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#and then he stays there for at least a week
gojonanami · 2 days
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“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”
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pairing: satoru gojo x reader
summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.
warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man
w/c: 1,184
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“I’m home!”
You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.
Now where was your home?
“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.
You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.
You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.
But even so, you know he needed more.
As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“
“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”
He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.
“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”
He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”
~~~
“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.
“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.
“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.
“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”
But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“
“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“
“But—“
“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.
“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.
“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”
“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.
“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.
He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”
“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.
“Promise.”
Bonus:
Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”
“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.
“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”
“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.
“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.
“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.
“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.
If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.
Your husband.
“Let’s see, hm?”
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a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.
taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains
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sincerelybubbles · 3 days
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i've noticed you
pairing: spencer reid x profiler!reader
warnings: fluff, not proof read (as is the usual oops), slightly slightly suggestive
word count: 2.6k
it's a late night in the office. dim light casts shadows across the bull pen. you squint your tired eyes to focus them on the document in your hand. hours have passed since everyone else went home but you stayed behind. something about pushing into the early hours of the weekend to finish off a long week is better for your mental health than leaving the documents for monday. the totality of closing the folder, marking it complete, and filing it away allows you to push the details of your cases to the back of your mind. you can't forget them entirely, of course, and nightmares still haunt you, but this is the best system you've found to make yourself feel better, even if only marginally.
a call of your name, soft and familiar, startles you. you jump, chair pushing back a few inches. you look up to see spencer standing in the doorway, giving you a confused look. his bag is strapped across his chest, hands clutching it, eyebrows raised. he's dressed more casually than you're used to: a plain blue shirt, khaki pants, his usual dress shoes. his hair is messy and his eyes look sleepy behind the confusion, like he'd only just woken up.
"hey, reid," you say, catching a yawn in the middle of saying his name. "you scared me."
"i could say the same to you. what are you doing here at," he checks his watch, flicking his wrist to right it in a movement that has your chest tightening. "3:46 in the morning on a saturday?"
"i could say the same to you," you mimic him, sending him a wide smile. you lift up your documents when he sends you an unamused look, waving the folder. "just finishing up before the weekend."
"you have over two weeks to have those reports filed, though?"
"helps me sleep better to have them done, i guess. you never answered me, though -- why are you here?"
"ironically, to help myself sleep," spencer answers, crossing the room in swift, long strides to reach his desk behind yours. he deposits his bag and turns to you, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "i get nightmares and sometimes the best thing to do is try to get some work done. helps my conscious, i guess. or, at least keeps me busy."
you nod and watch him make his way to the kitchen. "that makes sense."
"i'll be back," he calls to you over his shoulder.
you hear his return a few minutes later, eyes trained on your file again. you don't look up this time, now that you know who it is. you're too focused on finishing these last few documents and fully aware that it's sort of hard to stop looking at spencer once you start.
the gentle click of a mug hitting your desk grabs your attention, though, and you tear your eyes from the page to look up.
spencer is leaning across your desk, nudging a yellow mug toward you, smiling widely. your throat tightens, a quick flash of pleasant awareness of him, and you swallow it away.
"what's this?" you ask, reaching for the mug. he doesn't let go as you expected and your fingers brush against each other. he shrugs instead of answering, leaning back against the desk next to yours and taking a sip from his own mug.
"coffee."
you take a sip, surprised to find it made exactly how you like. you can't remember ever telling him what you like and your cheeks heat at the gesture. you're grateful that the only lamp on is yours, hiding the heat from him.
"how'd you know how i like it?" you ask, taking a sip.
"i pay attention," he says, eyes trained on yours.
"to people's coffee preferences?"
"to yours, sure."
before you can properly allow that to sink into your exhausted mind, spencer sets his mug on your desk before grabbing his own files. "mind if i join you?" he asks, dragging the nearest chair over. "at least until you go home for the night."
"yeah, sure, i could use the company," you say, clearing space for him.
||||
5:53 AM
you: [attached image]
you: i promise i'm on the way, just having the worst morning. once i get this tire fixed, i'll let you know
you sigh, throwing your phone in your bag and squatting down to examine your blown tire. you don't know what you hit but you do know it's the start to an already sour morning.
you slept with your window propped open, despite how many times you've seen that go poorly for victims, and it rained, drenching your curtains. you didn't get to pack a lunch after dealing with that and usually, you eat breakfast at the office, so now you're on the side of the wet road, blown tire, and late for the first time in years.
your phone buzzes twice and you stand to dig it out of your bag.
5:55 AM
morgan: bad morning, pretty girl?
hotchner: don't worry about it, stay safe.
you roll your eyes at morgan, chest feeling lighter at hotch's reply. you hadn't expected him to be angry, this wasn't something anyone could foresee, but his answer still lessens the anxiety in your chest.
you climb into your car, turning on the heat and holding your hands to the vent for a few moments. you sit there for a few minutes past when you've thawed, dreading reentering the wet morning to change the tire.
the sound of a car door opening and shutting grabs your attention and you look in the rearview to see spencer walking toward you, hitting the button to lock one of the company vans. he's holding a bag in his hands, walking briskly to avoid getting too wet in the morning mist.
you throw open the passenger door when he gets close enough and watch as he folds himself in the car, shutting the door and adjusting his jacket.
"hello," you say, amused, "fancy seeing you here. did hotch send you?"
"i volunteered, here." he hands you the bag. you look at him for a moment longer, watching as he fixes his hair. you return your focus to the bag when he looks over at you, embarrassed to be caught.
you find one of the kitchen muffins and a banana in the bag. you stare at it for a moment, fully aware that this is exactly what you eat most mornings at work.
"i know you usually eat at work and didn't know if you had anything here," spencer explains.
"you noticed that?"
"i noticed you," he says. your eyes snap up to meet his, heart fluttering in your chest. he doesn't look embarrassed, eyes meeting yours steadily.
you struggle to find words, heart beyond touched by the gesture. you end up muttering, "thank you, spencer."
"you're welcome." there's a moment's pause while you come to terms with the fact that this can no longer be considered one of your worst mornings. "also, there was betting about if you could change a tire."
"ah, so you're here because you didn't believe in me?"
"well," he says, cheeky, smiling over at you. "you are just sitting in your car, decidedly not changing your tire."
"i was working myself up to it!" you say in defense. it's insane to you how quickly he has shifted your mood in just a few minutes.
he shakes his head at you, smiling slightly, and pops his door open, "open the back," he says, stepping out.
you do as he says, opening the trunk and getting out after him.
"i really was going to do it, you don't have to," you say, following him around the back of the car and watching him shift the things around to find your spare tire.
"i got it. go sit in the car, it's cold." he rolls his sleeves up, sending you a look.
you watch his hands as he moves the fabric up, exposing his forearms. you swallow, mouth dry, as he moves to the other arm, wrists flexing and bringing his veins into focus.
"i'm not sitting in my car while you do all the work," you refute, voice wavering, tearing your eyes away from his hands. you feel like a silly schoolgirl, ogling at her crush. or, better yet, like a scandalized victorian man seeing a hint of ankle for the first time, entranced by the barest hint of innocent skin. still, under the heat of embarrassment, you can't stop yourself from shifting your weight from foot to foot watching him lift the tire from your trunk.
"why not?" he asks, carrying the donut under one arm and walking over to the flat tire. you watch him, entranced, as he crouches down to examine the flat.
"it feels wrong! really, spence," you say, walking over to him and leaning down to catch his forearm and get his attention. "you don't have to change it for me, i'm more than capable."
"i know," he says, turning to look up at you from under his lashes. he smiles, still just a hint at the corner of his lips, and nods toward the car. "still, go sit, it's cold."
"spence-" you start and he rolls his eyes, standing up so he can look down at you and crossing his arms.
he says your name lowly, leaning back against the car and raising an eyebrow. "get in the car, this will only take me a minute."
he doesn't wait for your answer, pushing himself off of the car and walking to the trunk to grab the tool kit. stunned and slightly turned on, you slowly walk back to the drivers side of the car.
"good, now eat, too," he calls.
you grab the bag of food when you sit down, letting your legs hang down outside of the car. he stands up straighter to see you over the hood of the car and grins at you, "thank you."
||||
hands sweating and heart racing, you press the button on the elevator and watch the door close. you clutch the little bag between two of your hands, rolling your head back to stretch it and stare at the ceiling.
you're a profiler, you know people, you know that your ever-growing crush on spencer is reciprocated. his face as he said "i noticed you" is the last thing you see before you sleep and you know you aren't misinterpreting the signs. still, anxiety pools when the elevator dings and you step off.
you roll out your shoulders and step into the bull pen with confidence you have to fake, putting a smile on your face and holding the little bag behind your back slightly.
"morning angel," penelope calls to you, swinging around the corner and linking her arm with yours. "did you have any fun hot dates this weekend? please say yes, i am in desperate need of someone to live vicariously through -- my love life is dry in all definitions of the word."
"sorry love," you say, patting her arm and sending her a sympathetic look. "still working on that plan i mentioned a few weeks ago."
"wait," she says, suddenly stopping and forcing you to as well. "really? because you were all gung-ho about maintaining a sense of workplace appropriate behavior and all of that other blah hr speak."
"well," you say with a shrug, smiling at the ground, "i don't know, can't a girl change her mind?"
"she most certainly can. in fact, i have right now!" you look up at her suddenly ultra cheerful voice and see spencer walking into the room, hands in his pockets and heading right for you with a smile as a greeting. "i have decided that i'm not walking you to your desk and we'll chat over lunch instead. bye!"
just as quickly as she arrived, penelope left, scampering away to her office with a grin stretching across her face. she's your best friend, the one person you tell everything, and also the source of your greatest annoyance, leaving you alone in the hallway.
"what was that about?" spencer asks, reaching you and stopping only half a step away.
"just garcia being garcia," you say, shrugging.
"well, goodmorning," spencer says, tucking his chin down to look at you better. "have a good weekend?"
"i did," you say, swallowing in a deep breath to steel your nerves. "i actually managed to go to that bookstore you told me about."
"oh really?" spencer asks, excitement animating his face. "did you talk to the store owner? she's super cool, i actually learned a lot from her about book binding last time i visited. she has a little workshop in the back."
"i did, actually. i had to get her help finding a specific book," you say, holding the bag out to him.
"oh, which one?"
"open it and see."
"it's for me?" spencer asks, looking genuinely caught off-guard. he takes the bag slowly, as if expecting you to rip it away. you nod encouragingly and he takes the cue to lift the paper out of the bag and then the book. "wait, no way. this is so cool! i've been searching for it for ages."
you watch as he opens the book and his eyes widen finding it signed. he slowly, reverently, flips the pages to look at the publication date and his eyes flick to meet yours.
"this is a first edition?"
"yeah."
"this is- how did you know?"
"i noticed you, too," you say, voice soft and hesitant. you take the half step forward so your toes are touching. surprisingly, your anxiety is nowhere to be found as you look up at him, smiling, chest warm and fingertips tingling. "i hope that's okay."
"beyond, actually," spencer answers, voice softer. the hand holding the bag and book falls, his other one lifting to your cheek, hesitant. he brushes his fingers across your cheekbone gently before moving his hand to cup the back of your neck and bringing you in for a hug. .
it's exactly how you expected hugging spencer to be, warm and all-consuming. he laughs, gentle, a vibration you can feel through his chest and into yours.
"what?" you ask, face buried in his chest.
"it's amazing how hard i'm fighting to not kiss you right now. i always thought i would be too nervous - i mean, obviously, i've kissed people before. not that that's what i should be talking about right now, but, i just mean, it's different with you. you make me happy in a way that makes me nervous, you know?"
"i know," you say, softly, cutting off his rambling with a hidden smile. he's still holding you in the empty hallway and you would love nothing more than to hear his rambling but you're also very aware that someone could walk in any moment.
you just hope that whatever this is leads to more of his thoughtless rambles - you've missed them, noticed how he's held himself back more, and you think nothing will make you happier than being the person he turns to with them.
"yeah. um, thank you. but now i'm not nervous, i'm just annoyed we're at work."
you laugh, pushing away from him, fixing his tie. "we have plenty of time, it's okay."
he doesn't say anything, his hand still on the back of your neck. instead, he slowly leans down to press his lips to your forehead. it's gentle, as if he's afraid the wrong move will break you or send you running, and you melt from it.
"plenty."
part two of it's a date will come soon!! i hope!!!! please take this as a peace offering <3 i got the idea of spencer changing a tire on my head and could NOT LET IT GO !!!! like i'm ngl, i made myself blush w this so i hope u all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it :)
also also!! i usually like to keep my notes short but this is a reminder that my asks/inbox are always open!! and i read every reblog and comment and smile and giggle like a little kid when i see them. you all make my day every day and ily u all
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: A new relationship means excitement, an uncontrollable craving for each other. When an early morning romp is interrupted with a scheduled weekly meeting, will you be able to keep your hands to yourself when Price begins to drone on? And if you can't, what will your lieutenant lover do once the meeting is over after you've tempted him for far too long?
Word Count: 7.8 k
Warnings:
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“Come on, just a quickie before you gotta go,” you try to bargain as you roll onto your knees on the mattress, moving to straddle yourself over top of Simon’s lap so that he can’t get out of your bed yet. “Promise I'll make it worth your while.”
You sit on his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he grabs onto your hips with those large hands, only his boxers and your panties keeping you apart. Gently you run your fingers through the short, dirty blonde hair at the back of his head before bending down to try enchanting him with your kiss to stay a little longer before you both have to start your day. You know if you can get him going, quick is the last thing it is going to be and all you want is more time in his company. It’s getting harder these days to let him go. 
Your lips meet and he sighs long and deep as he drinks you in. This new development in your relationship is only a couple months in the making, but you already have him in a chokehold that he can't seem to break free from. Goddammit your kiss is like heaven and he wants nothing more than to shove you back into the mattress and get lost in the ecstasy of your body all over again, but obligations of the job that you have so conveniently forgotten about are fast approaching this morning. As much as he hates it, clearly he’s going to have to be the responsible one. Christ, you aren’t making it easy when your pretty eyes are begging him for more as you pull agonizingly slow from his mouth and roll your hips over top of him. 
“We can’t,” he says with an agitated groan as he bites the corner of his lips so the pain will stop him from losing it and leaning back in; if he doesn’t show some restraint now it’s not going to happen. “Officer’s meetin’, ‘member? Don’t wanna start any rumors with our absence, do ya? Rather not have to have a discussion with Price today. So, ya best stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that ‘fore ya get us both in trouble. Cause ya know if I get started, I ain’t stoppin’.”
Fuck, is it that time of the week again already? You’ve nearly forgotten the date, so absorbed in having the hulking military lieutenant all to yourself over the weekend. Instantly your heart sinks as you realize that your request isn’t going to get fulfilled now, not if you want to keep this relationship on the down low. No, you don’t want your good thing ruined by stirring up trouble, no matter how much your body still trembles to be beneath him right now.
Fine, your hands are tied at this point, so you’ll just have to be strong and table this till later. Or at least… you’re gonna try. 
“Just can’t get enough of you,” you say, resigning defeatedly as you move to rest your forehead on his.
Eyes shut, he takes a few seconds just to enjoy the closeness with you before he speaks. “Later,” he reassures in a husky whisper. “Not like I can fuckin’ stay away from ya.”
A warm kiss is swiftly pinned to your temple and you sigh defeatedly before you move off of him to sit at his side. He gives you a look before he gets to his feet to find his clothes strewn about the floor, dressing as you watch on with hungry eyes until his body is covered once again. Instantly you are missing the sight of it now that it’s gone. Later already feels like a lifetime away as you fall back against your pillow with a groan and cover your eyes with your arm. 
The sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of a belt buckle lasts just a few more seconds, followed by the sound of heavy steps before you feel a depression next to you on the bed. A rough hand removes your arm from your face and you are met with those coffee eyes and cheeky smile poking out from beneath his half pulled down mask as he leans over top of you. “See ya at the meetin’, luv,” he says before leaving you with a quick kiss as he rushes to get out the door before that one small action ruins it all and he ends up getting you both caught from sticking around too long.
You watch the door shut behind him and in the silence that follows you can hear the sound of your heartbeat throbbing in your head. How are you meant to keep it together now?
Getting dressed feels like an impossible chore, but eventually you finish and arrive at the conference room with a bit of time to spare before the meeting starts. You enter the space and are immediately dragged into making small talk with a few of the others standing around the conference table, exchanging pleasantries till Price arrives. The heat in your cheeks struggles to dissipate from the morning and it is only made worse as a tall, burly figure enters a couple minutes later and makes his way to the back of the room as if it’s nothing. Your vision constantly darts over to that masked man in the corner as you chat, your pulse keeping your face hot because you can tell that he is doing the same, though the shadow created from the fabric covering his face gives him the advantage in keeping his dark eyes on you.
Trying to force his sight not to linger on you today isn’t an option, not when he can see the product of his kiss still spread through your face. It’s captivating to be in the presence of something like that belongs to only him, so why the hell would he not want to soak you all in? It’s like he is hypnotized. He hasn’t felt like this in a long, long time and to say he isn’t a little obsessed would be a complete lie. Just looking at you gets his pulse racing now and it’s almost instantaneous how he has to adjust the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly gotten a little tight as his body reacts to the sight of yours.
He’s gotta snap out of his insatiable craving right now or this meeting is going to be brutal to try and get through. Moving to the back of the table, he takes his seat to hide the bulge growing in his pants. That’s when a familiar voice rings through the room just the same as it has week after week and Simon feels like he can breathe a little easier.
“Mornin’ everyone,” the distinct voice of your superior is heard over the small crowd. “Let’s get started, shall we. Got things to do.”
Captain Price doesn’t waste any time, arriving precisely on the hour just as he always does and everyone immediately takes their seats just like clockwork. Good, now all he has to do is get through the hour and then you’ll go your separate ways until the end of the day. However, as he looks on as the chairs around the table get filled, he realizes that your usual seat towards the front already has a body sitting in it that isn’t yours and the only free chair left is at the back of the table right next to him.
