#with the thought that I had control I’d be able to stop

[ghostickle]

Gotta stop thinking “just once won’t hurt” cause it in fact will

[sleepynoons]

alhaitham x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: omegaverse (alpha!alhaitham + omega!reader), heat, knotting, massive massive MASSIVE breeding kink, impregnation kink, size kink, slight sadism/masochism (more masochism if anything), mentions of pain + hurt, marking + biting, fingering, squirting, unintentional edging (receiving), allusions to dubcon + objectification (but none of it actually), slight nipple play, implied marathon sex

notes: sighs,,, idk how i ended up convincing myself to write omegaverse,,, but i really had a lot of fun with this,,, anyway, i love being an alhaitham fucker, and i love it even more when he loses it and can't be his usual put-together self. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.

edit: 700+ notes?? y’all :((( i’m v touched and also cracking up lol omegaverse ig checks out - but tyssssm for all the love!! reminders that requests are still open (pls read my rules), and i’d love to have moots/anons!!!!

edit x2: 1,000+ notes... y'all... this is a massive milestone for me to hit - thank you so much for all the love on this lil drabble!! there's no amount of words that can describe how grateful i am, truly.

“ALHAITHAM, FASTER!”

you’re whining, sobbing, desperately begging your lover. anything will do – he can even just lie back and let you bounce up and down on his cock. but you’re only in such a frenzied, lucid state because of your heat. alhaitham, on the other hand, is a few weeks out from his next rut, which means he is able to think about what’s rationally best for you.

you’re infuriated. you need more. you need him to mount onto you, pounding and thrusting into you until you’re screaming for him to stop, and even then, he’ll continue to push you over the edge over and over again until you’re a sticky, fucked out doll. the fire in your belly is burning so passionately, and while you would say something snarky or sarcastic to rile alhaitham up, you can barely carry a thought and can only dig your fingernails into his biceps to convey your impatience.

your lover grunts at the piercing sensation and, through gritted teeth, says, “you just started your heat. rushing through it will only hurt you and lengthen your recovery process.”

you groan at his response, overtly dissatisfied and restless. alhaitham’s response is… it’s just so typical of him. he’s detail-oriented, almost scientific in the way he takes care of you. this isn’t your first heat with him, and he’s learned from prior experiences how to ensure your safety and comfort. in fact, the two of you now follow a procedure to prepare for your heat that consists of: gathering all of your favorite snacks and drinks; washing and prepping all of the pillows, clothes, and blankets you’ll need for your nest; and most importantly, figuring out a polite way of telling kaveh that he’s getting “sexiled.”

but this is overkill, you scream in your head. in missionary, alhaitham is going at a steady pace, but what he doesn’t know and can’t feel is that he’s edging you. he’s fanning the flames of your arousal yet never helping you reach the peak. he’s stimulating you at your most sensitive spots and parts, but it’s not enough for your release. he’s torturing you, and he can’t even tell.

“alhaitham,” you cry out for the nth time. “please, please, please! i can’t take it anymore! i just - i need your cock! i need to cum! please, please, i beg you, i promise you i’ll be fine! alhaitham!”

you’re breaking down into tears. by instinct, your body releases more of your scent, and somewhere beyond your crying, your lover takes a deep inhale.

while alhaitham isn’t in his rut, that doesn’t mean he can’t lose control. he hopes you know that he’s doing his best for you, that he’s holding onto the last shreds of his willpower because, if otherwise, he doesn’t know what will become of you. he’s so much bigger, stronger, sturdier than you are, towering over you in both size and strength. he can be painfully forceful, and inflicting pain upon you is the last thing he wants to do.

but you’re sobbing uncontrollably. you’re defenseless yet pleading him to take you roughly, to break in your pussy with his heavy, leaking cock. you want him to use his force to placate your insatiable heat. you need him to overpower you.

he releases a long, shuddering sigh. he attempts to rationalize, consider the potential repercussions of giving in. but he soon realizes he can’t think. your addicting, heady scent, combined with the beautiful sounds of your moans and whimpers, are rendering his mind empty.

it’s pointless. he growls, “you asked for this.”

one second you’re weeping, and the next all of the air inside you is knocked out by a sudden, harsh thrust from alhaitham. he’s going so fast and hard now, cock head brushing against your womb while his balls and knot slap against your asshole. you feel your toes curl at the feeling of being split apart, and your mouth parts to voice salacious moans.

this is what you wanted. you feel your body relax. you just have to take it, take his fat cock bullying your cunt open, take his harsh bites and teething at your nipples, take his seed until you’re filled to the brim. in your mind, all you can think is, you’re his, you’re alhaitham’s, he wants you. the omega in you croons happily, and you’re every bit as delighted as well.

alhaitham grips onto your wrists tightly as he shoves himself into your tight, sticky walls over and over again. at one point, he flips you over, commanding you to raise your ass up higher. as he holds onto your hips, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle as he pounds into you, and he wants to lick down the beautiful curve of your back. you’re doing your best to stifle your screams because somehow, your lover is reaching even deeper, and the scraping of your breasts against the bedsheets is driving you mad.

then, you feel one of alhaitham’s hands reach down, brushing against the fat of your thighs. it’s inching dangerously close to your throbbing clit, and heat rushes up to your face.

“wait, alhaitham, no –“ 

your lover pinches your yearning bud, and you scream. wetness gushing everywhere, you’re squirting and creaming, white cum staining your lover’s cock and leaking out of your pussy. your eyes roll back, and you’ve lost all ability to control your body, which is absolutely shaking as alhaitham continue to rub and flick at your clit as he tries to squeeze his knot into your fluttering hole.

“oh, archons! alhaitham! stop! no, no, it’s too much! it can’t fit!”

alhaitham, still teasing and toying with your pussy, leans over and snarls into your ear, “you were just saying you wanted more. now you can’t take it?”

you’re wailing. you feel as if you’re being ripped apart at the seams. but the thought of alhaitham’s knot is just too delicious to pass on, so you don’t complain anymore. you just accept the waves of pain and pleasure that crash over you as alhaitham finally locks his knot inside you and bites down on your neck.

your lover groans loudly, lost in his delirium as well. after a few more shallow grinds, he reaches his own high, and you feel rope after rope of his cum fill you up. alhaitham’s cum is so warm and gooey and thick that you’re drooling and slobbering over the pillows at being filled up so thoroughly – impregnated – with it.

even as he’s still cumming, alhaitham bites on the shell of your ear and commands, “keep up, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

you can only whimper and fist the blankets even tighter at his command, bracing yourself for the next round.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

austrailian kisses (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x reader , pornstar!daniel x reader

summary: you take seb’s advice to broaden your horizons and spend some time with his austrailian friend

notes: this may be the filthiest thing i’ve ever written.

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! bondage, oral (f receiving), sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation

prev part next part

You were hesitant to text Daniel. How were you meant to go about this? Should you just come out with it and ask to collaborate with him? He did say he was a fan, but he just being nice?

You swallow your nerves and shoot him a text saying hello and introducing yourself.

To Daniel

Hey Daniel, it’s Y/n, the girl that Sebastian was filming with last week. He gave me your phone number so that I could message you.

I was wondering if you wanted to try to film something together? If not, I get it. It was nice meeting you the other day.

You throw your phone to the other side of your bed and bury your face in your hands. How was Sebastian able to be so confident when he asked you to collaborate?

A few minutes later your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a notification.

From Daniel

Hey Y/n, of course I remember you, I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan. I’d love to work on something with you.

You let out a breath then text him back, making plans to meet in person.

You felt odd, waiting for Daniel at a cafe. Your mind flashed back to the nerves you had when meeting Sebastian for the first time, how he was effortlessly charming, and so easy to fall for. You shake the thoughts out of your head. You’re doing this to move on, to forget about Sebastian.

Daniel comes in wearing a cream colored hoodie with jeans, and a baseball cap over his head. He grins when he sees you. You reach a hand out to shake his, he grabs it pulling you into a hug.

He’s got a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes are bright and warm. He pays for your drink and a few pastries for you to share, scoffing when you try to pull your own wallet out to pay.

“Don’t even try it sweetheart.” He smiles, handing the cashier his card.

Daniel is different than you thought he’d be. He’s always so controlling and commanding in his videos, but in person he’s all smiles and soft touches. He’s sunshine personified.

“Have you seen my stuff?” He asks when there’s a break in the conversation. “I watched your videos with Seb, and I feel like I should tell you I’m a lot more… dominant… than he is.”

You feel a thrill run through you at his words. “I’ve seen your videos.” You nod. “But I want that. I want what Sebastian couldn’t give me.” You ignore the double meaning in your words.

Daniel smirks. “Alright then sweetheart.”

You make plans to go back to the studio to film the next day. You feel odd getting ready. Knowing that soon someone will start knocking on your door, but it won’t be the blonde German you’ve grown accustomed to.

You scold yourself for hoping to see Sebastian when you do hear knocking, and feel a little disappointed when you see Daniel standing at your door.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

You nod, walking with him to his car. The ride is silent. You spend a good portion of it staring out the window, while Daniel keeps glancing over at you.

He sighs. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

“No, no, I want to.” You reassure him.

“If you ever feel uncomfortable, remember the safe word. We’ll stop immediately, no questions asked.” He reminds you.

He helps you out of his car, and guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. You feel your heart sink when he takes you to the room you had filmed Sebastian’s video in.

He looks down at you as he feels you tense up next to him. “Is this okay? We can go somewhere else if you want-”

“No. It’s fine.” You cut him off. “Let’s set up your camera.”

He gives you a hesitant nod, pulling out his camera and tripod from his bag.

“Alright, let’s get started.” You say once he’s finished setting up.

Daniel can tell something is off. You seem uncomfortable in this room, so he decides to try to use his charm to lighten the mood.

“Have you ever had an Australian kiss before?” He asks.

“What’s an Australian kiss?”

“It’s like a French kiss, but it’s down under.” He smirks as you feel your face warm up.

He pulls you clothes off of you, letting his hands wander each new expanse of skin that’s revealed. He takes your arms carefully to tie them up behind you. He tugs on the restraints, then lays you down, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable. He plays with your breasts before moving down to rest between your legs. He pulls them apart and softly strokes your folds.

“Look at how pretty you are.” He softly presses his thumb against your clit, pulling a gasp from you. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you bunny?”

You feel a pain in your chest at the nickname, the one given to you by Sebastian, now being used by Daniel, but that’s quickly forgotten when you feel his finger slowly push inside you. You moan, lifting your hips up at the intrusion.

“Aww, such a needy little thing.” Daniel murmurs as he starts to curl his finger inside you. He pushes a second one inside you, his thick digits spreading you open further for him.

He stills his fingers in you, and smirks when you whine. “I know bunny, so desperate to get fucked? Why don’t you fuck yourself on my fingers.” He coos.

You rock your hips against his hand, hands gripping the bedsheets under you. You falter when his palm brushes against your clit, slowing the rhythm you created.

“You can’t get yourself off, can you? Do you need me to help you cum?”

“Yes, please!” You whine.

“I don’t believe you bunny. Beg me.”

You plead with him, your words falling out of your mouth quickly, desperate for him to make you cum.

He curls his fingers again once he’s satisfied, now fucking you roughly with them. He leans down and takes your clit in his mouth, rolling it against his tongue.

He feels you clench around his fingers and pulls himself away from your clit. “You’re so tight bunny, are you ready to cum?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, please make me cum, please!”

He takes your clit back in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. You feel yourself practically thrown over the edge as your orgasm hits you.

Daniel pulls his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. He takes everything you give him, slurping obscenely from your cunt.

Just as you feel yourself start to come down from your high, he pushes his tongue back inside you. You let out a loud moan that turns into a whine as you feel his nose brush against your clit.

“C’mon bunny, you were just begging me to make you cum a second ago, isn’t this what you want?” He doesn’t wait for your response before he throws your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between them again.

He moans against your core, and looks up at you. “You taste delicious bunny.”

You feel a second orgasm quickly approaching, and before you can warn Daniel, you feel yourself release on his tongue.

Daniel licks up your cum, but pulls away shaking his head.

“Did I tell you that you could cum?” He asks. When you don’t answer, mind still a little fuzzy from your climax, he lands a sharp slap to your clit.

You yelp, attempting to pull your hips away from him.

“Don’t try and run away. I asked you a question bunny. Did I say you could cum?” He stands up now, practically towering over you.

“No, you didn’t.” You say, your eyes welling up with tears.

“Then I think I need to punish you. Turn you back into a good little bunny.” He says.

He steps away, leaving you wiggling around on the bed. You close your legs, feeling your release spread over your thighs.

When he comes back he holds a black vibrator in one hand, and tape in the other. He rests the toy against your thigh, making sure the head presses against your clit. He tapes it to you, making sure it’s secure.

“Remember the safe word?” He whispers in your ear.

“Yes Daniel.” You whisper back.

He nods before turning it on to the lowest setting.

You whine, twisting your hips around in an attempt to move away from the vibrations.

“You wanted to cum so bad, so now you’re going to cum until I’m finished watching you.” Daniel moves behind the camera, watching you through the viewfinder.

You lose count of how many orgasms you have, you mind far too cloudy to keep track. With every one Daniel walks back over to you and turns the vibrator up one setting, until it’s buzzing is arguably just as loud as your moans.

“I can’t- I can’t! No more, please!” You thrash, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain between your legs.

“C’mon bunny, give me one more good one, and I’ll stop it.” Daniel coaxes.

He doesn’t have to wait long for your past orgasm to shoot through you, your vision almost blackening out.

Daniel reaches out to turn the vibrator off, then pulls the camera off the tripod and walking over to you. He pulls your legs apart to show the camera the mess you’ve made, then pans it up to see your face. You struggle to keep your eyes open, you’ve got a sheen of sweat over your body, and your hair lays in a mess around your head.

Daniel softly strokes your cheek, smiling when you lean into his touch. “You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

You flush at his praise, and give the camera a lazy smile.

He shuts the camera off, then gently lifts you to sit up. He leans you against his chest as he reaches behind you to untie your hands. Next he softly pulls the tape and vibrator off your leg.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I sweetheart?” He asks, the smiley soft Daniel back immediately.

