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targaryenluvs · 3 months

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— BEST LIFE

pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)

summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?

warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋

when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.

what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.

“you’re sitting here,”

“uh-huh.”

“telling me,”

“yup.”

“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”

you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.

“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”

your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.

“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”

“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”

“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”

“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”

“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”

“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”

your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.

derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.

“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.

what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.

penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”

and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.

you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.

“and how much would he loose?”

“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”

“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”

reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.

“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?

spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.

“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”

spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”

spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.

as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?

“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.

“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”

lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.

his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.

right now, you were living your best life.

#criminal minds x bau!reader #criminal minds x reader #suits x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #harvey specter x fem!reader #harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you

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notjustjavierpena · 2 months

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you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!

this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut

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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️

Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk

Word count: 8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297

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The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days.

“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl.

Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice.

You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.

“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance.

“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.”

“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him.

“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.”

“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo.

“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen.

“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.

“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”

Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear.

“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”

“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”

“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply.

He tuts, “Bullshit.”

Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”

You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”

“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face.

“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”

“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight.

“Where are the rascals?” He asks.

“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.

Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello.

“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you.

Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la vez (one at a time).”

“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”

“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk.

“That’s what I said,” she huffs.

“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm.

“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”

“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”

“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”

“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time.

“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.”

She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago.

“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says.

“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat.

Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!”

“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?”

“She told me not to,” he admits shyly.

“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks.

“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”

“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”

“Fine,” his son grumbles.

When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time, chicos (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”

You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”

—

The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed.

“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”

He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day.

“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth.

“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips.

“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”

Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”

“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”

She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”

“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while she laughs and laughs.

“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too.

They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head.

“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender.

“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—”

“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later.

Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment.

“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”

“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”

“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”

Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?”

She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip.

She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”

“Can I?” She widens her eyes.

“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”

He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.

“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room.

Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”

“You’re silly, Papá,” she says.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”

Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.

He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.

However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family.

He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on.

—

He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console.

“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go?

“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”

“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder.

When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).”

“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to.

“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”

“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”

“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand.

“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.

“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”

“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.

“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.

“Really?” He whispers instead.

“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”

He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”

Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”

Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"

“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile.

“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”

“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.

Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”

“You said one more game!” He protests.

Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”

“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed.

“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”

“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up.

“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch.

“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off.

Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring.

“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass.

“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well.

His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon.

You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you.

“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically.

You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”

“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system.

Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it.

“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes.

“What?” He acts oblivious.

“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”

“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”

“Missed you too,” you sigh.

“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.”

“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”

Javier snorts, “But we always—“

“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress.

“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter.

“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.

“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass.

When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed.

“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together.

“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk.

“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet.

There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body.

“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”

“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest.

“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked.

“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”

You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already.

“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”

“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs.

“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along.

“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”

Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits.

“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command.

“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?”

You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”

“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”

You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth.

“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”

Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.

“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and.

You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief.

You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough.

“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”

“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.

“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue.

“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”

“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest.

You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved.

“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you.

Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back.

“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”

Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you.

“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”

It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable.

“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”

You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.

“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.

A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again.

You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick.

“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it.

“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much.

“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”

You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.

“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”

Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.”

When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed.

When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit.

There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give. When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.

A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close.

“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”

He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”

“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words.

“I was thinking of something,” he finally says.

You sit up at that, “What?”

“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you.

You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”

“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”

“Are you serious?” You gape at him.

“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”

“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you.

He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness.

“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.

You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”

“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips.

He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

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unpretty · 5 months

Text

please imagine these bullet points as a series of posts made over the course of a semester in 2015, copied from the tumblr tag i made specifically to bitch about my econ/business government and society professor:

lmao econ prof arguing against the fda

we are also supposed to subscribe to the wall street journal for this class ahahaha like hell

I spoke up about this godawful climate change article and about how literally every fact I tried to check was wrong, he tried to argue that wasn’t the point of the article but it totally was

“Does anyone watch Fox News” this class in a nutshell

the professor in the class i hate is talking about how jesus would love capitalism because it has lifted so many people out of poverty

he’s complaining about progressive income tax lmao god i hate this class

LET THE FREE MARKET DECIDE unless the free market makes an anti-corporate decision, then consumers have been misinformed and the activists responsible should be ashamed of themselves

I hope everyone’s ready for Shitty Class Liveblogging because now he’s claiming that gas prices will never go back up and gas will always be cheap from now on and also peak oil is a lie

Now he’s talking about the story of Jonah and the whale as relates to this article he saw in the Wall Street Journal. Across the class, I see a girl squint into the middle distance and mouth the word, “what.”

“is it okay to fire a pizza delivery person who doesn’t want to drive to a bad neighborhood”

this is the literal worst and most bullshit explanation of utilitarianism I have ever experienced oh my god. for the purposes of this class we are supposed to ignore ‘for the greatest number’ as an aspect of utilitarianism. just. completely altering the basic foundation of utilitarianism as an idea. apparently the free market didn’t like the actual definition so they changed it.

THIS PROFESSOR IS PRO-ENRON I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING RIGHT NOW THIS IS A REAL THING #FREE MARKET IT WAS LEGAL FREE MARKET

“I don’t think we have very many people in the United States dying because they couldn’t afford medication” actual quote from this professor right now

lmao i’m in the class i hate, he’s complaining about net neutrality now

This just in: poor people are poor because they make bad decisions, the wealth gap can be eliminated by teaching poor people how to play the stock market. This is a real thing that he apparently gives presentations about. He gets paid to tell people this.

Shitty professor isn’t going to be there tomorrow but he wants us to come in anyway to listen to a lecture on CD. Not one of his, just generally. Like, a home learning thing he bought. We asked if he could just put it on Blackboard but he said he didn’t know how to put a CD on Blackboard.

lmao I fucking knew this was the great courses. this professor is off at a conference telling people to teach the poor to trade stocks and he’s just having us sit here listening to an audiobook course he paid for about philosophy.

shitty professor is arguing the necessity of child labor in third world countries because otherwise the children would starve and be prostitutes. yes those are definitely the only two options.

oh my god he just argued that the rich are a minority protected by the constitution

I was really embarrassed about getting a 67 out of 85 on this Business, Government, and Society test but then it turned out the class average was 40 and I got the highest grade in the class. My strategy of always picking the answer I find most morally reprehensible is going well for me.

Monopolies aren’t actually that bad! Also, unions are monopolies, which is bad. (i was the only one who got a lot of the essay questions right so I had to read them in class it was awful)

libertarian economist professor gets really emotional about animals and i think he just argued that if elephants were privately owned they wouldn’t be poached because no one poaches cows

It’s my last week in the class I hate before finals and I’m pretty sure he’s arguing that the Enron scandal happened because there was too much government regulation

oh my god he’s arguing that enron was trying to do california a favor by pointing out a flaw in their system (by exploiting it) h my god he’s not even addressing the fraud in their accounting this whole class has been leading up to his passionate defense of fucking enron

#original #he had nothing to do with the candy bar that was just a very funny punchline to my student loans

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nanaslutt · 6 months

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you are a god fr, I love everything you write, i owe you my life. pitching two ideas because i believe in you:

nanami getting sucked off under his desk while in a conference call

bossy dom gojo getting carried away and apologetically pampering afterwards

HEELLLOOOWWW???? the nanami one has me sweating

therefore we’re gonna start w that one >:)

tysm for the ask beb ily<3

contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), deepthroating, kinda exhibitionism (he’s on a call w/ his coworkers), voyeurism mentioned, dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, choking, manhandling, established relationship, nanami is in love w reader, brat tamer!nanami, 1 spank & spanking mentioned

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The balding mans unpleasent voice seeps through nanami's laptop speakers, saying something about project needing to be completed in the near future.

These completely unnessicary meetings--to quote nanami himself--never failed to give him the worst migraines. He wasted away enough of his precious life at the office listening to the graveling voice of his headache of a boss during the week, why should he be forced to spend his day off in a conference call with coworkers who's faces he barely regognizes?

Nanami was stressed beyond belief, which is exactly why you; being the sweet and thoughtful partner you are; were currently supporting him.