Your eyes meet and your breath hitches as you see the empty spot beside him and it feels like you can’t get enough oxygen as you make your way over; no sense in prolonging your agony. Simon’s shoulders stiffen as you take your seat, the tension caused from your proximity making his mind hazy, even before Price begins to drone on about nothing of major significance. It’s all just daily reports and mandated updates from around the base, so it doesn’ take long before it all becomes background noise to the beating of his heart in his ears. 
You aren’t fairing any better as your mind begins to wander and it’s in that loss of attention that the trouble starts to brew. 
Sensory-filled memories of the past couple of nights play through your mind on repeat: sweaty, tangled limbs, burning kisses that steal your breath, ecstasy filling you up until all you can do is lay back and let it consume you; it’s the type of euphoria that could make you an addict if you're not careful enough. The vivid sensations associated with the images flooding through your mind chip away at your calm so that about halfway in your sanity has deteriorated. 
You cross your knees over one another and clamp your legs together to stop the ache blossoming between your thighs, but it does nothing to help. You have to do something to ease the agony because you cannot squeeze your legs together any tighter or the danger of you accidentally letting out a moan will become a real threat. Desperately your eyes dart around the room to try and focus on anything in particular, but there is nothing that grabs their attention until they stop back at the table in front of you and out of the corner of your sight you notice the top of Simon's thigh peeking out from under the table. Those juicy bits of his body that you know intimately as they have been pressed between your legs before are a magnet for your sight and suddenly there is a need that is awakened in you.
Fuck, now you have a new problem. The longer you look, the harder it gets. Imagination isn't enough anymore. Shoving your hands into the tight space between your crossed legs you try to bury the feeling, but your desire pleads with you to reach over and get a feel.
Just a little touch won’t hurt, right? 
He probably won’t even notice if you are careful enough, at least that's what you try to convince yourself of so you don't sound so fucking desperate. Maybe giving yourself a little treat will help ease the pain enough that you can move on. As Simon leans back in his chair, trying to adjust his position to keep himself focused on Price, you take that as a sign that you should just go for it.  
Simon notices the way you shift in your seat, inching in closer to the edge of the chair nearest his side. You pause for a few seconds before he catches you moving again and now your shoulders are almost touching. He wonders what you’re up to getting this intimate, but just as the question enters his mind more movement grabs his attention and he watches as you lean in and your shoulder twitches. Then he feels it, a delicate bit of pressure on his thigh that immediately sends him spiraling.
You have reached over and are now running your fingertips over the outer seam on the leg of his pants, but the moment you make the slightest contact with him a yearning blossoms in your chest so strong that you can’t stop yourself and your fingers begin to wander thoughtlessly. Soon you find your touch on the outer edge of his thigh and then the middle and still you can’t force yourself to stop.  
Simon risks a look down into the shadow underneath the table only to see your arm stretched out and your hand creeping in towards the middle of his lap. He pries his sight back up and catches you peeking over at him from the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet and your chest begins to rise and fall more heavily than it had a few seconds ago as you shoot him a tempting look.
Oh, so this is what’s going to happen today; his strength of will is going to be tested. Fuck.
Carefully and quietly, Simon repositions himself in his seat. Without turning his face at all, he inclines his head to the side so that it is nearly pressed against yours. “Ya sure ya wanna start this?” he growls his question in a whisper near your ear, yet he does nothing else as he sits back up straight. 
Your hand continues on undeterred and makes it in between his thighs without any resistance; it’s clear that neither of you were finished with what was trying to be started this morning as a small peak already meets your hand before you’ve even done anything.   
Simon exhales a shaky breath as your hand makes contact with the crotch of his pants and it takes all his willpower to hold steady as you run your hand over the mound just under the zipper. Thank God he’s wearing his jacket today, otherwise the way his chest starts to heave with each labored breath as you stroke your palm consistently over the swell would give him away to everyone here. Behind the mask, his mouth hangs open slightly as he forces himself to quietly pant as if under duress. 
Being this close to him, you can hear the change in his breathing and those subtle deviations in his respiration guide your movements further. You press down and he has to bite his lip until he tastes that first bit of copper to keep himself under control. And yet he doesn't pull your hand away… because he doesn't want to. His pretty thing needs to feel him, he isn’t going to deny that. It’s a risk, but it’s one he is more than willing to take just to keep you locked in this moment with him.
Over and over you go in with insatiable intent, stroking until the tip of his thick cock throbs with his pulse against your touch as a throbbing of your own. The sound of your captain is barely a faint whisper at this point as all of your  awareness is focused solely in the silent tension shared between you and your lover as your hand draws him closer and closer to release just from the pressure alone. 
The tingle in his lap radiates out in waves that make his limbs feel heavy and causes a cold sweat to break out across his skin and just as Simon thinks that he can’t take a second more of stimulation because he’s going to burst, the meeting finally comes to an end. Quickly you have to pull your hand back out of his lap as your fellow officers’ attentions are no longer focused towards the front of the room and you pray that they can’t see the way your body shudders. 
You don’t dare get out of your seat yet; at this point your legs are like jelly and you are sure that if you try to stand you will make a fool of yourself by stumbling around. Instead, you pull out your phone to pretend you are making a note of something important as everyone leisurely files out until all that is left is you and Simon in the empty room. 
He hasn’t said a word since his cautionary question, instead moving out of his seat the moment he could to lean up against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The last person makes it out and yet he’s still standing there soundlessly as if he is waiting for something, his shadowed gaze locked onto your form. 
Eventually you calm yourself enough to make it out of your seat and back onto your feet without falling. You take a few steps to leave and you nearly make it out of the room before the door is promptly pushed shut in your face and Simon places himself directly between you and the exit. Instantly you are stopped in your tracks and you stand there curiously as that familiar click from the lock being engaged is heard and the room falls silent, not even the sound of people coming and going can be heard on this side of the door. 
“What was that, hmm?” he asks in fake anger, his bright eyes giving him away even with the mask covering the majority of his features.
You shrug. “What are we talking about?” you ask in return with a tilt of your head. Ever the little actress, it seems.
He chuckles deeply as a spark flashes through the irises of his eyes to make them shine the way an animal’s does before it goes in for the kill. You know exactly what that look means. “Playin’ games, are ya?” he asks. “Or did ya already forget the way you were just tryin’ to make me come?”
“Is there a problem?” you ask back as the corner of your lip upturns ever so subtly. 
He takes a step towards you and you move back with it; another and you do the same. This continues only a few more paces until you run out of space and back into the edge of the table, allowing Simon to move in without a problem until his body is within a few feet of yours. Reaching out with one of those large hands he wraps it around your wrist and pulls your arm forward into him. 
“Oh, we ‘ave a big fuckin’ problem now, sweet,” he groans as he takes your hand and pins the palm just to the side of the zipper on his pants. You don’t even have to look down to know what he’s talking about as there is a hard, stiff peak that meets your touch; the tip of his cock strains against your hand as he presses your palm down over it. “See what ya did?” 
An unintentional moan escapes your lips at the feeling that you try to disguise with a cough, but Simon has already caught it. With a hook of his thumb under the cloth of his mask, he pries it up off of his mouth and in the same motion he jerks your arm past his body to pull you in the miniscule distance still between you both so that you are now plastered to his chest. Since his mask isn’t an issue anymore, his hand captures your chin in its grip and he holds on firmly. 
The intense domination of the movement feels like an ambush on your sanity and with that one simple motion he already has your heart fluttering just like he wants. You’ve played your little game and gotten him riled up, and it’s got him craving you so bad he can hardly keep his thoughts straight. Now it’s his turn at it and he isn’t going to stop until he has chipped away at your resolve so that you want him just as badly. 
Keeping his grip tight on your chin he cocks your head to the side to move it out of his way as he leans his face in towards the soft, tender skin that has been revealed to him just under your jawline. 
“Now, how’re we gonna fix this? Can’t go ‘round wit this thing at full attention,” his balmy breath travels over your skin as his lips rub along the side of your neck, the tip of his nose catching that sweet spot just behind your earlobe. 
The very faint stumble covering the lower half of his face prickles your skin as he presses his lips against you gently at first to let the feather-light pressure tantalize the flesh around that pulsing vein under your jawbone. He can feel it begin to race under his touch the quicker your heart pumps and he has to force himself to take a breath. To observe the physical reaction you have to him, to feel the way you come alive in his hands, it’s enough to bring him to his knees and if he isn’t careful he can easily lose himself.     
“Ya owe me–” he trails his kisses upward until his lips are pressed along your jaw “for–” those heated kisses keep going over the contour until he hovers right over your mouth, lips ghosting over yours just out of reach “–all that teasin’.”
You attempt to move in and collapse the distance between your mouths to zero, but his hold on your face keeps you at bay. Again you struggle to embrace his mouth and again he pulls you back and it’s clear what the game is now. If you want his kiss on your lips, you are going to have to meet his conditions. 
“What do you want?” you ask coyly as if there is anything else that he could possibly be after at this moment. 
Simon runs the tip of his stout tongue over the middle of his bottom lip as he stares at yours, the skin on your mouth growing redder with each erratic inhale of breath you take, before he drifts his gaze back up the short distance to your eyes. He admires how they shimmer with unspoken wants as he meets them again. 
You know full well that the door is locked, Simon is certain you heard him secure it since you were close. That means you both are cut off from the rest of the base while in here and with the meeting over, there is no reason for anyone to come around. The room is yours for as long as you want.
“Well, we’re all alone, luv,” he says. 
“Mmhmm,” you agree as if he’s asked a question.
Taking both his hands, he cradles the back of your head as his thumbs rest against your cheeks and he takes a step so that his hips block your body against the table. He inches in ever so carefully, making sure that his lips will not touch yours, but be just close enough that the agony caused from their proximity will make you fucking burn to feel them. It’s a game that he has perfected over his time with you and one he prides himself on being the master of. 
“Ya know what I fuckin’ want.” 
The heat from his warm breath wafts over your lips to make them tingle from the change in temperature. This close you can finally catch the scent of his natural musk mixing with the sharp notes of his spicy cologne and the smell reminds you of your sheets where the fragrance still lingers. It is overwhelming your senses until you feel delirious and out of control. 
“Wanna take ya on this fuckin’ table,” he breathes into your face in a growl the comes from somewhere deep inside. “Can’t wait.”
His voice is pure sex on a good day, but in these moments when his full attention is on you as he plays up the sultry notes of his tone to match his growing need, you can’t help the way you squeeze your legs together as a shudder of pleasure runs like icy water straight through to your core. 
“Undo - your - pants,” he orders, his deep, heavily accented voice breathy, but firm. “Now.”
Your pulse is pounding in your ears with your short, quick breaths and he takes the moment to tempt you further by having the tip of his tongue gracefully slither out of his mouth to catch the edge of your upper lip, lightly grazing the inner bit so that you shiver and it takes all your strength not to buckle at your knees and stumble in his grasp.  
Finally gaining control of your limbs through the haze spreading in your mind you move your hands over your abdomen, using touch alone to find the fastener at the front of your pants as he holds your head in place, forcing you to keep your eyes focused on him. Finally you locate the button and as swiftly as your shaky fingers can manage, you fidget with it till it opens and you can guide down the zipper. 
A ravenous grin spreads across Simon’s lips at the sound of your clothes being shed. It’s Pavlovian the way it immediately makes his mouth salivate with anticipation as he knows that soon he is about to enjoy a feast that includes all your delicious curves ready and begging for his special brand of ecstasy.
You’ve done what he’s asked and now you desperately want your reward, but you should know by now it isn’t going to be that easy. He is a man of mutual obsession and you’ve only barely just started to ache with the overwhelming intensity that he wants; he needs you in shambles just like he’s had to be this whole time as you stroked him under the table.  
“Please,” you plead tacitly as multiple words seem too cumbersome to have in your mouth.
Simon shakes his head. “Not yet. Push ‘em down,” he demands. “Take ‘em off.”   
You scramble to follow his dictation and grab onto the waistband of your pants, jerking them down over the curve of your rear and continuing until they are past your calves, slipping out of your boots so that you can step out of the fabric now bunched at your ankles. You stand back up straight and immediately those rough fingers are outlining the band on your panties just below the hem of your shirt and each time they graze over the tender skin of your pelvis, you gasp inaudibly into his face as the electricity from his touch makes your skin tingle. 
As one hand plays, the other that is cradled at the base of your skull draws your face to him. “Ya got me wantin’ ya so bad it fuckin’ stings,” he admits. “Is that what ya want, sweetheart? Ya want me a goddamn mess wheneva you’re around?”
His thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth as he drags it over your bottom lip and the action takes your breath so you have to forcefully catch it. “I want you to want me as bad as I want you,” you answer as your heartbeat hiccups in your chest.
Simon chuckles. “Greedy girl,” he says, drawing out the words, his voice getting more and more gravely. “Ya know how fuckin’ hard I was strugglin’ to not just throw ya on the table and take right there in front a everyone? Ya got me outta my goddamn mind insane for ya with just a touch.”
You look up at him with starry eyes, the kind of sight that makes him feel like you think he’s hung the fucking moon for you. “Take…me now…” you beg.
He can feel you tremble in his hands as you plead for your sanity and it pushes him to his breaking point. “That what ya want?” he asks. “Let me hear it, sweet.”
You nod without even having to think about it. “Please, Simon. Please. I haven’t stopped needin you since this morning. Just give it to me.”
Fuckin’ hell he is going to absolutely wreck you after that.
Tilting his head to one side he moves in and with a sharp inhale of breath before the plunge, he hauls your mouth to his and crashes his lips on yours. The deadly potency in his embrace knocks the little bit of air you just drew in from your lungs and in an instant you are left gasping for breath again while not wanting him to pull away.  
That huge, hulking body with all of its bulky muscles overwhelms your own as he pins himself harder against you, pushing your hips together to grind that stiff peak roughly against you with rocking movements, hips rolling into you again and again until you join him as your frantic fingers rip the jacket off his shoulders and down his arm so that you can feel his skin under your hands.   
His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, desperate kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion. The contrast between the rough way he embraces you with the delicately smooth feel of his lips is a sensory overload in the best way. Those long fingers of both of his hands are now tangled in the strands of your hair at the back of your head, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the harshness of his lips as he claims your mouth as his. 
You match his energy and your fingers find the hem of his mask that still clings to his face and you slip them up underneath to pry it off the rest of the way so that you can caress the back of his head and make him buckle from the shiver as you run your fingertips over his scalp. He holds you tighter as a blunt grunt of pleasure vibrates up from his chest and he breathes it into your open mouth for you to swallow down. He is so caught up in the passion of the moment that he nips aggressively at your lower lip until you gasp as it stings so good. 
The warmth from his breath tingles along the raw skin of your mouth as he buries his nose in your cheek the harder he pushes in. No matter how close you are, it isn’t enough; he wants…no he needs to be closer. He isn’t sure yet if he likes being the type of man that goes feral with an insatiable appetite for his lover, but if you are going to be greedy with wanting his attention he is going to be greedy in the way he reciprocates it.
You are suddenly on the move as Simon easily slides his strong hands up under your arms and picks you up to set you on top of the sturdy table, tugging behind your knees to pull you forward so that you are at the very edge of the surface. You hadn’t realized how warm you are until the instant the cool table touches the bare skin on the back of your legs.
A hum vibrates in his chest as he rubs the length of your thighs before he lockes his hands around them to pry them apart and moving in with his palm, he slides it up into the crotch of your panties and cups his wide hand up over your sex.
“F-fuck,” you whimper as he presses down to pin your lips up into your clit. “I need…I need…”
“Whatcha need, sweet?” he asks through panting breaths as he pulls back and pushes in again, making you squeak out a high pitched whine. “Tell me, use your words.”
You swallow hard. “Need… your fingers…” you struggle to say as he does the same maneuver again.
“Does that sweet little clit need my attention?” he asks. “Achin’ for my touch? Ya think I should jus’ give it to ya after the mess ya made a me when I couldn’t even get at ya yet?”
He keeps his hand pinned down and the pressure makes your hips buck in reaction. “I know… I know…” you stammer out the sloppy confession as you fight to create any words at all. “Couldn’t help it.”
If he had been in a more calm state, he would have liked to tell you to get yourself started to see how you’d follow his directions, and then if you did a good enough job he would come in, but Simon wants to feel you just as much as you crave his touch. The strangle you have on his sanity is making him lose it fast and there isn’t much time he is going to be able to spare, but even in his inebriated state as he slowly drowns in your ecstasy, his mind concocts a devilish plan. 
Maybe he can have both his cake and finger it too.
Suddenly he takes your hand in his, wrapping his larger one over top while making you match the way his two middle fingers stick out with yours, and forces them both to descend down the tingling skin of your lower abdomen into the front of your underwear as he rests against you with foreheads touching. Working your combined fingers in tandem, Simon parts through the lips of your pussy and moves both sets right up against that tiny bundle of nerves just above your core.
“Already wet, pretty girl?” he groans with a hiss as his finger makes contact with a bit of warm moisture once inside. “Not enough, though. I want ya fuckin’ drippin’ for me. And we’re gonna do this how I want. Now we’re gonna make ya a mess so I don’t feel so alone.”
It hasn’t left his mind that this isn’t the safest place to be, that even though the room is only used on those weekly occasions when Price gathers his personnel to keep everyone up to speed, even though the space is vacated and the door locked, there is no guarantee that someone won’t try and get in. He has to be quick, but he is going to do this right. 
Simon expertly guides your finger over your clit in that very distinct way that he does it, rubbing in concise circles over the nub with both of your fingers, using a bit of light pressure as your knees fall apart to give him more access and it doesn’t take long until your mouth falls open so that all those pretty sounds can escape unhindered just as you know he likes.
Their sound only adds fuel to his desire. Having him pilot your movements, forcing you to pleasure yourself under his control, adds another level of euphoria that he had not previously thought possible. Fuck, does he feel powerful to take you like this, both of you working together until your wetness dribbles down his fingers as the heat warms his hand.  
His face is so close to yours that he can use your breath to fill his lungs as he runs out of air; the only thing he wants to sustain his life at this moment. Breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you; he only wants to be consumed by you like a man possessed. He has never needed anyone in the way he needs you and the more he causes you to sing, the more he has to be sure that no one else can ever satisfy you the way that he can. It’s his mission now to completely ruin you for anyone else.