You shake your head. “No, that was so much fun.” You turn to get up, wincing at the feeling between your legs.

“Here.” Daniel grabs a towel, wiping off your legs.

He helps you stand up, you lean against him for balance, your legs shaking like a newborn deer.

“I’ve got you.” He says as he helps you get dressed.

You walk back to his car with his arm around your waist, whether it’s to help your balance or just affection after your previous activities you don’t know, but you have to admit to yourself that it does feel nice.

He keeps chatting with you in the car in an attempt to keep you awake and aware. You furrow your brows when he passes your home.

“Daniel, where are we going?”

“I’m going to take you to get some food sweetheart.” He says as if it’s obvious.

He parks his car outside an old looking diner. He rushes over to your side to open the door for you, and again wraps an arm around your waist.

“Get ready for the best meal of your life.”

He guides you inside, greeting a few of the workers as he walks over to a small table in the corner and pulls out a chair for you.

“Hello Daniel, and who is this pretty little thing you brought with you?” An older woman asks as she places menus down for you.

Daniel answers her question before you can. “This is Y/n. Y/n, this is Dorothy.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n, I hope Daniel is treating you well?” She raises her brows at you.

You laugh and nod. “Yes, he’s been very sweet.”

“I’m glad, you know he’s never actually brought a girl here with him before.” She winks at you.

“Dorothy!” He exclaims, his cheeks now tinted a soft pink.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back in a few to take your order.” She smiles as she leaves.

You smile over at Daniel. “So you don’t bring all the girls you film with here?”

He can’t hide his smile as he shakes his head. “Only the ones I really like.”

You wince but laugh at his answer.

“No, I’m sorry, that was bad.” He laughs with you.

“It was. But it was cute.” You tell him as you look down at your menu.

Daniel grins looking down at his.

You spend your meal laughing with Daniel, well more with Dorothy telling you stories about the Australian sitting across from you, as Daniel tries to get your focus back on him by reaching over the table to interlock your fingers with his.

He pays for your meal once again, claiming that your money was no good here, then walks you back to his car.

The night has brought a cool breeze with it, creating goosebumps across your bare arms. Daniel feels you shiver beside him, and whips off his hoodie. He pulls it down over you before you can protest.

The drive back to your home is filled with silence once again, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. Daniel’s music plays softly in the background, you can occasionally hear him humming softly.

You feel a sense of calm wash over you, being wrapped up in Daniel’s hoodie. His hand rests against your thigh, his thumb brushing soft circles against it.

So, this is what it feels like to be wanted? It feels nice. You think to yourself as you watch the streetlights pass by.

[zriasstuff]

Slytherin boys x reader (kinky shit vol.2)

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, orgasm denial kink (?), not proof read, long lost trashy & horny draft from my wattpad era (a moment of silence for that), cringe, enjoy ?

(not that anyone rlly cares, but i thought I’d at least pull this out since i haven’t posted actual writing in 1,5 weeks, vol.1 in case you’re curious)

Mattheo Riddle:

Mattheo was incredibly skilled with his mouth, knowing just where to flick his tongue and how hard to suck on your clit to make you melt. Shaking and squirming, you’d grab onto his curly hair, and he would hold your thighs over his shoulders and bury his face deep within your sweet cunt. Always licking up every drip coming from your precious cunt and sucking his fingers clean after stretching you out.

Eventually he figured that he could make you even needier by removing himself for a few seconds. In response you would desperately pull his head closer to your cunt and whine him “don’t you dare fucking stop now”, but he’d just tease your entrance by slowly licking stripes, so you wouldn’t be able to reach your climax.

It was torture, yet you have to admit he made it worth it. “Please Matty keep going”, you’d plea, “plea- please just pleasee”, you’d just repeat that as often as you could, but he enjoyed seeing you on edge.

Tom Riddle:

It’s his favorite form of punishing you for when you act bratty towards him, or when he’s in an angry mood in general, which is quite frequently. His practice of orgasm denial involves painstakingly long teasing until your cunt is all worn out and until you basically can’t think properly anymore. All your thoughts just revolve around one thing, riding out your orgasm completely without feeling as if something was being ripped away from you instead. Tom always fucks you first, pulling out just when you’re about to cum. Instead he releases himself all over your thighs, and leaves you to your own devices. The more needy you become, the longer he’ll torture you to see your breaking point. He has a dildo his size, which he’ll fuck you with, always pulling out just when you’re about to cum. It was an endless circle, even bringing out tears in you because it’s too unbearable and you just desperately want to experience that intensive orgasm. Usually he doesn’t let you have it though. Because of that you become unbelievably horny during the next few days, wanting Tom to use you and fuck you in any sort of way, but of course he’d rather watch you squirm and whine under him. “Should’ve thought twice before being a brat”/“Only good girls derserve to cum”/“You look so pathetic, begging for my cock”

Theodore Nott:

Instead of the popular silent treatment you gave to Theo sometimes when you were mad, you also enjoyed seeing him all fidgety and out of control. “Please don’t do this”, he’d beg, but it would all be in vain. Once you decided to bounce up and down on his swollen cock, he couldn’t keep it together anymore. You didn’t allow him to grab your tits, nor to cum. Once you rode his cock long enough to get you close, you got off of him and fingered yourself in front of him until you made a mess of the sheets. His cock would just leak precum from watching you get off, but he was gonna try to not disobey you. He wasn’t allowed to cum until you gave him explicit permission. After you rode him, he was most likely a swearing mess, desperate to touch his own cock and replicate what you do to him. “That’s what you get for making me mad”, you’d tell him and he’d apologize about a thousand times. Sometimes, out of pity, you then satisfy him by allowing him to touch himself, but other times he wouldn’t be so lucky and had to wait until the next day possibly. “I swear I’ll never do it again”, he whines or “Please I’ll do anything”

Blaise Zabini:

He knows that you enjoy your orgasms way more when they’ve been delayed because then they’re just so much more intensive that way. So, when you do it, he obviously wants to make you feel good, even if that means making you feel incredibly bad, even if it’s in a good way, for a moment. His cock was big by all means, it stretched you out perfectly and fit you just right. So after he comes inside you, he makes you cockwarm him instead of pulling out completely. This way he’ll watch you struggle to not roll your hips because if you did you’d try to get him to hit your g-spot. Then, all of a sudden, he’d grab your waist, make you straddle him, and control your body movements with his hands on your waist. Blaise will pull down, and thrust into you from under you. You can’t help but let out a series of cries because Blaise pounded so deep into you that you were sure you’re insides would never recover. Although he’s lying down, he’s still the one in control, so any pleasure you get is decided by him. “Not yet babe”/“Hold on a little longer ok” As you finally get to have your orgasm, it’s the most intense yet satisfying feeling in the world.

Enzo Berkshire:

Broken was the only word to describe Enzo when he was suffering from not being able to cum due to having a cock ring on. You used it for punishing him sometimes, for unintentionally flirting with other girls, but also just for fun and to spice up your bedroom activities. It vibrated his inflated cock, but also restricted it from shooting out his sweet release. The entire room would be filled with Enzo’s variations of noises, begging and whines. “How much longer”, he keeps asking while making filthy sounds and “I can’t keep it in anymore please” he’d always plea. Enzo would also always come close to tears, though he definitely enjoyed the sinful mix of pleasure and pain too. There were also several intensity settings on the useful cock ring and any time he’d swear, you put it higher. He was entirely under your control, and anything he did would result in his cock just suffering longer from the prolonged torture. You watched him squirm in his bed, completely naked, and even humping the bed at times to get some sort of friction, but that never ended well as you would set the vibrations even higher. His cock was so close to coming, yet only measly drops of precum came out. It was truly a sight.

Draco Malfoy:

Combined with public factors, orgasm denial is your favorite way of watching your boyfriend struggle to keep it together. Otherwise everyone would find out what an obedient boy he was for you, totally unlike the usual bad boy persona he puts on. When all your friends hang out around the common room couch, near the fireplace, a blanket always covers you two. It’s normal, since everyone shares a blanket with either a friend or partner. The twist comes when you slyly slide your hands all the way down to his crotch and rub him through his pyjama pants first. Draco always inhales sharply, knowing he’ll have to be on his best behavior. He shifts all the time, trying to secretly hump himself on the palm of your hand, acting like a stupid fuck toy. So, to tell him to cut it out, you lightly squeeze his length, sending him a warning sign. He should remember that you were the one in control. When you decide he deserves it, you start massaging his cock, pumping it ever so slowly and circling your thumb over his crown. As soon as you hear the grunts, signaling that he can’t keep it in any longer, you slide your hands out of his pants again and act as you were. Draco’s own pleasure had to wait until you were in private, until then he’d quietly whine “Please let me cum, pleasee”/“I swear I’ll do anything you want”

[inzaynety]

part of the job ⤫

➢ summary: after using no. 10, hoshina realizes one of the reasons behind his drive to fight. after listening, you realize the limits to your everything. 

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 1607 words, non-explicit injuries, spoilers from the manga (fight starting at ch. 88 and hoshina’s past lwky), locking someone up (crack part lol), slight angst, hurt/comfort

➢ notes: yo🫸🏼🫷🏼this is more of a character analysis for hoshina and reader so i added some dialogue from the manga itself to connect it a little more (w/ reader influence ofc be we’re delulu like that)

pt. 2 - pt. 3 of slice & dice - pt. 4

Not yet. My sword is right there.

He feels like he’s floating, like his body is lighter than he remembers. But there’s no time to waste, he has to grab hold—oh. That’s why he feels that way.

His arm is gone.

Hoshina stares in shock as his blade moves further and further away, and all that’s left is him and his thoughts. He can’t feel himself moving; he can’t feel himself breathing. 

If he were his brother, he would have been able to switch over to his firearms without a worry and take down the Kaiju just like that. For crying out loud, this was a smaller one. This should have been easier for him. His father and the first commander he trained for, didn't need his particular set of skills. 

And you—what were you doing there? He knows he’s dying, and he knows this is what people might see before they go. But how cruel is it when it’s your own lover staring back at you?

If he were you, what would he do? 

He’d take your other hand and shove his blade back in there, probably complaining about how hard to hold Izumo tech made them, more so than the guns at least. And he’d push you to keep on fighting even if neither of you knew you’d make it back.

Why? Because he knows how much you love your weapon. He knows how much you trained with that old thing more times than he can count. And he knows it’s the same for him.

A jarring laugh takes him out of his thoughts. Hoshina gasps and clenches his left fist, then his right. His arm was still there.

How was that?! I totally fended it off!!

That son of a bitch Kaiju No. 10.

You can’t listen.

Having been injured in a previous mission yourself, you were pretty much banned from joining the fight anywhere. Your division knows that despite whatever persona you had as their commander, if there was a place you’d want to be, you’d be there no matter what.

The only thing you could do now, however, was send your vice commander and platoon leaders off before settling into your office and waiting. The control room was only a corridor down and from the messages you’d been receiving, your team was doing just fine. 

You just didn’t know if he was. The First and Third had their fair share of strong opponents but it doesn’t seem like they ever caught a break. Even if they were going to be using Kaiju powered suits and weapons, that was never going to be enough, was it?

You only had the call with Okonogi to go off of and had placed yourself on mute so as not to distract her from her job. But it scared you instead upon hearing the Third’s own shouts and cries of their vice commander’s name.

Your finger hovers over the red button after a particularly devastating yell until an alarm blares in your office. 

“Commander! There’s a situation with Mizutani’s Platoon!” 

Without hesitation, you lift your finger off and connect it to your in-ear, placing your phone in your pocket before rushing to the control room. 

Why is it that even though I’d lose and lose, I never stopped swingin’? Why is it that even after being told I should give up time and time again, I never stopped fighting?

He stands unwavering on an equal level with Kaiju No. 10 sitting in front of him, waiting idly for his answer.

“To beat my brother.”

No.

“To hold on to the one thing I’ve got goin’ for me.”

No!

“To fulfill my duties as vice-captain.”

Quit trying to put up a front!

Hoshina doesn’t know what the monster wants to hear, but he knows they don’t have much time right now. No. 12 is much stronger than No. 10 was and he can’t imagine what would happen if he failed to neutralize it now. Only he could do something about it but now he was utterly lost. What could he do?

The world around him steadies and he blinks. Oh.

“Because swingin’ the sword...”

Kaiju No. 10 doesn’t move. 

“...is fun.”

No. 10 grits its teeth, veins popping against its skin as it rises, its eye peeking from the cross-shaped hole in its head.

That’s right.

You’re pacing back and forth, receiving poorly concealed glances sent your way by your own division. It felt like an eternity from the time you were called into the room to the time of any other update from the Third Division. This can’t be healthy.

You hate thoughts like this. They give you doubts. Doubts about things you can’t control by yourself, nor can you even if you were given the wheel. It’s not in your place to stop him or abandon your post just for him. You wish you could split yourself in half and not worry so much, but wouldn’t it be easier to find a way to get rid of that worry? What about–

“Vice Commander Hoshina has neutralized No. 12!!” Okonogi announces that you can hear it through your in-ear as well as your control room’s speakers. Your team lets out a collective cheer and sighs of relief as you visibly relax, reaching into your pocket to hang up the call. 

On the monitors, every platoon leader and officer worked with pride and neutralized their own Kaiju with ease from the moral boost that, among Shinomiya and Gen’s victories, had given them. Everything was going to be fine. 

But the piercing eyes of those thoughts stay in the back of your head.

His whole body is sore and hot when he wakes up. The smell of fresh linen and alcohol comes to his senses and when he opens his eyes, you’re right there in front of him. Hoshina’s surprised but he’s also imagining the look on the medics faces seeing you rush through the halls like he knows you did.

“Sweet–” You punch his better side and he yelps. He tries to retort at the action but one look at your face has him holding it in. 

“Dumbass! Stupid. You were—god, I swear I’m locking you up and never letting you see the light of day.” But then you’re gently pressing your face against the same arm and letting out the deepest sigh you had been keeping in. His expression softens as he brings his hand up to pat your head. 