With your mouth.

Around his cock.

Under his desk.

Luckily for the blonde-haired man, he was only required to have his camera on. Nanami had an amazing poker face, but there would be no covering up the loud slurps and squelches emitting from your mouth that was currently stuffed full of his girthy cock.

He knew he should probably be listening to what his coworkers were conversing about, but although his face failed to show it, his brain wasn't exactly working in the most pristine condition at the moment.

His lashes fluttered, eyes drooping slightly when you took him deeper into your throat, cock jumping against the roof of your mouth when you gagged and hummed around him.

Grip tightened around his coffee mug as he brought it up to his face, faux taking a sip so he could hide his mouth behind the mug to let out a groan.

"Feel good Kento?" you ask sweetly. You were always so concerned for him. Not wasting any time when offering to get on your knees for your man after he remembered only ten minutes before, that he even had a meeting scheduled today. He was planning to stay in bed with you and cuddle all morning, dreams being shattered in real-time when his digital watch reminder chimed.

Groaning into your chest and apologizing profusely, he started to roll out of bed and make himself presentable as quick as possible. That's when you caught his larger hand in your own, and proposed your offer. Surprised when he actually accepted your proposal. Kento wasn't really one for risk, but he was in dire need of your company on this day.

You took any opportunity you got to spend time with Kento, him working a 9-5 and all. You did see a message on his phone the other day from a "gojo satoru", saying something about talking to "yaga" about coming back to work at a school? You didnt know if that meant you would see him more frequently or not. Maybe you would finally have time to go on that trip to Malaysia you always talked about together, but that was a discussion for another time.

Voices of his coworkers muffling more and more, their words sounding foreign to him as he focused on the warmth your mouth provided, already feeling his headache start to dissipate.

Your moans vibrating around his cock made him feel dizzy, but he looked totally put together. You were slightly irritated that he looked so unaffected. Wanting to see his facade crack, craving his deep moans to resound in your ears while fucked your throat with reckless abandon in front of his pervy coworkers, giving them a show. Imagining their surprised reactions to seeing the usually stoic and put-together Nanami Kento, crumble under your hands was making you aroused.

You understood how important this meeting was, and for the both of you to not get caught, but from the message you saw it sounded like he was in the middle of changing his profession anyways, so did it really matter?

All reason being thrown out the window as your hand comes down to knead and massage his balls between your fingers, using your saliva that had dripped from the base of his cock to ease the slide against his sensitive sack.

You saw his abs clench under his shirt, the only change in demeanor being the deep breath he took, grunting softly when he let it out.

He looked down at you for a beat, if you weren't so focused on his chiseled face, searching for the reactions you craved, you would've missed the warning look he gave you. One that said, watch yourself.

Smirk tugging at your lips, occupied with his girth, you pulled back almost completely off him, continuing to massage his balls with one hand, the other coming up to stroke the part of his cock that wasn't in your mouth anymore.

You pointed the tip of your tongue, teasing it into the slit of his cock, he made the mistake of actually taking a sip of his coffee at the same time, covering his mouth with his arm and choking on the liquid when he felt you flick your tongue into the entrance of his urethra.

Alarms going off in his head when his boss called attention to his little coughing fit, "Nanami? Are you alright?" he knew that everyone in the meeting now had their attention on him, you knew that too.

And still you didn't stop

He spoke your name darkly, a verbal warning now, before raising his head from the crook of his arm to switch himself off mute. Coughing a bit; not at the coffee anymore; when you kept your ministrations going strong. "Y-yes, sorry, wrong pipe," he struggled out.

Satisfaction filling your chest, finally seeing more of a reaction from him like you wanted. Going back to throating his cock in one swift motion, hand that was stroking him coming to rest on top of his veiny one that was sitting against his thigh, bouncing with his knee.

Squeezing your hand around his, he returned the action, fingers curling into yours when he felt your palm come into contact with his skin. Moved his curser back to mute himself once more as he felt himself inching closer and closer to his orgasm caused by your expert technique.

Nanami's thick fingers stalled against the mousepad when his boss spoke up again, "Good to hear you're alright then! Since you have your mic on, and we haven't heard from you yet, how about you tell us your input regarding the project and your thoughts on what has been said so far?"

fuuuuuuuuck you've got to be kidding

If he had a button that he could press right now that would kill him, he would press it a heartbeat, zero hesitation.

Nanami never has been the universe's favorite.

It wasn't so much that he didn't know what had already been said or what the project was about, but moreso that he was quite literally on the precipice of his orgasm, and was about to be thrown off the edge.

Worst fucking timing ever.

Tapping his heavy fingers against the desk next to the speaker on his laptop to cover the slurping sounds that were now barely audible thanks to your softer sucking. Maybe you did have a conscious he thought briefly. well..just maybe, considering you didnt stop.

The feeling of your mouth being no less intense even with softer technique, arguably more arousing as it felt like you were teasing him, slowly building him up to his orgasm with kittle licks on his tip, hunching down to lap at his balls, sticking your tongue out flat and letting his heavy sack come into contact with the warm appendage.

He squeezed your hand tight as he started to talk, lots of uncharacteristic 'ums', stuttering, and well-timed coughs filling in his sentences as he tried to get out his input as quickly as possible so he could fucking cum already. Then he could deal with you.

He tried to stave off his orgasm by untensing the muscles in his pelvis. This technique was just enough for him to make it to the end of his speech, quickly muting himself and bringing the back of his hand to his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Jaw dropping behind his fingers as his deep voice groaned out unabashedly, clenching his jaw as rope after rope spurted out the slit of his cock, dirting your hair.

Unaware of how close he really was from his inability to warn you beforehand, you quickly brought your face into place, sucking his cock back into your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth on the length of him. Sucking and swallowing what was left of his warm cum as he dropped his hand back onto the desk in a fist, clenching it hard, making the veins on his wrist pop out while he rode out the aftershocks.

Face straightening out once more, chest still heaving through his mouth, cracked open slightly. Continuing to dart your tongue out around his dick. His hard cock twitched against your face when you leaned down to lick and against the rough material of his pants, cleaning the cum he spilled there, while his boss wrapped up the meeting.

He shut his laptop with such speed and force the second the chime signaling the end of the meeting commenced, making you worry about the state of the screen before his hand was in your hair.

He yanked on it hard, crouching slightly to meet your face halfway as he pulled you up by his harsh grip, "You're fucking done." he spat. Dragging you to his feet he threw you over his shoulder in one swift motion, leaving a loud smack against your ass, yelping when you felt the impact. He was making quick strides towards the bedroom, "So fucking lucky we didn't get caught." he growled, throwing you down on the bed, watching you bounce slightly against the mattress. "how many." he asked impatiently, eyes staring darkly into yours.

"w-what?" you questioned, watching him stand in front of you, hastily taking off his spotted tie as you tried to scoot away from him on the bed. Not letting you get far, he reached out, gripping the entirety of your neck in his big palm and growling his next statement against your mouth, "How many times do you deserve to get spanked?" you gulped hard.

yeahhh, you fucked up.

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you go to Maryland for your work conference, you end up finding something you weren't expecting. And you also get Bradley an early wedding gift.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing and smut

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley worked out after dinner on Friday while you finished packing for your trip. He was happy with his progress with the weight bench, and he loved secretly listening to his decidedly lame playlists alone in the garage with Tramp.

When he walked back into the house, he was pouring sweat and mopping his brow with a towel. He peeled his shirt off and tossed it and the towel right into the washing machine. When he doubled back through the kitchen, you were leaning against the island practicing your presentation with your computer. Wearing just his UVA tee and your underwear.

"Need any help?" he asked, kissing your cheek while he made himself a protein shake.

"Nope. But you can listen to the end, if you want."

Bradley leaned against the kitchen sink and observed you doing your thing. You were so capable. Flawless, really.

"And that, in conclusion, is the fine ass Naval research he we have been doing at Top fucking Gun, ladies and gentlemen," you said with a bow while Bradley applauded loudly.

"So good, Sweetheart. I'd promote you right now."

You beamed at him before you closed out of your presentation and started to shut down your computer. Bradley came to stand behind you, running his hands up the front of the shirt and playing with the elastic of your underwear.

