#the flirting is palpable

[samgirard]

└ mitch and mat during all star game warm-ups | 2.3.24

[theinfinitedivides]

so uh. DCIB is doing a Pathaan Prime watchalong this Sunday. you can guess what i'll be doing this Sunday

[beyondthebackup]

May I sit on your face?

"Since you asked so nicely..."

B raises an eyebrow in amusement.

"Still, shouldn't we get to know each other first?"

[coolemmasulivan2]

The Woman Next Door

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After winning the Dutch Grand Prix, Lando returns home to Monaco, eager to prove his genuine feelings to his neighbor, especially after their bet.

Word Count: 4181

You're my downfall, you're my muse My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues I can't stop singing It's ringing in my head for you

Lando had been your neighbour for nearly two years, a friendly presence in the building. But with you, his charm seemed to intensify. He flirted casually, his eyes sparkling with a playful passion. "You're my type!" He'd always say. Yet, your heart remained unmoved. The women he brought home were a strong contrast to you: tall figures in designer heels, showing their immense beauty. You, however, were a simple person who preferred simplicity over expensive clothing and felt most comfortable in jeans and sneakers.

Lately, his flirtations had intensified. He always ensured you knew he was single and was waiting for you. His promises of making you happy and treating you right were sweet, but you weren't fooled. Deep down, you couldn't deny a flicker of attraction, but you kept it hidden. Lando was a handsome man, but you'd seen enough to know he was more than just a pretty face.

"How was your family?" Emily asked, turning to you as she drove. She'd picked you up from the airport in Nice.

You smiled. "They're fine! It was great to be back home. I missed them."

"You know who else missed you?" Emily teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Who?" You asked, confused.

"Your hot neighbour! I ran into him yesterday at the supermarket and he asked about you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did he?"

"Yeah! He said, 'How's Y/n? I haven't seen her for a while. The building seems quite boring without her.'"

You crossed your arms. "He didn't say that!"

"I'm serious! I told him you were coming back today, so maybe he'll be waiting by your door, ready to confess his feelings. And then... BANG! Happily ever after."

You couldn't help but wince at Emily's over-the-top dramatic gestures. Despite her tendency to go overboard, you couldn't help but love her for it.

"You've been watching too many films."

"You're going to end up together. Mark my words." She replied and you made a gagging sound that made her laugh.

As she dropped you off at your apartment building, you grabbed your luggage and thanked her with a tight hug. You entered the building and pressed the lift button.

As the liftdoors opened, you stepped inside, dragging your luggage behind you. You were admiring your reflection in the mirror when a hand stopped the doors, causing them to reopen.

You turned to see Lando, dressed in a McLaren white vintage t-shirt and black jeans. His curls were perfectly coiffed, and a smirk played on his lips. Like always.

"Look who's back!" Lando's voice filled the cramped lift. "Good to see you."

"Hi, Lando." You replied.

The two of you lived on the top floor, making the lift feel even smaller and slower. "How were the holidays?"

"Fine! Too short." You admitted, the tension palpable. "What about you?"

Lando studied you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your face. "They were good. Family, friends, good weather. But I'm glad to be back to work." The lift seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. "And happy to see you again."

"Here we go!"

Lando chuckled. "What?"

"You know what! You know that flirting with me isn't going to work. I'm not interested."

"But I am!" He said. You quickly looked away, praying for the elevator doors to open. "I'm very much interested."

"To how many girls have you said that?" You asked, your voice laced with scepticism.

"None, believe it or not." Lando replied, his tone sincere.

As the lift doors opened, you stepped out and fumbled for your keys. Lando leaned against the wall beside you. "What can I do to convince you to go on a date with me?"

You took a deep breath, finally finding your keys. He was starting to make you nervous. "I don't think your fans would like to see you having dinner with a woman."

"That's not a problem for me." He said confidently. "I'll have dinner with whoever I want." As you unlocked your apartment door, he continued, "But if that's the issue, we can have dinner at my place, eat McDonald's in my car, anything to make you comfortable."

You pushed your luggage inside and faced him. "Lando…" You began, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not looking for a one-night stand. I want a relationship. A public relationship. I want to go out with my partner, have dinner, eat ice cream, have meaningful conversations on the balcony. I want trust, and I don't want to worry about being cheated on. I want kids and I don't want to wait until my thirties. Marriage isn't essential, but I want this person to be my last. If you want me to go on a date with you, prove to me that you're that person." Lando listened intently, his expression serious. "Bye, Lando!"

You started to close the door, but Lando's hand quickly stopped it.

"Uh, when was the last time you saw me bring a woman home?"

You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure. "What?"

"I haven't brought anyone home since I told you I liked you. Four months ago! I never told you I was looking for a one-night stand. I've always been open about my past relationships and I've never cheated on anyone. I also want to have a family and I'll convince you to change your mind about marriage." You stared at him, speechless. "But if I have to prove myself, I'm up for the challenge!" He said, winking as stepped away. "Bye, Y/n."

You closed and locked your door, your heart pounding in your chest. Your cheeks were flushed. For the first time, he had left you speechless. You'd always dismissed his flirting as a joke, but now you realized that maybe it was more than that.

Later that night, you invited your friends Maria and Lisa over for dinner and a movie night. You didn't want to be alone with Lando next door, and you needed to talk about it.

"He's so into you!" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's the classic boy-next-door story."

You set the popcorn and wine on the coffee table. Maria, already a bit tipsy from dinner, was making the most confident comments you'd ever heard from her.

"Just go on a date with him. He's handsome, rich, and lives next door. What more do you want?"

"I want stability, honesty, and someone who makes me happy and laughs with me." You replied.

"He already does that!" Maria insisted. "He was honest with you, you laugh with him, and I'm sure he'd make you happy, if you know what I mean." She chuckled, and Lisa joined in.

"You're drunk!" You teased.

"I am, but I'm still the wiser one." She retorted. "Why don't you just sleep with him? See how that makes you feel."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You know I'm not like that. When I'm with someone, it's because I like them."

"But you do like him." Lisa argued.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Lando was engrossed in a game with Max when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, surprised by the late hour. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was unusual for someone to just walk into the building and ring his bell.

"Someone's at the door." He told Max, removing his headphones. The doorbell rang again. "Give me a second."

He was taken aback to see your friend, Maria, standing there. Her cheeks flushed and the scent of alcohol was strong.

"Lando, hi!" She slurred.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. One of your other friends was watching from your apartment door.

"Hi, Maria! What can I do for you?" Lando asked, his tone polite but curious.

"Quick!" Lisa whispered to Maria.

"Look, I'm going to the point. Y/n wants to go on a date with you, but she's afraid you only want to get in her pants." Maria blurted out.

Lando crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Is that so? Does she know you're doing this?"

You were nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't believe you'd ask your friends to do something like that.

"Of course not! But we're her friends and we know she really likes you. She doesn't show it, but she does." Maria insisted.

You dried your hands and glanced in the mirror, adjusting your hair before opening the bathroom door.

To your surprise, the girls were gone from the living room, but you heard giggles coming from the door. As you approached, you realized what was happening.

"So, about the date…" You pushed past Lisa, finding Maria deep in conversation with Lando.

You quickly stepped out and grabbed Maria's hand. "What are you doing?" You were panicking.

"I'm helping you!" She whispered, but everyone could still hear her.

"You're not. Come on!" You started walking her back to your apartment, but Lando stopped you by gently grabbing Maria's wrist.

"You can't take her now. She was about to tell me what I need to do to convince you to go on a date with me." He said, smirking. You resisted the urge to slap the smirk off his face.

"She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's talking about." You argued.

"She clearly does." Lando insisted.

Maria nodded in agreement. "Yes, I do. Lando, you just have to win."

You and Lando looked at her, each holding one of her wrists.

"What?" You asked.

"She'll go on a date with you if you win the next race." Maria announced.

Lando smirked and looked at you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker. "We have a deal!"

"No, we don't!" You said, but no one seemed to be listening.

Maria extended her hand for Lando to shake. "Deal! You better win, because I won't be able to help you again." She winked and went inside your apartment.

You looked at Lando, your arms crossed. "That's not going to happen, you know that right?"

"Why? Are you afraid I'll win?" He challenged.

"No!" You replied.

"So, let's do it. If I win, you go on a date with me--"

"And if you lose, you'll stop asking me to go on a date with me!" You added. Lando stood still, considering. "What? Are you afraid you'll lose?"

After a moment, Lando extended his hand. "Fine!" You grabbed his hand and shook it.

The weekend arrived sooner than you'd expected. Lando had qualified P1, making you question your decision to agree to the bet. You were a Mercedes fan, but deep down, were you rooting for McLaren? It was great to see him win again, but was this really the best time to root for him?

You sat on Emily's sofa between Lisa and her dog, Zeus, watching the race. You wore your Mercedes cap, while Lisa and Maria sported their Ferrari t-shirt. Neither of your friends was a McLaren fan, but today they couldn't stop shouting the name of the British driver.

"Oh my god, he's going to win!" Lisa exclaimed.

"Don't jinx it." Emily replied, slapping her arm.

You slumped on the sofa, unable to say anything. Only when the race ended did you let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding. He had won the Dutch Grand Prix. He had actually won.

Your friends jumped in the air, celebrating his victory. You ran your hands through your hair.

"Guess who's going on a date with a hot British driver!" Lisa mocked, pulling you up from the sofa.

"You are!" Emily repeated, jumping around you.

An hour later, you were walking home alone. The Monaco weather was pleasant, and the streets were bustling with people.

As you arrived at the building, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Lando.

Lando: Hope you're free tomorrow night! I can't wait for our date.

Fuck, you mumbled to yourself.

On Monday, you left the apartment earlier than usual. The night before, Lando had knocked on your door, hoping to talk to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. The next day, you woke up an hour earlier and left for work, hoping to avoid him on your way out. But the universe had other plans.

As you were leaving the building, you bumped into Lando, who had been out for a run.

He chuckled. "Leaving earlier to ignore me?"

You cleared your throat. "No, I just have a big project going on… and have to go earlier."

"Okay." He said, clearly not believing you. "So, I hope you're excited for tonight."

"I don't-- I don't think I have time tonight." You stammered.

"Well, I already reserved our table, and I don't think you'd back out of a bet. So, I'll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something orange if you have it." He whispered in your ear before walking away.

You'd been thinking about Lando all day, your mind racing with anticipation and nerves.

Upon returning home, you immediately took a long shower and emptied your closet to find the perfect outfit. A nice orange summer dress caught your eye. You couldn't remember the last time you'd worn it, but you recalled how flattering it was with your tan.

When you put it on, it looked even better than you remembered. However, doubts crept into your mind. What if he just wanted to get in your pants? What if this was all a joke to him?

Lando knocked on your door at 7 pm sharp, and a few seconds later, you opened it. Lando struggled to contain his astonishment at your appearance.

You were wearing a cute red dress and heels. Your long hair was wavy and you looked stunning. You always looked amazing, but tonight there was a special glow about you. It was a shame you weren't wearing orange.

"Wow!" He said, taking in your appearance. "You look... beautiful."

You blushed and looked away, trying to hide it. "Thank you." You whispered.

You closed your apartment door, and Lando called for the lift. The ride to the garage was silent, surprising you that Lando hadn't said anything flirty or teased you.

He guided you towards his Lamborghini Urus, and you muttered a silent thank-you that he chose the Urus. Of all his cars, it was the most "normal" on the streets of Monaco.

As you left the garage, you broke the silence. "Where are we going?" You asked over the soft music of the radio.

Lando glanced at you. He looked good in his black pants and white shirt. You loved a man in a white shirt.

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises!" You said.

Lando laughed. "You hate surprises or you hate my surprises?"

You looked away. "Look at the road, Lando."

After a minute or two, Lando spoke again. "You look really beautiful."

Once again, you blushed. Thankfully, it was starting to get dark. "You already said that."

He stopped at a red light, gazing intensely at you. "And if you allow me, I would say that to you every single day." For a moment, his intense gaze made your legs feel like jelly.

The tension was broken only by a car honking behind you. Lando raised his hand in apology and pulled away. Three minutes later, he pulled up at the marina.

"I agreed to a date with you, not to run off." He said, getting out of the car.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and Lando opened your door. He gently placed his hand on your back, barely touching it, and guided you towards a large yacht named Aurora.

"It's from a friend of mine." Lando said as he pulled you towards the yacht deck. "He named it after his baby daughter. He let me borrow it for a few hours." Your mouth gaped open in surprise at the sight of the table for two, beautifully set with roses and candles. "I thought you'd be more comfortable alone." He explained. "Without the prying eyes of strangers or paparazzi."

Once again, he'd left you speechless. The candlelight, the city view, the soft music, and the sound of the water hitting the yacht created breathtaking scenery.

"I didn't picture you as the romantic type." You said.