“Not even congratulations? Good job?” You were probably aware of how much he overheated his suit and definitely aware of how he was using the prototype No. 10 suit, so that did not help in extinguishing your worries. Yeah, he was reckless alright.

Tears start to form in your eyes and while you’re grateful that your face is hidden from his sight, Hoshina knows you better than that. You must have been so worried for him while being preoccupied with your own division and everything. It was so, so hard. Your grip on the back of his pillow doesn’t go unnoticed.

The sudden thoughts hit you again and guilt runs through you. How could you think that?

“Hey–” Hoshina starts as now you’re crying, holding onto his arm with a grip just a tad lighter than the one you have on the cloth behind him. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You weren’t one to cry so much, at least not lately. He made that a mission for himself. 

You only shake your head, allowing yourself to be moved by a man more hurt than yourself into his arms as he comforts you. His warmth is there, his heart is beating, and his words are spoken right into your ear to tell you he’s there. He’s alive, he’s fine. 

But what if he wasn’t? What if he didn’t make it out of there?

“Look at me.” His voice is firm, juxtaposed with the hands lifting your face to get you to focus your attention on him. “I’m right here.”

You should be here comforting him, not the other way around. Of course, your Soshiro would be the one to do this, though. You raise your eyes to him and come to the realization of the utmost contentment you’ve ever felt. Something you’ve always felt with him.

Of course, your Soshiro.

It takes a few moments but you’re able to calm yourself. He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, and waits patiently in case you want to say something, even if it is nothing at all. 

“I…” You can’t pick out your words right away, “...felt like I couldn’t do anything. Watching you like that. Soshiro,” he’s hanging onto your every word, “I thought that if, just for a second, you weren’t in my life, maybe it’d be easier to not feel like that.” Even coming from your own mouth, it sounds too harsh and too horrifying to say out loud. His hold falters, you can feel it, and you’re immediately wracked with more guilt. 

“But–”

“That’s okay.” Is what Hoshina answers first, stopping you. His hands on your face grasp you more and bring you closer to his. “I’d like to think I know ya enough to know what ya want to say. Maybe ya don’t know it yet.” The glint in his eyes are back, earning an automatic roll of your eyes. 

He’ll tell you later how much you helped him. 

“There’s my girl.” He places a kiss on your nose and rests your foreheads together. “Besides, ya can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You’ve helped him so much more than you think.

“I’ll always be here.”

©inzaynety 2024

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

bucky’s “gimme a minute, baby” in that skin-on-skin drabble has me in such a chokehold i’m actually struggling to breath right now and oops i just died. building on that, how do you think bucky kind of balances that control while also being the absolute man of service he is? hard to imagine him struggling for dominance—that man is NOT a sub—but he’s definitely walking a line between calling the shots and being on his fucking knees.

Bucky wants skin on skin…

I blame it on Bucky’s tunnel vision and tenacity. He can’t help but go after what he wants. He can’t help but lose his pride over it. Can’t help but have you…

The breath that rushes from him is ragged and desperate. Your fingers curl in his slightly sweat-matted tresses, tugging his face up so his glistening chin tilts upward and his glossy eyes meet yours from between your legs. He wants to speak, but he’s struggling for words. It seems strange to be able to bring him to this state - not submission, but utter desperation.

“What is it, Bucky?” you ask him and his eyes flutter when you rake your nails over his scalp.

“Baby,” he rasps.

“Hm?”

“Come on,” he sighs. “Let me just- Just…”

You smile at him and slightly shift your hips, his eyes drifting down to watch the movement and his throat bobbing as he swallows. This is torture for him and you can’t fathom someone wanting you so badly. You’re almost scared of what he will do to you when you allow him to lower his mouth back onto you.

In truth, you needed him to stop for a second. Your orgasm came toward you way too quickly. It was too much and your thighs had been shaking like crazy.

“What do you want, Bucky?” you ask him before your disbelief overrules the euphoric feeling you get when this man wants you like this.

His fingers curl in the sheets, the metal whirring with the movement. This is the kind of restraint you’ve seen from him in battle, when he wants to attack, but is waiting for orders. This is a soldier. A soldier waiting for the order to attack. To kill.

“Wanna lick you,” he mutters and his cheek falls to your inner thigh, pupils growing as his eyes dart between your glistening cunt and your flushed face. “Want to see you come.”

You shake your head and tilt it at him. “You weren’t trying to make me come.”

His mouth curves up at the corner. Bastard. He has his own agenda.

His brow drops as he straightens his position. His hands slowly curl from the sheets and slide to your thighs, squeezing the outside and sliding to your inner thighs.

Your confidence falters. And his smirk fully comes out when he knows you’ve caught on, his hands pressing down to open your thighs as far as they go.

“Let me have what I want, sweetheart,” he mumbles and presses lazy kisses over your thighs, visibly depriving himself of what he really wants - taunting himself. His voice is soft, but you know better than to think you have the power. You’re talking to a man starving.

Something in your belly twists at the thought and Bucky snickers at your pussy convulsing. His finger darts out and traces over your folds.

“Buck…”

“We want the same thing, don’t we?” he asks.

You nod, words lost.

“Good girl,” he says, lips fluttering against your clit with the words. You shudder. “You know I’d beg for it.”

Fuck, you do. He would. He has.

In defeat, you drop your head back between your shoulders with a long breath. You hear him laugh softly, feel his grip steady on your thighs.

Then you feel his mouth.

Oh no…

[runnning-outof-time]

Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @asherlockfandom

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking

Word Count: 3475

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.

"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.

"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.

"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.

"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.

"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.

"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.

"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.

"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."

"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.

"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.

"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.

"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.

"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.

Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.

Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.

Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.

"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.

"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.

"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.

"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.

She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.

"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.

Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.

"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.

"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.

"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."

"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.

These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.

"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."

(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.

The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.

(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.

Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.

"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"

"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."

"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.

"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"

Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.

(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.

"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.

"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.

"I would," she affirmed with a nod.

"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.

"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.

"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.

The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.

She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.

Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.

The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.

A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.

"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.

"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"

It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."

"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."

"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.

Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.

"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.

"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.

"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.

(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.

"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"

Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.

She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.

A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.

Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.

But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.

"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.

"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.

"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.

"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.

"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"

"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.

"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.

(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.

(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.

"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.

"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.

"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.

"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.

"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.

"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."

"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”

Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.

“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.

“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”

“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @deadcrowcalling

MASTERLIST

[thegettingbyp2]

Can you do one where jasper hale and the reader are doing the deed and Carlisle and Esme walk in on the thing happening. Thank you ❤️

Also fem reader plz

DRINK WATER thanks love ya

Caught

You whined softly as Jasper’s hips pushed gently into yours again, one of his hands firmly planted on the bed next to your head in order to keep his weight off of your body as his other hand trailed softly along your body. Jasper was getting better with understanding that you weren’t going to snap if he held onto you a bit tighter, but when it came down to sex, he was still terrified of hurting you. Your whine caused Jasper to stop suddenly as he looked down at you, bringing his hand up to your cheek.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, worry filling his eyes.

‘No,’ you replied, running your hands up his chest, gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself up, pressing your chest against his. Jasper brought his arm around your waist to keep you against him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing your skin gently. ‘Jasper you’d never hurt me. If you wanted, you could go faster, you know, harder?’ you continued, your cheeks heating up, suddenly glad that he wasn’t able to see your face.

‘(Y/N), I don’t think I’d be able to control myself, I barely have it together at the moment,’ he said, chuckling into your shoulder, his chuckle turning into a groan when he felt you clench around him.

‘I trust you,’ you said, pulling his head up until he was looking at you. ‘You won’t hurt me, please Jasper, it feels so good.’

Jasper looked at you for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours. ‘You tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?’

‘I promise,’ you said quickly, nodding your head as he lowered you back down against the bed. You shivered when you felt his grip tighten on you ever so slightly as he thrust into you again, a cry being torn from your lips at the force. Jasper continued to pick up the speed of his thrusts until he had a gasp falling from your lips every time his hips met yours. Dipping his head back down to the column of your throat, your breath stuck as you felt him graze his teeth along your skin, silently wondering what if would feel like if he sunk his teeth into you.

He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the sounds of Carlisle and Esme coming back home from a hunt. Carlisle and Esme heard the sounds of your cries and instantly ran up the stairs, following the sound to Jasper’s room, afraid that their newest son had lost control while they had been away. When the door opened, Jasper’s gaze shot over to the movement and, upon seeing who it was, pulled out of you and wrapped your naked body in a blanket before you could blink.

‘You’d gone out,’ Jasper said, panting slightly, his body hovering protectively over you.

‘We had, but then we came home,’ Carlisle said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

‘We heard (Y/N) and thought,’ Esme trailed off when he saw the look of sadness and guilt that passed across Jasper’s face.

‘You thought that I’d lost control and hurt her,’ Jasper finished for her. ‘I’m getting better and - ’

The combination of your hand coming to rest gently on Jasper’s cheek and Carlisle’s words cut him off before he could start to get worked up. ‘We know, son. But with a human in a house full of vampires, that’s the first thing that comes to mind when,’ Carlisle gestured in front of him, his shoulders shaking with supressed laughter. ‘But we can go back out, let the two of you, you know,’ he said, smirking slightly as he wrapped his arm around Esme’s shoulders and led her back downstairs, closing the door behind them.

‘You know, for someone with amazing hearing, you probably should have heard them come in,’ you teased, trying to cheer Jasper up. It worked as a small smile replaced that sad frown that had taken over his features and he turned his attention back towards you.

‘Well sorry ma’am if I was a bit distracted,’ he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. ‘I am getting better though right, being around you?’

‘Baby,’ you cooed, tugging him down until he was lying next to you and you curled your body into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. ‘You’re amazing, you didn’t need to get better at anything, you just had to get used to being around me. And based on what was interrupted, you’re definitely used to me being around,’ you said, unable to hide the smirk on your lips.

[milswrites]

Stubborn Little Fox

~ Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Eris struggles to look after his stubborn mate when you are sick.

Warnings: Poorly reader but it’s pretty much fluff. Maybe some suggestiveness.

Notes: Just a silly little fic to tide you over until I finish the angst I’m writing. Dedicated to @sarawritestories who wrote me this exact scenario in an attempt to get me to stop writing and go to bed 😌

Your bed was empty.

Again. 

The wrinkled covers pulled back to reveal the bare sheets of where you had once laid, where Eris was supposed find you soundly sleeping upon entering the room.

The Autumn Prince cursed lowly under his breath, knuckles turning white with frustration as he tightly gripped onto the tray of food he had prepared for you.

It was easier to control his hounds - Eris thought as he carefully placed the tray down on the edge of the bed, lest he toss its contents onto the floor in his anger.

Eris was used to completing impossible jobs, and yet nothing has been more difficult than trying to wrangle his sick mate and convince you to sleep away your illness. Your inability to sit still making caring for you harder than Eris had initially anticipated.

He needn’t try too hard to find you, a swift wander down the hall and to his office was all Eris needed to walk before he opened the door to find your sickly form hunched over his desk with a pen in hand. Scribbling away at whatever documents had been left for you once you had recovered.

It was impossible to stop the exasperated sigh which fell from his lips as he took in the paleness of your face and the worrying sheen of sweat which had coated it.

“And why, pray tell me, aren’t you in bed where you’re supposed to be Little Fox?” Eris snarled, all comfort forgotten as he once more found himself trying to coax you back towards your bed.

With shaking hands you reluctantly place your pen down, guilty eyes meeting the burning stare of your mates unforgiving glare. “I’ve got work to finish!” You defend, gesturing to the stack of paperwork which had only grown during your absence from your job.

At your excuse, the red-haired male inhaled deeply, a disbelieving hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. And it wasn’t until Eris exhaled his frustrations that he allowed himself to reply as softly as he could, “work can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“It can’t,” you reason, a disappointed sigh drawing from your sickly lips, “I’m far enough behind as it is. Another day without work and I’ll never be able to catch up. Besides, I’m fine. I feel much better now.”

Whilst Eris prided himself on holding back the roll of his eyes which threatened to occur, he failed to stop the raise of his brow as you proceeded to burst into a fit of coughs after your weak-willed reassurances.

“All better?” He mused, a small smirk finding its home on his lips as he watched you pitifully try to compose yourself. Innocent eyes meeting his own as your incessant coughing eventually came to a halt.

“I have to say Little Fox, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you like going against my orders” Eris chided, slowly walking towards you as he spoke. Each step forward drawing you deeper into his hypnotic trance. “Would I be correct in assuming you keep leaving your bed because you want me to scold you?” He asks teasingly, bringing his face down to meet yours, until his playful eyes were level with your own.

“I can’t say I’d hate it if you had to take care of me” you replied honestly, unable to help the way your gaze drifted towards your mates slightly parted lips.

“Is that not what I’ve been doing all this time?” Eris feigns hurt which fails to read through his wicked smile, “Taking care of my mate?”

“I can think of a few more ways I’d like to be taken care of” you answer, hoping to be seductive but ultimately failing as another round of coughs wrack your chest.

“Later” Eris chuckled, his strong arms coming to lift you from where you were sat, “for now you need sleep.”

You furrow your brows in protest, opening your mouth to argue with your mate before he beat you to it. Eris’s soothing voice acting to calm you, “Don’t worry, I’m going to have to cuddle you just to make sure you don’t run off anywhere else.”

Eris’s warm lips came to meet your aching forehead, his kiss already working to dissipate the uncomfortable pulsating of your sore temples. Your mates healing touch enough to already have you drifting off in his comforting embrace.

“My stubborn Little Fox,” he uttered as he began to move back towards the bedroom which you shared, cradling you close to his body in hope that the heat which he emitted would soothe your aching joints, “you better feel well again soon, I’ll be waiting to deliver your punishment for disobeying me.”

You hum happily in response, nuzzling your face into his warm chest to hide your smirk of anticipation, “I’m looking forward to it, My Prince.”

It was only once you woke, when your fever had broken and the ache in your muscles had quelled, that you noticed that Eris was no longer holding you. That it was his turn to escape the comfortable confines of your sheets which had now grown cold in his absence.

Stepping out from the warmth of your covers, you walked barefoot across the cold wooden floors. Seeking the ever-lasting warmth of your mate. You followed the call, moving through the hall until you found yourself outside his office, the strong scent of crackling wood and chestnuts enough to tell you the male was waiting inside.