Your legs start to shake as the pressure continues to build from the sensitivity and your calves crush his hips as a pitiful whimper you let out sends him over the edge and drives him insane in his already weakened state. There is no stopping the feral part of his brain from taking over to guide his movements and suddenly your clit isn’t the only thing he wants to play with; he needs to fill you.
You can feel your hand on the move, slithering down until the tips of both your fingers reach your entrance. And quickly they ascend up into you to stretch you out as your legs vibrate, the flood of blood to your cheeks making your face burn like you’re on fire as he keeps shoving up inside until he reaches the amalgamation of your combined knuckles. He keeps his eyesight down to watch the way your hands make your panties bulge as your pussy is filled with the both of you.
The unexpected fullness causes your back to arch and your head to fall back as you struggle to stifle a desperately loud cry from being stretched. Instantly Simon drags your head up and harshly connects your lips with overwhelming savagery to stop the sound from getting out, sucking it down his throat with his mouth pressed to you so securely as you continue to groan in short bursts until you finally are able to calm yourself enough to keep your volume down.  
Your body grips both of your fingers tight as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements, unable to calm down. The harder he goes the more dampness covers the fingers inside you and it drips down onto the back of his hand and begins to stick to the inside of your thighs. Your walls flutter around his fingers the more they swell and that lets him know that you’re close. His pulse is racing to feel it, that moment you come; no single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than being the reason you fall apart.
Your hips begin to grind onto your hands for more friction. “Fuck…fuck…” you mutter in agony under your breath. It’s nearly there, just a bit more. 
Stroking and grinding, stroking and grinding, it feels like an eternity stuck at the edge of that cliff as the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, but suddenly and without warning, like a wave washing over you, that warmth reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge.  
Simon makes you ride out your orgasm on your fingers until you settle and only then does he gently pull your hands out from your still quivering core and up out of your panites, never letting you go. He holds them up and your fingers glisten with the product of his work under the fluorescent lighting. After taking a few seconds just to admire the way they look he locks eyes with you and holds your gaze as he brings those coated digits on your hand straight up to his mouth and sucks them inside that wet cavern. He uses his tongue to swirl around your fingers to clean them, sucking on them thoroughly to get all the taste of you off and you nearly faint from the erotic nature of his action. 
The way he has no shame when it comes to enjoying every bit of you is staggering to behold. He is insatiable and you can’t get enough.
Giving your hand back, Simon steps up right against you between your legs as his hand slips between your bodies and he shifts his hips slightly so that he can undo his belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally pull down the zipper. Sticking his hand inside the shadowed recesses of his boxers, he pulls out and releases that thick, veiny appendage that has been throbbing for far too long without relief. It stands at attention and bobs with his pulse, a mouth-watering view of all that girth ready just for you. 
The knuckle of his finger bushes over your still overly sensitive cunt as he hooks the digit into the seam at the crotch of your ruined panties and jerks them to the side out of his way before the tip of his cock presses into your petals. So slowly he guides himself past that first barrier in through your lips and carefully he strokes his cock in your cum, coating himself in the heated moisture his touch produced. 
Calloused fingers suddenly divide through the strands of your hair at the back of your head so that his grip is securely woven into you as the others dig into your hip. “You drive me wild, pretty girl,” he says with covetous aggression, “but if ya ain’t careful, I may not be able to contain myself like I did today. So unless ya want me ta fuck ya in front a everyone, you’re gonna wait till we’re alone to start things, yeah?”
You nod in agreement.
“Then I’ll make sure ta get ya so fuckin’ good,” he whispers as he pulls out just enough so that he adjust himself to align his swollen tip with your entrance. “Won’t let ya go till you’re satisfied, promise.” 
He prods against the opening, pushing up against it until you feel drunk on the feeling of anticipation as you wait impatiently for when he finally thrusts hard enough to get all that girth in. “Lift your hips,” he hurriedly demands and you lean back on your hands to help angle your pelvis upward.
Those coffee-colored eyes meet yours one last time as his hand gives your hair a tug. “Let’s finish this right, yeah?” he breathes and his hips snap forward as he pulls yours down.
The moment the tip breaks through the threshold of your body you both involuntarily share a gasp between your open mouths. You are so wet and clearly more than ready to take him, but he still has to pace himself getting in or else he’s going to come before he’s had a chance to really fuck you good. Still your body sucks him in every single inch he gives you until he reaches the base of his shaft where he pauses. 
The width of his cock pushes against your walls until they form around the contours perfectly and his hand on your hip burrows harder into the skin in an attempt to let any other feeling get through the overwhelming sensation of being inside you so that he can last. He focuses back on your face where your eyes are shut tight and something about that just won’t do. He wants those blown-out pupils that rest behind closed lids to be fixated on him as if he is the only thing in the entire fuckin’ world that you crave to look at.
Because you are the only thing in his.  
“Eh, eyes on me, sweet,” he growls desperately to get your attention back. “Need ta fuckin’ see ‘em. That’s it, just like that.”
You open your eyes and your aching gaze renders Simon speechless. How in the fuck did he get so lucky to call you his and why in the hell didn’t he make that happen sooner? Without any more of a pause he begins to thrust in and out of you with a ferocity that makes your body burn as his desire overtakes him. Each stroke stretches you out more until the sting subsides and all that’s left is the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you to the brim on all of his passion for your body as the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space, accentuated by the sound of threads snapping as your panties are stretched to the point of ripping. Panting heavily into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon unleashes himself upon you.
“Fuck,” he says, jaw hanging slack with desire, “wish ya could see how pretty ya look right now.”
Harder and harder he thrusts into you until the table begins to rock with him as he shoves his fat cock as far up into you it almost hits the back of your cervix. He desperately tries to keep the pace even, but it is reaching the point of no return.  
“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stutters with a groan low and guttural as he starts the feel that pressure again building at the base of his spine, ready to shoot through him at any second of he keeps this up. “So fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough of ya.”
You buck against him, meeting his movements with your own as you use your legs wrapped around his hips as leverage. The risky nature of your triste barely registers anymore as the stimulation from his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over again inside you clouds all your thoughts except one: the need to come. And it is fast approaching the longer he goes until it is right fucking there; all he has to do is keep going.
“Shit, don’t stop Simon,” you plead in distress to him, your toes curling into the air as you focus on your erratic breathing. 
“Tha’s it, sweet, come for me,” he growls, “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” 
His pace is relentless as he pumps with those powerful thrusts that bury him deep within you, unyielding and relentless with his need to render you completely satisfied. And just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. You squeak out in a whine before you clamp your lips together tight to make sure you can stay as quiet as you can as you ride out the depth of your pleasure on his cock. God, it doesn’t stop, second after second it just keeps building stronger and stronger. Simon does not let up and soon you are whining from the over-stimulation.
He isn’t far behind though and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been building to this point twice now finally shoots through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out of you and through your thighs as he pulls up your shirt over your tits to cover your stomach in sticky semen as he comes hard.
Leaning forward, Simon opens his mouth and latches it fully onto your collarbone through the fabric of your shirt, digging his teeth into the muscle to keep himself quiet as he milks himself dry with your thighs. He grinds up into those juicy bits of your legs as he grunts laboriously into the muscle of your shoulder so that it vibrates from the intensity while his wide hips continue rolling upward until he has nothing left to give and his shoulders slump forward with exhaustion as he comes to a stop.   
The muscles of his arms are shaking as he releases your shoulder from his mouth. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he says out of breath, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, “I ain’t ever been to a meetin’ that ended this way, but Christ should they.” 
You chuckle as you incline up into his face to catch his mouth in your embrace. Releasing his lips, you are met with a contented smile as he strokes your cheek sweetly with his thumb. You both know you need leave, you’ve spent too much time here already, but Simon just can’t let you go. At least, not yet. Not when you look so good in that post-coital hazy state of bliss that it makes his heart flutter.  
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 hours
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
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this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life. 
Neither of you speak. 
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. 
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 
“Love you back?”
You blink. 
Your stomach drops. 
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 
What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 
He swallows. 
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 
“Wait.”
He says your name.  
And of course you pause. 
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink. 
And for some reason, begin sobbing. 
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath. 
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 
“How could I not be so in love with you?” 
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog. 
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 
Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 
And he’s laughing. 
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly. 
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod. 
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 
“Hey.” 
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised. 
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 
But at the same time—everything’s different. 
And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
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lornaka · 2 days
Text
My five cents on Tech’s fate in TBB
It’s been over three weeks since the show ended and I’ve been writing this in my head ever since, mostly to have it summed up in one post for posterity lol. I considered letting it go at this point but I know it’ll drive me crazy if I don’t get it out of my system so might as well.
So here we go, some of my rambly post-finale thoughts on Tech’s death (and a few other issues) under the cut!
Disclaimer: while this post is in critical spirit (because that’s how my brain works), I want to make clear that I have nothing but respect and gratitude towards everyone who’s worked on the show. My criticisms are of the final story as a whole as I interpret it (art is art, everything is subjective, you know the drill), but one never knows what goes into the process of making it behind the scenes, so I’m not holding anything against the creative team. I love this show dearly and am in awe of how good it is at its best, despite certain things I wish they did differently.
To begin, if I had to sum up the biggest problem that TBB writing suffers from, it would be lack of closure, and too many red herrings. Not just for Tech, but many things. Major plot threads as well as little character moments are cultivated or thrown in just to never culminate in anything or to be immediately discarded after serving the plot, some of them incredibly misleading. Some of the top examples:
- Crosshair’s chip. We never get an exploration of how the trauma of his chip activating and being left behind not only affected his motivation and choice to stay with the Empire, but his relationship with his brothers. While it was made fairly obvious, if subtly, that Crosshair became free of the chip’s influence after getting hit by the ion engine on Bracca, the narrative treated this change as if it didn’t matter at that point, while it obviously mattered a lot within the context of Crosshair’s character. Add to that all these little details with him clutching his head in s1 finale, Omega expressing her disappointment in him, and Tech’s comment on how “it is just his nature” (as if it matters!!! See what I mean about the narrative treating Cross’s chip as if it didn’t play the key part in his trajectory? They throw in this line, like we are supposed to take away that it’s simply Crosshair being Crosshair and not like, the results of brainwashing and abandonment), Wrecker blaming Crosshair for not going back to them, all while we as the audience have been shown and told repeatedly how these chips work (and so were the Batch), we ended up with an incredibly confusing situation with lots of mixed signals from the writers. And once Crosshair makes his choice to stay with the Empire in s1 finale, his chip and the confusion it brought to his relationship with his brothers is never brought up again, because the plot simply moves on.
- Cid’s betrayal. After her being a major character for two seasons with a continuous relationship build-up with Omega in particular, she is discarded as soon as her betrayal serves the plot, with all that character development getting thrown out of the window. You can be mad at Cid all you want, but to me it’s incredibly weird and wasteful to end two seasons worth of build up on that note without it having any closure for the characters, especially Omega whose whole theme is trusting people and bringing out the best in them. It’s fine if they decided to make Cid exactly what she appeared on the surface (untrustworthy and self-serving) after playing around with her potentially growing through her fondness of Omega, but then at the very least the betrayal should’ve had an impact on the characters, Omega most of all. Even just one casual line from Omega in s3 about how Cid’s betrayal impacted her emotionally, however minimally, would have solved that problem. And no, CX-2 mentioning how he extracted info on Phee from her off screen absolutely doesn’t count as closure, because I’m talking about emotional closure for the main pov characters as well as the audience. Cid had a presence for two seasons, then as soon as she executed her role as a traitor to further the plot, she was discarded like she was a random extra.
- Emerie’s relationship with Hemlock. We are led to believe that he basically raised her, instilling in her the idea that she had no chance without him and owed her purpose and “safety” to him. You can’t tell me that this didn’t deeply affect her struggle and eventual decision to break away from all that and choose to help the kids, basically betraying Hemlock. I get that the show only had so much screen time and Emerie is a supporting character in season 3 at best, but common, she has more tension with Dr. Scalder than Hemlock while the potential for this rich deep conflict between them is right there.
I can probably list more smaller examples but this is getting long and I don’t want to go on any more tangents, so, finally, the biggest example of lack of closure and tendency of TBB writing to display foreshadowing that leads nowhere:
Tech’s death.
First of all, I’ll die on the hill that it wasn’t denial or delusion that led to such a big portion of the audience to believe that Tech didn’t really die in s2. If we look at the facts:
- there was no body
- it’s the finale of season 2 out of 3, pretty early for one of the main titular characters to get killed off
- the only/last character to allegedly see Tech after his fall is a villainous scientist who is known to experiment on clones specifically
- not a fact but: the whole scene with Hemlock presenting Tech’s goggles to Hunter was incredibly suspicious. In hindsight, I think the whole purpose of it was so that the Batch got Tech’s goggles back in their possession as a memento (and to show how evil Hemlock is to rub it into Hunter’s face like that) but it was executed in a way that read as something much more. It read as if Hemlock was going out of his way to convince us/Hunter of Tech’s death, but with us knowing who Hemlock is, his background in experimenting on clones, everything screams at us to not trust a word he says. Is it really so surprising that so many of the viewers immediately jumped at the conclusion that something more was going on there?
- Hunter’s (lack of) reaction/immediate narrative fall-out. More on that later as I address lack of emotional impact of Tech’s death in s3.
- it’s Star Wars. And there was no body.
So yeah, to me, it is completely justified that so many people read that whole thing as open to speculation at the very least, foreshadowing Tech’s survival at most.
Personally, I was 70% sure Tech was truly dead prior to s3, but not because the text told me so, but because at that point I was used to the show’s writing regularly sending out mixed signals, and a part of me was resigned to Tech’s death becoming another example of the writer’s intent clashing with their accidental empty foreshadowing.
As season 3 aired and the whole CX-2 plot was unfolding alongside continued lack of closure for Tech’s fate, my hope for Tech Lives reveal grew and grew, but in the end my initial doubt was proven right, unfortunately.
Oh, CX-2.. what a mess. You can’t tell me the creators went over all of these scenes, all of these lines, looked at the whole picture and *didn’t* see how it was incredibly easy to interpret CX-2 as potentially being Tech with all these little potential parallels. “Domicile” alone.
If they didn’t want us to entertain the idea that it could be Tech, they could’ve done it differently, but for some reason, they chose to leave that space for speculation. My question is, why?
If they truly wanted us to believe Plan 99 was it, Tech’s Noble End that we were supposed to take as this dramatic super emotional ultimate sacrifice and all that, then why would they not make it clear that CX-2 couldn’t be Tech? Why breed confusion? And breed confusion they did. It’s hard for me to believe they didn’t foresee the “ohh is it Tech?” speculation.
When so many members of the audience immediately and individually jump at a theory or have the same take away from the story they are being told, yet the authors say it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, something went seriously wrong with the writing.
I don’t like to speculate on such things because we will probably never know for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had at some point considered CX-2 being Tech or at least something more for the whole CX plot thread, but changed and reshuffled things at the last minute for whatever reasons.
Which is fine and understandable. But it brings me to the heart of my biggest issue with how Tech’s fate was handled:
lack of impact and closure.
Let’s disregard all the Tech Lives theories for a moment and focus on what we did get: Tech, one of the main characters, getting killed off at the end of s2 out of 3, for stakes and consequences and NOTHING else. When I say nothing, I mean nothing.
Imagine, for a moment, he survived and stayed with the Batch. Nothing would have changed, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing. We wouldn’t have had a few obligatory “Tech mention, everyone feel sad now” throwaway lines/goggle shots and whatnot, sure, but that’s it.
Tech dying didn’t change the trajectory of the plot in any way, nor did it affect any of the other characters in a way that changed their trajectory. And anything less is simply not enough to justify killing one of your main characters. Stakes and consequences ain’t it.
Consider Mayday, for example: a supporting character, but his death in s2 affected Crosshair in such a way it completely redirected his journey, AND in s3 we got an episode that cemented the impact Mayday had on Crosshair and provided emotional closure for them. That’s a narratively meaningful death.
Tech’s death was not meaningful to the narrative beyond removing him from it. That’s why so many Tech fans insist he deserved better treatment: not only was he not present in one third of the show physically, but he lacked any sort of presence even in death. His absence was never processed or grieved by any of the main characters and so by extension by the audience.
And before anyone starts with the whole ‘they are soldiers/they had no time to grieve/etc’ arguments, it is the responsibility of the writers to provide the space for all of that emotional impact. It they don’t, there is no impact.
A few reactions here and there, moments of missing Tech as a person and a brother, not an asset, anything would have made this whole thing easier to accept.
The lines that we did get, from Omega mentioning the stuff Tech taught her to Echo commenting on how decryption would be easier if Tech was with them to “Clone Force 99 died with Tech” from Crosshair - each and every single one of those lines linked to Tech’s functions as part of the squad, his usefulness, but we didn’t get a single line in remembrance of him as a person of his own, no one missed or remembered him for himself or his personal impact on them.
Just one line from Omega about how he taught her about change being a constant part of life or whatever, or Wrecker making a comment on how Tech used to info dump about stuff, anything would have instantly provided that much needed sense of “he was here, he was a person and is still a part of us”. Instead, Tech was killed off to show that messing with the Empire is dangerous and risks are real, I guess, and immediately lost any and all presence within the story.
We never even got to see Crosshair’s or Phee’s reactions to losing him.
Speaking of Crosshair, that’s a whole other example of complete lack of closure: they never closed the loop on the family being reunited again after initially leaving Crosshair behind, and with Tech dead, it’ll forever stay broken.
They could’ve given this a bittersweet yet meaningful spin if they developed the angle of Tech dying on a mission to bring Crosshair home, making a sacrifice so Crosshair had a chance.
Instead, the moment Tech dies, we get Hunter (and through him, the narrative) immediately abandon the idea/plot thread of going to rescue Cross all while saying “let’s not waste Tech’s sacrifice”. Sacrifice for what? Clearly Hunter doesn’t see it as a sacrifice for Crosshair’s sake, so, what, to make sure the rest of them makes it from the mission? The mission to save Crosshair. That mission. Right.