Lando put his hands in his pockets and looked at you. "I can be romantic… when I have to." You didn't respond, just stared at him. He had two buttons undone, revealing the tan of his chest and the necklace he wore. "Let's sit?" He suggested and you nodded.

He pulled out your chair, demonstrating his gentlemanly side. He sat down opposite you, and a moment later, a man in a black suit approached with a bottle of wine.

The man poured the wine for the two of you. You could tell it was a very expensive wine just by looking at the bottle.

"Cheers!" Lando said, raising his glass. You clinked your glass with his and took a sip. It was delicious. "Do you like it?"

You nodded. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Lando chuckled. "Far from it. I want you to stay sober and experience firsthand how great of a date I can create for you."

"You're really taking this seriously!"

"When I like someone, I always take things seriously." He said, his face turning serious. "I fight for what I want. And it's no lie that I want you."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide your emotions. Before you could respond, the food arrived. It was a pepperoni pizza for you and a prosciutto one for Lando.

"How-- how did you know--?"

Lando smiled. "You order a lot of pizzas. Like… a lot. So one day, I stopped the delivery guy and asked him what you had ordered. He said you always ordered the same one."

You tried to suppress a laugh at his silliness. "Not creepy at all." You said sarcastically.

Lando laughed. "I know, I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you."

You kept on talking and eating, and you both laughed a lot. You had to admit that you had never felt so comfortable with someone before. After you finished eating, Lando and you walked to the car.

"I'll take you home." he said. He turned on the car but paused. "Unless you don't want to go home yet." For a moment, he seemed shy, which was unlike him, at least around you.

You thought for a moment. "I don't know..." It surprised you that you were considering spending more time with him than necessary. "I'm not going home with you if that's what you're thinking."

Lando laughed. "Well, I guess I'll have to call you an Uber if you're not going home with me. Like, to the same building." You blushed and let out a sigh. He loved teasing you. "Do you trust me?"

You gave him a side look. "No!"

"Wow, that was brutal. Let me rephrase the question: Can I take you somewhere, please?"

You hesitated, but eventually nodded your head.

Lando drove to the top of the hill, a spot he liked to visit when everything felt overwhelming. The view was breathtaking. Monaco looked beautiful during the day, but it was at night when the city truly took your breath away. He parked the car, and you both stepped out.

"This is beautiful." You said, looking at the view.

"It is. But it's not as beautiful as you," Lando replied. You blushed and looked away. You'd never blushed so much in your life.

You sat down on the bench and Lando joined you. "What do you really want from me?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

"I'm not stupid, Lando. You're an F1 driver. You're young and handsome. You could have anyone you wanted."

"But I want you!" He smiled. "You're smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And you're different from the women I've dated in the past. You're genuine. Like I've already told you, I like you. A lot."

You looked at him, your heart filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I don't know, Lando."

He squeezed your hand gently. "I understand that I'm not the easiest guy to be in a relationship with, but I'm willing to take things slowly. I just want you to know how I feel." The two of you sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. "Do you want to go back?" Lando asked after a while.

You nodded. "I think it's time."

As you drove back down the hill, you couldn't shake the feeling that something special was happening between you and Lando. You were excited, but also a little nervous.

When you arrived at your apartment building, Lando parked the car in the garage, but neither of you made a move to step out. "Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it." You said.

He smiled. "I'm glad you agreed."

"Well, I had no choice, remember?"

"Yeah. Remember me to thank Maria for the bet." He laughed, and you joined him.

"Yeah, yeah." After a while, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet kiss, and Lando closed his eyes as he felt your lips against his face.

As you pulled away, Lando hesitated, but after a second, he cupped your face and gently kissed you on the lips. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, quickly kissing him back and tangling your hand in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours. His touch was gentle, and you felt a warmth spread through you.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless. You looked at each other, your eyes filled with love and desire. "I've been wanting to do that, for a very long time." He said.

You looked into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "To how many girls have you said that?" You teased him.

He looked at your lips. "None. And if you let me, you're going to be the only one." He said and he couldn't help but smile.

You smiled back. You couldn't help but think that your life had just taken a turn for the better. And so did Lando. Finally, he got the girl. The woman next door.

[possessed-pack]

In-system relationships can be so intimate.

Waking up together, opening the same eyes, and stretching the same limbs. Yawning in time and saying a good morning that only you who are involved can understand what it's for.

Sharing a meal, not only from the same plate, but with the same hands and the same senses. Deciding what to eat together, something that fits all of your tastes.

Curled in the same bed, in the same blankets, in the same body, drowzily mumbling about nothing and everything to each other. Joking around and feeling their sleepy laugh as if it were your own.

Living life, and inviting them to share yours and your time in it--performing your daily tasks in the unison of cofront. Seeing and hearing and feeling everything together.

Feeling them blush when you flirt or compliment them. Feeling their joy when you get them a gift, or how safe you make them feel simply when you're around them.

Enveloped in the same love, from the same brain, with the same feeling of care for each other palpable between you. Feeling the emotions you feel yourself, coming from the other person. Feeling their love for you, in the rawest, most direct possible way.

[lovegasmic]

⋆ SHARING IS CARING (CUCKOLDING)

ft. Sukuna x reader x husband Satoru

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, voyeurism, modern au, company rivals, Satoru has a degradation kink lmaooo, doggy, mentions of oral sx, mentions of creampiė

request from @alainatranquility ‹3

this request got so long I decided to format it as a fic.

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

Sukuna’s attraction to you was not a secret.

having to find him at every high end party concerning your husband and the pink haired man’s companies, the latter didn’t wait any second to grab a glass of champagne, put on his characteristic smirk and blatantly flirt with you in front of Satoru.

and although as jealous as your husband was, it also made his cock hard, solely from imagining how beautiful you’d look moaning and whining under the other man, he loves you, he knows you’re his, but can you blame a man for having fantasies?

the party is the usual, boring and snobbish people kissing each other’s asses in an attempt to make their own business grow, being the little corner next to the bar where you, Satoru and Sukuna stand a small escape to everyone else.

“have you finally decided to ditch your husband and marry me instead, gorgeous?” is what Sukuna says, a smile on his face while his and Satoru’s chests caged you in.

Satoru shouldn’t be getting hard, but he does and you’re well aware, the bulge in his pants pressing on your lower back is much larger than usual and the usual sexual tension much stronger.

you have spoken about it, about the lingering and very palpable tension between the three of you, but your husband would never admit it in front of his eternal rival, opting to squeeze your hip and push you closer to the —most likely, warmth of his twitching cock.

now it’s in your hands to subtly slide a single piece of paper into Sukuna’s suit jacket pocket, one with your hotel room number before Satoru is dragging you away.

a threesome was what Sukuna expected upon entering the fancy suite, having found you pinned against a wall with Satoru’s hand under your dress and tongue deep down your throat, and you a flustered mess with saliva coated lips and a single strand of it connecting yours and Satoru’s lips.

“you look stunning like that, darling, I like that expression on you” Sukuna offers you one of his characteristic smirks, stepping deeper into the dark room, being the city lights your only form of illumination where you stand. mind reeling with the possibilities, perhaps you’ll suck him off while Satoru fucks you, or you’ll rub that pretty pussy of yours all over his face while your soft lips wrap around your husband’s cock, all scenarios sexier than the last.

yet Satoru remains awkwardly silent, long legs moving in a backwards motion until he’s sitting on a plush couch, eyes locked on you and the way Sukuna is palming his erection.

“don’t hurt her” is all the white haired says, and enough for the other man to understand your real intentions.

the squelch of Satoru’s hand moving up and down his own cock is disgustingly loud, dripping like never before down his wrist and staining the dark fabric of his way too expensive trousers, head back against the wall and eyes locked on your rolled out ones.

a pervert is what he is, twitching whenever Sukuna forces a specially hard thrust into your cunt, drooling whenever Sukuna mutters a praising to you and a mocking snark comment to you.

“beautiful, beautiful girl” each word accentuated by a heavy smack of his full balls against your clit, “that stupid you have as husband doesn’t deserve you” and you sob, back arched and nipples rubbing against the sheets, “i can treat you better, fuck you better...”

merciless is what he is, years of pent up frustration, of having to watch your stunning self being so close yet so far of his reach, now transmitted to his cock pounding your sloppy hole, greedily squeezing the flesh of your ass to spread you wider, to pull you closer and repeatedly smack into the deepest point of your pussy.

although Sukuna’s focus was on you, he couldn’t help but steal a few glances at Satoru with a cocky smirk, especially when you creamed his cock, and this time addressing him as well, “hey, is she always this wet when you fuck her?” and Satoru groans, squeezing the base of his cock, refusing to reply to a question he knows is solely to rile him up.

“that’s what I thought” he murmurs, leaning to press his whole body weight on your back with his hips loudly slamming into your ass with slow but deep thrusts, making you squeak and drool all over the sheets, “you’re so fucking gorgeous, darling, creaming my cock, tightening so much, fuck...”

“—Kuna...!”

and that’s all Sukuna needs, having you whimper your husband’s name through the whole night, but somehow your brain fried forgot about that detail, too stimulated, too fucked stupid to remember, now squeaking and whining Sukuna’s name, like you fuckin’ need him.

“that’s a good fucking girl, oh yeah, suck my cock, baby, i’ll fill you up nice and good” he won’t of course, having a condom wrapped around his throbbing erection ruined the whole fun, but he could dream right? dream of giving you a nice and sloppy creampie that would drip down your thighs, that filled you to the brim enough to ooze and make red faced Satoru cum embarrassingly hard

[harrysfolklore]

not a prize to win - cl16

summary: seeing charles with other admirers makes you upset, even though you know he loves you

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If looks could kill, you swear that the one you were giving Charles right now would have him buried.

Being with Charles for over three years now, you were used to girls coming over to him all the time. Whether they were fans, reporters or just random women, you had seen it all. Usually, you handled it with grace, trusting in the bond you and Charles had built over the years. But today was different.

The scene replays in your mind, the influencer's high-pitched laughter ringing in your ears. She had sauntered into the Ferrari garage, her confidence palpable as she made a beeline for Charles, draped herself over him, her hands lingering a little too long on his arm, her body a little too close to his.

And what upset you the most, was the fact that Charles didn't stop her.

"Charles, darling, you're going to be amazing out there," she had gushed, batting her eyelashes.

"Thank you," Charles had smiled politely, "I have a good feeling about this race."

You had stood a few feet away, feeling an irrational surge of possessiveness. You wanted to march over, to insert yourself between them, to remind her that Charles was yours. But instead, you had stayed put, your feet rooted to the spot.

Rebecca had noticed your discomfort and had gently steered you away. "Let's go take a walk," she had suggested, leading you out of the garage.

"Do you think I overreacted?" you asked Rebecca as she gave your phone back.

"Not at all, love," she assured, "I mean, If she had been throwing herself at Carlos like that, I would be just as angry."

"I just," you said as you walked back to Ferrari hospitality, "I know he's loyal to me and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me like that, but it's not the first time he's oblivious of people shamelessly flirting with him right in front of me, and that's what upsets me."

"I get it. It's not about trust, it's about respect," Rebecca nodded sympathetically, her arm around your shoulder, "And sometimes, these girls just have no boundaries."

You sighed, feeling a little better having voiced your frustrations. "I just wish he would see it from my perspective."

As you approached the hospitality suite, you made your way towards Charles' room, after saying goodbye to Rebecca and thanking her for listening to you.

You knocked softly on the door, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and apprehension.

"Come in," Charles's voice called from inside.

You pushed the door open and stepped in. Charles looked up from his phone and sighed at the upset look still on your face.

"Amour, are you really mad at me right now?"

"I told you I was," you said, "I and thought you wanted me to come here to talk, not to keep dismissing my feelings."

Charles put his phone down and stood up, walking over to you with a concerned look in his eyes. "I do want to talk, chérie. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was ignoring your feelings. Please, tell me what's on your mind."

"She was all over you, battling her fake eyelashes and invading your personal space and you didn't mind at all."

"She was just being friendly, that's all," Charles said, trying to keep his patience.

"Just being friendly?" you gave a laugh in disbelief and raised your eyebrows at him, “Charles, that was not just friendly. That was flirtatious and disrespectful,” you said firmly, crossing your arms over your chest, “And you didn't even try to set boundaries.”

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't want to be rude. She's an influencer and you know the team wants us to interact with them when they visit the garage. It's part of my job.”

"Part of your job? Are you listening to yourself?" your eyes narrowed, "So letting her drape herself all over you is part of your job now?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Charles winced, "I just meant that sometimes, I have to be polite, even if it makes me uncomfortable."

“But at the expense of my feelings?” you shot back, “I stood there feeling like a third wheel while she fawned over you," he reached out to take your hands, but you pulled away, stepping back, "I hate seeing them treat you like some prize they can win. And I hate even more that you don't seem to care."