Cracking open the door you peered inside, noting the way Eris was slumped over the freshly inked papers you had saved to work on when your health had improved.

Your mate - your selfless, loving mate - had completed them all. No doubt seeking to ease your worries and provide you with the extra hours of rest you would no doubt need once you had woken.

Quietly pulling the door to, you move to the kitchen to prepare your love a warming tea. Because as much as Eris longed to take care of those he loved so dearly, sometimes what he needed was for someone to take care of him in return.

[dollfacedsl1ut]

Crystal Moon

dynamic: g!p ning x siren!fem reader

synonsis: ningning went to a nearby beach to clear her mind but there’s a unexpected visitor who she meets along the way

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, exhibition, seduction, dacryphilia (crying), begging, overstimulation, both are dominate at one point, Ning is a little depressed lmk if I’m missing smth !!!!

wc: 1,329 or 1.3k

A/N: in honor of my LONNGGGGG awaited return I’ve made something new plus I’m accepting bg requests!!

The old sand molted the shape of ningning feet as she walked along the beachside, this was the only way she would be able to think, everything was just so clouded in her mind and she needed to catch a break, whether it was paparazzi or stalkers following her it was all too much, this beach reminded her of the good times she had as a kid although it looked different….. it was windier and cloudy all the time not a lick off sun in sight..

Ning rested against a large rock near the ocean the tidal waves marking their path in the brown sand, her eyes felted heavy as she glanced at the empty vodka bottle she had tucked away in her jacket, she knew she’d have to go back and face reality eventually but a little break wouldn’t hurt anyone

She let her eyes close for a brief second before a a sweet yet seductive tune played in her head, maybe it was the alcohol she thought over and over until the rhythm changed…”Yeah theres no way I’m dreaming” she thought as her legs dangled from the large rock, the tune got louder and more intense but the voice of whatever it was made her head foggy, foggier than it was before it was mind controlling in a way, she counted complain it was such as beautiful thing to hear but she felt like it was the only thing she heard the sound of the ocean water hitting the rocks gone, the sound of the birds chirping and flapping their wings erased, just the tune was heard, yeah she was in denial until a dark figure was seen moving from under the wooden brown bridge in front of her.

Maybe her suspicions were true she’s not dreaming…but in fact hallucinating Ning groaned as she lifted her body off the rock before plopping down on the sand, she could’ve swore she stepped on a seashell or a hermit crab? But nonetheless her foot was on a sharp object, she didn’t know if she wanted to check on her foot or follow the figure who released the tune..

She just couldn’t think straight so ignoring her very aching foot she went after it but the song got louder and more hypnotizing and intoxicating it felt like drinking the most throat burning alcohol in the world, right when it felt like she was gonna faint she spotted a dark purple tail she reached out to try and grab it but it moved upwards like it was begging Ning to touch it, but that’s when the song stopped as the tail turned into a pair of long soft legs

“H-hello” Ning said with a shaky voice unaware of the creature that was before her eyes, the now human walked in front of ning as she gawked, your skin was glistening as her eyes trailed from your body to your chest then your dark eyes, they looked lifeless to Ning but she didn’t move..she couldn’t move..it was like someone was holding her in place.. you were holding her place the song she heard wasn’t a dream or a hallucination it was you..you lead her here to do what exactly??

Your dark eyes pierced her skin, it made her feel invisible but when your hand touched and grasped her shoulder she knew you were real “w-who are you” she whispered “if I told you who I was I’d be banished so let’s just call me siren” her voice gave her chills as she nodded your presence drove her crazy but your body was hypnotic, needless to say there was a visble tent in her pants as she looked at you trembling “I must say I never seen another human on this beach in months” Ning almost came right there when you kept speaking to her, she didn’t know you could sense her arousal, your arms brung Ning in for a bare hug before dragging her under the wooden brown bridge, she wanted to scream and fight, she didn’t want to go with you, she didn’t know if you wanted to kill her or even take her away she was defenseless because she just had to come to you, she just had to be attracted to your song and follow you…

You reached the bridge as you placed her down on the sand this part was much darker and colder it made her nipples perk up under her gray hoodie, Ning was afraid but aroused, you straddles her hips as your hands rested on her shoulders “you know what I’m gonna do to you is your own fault right…..you purposely followed me for you’re own reasoning” she wanted to believe it wasn’t but your words persuaded her, a smile formed on your lips as you unzipped her hoodie, her skin was so and delicate, it was life one slice with your claws and her skin would be tainted

Your hands trailed to her pants as her tent was visible you smiles softly before pulling them down but leaving them on her thighs although you were gonna take advantage of her you didn’t want her to get horrifyingly sick, there was a sight of precum left in her boxers as you pulled them down revealing her cock, it stood upright as it smacked against her soft belly it was so thick and long, this was visibly the biggest you’ve ever seen even male sirens didn’t have this much girth you thought as you slide down your panties, there was a hint of worry on nings face as you lifted yourself up then guided down on her cock, the stretch was painful but bearable, you sank down until your clit reached her pelvis, Ning gasped and whimpered under you as her hands immediately went to your hips kneading the soft flesh, you tried your best to stay silent but it just felt too good your body weakened as you moved your hips against hers her cock felt good in your tummy, her tips was pushing and hitting your cervix as you got leverage and started to lift your hips and bounce on your cock, your whimpers didn’t go unproved by Ning as she kept kneading your hips while letting out whimpers or curses every other second, your cunt squeezed her cunt deliciously as your hips moved restlessly it was so magical and synchronized, her flesh slapped against yours as liquid ran down your legs she didn’t know you came yet until the white ring formed around her cock, she felt her high coming as you clamped around her, she didn’t know you could get this tight it was unbearable as tears rolled down her cheeks, she came inside your cunt with a loud cry as her hands squeezed you tight, but you didn’t stop you wanted to be full you haven’t felt like that in a while and she was your only option, her cock veins bulged and dragged against her spongy walls as you came again, your cum was beginning to soaked her joggers, Ning hiccuped as she pleaded and begged you to go faster, her feeble voice was such a turn on it made your cunt quiver around her, you felt her hands snake up your body and grasp your chest fondling with your nipples, you moaned at the sensation, as your hips stuttered.. you were close again but so was Ning her cock throbbed inside of your cunt as she squeezed and pinched your nipples your bottom lip tucked under your teeth as you came around her for the last time, Ning followed as her warm cum coated your walls.

Nings eyes closed as you lifted yourself off her, you cleaned her up but left her on the sand unconscious or conscious you’ll never know, but you did know she’d be back to look for you and always you’d be singing your tune wishing she would be the one to come find you….

[pedroscowgirl]

Between control and desire

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Warnings!: Minors DNI, contains smut infidelity (reader has something with spencer), edging, p in v (wrap it up), creampie, squirting, power dynamics, oral!f receiving, fingering (lmk if i forgot something)

Summary : You finally share your first kiss with Spencer, the man you've adored for ages. But what happens when Hotch catches you in the act? As feelings shift and boundaries blur, you're caught between two men, Spencer’s sweet affection and Hotch’s intense control. The line between desire and duty has never felt so fragile. Wc:7,9k

A/n: I've been rewatching criminal minds and i would never cheat on my sweet nerd but Hotch is just so fine y'all...so enjoy!

This case was different. Normally, your assignments involved profiling and analyzing, not dressing up and mingling with the elite. But the unsub had been targeting wealthy women at high-end galas, and the BAU’s intel pointed to his next appearance at an exclusive charity event downtown. You’d be going undercover to draw him out.

In theory, it was simple: show up, blend in, and hope the unsub took the bait. In practice? It was the most uncomfortable mission you’d ever prepared for.

Garcia had handpicked the dress for you, and when she’d shown it to you earlier that morning, you were sure she had made a mistake.

“Uh, Penelope,” you had stammered, holding up the scarlet, body-hugging dress with wide eyes. “You sure this isn’t for one of the donors?”

“Nope,” she’d chirped, looking proud of her choice. “That dress is for you, my dear. And trust me, when you walk into that gala tonight, no unsub in their right mind will be able to resist.”

That didn’t ease your nerves. Sure, you’d gone undercover before, but never in an outfit like this. The red fabric clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. It was sleeveless with a deep, tasteful neckline, a slit on one side that allowed for movement, necessary, since you still had to wear a concealed weapon.

Now, hours later, you stood in front of the full-length mirror in the FBI’s makeshift dressing room, smoothing the fabric nervously. You barely recognized yourself.

“Alright,” Hotch’s voice came through the door, causing your pulse to quicken. “We’re ready for the final briefing.”

You took one last look at yourself, squared your shoulders, and opened the door. The instant you stepped into the hall, all conversation stopped. The team, usually focused and professional, looked up one by one and openly stared.

JJ gave you a supportive smile. “You look amazing. You’re going to fit right in with the crowd tonight.”

“Yeah,” Rossi chimed in, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “If we didn’t know better, I’d say you belong at one of those events.”

You blushed, but before you could respond, you caught sight of Hotch. He was standing at the head of the room, briefing file in hand, but his usual moderate expression had softened. His dark eyes scanned over you from head to toe, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw him swallow hard, his jaw tensing.

“You look ready,” he said, his voice calm and professional, but there was a slight tremor in it that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thank you,” you replied, unable to meet his gaze for too long. You shifted again, tugging slightly at the hem of the dress. “I don’t know how I feel about all this.”

“You look great,” Hotch said, his voice quieter now. “Just be careful. Stay close to the team, and if you feel anything’s off, get out of there.”

You nodded, grateful for his concern. You’d worked with Hotch long enough to know that he wasn’t one for overt displays of emotion, but the way he lingered on you, the unspoken admiration in his eyes—it made your heart race.

The rest of the team began gathering their gear, but Spencer Reid was still standing in the middle of the room, staring at you in open awe. His wide, hazel eyes were locked on you, and he seemed completely frozen.

“Spence?” you asked, smiling softly at him, trying to break the tension.

“Woa,” he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard, but the way his voice stretched out the word made you blush even deeper. Reid was brilliant in every way, and his innocence was one of his most endearing traits. The fact that he was clearly impressed by you, of all people, made you feel more self-conscious than ever.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You okay there, genius?”

Reid blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, his cheeks flushing. “Yeah, sorry. You just... look really different. Not bad, just... really good.” His stammered compliment made the heat in your cheeks intensify.

You smiled warmly at him. “Thanks, Spencer. That means a lot.”

Hotch cleared his throat then, effectively pulling everyone back into focus. “Alright, we’ve got our game plan,” he said, gesturing to the screen behind him that displayed photos of the gala venue. “Once we’re inside, we’ll stay in communication. Rossi, JJ, and I will be positioned around the perimeter, while Reid and Morgan will be circulating inside. We’ll all have eyes on you.” He looked at you when he said that last part, his gaze firm, protective.

You nodded, stepping into your role as an undercover agent. The butterflies in your stomach had settled, replaced by the steady focus of a professional ready for the mission. “Got it.”

As you moved to gather your small clutch—outfitted with a tiny earpiece and tracker—Hotch called your name softly. You turned back toward him, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours in a way that made your heart skip. “You really do look... incredible tonight,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. His eyes flickered down to the dress, then back up, and you caught something in his expression that you hadn’t seen before, something unguarded.

“Thank you, Hotch,” you replied, feeling the warmth in your chest spread. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”

As you left the briefing room, you could still feel Hotch’s eyes on you, lingering even as you made your way toward the exit. There was something about tonight, about the way he had looked at you, that felt different. Maybe it was just the undercover role, the dress, or the high stakes of the case, but something told you that after tonight, things between you and Hotch might never be quite the same.

And as for Spencer? The memory of his innocent “wauw” would stick with you, making you smile even in the midst of the danger you were about to face.

The mission had been a success. You and the team had caught the unsub, and he was now sitting in an interrogation room, handcuffed, awaiting processing. The gala had gone off without a hitch, and thanks to the meticulous work of the team, the unsub had been identified and neutralized before he could strike again.

You stood in front of your locker at the BAU headquarters, slipping out of your dress and back into your familiar black jeans and a t-shirt. The adrenaline from the night had worn off, and now you were left with the exhaustion that came after every case. But this time, there was something different, a lingering thought that had nothing to do with the unsub.

The look Hotch had given you earlier had stayed with you. The intensity in his eyes when he said you looked incredible, the way his voice had softened, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with him before. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You had always admired him, respected him, but you’d never considered there could be... more. Not until tonight.

And then there was Spencer. You and Reid had been dancing around each other for months now, exchanging glances, spending extra time together after cases, but neither of you had ever crossed that unspoken line. It was as if you were both waiting for something, but you didn’t know what.

As you closed your locker, the room felt quieter than usual. Most of the team had already left, their shifts officially over, and the bullpen was nearly empty. You exhaled, the tension in your shoulders starting to melt away as you grabbed your bag.

Just as you were about to head toward the exit, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey, wait up.”

You turned around to see Spencer Reid standing by the door. His hair was a little tousled, and he was still in his work clothes, his tie slightly loosened. He had that sheepish look on his face that you always found adorable.

“Spence,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “I thought you’d already left.”

“I was going to, but I saw you were still here.” He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after everything tonight. I know going undercover isn’t exactly your favorite thing.”

You laughed softly, your heart warming at his concern. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just glad it’s over.”

Spencer nodded, but there was something more in his eyes, something unsaid. He stepped closer again, this time breaching your personal space in a way he never had before. You felt the heat from his body as he stopped just in front of you, his hand coming to rest gently on your arm.

Your breath caught in your throat. You and Spencer had always had this connection, something unspoken that simmered just beneath the surface. You’d shared looks, lingering touches, and moments that felt like they were on the edge of something more, but you had never crossed that line. Until now.

Your pulse quickened as your gaze flickered to his lips, then back to his eyes. The tension in the air between you was palpable. And then, before you could say anything else, Spencer leaned in and kissed you. It was soft at first, almost tentative, like he was testing the waters. But the moment your lips met his, it felt like everything fell into place.