"Mm, you're all sweaty," you said softly as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Had a good workout. What are you doing now?"

"I need to email something to Bickel before I shut my computer down," you said, opening your browser and logging in. "What are you doing?"

He kissed your neck while you started to compose your email. "Gonna fuck you," he rasped. "If you're into it."

You gasped as he ground himself against your ass while you typed. He sucked in a deep breath when you turned and licked his sweaty bicep.

You met his eyes over your shoulder and said, "I'm into it, Roo. My period is nearly over now."

He was already pulling down your underwear, kicking it aside as you stepped out of it. He guided your hips back until you were bending over the island, typing away.

"God, this is hot," he pulled himself from the front of his gym shorts and underwear, teasing himself along your ass. He nudged your legs a little further apart and worked his tip against your entrance.

You were making soft sounds in the back of your throat, trying to keep your focus as he entered you, but just the tip. He worked his hands around and and reached up to play with your tits as you bumped yourself back, taking all of him, inch by inch.

When he was fully seated, be paused for a few beats, enjoying the feel of you fluttering softly around his hard cock. He licked the side of your neck and rolled your nipples until they were hard peaks.

"Roo."

God, he loved it when you called him that. Every single time. "I'm gonna miss you," he promised, staring to thrust. "So much."

"I'm going to miss you, too."

He watched you trying your best to type; the effort was admirable really. "That's not how you spell decisiveness, my love."

"Oh, god," you whined, pushing the computer further away from you and grabbing the edge of the countertop. "Fuck me harder, Bradley."

So he did as you asked, with long, powerful strokes. The sound of your wet pussy getting worked had Bradley completely feral. "I'm gonna miss your body," he groaned. He could tell you were getting close as you begged for more, and the occasional slap to your ass sent a jolt of pleasure though your body and into his where you were connected.

He felt you cum around him, squeezing his dick while he squeezed your tits. You looked back at him with a sated, fucked out expression on your face while he chased his own release. When you arched your back, easing your pussy into a new position for him, he slid his hands down to grab your hips.

"Feels like you just gave me permission to get off however I want," he growled.

When you nodded and bit your lip, he went hard and fast. Your eyes drifted closed, your lashes brushing your cheek as you rested your face softly on your hands. Bradley's balls were slapping you as he dug his fingers into your hip bones. He went so hard, he was panting, the building pressure tugging on him so good. Your body treating him so sweetly to an orgasm that had him shouting your name.

-----------------------------

You were exhausted. Fully spent. Mentally and physically. You could feel your fiancé

cumming inside you, your pussy soaking wet with his release. Your name sounded so good on his lips, his raspy voice the only thing keeping you grounded.

Slowly, gently, he leaned his strong body against your back, kissing you and whispering his love. When his breathing had returned to normal, he pulled your computer closer, cock still buried inside you.

"Let's finish this email, Sweetheart, so we can get some sleep."

He reached his arms around you and finished typing for you as you dictated what you wanted to say. Bradley Bradshaw was everything. You hoped you were doing better, doing enough to show him that.

"You're everything," you told him as you powered your computer down and let his cum drip down your legs when he withdrew. You knew how much he loved that.

The rest of the evening was sweet and delicious as he made you wish you weren't going away for seven days.

"What's your schedule again, Sweetheart?" he asked when you were seated in front of him in your massive bathtub.

"Just getting settled in the barracks tomorrow night, then driving out to see my parents for the whole day on Sunday. And, um, I might try to see Caleb and maybe some of my other friends, too. You remember him? He was at the bar that night when we went to see my parents for Christmas."

Your heart was pounding in your chest now as Bradley kissed your shoulder.

"Is Caleb the pastry chef or the tattoo guy?"

"He's the one who owns the tattoo shop," you said quickly as you continued to rattle off the rest of your plans. You'd be attending a few conferences leading up to your own presentation on Thursday. And then of course Friday you'd be having dinner with the admirals.

"Then I'll be back on Saturday."

"And I'll be picking you up, so happy to be with you again, Baby Girl."

You sighed and let yourself sink back against him. He started to sing along softly to the song playing on your phone as you closed your eyes. You were nervous to see Caleb, because it was a big decision. You had been considering it for a few months anyway, but you knew you'd be more comfortable with someone you knew, especially for your first time.

When Bradley's hands came to rest on your hip bones beneath the water, you smirked. "Roo, my fingers are turning to prunes, and I'm tired."

Wordlessly, you both got out of the tub and dried off, and soon you were drifting to sleep in bed, snuggled against his chest.

Your alarm went off way too early, and you were groaning as Bradley quickly dressed and started to make your coffee.

"Leave me your car keys, Sweetheart. Nat is taking me to drop off the Bronco today," he reminded you.

"Seriously. You need to be nice to my car, Bradley, or so help me," you warned as you handed him your keys and went to collect your luggage from the bedroom.

You sat on the kitchen floor and played with Tramp while you drank your mug of coffee. You and Tramp watched Bradley haul your bin of equipment out to the Bronco, and then he took your personal luggage out as well. Then he came back inside, tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to the passenger seat.

"You are ridiculous." You smiled as he buckled your seatbelt for you, just like he always did. But when he started to pull away to walk around to his own seat, you took his hand and pulled him closer. "I love you, Bradley."

"Mmm, I love you too," he promised, softly kissing your lips. "You're going to give a perfect presentation. I wish I could come to watch you. You're so fucking smart."

But you pulled him closer by his neck until he was halfway on your seat with you. He mashed his lips against yours, and you threaded your fingers through his hair. "I'm really going to miss you," you whined as he worked his mouth along your neck. "So much."

Bradley glanced at his watch, made eye contact with you, and then unbuckled your seatbelt. You whimpered as he scooped you up and hauled you back into the house. You quickly pulled down your leggings and underwear until they were below your knees, and you got yourself onto your back on the couch. As soon as Bradley had his dick free, he was pressing his weight on top of you, pushing you down into the couch cushions as he entered you.

"Damn it, Baby Girl," he growled, fucking you fast and rough. "You make me insane."

"I'm sorry," you gasped. "I needed you, Roo."

Bradley fucked your mouth with his tongue as he went as hard as he could, considering neither of you had undressed even halfway.

"You're fucking ridiculous," he rasped. "Gonna miss your flight. But God, I fucking love you."

He ground himself against your clit, because he knew it would work like a charm for you, and you came as he spilled himself inside you.

You kissed his cheek and ran into the bathroom to get cleaned up. Tramp just looked at you from his napping spot in the sun as you ran past again.

Bradley buckled you in a second time, kissed your forehead and ran around to the driver's side. You reached for his hand after he backed out of the driveway, and he twirled your engagement ring around your finger just like he always did now.

"Hope there's no traffic," he grunted, but there was a smile on his face.

"It was worth it," you said with a shrug as you started a playlist. "Totally worth it."

--------------------------

Bradley thought that by this point, he should write his promise to fuck you whenever you wanted him into his wedding vows. But when he pulled into the airport departures lane with barely any time left for you to check your luggage and equipment, he was cringing.

"Hope you still think it was worth it," he growled, hauling your equipment into the terminal for you.

There was no time for a long goodbye kiss, but you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. "I love you, Roo. I'll call you when I land."

"I love you too, Sweetheart. Have a great week."

Bradley ran back out to the Bronco before it got ticketed, and he pulled away from the curb as you waved to him. A week without you. And right after things were getting better again. At least he had Tramp and the Real Housewives of Atlanta to keep him company.

When he got home, he binged the rest of the season he had started, and ate one of the meals you left in the freezer for him. He wasn't sure how you managed to do everything that you did for him on a regular basis. So before he left for the Hard Deck for the evening, Bradley cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen and vowed not to make a mess of the house all week.

Before he left, Bradley tossed on a Hawaiian shirt and jeans and fed Tramp. Then he dropped the Bronco off at the shop and waited for Nat to pick him up there.

"Things looking better with you and wifey? The wedding still happening?" she asked, pulling out into traffic and heading toward the bar.

"Yeah, we talked, and I managed to... put some sense in her." Bradley smirked out the window as he thought back to edging you until you cried. Next time you so much as sassed him, he was going to have a field day with you.