"I'm sorry amour, I really am," he searched for your eyes but you looked away, "What happened today hurt you and I'm sorry for that. I don't want you to feel this way."

"It's not just about today, Charles," you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, "It's about how often this happens. Girls come up to you, they flirt, they touch you, and you don't seem to notice or care. And not it turns out it's part of your job to flirt with them."

Charles let out a deep sigh again, putting his hands on his hips and looking away from you. You could tell that he was getting frustrated, but you were upset and you needed to get this out.

"I don't flirt with them," Charles said firmly, turning back to face you. His face now showing a mixture of frustration and a bit of hurt"I might be polite, I might be friendly, but I don't flirt, I never have. The fact that you accuse me of flirting with other girls when you know how much I love you is hurting me."

"Maybe not intentionally, but that's how it feels to me," you replied, your voice softening a bit. "And it hurts me too. I know you love me, but sometimes it feels like you don't see how these interactions affect me."

"Then meet me halfway," he raised his voice a bit, not quite yelling but loud enough to make you flinch a bit, "What should I do? Ignore them or be mean to them so PR can give me shit for that later? Walk around with a 'don't speak to me because my girlfriend gets jealous' sign?"

"Don't yell at me, Charles," your voice came out as barely a whisper.

"I'm not yelling at you," Charles rubbed his face with his hands before looking at you, "I'm not, baby. I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from and why you're so upset about this. I have to get ready for the race shortly and this argument doesn't look like it's ending soon."

"You know what," you threw your hands up in surrender, "Forget I said anything, okay? I'm just a jealous freak who's in the wrong here."

You walked towards the door and grabbed the handle ready to head out, but Charles pulled you by your free hand, "Amour, come on," you turned to look at him, "I'm not getting into the car while we're like this."

"Charles, I don't want to keep arguing either," you said softly, feeling the tension in the air, "I just want you to understand why I feel this way."

Charles sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I do understand, amour. I do. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like your feelings don't matter. They do. You matter more to me than anything else," he said sincerely, stepping closer to you.

You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. Despite your frustration, you knew that Charles didn't mean to hurt you. He was just caught up in the demands of his career, trying to balance his personal life with his public image.

"Go get ready for the race," you said, aware that his team would come get him any minute now, "We'll talk later, but we're okay."

You let Charles pull you closer this time, wrapping your arms around his wait and leaning forward to wrap his around your shoulders as he brought you in for a hug and pecked your head a couple of times, "I love you, okay? Don't you ever doubt that, it hurts me when you do."

"I love you too," you pulled away and pecked his lips softly, "Be safe out there, I'll see you right after."

Charles watched you leave the room, feeling a pang of regret for letting the argument escalate. He knew you were sensitive about these situations, and he hated seeing you upset. But he also felt frustrated by the accusation of flirting, especially when he believed he was just being polite.

As he got ready for the race, his mind kept drifting back to your conversation. He tried to push it aside and focus on the race ahead, but the tension lingered, affecting his concentration.

Despite the distraction, Charles managed to put in a solid performance, crossing the finish line and securing a spot on the podium. The crowd cheered as he stepped out of his car, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake off the argument with you, the hurt in your eyes haunting him.

After the podium celebrations and the interviews, Charles made his way back to the Ferrari hospitality suite. He hoped you would still be there, that you would be willing to talk and resolve things.

You were waiting for him, perched on one of the couches in the hospitality suite, your arms wrapped around yourself as you watched the post-race interviews on the screen. When Charles walked in, still in his racing suit, your eyes met and he walked towards you.

"Hey," he said softly, approaching you cautiously.

"Hey," you replied, standing up and taking a step towards him. "Congratulations on the podium."

"Thank you," he said, but there was a hesitance in his voice.

The soft look on his face was too much for you to handle, so you threw your arms around his broad shoulders and buried your face on his neck. You felt a sigh of relief leave his body and his arms come around your back.

"I hate fighting with you," you said against his neck, "Sorry for being such a brat today and almost ruining your race."

"You're not a brat, amour," Charles held you tighter, his voice gentle as he spoke, "And you didn't ruin anything. I'm sorry too for not understanding sooner."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit. "I just get so scared sometimes, seeing all those girls trying to get your attention. I know you love me, but it's hard to watch."

"I understand, and I'll try to be more mindful," Charles cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall, "I don't want you to feel like you're not my priority because you are, always."

You leaned into him again, resting your head on his chest and feeling his hand draw circles around your back, feeling the familiar comfort of his embrace.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, and eventually your lips.

"I love you, Charlie. And I know I can be a bit jealous sometimes, but it's just because I care so much about you."

"I love you too, more than anything," he replied, his voice warm and soothing, "It's kind of hot when you get all jealous and possessive, I have to admit."

You pinched his side playfully, making him squirm, "Not when it makes us fight though, I hate when we do that."

You smiled up at Charles, feeling the tension finally dissapear, "Promise me you'll try to be more aware of those situations? And if a girl gets too handsy, you'll shut it down?"

"I promise, amour. No more obliviousness on my part," Charles said, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "And I'll make sure to maintain appropriate boundaries."

"Good," you said, snuggling closer to him. "Because you're all mine, Leclerc."

"Like I said, possessive. It turns me on," Charles teased, placing his hand above your bum.

"Charles, stop!" you moved his hand away, "We're still at your workplace with all of teammates around."

"Let's get out of here, then."

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

I'm so fascinated by languages with different levels of formality built in because it immediately introduces such complex social dynamics. The social distance between people is palpable when it's built right into the language, in a way it's not really palpable in English.

So for example. I speak Spanish, and i was taught to address everyone formally unless specifically invited otherwise. People explained to me that "usted" was formal, for use with strangers, bosses, and other people you respect or are distant from, while "tú" is used most often between family and good friends.

That's pretty straightforward, but it gets interesting when you see people using "tú" as a form of address for flirting with strangers, or for picking a fight or intimidating someone. In other languages I've sometimes heard people switch to formal address with partners, friends or family to show when they are upset. That's just so interesting! You're indicating social and emotional space and hierarchy just in the words you choose to address the other person as "you"!!

Not to mention the "what form of address should I use for you...?" conversation which, idk how other people feel about it, but to me it always felt awkward as heck, like a DTR but with someone you're only just becoming comfortable with. "You can use tú with me" always felt... Weirdly intimate? Like, i am comfortable around you, i consider you a friend. Like what a vulnerable thing to say to a person. (That's probably also just a function of how i was strictly told to use formal address when i was learning. Maybe others don't feel so weird about it?)

And if you aren't going to have a conversation about it and you're just going to switch, how do you know when? If you switch too soon it might feel overly familiar and pushy but if you don't switch soon enough you might seem cold??? It's so interesting.

Anyway. As an English-speaking American (even if i can speak a bit of Spanish), i feel like i just don't have a sense for social distance and hierarchy, really, simply because there isn't really language for it in my mother tongue. The fact that others can be keenly aware of that all the time just because they have words to describe it blows my mind!

[rafecameronssl4t]

omg what about the forced marriage au! but sofia tries to flirt w rafe inspite of him being a married man infront of the reader and he sets his boundaries and makes it clear that he is only loyal to the reader

Eyes don’t lie || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: I don't think i mentioned it in the background for this au but reader and her family are practically royalty in obx. I forgot to mention this in the other fic but readers siblings from oldest to youngest is as followed: William Astoria Edward Charlotte and reader

Warnings: nothing really!!

Word count: 1,609

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Sofia’s eyes wandered around the grand ballroom, her gaze drifted appreciatively over the opulent surroundings. The architecture of the room was breathtaking, its grandeur perfectly fitting for the New Year’s Eve celebration, which was exclusive to the elite socialites of Outer Banks.

The high ceilings, adorned with sparkling chandeliers, cast a warm glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Sofia went about serving drinks to the guests, her eyes constantly scanning the crowd for a specific person. The ballroom was alive with chatter and laughter, but her attention was fixed on the grand staircase at the far end of the room.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted as the crowd’s clapping grew louder and more rhythmic. Sofia’s gaze followed the collective attention to the top of the grand staircase. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw your family make their entrance. First, your parents descended the stairs, radiating an air of effortless elegance.

They were followed by your siblings and their partners, each step meticulously coordinated, adding to the grandeur of the moment. And then, as if choreographed for a royal event, you and Rafe appeared, linked arm in arm. The sight was nothing short of breathtaking.

The way the crowd’s applause built to a crescendo as you both descended the stairs left Sofia in awe. The admiration etched on every guest’s face was palpable, a testament to the elevated status your family held. Sofia had known your family was influential, but seeing it up close was overwhelming.

The opulence and grace with which you and Rafe carried yourselves, combined with the sheer scale of the event, exceeded anything she had imagined. This elite socialite world was new to her; she had only been filling in for someone who couldn’t attend, and now she was witnessing a spectacle that felt almost surreal.

Sofia’s eyes followed you and Rafe as you navigated the room, your every movement drawing admiring glances from the guests. You both were effortlessly engaged in conversations, laughter dancing between you as you exchanged smiles. Sofia couldn’t help but notice how Rafe’s hand would rest possessively on your waist, his smile widening whenever he glanced down at you, clearly enjoying your company.

A pang of envy twisted in her stomach as she observed the closeness between you two. As the night wore on, you and Rafe made your way to the bar. Rafe took charge, ordering drinks for both of you while you chatted animatedly with your sisters. His hand lingered on the small of your back, a subtle but intimate gesture that spoke volume to Sofia.

Sofia watched this interaction with a mix of fascination and frustration. Determined to make her presence felt, Sofia stepped closer to the two from where she was behind the bar, her smile wide and her gaze fixed on Rafe. "It’s so beautiful here, isn’t it?" she said, her voice laced with a flirtatious tone.

Rafe gave a curt nod, his focus remaining squarely on you as he waits for his drinks. His body language was clear—he was fully engaged with you and had little interest in entertaining Sofia’s advances. Despite his lack of response, Sofia persisted, her smile unwavering as she tried to find another way to break through.

It was obvious to Rafe that Sofia had a liking towards him and she was not good at hiding it. Rafe’s gaze remained fixed on you, but his tone was firm and polite. “I'm just here to enjoy the evening with my wife,” he said, his words leaving little room for further flirtation. Sofia’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, trying to mask her disappointment.

“Well I hope you enjoying the rest of the party," she said, her tone still light but with a hint of frustration. Rafe offered a polite but distant smile before turning his attention back to you, his hand still resting protectively on the small of your back. Sofia, though slightly deflated by his lack of interest, couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on him throughout the night, her eyes trailing his every move.

~

As you and Rafe exchanged quiet words, you leaned in closer to him, your lips near his ear as you asked, “Do you know her?” Your tone was casual, but your curiosity was clear. Rafe’s brows furrowed slightly before he followed your gaze to where Sofia quickly averted her eyes, trying to look busy behind the bar. “Some pogue that works at the country club,” he replied flatly, his voice laced with boredom as he turned back to you.

You hummed in response, your eyes glinting with amusement. “She seems quite interested in you,” you mused, a small smirk playing on your lips as you observed Sofia’s poorly hidden attempts to steal glances at Rafe. He rolled his eyes, lifting his glass to his mouth, clearly unimpressed by the attention. “Find this amusing, do you?” he asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he took a sip of his drink.

You could see the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Very,” you replied, your smirk widening as you watched him shake his head in mock exasperation. The easy banter between you both was laced with an intimacy that only deepened Sofia’s envy as she watched from afar, her efforts to catch Rafe’s eye futile.

~

“One minute till midnight!” a voice called out from the crowd, drawing Sofia’s attention. “Get ready for your New Year’s kiss!” The cheerful voice belonged to Astoria, whose playful tone sparked laughter among the guests. Sofia’s gaze instantly zeroed in on you and Rafe, standing close together with his hand resting possessively on your lower back, subtly guiding you closer.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way Rafe seemed so effortlessly in control, his every movement a declaration of his claim on you. As the countdown began, Rafe gently turned you so that your back was to Sofia, shielding your shared moment from prying eyes. His gaze roamed over your face with an intensity that made Sofia’s chest tighten. “What are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the growing excitement.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he murmured in response, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. His breath fanned across your lips as he pulled you even closer, his touch both tender and possessive. “Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!” The room chanted in unison, voices rising in anticipation as the new year approached.

As the numbers ticked down, Rafe’s hand slid up to rest on the back of your neck, his fingers lightly grazing your jawline in a way that sent shivers down your spine. At the stroke of midnight, Sofia watched with a mixture of longing and frustration as Rafe leaned in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. The world seemed to pause for her, the moment suspended in time as she took in the sight of the man she desired so deeply kissing someone else.