You responded immediately, your hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. His arms slid around your waist, and he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. His fingers grazed your hips, anchoring you to him as the world seemed to blur around you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Spencer smiled down at you, his eyes bright and full of warmth. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted, his voice soft.

You couldn’t help but grin, your heart racing. “Me too.”

For a moment, it was just the two of you, standing in the empty bullpen, wrapped up in each other. But then, the sound of a sharp intake of breath from behind you shattered the moment.

You turned, startled, and froze when you saw him.

Hotch.

He stood in the doorway, his expression carefully controlled, but you could see the flicker of something darker beneath the surface. His eyes were locked on you and Spencer, and in that moment, you realized he had seen everything.

The air in the room shifted. You felt your heart sink, your stomach twisting into knots. Hotch’s jaw was clenched, his fists at his sides, the tension radiating off him in waves. He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

“Hotch,” you started, taking a step forward, but the words caught in your throat. What could you even say?

Hotch’s eyes flickered from you to Spencer, then back again. His expression remained stoic, but there was no mistaking the flash of anger, or maybe it was jealousy that crossed his face. He took a deep breath, his gaze hardening.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said finally, his voice tight, though controlled. “I’ll... leave you two to it.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the room as quickly as he had appeared.

You stood there, frozen, your mind racing. Had Hotch been... jealous? The thought seemed impossible, but you couldn’t shake the way he had looked at you, like he had lost something.

Spencer’s hand was still resting on your hip, but you barely felt it now. Your thoughts were consumed with Hotch. The way his fist had clenched, the way his voice had wavered ever so slightly. He had seen the kiss, and he wasn’t okay with it.

You let out a shaky breath, turning to look at Spencer. His expression had shifted too, his brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know he was there.”

Spencer nodded, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “Do you... care?”

Did you? You weren’t sure. All you knew was that something had changed. Something you hadn’t anticipated. You had been so focused on your budding relationship with Spencer, but now Hotch—Hotch—was a factor you hadn’t even considered.

Spencer’s hand moved from your hip to your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

You gave him a small smile, grateful for his understanding. “Thanks, Spence. I just need a minute.”

He nodded and stepped back, giving you space as you tried to process everything.

Hotch was gone, but the weight of his presence still lingered. The kiss with Spencer had felt right—perfect, even—but now there was something unspoken between you and Hotch, something that had been brewing beneath the surface without you realizing it.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t how you had expected the night to end. You had thought the biggest challenge was going undercover to catch a killer, but now it seemed like your personal life was even more complicated than the case.

The next morning felt heavier than usual. The BAU bullpen was busy with agents moving about, but you couldn’t shake the tension from last night. Your mind kept replaying the kiss with Spencer, how natural it had felt, the way he had smiled at you afterward—and then the look in Hotch’s eyes when he’d caught you both.

You arrived early, hoping to avoid the awkwardness that was bound to follow. As you walked into the bullpen, your heart raced at the thought of facing Hotch. Would he bring it up? Would he ignore it? You honestly weren’t sure what would be worse.

Sitting at your desk, you tried to focus on the case reports in front of you, but the words blurred together. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn’t notice someone approaching until you heard his voice.

“Morning.”

You looked up to see Hotch standing beside your desk, his expression as unreadable as ever. He was in his usual suit, clipboard in hand, but there was something different in his posture, something tense, though he was trying to hide it.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice quieter than usual. You waited for him to say something about last night, but he didn’t. He stood there, the silence stretching between you like a wall.

For a few seconds, neither of you said anything, and you couldn’t tell if that was because of him, or because you weren’t sure what to say. The look in his eyes wasn’t like last night, he seemed determined to keep it all buried beneath his calm, professional demeanor today.

“I was reviewing the case reports from last night’s mission,” Hotch said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was controlled, businesslike, but there was an edge to it. “You did well. I wanted to tell you that.”

His praise should have felt good, but something about his tone made your chest tighten. The words were meant to sound professional, but you could tell there was more he wasn’t saying.

“Thanks, Hotch,” you replied, keeping your own tone neutral. “I’m glad everything went smoothly.”

He nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “We’ll have the debriefing in an hour,” he said, his voice tight. “Make sure you’re ready.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you sitting at your desk with a sinking feeling in your stomach. The conversation had been painfully formal, and it was clear that neither of you was addressing the real issue. Hotch was a master at hiding his emotions, but after working with him for so long, you knew when something was bothering him.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Spencer approached your desk, his usual nervous energy replaced with a softness that made your heart ache a little. He smiled at you, that familiar, boyish grin that always made you feel warm.

“Hey,” he said, leaning on the edge of your desk. “You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”

You glanced around the bullpen, trying to avoid Hotch’s line of sight. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, I guess.”

Spencer nodded, though his eyes searched yours for the truth. “Last night was really fun.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, like he was testing the waters to see if you were on the same page.

You smiled at him, feeling a little more relaxed in his presence. “It was,” you agreed, your mind flashing back to the kiss. You were about to say more when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye—Hotch, standing in his office, watching.

Your breath hitched slightly. Hotch’s eyes were locked on you and Spencer, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t hiding it well this time—the tension, the frustration. He looked like he was barely holding himself together, and the realization that you were the cause of it made your stomach twist with guilt.

Spencer noticed your shift in mood and followed your gaze to Hotch’s office. His face fell slightly when he saw the way Hotch was looking at you. “Does he know?” Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, glancing down at your hands. “Well he saw us last night, so…”

Spencer exhaled, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck nervously. “That’s… complicated.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, your voice tight. “It is.”

The weight of the situation started pressing down on you. You cared about Spencer, you had for a long time, but now that Hotch was involved, everything felt more complicated. You hadn’t even realized there was something between you and Hotch until last night. His reaction, the way he’d looked at you and Spencer, had been like a punch to the gut.

“What do we do?” Spencer asked, his voice soft but steady.

You sighed, looking at him with a mix of affection and uncertainty. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, understanding in his eyes. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever happens.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. But as you looked over at Hotch again, still watching from his office, you couldn’t help but wonder if “figuring it out” was even possible.

Later that morning, during the team debriefing, the tension was palpable. Hotch kept his focus on the case, addressing the team with his usual authority, but there was an undeniable edge to his words whenever he spoke to you. His eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, and the undercurrent of frustration in his tone didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at you at one point, silently asking if something was up, but you just gave him a small shake of your head, unwilling to explain the complicated mess you were in.

By the time the meeting was over, you felt like you could barely breathe. You needed to talk to Hotch—clear the air, somehow. You couldn’t let things stay like this.

When the others filed out of the room, you hesitated for a moment before standing up, catching Hotch’s attention. “Hotch, can I talk to you for a minute?”

He looked up from his papers and after a long pause, he nodded. “Close the door.”

You did as he asked, your heart pounding in your chest. When you turned back to face him, Hotch was watching you closely, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You wanted to talk,” he said, his voice low, but there was a tension there, like he was holding something back.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I just… I didn’t want what happened last night to affect our work. I know you saw me and Spencer, and I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening slightly. “You’re right. It shouldn’t affect our work.”

You swallowed hard, sensing that he wasn’t saying everything. “But it does, doesn’t it?”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze steady and intense. When he spoke, his voice was calm but edged with something you hadn’t heard from him before, something raw. “What you do with Reid is your business. But… if I’m being honest, it’s hard to ignore the fact that it bothers me.”

Your heart raced, unsure of what to say. You had expected him to be upset, but hearing him admit it out loud made everything more real.

“I didn’t think it would bother me either,” he continued, his voice growing quieter. “But it does. And I think… I need to figure out why.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy and charged with emotion. You had never seen him like this before, vulnerable, open in a way that made your chest tighten.

You stared at him, at a loss for words. You’d always respected him, admired him as a leader, but now you were seeing him in a different light. A light you hadn’t expected. And now, with Spencer in the picture, everything felt impossibly complicated.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you whispered, unsure of what else to say.

“I know,” Hotch said, his voice softening slightly. He looked down for a moment, then met your eyes again. “But it did.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions. You didn’t know what would happen next, between you and Spencer, or between you and Hotch, but one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same again

----

Weeks passed, and the intensity of your relationship with Spencer grew. Late-night talks turned into stolen kisses, and eventually, those kisses became something more. But despite the connection you shared, neither of you had made it official. It was as if you were both too scared to label what you had—both afraid of what it could mean if you did.

You spent countless nights together in the quiet of your apartment, wrapped in each other's arms, but as the days went on, you couldn’t help but notice that something was shifting. The tension with Hotch never fully dissipated after that night. He had become more distant, colder, but his gaze still lingered on you longer than it should. The weight of it was suffocating, pulling you in two directions, toward the warmth and comfort of Spencer, and the burning intensity of Hotch.

One late evening, you found yourself alone at the office. The team had been working a gruelling case, and everyone had left for the night to grab some much-needed rest. You had stayed behind, your mind too wired to sleep, going over the case files at your desk. The bullpen was eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights casting long shadows over the room.

You hadn’t heard him come in, but suddenly, Hotch was standing behind you.

“You’re still here.”

His deep voice startled you, and you looked up to see him looming over your desk, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were intense—darker than usual.

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “Couldn’t sleep. Just thought I’d go over the case again.”

Hotch said nothing for a moment, his eyes flicking down to the file on your desk, but you could tell he wasn’t really looking at it. His gaze moved back to you, and there was something different in the way he was standing, closer than usual, like the professional distance between you had finally worn thin.

“You’ve been distant lately,” he said, his voice quieter now, but there was a rough edge to it. “Not just with me. With everyone.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. Ever since that kiss with Spencer, everything had felt out of balance. You had been caught in this strange in-between space, unsure of where you stood with anyone.

“I’ve just been… dealing with some things,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hotch’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he stepped closer, leaning against the side of your desk. His presence was overwhelming, commanding, as always—but now there was something else in his gaze. Something you had seen glimpses of before, but never fully understood.

“And what about you and Reid?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, his eyes boring into yours.

Your heart raced at the mention of Spencer. You hadn’t expected Hotch to bring him up, not like this. You could feel the tension building, thickening the air between you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “We’re… we’re not official. It’s complicated.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched at that, and for a moment, you thought he might back off, but instead, he leaned in closer, his hand coming to rest on the edge of your desk, trapping you in place. His proximity made your pulse quicken, and suddenly, the room felt much smaller.

“Complicated,” he repeated, his voice barely above a growl. “You think this isn’t complicated for me?”

You blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. Hotch wasn’t one to wear his feelings on his sleeve, but right now, there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

For a moment, Hotch didn’t respond. He just stood there, staring at you, his gaze intense and heated. Then, in a move that took you completely by surprise, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you up from your chair. You gasped as your body collided with his, and before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was rough, demanding—nothing like the gentle, tentative kisses you had shared with Spencer. Hotch’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips moved with a fierce intensity that made your head spin. It was like all the tension between you had finally snapped, and now there was nothing holding him back.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his suit jacket. Your mind was racing, trying to process what was happening, but your body responded on its own, melting into him as the kiss deepened. Hotch’s hands roamed over your body, one sliding down to your hip while the other tangled in your hair, keeping you firmly in place.

You barely had time to think as he pushed you back against your desk, his mouth never leaving yours. The papers scattered across the surface crinkled beneath you as he lifted you onto the desk, positioning himself between your legs. The kiss grew more frantic, more desperate, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pressed against you.

“Hotch,” you breathed, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. They were dark, filled with desire.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice rough, his forehead resting against yours.

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew you should stop. This was wrong, wasn’t it? You were still involved with Spencer—sort of—but the pull between you and Hotch was undeniable. It had been simmering for weeks, maybe even longer, and now that the floodgates had opened, there was no going back.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your breath hitching.

At that, Hotch’s lips were on yours again, his hands sliding up your thighs as he lifted your shirt. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop, to think about Spencer, but all of that was drowned out by the overwhelming desire coursing through you.

Hotch’s kisses trailed down your neck, and you arched against him, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk for support. You felt the cold surface beneath you, a sharp contrast to the heat between your bodies.

His hands moved with a firm, steady confidence, fingers brushing against your waist as he unbuttoned your pants. His eyes never left yours, dark, intense, and filled with an unmistakable hunger. He lifted you effortlessly, sliding the fabric down your legs with deliberate care, his gaze locked on you as if nothing else existed in that moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the anticipation building as he ran a hand along your thigh, his touch sending sparks of heat through your entire body. When his fingers grazed over the thin material of your underwear, you gasped softly, instinctively pressing closer to him. His lips curled into a smirk, his eyes flashing with something almost predatory.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his breath hot against your ear. “Does Spencer make you wet like this?”

His question caught you off guard. His tone was possessive, commanding, so different from the calm, controlled leader you had known. The edge in his voice made your pulse quicken, and despite the shock of his words, you found yourself craving more.

Hotch’s smirk deepened at your response, and before you could react, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, brushing against your bare skin. The sudden contact with your sensitive flesh made your entire body tense, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped you. “Fuck no, he doesn’t,” you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. His fingers teased you, moving with an expert precision that made you tremble in his grasp.

He pulled your underwear to the side, his eyes darkening even further as he felt just how ready you were. “You’re a mess for me,” he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Look at you…”

Your breath came in shallow gasps as he tugged your panties off completely, discarding them without a second thought. His hand returned to you, fingers finding your most sensitive spot with a precision that made your knees weak. The pressure of his touch sent waves of pleasure through you, and you clutched onto him, your grip tight, needing something to hold onto as the intensity of his touch overwhelmed you.

Hotch’s fingers moved with purpose, each stroke deliberate, drawing soft whimpers from you as your body responded to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. His free hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer, holding you steady as he worked you over, his expression one of absolute control.

“Is this what you need?” he asked, his voice low, but there was a dangerous edge to it, like he was testing you, seeing how far you would go. “Tell me.”

You couldn’t form words. Your body was reacting on instinct, arching into his touch, your mind fogged by the intensity of it all. Every nerve in your body was on fire, and all you could do was hold onto him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the tension between you reached its peak.

