lia

20. minors pls dni. reblogs !!

[dante-mightdie]

simon doesn’t really enjoy clubs or loud bars, but you like to go dancing and what kind of man would say no to their seeing their woman dress up all pretty and dance for them?

the image is so clear in my mind of him leaning back in his chair, thick thighs spread to accommodate the pretty thing stood between them. one paw firmly gripping your hip whilst you sway to music and the other gripping his drink tight

makes you hold your drink right inbetween your bodies so he can keep an eye on it as efficiently as possible whilst you just focus on having fun

simon doesn’t dance, but he loves to watch you dance. loves to grip your hips and spin you around, pulling your ass flush against his crotch so you grind against him as he eyes your figure with those steely eyes of his

do you guys see the vision? please tell me you see the vision

when you’re facing him, arms slung around his neck as you yap in his ear about how much you love this song he knows, he requested it whilst you were in the bathroom because he knew you’d spend 15 minutes just complimenting random women in there. you’ll tell him all about your new friends and instagram followers when you come trotting out to find him waiting for you with an outstretched hand and another drink

feeling his big hands sliding up and down your sides, over the small of your back before shamelessly groping your ass in front of everyone with no shame. yanking the bottom of your dress down when he feels it ride up in view of unwanted stares, giving your ass a gentle pat to signal that he’s got you taken care of

sigh when will it be my turn

[dante-mightdie]

something about mean old bastard price and his sweet new assistant who just wants his approval so bad but can never seem to get a positive response from him

your sweet gestures, like using your own money to buy him fancy coffee instead of the generic brand on base are only met with an unappreciative grunt followed with, “fuckin’ waste of money. tastes exactly the same.”

barely looks up at you when you drop folders on his desk, only nudges his empty cup towards you. a silent way of commanding you to make yourself useful

until one day when you catch him shameless checking out your ass in the new skirt you bought, his usual grunting response actually seems to be out of approval for once. doesn’t even acknowledge your eyes watching him as he rakes his own down your legs before adjusting himself in his trousers and going back to his paperwork

[dante-mightdie]

so let me share something with you guys for a second

(nsfw)

ghost is hot, right? we all know that. picture him always having someone sneaking out his room during unsocial able hours, shushes and clattering of buckles hitting the floor as his latest hookup creeps back down the halls to the cold barracks

and you, the awkward recruit with a fat crush on your lieutenant who envys every person who shamelessly shoots their shot with him and succeeds. letting him make a mess out of them for one night only

and it is always one night only

no same person has ever left his room twice, nothing more than a cheap hookup to him. you know you wouldn’t be any different, shown the door before you can even get your cargos zipped back up but if it meant at least one night with simon riley, you really didn’t care

but when it’s finally your turn? when you finally drink up enough courage to speak to the brooding man in the corner nursing his own drink in the corner of the bar, it turns out he didn’t even know your name

but that’s okay, it’s not like he was gonna be your future husband anyway so you power through. pull out all the charisma you have stored away for moments like this and you soon find yourself back in his room, making a complete fool of yourself

struggling to unbuckle his belt, biting down too hard on his lip during the, quite frankly, terrible make-out session that led up to your current situation, responding to his dirty talk with blinded stutters

and when he finally pulls out his cock? you’re too nervous to relax, and it doesn’t fit. before he can give you some half-assed ‘s’alright, love. another time, yeah?’, you’re shoving him off and rushing out his room before you can even get yourself fully-dressed

for weeks, you avoid him. at least, that’s what he calls it. you didn’t consider it avoidance under the assumption that he had no intentions of pursuing you again

simon was under the same assumption, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every hook-up leading up to you was a performance, an act he completed as some odd way of reminding himself that he was still, in fact, human

your heated cheeks and scrunched nose every time you fumbled was strangely refreshing to simon, a friendly reminder that not everything needed to be so serious, so professional. maybe the humanising act could be an experience instead, he thinks as he reaches for his phone

that night had been keeping you up for weeks, replaying every stupid way you messed up the thing you had been thinking about since you laid eyes on simon

and then your phone pings. from an unknown number.

‘price is off base. come to my room and I’ll make it fit this time.’

[psychickiss]

smile!

— saiki kusuo x reader (gn, 2nd pov)

— summary: Helping out Saiki has its perks—example, he smiles for a picture with you on what would look like a date to outsiders.

— notes: this was an old fic i posted from june! edited it a little and finally remembered to reup here :-)

— things: hmmmm i guess the reader's relationship with saiki is kind of romantic? but the overall dialogue and stuff is platonic :-)

— masterlist | request form

When Saiki couldn’t go to Toritsuka for help, he’d approach you.

You weren’t explicitly aware of his powers, but you’ve had your suspicions. Though, it was something you never brought up in conversation with Saiki.

Whenever you do help Saiki out, you assure him that he isn’t in debt to you. This results in Saiki going out of his way to silently pay you back. He knows your words are true, but he wasn’t okay with a good deed going unrewarded.

Additionally, you were okay with doing just about anything. Help him stay away from the sports festival? Sure, you hated it too. Join the Occult club so there’s a not-so-annoying familiar face? Why not? The club seemed like it wouldn’t be too much work.

Talk to a guy from another class for Saiki? Okay.