A camera flash illuminated the room, capturing the intimate moment between you and Rafe as you slightly pulled away, only for Rafe to keep you close against him. His hand remained firm on your back, refusing to let the moment slip away so easily. The room erupted into celebration—confetti rained down, fireworks burst outside, and the sound of cheers and clinking glasses filled the air.

But Sofia couldn’t focus on any of it. Her eyes were locked on Rafe, whose lips remained pressed against yours even as the celebrations continued around you. Then, something shifted. Rafe’s eyes opened, and as he kissed you, his gaze lifted over your head, locking onto Sofia’s. His cool blue eyes met hers, and in that instant, she felt as though the breath had been stolen from her lungs.

But instead of the cold indifference she might have expected, there was a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t a smile of invitation; it was a silent warning. His message was clear—back off. He was telling her without words that he was loyal to you, that there was no room for anyone else. Her heart pounded wildly, the sound of it echoing in her ears as she stood frozen, unable to look away.

Sofia felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart pounding harder as she realized the intent behind his gaze. She stood frozen, unable to look away, as that smirk told her everything she needed to know. Rafe was making it clear that she was wasting her time, that his commitment was to you and you alone.

Rafe held her gaze for a moment longer, his smirk lingering as if to drive the point home, before his eyes dropped back to you. The moment you broke the kiss, a smile spread across your face as you pressed your hands against his chest, turning your attention to the fireworks outside. Only then did Rafe’s expression shift, his smirk fading into a polished, aristocratic smile as he glanced around the room.

He clapped along with the crowd, though his enthusiasm was clearly feigned. After a few seconds, he snatched a flute of champagne from a floating tray, knocking it back in one swift motion. The gesture was casual, almost dismissive, as if the exchange with Sofia had been nothing more than a brief interruption in an otherwise perfect night.

Sofia, left standing in the shadows, could only watch as the man she coveted so dearly turned away, his focus entirely on you. The pit of envy in her stomach deepened, but now mingled with a bitter understanding—Rafe’s loyalty to you was unshakeable, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

[thewulf]

Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

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[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅰ ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑜𝓁𝒻 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements explicit content, teratophilia, monster/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference, dacryphilia, ( slight?? ) somnophilia, cunnilingus, knotting. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you're invited to the bar by your bestfriend, barb. things go awry. ꒰m!werewolf ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒜s you drift in and out of a light slumber, the sudden sound of your phone jolts you awake. The room is enveloped in darkness, and a chill lingers in the air, reminding you that you forgot to close the window. You shift in bed, directing your gaze towards the nightstand, and reach out to grab your phone, squinting against its blinding brightness. Running a hand through your tousled hair, you sit up and flick on the nearby lamp, illuminating the room.

As you settle in, your eyes slowly adapt to the light, allowing you to observe your surroundings. Glancing at your phone once more, you notice the time - it's already 9:27 PM. Your friend tried calling you five times, with the first call going unanswered for ten minutes.

As you slide out of bed, you stretch your arms and legs, grimacing at the sounds of your joints cracking. You brush your hands through your hair and make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, and leaning against the sink, letting out a sigh at the sight of the bags under your eyes. Your lithe fingers gently pull at the skin under your eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Sighing, your arms drop to your side before lifting them to twist the faucet handle.

You bend down and form a makeshift bowl with your hands, sleepily awaiting the rush of water. The liquid cascades into your palms, filling them with a refreshing embrace. With a swift motion, you splash the cold water onto your face, instantly jolting your senses awake.

Huffing out a sigh, you shut off the tap, taking a brief pause to relish in the quietness of your home, before reaching for a soft hand towel to gently pat your face dry. Tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, you pivot on your heels and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind you.

Glancing around the room, you notice the scattered clothing on the floor and your disorganized dresser, and as much as you wanted to clean it, you simply lacked the motivation. Your gaze swiftly shifts away from the mess and you clear your throat.

"Hey, Alexa, Call Barb back."

As her robotic voice obediently chimes, you collapse onto your messy bed, emitting a groan in response to the piercing sound resonating in your ears. A brief moment of silence passes before you're taken aback, startled by Barb's exuberant cheer.

" Thank god! I thought you were dead! What are you doing right now?" The ambiance of music and conversation engulfs her, prompting yet another sigh from you- the nth one since you've woken up. You're now well aware of the reason for her call, but you're not in the mood to socialize or have a drink.

After all, this was your only free weekend for the next month or so; and besides, you had already planned a date with a tub of ice cream and a marathon of horror movies.

"I just woke up from a nap, where are you? It's loud."

The woman softly utters a flustered 'stop', likely to a guy she's flirting with. Barb clears her throat to hide a giggle. "I'm at a bar with Crystal and Kevin. Please come down!" The idea of socializing at that moment sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you adored Barb, her offer didn't tempt you in the slightest.

Actually, the idea of socializing at that moment sent mind-numbing shivers down your spine, and just as you were about to decline, her following words elicit a gentle chuckle from you.

"And! Before you say no, I promise I won't ask you to come to any events for the next three months." The anxiety in her voice is palpable, and it begins to chip away at your resolve, her small whine finally breaks you and with a sigh, you find yourself smiling at her proposal. "Fine, send me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. "

The place is bustling with noise and the unmistakable smell of sweat as you navigate your way to the bar. From the entrance, you catch sight of Barb's eye-catching cotton candy pink hair. She's engaged in light-hearted banter with a burly man, and although you hesitate to interrupt, you do so anyway.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, you bask in the comforting aroma that surrounds her. Barb was an absolute doll, and the instant connection you both had when introduced by a mutual friend three years ago is still strong. Barb was practically the sole reason you weren't a recluse.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she affectionately placed her hand on your cheek. "That you babe?" She turns around as she hears your approving hum, and her gaze falls upon your attire. It wasn't flashy, considering this is just a bar. Your legs are clad in mom jeans, complemented by a band tee and a pair of chunky combat boots. In contrast to Barb's tight red dress, you may seem a bit underdressed, but your intention wasn't to find a hookup tonight; you're here to catch up with Barb.

She pressed her lips together, but eventually gave in and rolled her eyes before pulling you into a warm hug, without getting up from her seat.

" Henry, this is my best friend. " she beamed at you and playfully raised her eyebrows. "Bestie, this is Henry."

You cast your eyes towards him, uninterested."Hey, how are you?"

Without waiting for his response, you plant a kiss on Barb's forehead and gesture towards the other end of the bar. "I'll grab a drink and then search for Kevin and Crystal."

Barb's lips formed a pout as she nodded, her expression turning stern. "Don't leave without telling me okay?" You acknowledged her request with a nod, waving her off and making your way to the stool at the end of the counter, collapsing onto the chair, and releasing a weary sigh.

The bartender looked at you expectantly, prompting you to bite the inside of your cheek before simply requesting water - you had no intention of drinking tonight. Your eyes flit over the bar, taking small sips from your water bottle, looking for any eye candy. Eventually, your gaze landed on a man wearing a red, dirtied beanie, his eyes lowered. He's big and burly, with dark hair covering his forearms and a thick beard.

Your heart stutters in your chest, prompting you to clench your thighs together. His sun-kissed complexion exuded an irresistible aura of feral masculine energy, that made your nipples perk up and harden. You discreetly averted your eyes, taking a gulp of water to quell the sudden and embarrassing rush of desire.

Stealing another glance, your heart skips a beat when his hazel eyes meet yours. Flustered, you quickly look away, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had just got caught ogling a sexy hunky man, and you'd probably been drooling too.

You set your water bottle on the counter and pat your cheeks with your cold hands. Gradually mustering the courage, you decide to approach the man- the intimidating but hot man who sat in a booth alone. As you prepare to stand up, you are startled to find him just a few steps away from you, gaze searing and unwavering.

Towering at 6'4, he appeared even more imposing in person, his muscles clearly defined beneath his jacket. Despite your jitters, you offer a smile and a nod in his direction. His eyes briefly leave yours, locking with the bartender's. A surge of desire courses through you, his voice is deep and velvet-smooth, and it has your stomach in knots.

"Another bourbon."

His eyes fixated on you, captivating your very being and luring you into a trance. A timid squeak escaped your lips as you retreated into your shell - he exuded an aura of sheer intimidation. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth accompanied a subtle nod, but little else. You couldn't help but feel foolish for even attempting to engage with him because even though he didn't wear an expensive suit or look well off, he was way out of your league. At least, that's how it felt.

As he grabs the glass of bourbon, he disappears into the shadows of his lonely little booth. You feel the urge to approach him but two things hold you back– one- you don't know what you would say and two– you really have to pee.

Downing the last drops of water, you bring the bottle with you to throw in the garbage can. Suddenly, you come to a halt, noticing the lengthy line forming at the restroom — that was like a thirty-minute wait, you couldn't possibly hold your pee for that long.

The longer you pondered your next move, the more your bladder seemed to betray you. Your only choice was to venture outside and take care of business in the back. You clenched your jaw, cursed under your breath, and hurried to the back door. As you made your way, you locked eyes with Barb at the bar and gestured towards your urgent need. She responded with a nod and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out into the cool night air, feeling its gentle touch on your skin.

The town may have been small, but it possessed an allure that captivated its inhabitants. It wasn't the kind of place where everyone knew each other, yet it still retained an intimate charm. Nestled at the edge of town, this bar stood amidst the endless forest that enveloped the surroundings. It was easy to get lost in there.

Into the heart of the forest, you went, careful to avoid prying eyes as you attended to your needs, wary of the consequences if caught by the property owner or law enforcement. As you made your way through the trees, the dim glow of the bar faded and you continued to walk until you had to squint to see the bar lights.

The sound of your belt coming undone echoed through the stillness of the area and you feel your skin crawl with anxiousness. You can hear the steady stream of your pee hitting the leafy-covered ground and you cringe at the loudness of the sound. After you make sure you're at least a bit dry down there, you stand and pull your pants up. As you adjust yourself, a rustle in front of you makes your heart race.

Your hands freeze at your belt buckle, a deep, low, guttural growl meets your ears and suddenly you can see golden irises looking towards you. It's a wolf. Fear grips you as you step back, trembling with terror. As your eyebrows knit together, your gaze intensifies upon the creature before you. There is no denying its identity as a wolf, yet its sheer size is awe-inspiring, towering over you. Its maw is much too big, its teeth much too large and its physique exudes strength.

What the hell were you looking at?

It takes a step forward, snarling at you. Your body quivers with nervous energy, unable to find calm, unable to focus. Without hesitation, you pivot on your foot and sprint away, your eyes scanning the surroundings with newfound intensity - every obstacle, every tree, every shadow. Uncertain if the predator is gaining on you, uncertain if more have joined in on the chase - you refuse to look back. The snarls and the sound of rapid footsteps fade momentarily. Breathing becomes difficult, and your face is flushed and covered in sweat.

Seeking refuge behind a tree, you struggle to regain composure, your heart racing wildly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Crack

Sprinting away, driven by an insatiable desire for safety, you disregard the possibility that it might not be the wolf. You suddenly experience an excruciating pain that travels up your ankle, causing an ear-piercing shriek to erupt from your throat and obscure your vision with tears.

Your skull collides with the rugged terrain, engulfing your vision in darkness for a fleeting moment. As your mind gradually regains clarity, you steal a glance at your ankle, recoiling at the sight of the weathered bear trap sinking its fangs into your flesh. Thankfully, the wound appears shallow, and you offer a silent gratitude to God.

Crunch

You lack the strength to budge, even though it's not causing any real harm; the agony is unbearable. The wolf draws nearer, yet its snarls transform into a plaintive whine. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open, as your body becomes paralyzed by the sensation of its scorching breath against your face.

It continues its advance, until it reaches your leg, eliciting a whimper from you as its jaws envelop it. Although no additional pain ensues, the sound of fabric rending fills your ears. With trepidation, you finally summon the courage to open your eyes, only to find half of your pant leg ripped away.

Crack, Crack

Bones are breaking, you can hear every crack and also see them breaking under the wolf's fur. As the wolf's fur ripples, you witness the gruesome spectacle of bones splintering beneath its skin. A sickening sensation rises in your throat, causing you to retch violently onto the verdant grass below. The cracking stops but you make no move to look again.

The searing agony dissipates, replaced by the faint rustling of metal being pried apart and discarded with a metallic clink. A rough, yet tender and moist touch glides over your wound, gradually erasing the numbness that enveloped you. The scorching pain that once tormented you is now but a distant memory.

Facing the creature, you realize it has grown even larger, standing at an impressive 9 feet tall. Its massive frame is covered in thick, dark fur, making it almost impossible to discern its true shape. The only colors visible are the glowing gold of its eyes and the pink knot nestled against your thigh. You swallow heavily and avert your eyes quickly, eyes flitting to the wolf's face.

Your heart races as you feel its large hand holding your leg, the gentle touch of its claws sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of its tongue brushing against your skin sends waves of pleasure through your body, despite the fear that grips you. His nose twitches, his eyes flicking towards you, the tension in his muscles palpable.