Hotch’s fingers moved harder, faster, pushing you to the edge. The world around you blurred, the only thing that mattered was him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he was guiding you, taking control, making you fall apart.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened, your nails digging into his skin as the pressure built inside you, your body responding to his touch in ways you hadn’t imagined. You came hard on his fingers after one last touch to your sweet spot. Falling apart on his fingers made Hotch even harder than he already was.

As you slowly came down from the high, your breathing still heavy, Hotch moved with the same calculated precision that you had always admired in him. His hands gripped your thighs with a firm, commanding hold, putting your legs on his shoulders as he knelt in front of you. The sudden change in his demeanour, this side of him that you had never seen before, left you breathless.

You gasped as his lips pressed against you, his tongue moving in ways that made your whole body react, a rush of heat flooding through you again. It was overwhelming, the intensity of it, the way he was so completely focused on you, as if everything else had disappeared. Your head fell back, your eyes fluttering shut, as you surrendered to the moment, to him.

Hotch was methodical, but passionate. His experience, his confidence, was palpable in every touch, every movement. You couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping your lips, the way your body responded to him as though he had unlocked something deep inside you.

Your thoughts scattered, lost in the sensations. You had never imagined anything like this—never expected your best pussy eating experience would happen here, in the very place where you had spent countless hours working side by side with him. The professionalism that had always defined your relationship was long gone, replaced by something far more primal, far more dangerous.

“Oh, fuck, sir… that feels so good,” you gasped, your voice shaky with pleasure.

At your words, Hotch paused for just a moment, a low chuckle escaping him. The sound vibrated through you, and you felt him smile against you, the warmth of his breath adding to the overwhelming sensations. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race even faster.

“So hot that you’re calling me ‘sir’ while I’m doing this,” he murmured, his voice rough, low, filled with satisfaction.

The deep vibrations of his voice against you were almost too much, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You bit your lip, stifling the whimper that rose in your throat, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as if it were the only thing tethering you to reality. The way he spoke, how controlled, how in command he remained even in this intimate moment, only heightened the intensity between you.

Hotch wasn’t just any man. He was your boss, the stoic leader who carried the weight of the team on his shoulders. And yet, here he was, unravelling you piece by piece, making you feel things you had never felt before. The forbidden nature of it, the fact that you were breaking so many unspoken rules, only added to the electricity in the air.

As his tongue continued its relentless pursuit, the pressure built inside you once again, threatening to overwhelm you. Every movement, every flick of his tongue, was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling tightly in your core, ready to snap at any moment.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—desire, guilt, confusion—all swirling together in a chaotic mix. But in this moment, none of it mattered. The only thing that existed was the way he made you feel, the way he controlled every part of your body with ease, driving you toward that inevitable release.

The intensity of what he was doing overwhelmed your senses, a rush of heat coursing through you, bringing you to the brink. And then, just as you were about to tip over the edge, everything stopped.

Hotch pulled back, his hands still firmly gripping your thighs, but his touch gone, the warmth of his breath no longer sending shivers across your skin. The sudden absence of him left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest, the tension inside you teetering dangerously close to snapping.

"Hotch," you cried out, his name escaping your lips in a desperate plea, your body aching for the release he had so cruelly denied. Your eyes flew open, seeking him, and when your gaze locked with his, you saw the faintest smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Please,” you begged, your voice shaky, desperate. “Please, let me cum.”

For a moment, Hotch said nothing, his eyes scanning your face, taking in the flush of your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, his silence driving you to the edge of madness. And then, without warning, his hand moved, reaching up to cup your face, his fingers firm as they tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his thumb brushing over your lower lip in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. “Begging.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your pulse quickening, the power dynamic between you only making you crave him more. There was something intoxicating about the way he held you,his control, his dominance. You wanted to surrender to him, to let him take whatever he wanted from you.

Hotch’s grip on your face tightened just slightly, his thumb slipping down to brush against your jawline. His dark eyes flicked down to your lips, lingering there for a moment before returning to meet your gaze.

“Say it again,” he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight, the need in your body almost unbearable. “Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, sir, let me cum.”

The way you called him “sir” seemed to ignite something in him, a flicker of pride and desire flashing in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin.

“You think you deserve it?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, his hand still gripping your face as he held you there, completely at his mercy.

You nodded, your heart racing, your whole body aching with the need for him to touch you again. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. “I need it.”

Hotch’s lips curved into a smirk. He was drawing this out, savouring the control he had over you, watching as you trembled beneath him, completely undone by his touch.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous mix of command and seduction.

His words sent a rush of heat through you, your entire body on edge, the tension building with every passing moment. You whimpered softly, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his suit jacket as you tried to steady yourself, the need for release almost unbearable.

Hotch’s hand slid down from your face, trailing along the curve of your neck, his fingers brushing over your collarbone as he slowly made his way down your body. His touch was light, almost teasing, as if he were testing your resolve, seeing just how much you could take.

Hotch’s hands moved to his belt with a deliberate, steady motion, the sound of the buckle undoing echoing through the room. Your breath hitched as he removed his pants and underwear, the sudden intimacy of the moment making your pulse race. When your eyes met his again, they were wide, overwhelmed by the reality of the situation, yet a spark of desire remained unmistakable.

He noticed your reaction, his lips curving into a smirk as he reached out, gently taking a lock of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly tender given the intensity of the situation, and his eyes softened as he looked at you.

“You’re so cute,” he murmured, his voice low, almost affectionate.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but before you could process it, Hotch’s hands were on your hips, his grip firm and commanding as he positioned you. The moment he entered you, the fullness of him made you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips despite yourself. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a brief second, the reality of what was happening hit you all at once. This wasn’t just any encounter; this was real, and the intensity of it was almost too much to bear.

But as Hotch began to move, any lingering doubts faded, replaced by the undeniable pleasure that coursed through your body. He was deliberate, every thrust calculated, driving you to the edge with each motion. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to escape you, but Hotch noticed.

“Don’t hold your moans back,” he commanded, his voice stern but laced with something deeper, a desire to hear you fully surrender to him.

His words had an effect on you, and you let go of the restraint you had been clinging to, your moans escaping freely now as the pleasure built with every movement. Hotch’s pace quickened, the intensity between you growing as he drove you further and further toward the brink. You couldn’t hold back the way your body responded to him, the way every thrust pushed you closer to losing control.

Your head fell back, the sensations overwhelming as he took you rough and unrelenting, his control never wavering. The desk beneath you creaked with the force of it, but none of that mattered. All you could focus on was him, the way he filled you, the way he commanded every part of you in that moment.

And then it happened, your body trembled violently as the release washed over you, the force of it so intense that you couldn’t stop it. You cried out, your entire body shaking as you felt yourself let go completely. It was overwhelming, and before you could even process what had happened, you realized you had just squirted on him.

“Oh, fuck,” you yelled, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Embarrassment flooded through you immediately, and you stammered an apology, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m sorry… I don’t normally do that.”

You looked up at Hotch and his expression was one of pure awe. There was pride in his eyes, as if what had just happened only added to his satisfaction. He let out a low, almost primal growl of approval, his hands tightening on your hips as he continued to move inside of you, driving you both toward the inevitable.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice rough with pleasure. “That was incredible.”

As he chased his own release, his pace grew more erratic, the intensity between you building once more. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his movements relentless as he pushed both of you toward the edge. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel him lose control, his own release approaching.

When he finally reached his climax, Hotch buried himself inside of you with a low groan, the sound filled with raw need. You felt him spill into you, the heat of it mixing with your own, and the sensation sent another wave of pleasure through you. He kept moving, riding out his orgasm, his hands gripping your hips as if he needed to hold onto something, anything, to stay grounded in the moment.

The room felt heavy with the aftermath of the intensity you had both shared. The air was thick, the only sound the soft hum of the ventilation system and the slow, labored breaths you both took as you tried to come down from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your bodies. Hotch’s hands lingered on your hips, his touch softer now but still possessive, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.

You sat up slowly, your body still trembling from the force of your release. Hotch pulled back just enough to give you space, but his gaze never left yours.

You took a deep breath, your mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. Your heart raced as you glanced at him, unsure of what to say. The vulnerability in his gaze surprised you, for all his confidence and control, there was a softness in his eyes now, a quiet tenderness that spoke volumes. His hand, still resting on your hip, squeezed gently as if to reassure you, to let you know that everything was okay.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Hotch said quietly, his voice rough from exertion but filled with warmth. “That was...”

He trailed off, but the way he looked at you, like he was still processing everything that had just happened, said more than words ever could. You bit your lip, the weight of his gaze making your heart flutter. He was right, there was no reason to apologize. What had happened between you was raw and intense, but it was also real, and that was something neither of you could take back.

Finally, he pulled away just enough to help you up, his hands steady and sure as he guided you to your feet. You wobbled slightly, your legs still weak from the intensity of your release, but Hotch was there, his arms strong and supportive as he steadied you. The tenderness in his touch was a stark contrast to the rough, commanding way he had taken you moments ago, and it left you feeling even more connected to him.

As you stood there, face to face, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You had just crossed a line—one you hadn’t expected to cross—and now, there was no going back.

But what did it mean? What would happen now?

Hotch seemed to sense your uncertainty, his eyes softening as he reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You nodded, your throat tight as you tried to find the words to express how you were feeling. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… I didn’t expect this.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something, regret? uncertainty?crossing his features. “Neither did I,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But… I don’t regret it.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You didn’t regret it either, but that didn’t mean things weren’t complicated now. There was still so much left unsaid, so much you didn’t know how to process. You had crossed a line with your boss, a man you had always respected and admired, and you felt like you betrayed Spencer, now you weren’t sure what the future held.

He leaned in slightly, his forehead resting against yours in a gesture that was both intimate and comforting. His breath was warm against your skin, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself bask in the closeness, the quiet moment of peace that had settled over you.

“We’ll figure this out,” Hotch murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Whatever this is… we’ll figure it out.”

Slowly, Hotch pulled back, his hand slipping from your cheek as he straightened up. His expression was serious, but there was a softness in his eyes that reassured you, a quiet promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You should probably get dressed,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You blushed, suddenly acutely aware of your dishevelled state, and gathered your clothes. Hotch watched you with a quiet amusement, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the desk. There was something comforting about the way he looked at you, as if he found your flustered state endearing rather than awkward.

Once you were both dressed, Hotch pushed himself off the desk and stepped toward you, his expression more serious now. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“We’ll talk,” he said, his voice low and filled with promise. “Soon.”

[awkward-walking-potato]

My Kitty Cat

Logan was stalking through the mansion, his usual gruff expression firmly in place, when he heard it—my voice, calling out from down the hall.

"Hey, kitty cat!" I called, the grin on my face audible in my tone.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I didn’t need to see his face to know the reaction I’d get; it was the same every time.

“Stop calling me that,” he growled without turning around, his voice a low rumble that might’ve scared anyone else off. But I wasn’t anyone else.

I jogged up to him, barely able to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside me. Logan might be a terrifying sight when he was angry—adamantium claws, unyielding muscles, that perpetual scowl—but I’d long since learned that my teasing barely scratched the surface of his temper.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” I said, stepping into his path. “You know it’s just a little fun.”

He stared down at me, his blue eyes narrowing into slits. “You call this fun?”

I reached up without hesitation, my fingers diving into the thick, unruly mess of his hair. “Sure do,” I said, giving one of the tufts a playful tug. “Look at these little cat ears. They’re practically begging for a petting.”

Logan batted my hand away, his expression darkening further. “I’m not some damn pet,” he snapped, his voice dripping with irritation. “And I ain’t your toy either.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” I shot back, smirking. “You’re always lurking around, giving me that brooding look. It’s like you’re begging for me to come over and ruffle your fur.”

His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing as he ground his teeth together. For a moment, I thought I’d actually pushed him too far. Logan was all about control, about keeping the beast inside on a leash, and I didn’t want to be the one to make him lose it.

But then, instead of the explosion I was half expecting, he just let out a sharp exhale, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“You really get a kick outta this, don’t you?” he said, his voice softer, but no less dangerous.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”

Logan’s gaze bore into me, and I felt the usual confidence I had around him waver. “This whole thing. You messin’ with me. Callin’ me kitty, actin’ like I’m some kinda joke.”

The playful smirk I usually wore around him faltered. “Logan, I’m not—”

“You like pokin’ the bear,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “But you’re playin’ with fire, darlin’.”

My breath hitched at the way he said it, the low rasp of his voice sending a shiver down my spine. I’d never heard him talk like that before—like he was barely holding something back.

“I’m just teasing,” I said, my voice coming out quieter than I intended. “I didn’t think you minded…”

“Yeah, well, maybe I do,” he growled, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. “Maybe I’m tired of you always treatin’ me like some kinda joke.”

There was a challenge in his eyes now, something fierce and untamed. I should’ve backed off, apologized, but instead, I found myself drawn in, unable to look away.

“I didn’t mean to—” I started, but he cut me off with a low, frustrated sound, a noise that sent a flush of heat through me.

“Enough,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re done messin’ with me.”

Before I could respond, before I could even process what was happening, Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing me by the back of the neck and pulling me to him. His lips crashed against mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle—possessive, demanding, and utterly consuming.

I gasped against his mouth, my hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt as he pulled me closer, like he was trying to erase any distance between us. The kiss was fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, and for a moment, all I could do was hold on and let him take what he wanted.

When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together as we stood there, the tension between us crackling like electricity. His eyes were dark, wild, as he looked down at me, his hand still fisted in my hair.

“Still think it’s funny to call me kitty?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

I stared up at him, my heart pounding in my chest, every nerve in my body on fire. “Maybe,” I managed to say, though my voice was shaky. “But I think I like this better.”

A rough chuckle rumbled out of him, and he shook his head, his hand loosening its grip but not letting go entirely. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

I grinned, finally regaining some of my composure. “So I’ve been told.”

Logan’s eyes softened just a fraction, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “You keep pushin’ me like that, and you’re gonna get burned.”

I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Maybe I like a little fire.”

He huffed out a breath, somewhere between exasperation and amusement, and released his hold on me. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

“Good thing I like to win,” I shot back, stepping back but still feeling the heat between us.

He shook his head again, but there was something different in his expression now—something softer, maybe even affectionate, buried under all that gruff exterior.

