in — alongside a giant empty tank that you and Ren filled with water for him to sit in as well. Despite the lack of human traction, the place still felt homey and well-loved.

"...I guess I could."

"Then what are we waiting shore?"

You had to roll your eyes at his attempt at a pun.