Your body quivers like a leaf, appearing fragile and small beneath the werewolf, so easily breakable. You can feel his cock stiffening even more, almost impossibly so. Reluctantly, you retract your leg from his grasp, edging back slowly. He watches you with intelligent eyes, tracking your every motion. Struggling to rise, you opt to flip onto your hands and knees, clutching a nearby tree for support— still uncertain of your 'healed' ankle.

There's a pressure on your waist, claws teasing your delicate hips, barely breaking the skin, and you cry out as your pants are torn from your legs, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He pauses for a moment, snout coming close to your sex before sniffing deeply. As tears cascade down your cheeks, you instinctively lash out, kicking your leg in a desperate attempt to distance yourself.

Your combat boot forcefully collides with its face, a feeble protest that is met with a mocking snort. With a single swipe of its claw, your delicate undergarments are effortlessly torn apart, leaving your hole quivering, and juices leaking without permission. Drawing nearer, its snout radiates warmth, causing you to recoil, your eyes squeezed shut. Yet, they swiftly snap open as its wide, elongated, and moist tongue begins to sensually lap at you, the roughness of its muscular appendage gently grazing your entrance and occasionally slipping inside.

Against your will, you're moaning loudly. Your eyes roll back and your lower lip is trapped between your teeth. The hand that was holding onto the tree is now on its snout, attempting to push it away. Your face is pressed into the ground, your back arched in a deliciously painful curve, and your ass is raised high in the air.

It laps at you eagerly like a thirsty dog, and you're lost in a sea of pleasure, moaning and pleading for more, despite yourself. You love every second of this, and it makes you feel disgusted with how enamored you are at what this monster's tongue is doing to you.

You're enveloped in a sea of pure white, as its tongue explores the depths of your being, gently caressing your sensitive spots and teasing your g-spot. It's tongue fucking you so well, like it possesses an intimate map of your body. Its tail sways rhythmically as your trembling thighs embrace its snout, cum dripping onto its eager tongue. Your body spasms with pleasure, and it revels in its satisfaction.

Your pussy tightens slightly, releasing your desire onto your inner thighs, playfully winking at the creature, enticing it to take you. Its hands encircle your waist, contrasting your size against it. The tip of its red cock is lined with your entrance and it finds it a bit difficult to slip the head in at first, you're a tight squeeze.

" No. No, it won't fit!" It's thick and long, and so much bigger than a normal cock, and that thought terrifies you. You shriek as it inches into you slowly, pussy stretching to attempt to accommodate its thickness. You shake your head, crawling forward and attempting to escape the overwhelming intrusion. However, its deep snarl makes you whimper and freeze.

You weakly resist one last time, wriggling your hips to stop it from completely ruining you for any other man, but as it sinks into your quivering, messy cunt, you stop struggling.

Despite the tension in its muscles, it takes its time. The beast is exceptionally thick, so its cock is heavy inside you. The drag of its bulbous tip on your g-spot has you whimpering and drooling over yourself. Abruptly its massive frame envelops you, hands firmly gripping your hips.

How ironic, a canine-like creature ravishing you in the primal position of doggy style.

With a powerful thrust, it plunges its rigid cock deep inside you, its pelvis pressing against your ass. The weighty orbs of its balls collide against your clit, brimming with cum, and despite knowing you shouldn't, you crave every drop of its hot seed.

Your sight becomes hazy, and the world around you blurs as pleasure consumes you. It's an overwhelming sensation that brings tears to your eyes. Each touch from it sends electric shocks through your body, it's touching every nerve inside of you effortlessly. Despite feeling completely satisfied, a deep craving for more remains. The desire to feel it cum inside of you.

With each thrust, a creamy white residue encircles its cock and you're not sure how you've cum so many times in such a short period, but your eager, filthy little hole is starting to feel tender and sensitive. You're whining and whimpering, a blubbering mess below it. You need more.

It starts to speed up, hips stuttering, and a whine building in its throat. With one final forceful thrust, it buries itself deep inside you. Its primal roar echoes in your ears, yet you lack the strength to shield them.

The wet, erotic sound as it pumps you full of cum makes you orgasm once more. Your poor slutty hole clenching around it. You've lost track of time since you left the bar, and you don't know how long the two of been fucking. Exhaustion washes over you, and all you desire is to return home.

However, it appears that th beast has different intentions. Suddenly, it lifts you up, positioning itself on its hindlegs, and you find yourself sitting upright on its throbbing cock. One of its hands ventures beneath your band tee, discovering your erect nipples, while the other firmly grips your hip, effortlessly thrusting you onto its shaft as if you were its own personal fleshlight. Its muzzle nuzzles against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, even though exhaustion consumes you.

–

When you came to, you were relieved to find yourself at your house, believing that maybe you had dreamt it, it couldn't have been real. But the evidence of your wild night with that beast is undeniable - the sticky puddle of cum on your sheets and the missed calls and texts from Barb serve as a tantalizing reminder. You can't remember how long he used your body for his pleasure but you do remember leaving a pool of cum where the two stayed that night. Though, one text stands out to you.

"Babe, a man came up to me earlier and said that he enjoyed you last night. WTF?! Bitch, spill."

[sarahghetti]

can you pretend to be my boyfriend?; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.

warnings: inappropriate behaviour towards the reader, female!reader.

moon knight masterlist | all masterlists

steven

you lean over the gift shop counter, eyes wide as you ask, “can you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

poor steven is just confused at first.

“pretend to be—wait, what do you mean—?”

he doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought because the man who’s been trying to flirt with you all day suddenly rounds the corner, and you’re out of time.

“there you are!” a smarmy grin, eyes looking you up and down. it makes your skin crawl. “I was worried that you might’ve left before I could get a chance to talk to you again.”

“yeah, wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” you mutter.

it clicks in steven’s brain then, though not exactly fast enough for him to come up with a retort other than, “right, yeah, right.”

the man’s attention doesn’t waver from you, however, and you squirm on the spot. time for a hail mary, you suppose, turning back to steven. “are we still good for lunch, babe?”

“oh, yes, lunch—right, of course, love,” steven nods, more confident. “I just need to finish up some last things here, if you’re willing to wait a bit?”

you’re ready to say no worries, take all the time you need when the guy scoffs, barely sparing steven a glance. “a sales clerk? really?”

“better than the wet tissue you are, bruv,” steven snaps back, so fast that he surprises himself a little. something simmers under the man’s expression, but steven’s faster. “do I need to call security?”

that finally gets to the guy, who just mutters curses under his breath before finally pissing off. your smile is genuine now when you look at steven. “thanks for that.”

“no worries—are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you nod. “don’t suppose you’re actually free right now, are you? the least I could do is buy you lunch as thanks.”

luckily for the both of you, he is, and he rounds the counter with a wide smile on his face before you lead the two of you out.

marc

he’s just waiting to place his order at a coffee shop when you walk in, some guy hot on your heels and prattling on despite your obvious discomfort.

“oh, hey, babe!” he doesn’t even realize you’re calling out to him until he meets your gaze, and the pleading look in your eyes is all he needs to understand what’s going on. “sorry I’m late.”

“it’s all good.” marc knows the drill, injecting warmth into his smile as he walks up to greet you. he gives you a small nod, letting you know that he’s got your back as he slips his hand into yours. “was worried about you for a minute there.”

“wait, are you two…?” the man looks between you, eyebrows furrowed.

“mhm.” he keeps his tone light, but is secretly watching like a hawk for any signs of escalation. when the guy’s mouth twists into a scowl, marc subtly tugs you behind him.

“you never said you had a boyfriend.” the venom in the words is terrifying, but marc doesn’t flinch.

“no need to cause a scene, man,” he says, tone amicable, but you take a peek at his face and his expression is as hard as stone. “now, if you’ll excuse us.”

marc leads you back into the line to order, squeezing your hand gently to stop you from looking over your shoulder. there’s the heavy stomping of feet before you hear the bell ring over the door as the guy leaves.

the relief is palpable. you finally let go of marc’s hand, face warm as you smile sheepishly at him. “thanks for the help. let me buy you a coffee?”

“don’t worry about it.” he shakes his head, but you offer again and, well, if you insist. he doesn’t mind spending the rest of his afternoon with you at all.

jake

he’s the one to notice your discomfort from across the pub, how you subtly shift away from the man leaning in close to speak directly into your ear.

when you meet his eyes, you mouth, help? and jake doesn’t even think twice before downing the rest of his drink and making his way to your table. he slaps a hand down onto the guy’s shoulder, making him jump. “think you’re in my seat, hombre.”

the man’s greasy smirk twitches, obviously thinking that jake is interrupting his ‘game’ or whatever the fuck. “nah, man, I’m just—”

“trying to hit on my girl, yeah, I can see that.” jake grins at him, but you get the impression that he’s baring his teeth more than anything. he looks to you, and his gaze softens. “you okay, there, baby?”

“better now,” you say, and it’s not a lie.

the guy turns to jake fully, sizing him up. “you think you’re so tough, huh?”

jake doesn’t even blink, just raises a single eyebrow as if daring for him to suggest taking the matter outside. it’s not even a competition, because the man backs off a moment later, angrily slipping out of the booth without looking back.

you don’t breathe until the guy finally leaves the building, at which point a heavy sigh falls from your lips.

“the nerve of that guy,” jake mutters, clicking his tongue.

“right?” you shake your head, then gesture to the now-vacant seat beside you. “care for a drink? I think I owe you after your help back there.”

“you owe me nothing,” he corrects, but slides in beside you anyways, taking your offer with a smile.

[raekensluver]

glasses of desire

description: walking into the office and seeing your boyfriend spencer reid in his glasses for the first time ends in a night you both will never forget.

pairing: boyfriend!spencer reid x fem!!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, unprotected sex, p in v, spencer with his glasses!!, reader and spencer flirting relentlessly, reader is feral.

song rec: 505 by arctic monkeys- "when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?"

w.c: 4.2k

an: first time writing smut?? thanks to all of the other smut writers' work i have read over the years to help me actually put this into words. this post is my official declaration of my love for spencer's glasses. also, pretend that it isn't always raining in my fics....i just love the rain.

the rain had stopped just as you stepped out of the car, leaving the sidewalks glistening with a fresh coat of water. you took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the sweet, clean scent that always followed a storm. it was a new day, a new chance to prove yourself. the bau building loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the serene quiet of the morning. you had been preparing for this moment for what felt like an eternity, and now it was finally here. the glass doors whispered open, inviting you into the bustling hub of the fbi's most elite team.

your heart raced as you stepped inside, the echo of your heels on the linoleum floor announcing your arrival. the hum of conversation and the click of keyboards grew louder as you approached the open area where the agents' desks were situated. you searched the sea of faces, looking for the one that would make your pulse quicken. and there he was, spencer reid, your boyfriend of a couple of whirlwind months. his eyes were focused on the documents in front of him, his brow furrowed in concentration. the sight of him in his element made your stomach flutter.

but something was different about him today. he was wearing glasses. it wasn't a dramatic change, but it was enough to make your legs feel a bit weaker. you had never seen him with glasses on before, and the intellectual aura they poured only served to amplify his already irresistible charm. you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face as you took in the sight of him, his brown eyes peeking over the black frames, making him look both scholarly and incredibly sexy.

your stride grew more purposeful as you approached his desk, your confidence brimming. you knew that glasses were a simple accessory, but on spencer, they were a declaration of his intelligence. you felt your own heart rate spike as you took in the way they sat on the bridge of his nose, the way they slightly magnified his eyes, making them seem even more intense than usual. it was as if the universe had conspired to make him more attractive just for you.

as you reached him, you leaned over his desk, placing your hands on either side of the keyboard and invading his personal space. "well, if it isn't dr. reid," you teased, your voice a low purr. he looked up, surprised by your sudden proximity, and you noticed the flicker of excitement in his gaze when he saw her. he was used to your flirting, but today it was more intense, more playful. "i see you're dressed to kill," you added, your eyes lingering on the glasses.

spencer blinked a few times, his cheeks flushing slightly. "just trying to see the bad guys more clearly," he quipped, trying to play it cool. but you could tell he was enjoying the attention. you leaned closer, your breath tickling his ear. "they're working for me," you murmured, before straightening up and giving him a wink. the other agents in the room had noticed the exchange, casting curious glances their way, but you didn't seem to care. the tension between you two was palpable, a silent dance of desire that had become a familiar routine.

his eyes followed you as you made your way to your own desk, the glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he watched. the rest of the team greeted you with nods and smiles, but you could feel his gaze like a warm hand on the small of your back. the nonchalance in his posture was a facade, a clever trick he played to hide the excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

once settled in your chair, you couldn't resist glancing over at him every few minutes. the way the light reflected off the lenses, the way they occasionally slipped down his nose only to be pushed back up with the tip of his finger. it was a small gesture, but it was oddly endearing. you felt your resolve to keep things professional wavering, but the thrill of the chase was too tantalizing to resist.