“Guess you ain’t all that bad,” he muttered, as if admitting it was some great burden.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, feeling a strange warmth spreading through me at the admission.

Logan gave me one last long look before turning to walk away, but I didn’t miss the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. And as I watched him go, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, all that teasing had finally paid off.

Because the Wolverine might not like being called kitty, but Logan? He sure didn’t seem to mind me all that much.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

daddy is my #1 fan

pairing: re6! leon x reader

cw: ddlg, pacifier use, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex toys

summary: reader is a camgirl and her biggest fan is leon. they meet up at a hotel and have a fun and sexy time

a/n: this is a commission from an anonymous commissioner

wc: 3.1k

You started this gig in a moment of crisis. You’d just gotten laid off and didn’t know how else to come up with rent for that month. Plus, you’d seen the way men stare at you. You might as well use it to your advantage. Initially, you kept your face out of the frame, but the main attraction was still on full-display. It’s a good thing you already had a fair amount of plushies piling up on your bed and quite the collection of cute panties. DDLG had been a secret fantasy of yours for quite some time, but you’d never gotten the guts to bring it up to any of your previous partners. Good thing guys on the internet were totally into it.

You wore a schoolgirl skirt and a pair of pink cotton panties underneath. The skirt was for a Britney Spears Halloween costume, but you advertised it as a “Catholic school uniform”. The Catholic schoolgirl persona made you look even more innocent and girlish than you did when you slipped off your panties with Sanrio characters printed on them and began to grind on your pink frilly pillow.

Some of the usernames in the chat became familiar to you, though you referred to everyone as ‘daddy’ regardless of their handle. The money started rolling in and you were able to buy a vibrator that could be controlled by the paying chatters.

You also received gifts in the mail that you used on camera – sex toys, panties, and pacifiers. You ended up having to show your face with those, but it was worth it to see messages started flooding in, telling you how cute your expression was when you came.

There was one user in particular who donated a lot of money. You had set prices for access to your photos and live streams but he always tipped extra. Once, you were planning to stop the stream when he told you he’d send 300 dollars if you joined a private session with him and came one more time.

“Daddy, I can’t. I’m too sensitive,” you whined.

“I know you can, baby girl. You’ve been doing so well for me tonight,” he typed in the chat.

“Okay, daddy, only for you,” you said, the notification for a donation popped up on your screen. You could be mean and stop the stream, taking the money and using it to buy yourself a nice dinner, but you desperately wanted him to call you a good girl.

It was worth pushing through the over-stimulation to receive a private message with the words, “Daddy’s so proud of you,” along with an extra $100.

Some men could be kind of gross, but this man, whose name you’d had yet to find out, was so kind to you – just like a daddy should be. It seemed like he genuinely cared. He regularly booked private sessions with you and not only did he give you constant praise and encouragement, he would ask how your day was and listen to you talk about anything your mind conjured up. You tried to apologize to him once for wasting his paid time by talking about your life, but he told you he loved hearing your thoughts almost as much as he loved seeing you cum. You gave him an extra orgasm that night as a thank you.

So, when he messaged you with an interesting proposal, it was even more enticing to you.

“Any chance you’d want to meet up in person? I’d pay 1500, half in advance.”

Holy shit. He could very well be a serial killer, but 1500 dollars would be an entire month's rent. Plus, he was going to pay half in advance. Would a serial killer really pay 750 dollars to score a cute victim? You sure hoped not because you were going to meet that man.

You tried not to be shallow but you worried that he might be ugly. Why else would he be paying for sex? You could technically send the money back and bail out if he turned out to be completely disgusting. The fact that he offered to meet at the Ritz Carlton, and not a Motel 6, was your first clue that he wasn’t a total sleazebag.

He knew your face, but you didn’t know his, so you had to wait anxiously in the lobby for him to arrive. You wore your best dress and put your hair up in cute pigtails with a bow tied onto each one. You arrived on time, and began to worry that the mystery man wasn’t coming. A man—hot, mid-30s, you’d guess—smiled at you from across the lobby and you were instantly hit with a wave of disappointment at the fact that you couldn't flirt with him. You had to wait for your man to arrive.

But then, he started walking towards you. A little flirting couldn’t hurt, right? Especially since the other guy was late. He’d understand that you’re just too cute for other men to resist.

When he was within earshot, he said, “Hey, sweet girl.” It was just a coincidence, you assumed. He surely couldn’t be referencing your username. Or maybe he was another fan, maybe you were getting really popular. It only hit you when he said “Ready to go up to our room?” and flashed you a room key.

“You’re ‘agentdaddy’?” You only knew his screen name, which you came to find out was a reference to his real occupation as a government agent. Agent Leon Kennedy — a nice name, but you’d rather call him ‘Daddy’.

“Do I look different than you expected I would?”

“No offense, but I didn’t think you’d be so… hot.” You must’ve been starry-eyed. You hoped it made you look adorable rather than stupid.

“I’m far from offended that you think I’m attractive. I was worried it was the other way around.” He held out his hand and you took it. He led you towards the elevator.

“I’m just surprised that someone like you is paying for someone like me.” You made sure not to let him know that you’d let him have you for free.

“You’re too cute, baby,” he said, while pinching your cheeks which flushed bright pink at the gesture.

He leaned down and gave you the softest, sweetest kiss when you were in the empty elevator. When the elevator stopped at the floor you were staying on, you held out your palm, asking Leon to take it. He happily walked hand-in-hand with you to your hotel room.

When he opened the door, you barely had time to marvel at the gorgeous room because he was already kissing you, and his lips were so soft you could get lost in the feeling of them against yours. Thinking about what else he could do with his mouth made you feel dizzy. Good thing he was getting ready to pick you up and place you on the king-sized bed.

He drank in the sight of you, not hungry or animalistic—he didn’t want to devour you, he wanted to dote on you, to take his time with you.

Before he took off his jacket and his own shoes, he helped you unbuckle your mary-janes.

He ran his hands up the fabric of your thigh-highs. A brand new pair that you’d worn just for him. “These look so cute on you,” he said.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said in a small voice, both shy and falling further into your little girl headspace.

“Can daddy see what’s under your pretty dress?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically. You picked out a special pair of panties just for him. Baby pink with “I <3 Daddy” on the front in red. He manhandled you, standing you up so he could take off your dress. You lifted your arms up before being asked, knowing he was going to help you pull it over your head. Leon picked you up and laid you down on the bed, stopping to admire you. You watched as pure desire filled his eyes. He almost forgot to hang up your dress because he was so distracted by your barely covered cunt. Your arousal had already created a wet patch in the thin fabric of your panties.

Leon discarded his shirt before getting on his knees. He wanted to tease you further but longed to taste you. He spread your thighs with his big hands and then he ran his thumb across your still-clothed slit. His light touch was tantalizing, making you shiver.

“So pretty for daddy,” he said. “I knew you were beautiful on camera, but you’re even prettier in person. I bet you taste good too.”

All thoughts swiftly exited your brain and all you could say was “daddy”.

“Daddy’s right here, sweet girl.” His fingers played with the waistband of your panties before he asked, “Can daddy take these off?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said.

He gently slipped them off and began to play with your folds, admiring your beauty. “Oh, baby,” he said, “your princess parts are so wet. Have you been waiting for daddy?”

“Yeah,” you said, “Need daddy’s help.”

“Such a good girl for waiting. I bet it was really hard when you were feeling this way.”

You nodded repeatedly, making sure he received your silent confirmation.

Leon’s head dipped between your thighs and you were biting back moans of anticipation. He flattened his tongue and took a languid lick up your folds, stopping at your clit to suck gently, earning more of your slick and an unbridled moan.

You knew you could reach your peak quickly if he continued. You were already fighting the overwhelming urge to buck your hips as you were dying for the feeling of his tongue.

He pulled back all too soon. Your immediate response was a whine, so desperate it almost saddened Leon.

“Shh… baby it’s okay,” he cooed, bringing his hand up to your cheek. “Daddy just wants to take his time with you.” He selfishly needed to taste you first, but he knew he couldn’t neglect the rest of your body. It would be sinful not to worship an angel like you fully.

“Let me go get something to calm you down, okay?”

You agreed, though your eyes were glossy with tears the moment Leon stood up. You assumed the overnight bag he brought held only a toothbrush and an extra pair of clothes, but you were glad to see that he brought you a brand new pacifier.

Your lips parted, almost instinctively to let him slot the pacifier between them. You sucked on the nub contentedly as you allowed Leon to move you so that you were comfortably situated on the bed with your head on the pillow while he loomed over you, getting a perfect view of your gorgeous figure. Each of his hands cupped one of your tits, giving them a gentle squeeze and then taking a moment to play with your nipples. He gave a kiss to each one because good girls with pretty tits deserve kisses.

“You’re such a good girl. Daddy’s gonna kiss you all over now.” As Leon began to kiss down your stomach, making his way towards the parts of you that needed his touch the most, you held out a hand for him to take. He smiled at your adorable gesture and intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held onto one of your hips.

“I think your princess parts need the most kisses. Is that right, baby?”

You nodded eagerly and Leon got to work, beginning by pressing his lips to your clit. You were struggling to keep the pacifier in your mouth as the feeling of his tongue lapping at your folds had you holding back moans. His middle finger slipped inside you, followed by his index, and as he curled them upward to meet that sensitive spot, your legs began to shake. You gripped his hand tighter and he stopped the movements of his mouth only momentarily to say, “I know, I know, baby. Just relax for me. Let it happen. Daddy’s gonna be here the whole time.”

When his lips reattached to your clit as he continued to finger you, doubling the pleasure he was giving you, you came – causing the pacifier to fall from your lips, leaving a trail of drool dripping from your mouth. You moaned loudly, chanting “daddy” over and over again, gushing around his fingers. He made sure not to let a single drop of your arousal go to waste, savoring your taste and refusing to pull back until you pushed his head away.

“Too much, Daddy, too much,” you whined.

“Alright, alright, cutie. Daddy will give you a break.”

“No break, no break, daddy.”

“No break? I thought you said it was too much, honey.”

“Need daddy inside,” you pouted. Leon nearly let a groan slip from his mouth.

“Need daddy inside, huh?” He was unable to resist you. “Let me go get something for you first, okay?”

As it turned out, there were more surprises in his bag. He brought you a plushie to hold onto, and you pulled him into a hug, thanking him for the gift.

You held onto the plushie as you watched Leon take off his pants, fully entranced by the sight of his dick.

“Daddy, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” It was a huge ego boost to Leon, but you truly weren’t sure if you could take him fully inside.

“It’s gonna fit, sweet pea. We’re gonna go slowly.”

Going slowly didn’t stop the intense feeling of being stretched, but Leon showered you in praise as he pressed inside you, one inch at a time.

“Look at you,” he said with a wide grin when you were fully filled by him. He pointed to the slight bulge in your belly where you could see his dick. You were amazed at your own ability to take him so well, and he was too, as confirmed with his next words.

“Daddy’s so proud of you,” he said. It was your favorite sentence to hear from him. The words alone could make you moan.

“We need to be careful not to get a noise complaint,” he said and picked up the pacifier, placing it back in your mouth. Your oral fixation happily obliged.

Leon fucked you slowly, but deeply, making sure that you felt every inch. The tip touched your cervix with every thrust.

It didn’t take long for Leon to say, “You’re gonna make daddy cum, baby. You’re so tight for me, feels so good.” Leon was nearly as lost in the feeling as you were. With the pacifier occupying your mouth, you couldn’t even tell Leon how close you were to the edge, but he was paying attention.

“Gonna cum for daddy?” he asked, needing to make sure that your pleasure came first.

Tears were forming in your waterline as you nodded, and you sobbed as your second orgasm hit you harder than the first. Leon continued to thrust slowly in and out of you as he held back his own impending orgasm. He led you through the aftershocks before pulling out and spilling all over your thighs, marking you the best he could without cumming inside you. He didn’t want to get you pregnant just yet.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he said as he placed a kiss on each cheek. “I think we should clean you up with a bath.”

Leon came prepared for bath time. From his suitcase – aka his bag of gifts for you – he pulled out rubber duckies and a bottle of bubble bath.

He picked you up and carried you bridal style to the bathroom so you wouldn’t have to use your tired legs, standing you in the bathtub, making sure to keep you upright while he wiped down your thighs that were still sticky with his release.

Leon removed you from the bath and sat you down on a towel, so he could run the water, making sure it was the perfect temperature – he had you stick your hand in to test it out before he helped you step into the tub.

You looked at him, confused. “Daddy, you aren’t getting in the bath with me?”

“Baby, the bath is for you. Daddy takes showers. You’re too little for those.”

Confusion turned to betrayal and a tear rolled down your cheek. Leon immediately backtracked. “It’s okay, honey, daddy can get in too if it’ll make his little girl happy.”

You nodded and the tears subsided. Leon swiped his thumbs across your cheeks and gave you a kiss on the forehead as an apology for suggesting you bathe alone. When he climbed in with you, he positioned in his lap, facing away from him so you could have fun with your rubber duckies, though you did end up laying your head on his chest by the end of bath time.

At first, it was difficult for Leon to stop himself from getting hard with your ass rubbing up against him, but he was soon distracted by your attempt at a bubble beard.

“Look daddy,” you said, proud of your work.

You were even happier with yourself after hearing Leon’s praises. “My baby looks pretty even with bubbles all over her face.”

“Gonna give you one, too, daddy,” you beamed before you coated his face in bubbles. It was too late for him to say no, though you were too adorable for him to refuse any offer from you.

Your fingers and toes were beginning to prune by the time you laid your cheek to Leon’s chest, and you were clearly ready for bed. Leon stepped out of the tub first so that he could be ready to wrap you in a towel the moment you got out. He wouldn’t want his baby to be cold for a second.

“Pajamas?” he asked when he carried you to bed.

“No, wanna be naked with daddy.”

Leon was more than happy to oblige with that request.

“We better get under the covers, then. Don’t wanna get cold, do we?”

You agreed, knowing that daddy was right. Lying skin to skin with Leon kept you warm through the night – so warm you almost missed your checkout time.

“Maybe we should just stay for an extra night, baby,” Leon said, leaning in for your first kiss of the day.