I see people talking about Tech’s noble sacrifice that ensured his family got to live and eventually have their happy ending, but all I can think about is how the creators chose to have him die on a mission that was immediately abandoned and the only take away from that whole sub plot was Tech’s own demise.
And after Crosshair is back with the Batch, his reaction to Tech’s death is never explored at all.
So yes, to me Tech deserved so much better. If you are going to kill off a major character, it must be necessary to be compelling. The way I see it, Tech’s death was not necessary at all because it didn’t change anything. And if it was meant to, the creators failed to communicate that by choosing not to explore the emotional impact of it and not structuring certain story beats in a more precise manner.
To wrap this up, if the way Tech’s death was handled was satisfying for you, that’s valid and I’m glad for you. For me, unfortunately, it’s completely the opposite and will forever remain the biggest and most unfortunate low point in the story.
And while I welcome anyone to share their own perspective if they wish, please don’t take this post as an invitation for debate, since there is no one right or wrong way to interpret or be affected by art.
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Text
I want to geek out about the interview for a sec and make a little spiritual successor to this post I created the other day.
Tim Minear just keeps integrating Lou into the ensemble. It's so great! In the show, and now in the press. This is such a positive development and it's honestly put me entirely at ease for the rest of the season, at least, when it concerns the BuckTommy relationship.
The interview itself was actually fairly basic and hardly touched on BuckTommy at all. But I view that as a positive. I've seen others point this out already, so I'm mostly repeating, but anyone could have done that interview. Oliver could have done the interview on his own, and it honestly would have been easier, logistically speaking, to simply have one familiar actor represent the show.
You want to talk about media literacy? There was absolutely nothing that required Lou to be present. Unless ABC and Tim Minear wanted Lou's presence to be advertised because they know he's here to stay beyond season seven and they want audiences to become familiar/develop a bit of a connection with the man behind the character who will be showing up more.
It's also not lost on me that while Oliver was talking about the cast being like family, Access Hollywood showed a slideshow of BuckTommy images.
I'll go so far as to say that, in my opinion, this interview means ABC and Tim Minear finally settled on a contract for Lou. I think it means that they got the go ahead to have Lou return in season eight, and now they're free to do press and push Tommy/Lou to the public more so he can become a familiar staple.
I don't know, maybe I'll have to apply some clown makeup next week if Buck and Tommy separate, but good ol' media literacy tells me this is grounds to celebrate. I say Lou is a lock for season eight, and I say Tim Minear is thrilled with the BuckTommy relationship so far.
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miley1442111 · 17 hours
Note
hi! can you do something with aaron and like a younger next-door neighbour and they're kinda secretly and newly dating and something with Jack goes wrong and reader helps fix it so aaron is just so in love and asks if he can tell jack and it's just super fluffy and cute!
Anyway, thank you so much, i love your writing!!!!
i love this idea so much!
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telling him- a.hotchner
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a/n: i got nothin.
summary: jack can't go to school, so you swoop in and become aaron's hero, he asks two pretty important questions.
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: none
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Aaron didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d left the BAU. Jack was 11. He had a pre-teen who he’d just moved across the country and changed his entire life. 
What the fuck were they doing in San Francisco?
Aaron was a lecturer now, on law in Stanford. Jack attended a new school, much to his dismay. 
And then there was you. The gorgeous woman who lived next door to them. You were a lecturer as well, nuclear physics but you were often mistaken for a student, considering you were only 25. You’d been very kind to him since he started work there, and even had had them over for dinner a couple of times. 
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“I don’t wanna go!” Jack exclaimed, arms crossed. 
“Jack, I have work in 45 minutes, my students are taking the bar exam, and you know your babysitter is out of town, you have to go to school,” he sighed, feeling helpless. Doing this alone had been the hardest part. He had to leave the family he had, the entire team, and his life behind.
“But they’re mean!” he sobbed into his dad’s chest. “They make fun of me for not having a mom…” 
Aaron’s heart broke. He didn’t want to send his kid into school if he was being bullied, and he made a mental note to speak to his teachers. 
“Hey guys,” your kind voice filled the house from downstairs. Aaron had given you a key just a few weeks ago. “Ready to go?” 
Aaron looked at the time on his watch, it was exactly when you all carpooled to school, then work. 
“Up here!” Jack shouted down to you as he cried into his dad’s shoulder, ruining his suit. Aaron could hear your footsteps up the stairs and he braced himself for any judgy looks. 
Judgy looks which never came.
“Poor Jack,” you sighed, rubbing his head. “What’s going on?”
“The kids at school laugh at me because I don't have a mommy anymore,” he cried, getting up and giving you a hug. You sent Aaron an empathetic look and hugged Jack back. 
“That is awful Jack, how about this. You come to work with me and your dad, my lectures don’t start ‘till later so you can hang out with me and I know someone who works at your school, so if you tell me your teacher’s name I can get the lesson plan for today and we can work through it in my office, does that sound good?” 
Jack nodded his head furiously and hugged you harder, his tears subsiding. 
Aaron’s heart could’ve exploded. You were so kind. You two had only been on a few dates in recent weeks, you hadn’t told Jack yet, but you were so caring. 
He mouthed a ‘thank you’ in your direction and you shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do’. 
Aaron ran into his room, pulling on a new suit jacket to replace the one soiled by Jack’s tears, grabbed his briefcase, and followed you out to the car. You’d called your friend at his school and gotten the information so Jack had his school books in his bag. You drove them to the Stanford campus, explained to your supervisor who told you it was alright, and departed for the day, Jack’s hand in yours. Aaron walked over to his building, and you stayed in yours, sending him updates throughout the day. You made the majority of your lectures for the day either study lectures, or just cancelled lectures so you could keep a close eye on Jack. You even allowed three of your most responsible students to teach Jack some maths. 
At the end of the day, Jack fell asleep on the couch in your office while you were busy cleaning up your lecture hall. 
“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled from the door. 
“Hi love,” you smiled back. “How was your day? Did anyone faint in the exam hall?”
He crossed over to you in three quick strides and pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply. You were so kind, you’d taken care of Jack all day for him, you’d made him feel less alone in the most isolating time of his life, and you were his. Well, maybe, he hadn’t exactly asked yet. “No one fainted, but a few did vomit before coming in.”
“Poor them,” you sighed. “Jack was fine all day, no issues.”
“Have I told you how wonderful you are?” He smiled and you chuckled. 
“A few times, sure,” you teased. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Aaron smiled and moved one of his hands to cup your cheek. “You’re wonderful.”
You smiled back at him, pecking his cheek. “Well, good thing we have a date on Friday.”
“I want to tell Jack,” He admitted. “About us.”
You nodded. “You’re sure? It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure. He loves you anyways, what’s the worst that can happen?” He asked, pressing kisses to your neck as he spoke. 
“Umm- He could hate both of us because he feels like we’re replacing your and Haley’s relationship, he could start to resent you if we break up, he could hate me, the list goes on-”
“Don’t let it,” he smiled. “I have spent my whole life making calculated and deliberate decisions, even if I knew those choices wouldn’t make me happy. I want to be happy now, with you and Jack,” he admitted. In recent months you’d taught him the value of being slightly selfish, despite his altruistic tendencies. 
“Alright, whatever you say love,” you smiled and kissed him again, then went back to your desk to gather your things. 
“I also want to ask you something,” he stated and when you turned around you saw a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You chuckled softly and smiled, the sweetness of the moment warming your heart. “Yes, Aaron, I will be your girlfriend.”
He grinned when you accepted and his hands wrapped around your waist as he pressed your lips against his  in celebration. 
He was happy, truly happy. For the first time in a long time. 
And it was all thanks to you.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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honeipie · 3 days
Text
THE MOMENT
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izuku x fem!reader
synopsis: izuku is asked the exact moment that he fell in love with his wife, and he knows exactly when
authors note: why do i keep writing about podcasts all of a sudden lmaoooo 😭 also i proofread this when i was tired asf so if it’s bad sorryyyy
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“it’s really nice to have you here mr. midoryia! thank you for agreeing to join us on our podcast. we know how busy you are saving the country, so it’s nice to see you in a different light” the man flashed him a smile, which izuku was happy to return.
“yeah of course! i figured i should see why everyone is telling me that this podcast is so great” izuku crossed one of his legs over the other. his pr team thought it’d be a good idea to branch out from the regular news interviews and talk shows, so they had scheduled him a podcast episode on the number one podcast in japan.
“so having the number one hero with us is of course a prime opportunity to pick your brain. all about your hero work, who your role models were throughout the years, and maybe let us look behind the big deku label and just let us get to know midoryia izuku if you allow”
izuku nodded with his picture perfect smile “i’d like that. most people don’t respect that i’m an actual person and not just some figure with no feelings, so i really appreciate that”
the host nodded looking down at his phone “so first we wanted to give you a big congratulations! you are your wife are celebrating your second year of marriage. that must be nice”
“yes we did! thank you from both of us really. i took some time off and we had a really, really nice vacation together. it was nice to be away from all the eyes for a while”
“of course! i know it can probably get hard with all the fans that you have. everybody wanting an autograph, kids lining up to meet you, both women and men alike wanting a chance with you even though you’re clearly married. how do you deal with that in your relationship?”
“a lot of communication, like, a lot” izuku nodded his head slowly just to make his point “we set boundaries to make sure we’re comfortable with everything that happens. like one thing she’s not very comfortable with is fans kissing me on the cheek, and i totally respect that! the first time it happened we did have a bit of falling out but we communicated and got through it”
the host nodded his head listening along “he’s not just good at saving the world folks! he’s also a relationship pro”
this made both of them laugh easing away any underlying tensions that were there before.
“staying on the topic of your relationship we have a question. every week we ask people what questions to ask to our guests when they come onto the show, and the most asked question was this. what was the exact moment that you fell in love with your wife? i mean she must’ve done something to make you look at her the way you do”
“hearty question,” he joked rubbing his hand against his chin “but i’m pretty sure i know when. it was back in UA, third year. it was our last big event before we graduated and i was struggling to get ready”
he could imagine it like it happened yesterday. third year izuku midoryia stood looking at himself in the mirror with an annoyed look on his face. it had been three years and he still hadn’t learned how to tie his damned tie. the lump of a tie sat dead center on his chest staring right back at him, taunting him.
it’s not like he didn’t try to learn. he had kacchan try to teach him. that didn’t end well. he had his mom try too, and he ended up getting his hands tangled. and youtube? forget it.
he silently cursed to himself taking off the tie once more. there were three soft knocked at his door, which at this point, annoyed him further.
“kacchan i said i’d be right out! could you at least wait five minutes before coming back?”
“izuku? it’s me” your voice alone made his shoulders ease. he came over to the door shaking his head.
“i’m sorry y/n. i thought you were kacchan-“ when he finally got a good look at you all of his words caught in his throat. you were wearing a sage green dress that went down to your ankles. he wasn’t complaining though because on the left there was a slit where he got a good view of your legs “but you are definitely not him”
you walked past izuku white heels clicking against the floor “i sure hope not. i don’t think he can pull of this dress like i can” izuku shut the door softly then made a beeline over to you. as soon as you turned around you noticed he was leaning down to kiss you “woah there pretty boy,” you held up a single finger blocking his lips “attitude check first, kisses later. what’s the matter?”
he sighed when you rejected his advances “i don’t have an attitude-“
he stopped when you made your ‘don’t lie to me face’
“fine,” he stood in the mirror and watched as you stood next to him. you looked stunning. the way you wore the dress like it was perfectly crafted for you had him staring long and hard. it made him feel like a doofus beside you with his slightly messy hair and chunky tie.
“i can’t get my tie right”
you snorted turning him towards you “you’re acting like that’s new news” he rolled his eyes at your comment pulling away from your hands “no! baby i’m sorry i didn’t mean it” your hands gently grabbed his wrists pulling him back “i’ll do it for you”
his eyebrows scrunched together as you started slipping off his tie “you know how to tie ties? how? why? when?”
you couldn’t help but laugh at his confused state going to wrap the tie around his neck again straightening it out “my grandma taught me. she said that i need to learn if it i ever find that special man in my life. i didn’t really believe her because who the hell would i be tying a tie for?”
he watched carefully as you flipped the tie around with ease. folding it this way, then slipping it through one of the openings. he also watched your face. concentrated on the task at hand. his heart was racing by the time you slide the perfect knot up to his neck. tilting your head you nodded.
“but i’m glad she did y’know,” you grabbed the middle of his tie pulling him in for a kiss. he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and the other hand went securely on your back. when you pulled away there was a stupid grin on your face “cause there’s no one else i would want to do this for”
it was like he was getting hit by a truck of nostalgia. all the feelings he felt in that moment came rushing back to him. the swoop of his stomach when you pulled him into the kiss. the alarms blaring in his head from the new sensation.
he. was. in. love.
the kind of love people look for in movies, books, shows. he found that in you.
he sighed into the kiss going to move you against the wall. you had your hands on his waist trying to steady yourself. when he pulled away your face was flushed from his sudden actions. which he made sure not to mention in the podcast.
“well maybe i should do your ties more often”
“yeah.. you should”
izuku snapped out of the memory finally placing himself back into reality “that’s how i remember it. i don’t know if my wife remembers differently” he shrugged with a smile on his face.
“wow, that is straight out of a romance book. so does she still tie your ties today?”
izuku nodded “oh yeah, i don’t trust anyone else to do it. even on our wedding day i forced her to tie it. she was all worried about me seeing her before the wedding so i covered my eyes”
you stood there in your white dress trying not to laugh at your 6 foot husband covering his face like a child playing hide and seek “you really want me to do this?”
“please honey”
“only since you asked so nicely, but no peeking!” walking over you went to put his tie on like you did every other time. when you finished you gave his chest a pat “there you go champ”
“y/n.. you didn’t give me a kiss”
“what?”
he let out a childlike sigh “every time you do my tie you pull me in for a kiss. that’s how this works”
now you laughed.
“izu we can’t kiss before we have the wedding. it’s not the way it goes”
“i won’t tell anyone!”
after a couple moments of silence he could feel a tug on his tie as you drew him close. it was a quick kiss, but just enough to get him through.
the host nodded along a bit jealous that his love life wasn't as magical.
"if only we could all be like you and your wife deku”
“i get that a lot. my wife’s pretty great”
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taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾
comment if you’d like to be added
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mzzledmutt · 3 days
Text
—GOOD DOG
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starring.ᐟ dabi; touya todoroki x reader
synopsis.ᐟ you are a good dog, a good dog does whatever they're asked to do. isn't that right?
warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, boot licking, boot worship, unprotected vaginal sex, d/s dynamics, excessive use of mutt + dog, degradation, praise, oral (m + f receiving), spanking, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, collar + leash
word count.ᐟ 3.1k words
m.mutt 𐂯 this is a little nasty, i had an idea.
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THERE’S no reason to look up.
You can feel the cruel, cerulean scowl staring down at your knelt, pathetic form. You don’t dare look up. Keeping your eyes focused on your hands which rested upon your thighs.
The concrete floors beneath you already beginning to bruise your delicate skin. Dabi is standing before you, the only thing in your sight is his heavy leather boots. The room is silent, only making you more unnerved.
“Eyes up.” Slowly, your head raises until you make eye contact. Dabi is clearly unpleased with you. His jaw is tense, eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” His ragged voice is full of ice, something you expected.
Two weeks ago, on a Tuesday, Dabi suddenly brought up a mission. It was too casual, just relaxing on the couch before the announcement. You’re quick to begin crying, hugging around his waist as you plead with him. He doesn’t care for your cries.
Only rubbing your back with a roll of his eyes. “You act like ‘m not comin’ back.” He grumbled. He gave you the week to spend as much time with him and last Monday, it was time. He stood in the entryway, holding you close to his chest. Your fingers gripped his shirt, feeling as if he’d slip away at any moment.
With a final kiss to your forehead, Touya pulls away. “It’s only a week, dollface. I’ll be back.” Before he leaves, he runs down the list of rules he always gave you whenever he had to go.
Rule one, you were to stay in the apartment, it was too dangerous for you to be outdoors. This wasn’t a constant rule, you were allowed out alone and with company while he was home. While away, he couldn’t risk anyone getting ahold of you.
Rule two, you were to give him daily updates, at least four times a day. Although he has many ways to ensure your safety, it gives him a warmth in his chest when you send him a good morning text, describing your dream and how much you miss him.
Rule three, you were not to open the door for anyone. This rule had a few exceptions. Hawks and the league had specific knocks to confirm their identities. They were the only ones you were allowed to let in or speak to.
Rule four, you were to stay away from the ended and social media while he was away. Mainly his way of ensuring you don’t see any of the atrocities he may commit. 
Rule five, you were not allowed to touch yourself. No toys, no fingers, no pornography. Nothing.
He was incredibly disappointed when inspecting his cameras in a run-down motel room. Watching as your hips twitched and ground against a pillow, sugary moans spilling off of your lips.
The same disappointment was all over his face. “I’m sorry—!” His rough hand grabs your cheeks, startling you. “Did I ask you to speak?” You shake your head, eyes welling with tears. “So, why’re ya’ talking, dog?” You stay silent, pout on your lips and tears in your eyes.
His icy blue eyes scan over your face, smirking when he locks with your watery eyes. Your face is forced to the side as he pushes you away. “I do everything for you. Everything to keep you safe and you can’t follow one simple fuckin’ rule.”
Dabi crouched down to pick up the heavy chain attached to your matching collar. He tugs you hard, throwing you off your balance as you’re forced to crawl behind him. You’re led to your bedroom where he sits on a chair and you stay on your knees.
He clears his throat, shuffling in his seat. You look up at him wide-eyed, awaiting your order. “You’re gonna work for my cock, you understand that?” You nod. “Speak up.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good, doggy.”
“Now, get to work.” Dabi pushes his right boot forward. You look up at him, unsure if you were misreading his command. He tilts his head down, wordlessly awaiting your obedience. Slowly, you lean further down to the floor.
The scent of earthiness, metal, and leather fills your nose. He adorned thick, black leather, steel-toed boots. Your personal favorite in his collection. The boots were intimidating on the man, making him appear taller and much rougher.
You're hesitant as you stick your tongue out, slowly swiping across the material. “Good, doggy. Keep goin’.” His praises encourage you, allowing you to become more comfortable as your tongue laps at the leather.