"That sounds like an innuendo, and while I'm so happy for you, I don't want to hear anything else about it," his best friend said, holding her palm out in his direction. "Now, let's talk about the fact that I still need you to tell me what you want me to wear to your wedding, so I have time to order it. And should I be calling myself your best woman? Or your best person?"

"Nat, I love you. You can call yourself anything you want. But I'm not about to piss her off or irritate her while she's away this week by asking what you're supposed to wear, so let me get back to you."

As they pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot, Bradley realized it didn't bother him as much now that you and he would be getting married next year. It didn't matter. He could wait. As long as he was with you.

----------------------------

You were a mess of nerves as you woke up early on Sunday morning in the tiny barracks room on base in Annapolis. Everyone else from your team would be arriving later today while you were with your parents.

You got into your rental car with a smile. You managed to score a newer model year of the car you owned, just like you and Bradley had done when you got engaged in Virginia. Last night when you picked it up at the airport, you texted and emailed about twenty photos of it to him until he threatened to sell your car. You stopped since he did in fact currently have the only set of keys to your little pride and joy back home.

You made your way along familiar roads without the aid of your GPS, and soon you were pulling into the driveway of the house you grew up in. You let yourself inside and hugged both of your parents at the same time.

After the three of you ate the brunch your mom had made, she started asking about wedding plans.

"Mom, it's probably going to be next year at this point, because there's just not enough time. Next month is Thanksgiving, and you guys will be staying with us for the weekend. And then we'll be here for Christmas in December. And then for January, he's already threatening to take me somewhere for my birthday. So maybe in the spring at the earliest?"

Your mom sighed and sipped her coffee. "Whatever you and Bradley want is fine with us. But he told me he wanted to get married as soon as possible, and I think that's so sweet of him."

Your heart beat a little faster as you considered her words. "I know, mom. And I swear I'm working on it. I'm working on everything now. I actually thought maybe we could stop by one of the bridal shops today and look at dresses? If you wanted to?"

Coffee sloshed out of her mug as she abruptly stood. "I'll go get my car keys!"

As you rode in your mom's car with her, you couldn't help the guilt that washed over you. For months, you had been letting everybody down, including yourself. You'd left Bradley totally hanging when it came to any wedding plans at all. And your mom and dad, pretty much the only close family you and Bradley had now, just wanted to know what you were thinking.

So when your mom asked if it was okay if she picked out some dresses for you to try on, you told her she could, even though you were pretty sure that her idea of the perfect dress would not line up with yours. But she looked at you. She really looked at you, and she smiled. And you honestly felt like she understood what you wanted when you started trying on some of the things she had selected.

"Honey!" she gasped when you came out of the fitting room with a bright smile on your face.

"Mom, I love this one."

"Me too!"

Slowly, you ran your hands along the fabric and turned back and forth in front of the three way mirror. You posed while your mom snapped photos of you to send to Maria. The dress had lace, but not too much, and it cinched your waist and looked amazing. The soft shade of white would look perfect with your mother-in-law's veil. And you knew Bradley would love it.

"This is the one. You look like a bride. Like the cover of a bridal magazine came to life," you mom promised you with a nod.

It really was stunning for how simple it was. But it wasn't just the way it looked; you felt amazing in it. Like you never wanted to take it off. Like you could imagine yourself getting married anywhere in this dress. Like you wanted to become Mrs. Bradshaw in this dress, although you would most likely be hyphenating your name.

"Oh no," said the saleswoman. "That one's no longer available."

"What?!" you and your mom said in unison, turning to face her.

She winced and looked alarmed. "That dress has been discontinued. We can no longer order it. I'm so sorry, it should have been pulled from the floor."

You could feel tears stinging the backs of your eyes as you started to reach for the side zipper.

"Then we'll buy this one," your mom insisted, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

The saleswoman chewed on her lip. "It's been handled so much, I don't know if my manager will let me sell it at this point."

"Then I'll join you, and we can both speak with your manager," your mom told her. Then she turned to you and softly said, "If you want this dress, we will get this dress. Take it off and check over every inch of it, because there is no way they will let us return it."

You just swiped away your tears and nodded as your mom walked away.

"Holy shit," you gasped. Your mom was willing to do the 'I need to speak to your manager' routine to get this dress if you wanted it, and you hadn't even checked the price tag. As you slipped it down your arms, you saw that it was expensive. Like way more than you were planning on spending. But you loved it, so you decided to examine it just like your mom had instructed.

"You want it?" your mom asked, peeking inside the curtain as you stood there in your underwear. "And it looks okay?"

"Yes and yes."

"We're getting it for half off. Let's go before they change their minds."

Your eyes were still wide as your mom insisted on swiping her credit card, and the sales team told you for the seventh time that the dress could not be returned or exchanged.

"I have a wedding dress," you whispered over and over again in the car as your mom drove like a giddy banshee back to the house.

"Yes, and you also have a groom. And he said something about confetti cake the other day? So just a few more things, and I'd say you have a whole wedding."

You mom wasn't wrong. And instead of feeling nervous, you smiled.

------------------------------

After dinner, you hugged and kissed your parents, and then you carried your wedding dress out to your rental car. You managed to fit it into one of your dad's garment bags to get it back to San Diego. And you supposed you would have to sneak it into your closet so Bradley didn't see it. But at least your mom managed to be cool about it when the three of you had facetimed him and Tramp before dinner.

Now you were headed into the city. And your nerves were kicking in again. Honestly you felt more nervous about this than you did about your upcoming presentation, because at least you were prepared for anything related to your job. This was something brand new that you'd never done before.

"Caleb!" You gave him an enormous hug. "I can't believe I haven't seen you since Christmas!"

"And I can't believe I'm about to give you a tattoo," he said with a booming laugh.

"As if I would ever go to anyone else," you told him with a grin that turned into a grimace. "I am actually really nervous now. I wasn't this nervous until I got here."

He nodded knowingly as he flipped the shop sign to read Closed and locked the door. "Nothing to be scared about, I promise. Have I ever led you wrong?"

You snorted out a laugh and followed him further past the front desk. "Do I really need to mention senior week?"

He pressed his lips together to stifle his laughter as he led you into a smaller room. "Mooning Principal Danbury was fun!"

"You're right," you told him. "You're always right. I trust you. Tattoo me."

"You still want the same design you emailed to me? The bird thing?"

As your lips curled into a smile that felt like it would never stop growing, you nodded and said, "Yes. The Rooster."

--------------------------

A tattoo!!!! Ahhh!!! More about that in the next chapter. Should I post a photo of what she's getting?

PART 8

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mostlymaudlin · 1 year

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i made a joke on twitter that someone should write a crack fic that opens with Andrew riding the horse in TKM and he’s like “bet you’re wondering how i ended up here.”

and well. then this happened:

You’re probably wondering how I ended up here.

A horseback ride in the Blue Ridge mountains sounds idyllic, if you’re the kind of person that takes vacations straight out of the free tourist brochures at gas stations. I am not that person.

In fact, I had never been on any vacation before this week. If I were to take a vacation of my choosing, I would absolutely not be doing an activity that requires me to activate my core while breathing air that smells like animal shit.

Yet here I am. Sitting on a horse double my height, following a group of people I don’t even particularly like down a stinky, too-green path through the woods.

You might ask, why did you put yourself in this situation? It’s a good question, and I fear I have the worst answer of all:

There’s this guy.

I know, I know, how cliche. If it helps, I am not prone to them: I’m an orphan but not a Chosen One. I’m a college athlete who couldn’t care less about winning. I’m a twin but I’m nothing like my brother.

The boy problems, though? I’ve got ‘em. And oh, do I know how to pick ‘em.

Neil’s horse ambles down the wide path next to mine. The man himself is slumped forward in his saddle, reins held loosely in his bandaged hands. Neil has the misfortune of being very murder-able, so the bandages are a more common part of his whole look than one would hope.

This most recent bout of “almost getting killed” was particularly… vexing. (We don’t need to go into detail. All you need to know is that I didn’t handle it well.) Neil is moving on, though. He’s taking in the scenery, and his expression befits a tourist brochure even if the rest of him screams, “I should probably still be in a hospital.” When he catches me looking his lips curve into a small smile, and Reader, it is imperative that you understand how passionately I hate him.