“Really?” You were more than pleased with his idea.

“Uh-huh,” he said, “I think daddy needs some more time playing with baby today.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “need to play with daddy.”

You were lucky you were still naked from the night before, so there was no hassle of getting undressed. Leon was willing to pay double for another day with you, but when his lips met yours, you forgot about all payment. Your number one supporter deserved a freebie, you decided. 

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * only bought this dress so you could take it off (take it off!)

warnings: iykyk…

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

this time aphrodite wasn’t here to help you get ready which disappointed you in a way. this time percy’s mother helps. a plus side was that your brother would still be walking you down the aisle

“does it feel weird not living in your palace?” asks sally

“well I lived there my whole life. I don’t think I ever liked growing up in royalty though, my father was always controlling of me and my siblings”

“so I’ve heard”

you nod your head. “it was awful. my sister even moved out when she was of age. I don’t speak to her often either but I’m hoping I’ll be able to visit some time”

“I didn’t know you had a sister?”

“melinoe. she’s a goddess”

“minor?”

“very. my parents kind of wanted her to be kept a secret but I suppose I told you so it’s not really a secret anymore” you laugh

sally finishes tying your hair back and puts her hands on your shoulders. “you look lovely. percy is very lucky”

your cheeks flush a pink hue at the mere mention of your soon-to-be husband. good gods of olympus— if someone told you a month ago you would be marrying him instead of his brother you would’ve laughed in their face. yet here you are. you can’t help but feel nervous about this, yes you had been seeing percy since you were twelve and you were beyond comfortable being in this relationship but what if he didn’t feel that way? gods this whole marriage was your fault, I mean you’re only eighteen what if it was too early? did he actually not want to get married?

“oh, dear. you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

“I don’t think I thought things through”

sally frowns and sits on the bench beside you. “nervous?”

“yes. do you think percy really wants to get married? or is he just saying it so I can be happy?”

“(name), marriage is the only topic he has been able to stay on since it happened. I can assure you he is over the moon about this”

you feel tears brewing in your eyes but you quickly push them back to prevent ruining your makeup. “really?”

“yes, darling. I’d never lie to you”

you open your mouth to speak but the door opens, revealing your brother. “we’re starting in five”

you turn back to sally and mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ before exiting the room with nico and you begin walking out to the double doors leading to the beach

“take two” nico jokes, holding his arm out for you to link yours with, instead you throw your arms around him, without a doubt he returns the embrace

“thank you, nico”

“for what?”

“for being my brother”

“well then you’ll be happy to know I’ll always be your brother. even if you decide you hate me”

you pull away with a sigh and loop your arms through his. “I think I’m ready”

“promise me something”

“anything”

“you’ll visit me in the underworld”

“I will. I’m sure percy isn’t very welcome there anymore though”

you both burst out into an uncontrollable laughter. when you try to get any words out your stopped but your inability to breathe

“oh my gods— imagine dad’s face!”

the image of hades seeing your boyfriend husband fills your mind, making you lose any breath you had left. you decide to add onto the fit, “do you know— how dad was so eager to get me married-” you breathe out “he was obsessed with triton I’m starting to think he likes him more than mom”

“now that’s a wedding I would like to attend”

when both of your breathing steadies back to normal you collect yourself and wipe the slight tears that streamed down your face, fixing your hair to assure you like presentable for guests

“okay I’m ready for real now”

“then let’s get you married!”

you take in one last deep breath before opening the double doors and walking out onto the platform covering the sandy ground. the scent of salt water fills your scenes instantly. this time it wasn’t because of your asshole ex husband. this may have been the most nerve wracking part of the wedding— people watching your every move, but when your eyes meet a pair of sea-green ones your nerves feel at peace

when you finally make your way to the altar you hug nico once more before ushering him to his seat, then taking both percy’s hands into yours to prevent them from shaking anymore

“strapless dress? how’d you know those are my favorites?”

your cheeks flush red and you roll your eyes. “shut up”

“want me to save the dirty talk for later? I understand, my mouth is sealed”

when everyone finally settles the officiate begins speaking all that nonsense that they say at weddings. you’ve never actually been to one but you supposed if you were in the crowd this might have been the perfect opportunity to take a nap. he talked on and on for what felt like forever until the vows and until the ending kiss— your personal favorite part. when he finally said the iconic ‘you may kiss the bride’ you were sure you’ve never seen percy move as fast as he did then, quickly throwing your arms around each other into a very non-audience appropriate kiss which on a normal day you would’ve scolded percy for but you were to happy to care about anything right now

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you didn’t end up getting home until around midnight unfortunately. and you should have seen it that the moment you got walked through the doors percy would be eagerly sliding your dress zipper down. you made him wait however— finding it amusing every time you pulled his hands off you, making him wait until you were in your shared bedroom. after what felt like percy’s whole life (he was sure it had been) he was able to unzip your white dress

“you’re quite eager” you laugh. percy ignores your comment and slides your dress off once the zipper was undone, you fumble with your legs to throw it on the floor, then connect your lips back with percy’s as you unbutton his white shirt

“have I told you that you look gorgeous tonight?” he mumbles into your mouth, making butterflies erupt into a frenzy in your stomach

“fifteen times”

when finally you unbutton the rest of the shirt you tear it off and throw it to the side— you only hope it didn’t hit anything important. percy then slides his hand from your bare waist to your underwear, and slowly slides them down your legs. you know for sure you’re not getting even a second of sleep tonight

@azure-drag0ness @itzmeme @leathesimp @pevenxie @mp-littlebit @inclusivesimping

[wandering-winchesters]

Reunited

Summary: After days of fear and separation, you reunite with Dean.

The last few days had been a nightmare—a blur of fear, desperation, and the overwhelming dread that you might never see Dean again. Everything had gone wrong. The hunt had spiraled out of control, separating you from Dean in the chaos. You’d been forced to go into hiding, dodging danger at every turn, your heart pounding in your chest as you wondered if he was okay, if he was even alive.

Every moment you were apart was agony, and all you could think about was getting back to him, to the safety of his arms, to the place where you felt like nothing in the world could hurt you. But that seemed like an impossible dream as the days dragged on, the uncertainty gnawing at you, eating away at your hope.

Then, by some miracle, you got the call. Sam’s voice on the other end of the line, telling you that Dean was alive, that he was safe, and that they were coming to get you. Relief flooded through you, so intense it nearly brought you to your knees. You were barely able to comprehend Sam’s instructions to stay put, to wait for them to come to you. The only thing that mattered was that Dean was okay—that you were finally going to see him again.

The wait felt like an eternity. Every second was a battle against the overwhelming urge to run to him, to find him, to make sure he was really there. And then, finally, you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine, the familiar sound that made your heart leap in your chest.

You didn’t think. You didn’t stop to consider anything. The moment you saw Dean step out of the car, you bolted toward him, your feet barely touching the ground as you sprinted across the distance that had kept you apart for far too long.

“Dean!” you cried, your voice breaking with the sheer emotion of the moment.

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and the look in his eyes when he saw you—relief, disbelief, and a fierce, all-consuming love—was enough to send you running even faster.

You didn’t slow down as you reached him, throwing yourself into his arms with all the strength you had left. Dean caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you like a vice, pulling you against his chest as if he could never bear to let you go again. He lifted you off the ground, holding you so tightly it was as if he was afraid you might slip away from him if he loosened his grip.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion, his face buried in your hair. “Thank God. I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”

You clung to him, your arms wrapped around his neck, your face pressed against his shoulder as you let the tears you’d been holding back finally fall. “Dean,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I was so scared. I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”

He held you even tighter, his hands running up and down your back in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that you were really there, that you were safe, that this wasn’t some cruel dream. “I’m here,” he whispered fiercely. “I’m right here, and I’m not letting you go.”

You nodded against his shoulder, your tears soaking into his jacket, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were in his arms, that he was holding you, that he was safe, and so were you. The world could have been crumbling around you, and it wouldn’t have mattered as long as you were with him.

Dean finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that were still streaming down your cheeks. His eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, to reassure himself that you were really okay.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice laced with concern, his hands trembling slightly as he looked you over for any sign of injury.

You shook your head, your hands covering his as you leaned into his touch. “No, I’m okay. Just… just scared.”

Dean’s face softened, and he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re safe now,” he murmured. “We’re safe. We’re together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you that you hadn’t felt since the moment you’d been separated from him. “I missed you so much, Dean,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

He opened his eyes, his gaze locking with yours, and the intensity of the emotion in them took your breath away. “I missed you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding each other, letting the relief and the overwhelming love you felt for each other wash over you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in the safety of each other’s arms.

Finally, Dean leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

You smiled through your tears, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tightly, so protectively. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back. “I’m right here.”

And as he held you close, his arms still wrapped around you like a lifeline, you knew that no matter what happened, no matter how dark the world might get, as long as you had Dean by your side, you’d be okay. Because in his embrace, you had everything you needed—all the love, all the strength, all the hope in the world.

Taglist: @roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

[shhhsecretsideblog]

You have to go see your professional athlete husband play in the championship game: only problem is you're 42 weeks pregnant. You've been having contractions all day, but you tell yourself they're just Braxton Hicks, and you can go to the hospital after the game and have the baby. But once the game starts you can't ignore the urge to push any longer...

Great prompt! Exactly what I was in the mood to write this evening, ty! Hope you like it (fyi written in an hour and very much not edited or checked or read-through lol)

Half-Time Full-Time Baby-Time

Despite being overdue, suffering practice contractions all day, and having a baby nestled deep in my pelvis - I was not going to miss the big game. I’d never missed any of my husband’s matches and I wasn’t going to start now.

Thankfully, as my hubby was a star player on the team I was watching the game from the Executive Box. My parents were supposed to have joined me but they couldn’t make it, so I was on my own in the luxury private suite that had a large window and a glass door overlooking all the action on the pitch below. Inside the room was a fancy dining table with chairs, a mini bar, and a few high stools beneath the tall bench table lining the window so people could sit and drink and eat while watching the game.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to do any of those things. My tight and round belly and the pain flaring in my hips had me pacing around and around the room. Cupping the underside of my bump I breathed deeply through each rising wave.

“Hmmmmm… not now baby, please.” I whimpered.

The practice pains had gotten closer and closer together during the first half. I’d tried to ignore them, breathe through them and walk around to stop the braxton hicks, but they didn’t disappear. They only got worse. Just before the whistle blew at half time my waters broke and I was forced into the realisation this was no false alarm.

But it would be fine; labour took hours and hours and the game would be long finished before we would need to go to the hospital. That’s what I thought.

Midway through the second half I’m standing by the window, my hands clasping the high bench in a white-knuckle grip, my hips swaying side to side. My throat rattles as I release involuntary groans with the constant squeezing and tightening of my belly. The baby felt so damn low… my legs were in a wide stance and my belly hung down off my hips. I was glad to be wearing a lightweight summer dress with the amount I was sweating. I wanted to open the door, to let in a breeze, but I was scared to with the labouring sounds I was emitting. I didn’t want to attract attention and I did not want to go anywhere and miss the game. I would stay here until you were finished and then we would go to the hospital together.

Another contraction rolled across my belly and the pressure built and built towards boiling point. It felt like I was going to explode, to burst, that feeling of fullness paired with an urgency and pressure was becoming too much to handle. My legs started to tremble as I fought against my body’s instincts, a low rumbling roar slipping past my lips.

I leant forward over the tall tabletop, my arms folded on its surface and my head dropped against my arms. My legs were buckling, sinking lower into a squat. The pressure was building, the round and heavy bowling ball of a head was so low… I wanted to push— my body needed me to push—

“Noooo…. Oh god! Don’t- hoooo- don’t push. Just stay in there baby…. Wait for your daddy to f-finish the g-game—mnghhhhhh!!!”

There was no controlling it, the head was getting lower and pressing against my opening. My body was pushing and I couldn’t stop it. More amniotic fluid hit the floor as I pushed, my bare feet standing on the damp carpet.

In between uncontrollable pushes I glanced up desperately and looked at the timer hanging over the pitch. There was still 15minutes to go, plus injury time. Oh god, the baby was not going to last that long. It felt like it was already starting to crown.

With a trembling hand I feel under my dress between my thighs and nearly vomit when I feel the curved surface of the head pressing against my underwear.

“Oh baby, no… you can’t come out yet…”

But my body and mind are not in sync and a second later I’m back to uncontrollably pushing. I sink into a deep squat, my arms stretched high above my head as I cling onto and almost swing from the high rise table.

“Nnnmghhhhh!!!!” I grunt and low, bearing down into my bottom, running completely on instinct. The baby was slipping further and further out, my labia was stretched thin and the burning of a full crown made me howl.

At the same time one of the teams had scored and the stadium erupted with a frenzy of screams and cheers. The crowd’s jubilance was my own encouragement and I gasped a breath and pushed again, hard. My body was shaking head to toe, the burning… the fullness… the desperation for it all to stop… I had to get the baby out, and it had to come out right now. Giving it my all the head popped out dramatically into my underwear and I collapsed down onto all fours.

The game was nearly over and the baby was almost here. I scrambled to pull down my panties before the next contraction hit. I could hear the noises in the stadium, the crowd cheering and chanting, the final minutes being played. Meanwhile the baby was turning inside of me, the shoulders beginning to press and stretch me open once more. When the next contraction hit I submitted to it entirely, rocking forward and back with each push as my body worked hard to birth the babe. I roared and pushed with the final whistle of the match and raised up on my knees, my hands flying between my legs to catch my newborn baby.

“Oh my goodness… hi little one.” I sobbed as I brought the child up to my chest, wiping its face and blowing gently against their cheeks. The newborn gave a cough and started crying and relief and exhaustion took hold. That was when I noticed the crowd around the Exec Box was cheering. I crawled to the door, babe in arms, and awkwardly got back to standing.

Looking out across the pitch I could see my husband’s team had won, all the men jumping and hugging each other. I could spot my husband easily amongst the sea of coloured jerseys.

“That’s your daddy.” I said to the baby.

My husband looked up at the box, knowing where I’d be, and his jaw dropped when he saw me standing at the glass door, a newborn baby wailing in my arms.