Dabi's expression hasn’t changed since he entered, his eyes only softened as he watched you clean his leather. His left hand creeping to squeeze his hardening cock, throbbing beneath his jeans.
“This is where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees with my boot in your mouth.” You stare at him wide-eyed. “I asked you a question.” The chain is pulled taut, squeezing your collar around your throat.
“Yes! This is where I belong, sir.” You cry out, at the sudden asphyxiation. 
You’re focused on pleasing him, trying to force away the dull throb in your panties. Tongue dragging across ash and blood, spit shining the black leather. “Off it.” You stop with a whine, sitting back on your haunches. 
You pull away, a trail of spit stuck to the leather and your lips. “Oh, look at you. S’fuckin’ pretty.” Dabi caresses your cheek before hooking his thumb into your mouth. You suck in the digit, holding blurred eye contact as your tears continue to flow. A taunting smirk is spread over his scarred lips.
“Stop your cryin’, mutt. I’ve hardly done anything to you.” That was true. Dabi could be much meaner if he truly wanted to be, he was just toying with you for a moment. Relishing in the tears that roll down your chubby cheeks.
“I want you to ride it. Take those pretty panties off and ride my fuckin’ boot.” You follow his orders, slipping the soaked fabric down your thighs and off onto the floor. Dabi’s hand cradles your cheek so he can watch your fave contort in pleasure as your clit makes contact.
Your hips twitch as you whimper, your hands gripping his hips to balance yourself. “M’yeah?” Dabi teases. Your hips swivel along the boot, stimulating your throbbing clit. Sharp quick pants leave your parted lips as you mindlessly hump the leather.
Drool beginning to spill from your lips, dribbling onto the denim-clad thigh of Dabi. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease—“ Your absentminded pleas force Dabi to unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out from his boxers. He slowly strokes himself, scarred hand languidly moving up and down.
“You like this don’t you? You love bein’ a disgusting dog f’me.” You nod quickly, your grip on him tightening. “Yes! Yes, I love being your dog, Dabi!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm before groaning as he nudges his piercing.
Your cunt’s slick, slipping easily if the material as wanton moans freely leave you. You’re getting close, the knot in your stomach becoming something you can’t ignore. Hips stuttering, nails digging into his skin and your chest heaving, Dabi knew you were teetering on the edge.
He just wanted to see what you would do.
Your ministrations don’t stop, only motivated more as you watch him jerk off. You’re so close, if you just add a little more pressure you’ll surely cum. Just a little bit more—
“Off it.” The look on Dabi’s force forces you back to your kneeled position.
You cry out at the lack of stimulation, your poor cunt clenching around nothing. “Look at my good dog. Learnin’ to listen to orders.” Dabi takes his fingers from your mouth, moving to pet your hair.
“While you’re down there, suck my cock, yeah?” He’s so uncaring as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. So, your nimble fingers make quick work crawling up his thighs before grabbing his cock.
He hisses at your grip, head tilting back. You lean over his lap, puckering your lips as you spit onto the throbbing head. A sharp groan gets stuck in his throat as you begin stroking him, hands twisting in opposite directions as they slide up and down.
You give him a wild grin, thighs clenching each time he moans. “I said suck it, mutt.” You follow his orders, taking the head between your lips and swirling your tongue around him.
“There you go, baby. Suck that big dick f’me.” The metallic taste of his piercings and the saltiness of precum fills your mouth, encouraging you to take him deeper. You gag around him, spilling tears down your cheeks.
“Good,” His hand comes down to hold your hair, slowly moving you up and down. “You’re doin’ s’good, doggy.” Dabi pants, cursing you under his breath. Your space wasn’t enough for the man, he strengthened the grip on your hair, forcing you further down.
Your nails dig into his skin as you choke on him. Hands slapping against his thighs as he roughly fucks into your throat. “Just like that—fuck! You love it, don’t you? Gaggin’ on my fuckin’ cock.” His voice begins to sound whiney as he reaches his orgasm.
You’re forced all the way down, nose nuzzling his pelvis as he cums. Spilling rope after rope of his cum down your throat, loud groans leaving him. Dabi lets you go, allowing you to pull off quickly as you cough.
Your face is soaked in tears and spit, making you the image of perfection to him. He watches as you pant and cough, catching your breath. “You look so pretty,” Dabi strokes your hair. “You looked s’fuckin’ pretty suckin’ my cock.” He wrenches your head back, roughly tugging on your hair.
“Open.” Your lips greedily part, tongue lolling out as he spits onto it. “Don’t you fuckin’ swallow.” He snarled, pinching your cheeks together. You pull your tongue back into your mouth, salivas mixing on your tongue. “Lay down.” He pats his thigh, readjusting himself to accommodate you.
You play over his lap, head and legs dangling over. Dabi adjusts you in his lap, pulling your ass up for his comfort. A heated hand rubs over the dentin’s skin of your ass. “Such a pretty thing you are.” He grips your ass.
Dabi is quick, lifting his hand from your skin before striking you hard. A muffled shout leaves you, determined to follow his orders. He repeated the motion on the other cheek, not giving you much time to relax.
Smack after smack after smack, your nails are digging into his leg you attempt to stay quiet. The blood is rushing to your head as you hang, making you dizzy from his hits and your position.
Your ass is bright red and sore, a product of his heavy and heated hand. “How ya’ feelin’?” He leans down, entering your peripheral. “Your ass feelin’ okay?” Your eyes are blurry and unfocused, and your body still tense and shaking. “Can’t talk, doggy?” He teases with a laugh.
Dabi sits you up on his lap, holding onto your hips to steady you. “Swallow for me.” You follow his orders, sticking out your tongue to prove so. “Such a good pet, hmm?” He pets your hair, allowing you to keen into his touch.
“Think ya’ deserve my cock now, dollface?” Dabi asks, wiping the tears from your face. “I deserve whatever you give me.” You reply with a sniffle. “That’s what I wanna hear.” The dark-haired man pulls you in for a kiss, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck.
The kiss is sloppy, full of spit and tongue. Dabi’s hands wander from your face down to your bruised ass, pinching at the sensitive skin. Your pained moans against his lips make his cock throb, leaking pre cum against his stomach.
In a smooth motion, Dabi lifts you into his arms and stands to his feet, carrying you over to the bed. You’re dropped unceremoniously, only for his lips to travel down your chin to your neck then your collarbones.
He unclips the chain from your collar, dropping it to the floor before attending to your breast. His tender kisses to your soft breast are interrupted as he bites, leaving a perfect imprint of his soft teeth. Dabi grins at you as his tongue lolls out to soothe the skin. His skillful tongue swirls around your nipples before he sucks the bud between his lips.
Your back arches in pleasure, hips bucking in desperation. He sinfully moans around your nipple, teeth grazing the hardened nub causing you to shiver. “P-please, Dabi.” Your pleading is nearly silent, voice just above a whisper.
The stark contrast of his warm mouth to the cool room is jarring. Dabi pulls away, straddling your waist as he looks down upon you. “What was that, I didn’t hear you?” The man taunts. “Dabi, please…” You pout, grabbing at his arm. He smacks your hands away, dismounting your body.
Before you can question what he was doing, you’re flipped onto your stomach, effectively disorienting you. His hands are all over you, positioning the way he wants you to be. Ass up, face down with a beautiful arch in your back. Dabi smacks your ass, admiring his work.
Your pretty soaked cunt was on full display, dripping sweet nectar down your plush thighs. “Now,” Dabi straddles your legs, positing himself behind you. “Speak up, tell me what you want.” 
Your whines are muffled by the blanket. “I can’t hear you.” He chides as he lifts your head from the mattress. “Please, I need it so badly. I was only touching myself because I missed you, I’m sorry for disobeying you!” 
“That’s a good pet.” The tip of his heavy pierced cock nudges against your dripping cunt. “So fuckin’ soaked already,” He groans pressing the head in. “Shit, baby. Take it f’me, you can do that yeah?” Tears prick your eyes again as he pushes further in, your tight heat stretching to accommodate his size.
He continues to sink his thick cock into your warm, wet walls. Stretching you out to fit him snugly. You yelp as the head of his cock smacks into your cervix, the dull pain spreading through your pelvis and stomach.
You grip the sheets, attempting to pull yourself away. “Don’t fuckin’ run from me.” Dabi rasps, gripping your waist and pulling you back. “Fuuuuck!” Your eyes roll back as you squirm in his grip. “You wanted this, take it.”
Dabi’s pace is quick, not giving you a chance to adjust. He’s pounding into you, nails digging 
“Been gone for a week and you're that like a fuckin’ virgin? She missed me that bad?” He pants, leaning over your back. “Y-yes yes, I missed you so fucking much!” A hard smack is landed across your already aching ass.
“I’m not talkin’ to you, mutt.” Dabi spat, smacking the other cheek, relishing in how you clenched around him. “I’m talkin’ to this sinful fuckin’ pussy. Creamin’ ‘round my cock.” Your slick sounds of his cock pistoning into your cunt was sickening.
The rigged feeling of his piercings pleasantly rubs against your g-spot. “Greedy little cunt couldn’t wait to get some dick, now you have it and you wanna run?” Your hands reach back to push against his stomach, begging him to be gentle to your aching pussy.
Dabi grabs your wrist, pinning them back and pulling you back to him. He rests his chin against your shoulder as he thrusts into your core in this new position. “Oh my god,” Your drawl, head rolling to the side. “You’re so fuckin’ deep.”
He breathily chuckles against your ear, your moans music to his ears. “What do ya’ say?” His hand coming up to cup your breast. “Thank you, Dabi.” You sputter between strained moans.
“Nuh uh, what’s my name?” Dabi huffs against your ear, nipping at the cartilage. “Th-thank you, sir!” You sob, bowing against him. “That’s a good, pet.”
His thrusts increase, heavy balls smacking against your ass. The splitting feeling of him inside makes your cunt throb, and your poor aching clit twitches with neglect. You were getting close again, orgasm soon approaching with his harsh thrusts.
“Shit—please! I can’t, sluh—fuck! Slow down!” You cry and he lets you go, forcing your face into the mattress. “Ya’ gonna cum? Huh? Awww poor baby, who said you couldn’t do that?” He leans over you mercilessly thrusts abusing your dripping hole.
“Nonono—please! Been s’good, I wanna cum!” The words are muffled but, the message is clear. He only taunts you further, reaching down to play with your clit. “Mmm’not yet.” 
“Wanna—shit—feel you clench on me some more. This tight cunt is fuckin’ addicting.” Dabi’s orgasm was approaching, his balls tightening as he continued his pace. “I’ll let ya’ know when you can, just enjoy it for now.”
Your walls flutter around him as his thumb circles your clit, pressing on the nub to feel your twitch against him.
“Shit—‘m gonna cum, pretty. Gonna breed this pretty cunt, you like that?” You nod, pleasure rendering you unable to speak. Dabi doesn’t punish you, too focused on pumping you full of his cum.
“You want me to breed this pretty cunny, don’t you? Make you mama, hah?” His teeth graze your shoulder before his tongue laps at the skin. 
“C’mon, cum for me, pretty. Be a good dog f’me and cum.” He growls as he bottoms out in you. A ragged groan leaves the man as he cums, spilling rivulets of cum into your awaiting womb. You cum with him, overstimulation setting in quickly from being denied for so long.
Your body spasms as he lays over you, bodies now against the mattress. He’s buried deep within you, still twitching and pumping you full of his seed. You’re delirious, eyes hazy and stuffed too full to comprehend your surroundings.
You’re left panting and sweaty, too tired to get up and move. Eventually, Dabi pulls out, whistling at the stream of white that drips out of you. He spreads your ass, dipping down to lap at your cunt. “Baby, no…” You whine with overstimulation.
His tongue delves into your holes, dripping up the mixtures of both of your arousals. Dabi licks a stripe up from your cunt to your asshole, pulling away with a smile. “God, you taste so good, baby.” You’re still limp against the bed, tired from his pounding.
“We should,” Dabi takes a deep breath. “We should clean up.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You did so good. You only ever act right when I’m mean to you, huh?” You mumble something unintelligible making him laugh. He rolls off of you, pulling you to play on his scarred chest.
Your eyes are shut, breathing slowly to regulate yourself. He gently strokes your hair, smiling down at you.
“Such a good dog for me.”
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enhaheeseung · 21 hours
Text
Toxic - L. Heeseung
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!
Warning: crying, angst.
Genre: ex's, toxic relationship, mdni!
WC: 1,455k sorry for any errors!
You can’t believe it’s been three months since that dreadful night you and heeseung last saw each other.
You hate that you still even think about him.
The fact is that even after everything he did, you still find your thoughts wandering back to him.
You wished you were strong enough just to say no to him that night.
Then maybe your feelings for him would have been gone by now, but the fact that you let him back into your bed so willingly just made all those feelings come flooding back in, and now, instead of leaving your ex in the past, he was still very much in the present, and it was killing you.
The only hope you had was that he’d leave you alone for good this time. It’s been months, and you haven’t heard so much as a peep from him, so maybe he was finally letting you go.
Letting you move on with your life without him being in it.
As you sat in bed thinking of your ex your doorbell suddenly rang you hopped off your bed not thinking much of the knock it was probably the order you placed last week.
Except when you got to the door and opened it it was no package in fact it was something or someone rather that you were hoping to forget and you can’t believe just when you thought you might not ever see him again he was standing outside your door with flowers in his hand.
Before any words could be exchanged, you slammed the door in his face and quickly locked it before scurrying back to your room and locking that door for no apparent reason other than to be as blocked off from him as possible.
Heeseung lowered his head in guilt, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.
He turned around and faced the street in your neighborhood before crouching down on your porch, waiting for you.
He knew you’d have to leave home at some point, so he was gonna wait until you did cause he just had to see you and talk to you one last time.
He’d wait all day if he had to.
-
And he did even when the sunset he waited, even when his flowers drooped, he waited even when it started to rain, he waited and waited and waited until his body started to shiver and get cold, and even then, he still waited.
He lost track of the hour. That’s just how long he waited.
But that didn’t matter; all that mattered was you coming out, but unfortunately for him, that seemed far-fetched given it was at least midnight by now. It had to be cars were no longer passing by. All the neighbors had their lights off, and he thought of just going home, but he stayed out here for this long, and he could stay till morning.
He was determined.
So determined that he unwillingly passed out right against your front door, he fought so hard to keep his eyes from closing, but ultimately, he lost the fight and succumbed to slumber.
You know you should be in bed by now, but you can’t get any sleep cause every time you close your eyes, you can still see your ex.
So now you’re in the living room watching TV at three in the morning, although even that was drowned out by thoughts of your ex, the only thing that took your attention off of him was a sudden thud against your door.
Jumping in place on the couch, you gripped onto a pillow that was sitting next to you, hugging it to your chest.
You waited a few seconds, and you didn’t hear it again, so you sat up and went over to the door, looking through the peephole.
There was nothing.
Maybe you were hearing things, but to be safe, you decided to check it out a little more thoroughly before calling it quits.
You unlatched the door twisting the knob and carefully opening it.
A shocked gasp escaped your lips when you saw a man sitting outside your door.
And it wasn’t just any man; it was the man who had taken up all your thoughts today. “Heeseung?” You said, completely shocked to see him after months.
“Ow,” he fell backward, his body lying halfway in and outside your door. His eyes were foggy, and he struggled to stand on his own two feet.
His body felt weak. He was soaked in rainwater. His flowers had completely fallen, but he still had his cold fingers tightly wrapped around them. As he turned to face you, his eyes were already tearing up at the sight of you. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice strained as he extended the flowers to you. They were your favorite, but you couldn’t even focus on them when he lost his balance and stumbled forward.
You quickly caught him trying your best to hold up his lanky body.
Kicking the door shut, you carried him to your couch and gently set him down. “W-“ 
“I’m so so-“ he didn’t get to finish before he started coughing wildly, his throat dry and sore, but he went on cause he needed to tell you this: he needed to get this off his chest. “I’m sorry for everything, the way I treated you, the things I did, what I put you t-through. It was all me. It was never you,” he stuttered, and even though he was soaking wet, you could tell the droplets falling down his cheeks were indeed tears, and your heart hurt for him. “And I promise I won’t bother you anymore. I just had to make sure you knew how sorry I am. I had to make it right.” he engulfed you in one last hug, rubbing your back softly. “I bought these for you.” he chuckles softly and hands you the flowers.
You’re at a loss for words. You didn’t even care that he was hugging you soaking wet.
You can’t believe he actually went through all of this to say he’s sorry he was covered in rain and tears, apologizing to you, something you never thought he’d do.
Was he really at your door this whole entire time? “Did you- were you here since earlier?” You asked confused.
“Yeah.” He smiles bashfully, knowing he’s ridiculous for that, but oh well, he’s here now, and that’s all that mattered. He did what he set out to do. “I just had to tell you.” he looks down at his lap, and your heart aches for him even more. You don’t know if it should or shouldn’t. Maybe it should. You don’t know anymore.
You’re so confused.
Your heart wants him to stay, but your past experience with him tells you not to have a reaction. Let him say his piece and move on.
You nodded, and he looked up at you. His eyes were soft, and his brows creased with emotions, none of which didn’t feel like a thousand little needles stabbing him in his heart.
He waited for a moment just to see if you’d say something more.
Anything at all.
But your silence was enough of an answer to let him know he was not welcome in your home anymore.
You and him were officially done.
Even though his feet felt heavy, he stood up surprisingly in his own power. 
You watched as he made his exit, not bothering to stop him at the door. This was for the best. Now, you could move on without him taking up your life without seeing him at gatherings. Now you could be at peace, not having to worry about your ex cropping up at random times and making you fall for him all over again.
“I wish nothing but the best for you. Goodbye, y/n” he twisted the knob and took one deep breath relishing how it felt to be back in your home again.
He stood there for a moment, his heart feeling heavy, knowing that he’d never ever be coming back here to take you out for dates like he used to, to spend the day like he used to, or visit you like he used to.
He sucked it up though this was his doing, and he was finally ready for the consequences.
But he’d never be ready to let you go.
He opened the door and never looked back, walking through your neighborhood for the last time.