“This is cool,” Neil says.

“Well, as long as you’re enjoying it,” my cousin grumbles from behind us. Nicky enjoys nature about as much as I do. I shoot him a look, and he mimes zipping his mouth shut.

Neil only shrugs, leaning further against the neck of his horse. I’m not sure how he’s awake. In the last four nights, he’s slept in a hospital, on a cot in an FBI conference room, on a dorm room floor, and then finally one night in a real bed in the luxurious “cabin” our teammates are renting. Minus the hospital, I’ve dealt with the same sleeping arrangements (yes, including the giant fluffy bed, no, we will not make a big deal of it). Even without the copious injuries, I do not have why don’t we go horseback riding? energy. But somehow Neil, with his half-melted face and arms, has giddied up to come smile at me and the sky and the trees.

This brings me to my point: I’m in deep. I’m so fucked. This morning, I would have told you that you’d never catch me in touching range of a horse. But for twelve hours, I thought Neil Josten might be dead; if he’s going to stand in front of me, saying he wants to go horseback riding, then yeah, every person on this goddamn team is going to get on a goddamn horse unless they want me to gut them.

My thighs are so sore and itchy. I’m on a horse that smells worse than my gear bag, swatting away flies and dodging low branches. I genuinely hate the present moment. It’s my fault, I know: these are the perils of letting ourselves fall for stupid ass men. These are the perils of getting attached to anyone at all.

But put yourself in my shoes. Really visualize it — they are cowboy boots with honest to god spurs, and I was forced to pay money to rent them.

Now ask yourself: Did I really have any other choice?

now on ao3!

#this is crack BUT #watch out for the feelings #I was unable to escape this scenes proximity to baltimore lol #THE WOUNDS ARE QUITE LITERALLY VERY FRESH #aftg #aftg fic #my writing

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ecneremili · 5 months

Text

Hello all!! This post is dedicated to my newly started fanfic that I have been preparing for the past several months. It can be found on Wattpad on my profile, but you can just click here .

Down below, I will add one random chapter of the fic, just so you can read a little bit of it. But, of course, I would appreciate it if you could go and support my full work :).

Pairing: Spencer x fem!oc

Warnings: mentions of crime, crime scenes, fluff, a little bit of swearing here and there. no use of y/n, the oc has her own name!

Content: The bau is called in for another case. Spencer and OC have feelings for each other but don't want to accept it, even if it's horrifically obvious. After the unsettling case, Spencer tries to calm OC and help her relax her mind.

Word Count: 3.6k

PLEASE KNOW THAT I NAMED THE OC SINCE HER NAME IS USED IN THE FANFIC. Harper White :)

"Holy shit, what did you do?" my mouth fell open at the sight of him. Not him. His hair. Or... well... the lack of it.

"What do you mean?" Spencer looked confused as he sat at his desk.

"Where are the curls? Where did they go?" Garcia came rushing in after my loud gasp.

"Did you join a boy band?" Hotch walked by, his eyes stuck to the obviousness in the room.

"No, what the hell is wrong with you, I got a haircut!" Now he just asked bluntly.

"You look like a twelve-year-old." I leaned onto my desk that was opposite of him, making direct eye contact with him.

"Is it that bad?" he brushed his hair with his fingers. His hands.

"No, Spence!" I felt bad now. "Jokes aside, I actually think you look... cute." I smiled slightly, trying to compliment him. "I think we were all just very used to your curls. I even sometimes imagined you with tied up hair, maybe a bun?" I looked over at Emily.

"Holy shit, do you know how many girls you could pull with that look?" she said excitedly.

"Not that pretty boy would want anyone aside our princess here." Derek came into the office holding his coffee and giving me the look I knew all too well.

"Fuck you." I spat at him with a grin, watching him as he passed by and sitting down at his desk.

"You know you love me." he teased as he sat down behind me.

"Hey, guys, we got a new one." JJ called and like on queue, we all got up and made our way to the conference room.

"Harp, did you really mean it?" Spencer stopped me.

He stopped me by taking my hand. I turned around to face him, and he had this genuine look on his face.

"Spence, we were just joking. You look really good. I like this new boyish look." I said and drove my hand through his now short hair, still the front pieces were. "Change can be good sometimes."

Now, I don't know what came over me, but, without hesitation, I lowered my hand down to the tip of his tie and pulled him by it to get him down to my height and just placed a small peck on his cheek. I think he was surprised as I was because we just looked at each other. I smiled and quickly turned on my heel and continued walking to the conference room, even though I could hardly feel my legs.

We entered, he came in after me and we sat down around the table, waiting for the briefing. I opened the case file that was presented in front of me and looked at the young woman. She couldn't have been much younger than me. In my few years that I've worked here, I often find female victims to be my age. The "mid to late 20s" is a phrase I get shivery from. Brunettes, pretty, young, successful...

"I saw that." Emily's quiet voice snapped me back inti the room.

"Sorry, what?" I looked up from the papers.

"That little stunt just now. I saw that." she smirked, and it hit me what she was talking about.

"Oh, God. Emily!" I tried to brush it off. "Don't make a big deal out of this."

"What's a big deal?" Rossi came in and passed the two of us, taking his seat next to Emily.

"I just witnessed the first ever White x Reid cheek kiss." she made that lovey dovey sound she always does. I rolled my eyes, but Rossi got into character as he looked at Emily, almost excited.

"You're kidding?" he waited before Emily shook her head 'no'. "About time. I was getting sick of those random weird hugs they exchanged."

"I get you, I had the urge to push them together the other day." Derek jumped in.

"I don't want to hear it from you, shit-face." I pointed my finger at him.

They all laughed, but Spencer just smiled to himself. His cheeks took up the bright pink color. For years now, everyone is telling us that it's obvious we like each other, but we just say that it's not true. But it's deadly obvious. We just don't want to admit it. Nor to each other but maybe not to our selves either. The friendship we have is great. Who would want to ruin something like that? Why risk losing someone like Spencer over a stupid crush.

It's just a crush.

"Okay, so we got a woman in her min 20s, in Boise, Idaho. Reported missing. It looks like it's a pattern between these two other missing victims with the same M.O." JJ clicked her remote and showed us the pictures of two other women. "All three kidnaps are almost exactly two months apart. As much as we gathered, the women were reported missing only three days after they were abducted."

"So wait, this guy keeps them for almost three days? What does he do with them?" I asked.

"That's what we are hoping to find out after going to the scenes." Hotch said.

"It looks like they had their lives pretty straight up. All of them in relationships, secure jobs..." Derek flipped through the files as he talked.

"Normal suburban streets, gives the UnSub privacy." Rossi added.

"The victims are quite different, their appearances are. Different hair color, different body shape..." Spencer continued.

"No signs of struggle or forced entry in either of these cases." I pointed out.

"Women like this don't just vanish." Rossi spoke up again.

"Exactly, which is why Garcia did her digging magic and found out about their lives." JJ said and pointed to our tech girl.

"There isn't much to say but that it was obvious how the UnSub was doing it. Their online lives are extremely open and public. Online-life-sharing shit, sorry for the expression, but they were everywhere. Facebook, Twitter, you name it." she said as she pulled up a post from the last victim with the date three days prior to the abduction. "This was the last post from our numero uno, and it matches very much with the other posts on our other victims' wall. Going on a vacation, going on a business trip, but looking at the time stamps, they were posted a day before they went missing."

"The UnSub posted them?" Hotch realized.

"This is like a guide of 'how to know where I'm at if you want to find me' for serial killers. Social networking sites are a goddamn goldmine for this kind of information." I said, almost looking sadly at their posts. It was like a call-up for these kind of people.

"I agree. Especially these women, they posted everything, from what they were having for dinner to where they were going on dates." Spencer confirmed my thought.

"If the UnSub hacked into their accounts to post these, he probably knows around computers. He could be really smart." Emily said.

"He's also patient. Two months between each of these, then again he gets three days to do what he wants with them." Rossi looked back at the files.

"Which means that these women could already be dead. We need to find out what he does in those three days and get this son of a bitch before he can continue his work." Hotch stopped to look at us. "Wheels up in thirty."