you decided to play it cool, burying yourself in paperwork and pretending not to notice the sly smiles that passed between the other agents. they knew about your relationship, of course, but the sight of you two flirting so openly was still a novelty. it didn't take long before the curiosity got the better of you. you stood up, stretching your legs, and made your way over to the coffee machine. as you poured yourself a cup, you felt his gaze on you. you turned and met his eyes, raising an eyebrow in question.

spencer's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he pretended to focus on his work. you knew you had him. the idea of you being attracted to his glasses was clearly flattering him, making him feel more confident than usual. it was a power dynamic you hadn't quite explored in your relationship, but one that seemed to be working in your favor today.

you sat back down at your desk, your eyes occasionally flicking back to him. every time you caught his gaze, he'd look away, only to find it drifting back to you moments later. it was a silent game of cat and mouse, and you were both enjoying the thrill of it. his shyness was adorable, a stark contrast to the fierce intellect that you knew lay behind those spectacles.

you bit your lip, trying to suppress a grin. his shyness was so endearing, it made you want to tease him even more. but you had a job to do, a place to prove yourself. so, you turned your attention to the stack of files that awaited you, but not before shooting him one more sultry glance over your shoulder.

the day passed in a blur of briefings and casework, but every so often, you'd catch spencer stealing glances at you. it was as if the glasses had unlocked a new side of him, one that was more open to your flirtations. every time he did, you'd reward him with a coy smile or a flutter of your eyelashes, keeping the tension simmering.

during a brief lull, you found yourself standing beside him, both of you pouring over a map of the city. "you know," you whispered, your voice a caress against his ear, "i've been thinking about taking you out for dinner tonight. someplace quiet where we can talk about…work."

spencer's hand paused over the map, his eyes widening slightly. "work?" he repeated, his voice a tad too high. you nodded, your smile wicked. "among other things," you added, your finger tracing a line along the edge of the frame. "like how much these glasses are turning me on."

his eyes darted around the room, making sure no one was listening in. "you're terrible," he murmured, but his mouth twitched upwards. "but also, yes. dinner sounds great."

you stepped back, giving him space, but the air between you remained charged. the rest of the day was a delicious dance of anticipation, every shared look and accidental brush of your hands sending a jolt of electricity through your body. you could feel the chemistry building, like a storm brewing on the horizon, ready to unleash its full force.

as the clock ticked closer to the end of your shift, you couldn't wait any longer. you leaned over his desk again, your hand brushing against his arm. "spencer," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think it's time we called it a day." his eyes snapped to yours, the heat in them unmistakable. "i have a feeling tonight's going to be…enlightening," you added with a wink.

his gaze lingered on your lips before he nodded, standing up. "let's go," he said, his voice a whisper. the two of you gathered your things and made your way out of the bau, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. the rain had returned, lightly misting the windows of the car as you drove to the restaurant. the soft patter against the glass created a cozy atmosphere inside, the perfect backdrop for your date.

dinner was a delicate dance of conversation and flirtation, your eyes never leaving his for long. every bite of food, every sip of wine, felt like a sensual invitation. you found yourself leaning in closer, your knees brushing under the table, as you discussed the intricacies of the latest case. spencer's eyes never left yours, his mind clearly racing with thoughts that had nothing to do with serial killers and crime scenes.

as the evening progressed, the conversation grew more personal. you shared stories from your past, the kind you had been saving for a moment just like this. stories that made him laugh, stories that made him lean in closer, his hand brushing yours as he listened intently. it was as if the glasses had given you a peek into a more vulnerable side of him, one that was eager to connect on a deeper level.

you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips as you spoke, and the urge to kiss him was almost overwhelming. the chemistry between you was palpable, a living, breathing entity that filled the small space of the restaurant booth. the air grew heavier with every shared smile, every meaningful glance.

dinner was delicious, but the real feast was the anticipation that simmered between you. the tension was so intense it was almost tangible, like a third person at the table. every touch, every shared laugh, only added fuel to the fire. by the time dessert arrived, you could hardly stand it anymore.

you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "spencer, can we get out of here?" you asked, your eyes pleading. he nodded, his own eyes dark with desire. the two of you paid the bill and practically sprinted to the car, the rain a gentle serenade to your escalating passion.

once inside, you didn't bother with the small talk. you reached over and cupped his cheek, pulling his face towards yours. your lips met in a fiery kiss, one that spoke of months of pent-up desire and the promise of what was to come. the rain grew heavier outside, the rhythm matching the beating of your hearts.

spencer's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. his glasses fogged slightly, but he didn't seem to care. if anything, it only added to the intensity of the moment. you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way he leaned into you, eager to get closer.

you pulled away, both of you breathless. "we should go," you murmured, your voice thick with need. he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. the drive to your apartment was a blur of desire, the windshield wipers slapping against the rain in a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

once inside, you didn't waste any time. you led him to the bedroom, the heat between you growing with every step. you took his glasses off, setting them gently on the nightstand. the action was almost ceremonial, as if removing them was the final barrier between you and the passion you had been holding back all day.

his eyes searched yours, questioning and hopeful. you leaned in, your breath hot against his skin. "i've wanted to do this all day," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. you kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. your hands roamed over his body, exploring every inch of him like you were learning him for the first time.

his hands followed suit, gently tracing the curves of your waist and hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. the fabric of your clothes felt like a prison, keeping you from feeling his warmth. you stepped back, breaking the kiss. "i need you," you said, your voice a hoarse whisper. without a word, spencer reached for the zipper at the back of your dress, his trembling hands a testament to his own desire.

the dress fell to the floor in a pool of fabric, revealing the matching lingerie you had chosen with him in mind. his eyes widened, taking in the sight of you. you stepped closer, placing your hands on his chest. "are you sure you're ready for this?" you asked, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

spencer swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. "more than ready," he murmured, his voice a low growl. you reached up and kissed him again, your hands sliding up to his neck, his glasses once again forgotten. the rain outside had turned into a thunderstorm, the rumble of thunder echoing the passion building within the four walls of your apartment.

you led him to the bed, the anticipation in the air so thick it was almost suffocating. the lightning outside cast a strobe-like glow, illuminating your entwined bodies in brief, electric flashes. spencer's hands roamed over your skin, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough. you moaned into his mouth, the sound lost in the symphony of the storm.

his kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled you closer. your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. the fabric fell away, revealing the taut muscles that lay beneath, a testament to his dedication to his work and his mind. you traced the lines of his chest with your fingertips, memorizing every inch of him.

his hands found the hooks of your bra, deftly releasing them with the precision of a locksmith. the fabric fell away, revealing your breasts to the cool air of the room. he groaned, his eyes raking over you with a hunger that made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. his mouth followed the path of your hands, kissing and nipping as he went.

you slid your own hands down to his belt, the leather whispering against the fabric of his pants as you unbuckled it. your heart raced as you lowered the zipper, his arousal pressing against the material. you pushed the pants down his hips, revealing his boxers, which did little to hide his desire for you. you stepped back, taking in the sight of him.

spencer's eyes never left yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. the thunder outside seemed to sync with the beating of your hearts, a natural crescendo to the passionate moment unfolding between you. you reached for him, your hands shaking slightly as you slid his boxers down, freeing him. the sight of him made your knees wobble, but you remained steadfast, eager to explore this newfound territory.

his eyes closed for a brief moment, his head falling back as you wrapped your hand around him. his skin was hot and smooth, a testament to the fire burning between you. you began to stroke him gently, feeling him pulse in your hand. he let out a low groan, his hips jerking forward. "you're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice strained with need. you felt a surge of power, knowing that you had this effect on him.

his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above the band of your panties. you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, your bodies now aligned. the rain outside had become a cacophony, the sound of the drops hitting the windowpane in a frenzied rhythm that only served to heighten the tension in the room.

his mouth traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made you shiver. you could feel his breath, hot and moist, against your skin as he moved lower. your hands found his shoulders, gripping tightly as he kissed along your collarbone. the anticipation was almost too much, a sweet torture that had you begging for release.

his fingers found the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs with a gentle tug. you stepped out of them, leaving you both fully exposed to each other. the lightning flashed again, casting an eerie glow across the room, highlighting the intensity of the moment. you straddled him, his length pressing against your core. he reached up, cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

you moaned, the sound mingling with the storm outside. "spencer," you breathed, your eyes searching his for any sign of hesitation. but all you found was a mirror of your own desire. he looked up at you, his expression a mix of awe and lust. "i want you," you whispered, positioning yourself over him.

his eyes never left yours as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, the feel of him filling you up sending waves of pleasure through your body. you gasped as he entered you, the sensation of being so completely connected to him making you feel alive in a way you hadn't in months. the thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound muffled by the pounding of your hearts.

his hands found your hips, guiding you as you began to move. the rhythm was slow at first, a gentle rocking that grew more urgent with every stroke. the lightning outside painted your bodies in stark relief, the shadows playing across your skin like a lover's caress. you leaned forward, your breasts brushing against his chest as you kissed him, your tongues dancing together.

spencer's breath hitched as you picked up the pace, his grip tightening on your hips. the storm outside was a cacophony of sound, the thunder a bass line to the symphony of your passion. the rain pounded against the windows, each drop a drumbeat that matched the rhythm of your bodies. your moans grew louder, mingling with the sounds of the tempest.

his thumbs found your clit, teasing it in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. the pleasure was almost too much to bear, a sweet agony that had you gasping for breath. you leaned into the sensation, your hips grinding against his hand as he stroked you in time with your movements. the room was a whirlwind of sensation, the smell of rain and desire heavy in the air.

the storm outside seemed to crescendo with your passion, the thunder a thunderous applause to the intimate show unfolding between you. your nails dug into his shoulders as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tightening around him. "spencer," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips.

his eyes remained locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. "i'm right here," he assured you, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate in every part of your being. you leaned down, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. the lightning flashed, casting a strobe effect over your intertwined bodies, a visual representation of the electricity that crackled between you.

his hands moved to your waist, helping to guide your movements as you rode him. every thrust sent bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, making it harder to hold back the orgasm that was building within you. the rain was a soothing lullaby, the perfect backdrop to the symphony of passion playing out in the bedroom.

you felt your climax approaching, the tension in your body coiling tighter with each stroke. your breathing grew ragged, matching the erratic beat of the storm outside. spencer's eyes never left yours, the love and desire in them making you feel seen in a way you hadn't felt in a long time. "i'm going to come," you warned him, your voice a breathless whisper.

his own eyes darkened with lust as he nodded, his hips pushing up to meet your movements. "me too," he managed to say, his voice strained. you could feel him swell inside of you, his arms tensing as he approached his peak.

you leaned back, bracing yourself on his chest, watching the play of emotions across his face. the way his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched, the way his breath caught in his throat. it was a sight you would never grow tired of, one that fueled your own desire. your hips moved faster, chasing the release that was so close you could almost taste it.

spencer's hands slid up your body, his fingers digging into your skin as he felt himself get closer. "yes," he breathed, his voice a harsh whisper. "yes, like that." you bit your lip, the sensation of his body beneath yours, his every response to your touch, pushing you closer to the precipice.

you leaned back in, your breasts brushing against his chest, the sensation sending sparks through your body. "spencer," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. "i'm…i'm almost there." his eyes snapped open, the intensity in them making your heart race. "me too," he said, his voice strained.

his hips bucked upwards, meeting your own movements with an urgency that told you he was close as well. the storm outside seemed to peak with your passion, the thunder a crescendo to the symphony of moans and gasps filling the room. the lightning flashed, painting your sweat-slicked bodies in stark contrasts of light and shadow.

his thumbs circled your clit, the pressure building until you couldn't hold back anymore. you threw your head back, crying out his name as the orgasm crashed over you. the world around you faded to white-hot pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. spencer's own release followed quickly, his body tensing beneath you as he came with a shout that was lost in the cacophony of the storm.

you collapsed onto him, both of you panting and spent. the rain continued to fall outside, the sound a gentle reminder of the tumultuous passion that had just taken place. your heart hammered in your chest, the aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing through your body.

spencer wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as if afraid to let you go. "wow," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "that was…" but he trailed off, unable to find the words. you giggled, pressing a kiss to his neck. "yeah," you agreed, your voice muffled against his skin. "that was something."

you lay there for a few moments, listening to the storm outside and the steady beat of his heart beneath you. the warmth of his body was a comfort, a stark contrast to the coolness of the rain-soaked world beyond the windows. the room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting a warm, intimate light over the two of you.

you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. they were still glazed with passion, but a hint of uncertainty had crept in. "are you okay?" you asked, stroking his cheek. he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "more than okay," he replied, his voice still a little hoarse from your earlier passion. "i just…i didn't expect it to be like that."

you leaned down to kiss him softly, tasting the salt on his skin. "neither did i," you admitted. "but i wouldn't change a single second of it." spencer's arms tightened around you, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your back. "me neither," he murmured. the storm outside had begun to die down, the rain now a gentle patter against the windows.

the moment was peaceful, a stark contrast to the passion that had just consumed you both. you felt a sense of belonging, of rightness, that you hadn't felt in a long time. it was as if the universe had conspired to bring you to this exact moment, with him.

spencer brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and loving. "i love you," he said, his voice raw with emotion. you looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "i love you too," you whispered back, the words feeling both inadequate and incredibly powerful.

his lips found yours again, the kiss gentle and reassuring. it was as if he was promising to be there, no matter what the future held for you both. the storm outside had become a gentle lullaby, the rain a comforting white noise that washed away the tension of the day.

you pulled away slightly, a smile playing on your lips. "you know," you began, your voice still a little shaky from the aftermath of your passion, "i think i'm going to enjoy seeing you in glasses a lot more often." spencer chuckled, a warm sound that rumbled through his chest. "i'll keep that in mind," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

his fingers traced the curve of your hip, his touch feather-light and reverent. the room was still, the storm outside a distant memory. you could feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath you. "i've never felt like this before," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper. "me neither," you said, your heart swelling with love for this complex, brilliant man.

you pulled the covers over you both, snuggling closer into his embrace. the bed was a cocoon of warmth and comfort, the perfect sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside. his hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a silent promise. you closed your eyes, feeling more content than you had in a long time.