It was like the sky was sad for him as cold rain poured down on him, mixing with his salty tears.
But no matter how painful it is, he’s happy that you’re free from him cause he was toxic, and that was no good for you.
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Text
𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬 & 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐬
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⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬
pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)
genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.
content & warnings: brief depictions of violence/a person getting jumped, and the aftermath of that. smut that includes: unprotected sex, breast play, dirty talk, riding, slight breeding kink, creampie, lots of making out, y/n and felix are basally two switches in this ngl. please take care in reading.
word count: 6.2k
summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.
a/n: you guys, I swear to GOD that I did not fucking forget about this fic!!! 💀 trust me, I see all of the msgs and comments in my inbox across my platforms. I've just been too busy and tired from my daily life to keep up with writing much these days. on top of that, I don't feel particularly inclined to write straight-coupled smut rn. plus, my long-distance girlfriend just left from her weekend visit, so besides uni and work, she's been keeping me quite busy. 🤭 anyways, I hope ya'll enjoyed the end of this small series of mine, and thanks for all of the love you guys have shown it over the past year~!! 💗
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
The worst thing about the next two weeks after your moment with Felix in his bedroom was that the entire time, Chris didn’t even reach out once. 
 There were no calls, no texts, no emails, no letters. 
 Just… nothing. 
 And that hurt the most out of everything else. 
 Pretty soon after your night spent over at Felix’s house, you came to terms with the end of the relationship. With the cheating and all the other shit. 
 But the one thing you couldn’t shake was the fact that there was complete radio silence on his end. 
 He didn’t even try to fight for you. 
 Didn’t even do his very best to get you back. 
 Instead, he just kept living his life, while he continued to fuck your best friend. 
 Yeji, on the other hand, had texted and called you at least a dozen times. None of which, you replied to. 
 She was acting like you two were in a romantic relationship. Like she was Chris in the situation. 
 It took her showing up to Angel Waves on a busy Friday night to finally be your breaking point. You were fed up with her bullshit. What ensued was a huge blowup between the two of you at the front of the restaurant. 
 But mostly, it was just you screaming. You who was the one who yelled at the top of your lungs, the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 
 For the most part, Yeji stayed silent. Just standing there and taking the brunt of all your hatred and disgust. And finally, when you told her you guys were done… that the friendship was officially over, that’s when she started to protest. 
 Soon, she was yanking on your hands, begging you to ‘not do this,’ and to ‘think it over some because-‘ But you had heard enough. From the moment you saw that long-ass text thread between her and your boyfriend, it had been over. 
 And just like that, the friendship was broken, and you were having your father escort her out of AW. Before you knew it, he was telling her never to come back again, and never to grace the doorstep of your house, otherwise he’d press charges. Since you had told your parents about the breakup and everything else that had happened along the way, they were fully on board with protecting you from the people who had hurt you so much. 
 Thankfully, Yeji didn’t go any further. As quickly as she had shown up at the front door of Angel Waves, she was gone. Forever. Good riddance to her, you said to yourself as you watched her walk down the side of the restaurant and towards the parking lot. 
 Perhaps the worst part about those two weeks after the breakup was the fact that you hardly got to see Felix. Between you grieving the relationship alone late at night in your room, studying homework, and waitressing at AW, you hardly had any free time to yourself to reach out to him. 
 But because Felix was… well, Felix, he made it a point to text you every single morning and night. Checking up on you and letting you know he was always there, rooting for you. That his door was always open in case you wanted to talk. 
 And for the most part, you found that you were doing okay. You wanted to be left alone in your thoughts. At least, for a little while. Yet, late at night, when your eyes were puffy from crying and your throat was scratchy, you’d look out of your bedroom window and watch the dark tidal waves ripple in the distance. 
 The changes in the blue colors of the ocean felt like your feelings throughout that time. One moment they were crystal clear, the next they were the deepest shade of cerulean. Through it all, you were lucky to have Felix by your side. Silently supporting you from afar. 
 That’s why, when Han Jisung showed up one random Thursday night to Angel Waves during a lull, you were confused out of your mind. He had already been served and was chowing down on a huge burger and fries. When you walked up to him, already smoothing down your apron and dress, he didn’t even pay you any attention. 
 “Uhm- Ji, what the fuck are you doing here?” You asked incredulously. Because although you guys were friends, he hadn’t frequented the restaurant much, quoting that it was ‘much too bougie for his taste.’ 
 At the sound of your voice, he looked up from his plate and flashed you a wide grin just as he stuffed a couple of fries into his mouth. “Goddamn- this shit is good… did you know that, Y/N?” He laughed as he took another bite out of the burger. 
 Rolling your eyes at him, you looked around the restaurant to make sure you weren’t needed elsewhere before you sat down in the booth’s seat across from him. “Yeah, because my parents own the fucking place.” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow his way as he grinned at you from behind his burger. “But I don’t think you came here tonight to devour a burger. So… what’s up?” 
 He took a swig of his chilled bottle of coke before finally answering your prodding. “Did you know that Chris is in the hospital right now?” 
 And just like that, your entire world stopped. 
 Everything came to a standstill. 
 The noise, hustle and bustle. The energy flowing throughout Angel Waves honed down to a single point as you focused on Jisung’s words. 
 Because… what, the actual, fuck?
 Leaning forward in your seat slowly, you could feel your heart beat wildly against your ribcage as your eyes grew in shock. “I’m sorry- what?”
 Jisung shrugged nonchalantly like this news was completely mind-blowing. “Yeah, Jeongin texted me last night, guess he visited him in the ER yesterday. Rumor has it he got jumped or something…” Then he was leaning forward too, eyes floating around the room before locking onto yours and dropping his voice down into a whisper. “But c’mon, a jump in Bridgeport? No fucking way. My bet is, he got mixed up in the wrong crowd involving drugs or some shit.” 
 “Chris. Got. Jumped.” You said slowly, shaking your head in disbelief as your mind started spinning with millions of thoughts. But the one that came to the forefront, you blurted out immediately. “How bad is it? It must be pretty horrible if it landed him in the ER.” 
 Jisung was busy stuffing his face with more burger and talked between chewing. “Beats me- Jeongin mentioned something about a few broken bones and some really bad cuts, but I’m sure that fucker will survive no problem.” Since everything that had happened between you and Chris within the past few weeks, Jisung had also cut all ties with him and officially hated his guts. “Serves him right, honestly, from the kind of freakish shit he pulled with you and Yeji…” 
 After that, Jisung kept talking. But you couldn’t hear him, couldn’t pay attention to him any longer. 
 Because all you could think about was what Felix had told you a few days prior. How he had to go out of town for the weekend to complete some “interviews” for a dance instructor position he was interested in. He had mentioned something about it being a few hours away, but so suddenly, everything was clicking. 
 How he told you not to worry if he didn’t reply to your calls and texts. 
 How he said he’d be back late at night that Wednesday. 
 You were shooting up from your seat after that, checking the current time on your phone. It read just a little past eleven at night. Hopefully, Felix was still up. Hopefully, he was home. 
 When Jisung noticed you moving away from the table, he grabbed ahold of your hand to stop you in your tracks. “Where are you going?” 
 “I think I know who did it.” You began, giving him the look. Jisung’s eyes searched your entire face, and for a moment, you automatically knew when it clicked in his mind. When it registered, with stark clarity. 
 “He did what he had to do.” 
 “It’s fucking illegal, Ji.”
 Shrugging nonchalantly for the second time that night, Jisung took a dainty sip of his coke. “I mean, if it was me- Chris wouldn’t even be alive at this point.” 
 You pushed on his shoulder, scoffing lowly. “Well then, good thing you’re not in the same position.” And with that, you were fleeing from the restaurant entirely, ripping off your apron and throwing it on a nearby barstool as you made your way out the back entrance. 
 Felix’s house rose against the horizon in the distance. You broke out into a run, turning breathless fairly quickly from the adrenaline and worry running through your veins. As you got closer to the white-wooden paneled house, you noticed how most of the lights were switched off. 
 Save for the one in his bedroom. 
 Taking in a deep breath of relief, you made to climb up the porch and hoist open his bedroom window. Just like he had taught you all those years ago when you’d sneak into his bedroom after curfew during high school. 
 The fucking pane wasn’t even unlocked - figured, since he trusted the police officers a little too much in Bridgeport - and soon, you were climbing through the window and sitting down at the edge of his bed. 
 The nearby bathroom light was on, the warmth radiating from the crack of the door near the floorboards, and you could hear water running just behind the door. 
 Holding your breath, your hands twisted together with your nervousness. The air suddenly felt so fucking stifling and warm, yet you could feel the gooseflesh running down the lengths of your bare arms as you sat there. 
 Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such a thin white tank top when it was on the chillier side of a summer night. Looking down, you realize just how short your ripped shorts were. They rode up your thighs as you sat there across his bed, and you hastily pulled them down to save some form of modesty. 
 Before you could fix up any other part of yourself, the bathroom door was swinging open and the trapped light was flooding across the entire dimly-lit bedroom. The warmth cascaded across your skin, and when you looked up from the ground, Felix was illuminated by it. 
 He was… shirtless. 
 With… messy, dripping wet hair and a pair of loose black sweatpants haphazardly thrown on.
 “Y/N- uh, what are you doing here?” He asked hesitantly, running his hands through the back of his hair in the way he always did when he was taken aback. “I just got back from a swim, I didn’t-“
 “Is it true?” 
 “Is… what true?” He raised a dark, perfectly manicured eyebrow your way as he neared his desk. Reaching out, he squirted out a tiny bit of lotion onto his delicate fingers and gently patted the product onto his skin. 
 “The fact that Chris is in the fucking hospital right now.” 
 “Oh. That,” he didn’t even seem surprised to hear your words, meaning that he had already heard about it. He rubbed a small amount of emulsion onto his cheeks before flashing you with a tiny grin, staring at you through the mirror. “Minho told me this morning. Heard it’s pretty bad.” 
 “Show me your hands, Felix.” You said, voice low and icy against your tongue. For a moment, Felix stopped his movements at the desk. He just stared at you from the mirror that was hung on the wall in front of it. And when he made no sign of moving, of heeding your words, you pressed again. “Felix. Show me your fucking hands.”  
 Felix raised an eyebrow your way, as he closed the bottle of lotion and placed it back on its glass holder atop his desk. “I’m at no liberty to do what you say. You can’t tell me what to do, angel… As much as you probably want to.” 
 The way the pet name sounded coming from his mouth did something funny to your insides just then. The way it twisted around his tongue and came out softly yet a little bit harsh, too, twisted up everything inside of you and made you want to scream out loud. 
 But you didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him, or for him. 
 And before your heart could catch up to what your brain was doing, you were standing up from the bed and your legs were stretching across the floor. The length between the desk and bed frame wasn’t long. And before you knew it, you were just beside Felix, taking ahold of his hands and bringing them into your line of vision. 
 They were… 
 Bruised. 
 Badly cut. 
 And various shades of violent reds and purples. 
 Half of his hands were bandaged up, the other halves were completely open. 
 “Felix… what-”
 Yanking his hands out of your hold, he ran them through his unruly blonde locks, sighing heavily. “He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill his sorry ass. I almost did, that night on the highway- when I saw him hit you like that.” 
 Reaching out, you grabbed onto one of his hands again and squeezed it slowly. “You could go to jail for this, Lix. Chris- he’ll… he’ll press charges. You know he will.” Your voice sounded strained and desperate. And you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your vision at the sheer thought of it all. 
 Of Felix going and seeking out your ex just so he could beat him to a pulp so much, he landed the fucker in the hospital. 
 Because no, not your Lee Felix. 
 Not the boy who was known throughout elementary middle and high school as the sweetest human in the entire world. 
 Not the boy who couldn’t hurt a fly. 
 Not your sweet, pretty… Felix. 
 Shaking his head slowly, Felix’s eyes met yours through the reflection in the mirror. “He won’t press charges, trust me. I made sure to fuck him up enough that he wouldn’t. Chris is too much of a coward to ever show his face around these parts again.” He flashed you an easy grin, squeezing your hand faintly in reassurance. 
 And you actually believed him. 
 Because if it had been bad enough to land Chris in the hospital, and leave such nasty wounds and scars across Felix’s entire hands, you were pretty sure your ex would never face either of you again. 
 “But… why? I don’t understand why you’d do something like that?” You began, getting choked up again. Chest heaving slightly, you leaned into his side, breath hitching in the pit of your throat at just the thought of Felix being taken away from your side because of a stupid fight and breakup. “Why would you do it when you know the risks? I can’t fucking lose you, Felix, I- not again. Please.” 
 At that, Felix was turning completely. So that he was facing you. And then he was pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you buried your face in his bare chest. His warm skin against your lips lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, but at that moment, you couldn’t see or think about anything past your tears. That were steadily flowing down your face. 
 “I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I’ve done that once, I promised you I wouldn’t do it again.” He said in a soft voice, as he carded a few fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture. 
 “Why? Why did you do it?” You cried out softly, nestling your face into his naked skin. Your body was seeking out any kind the warmth, from the way that the fright was wrapping around all of your senses in that moment. 
 For a few beats, everything was silent. The only sound in the entire bedroom was your quiet sniffles. And Felix’s breathing. Then, he spoke in that deep voice of his. “Because I care, angel. A little too much, it would seem. I care way too much to sit idly by and let a man like that walk this earth without having any consequences.” 
 “Us breaking up was a punishment enough.” 
 You could sense Felix shaking his head above you, as he held you close to his half-clothed form. “No. He never deserved you, from the very beginning. That’s why I got so angry- on graduation night. Because you couldn’t see what I saw in him… which was absolutely nothing.” As he spoke, you could feel him tensing against you. And only then, did you realize that the tears had stopped. And instead of listening to your sobs, you were listening to what he was telling you. “I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you with him when I knew he was a horrible fucking person. I couldn’t stand the thought of hearing you talk about him on our calls once I went to Korea. I couldn’t stand the thought of any of it. That’s why I cut everything off.” 
 Moving away from his chest just slightly, you stared up at him and met his gaze. “You could’ve told me all of this, you know. And I would’ve understood.” 
 Raising a noncommittal eyebrow down at you, he scoffed lowly. “Really, Y/N? Because your actions from the past say something very differently.” 
 And without even thinking about it, you were raising your hands, brushing a few strands of his loose blonde hair behind his ears. “Yes, really. Because I love you and I value your opinion so fucking much.” 
 “No, don’t say that.” 
 Felix’s words came out deathly quiet, making your heart stop beating in the pit of your chest for a few seconds. Frowning in confusion, you pressed your lips together in a displeased line. “What do you-”
 “Don’t say you love me, because we both know that if you did- you never would’ve been with him in the first place,” Felix said slowly, in a breathless kind of way. But despite his words, he was already moving slowly. Hands reaching up, his slender fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Eyes watching the way you breathed out in a shuttering kind of way at the movement. 
 “So tell me that you don’t. Tell me that you don’t love me.” He continued, even as his hand was slipping behind your neck and his other hand was finding its way onto your hip. He yanked you a little closer to his form. 
 Swallowing down a mixture of a moan and scream, you met his gaze. And there, you found a myriad of emotions. His eyes were hooded and searching, as they wandered across your face, picking up on every one of your emotions. There, you found love and… desire, too. 
 “I love you, Lee Felix.” 
 “That’s not what I told you to say. That’s the opposite, actually.” He said in a gravelly voice, the sound of it rumbling out of his chest and cascading down your entire body. 
 Shrugging just a tiny bit, you offered him a sly kind of smirk. “Guess it’s opposite day then- because I-”
 Instead of words, his mouth was the thing that cut you off next. 
 The kiss was so abrupt and sudden, that your brain had hardly any time to process it. Then, all of a sudden, you were melting into the feeling of it all. Of his lips pressed against yours, fervently seeking you out. You nearly fell into his arms, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was holding onto your waist with one hand, and the other was wrapped in your locks at the nape of your neck. 
 “F-Felix-” You moaned out softly in the split second that he pulled away to allow you time to breathe. Then his mouth was back on yours with a searing vengeance, as his tongue prodded at the line of your lips. 
 And just like that, you let him in. His warm tongue slipped between your teeth and soon you were exploring each other’s tastes in a heated, frenzied kind of way. Almost like, without the two of you even realizing it, your mouths had been craving each other from day one. 
 Felix pulled on your hair a little bit harder after that, tilting your head back just enough as his lips parted from yours. And when you were about to protest from the lack of his mouth, he trailed his head downward, making a path of gentle kisses down the side of your cheek, across the line of your jaw, and towards the column of your neck. 
 When he stopped just above your breastbone, where the top of your ruffled tank top started, he stared up at you with wide, imploring eyes. “Too much?” He asked in the gentlest of voices you had ever heard come from a man. 
 But already, you found yourself shaking your head vehemently. “No- never.” So you let him take control. You let him move you two backward until he was sitting down on the edge of the bed and you were cradling his hips with either of your legs, sitting atop his lap. 
 “I’ve wanted you like this for so fucking long, I don’t even know what to do with all of the thoughts I have right now…” He whispered, hands coming up to your shoulders and massaging the skin there. 
 You dipped into his presence, pressing a few feverish kisses against his lips. “It’s okay- I can tell you what to do,” you mumbled in between kisses, tasting him and catching his scent of body wash and salt water. “Take off my top, Lixie.” 
 And surprisingly, he did what he was told. Soon, he was helping you shed your white tank until you were down to your light purple bralette. Sitting there, on his lap, you watched all the emotions dance across his brilliant face. “You’re so fucking beautiful- I have no words anymore-” He mumbled, eyes roving across your half-exposed chest and catching on the way that your hands stretched behind your back. 
 Soon, you were unclasping your bralette and throwing it off to the side. You stared back at Felix, your gazes locking. Almost like, he couldn’t bear to move his focus anymore downwards. Like if he did, the moment between you would break and he’d wake up and realize all of it was but a mere dream on the horizon. 
 “Kiss me, Felix,” you whispered, but the deep, cloying tenderness of your voice suggested to both of you that you weren’t talking about your lips. And just like that, he was leaning forward, beginning to pepper featherlight kisses down the column of your neck and onwards. 