***

I tried to reach up to the small space for my bag above my seat in the jet but struggled to get the bag inside. It didn't help that I was short, but the bag was very overpacked, and it almost fell on my head. I closed my eyes, expecting a thud on my head, but instead, I felt the relief of its weight on my hands. I looked up to see two hands holding the bag and Spencer standing next to me.

"You need help?" he asked, looking down at me.

"No?" I tried to save the little pride I had left.

"You sure about that?" he smirked, still looking down at me.

Still holding my hands up, head down, him holding my bag, I couldn't say 'yes'. "No?" the words came out almost like a squeal.

He giggled, and finally pushed the bag up into the small space and closed it. "What did you put in there? I only have a small bag for these kind of things."

"That's because you are a man, Spence. I, on the other hand, am a young woman who needs many things for a undefined period of time away from home." I dusted off my jacked, not that it was dusty, but I needed to look down because I could feel my cheeks burning up.

I didn't realize till now how close he was.

He smelt like coffee.

"Uh, listen about the thing this morning I didn't-" I started hoping this conversation could end quickly. But I guess he had other plans.

"Why did you do that?" he asked and looked down at me again.

I didn't have a choice but look back up at him. His hazel eyes were almost wide open, but he had a scent of mystery in them. Why did he want to know? "What do you mean?"

His gaze was going up and down from my eyes, then from one to the other. What was he looking at?

"Why did you do it?" he almost repeated his question.

I couldn't stop looking at him. I wanted to. I could feel shivers going down my spine.

Was he getting closer?

"I-uh... I don't know..." I almost whispered.

He was getting closer.

"I think you do." he whispered back, his hands in his pockets, but he was slowly, almost insensibly inching his head downwards to me.

I tried to back up, because I couldn't handle him being so close. But when I tried to back up, my knees met with the chairs and I fell down on them, him following me. A small yelp escaped my lips before I crashed with the cushions beneath me. After a second , I realized his hands were on the sides of my head and he was inches away from me. I stared blankly into his face, but his eyes were traveling again up and down my face. I guess my eyes copied his pattern and I realized what he was looking.

He was looking at my lips.

"I'm sorry I-" he started, finally. The silence was choking me.

"No, I-" I stuttered. "It's okay..."

"Here, let me help you." he said and pushed himself up. Holding the table with one hand, he reached with the other to pull me up. I guess he underestimated how light I was when he pulled me, making me fly up and bumping into his chest.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I-" I quickly apologized.

"No, this is on me and-" he stopped.

I looked up at him only to see him staring at something on my face. "What?"

"You, uh-" he stuttered. "Your lipstick got smudged a little."

Crap. "Oh, here?" I brushed on the tip of my lips.

"No, it's still there, just here." he tried pointing at his face, mirroring where the smudge was.

I wiped again. "Better?"

He made a frowning face. "No, it's- " he sighed, "You know what, let me just-"

Cue 'Careless whisper'.

He raised up his hand only to cup my chin with his long fingers. They were warm. His touch was warm. He swiped on the bottom line of my lips. My lower lip moved with his swipe and all I could do was feel the sensation of his touch. He looked back up at me, but even after he got rid of the smudge on my lips, he didn't move his hand. I don't think I wanted him to..

"Hey, sorry we're late, I forgot where I put my deodorant." Emily's voice made us both abruptly step back. The, now, lack of his touch left a weird cold on my face.

"I already told you, it's no big deal." Derek added as he came in with his bag behind her.

"Maybe for you, but we ladies need that. It's a necessity." JJ came in next.

"I got those natural scents. No need for those chemical ones." Derek laughed and placed his bag next to mine in the compartment above our seats.

"Ew..." I muttered after letting him take the window seat. "I'm not sure I want to sit next to you anymore."

"I'll spray perfume on him, so he smells like flowers." JJ joked, and the three of us laughed while Derek frowned.

"Hey, how did you get you bag up there?" he turned to me and asked, pointing above his head.

"I helped her, she was struggling with it since it was pretty heavy." Spencer said as he sat next to Emily opposite from us.

"That's it, pretty boy. You gotta be a gentleman." he mouthed those last words while swinging in his seat.

"You can really be a lot sometimes." Emily gave him a deathly glare, to which he only laughed more.

I, too, laughed. Rossi and Hotch came in and gave us the files to look over again while we fly. The plane soon took off. Looking down at the now familiar pictures, I wondered about their families and what waited for us when we arrive. I looked at Spencer through my eyebrows, only to catch him looking back at me. He quickly looked back down at his file, a small smile curving on his lips. I smiled to myself.

"How can someone be interested in this?" Rossi asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"Their social network walls. Who has the need to share these things with the world, just look at this. 'Having sushi for dinner. Yum.' 'My boss is making me stay in the office late again. Grr.'

We all laughed as he read those status updates. It was funny how people nowadays had the need to put their life out there.

"I think that's just it. The hope that someone out there cares about the things we do, that we do matter." Derek said after he stopped laughing.

"So our UnSub is finding these women on their online profiles. Can't we use that to find him?" Emily asked.

"The lead detective already tried going through their followers lists, they all check out." JJ answered her.

"Social networks can be extremely insecure. Recently, Facebook tried to update their privacy settings and in doing so made every profile viewable." Spencer said and pressed his lips together.

"Do you have a Facebook profile?" JJ asked me.

"God, no. I run away from social media." I replied. "But even if I did, my first status update would be 'Enjoying Rossi's special spaghetti dish. Yum.' " We all laughed again.

"This does tell us how he finds them, but not how he gets into their houses." Hotch said, bringing us back to the brutal reality of this situation.

"Maybe a key copy?" Rossi asked.

"Maybe, but look, the last victim had a home security installed. The code was entered at 1:56am, not only that, but he somehow went past her dog too." Spencer read from the files. "A German Shepard went missing the night that she did."

"This guy had to be in and out of the house before..." Derek said. "He builds up a rose so he gets in, gets familiar with the house and knows he can safely come back and kidnap them."

"What about unknown people you feel safe letting inside your home?" Rossi continued his thought. "Home repair guys, someone who volunteered to walk your dog?"

"The detective looked into that too, no one came close to being a killer." JJ added to our brainstorm.

"We need to go over everything ourselves. Morgan, Prentiss, start with the last abduction sight. The rest of you go over the women's lives, see if you can find anything. Start with family and friends on their social networking sites. If this is how the UnSub is finding them, maybe they are connected without even realizing it." Hotch gave the orders, we were only left to nod.

***

It was a twisted case. We lost another woman in the process. The bastard kept them in a freezer. A fucking freezer. Just because they had this specific face symmetry. Even after years working in this department, I still find myself questioning how can people be so wicked and evil. The worst part is the way we find them. We might not be like them but we sure as hell know to think like them. Does that make us that much different?

I stared at the endless sky outside my window. It was almost night-time, so watching the sun go down was majestic. The colorful clouds flew around, the sun slowly hid behind them. On the other hand, Derek was snoring on the small sofa in the back of the jet. Rossi and Hotch were reading something on the other part, JJ and Emily were sleeping in their chairs next to me. Spencer was sitting across from me reading one of his books, quickly shifting through the pages.

My mind was still foggy. I tried to clear my mind and think about anything else other than the twisted ways the human mind could work sometimes. I stood up, trying to reach for my bag up in the compartment above my seats. I tried to stretch up to it, but it was too high up.

I fucking hate being short.

"Do you need help?" Spencer asked quietly.

"If you don't mind. I just wanted to take out my headphones, I forgot to take them out earlier." I explained.

"No, it's no problem. Here-" he said and got up from his seat. He opened the small space and pulled out my bag. I took it from him and took my mp3 player and headphones before giving the bag back to him to put it back up. He closed the small space and sat back down in his seat. "You okay?" he asked while picking up his book.

"Yeah, why?" I looked at him, a bit weirded out by his question while I connected the headphones to the player and tried to find one of the songs that I use to calm down."