[bsturnzmtt]

A fic based on Reminder by The Weeknd (angst pls) with Chris

Reminder - C. Sturniolo

Situationship

Paring: jealous!Chris x sub!Reader

Contains/warnings: situationship, orgasm control, edging, overstimulation, creampie (on the pill), spanking, degradation, very rough sex, riding, petnames, use of vibrator.

Summary: Chris flirts and fucks other girls, since you guys aren’t in a relationship you can’t really say something to him. So you decide to flirt with a guy in front of him… so he takes you home and reminds you who you really belong to.

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You have been friends with the Sturniolo triplets for some time now. You are great friends with the three of them. You guys always hangout, have fun, joke around etc. But what Matt and Nick don’t know, is that you and Chris have been hooking up for some while now. You and Chris never really talked about it, you guys would occasionally flirt when no one was around, you would exchange dirty texts, and fuck around. Nothing really serious. Since you guys aren’t really committed, Chris goes around flirting and fucking other girls too. You hate that. You hate that you feel jealous when he does that, but you cant say anything without looking like a crazy jealous girl. So you decided to give Chris a taste of his own medicine…

Tonight you and the triplets are going to get dinner. Chris has been trying to get your attention all night, but you are ignoring him. When you guys get to the restaurant Matt told you and Chris to go get a table while him and Nick try to find a parking spot. You and Chris get out of the car and start walking to the restaurant.

As you and Chris walk to the restaurant, he falls into step beside you, his body crowding yours in a way that's both intentional and unconscious. His arm brushes against yours, a deliberate touch meant to get your attention. He scoffs at his failed attempt to gain your attention. Grabbing your arm, he pulls you aside as soon as you start walking towards the restaurant. “Hey, what's your deal?”

“What do you mean?” You ask feigning confusion.

He raises an eyebrow at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the street lamps. His grip on your arm tightens, his face inches from yours. “You know what I mean.” His voice is low, tinged with a mix of annoyance and something deeper, a primal desire.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say innocently.

Chris lets out a short, humorless laugh. He leans in closer, “Don't play dumb with me.” His hot breath sends a shock of electricity down your spine. "You've been ignoring me all night, and I know you've noticed me trying to get your attention."

“Oh you were? I didn’t catch that.” You say.

Chris rolls his eyes at your response, but a slow smile spreads across his face. “Sure, you didn’t. You're a terrible liar” Chris's eyes narrow, a hint of irritation flashing across his face. “So, stop acting like you don't want anything to do with me." His voice rises, the anger and frustration palpable.

“I’m just not in the mood, yknow…” you say looking at him with a smirk. “And now if you’ll excuse me. We have to get a table.” You pull away his arm and walk to where you ask for a table, and for your luck the guy was cute. “Heyyy, could I get a table for 4? Please?” You ask with a flirty smile and playing with your hair.

Chris grits his teeth as you walk away, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as you bat your eyelashes at the cute server. His eyes darkening as he sees the flirty smile and the touch of your hand on the waiter's arm. Chris can't help but feel a surge of jealousy wash over him.

“Jack is it?” You ask as you see the waiters name tag. “That’s a cute name”

Chris watches as Jack's face lights up at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He can't help but feel a pang of irritation and annoyance as he sees you two flirting, laughing and smiling at each other. Chris's jaw clenches as you coo over the waiter's name, the possessiveness in him flaring up. He strides over to where you stand, his tall frame dominating the space. "Cute, huh?" His voice is low and menacing, dripping with sarcasm. “So… Jack. What the fuck is taking you so long to get us a table?”

“Oh- uhm right, sorry” Jack says and leads us to our table, and leaves.

You guys get to the table and sit. Chris sits next to you. Chris can't help but glower at you as you take your seats at the table, his irritation and jealousy boiling over. Once Jack is out of sight, he turns to face you, his expression darkening. "What's going on here, huh? You trying to get in his pants or something?"

You scoff “Excuse me?”

Chris leans in, his voice dropping to a low growl. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?” He tries hard to control his anger, his emotions clouding his judgment. “You were all over him back there.” He reaches out, gripping your thigh possessively under the table. “I saw how you were flirting with him, batting your eyelashes and playing with your hair.”

“Mmh you know… maybe I do want to get in his pants.” You say with a teasing smirk.

Chris's grip on your thigh tightens, anger and jealousy coursing through him. But when he’s about to say something Matt and Nick come to the table. They sit at the two sits in front of you and Chris.

"What's up, fuckers?" Chris tries to sound jovial, but you can hear the edge in his voice. Matt and Nick don't seem to notice, as they engaged in a conversation with each other. "You two order yet?" Nick asks.

“Nope, not yet.” You say.

“Let’s take a look at the menu.” Matt says. We all grab a menu and start reading through it.

“I already know what I want.” Chris says and throws the menu back at the table. You can still feel his hand on your thigh but now he is slowly moving it up.

You breathe heavily and squeeze your thighs. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick.” You say with your voice in edge. You stand up and start walking towards the bathroom.

Chris's grip on your thigh tightens, but you manage to stand up and walk away. He watches you go, his mind running wild with thoughts of what he would like to do to you if his brothers weren’t weren’t here. After a few seconds Chris decides to follow you to the bathroom. “I need to take a piss.” He say and stands up. He walks to the ladies bathroom and stands outside of the door waiting for you.

After 2 minutes you take a deep breath and open the bathroom door, ready to go back to the table and just have a nice dinner with the guys. But when you turn around, Chris is right there, standing outside of the bathroom. “Chris wha-”

Chris quickly grabs you tightly by your arm. “You’re coming with me.” He roughly says, his hot breath hitting your ear. He roughly pulls you towards the table. “Guys I’m taking y/n home, she’s not feeling well.” He says to Nick and Matt.

You looked at him confused

“Oh no what happened?” Nick asks.

“I- uhmm … I’m just not feeling very well… i think my blood pressure is low…” You say that making it up on the spot.

Chris nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Do you need us to come with? I can drive you home.” Matt says.

“Nooo, no it’s fine we’ll uber.” Chris replies.

Chris pulls you out of the restaurant and outside. He looks around for a few seconds and sees an Uber already waiting at the curb. He pushes you into the backseat of the car. The ride to your house is silent. His hand on your thigh all the time. After 10 minutes you get to your house.

Chris gets out of the Uber and looks at you with an intense gaze. He grabs your arm and practically drags you towards your house. His strong grip squeezes you a little too hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say as you two enter your house.

Chris slams the door shut behind you and pushes you up against it. He leans in close, his face inches from yours. “No. What the fuck is wrong with you!? First you ignore me all fucking night. Then you flirt with that stupid waiter in front of me!”

You scoff and push him away slightly. “Are you jealous or something?”

Chris's eyes narrow at your scoff and push. "Jealous? Of who? That waiter? He's nothing."

“Yep you’re definitely jealous.” You say with a teasing smirk.

Chris's face twists in anger, but you can see the jealousy written all over it. "Shut the fuck up," He grabs your wrist and pinches it, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to show control.

“Right, so you get to flirt and fuck with other girls but I don’t to flirt with another guy? You say.

Chris's grip on your wrist tightens slightly at the accusation. "You're mine.” His voice is low and rough, laced with a threat. "I let you flirt and be whatever you want, but you're never touching anyone else."

“I’m not yours” you say with a scoff. “And I can do whatever I want.”

Chris's eyes narrow even further, his anger growing more and more. "You are mine, whether you like it or not." he growls out. “Or maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to.” His hot breath tickling your skin as he says that.

Chris doesn't waste any time, he pulls you roughly to him, slamming his lips against yours in a forceful, possessive kiss. His tongue forces its way into your mouth. His hands roam your body, grabbing and squeezing your curves. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw a tiny bead of blood before sucking it into his mouth. His hands grab your hips roughly as he grinds against you, his hardness evident through his pants. "You're mine, and you'll fucking remember it."

Chris's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands continue to wander over your body, gripping and groping you. His arousal is growing more and more evident against your leg. He quickly picks you up and makes his way to your room throwing you on your bed. “Strip.”

You quickly start removing all your clothes. You get to your underwear, you slip of your bra and when you were about to slip out your clearly soaked panties, Chris speaks. “Stop.”

Chris's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you in just your pan. He licks his lips, his gaze roving over your body hungrily. Without a word, he reaches out and rips your soaked panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Fuck, look at you,"

You gasp at his actions.

Chris chuckles darkly at your gasp, his eyes never leaving your body. He steps forward, towering over you on the bed. "You like that, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and husky. "Getting manhandled, treated like a dirty little slut." Chris's eyes flick up to your face, expecting you to protest but seeing a spark of arousal instead, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He reaches out and rubs his hand over your wetness, grinning at your gasp again. "I love that I can make you gasp, make you lose control, make you fucking horny as hell because of me." Chris's hands cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth. He bites down hard, tugging and releasing the sensitive bud. "You're already so wet for me, dirty girl," he teases before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.

You whine at his actions. Your pussy clenching around nothing.

Chris groans at your whine, feeling his cock harden in his pants. His teasing fingers, now wet with the taste of your desire, trace down your thigh. "Look at how impatient you are, already whining and clenching with need," He moves between your legs, and his fingers trace your needy pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit in slow circles. "You like that, don't you?" he taunts, rubbing his finger against your clit. "You're so fucking wet and empty.” He stops his movements and walks over to your drawer.

You whine and frown your eyebrows as he suddenly stops. “What are you doing?” You ask.

Chris smirks, finding your whine and frown adorable, like a petulant child begging for attention. He chuckles at your reaction. He continues to dig around in your drawer, looking for something, though he won't tell you what. Finally, he holds up a pink vibrator. “I was looking for something so I can tease your wet pussy as long as I want." he replies, holding up the vibrator for you to see. His eyes stay on your face, watching your expression intensely as he flicks it on and off.

You look at your vibrator in his hands and you feel your self getting wetter. “Ho- how did you know that was there?”

Chris smirks at your reaction, enjoying how flustered and turned on he can get you. "I think you underestimate me.” He moves back over to the bed, letting the vibrator trail lightly over your bare thighs. Your body's reaction to the toy in his hands makes Chris chuckle, his eyes glinting with an amused and lust-filled gaze. "I have my ways, dirty girl," he smirks, bringing the pink vibrator towards your dripping wet pussy.

“Mmh fuck” you moan.

Chris's smirk widens at your dirty mouth, feeling his own cock twitch in his pants at how much you want him. He moves the vibrator towards your clit, tracing it lightly and teasingly. "You like that, dirty whore?" You moan and nod. "Fuck, you're soaked." he growls, rubbing the tip of the vibrator over your clit, making you whine and writhe in need.

“Mmhp Chris” you moan as your head leans back.

Chris grins at your submission, feeling a surge of power and desire. He watches your head fall back, a low groan escaping his own lips at the sight of your pleasure. Hearing his name moaned from your lips only makes him more crazy for you, his own cock painfully hard and swollen in his pants. He continues to tease your clit with the vibrator, moving it in slow, deliberate circles. His free hand moves to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple roughly. "You like that, you needy little slut?"

“Fuck yes Chris”

The dirty talk only fuels Chris's desire for you further, his swollen cock twitching in his pants. "Fuck, yes you do." Chris groans back, pinching your nipple tighter and quickening the pace of the vibrator on your clit. “You don’t get to cum until I tell you to.”