 Carding your hands through his damp, shaggy blonde hair, you pushed his face a little closer to your skin, guiding his mouth until his lips were hovering over your chest. Then he was looking up at you again, eyes gaping wide open almost like he was asking for permission yet again. If he didn’t get the all-clear from you for the millionth time that night, the entire thing would be ruined. 
 “Open up, baby,” is all you said in a soft voice. The whispery sound of it floated out into the darkness of the room, wrapping around the two of you just as Felix did what he was told. Like a good boy. 
 Unhinging his jaw just the tiniest of bits, he easily fit his lips around one of your pebbled nipples. And like magic, like some devilish sex faerie took ahold of his mind, he was sucking on your skin within the next breath. Sucking so good, soon you were throwing your head back in pure ecstasy. Fingers wrapping around his blonde locks a little more, you pushed his face closer to your form. 
 His teeth grazed your goose-flesh skin, licking every part of you that he could get his mouth on. And when he came up for air, the sound of saliva popping off of your cool tit, Felix was smiling a devious kind of smirk. “Your skin tastes so fucking good…” Then he was eyeing your other nipple, that had been left untouched as of yet. 
 Peering down at him with a slightly raised brow, you moved across his hips. The single shift in position made him groan out loud in pure agony, a tinge of crimson bursting across his cheeks as you ground down against the hardness between his legs. “Then why the hell did you stop, Lexie?” 
 And just like before, he was heeding your words. His mouth came around your other pert bud, sucking and licking and kissing. Meanwhile, his hands were busy roaming across your entire body… tweaking your other nipple, grasping onto your hip before skirting up the length of your spine. The entire time, you slowly moved your waist against his, feeling the tent growing just beneath the thin fabric of his black sweatpants. 
 Each time you danced a little bit closer to where you needed him most, he let out a string of filthy groans against your skin. Your movements prompted him to suck even harder, to drawl out as many heavy sighs as he could from deep inside your chest. His bare chest heaved with breath, as he rarely came up for hair. Muscled pecks and abdomen flexed, constricting every time you edged him a little bit closer to the edge. 
 When it finally became too much for him, he was pushing away from your wet, pebbled tits. “N-Need to be inside you, right fucking now.” He was practically whining, in that deep voice of him. It was really adorable if you were to be truly honest with yourself. “Please… need to… I need to…” 
 But the words didn’t make it out of his mouth in time. Instead, you were pressing up into his space, imprinting kiss after heated kiss to his swollen lips. And when you were done, you pulled away just slightly to tuck a lock of messy blonde hair behind his ear. “What do you need right now… baby? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.” 
 “Need to fuck you,” he started, breathing heaving so deeply that his shoulders shuttered with it. Sparkly eyes peering up at you with a wide, deer-in-the-headlights kind of resemblance. “Need to breed you- fuck you raw, for Christ’s sake…” 
 He said the last of his words with a kind of venom you had never heard from him. Almost like… 
 “Felix… are you, jealous?” 
 Surprise dawned across his entire face then, as the crimson of his cheeks only deepened the freckles smattered across his skin. “W-What? No! Why would you even-”
 “Lee. Felix. Are you mad that Chris got to fuck me raw?” 
 “Well now, how could I be when I don’t know if-”
 A tiny smirk started to pull your lips upwards, as you said “Oh no, we definitely did. Most of the time, actually.” 
 Utter shock burst across his face at your confession. And for a few moments, you felt somewhat embarrassed. To admit such an intimate detail about your sex life with your longtime boyfriend. Especially to the best friend you had known since you were a little girl. 
 Flabbergasted for a few seconds, Felix raised a finger in the air in a snooty kind of way. “First of all, that is incredibly risky. Second-”
 “And like you wanting to do it now isn’t incredibly risky and dangerous too?” 
 Your snarky comeback threw his argument right back into his court. And he glared your way, rolling his glittering eyes dramatically. “Okay, but this is fucking different. I’m not gonna-”
 “Cheat on me with my best friend and then slap me across the face when I try to break up with you?” 
 “God- will you let me finish, woman?!” 
 You liked riling him up. It was fun and you had always taken great pleasure in it, ever since you were a young child. So you sat back a little bit, pushing away from his hips somewhat and folding your arms across your bare chest. “I mean yes- eventually, I am gonna let you finish tonight. But okay, make your argument.” 
 Running a frustrated hand through his silky, damp hair, Felix’s eyes searched the room for the words he wanted to say. “I don’t wanna fuck you because I think you’re easy and then I’m gonna be done with you after tonight. I wanna be with you because I fucking love you. I have, since day one. Since we were little kids, I had a raging crush that grew into an uncontrollable fire and then into a monster.” By then, he was staring right back at you again. Gazes locked, it was like he was searching into the depths of your very soul. You could see so many emotions written across his face then… love, anger, passion… “The only reason I wanna- wanna come inside is because I wanna make sure you know you’re mine and that I’m yours.” 
 For a few beats, everything was completely silent. Save for the heavy breathing on both of your ends. 
 Then, a sly kind of grin was flashing across your face as your hands hastily made their way down to your hips, ripping off your shorts at record speed. Way faster than your fingers had ever done in the entire time that you had been intimate with Chris. 
 And before you could even say anything, before any words were even spoken between the two of you after Felix’s passionate tyraid of love, you felt movement underneath you. 
 Between your legs, you could feel hands moving. Across your thighs, they danced- spreading, opening, caressing. Until they were pressed up to your very centre, drawling a loud moan from you as they played around your clit. In mere seconds, Felix was slipping two digits into you, opening you up gradually. 
 “Fuck, your pussy is stretching so nicely for me…” He grunted, leaning into you and pressing feverish kisses to your lips. He bit down on your bottom lip just slightly, and each time he hit his fingers up into that gooey spot inside of you, you swore you saw stars. “Gonna be fun to fuck this tight, pretty thing.” 
 You twirled your hips across his fingers, shivering in pure bliss each time his thumb caressed your enflamed bundle of nerves. “L-Lix… I… need…” But all semblance of forming words fled from your body entirely, as the heat of arousal overtook your entire form. 
 “You need me, hmm?” Felix mused in a deep voice, the one he knew drove you up the fucking wall in a subtle kind of way. “Okay then.” He said, and soon, his hands were yanking away from your cunt altogether, as he pushed his sweatpants down and off of his hips. 
 In mere seconds, he had his fingers gripping your bare ass, nails digging into the flesh there as he helped move you into position. Holding your breath after that, feeling it widen across the expanse of your ribcage, you slowly began to sink onto his cock, which was glistening with precum. The tip sunk in with ease, and when you finally sunk to the base, a deep wave of pleasure ran across the length of your spine. 
 He was a lot bigger than you had originally thought, and you could feel the tip of him reaching into the very depths of you as he slowly helped guide you back up his length. 
 “Shit- you feel so goddamn amazing, princess…” Felix panted out loud in a thick tone, and with that, he was gripping your hips and helping you sink back down onto his cock with keen precision. 
 With each movement of your hips, he thrust up into you, nails digging into your ass cheeks while you leaned into him, grasping onto his chiseled pecks with the force of each long drawl you took. Nothing else needed to be said between you, as you focused in on the passion that was both thrumming through your veins. 
 Every hit of his cock up into your tightness made the blood in your body boil, and each breath that you took through your constricted lungs brought you a little closer to that blissful cliffside. You cracked your eyes open just a tiny bit to watch Felix’s gaze. The way it was serious and pointed towards the point where your bodies met. 
 The sounds of skin slapping against skin, of your wetness mixing with his girth, almost sent you over the edge countless times. And each time he sheathed himself back inside of you, you could feel his length growing tighter.
 “I-I’m really close, Lix- fuck…” You cried out in a broken tone, throwing your head back as you danced ravenously across his lap. His tip reached up so far into you, that you could practically feel it in your tummy. 
 Felix shuttered in a deep, cloying breath. And when your eyes widened to focus on him again, he was smirking up at you. Pearly white teeth flashing against red lips, he made to kiss you through the wave of pent-up arousal that was flooding your entire system. “Let go for me, my perfect, pretty princess… it’s okay, you can cum around my cock. I don’t mind.” His words made your eyes cross a little bit in bliss. 
 And just like that, your body was moving on its own accord. Thigh trembling around his hips, a strangled kind of scream ripped free from the deepest parts of your soul. Within seconds, you were crashing down from your high, the orgasm lighting every part of your closed vision. Otherworldly visions and galaxies splashed across your mind, taking you to another place as you rode through your high. 
 The entire time, Felix soothed you with beautiful words of praise. And when it was finally time for him to cum, you were only pushed further over the edge of your orgasm. The feeling of him shooting himself deep inside of you made your eyes cross and made you bite your lip in pure ecstasy.
 “Goddamn- your pussy feels so fucking good pulsing around my cock like that- milking me dry-” Felix was spewing half-nonsense as he rode out his own high, thrusting up into you and fucking the cum back between your walls. You were incredibly glad that you hadn’t used anything for protection because you knew that your first time with Felix wouldn’t have felt as special if there was plastic between the two of you. 
 When the two of you finally came down from your highs, it was only a matter of time before Felix was pulling out of you. Groaning at the absence of him, he positioned the two of you so that you were both lying down on his bed. 
 “Was that… too much?” He asked, turning onto his side to peer into your eyes.
 Mimicking his posture, you traced a few fingers across his freckled cheeks which were still warm to the touch from arousal. “Baby, no. It was perfect because you’re perfect.”  
 He giggled like a little schoolboy at that, grabbing ahold of your waist and yanking you close to his form. He brought his face close to yours, whispering in the lightest of voices, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life again. From the moment we first time, I never wanted to be parted from you, Y/N.” 
 “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Felix.” You murmured, just as he leaned in to press fleeting kiss after kiss against your lips. Then you were pulling away from his affection, offering him a smirk. “Now help me clean myself up.” 
 “Why? You don’t wanna carry my baby?” He was pretending to be offended, furrowing his brow and frowning in a sardonic kind of way. 
 Punching his bare shoulder playfully, you rolled your eyes in only a slight bit of annoyance. “Not right now, stupid.”
 “Okay, but that leaves the future up for interpretation…” 
 For a few seconds, you let the silence fade between you. And you could feel the tiny smile crack across the corners of your lips as the realization entered Felix’s mind. That quite possibly, one day, when the two of you were much older, you’d want to carry his babies.
 Then, in the blink of an eye, he was grasping your hands and pulling you up from the bed. Leading you open to the bathroom with a bright grin flashing across his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” 
 And you let him take the lead. 
 You let him, knowing in the back of your mind that no matter what- he would always have your back. 
 No matter how much time you spent apart and how much shit happened between the interim. 
 He had always been the only person there for you, and we would continue to be for the rest of eternity. 
 Through thick and thin. 
 First, as a best friend. 
 And second, as a partner and the love of your life. 
Fin.
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brucewaynehater101 · 3 days
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I'm so glad you like it and I love all your feed back. Tim would 100% have plenty of trauma that he just. Is *refusing* to address due to starting that identity when he was likely still a teen. Tim having the identity if Jane Doe is also 100% going to help him with coming to terms with all the shifty stuff his family did.
As for Jason, I think he would see Jane refusing to be near him as Jane being skittish, likely due to the many guns he is visibly wearing. He knows he has a reputation as a protector, but he also knows that part of that reputation is that people do fear him. He'll just. Need to give Jane time to relax around him, yeah?
Though I do have a version that ends much worse for everyone. The Bats aren't the first to find out who Jane Doe is. No, Tim makes a mistake. To calm down someone he's friends with after they almost got mugged and he saved them as Red Robin, without thinking he made a joke referencing an inside joke which made the two ladies laugh. Only one problem. Only they and Jane Doe understand that joke because no one else was there. It was just those three. Meaning Jane Doe is Red Robin. Which would logically put N as Nightwing, H as (Red) Hood, and R as Robin with B as Batman.
This also means these two now "know" how the Bats treat Red Robin and they spread word *fast*. Within a week all the Sex Workers who were worried about Jane know and help Jane sneak away whenever they know a Bat is going to be coming by. This also means that almost over night all of the Sex Workers, Bar Owners, and most of the homeless (at least the ones in Jane's area who know him) are refusing to work with any Bats but Red Robin.
They are full on *scared* of Robin because they know he carries a sword, they know he uses it on criminals, and if he's willing to use that sword to nearly kill his own older brother multiple times? Whats stopping him from hurting them if he thinks they're up to something? Batman? The guy who they now believe either used to or still does beat up his own kids? No, they saw what happened before Tim became Robin they *remember*. The ones who flirted with Nightwing are suddenly shunning him or full on sneering at him. They believe he stole his own younger brother's first time (Tim only said N stole something precious that he could never give back and that it hurt very badly. He meant Robin but he couldn't tell them it was Robin) after tricking his younger brother into falling in love with him (Tim told them that Dick was the first person to make him feel truly loved and adored, because this is 100% bad parents Jack and Janet who told him "do whatever it takes to succeed")
There is so much miscommunication in this AU. It's funny and devastating at the same time.
Them finding out before the Bats reminds me of the fics that explore the street kids finding out that Red Hood beat up Robin (a child) even though he promised to never harm kids and to protect them. This causes them to instantly distrust him, and Red Hood is never able to earn their trust again.
I imagine that the sex workers would probably react similarly to Red Hood. Instead of being greeted warmly, suddenly everyone is treating im with caution. That's so much fucking angst for Jason (especially if he finds comfort/support from sex workers due to them helping him when he was homeless).
Also, there might be a time when the sex workers are mad at Red Robin (and some probably stay mad). They see taking a persona of a sex worker as insulting and making light of their situation. Some of them would never do that work if they had choices, which RR obviously has.
Then they start to logic how old he was when he started (he was doing this when he was Robin), how he is actually still selling himself because he performs the work, and that he probably does view it as a necessity. I wonder if there's any misconceptions that Batman knew/knows about RR's activities and whether they would compare that to pimps.
But yeah. They would become almost hostile to all Bats and RH.
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amqiii · 2 days
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➠ headcanons || how dates with Xavier would be like
content: fluff, dates, kisses, cuddles and hugs, slight teasing
word count: 644
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▪︎ I feel like dependig on the mood and/or occasion, dates with Xavier could be anything from casual dates at an arcade to secret intimate moments under the starry night sky.
▪︎At one of your first dates at the beginning of your relationship, Xavier would suggest you coming over to his place to watch the movie you recommended some time ago and stay for dinner afterwards.
▪︎...Let's say you were quick to get him to order out or to at least let you give him a helping hand in the kitchen. You didn't want him to do all the work alone after all, as both of you were equally exhausted from the mission before. Yeah, that was definitely not a lie, and no, you totally weren't panicking.
▪︎Sometimes Xavier would suprise you with a day off of work after he sees you having a stressful time at work with all the missions and related paper work you had to deal with the week before.
▪︎When that happens, Xavier would take you to that one new café that sells those 'cute couple themed pancakes' you mentioned at least once a day the past few days in hopes he would take the hint, and that he did. Though it has been pretty obvious, even to someone like him.
▪︎He won't tell you where you're heading to until the both of you are there though, just to tease you a little.
▪︎"Xavieer, we've been walking for fifteen minutes already. Won't you just tell me please??"
▪︎"Patience angel, were almost there."
▪︎No matter the place or time of your date Xavier always seeks some kind of skinship with you. Be it one arm draped around your figure on cuddle times on his bed to press you closer to his chest, or occasional kisses on your temple to spur you on during your turn on the claw machine while hugging you from behind.
▪︎It doesn't matter if you're out with your colleagues or some other people, you'll always feel Xavier touching you some kind of way, if not giving you full on kisses on your lips when he feels like it, whether you like it or not. And while he's at it, Xavier will make sure to leave you flushed and needy for more. You would rather do anything than admit it though. And he has the audacity to act all innocent and oblivious to his affect he has on you too, all while a slight smirk is breaking through his poker face.
▪︎"Do you have a fever? Your face has turned really hot. Should we head home?"
▪︎"N-no... I'm fine.."
▪︎There are also times when you and Xavier decide to lie out blankets and pillows to to build a blanket fort. And to make it even more comfortable you hang up fairy lights inside and take in all the plushies you won together and a few snacks Xavier got you at the supermarket beforehand.
▪︎And after he gets all drowsy and sleepy he just won't leave you alone. Xavier will cling onto you for dear life until he wakes up again and you just know that won't be in a long time. And whenever you move to loosen his tight grip on you a little, Xavier presses you even tighter against his chest, leaving small gentle kisses on your shoulder. His hot and steady breath tickles the nape of you neck, making you shudder a bit which leads him to let out a slight chuckle.
▪︎"Come closer, darling. I need you to keep me warm." He kisses the side of your neck one last time.
▪︎Yeah, he definitely won't be letting off of you anytime soon.
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a/n: requests are open so feel free to suggest some ideas for future fanfics/headcanons 🫶
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TMAGP 17 Thoughts: Hyde and Seek
Another really great episode. Of all the episodes thus far I think this one is the grandest in scope in terms of the series as a whole. It's opened up some very large topics.
Spoilers for episode 17, and light spoilers for TMA, below the cut.
First things first, Celia is blacking out and waking up in strange places again. A lot of reasons why this could be but as I believe I mentioned for TMAGP 11 Thoughts I thought the side-effects of dimension-hopping was a possibility. Given what this episode is about I think it's at least trying to imply a connection if not outright stating one.
Celia missed the date because blackouts but interestingly enough she didn't lie during this exchange. At least assumption I didn't miss any distortions, and those distortions are for lies. Anyway this was all very sweet and mushy but does have a pertinent detail. Celia was on her way to Oxford, a location prominently featured in the incident. Whether that's related of just some nice narrative symmetry remains to be seen, but we do see it's at least intentional.
The incident itself is our second Magnus statement. It's a really really good statement too. One of my favourites of the series so far, if not my favourite. It opens with a similar format to the last one and again mentions subject/agent/catalyst viability. All low. Then we get a mention of Welling Mutare Materia and "Mutare Materia" is something like "Changing Matter" and it's hard not to see the alchemic allusion in that. The set up is a, as yet unnamed, patient receiving therapy for anger issues. But that's probably the least interesting thing about this entire scene.