"It's just, most of the time that you listen to music on out flight back home is after a pretty traumatic case. Not just that but emotionally exhausting. Also, when the victims are similar to you, their age, their lives, they are almost identical to the life you have, and the worst part is that those groups of women are the most targeted. When you don't want to think, you play music. You try to zone out with it." he explained. "So, I guess that's why I'm asking if you're okay. I think you're not."

I looked at him, almost frozen. He said everything. What else was there to say? Sometimes, I hated that he could read me with such ease. I put the player and headphones beside me and lean on the table that separated us. "You're right. I'm not okay." I sigh and brush my face with my hands. They were cold. I support my head with my hands, fingers intertwined with each other. "What he said to Emily. It's still bugging me. You will never understand what I see when I look at them. But my followers do." I recited his words. "It was their faces, but why? What was so special about them?"

Spencer thought about my words. "Well, it could be multiple things. A reflection of himself, someone in his life, someone he wished to have or to be."

"But why? What if my face was similar to theirs? Would I be next?"

"Your face isn't like theirs."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No-no, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that your symmetry of your face isn't like the victims face. I didn't mean to say your face wasn't nice, I think your face is beautiful. Not beautiful, pretty, just- uh, good-looking is what I'm trying to say." he stuttered.

I smiled at his clumsy words. He's cheeks again started turning into a shade of pink. "I think your face is good-looking, too."

I took the player back into my hands to find a song that now I was determined to listen. It was in my head and I needed to listen to it. "What are you gonna listen to?" he asked.

"I have this song in my head, I think I'll start with it and then just go with shuffle. The playlist is good so I don't mind what comes after." I said, not looking up from the small screen.

"Really? What's the song?"

" '74-'75' "

"I don't think I heard it."

"Do you want to listen to it with me?" I asked, finally able to find the song and looking back up at him.

"You sure? I don't want to mess with your time listening to music that calms you."

"Of course, I'm sure. Come here." I patted the seat next to me.

He smiled and got up to sit next to me. I gave him one of the headphones. "Right." and I put in the left one. I started the song and looked up at him. The opening course was a guitar solo, which I always loved in songs. He smiled back at me, bobbing his head slightly in the rhythm. After that approvement, I relaxed my head on the cushion on the back of my seat, trying to relax. Maybe even sleep.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fem!oc #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid scenario #spencer x reader #Spotify

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 months

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Hey Sex Witch!

How did you get into Sex-Ed work? Is this only an online thing or your irl job?

Just curious! Thanks for all the advice and all the extra stuff!

god I fucking with this was my real job, but I've only gotten paid for a sex ed gig exactly one (1) time in almost ten years lmao.

which isn't to say I only do it online; I do a ton of irl work, too! right now I'm teaching classes for some kiddos at a local unitarian church and putting together a sexual health carnival at my day job. I've also presented at conferences, organized a sex educators' conference for the national lgbtq+ task force, and done a ton of other miscellaneous work wherever people will let me.

I got into it completely by accident, when I made a post during my freshman year of college sharing a text convo with my younger sister while she was going through her own high school sex ed class. people started sending me their own sex ed q's and Have Not Stopped.

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lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

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Pledge your Allegiance: Clandestine F*cks [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader] 18+

Part of the Clandestine F*cks Collection [link] A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (8) The morning after having rampant sex on Rogers car, there are consequences. Sexy consequences. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Dom! Loki. Language. Dirty talk. References to alcohol. Satchel! Steve. A hint of plot (still one-shot applicable).

Loki’s keen eyes scanned the table as every seat was slowly filled. Avengers traipsed listlessly through the doors of the conference room, each looking more bedraggled than the last. Sundays were the only day free from Captain Rogers accursed 7am meetings, allowing the team to let off some steam. But not this Sunday. “Good Morning, Agent” Loki waxed lightly as Natasha slid into the chair by his side, folding her arms on the table and lowering her head. “I never had you down as a morning person Laufeyson…” she mumbled, making a thumbs up as a cup of coffee was placed beside her shoulder. “Yeah, Laufeyson you look far too happy” Clint squinted as he reclined back in his chair with a groan. “I take it you didn’t have any fun last night...” he said, rubbing his temples. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that” Loki murmured under his breath as he watched you slip through the door and quickly take the seat opposite him, avoiding eye contact.

Was it really only fifteen minutes ago that had his face buried between your thighs? Fifteen short minutes since he had tasted the fresh tang of his cum inside your delicious centre? Since you had tugged his curls as you released yourself in his mouth? You had clearly tried to make yourself look presentable after Loki had gone ahead to avoid suspicion. You had failed, but thankfully, you were in excellent company. “Norns brother, what a night…” Thor sighed, collapsing to the chair to Loki’s side with sunglasses covering his eyes. “Barton introduced me to...what was that concoction?” “Jaegerbomb” Clint groaned quietly, eyes closed as he continued his temple massage. “Yes! Jaeger bombs, brother...oh, you would have loved it. What a night. Truly. Admittedly I did lose consciousness at one point but it’s not revels on Midgard without a little mischief, is it?” he lowered the sunglasses, shooting Loki a wink. Loki rolled his eyes; his gaze falling on you, anxiously doodling on a notepad. Stark sat beside you with no signs of life, his head hanging back and arms dangling from the chair. The corner of Loki’s mouth flickered. It was adorable when you were worried. But he would take care of it, surely you knew that. “Avengers.” Steve announced flatly, striding into the room and closing the door with a dramatic pause. Loki rolled his eyes again. The man was insufferable. There was a soft thump at the door. Steve released the handle from his grip, making a dishevelled Wanda fall inside the room with a graceless cry. He caught her with one arm, before she hastily made her way to sit beside you with muttered apologies.

Loki smiled. Y/N wasn’t lying about Wanda drinking most of that wine last night after all. “Avengers.” Steve repeated solemnly, pacing the head of the room, “It saddens my johns to report that last night there was a security incident in the basement garage.”

He paused, looking up at the dozen faces staring at him with vacant malice before continuing. “It seems that some person or persons unknown has…” he brought two fingers to his forehead, steeling himself, “vandalised Eleanor.” A roll of confusion bubbled across the room before Bucky spoke, his voice hoarse. “His car. He’s talking about the damn chevy.”

“That’s no way to speak about a lady, Buck...Eleanor and I have been through a lot.” Steve hissed as Bucky smoothed back his hair, eyes thrown to the ceiling, “You bought it three months ago, man…” Sam’s palms drew down his cheeks, pulling the skin before turning to Thor with despair, “Tell me I did not put on sweatpants for this” he said regretfully, as the blonde god chuckled, raising his travel mug to his lips. “My dear Wilson, I must admit I am still rather intoxicated, I’m finding all this most entertaining.” “Enough.” Steve slammed his fists on the table, earning several groans, “we’re not leaving this room until I find out who’s responsible.” “Me. I’m responsible. Can we go now?” All eyes fell on Tony with his hand half raised, his eyes squinting against the bright overhead lights. “So, why exactly are we here, Cap?” Nat said frankly, reluctantly leaning back with her arms folded. The captain took a breath, before continuing. “Someone strategically smeared yoghurt on Eleanor’s hood. All over that thing. Like it’s caked on there real good.” he spat, scanning the faces in front of him judgmentally. “Do you know how long it takes me to polish Eleanor off? Shine like that doesn’t come without some serious elbow grease lemme tell you”, he said, eyebrows arching menacingly. There was silence. “...and it was all sort of spread around and...urgh...guys. This is not ok. Yoghurt is for enjoying as a healthy snack, not for vandalism” Steve’s forehead creased, his whines falling on disbelieving ears. “Man, are you sure it was yogurt?” Sam said, reluctant amusement colouring his voice, “kinda sounds like someone used Eleanor as a fu-” Loki coughed softly, rising from his seat with fingers poised on the tabletop. He threw you a subtle glance as your eyes widened in alarm. “If I may be so bold, captain…” he purred diplomatically, “It seems that your distress may be caused by something as simple as a case of mistaken identity." He paused, as Rogers straightened; giving him the nod to continue. Loki returned the gesture politely, fixing his stare on the eyes of their leader. "You all know my brother is known to enjoy a fromage fraise on his daily stroll. Perhaps a mischievous animal procured the doubtless ill-disposed carton and made host of your 'Eleanor', to enjoy his feast. A racoon, perhaps...” he intonated as Thor nodded in agreement, looking around the room to garner support. Loki’s eyes fluttered to you, your cheeks burning as he towered above the others in his leathers. God, he was so handsome. No-one had any right to be so attractive at this time on a Sunday. It was a valiant effort from your lover, but not even Steve could possibly believe that a racoon was the culprit instead of the god mischief edging you to within an inch of sanity, blowing his load so heavily it caused all this. He said he’d taken care of it. Smug bastard. “And to your point, Wilson…” Loki turned, raising his eyebrows towards Sam, his irises flashing with warning, “I’m sure our esteemed captain knows the difference between yogurt and other gelatinous biological substances. Isn’t that right, Rogers?”