You whine. “W-what?”

Chris grins sadistically at your whimper as he slows down the vibrator again, his free hand moving from your breast to grip your throat lightly. "I said no cumming until I give you permission, slut," He growls. "You'll take what I give you and beg for more." Chris pulls the vibrator away from your needy clit, making you whine in protest. "I control when you cum, not the other way around. Now begging for it." He commands.

“Chris mmh please” you beg.

Chris smirks wickedly at your begging, his cock throbbing in response to your pleading voice. "You want this, slut?" he asks teasingly, brushing the tip of the vibrator over your clit again, earning him a loud whine. "mmh fuck” you moan. Chris sees your eyes glazed with need and desire, and he knows he has you right where he wants you.

He moves the vibrator in slow, deliberate circles around your clit. "Beg for it, slut." He demands again, his voice low and husky. Chris grins in satisfaction as he feels your body tensing up, ready to explode. He pulls the vibrator away from your clit again, just as you were about to cum. "I didn't say you could cum yet." He says firmly, enjoying the sight of your frustration.

“Mmhp Chris mmh fuck please” you desperately beg.

Chris chuckles darkly at your desperation, his own cock twitching in his pants. He can see how much you want this, and he loves it. "Do you think you deserve to cum, slut?" He taunts, brushing the vibrator against your clit again.

“Ahhh fuck” you moan.

"Such a greedy little slut," He teases, pinching your clit between the vibrator and his thumb, making you buck and moan. then he brings back the vibrator to your clit and applying more pressure.

You’re feeling too much pleasure and cant take it anymore so you cum.

Chris's eyes widen slightly in surprise as you climax, your body shaking and convulsing with pleasure under his touch. "Fucking slut. Did I say you could cum?" he growls, keeping the vibrator pressed against your still-sensitized clit, drawing out your orgasm for as long as he can.

Chris smirks at you, satisfied with making you cum and also making you break his rules. Chris abruptly pulls the vibrator away from your oversensitive clit. He throws the device onto the nightstand, the vibrations dying out. Chris smirks at your lack of response. "Slutty little girl, didn't I ask you a question?" He grabs you by your throat.

“I-.. Chris im sorry… I just couldn’t… I cou-”

Chris squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. "I didn't ask for excuses, slut" Chris growls out, squeezing your throat as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Couldn't control yourself? Couldn't do as you were told?" His hand goes down to your drenched pussy. "Look at the mess you made."

“Mmh I’m so sorry Chris” you say.

Chris tightens his grip around your throat, his fingers digging into your flesh. "You should be sorry, slut. You disobeyed me," he hisses, his other hand roughly spreading your pussy lips apart to inspect the mess you made. Chris releases your throat and grabs a hold of your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. He sees the regret in your eyes he smiles evilly. "You know what happens when you don't do as you're told? You get punished."

As you are about to say something, Chris says “On all fours, slut”

He pushes you onto your hands and knees, forcing your back arched and presenting your ass to him. “Count.” He roughly says before spanking you in the ass.

You feel a sting of pain as he does that. “Ahhh… one” you barely say.

Chris smirks as he delivers another stinging slap to your ass. "Two," he counts out, his palm landing with a loud crack on your vulnerable flesh. He continues this rhythm, each spank more forceful than the last, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Three, four, five.”

He stops spanking you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Feeling the burn, slut?" He continues to speak but his tone becomes aggressive, "You need something to focus on besides the pain? How about my thick cock slamming into that wet cunt of yours?

“Mhm please Chris.” You eagerly nod.

He takes your desperation and grins at you, standing up once again. He guides his cock to the entrance of your needy hole, pushing inside with a sharp groan. He begins to thrust rapidly, taking all the force and aggression out on your body as he slams into you again and again.

“Oh fuck Chris” you moan.

Chris grips your hips tightly, driving into you so hard that each thrust sends a wave of pleasure and pain through your entire body. You can hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as he continues to rut into you like an animal. "That's it, whore. Take all of me," He slams into you harder as he picks up speed. Chris reaches around and pinches your clit, rubbing it in time with his relentless thrusts.

“Mmhp Chris Im going to cum”

He smirks when he hears you, clearly on the edge of release. "Cum for me, bitch." He demands, slamming his hips against yours as his fingers continue to rub at your tight little clit.

“Mmh oh my god” you scream as you cum.

Chris grunts as he feels your walls clench around him, your orgasm milking his cock. He thrusts a few more times before burying himself deep inside you, his hot seed pumping into your spasming pussy. He stays buried inside for a few moments before pulling out, his cum dripping down your thighs. "Oh fuck, yeah”

You fall on the bed tired from your previous orgasms.

Chris chuckles as he watches you collapse onto the bed, finally spent from his aggressive fucking. He admires the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy and smirks. He smirks and gives his cock a few more experimental thrusts, still hard after making you orgasm so many times. He walks over to the bed and pulls you up to sit against the headboard, his hard cock still out and dripping with your juices. He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Hope you don’t think we’re done here.”

“What?… Chris I-”

Chris cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he continues to hold your chin in his dominant grip. His other hand sneaks down to your aching, abused pussy, a finger slipping inside to tease your sensitive insides. When he breaks the kiss, he pulls back and smirks at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You didn't think you were getting out of here that easy, did you? Not after what you did tonight." He moves you further into the bed and sits next to you, his head against the headboard. “Come ride me, slut.”

Chris's gaze never leaves yours as he waits for you to comply. He gives your pussy another teasing stroke with his finger, making sure you know he's not done playing with you yet. "Get on top, whore. I want to see that tight little cunt of yours wrapped around my cock again."

You sit up and barely got on his lap because of how weak your legs are.

Chris smirks as you struggle to obey his command, your legs weak from all the orgasms he's given you. He takes full advantage of your weakened state, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you up to straddle his lap. He grabs your hips, sliding you onto his cock with a groan. "Fuck, just like that.”

“Oh fuck Chris.” You let out a whiny moan feeling overstimulated.

Chris chuckles darkly at your whiny moan, clearly enjoying how overstimulated you are. He holds your hips firmly, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "You like that, don't you, slut? Feeling stuffed full of my cock."

“Mmhp mmh” your mind can’t even puzzle any words to say.

Chris laughs at your incoherent moans, clearly pleased with the effect he's having on you. He picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster as he holds your hips in a vice-like grip. "Take it, whore. Take every inch of my cock like a good little slut."

“Ahhh Mmhp Chris I.. I can’t.” You moan. “Fuck im going to cum” you let out.

Chris smirks as he hears you moaning his name and begging for release. He thrusts harder and faster, determined to make you explode with pleasure again. "You're gonna cum for me again, aren't you, slut? Say my name as you cum all over my cock."

“Mmhp Chris ahh” you cum.

Chris feels your pussy clench around his cock as you cum, your juices gushing out to coat his shaft. He groans at the sensation, his own orgasm building rapidly. "Fuck, that's it, cum all over my cock like the dirty little slut you are."

Your head falls onto his shoulder, feeling overstimulated and tired.

Chris chuckles at your tired and overstimulated state. "You think you're done, huh? He smirks, still rock-hard inside you.

“Chris… im tired” you say

“Tired, mh?” He smirks and lets go of your hips. “Go ahead and get up. Slut” he says.

Feeling overstimulated and weak, you start to pull yourself up.

Just as the tip your tight pussy he slams you back down again.

You let out a scream feeling a jolt through your body.

Chris laughs at the scream, clearly enjoying your shock and pain mixed with pleasure. "That's right, scream for me, whore." He grunts, picking up the pace again. "I said take every inch of my cock like a good little slut." He thrusts his hips harder, plunging his dick deeper into your needy hole. “I'll show you what it truly means to be overstimulated, slut."

You let out whines and moans of pain and pleasure, your brain barely functioning anymore. You feel yourself close after 5 seconds. “Ahh Mmhp I-“ you squirt all over his cock.

Chris grunts as he still pounds into you, feeling you spasm around his cock, your juices spilling out over his shaft as you squirt again and again,feeling overloaded and overwhelmed. "Fuck, take it all, you dirty cum-slut," With a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and erupts, flooding your insides with his hot cum. “Get off already, slut.”

Again you start to pull your self up, and again he slams you down.

Chris smirks at you, slamming you down on his length again and again. "Just stay down there, slut. Stay juicy around my dick." Chris smirks. He's so turned on right now, he won't even leave you a moment to recover. His hands hold your hips still being deep balls inside you. “Oh fuck.” Chris growls low and dark as his cock twitches with each spurt of cum he fires into your pussy, making sure you take every last drop before pulling out, smacking your ass again.

You let out a final moan and fall onto the bed.

Chris watches as you fall back onto the bed, spent and exhausted from the relentless pounding. He smirks, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having taken you to the edge and beyond. “I hope it’s clear who you belong to.” He leans in and grabs your jaw. “You belong to me and only me. Got it?”

You nod in response feeling exhausted.

Chris gives your face a rough, possessive kiss before pulling away. He looks down at your body, still splayed out on the sheets with his cum leaking out of your used pussy. “And know you know. Every time you try to forget who l am…I'll be right there to remind you again.”

With that said pulls the bed covers over you letting you pass out. He walks to the bathroom grabbing some towels. He comes back and cleans you. Once he’s done he gives you a small forehead kiss and whispers “all mine” with a smile. He lays on the bed next to you and cuddling you up. And falls asleep…

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TYSM for 250 followers!! I’m sooo so happy and grateful ❤️

Hope you guys like this fic! This is my first Chris fic! And also first request I do

Also Ty ❤️ for 400 notes on my fic “that’s what friends are for” 💕

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(I tried tagging all that commented but idk why when I put the usernames it says ‘no blogs found’ :( sorry)

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[bleedingoptimism]

part one -> 📱💞🚙

The first video goes viral. They get a lot of new traffic on their page, and half of it gets curious about their music, and half of the curious ones even become fans. So the series is already a success with only one video out. 

In the second video, Eddie, still blushing but smiling cheekily introduces Steve, who is all smiles and sunshine wrapped up in muscle and tan skin and people eat it up.

Then the actual process begins, and it's genuinely informative and quite good, Steve really knows what he's doing and he seems to have a passion for it that makes his eyes shine whenever he's explaining to Eddie what they are doing and what for.

It’s also fairly comedic, the series. Eddie keeps tripping all over his own feet making funny remarks to make Steve laugh. They both work on the van, because Eddie wants to get his hands dirty too, so Steve stays close behind, whispering instructions and murmuring praises while he works that have Eddie sweating and blushing from things that are completely unrelated to the manual labor and looking at the camera like he’s in the office.

It becomes kind of a thing because Eddie knows Steve doesn't watch the videos and everyone already knows from the first video that Eddie has a little crush on him. So he thinks it is just innocent fun that when Steve is working and Eddie has the phone in his hands instead of the tripod, he sometimes zooms on his back, his arms, the sweat on his neck, and then back to his face, sighing and shaking his head slowly.

TikTokers even start shipping them, saying Eddie has very clear cat energy and Steve is the most golden retriever boyfriend-coded man on the planet.

But something shifts as the videos go on, Eddie’s quips are less jokey and more just pure admiration for Steve’s work. When they film a time-lapse the audience can see them working together, bumping shoulders, Steve looking at Eddie and looking away when Eddie looks at him. And when Eddie is filming there are no more jokes about him pining on camera. It is just scenes of Steve laughing, or just smiling, working while he whistles. Zooms of his eyes, his nose, the highlights on his hair, the way the moles on his cheek move when he smiles crookedly at something dumb Eddie says.

The whole series becomes a documentary about how Eddie fell in love with Steve and then… it's complete. It's done. The van is finished. Eddie films one last video thanking Steve for everything, and making one last flirty joke about taking him for a ride. Steve laughs and runs a hand through his hair, telling Eddie he’s welcome. And that is it. The series is done. 

It drives everyone insane because they love it of course, but also. Because it seems… unfinished. It's kind of a mess, Corroded fans are fighting the shippers and the shippers are accusing Eddie of queer bating, which he thinks it's fuckin hilarious and sad because it's his literal life they are talking about. 

But the truth is, there’s nothing more to tell. They had a real conversation after Eddie stopped filming, a proper thanks and hug goodbye. And then Steve just left. He never made a move. And Eddie tried, he really tried. He insinuated, flirted, complimented. But Steve was either not interested or completely clueless (probably because of how uninterested he was).

And now Eddie has a beautiful van, completely equipped for two people to travel in style. And no one to share it with. So he stays at home, wrapped up in a blanket and watching the comments on his tiktoks, laughing and then crying with the way people describe how palpable their chemistry is. And he misses Steve. He keens, he pins, he craves.

part three ->📱💞🚙

☕🥐💕 coffee? by the side of the road?