The most interesting thing is the thing everyone is collectively screaming about.
Anyway, there was a new receptionist behind the old front desk, some big, soft looking guy who stumbled over every word... ...There was another patient too, some bookish-looking guy with serious city miles. I used to play the game “what are you in for” where I would pass the time guessing… well, you know. In my head he was definitely some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids or something.
I'm not going to get too into why those descriptions are important. If you know you know and I don't need to tell you. If you don't I'd rather not. Although I will say that it's very obvious that second one is who we all think it is. Or it's at least what we're meant to think. Alex wrote this episode and "some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids" is the kind of insult you know he's revel in writing for a character like this. It also implies a lot, or absolutely nothing. Because it could be coincidence. It could be that they are responsible for the whole thing. It could just be setting the stage for what's to come. Which is what I think this is. It's an episode about interdimensional travel and it's just prepping the audience to know that's a thing that can happen. Reminding us who it could happen to. As if we've forgotten.
The patient meditates and then a lot of time seems to pass. A lot a lot. Interdimensional travel always involves time fuckery. What's interesting about it is that it doesn't ever seem to work the same way twice. Anya was a week or so, Celia was years, and this guy seemingly just sat there for weeks instead of moving in time like the others have appeared to. The methodology of this is also new where there wasn't any gap between walks to slip through, he stayed still the whole time and then woke up somewhere different. However when he meets this universe's version of himself there doesn't seem to be any significant time slip to mention. Dates in their lives don't line up quite right, which is expected, but he doesn't appeared to have travelled in time in any major way.
This does all take place in Oxford. Which is where Hilltop Road is but it doesn't appear as if the patient was at Hilltop Road for this. As we've seen previously with Hilltop it doesn't look like it works as it does in TMA here. It does seem like the Magnus Institute is monitoring Oxford for these types of events though, even if they're not happening in quite the same place. If that is the case it could also be the case that they're sending things back too. Hell, Dr. Dumfries could be in on it and sending the Institute lab rats.
I'm going to skip over most of the meat of this statement. It was really well done but really quite explicit and as such there isn't a lot for me to dig into. I don't want to explain to you what you just listened to when it's all pretty plain. But it was really great and I do want to mention that.
We do learn that his name is Darrien. The other Darrien is also Darrien. And that makes this episode the introduction of our second and third Darrien. Futures also had a Darrien who was also kind of a twat. Which is interesting. Firstly because TMA has a habit of naming characters similar names and it never meant anything. People just had similar names because people have similar names sometimes. However, our beloved Norris used to be called Neil in the pilot. But Neil is now Norris because there was another Neil. Which means one of two things to me, either Darrien, Darrien, and Darrien, are all Darrien because it's vitally important. Or Alex is fucking with up. Because it's Alex it could as likely be either.
Last thing to mention I do love how this one ends. Darrien is so sure of himself and how protected he is but we know he's locked up in a research prison from the jump. The Institute is also clearly larger than it was in TMA. More resources, more pull, more power. Love getting to see all those details bit by bit.
Interesting note here: Harcourt House isn't the Harcourt House that I think most people will have looked up on Google. This isn't in London, it's in Oxford. This is Stanton Harcourt. Which has some reputation for hauntings and cursed romances. Totally not relevant for anything going on in this episode. No sir.
Celia thanking Freddy/Chester is also interesting. She's obviously more aware of everything than the rest of the team is, and she's got history with those voices, but she's also the first to really acknowledge how pointed these incidents are. There is a very consistent theme of incidents connecting to the teams current situation or desires. I hope we get to see more of this from her where she's more aware that there a personality at play rather than just a voice.
We cap off with a lovely bit of banter between Alice and Gwen where they almost don't try to kill each other. It was very sweet. And obviously an episode with all this going on couldn't leave out a good ol' .jmj error to really hammer it home.
Also, Colin's not dead. Maybe.
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Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet
Klaus Watch: We're back with a very exciting Klaus Watch. Row 20 has CAT2RC1147 and no date, location, or notes. I lied about it being exciting.
DPHW Theory: 1147 is interesting. Because crosslinks do seem to impact DPHWs based on the two Bonzo episodes but Mascot (Kids) -/- Murder was at 2275. Which implies that Mascot (Kids) has 2 in Death and Pain as default and that Murder doesn't increase those values. It does seem to increase Helplessness though which is something that makes a good deal of sense at least.
CAT# Theory: CAT2 is very CAT2. While it fits with the most popular theory, well enough at least, I just wrote an essay entitled Putting the CAT# Back in the Bag: The Flaws With Person/Place/Object if anyone is interested.
R# Theory: C is inline with my ideas. Very easy to discount this as entirely fiction.
Header talk: Doppleganger (Interdimensional) -/- Murder is a very interesting one. These are all existing categories so interdimensional doubles are things the OIAR have dealt with in the past. So dimension hoppers aren't anything new and with everything that's happened this episode I think we're going to see a lot more of it, and characters that are a lot more knowledgeable about it than our protagonists.
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kezzzx · 1 day
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Anika knew who Jesper Fahey was before she’d ever joined the Dregs. While Kaz’s name carries weight, and perhaps a small shudder of fear, Jesper’s name comes with a knowing smirk and some sort of comment on his sexual prowess. She’d deny it if anyone ever asked her, but the truth of the matter is that she has slept with him. Just the once, as is his way, and his reputation is entirely true. He is, unfortunately, a very good shag, and his list of previous bedfellows is probably longer than Anika’s entire arm.
It comes as very little surprise to her when a rumour starts circulating amongst the gang that Fahey had not only previously slept with their brand new demo man, but had also, apparently, forgotten about it. What is surprising, though, is that Jesper has apparently gone back for seconds (and thirds, and fourths…), because said demo man practically lives at the Slat nowadays, and the pair are frequently together.
“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Anika whispers. She’s sitting at a table at the Crow Club nursing a well-earned beer after finishing her shift.
Beside her, Pim raises an eyebrow but his eyes stay locked on the sight of notorious flirt Jesper Fahey contentedly sitting beside his… boyfriend? What is his name anyway? Henderson? Hen… something. It’s on the tip of her tongue. The demo man is tucked happily tucked up against Fahey’s side, grinning at him over the rim of his glass.
For the life of her, Anika cannot work out what it is about him that has Jesper so transfixed. Sure, he is objectively good-looking, though men with pretty eyes and delicate features don’t really do it for her, and he must be clever if he knows his way around explosives, but in their - admittedly limited - interactions since Hendriks joined the Dregs, she’s found him kind of meek. Unassuming.
“It won’t last,” Pim says eventually. “He’ll get bored. This is Fahey we’re talking about after all.”
Anika hums. She traces her fingers over the droplets of condensation running down the side of her beer glass, then takes a long drink. See, normally she’d agree with Pim. But the pair have already been to Ravka and back, and she has a sneaking suspicion that the messy-haired demo man - and really, what is his name? - might actually have fully moved into Fahey’s room.
“I don’t know Pim, I feel like this is different.”
-
A few weeks later and Anika is ready to tear her hair out. She’s never paid too much attention to the fact that her room is directly next to Jesper’s, but now that it’s Jesper and Wylan’s room, well, that’s another matter. To put it simply, Anika has overheard more than she ever needed to over the past few weeks, and it’s seriously starting to grate.
She glares at Jesper as he enters the living area at the Slat. He’s alone, but pours two cups of coffee anyway, taking both with him as he joins her and Nina at their table.
“You’re very loud, you know that?” Anika says around a mouthful of lacklustre porridge.
Nina snorts into her breakfast, but Jesper only grins with the self-satisfied smirk of someone who is having good sex and a lot of it.
“I could buy you some earplugs, if you like.”
Anika scowls at him. “You could try asking loverboy to keep it down.”
“I could,” Jesper says mildly with a shrug of his shoulders. He drums his fingers against the table as he raises his mug to his lips. “But I quite like the noises he makes.”
Anika seriously considers hitting him.
“It’s not just Wylan, they’re both as bad as each other,” Nina grumbles, stabbing at a piece of sausage a little too forcefully. “Do you know, Anika, I’m pretty sure I heard this one,” she gestures at Jesper with her fork, “begging the other night. Seems quite unlike you, what was Wylan doing, hm?”
“He has very talented fingers,” Jesper says, pointedly ignoring the gagging noise Anika directs at him. “And don’t take it out on me just because Kaz hasn’t smuggled Matthias out of Hellgate yet. You should be happy at least some of us are getting laid.”
Nina opens her mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it again when Wylan drops into the empty chair next to Jesper, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he does so. Anika scowls at him too for good measure. Surely, she thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.
She is proved disgustingly wrong when Nina’s Fjerdan slab of fur moves into the Slat a week later, and the pair upgrade to a bigger room. Surely all the Saints must hate her, because the room they move into is directly above hers.
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jamsterrr · 3 days
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SEONGHWA .. Fatal Attraction 1
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seonghwa. fatal love. ex lovers. “ i want you again .. “
description ; thinking it was for the best , breaking up with your boyfriend of 3 years since you both “ grew apart “ but when a mis understanding comes about. what will happen when you’re forced to spend time together, what happened to those “ we just grew apart “ feelings.
seonghwa!ateez x female!reader
words : 2k
contains. ‼️ ; cursing , sexual scenes , 18+ content , may contain typos , slight slow burn. ( let me know if i miss anything ! )
MULTIPLE PARTS .. !!
———— .. ᯓᡣ𐭩 ( part one ) ᡣ𐭩ᯓ .. ————
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
You took the small step into your apartment as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Yesterday's work had drained you. Being a photographer worked a lot on you both mentally and psychically. Staying up most nights to edit pictures, booking as many weekend sessions as you could to be able to afford even rent at times. Though it was mentally stressful it still worked out for you in the end. After breaking up with your boyfriend of 3 years, you thought that nothing could tear you down after remembering how you were for almost 3 weeks straight. 
Working in the same place didn't help either. Having to see him when you'd rather you didn't. But you didn't hate him, just his actions on certain things. Regardless, you still kept professional and even more happy that you didn't have to be around him as much. Though feelings still tended to be raw, and you found yourself looking at your old ' happy ' photo together wondering where did everything go wrong?
As you settled down for the day, at work on the last day for a month's time due to a little renovation of your building. You set to use this time to relax, to take time slow. Bills were paid, fridge was stocked and house clean. You were determined to relax. Taking your hair out of its pinned-up state, leaving it to rest in its natural state, running your hands through it as you made your way to your room. A small smile resting on your face when you notice your dog sleeping fondly on the bed, his body curled up and head resting on the pillow next to you. 
You gently took your hand, gliding it through the golden retriever's fur as he looked at you, his tail wagging and hitting the bed. Your smile stayed as you made your way to the closet, looking through all of your choices of relaxation clothes. Simply deciding on some shorts, along with a oversized t-shirt, slightly covering the shorts, but that didn't matter, you were in your own place.
Deciding to make your way to your kitchen to wind down for the night, all of the sudden feeling a vibration rattle against your skin. Taking your phone out of your shorts pocket.
The pounding in your heart sent chills down your spine. It was Hwa, someone you didn’t expect. Your ex at the least of all people that could call you. Before the call could end and the phone stopped vibrating you answered, hearing a short breath at the end.
“Hey Y/N, we need to talk … “ he spoke. “About?” You asked, though your tone wasn’t rude, just genuinely interested in why the man you didn’t love anymore, who said didn’t love you anymore was calling you.
“My parents expect you at the family trip” he started. Your eyes widening. Early in the year Hwa’s parents were getting ready for their summer trip, making sure to invite any and everyone. Mostly for memories and since you were considered a member of the family, as well as knowing how much they loved you, you were invited.
“Hwa..” you started. “You didn’t tell your parents we broke up?” Though the silence over the phone told you everything you needed to know about the situation. “No..” the male softly mumbled. “Do you want me to tell them you won’t be attending?” The male suggested. Though his tone sounded hurt. Why would he be.
You took a deep sigh. Could you face Hwa? Would these feelings you put aside start to flood back to you? “No..” you spoke as you gently rubbed the skin near your temple. “You shouldnt tell them that. I’ll come..”.
The feelings you had right now, overshadowing the overall situation at hand. “I’ll make sure to let them know, and I’ll come and pick you up at 7am” the male said softly. The phone connection slightly statically moving. “Okay” is all you were able to reply with. “See you then” and then the phone call was over.
What did I get myself into? Was the only thought that came to your head. Not even the fact that you were hungry. Though you forgot to ask the male an important question.
———————
# contact ,, Seonghwa. 78%…
What about Pop?
You can bring him.. they love him
and tons of room for him to run around.
Ok..
———————
( pop is your dogs name btw. )
The day seemed to go by faster at the thought of going on this trip with your ex. Not wanting to disappoint his family this also meant you had to put on an act. But if your feelings were gone? How were you going to do that?
A sigh escaped your lips once again before you pulled out your bags, stuffing in a couple of outfits, important hygiene things you needed as well as a swimming suit, hoping to relax yourself in the lake whenever you could. Deciding to treat this like a paid vacation, only you had to pretend to be in love with your ex still. This should be interesting.
Your bags were finally packed, as well as the thing you might’ve needed for your dog. After a few minutes you decided it was time for you to go to bed. Reaching over and putting your phone on the charger, as well as setting an alarm to get up early.
Closing your eyes as you and your golden retriever dog drifted off to sleep. Your thoughts or worried drifting away so you were finally able to sleep.
Hearing the sound of your alarm caused a groan to escape from your lips. You hated waking up super early in the morning. Though you were excited but slightly anxious for this new trip. Even though it was with a person you’d least want to see, you didn’t want to be bummed out about it. Why?
Slowly making your way out of bed, sitting up and attempting to rub the tiredness out of your eyes. Slowly getting up and rummaging around your dresser, grabbing some casual clothes to be comfortable on the ride there.
Wrapping the leash around your dogs silk fur, you heard a knock at your door. A familiar 3 knocks symbolizing Seonghwa was there.
Your body shuddered in nervousness. This would be the first time seeing him after the breakup, alone and without your friends or colleagues around. Taking a deep breath you walked to the door and opened it as you were greeted by his familiar smile.
“Morning, ready to go?” He asked, bending down and petting Pop. You nodded, clipping his leash on and grabbing your bags before his hand gently grabbed onto them. “I got them, you just get Pop” and that’s what you did.
You watched as the male carry the bags down the apartment stairs and to his car. You following close behind with Pop, leading him into the car when Seonghwa unlocked it. Debating on if you should sit in the front with him, or the back with Pop. Though your body and mind was already a costumed to sit in the front. That’s where you ended up.
Your head rested against the window as you felt the weight of the car shift slightly. Your eyes shooting up to be met by Seonghwa’s.
“I want you to be comfortable this whole time, are you okay?” The male asked softly. You could see it in his eyes.
“I’m good, I’m okay, just a little tired. I’ll go to sleep alright?” You spoke, looking towards him and then turning your head to rest against the window. It was too early for you to think about anything.
Your body felt the car get into gear as your eyes closed. Letting your body drift off to sleep.
After what felt like a whole day you woke up as you felt the car shut off. “Are we here?” You asked the male as he gave you a smile and shook his head. “No, 30 minutes away, but we’ll be there soon” he hummed. “I’m stopping to use the bathroom, you should let Pop do the same” he spoke as he handed you the keys and got out of the car. You slipped the keys onto your wrist and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes.
Gently grabbing the leash from the back and clipping it to the dogs collar, you opened the door to let the dog out before walking him to a reserved spot so he could do his business.
Afterwards you put him back in the car, spotting Seonghwa coming back with a bag full of snacks and drinks. “Finally..” you mumbled slightly as the male chuckled being able to hear you.
“You just woke up, and I know you get hangry, so I decided to just go ahead and nip it in the butt before you chew my head off” the male spoke, putting the snacks into the car.
You huffed and shook your head. “I’ll be back. I’m going to the bathroom” you said slightly rolling your eyes playfully at the male. You caught yourself before straitening your face and going to the bathroom, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes once again. Finally, after a couple of minutes, you finished in the gas station bathroom and spotted the male playing with Pop as a smile gleamed on your face as you got back in the car. "Ahh~ Hwa lets go, I'm ready to be there and get settled in.
--
After a couple of more hours of driving to the place, many laughs, old jokes the two of you used to tell together to see who would laugh the loudest or the most, and you would always lose. You pulled up to the familiar cabin that you had been to at least once before. The smell of the slightly nostalgic air hitting your nose. "Wow, it's been forever" You spoke to the other, gently stepping out as you let Pop out of the car, the three of you being greeted by Hwa's parents. The both of them giving you big and bright smiles, his mother opening her arms to give you a big hug, you, bowing respectfully and finally hugging her back. "It's been too long Y/n since we have seen you!" the woman said, her grip strong, swaying the two of you side to side.
Hwa chuckled a little nervously before looking at his father and then his mother. "Mom, don't squish her" the male spoke, taking the bags from the trunk, walking up the wooden stairs.
"Shush, I'm just excited to see Y/n" the older woman rolled her eyes at her son. "You two must be tired, lets get you and this beautiful dog inside, rest up and i will fix us some lunch" the woman said, his father greeting you with a smile as well. "That sounds absolutely amazing".
Your face glanced at Seonghwa's, whose hands were now empty and prepared to lead you to the room you two would be sharing for the next month. You bit your lip nervously before excusing yourself from the older couple and made your way to Hwa, following him through the familiar cabin, with the sound of Pop's paws following behind you. Seonghwa carefully opened the door, the room still looking the same, only a few things have changed. The position of the bed, there had no longer been a moose picture plastered on the woods and there was no couch in the room. The two of you stepped in the room, Seonghwa coming in after you. "If you'd be more comfortable I have no problem with sleeping on the couch" he spoke, taking in your staring at the bed. "Oh... no its okay, then people would question why we aren't sleeping together, and I don't want to handle that right now" you replied, walking over to the bed and sitting gently on it. "Plus, it does get cold, and I might only need you for warmth" you said teasing the male, a smile appearing on both faces.
"Yeah, whatever you say Y/n" the male spoke in a low voice, rolling his eyes as he tossed your bags beside you. "Unpack and change, let's get ready for lunch".
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ part 2 here.
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