Rogers had no idea what he was talking about, but it sure sounded like he should nod. He nodded. “Excellent. Shall we?” Loki gestured to the door, a stampede of bodies following his unauthorised instruction as Steve huffed at the head of the table. “A racoon.” he muttered distractedly, “I shoulda known…”

The god watched as the group began to disperse back to bedrooms on various levels, disenchanted moans of farewell echoing around the high ceilings and shiny floors. “Nice work in there, RG.” Tony said hoarsely, smacking him on the shoulder by the elevator. “Mmm. Something to remember for my upcoming review, perhaps...” Loki murmured, as Stark nodded through a burp. “Listen, I’m pretty sure I’m about to hurl any moment. Hey, I might pay 'Eleanor' a visit…” Tony said smugly, before his eyes clouded over and he turned abruptly towards the bathrooms. Loki leant forward to press the elevator button, feeling warm skin brush lightly against his fingertips on the hand by his side. “Hello pet.” he murmured, staring up at the numbers slowly ticking down. “That was quite a play in there. Steve’s on the phone to pest control as we speak.” you muttered; eyes focused on the elevator numbers descent. The temptation was too much. Your gazes met, closed smiles spreading across your faces as you fought back laughter. The doors opened and Loki grabbed your hand, pulling you inside and pushing you gently against the wall. “Do you see the trouble you cause, darling?” he growled, running a hand down your neck, his thumb grazing your windpipe, “the poor captain will be busy polishing away for hours…” You giggled, stifled as Loki’s frame enveloped you; pushing your jaw up with both hands to meet his ravenous kiss. “Loki…” you gasped, “it’s only been thirty minutes, you can’t be serious you-”

He cut you off as his tongue pressed further into your mouth, the faint taste of your cum still on his lips, “I’m deadly serious, lovely one. And I know just where we can go. The one place I know for sure we won’t be witnessed.” He pressed another button and in moments, you had arrived. You stepped out into the warm morning light flooding through the windows of the bar, sunlight dazzling off empty bottles neatly stacked on the marble counter. You walked to the window, peering out at the skyline as the pink sunrise blanketed the gleaming towers of Manhattan. “Are you still feeling sentimental?” Loki whispered, warm breath fanning your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you back against him, the feeling of his thick leather tunic against your tight t-shirt maddeningly sexual. Your hips gyrated, pushing your ass wantonly back to his frame. A low hum rumbled behind you. It had begun. “So which are you now, darling? My sentimental-kitten, or my little god-slut?” You moaned at the vibration of his dirty whispers in your ear. How did he have such a power over you? It was obscene. “Is it possible to be sentimental as you fuck me against this window?” you said coyly, enjoying his look of surprise from the corner of your eye. “I mean...it’s possible, I’m sure” he purred thoughtfully, brushing your hair to the side. “But I fear I have stumbled across you here in this secluded corner of enemy lines for a different purpose...”

You shivered as his fingers trailed the skin of your neck, feeling a chill as your clothes vanished beneath his magical touch. His voice had darkened, sensing your compliance. It was going to be one of those kind of fucks. “What were you thinking about in that conference room hmm?” Loki circled you, gently taking your wrist and placing it against the glass. “Were you thinking of how easily I could expose us? Did you want me to, pet?” his fingers ran down your ribs, ghosting over your breast. Your breath hitched as his finger pinched your nipple, a sharp moan squeezing from your lips. “Did you wish me to reveal how you swallowed my thick cock on the very spot where Natasha laid her pretty head? How you sucked me until I spilled myself down that delicious throat…” his fingers massaged your collarbone from behind as your head dropped forward, before he appeared at your side, one finger under your chin. “If I slip my fingers between those tempting thighs, will I find a fresh slick of needy juices to play with?” Loki sneered with amusement, tracing the lines of your ass with his finger. “Did you want to rip this tunic from my body, were you thinking about the naughty god-slut duties you wished to fulfil?”

His voice was low, calm. The same, but different. You felt your breaths grow heavier as he paced a semi-circle around you with precision. “Did you crave for every one of those fools to bear witness to your loyalty to me, darling?” The question hung in the air as he raised your other arm by the wrist, placing it spread on the glass. “Yes...” you whispered. Loki didn’t let this side of him out to play often, but when he did; it was theatre. You thought of the significance of this room every time you were in it. How you’d heard he strode across the floor, sceptre in hand, an army at his back and the single-minded belief of domination in his altered heart. You’d seen the photographs, the hard glint in his eyes un-softened by trust or affection. The same look he was wearing now. And the same leathers. “Say my name” he muttered slowly, as he ran his hands down your back, over your waist. His fingers gripped your naked hips as he pulled your wet pussy back against the leather panel, brushed aside to expose his stiff cock. Thick boots met your ankles firmly, nudging them wider. The boots. You’d forgotten about the boots. Loki’s torso pressed to your back, bending to kiss your spine as you keened into him, “Say.my.name.” he growled. Your forearms collapsed against the glass as you moaned it again and again, feeling every inch of his hard length enter you slowly you as your lips praised him, begged for his attention. Loki. He groaned as he bottomed out, a sound akin to pain that told you he needed this. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the power. “Can you see all the people down there pet? Do you want them all to know whose slut you are?” he murmured, bringing a hand to rest above yours on the glass as he thrust effortlessly into you. You were edging forward, breath misting the clear surface as the street below hummed with morning traffic.

“Do you want the world to know you’re one god’s whore, little thing?” he spat, thrusts coming thick and fast as you felt the walls of your pussy tighten with every word he uttered. “You’re so good for me, so obedient. I think I’ll keep you. Would you like that?” You shuddered, words tumbling from your tongue as Loki of Asgard owned you completely against the glass. “Loki...I’ll obey you, anything you say I lo-...you own me, kneel for you Loki...always...my king...uhhhh” You heard him moan with approval behind you, a coming climax clenching unstoppably in the tops of your thighs as he pressed you fully against the glass. Your hands were sprawled to either side, grasping fruitlessly for purchase as his fingers played with your clit. A cheek slid against the cool surface with every harsh flick of his hips, the glass misting with every breath. “Come for me, plaything.” he snarled, the darkness of his voice making you weak against his leather-clad chest, “I want to feel your pretty cunt sing for me. Let me feel how ripe you are for my seed; how desperate you are to be ruled.” Your brow furrowed as you hit the plateau, gliding towards the precipice with New York traffic humming sixty-five floors below. Loki’s thrusts were erratic, his strangled voice laced with menace edging through heavy moans. “You pledged your allegiance, darling. Now prove it.” You came with a deep, broken moan of his name, the only word you could remember. Against the glass, you pushed back to the base of his solid length as he released a thunderous groan over your shoulder, riding you to the last. “Godddds...Y/N” he groaned, filling you one final time to the hilt as he jolted several times to a stop. The sound of your combined breaths filled the space, fogging the view. He slid his cock from your channel, spinning you around and cupping your face as your clothing gracefully re-appeared. A mildly apologetic smile flickered at his dimples, the warmth in his eyes returning. Your hand wrapped around the leather strap slung across his chest, pulling him towards you as your back hit the glass. Loki bent to kiss you, his soft tongue caressing yours; melting his heavenly lips into your skin against the backdrop of the city he had once tried to destroy. “Follow me, darling.” he whispered, stepping back. It was time to go. His chin was lowered, his eyes piercingly beautiful in the reflected pink skies as he observed you carefully, extending his hand. You would do anything for him, you realised. Anything he asked. Fuck.

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