You weren’t the best at starting a conversation, and neither was Satou Hiroshi. Why Saiki wants to know his interests, you didn’t bother asking. It wasn’t your business.

Opening a conversation with Satou wasn’t hard at all—you figured you could just lie on the spot. “Hi, Satou. Truth be told, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I want to make friends from every section, and I thought I’d talk to you.”

Satou looks up at you, surprised. “Me? But, I’m not as interesting as the other guys here... Like Toritsuka–”

You abruptly shake your head. “I’ve interacted enough with him. I’m good. But, you... You just have a calming presence, you know? Puts people at ease.”

Saiki, from afar, listens in on your conversation. You had suggested to be on call with him as you made conversation with Satou.

Listening in on your conversation with Satou was something Saiki could do without the help of technology, but you didn’t know that, so Saiki agreed. This made you one of the really few people in Saiki’s phone contacts.

You pull an empty chair near Satou and sit on it. “So, tell me, what do you like? Any favorite bands, drinks, stuff like that?”

Satou happily answers you. “One OK Rock! I love their songs! Ah, I drink a lot of peach tea, too.”

You smile at Satou. “Oh, that’s nice. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I like to read.”

You nod. Average hobby. I like to read too. Everyone likes reading to a certain degree. You then ask him, “Oh? What kind of stuff do you read?”

Satou hums. “Well, I read all kinds of books. I like to pick up a copy of Weekly Jump on Fridays; kind of a reward for getting through the week.”

“That’s so interesting...! Would you want to walk home with me later? That way, we could talk more.” You put your hand in your pocket, checking to see if your phone was still there. You proceed to stand up from the chair and put it back in its place.

Satou awkwardly laughs in response. “I’m sorry, but I have a few errands to do after school, I wouldn’t want to drag you around with me. Maybe some other time.”

You laugh back. “It’s alright. There’s no need for you to apologize! I’ll be on my way now. Good luck with class, Satou.”

“Thank you, you too.” Satou waves before walking away.

You take out your phone and hold it close to your ear. “So? Is that all?”

Saiki hums. “Yes. Thank you.”

“How are you going to get this week’s Jump? We aren’t allowed to leave schoolgrounds until classes are over.”

Saiki answers you, “I have my ways.”

You furrow your brows. “Alright... Why do you want to hang out with him, anyway? No offense, but he’s kind of... bland.”

“That’s exactly why I want to talk to him. Also, we can stop the call. I can see you walking towards me.”

You sigh and end the call, continuing your conversation with Saiki face-to-face. “Alright... And you’re sure he’ll talk to you?”

Saiki shrugs.

You reply flatly, “That’s reassuring. I’ll be at Café Mami if things go well, or not. The usual booth. I’ll just text you.”

I could use clairvoyance to find you, but that works.

...

You enter Café Mami, alone for the time being, and look for an empty booth. You spot one and head straight to it, setting your bag down. You text Saiki.

You:

Do you want coffee jelly?

Saiki:

👍🏼

You:

How’s it going with Satou?

Saiki:

I’m waiting for him by the gate. I have a copy of this week’s Jump with me, and I bought peach tea from the cafeteria.

You:

Okay. This means you’ll be going to Café Mami though, right?

Saiki:

I’m just going for the coffee jelly.

You smile at his message before closing your phone. Keep telling yourself that, Saiki.

The manager approaches you and takes your order; you order something for yourself, and two cups of coffee jelly for Saiki. One for him to eat here, and...

“The other coffee jelly is to-go, thank you.”

You open your phone again and search up the band Satou mentiond, One OK Rock. You rummage your bag for your earphones, but to your dismay, you couldn’t find it.

You quietly sigh to yourself. I guess... I’ll listen with my phone really close to my ear. God, I hope no one hears.

You choose a song and pleasantly listen to it. This actually isn’t so bad. Might add this to my playlist– the song stops. You check the notification.

Saiki:

Hello. I am on my way there.

You:

Take care. ♡

You see Saiki enter Café Mami, and your eyes dart towards the earphones he’s wearing. You point at it. “Those are mine! Where did you get those?”

Saiki sits down as he answers you, “Your bag.”

“You didn’t ask...!”

The manager approaches you two. “Here’s your order. The coffee jelly to-go will be served shortly.”

Saiki looks at you, confused about that last sentence.

“Ah, I ordered a second one for you to enjoy at home.”

Saiki’s eyes sparkle at your words.

You bring your order closer to you. “So, how did things go with Satou?”

Saiki slumps his shoulders and dejectedly hands you back your earphones. “I’ll be taking both coffee jellies to-go, thanks.”

Your voice was riddled with panic, “Huh–?! No, don’t go! Is it that bad?”

“He didn’t talk to me.”

You laugh. “That’s it? Did you even try to talk to him? You’re not the most chatty person I know.”

Saiki nods. “I had everything he liked; Weekly Jump, peach tea, and I was listening to One OK Rock. I even smiled at him.”

You hold back your laughter, you didn’t want Saiki to feel worse than he already did. “Maybe... Maybe he didn’t talk to you because he knew you stole my earphones.”

Irritated, Saiki replies, “That is totally unrelated”

You shrug. “Yeah.” You decide to tease him, “Maybe your smile was weird. Off-putting. I mean, you don’t smile a lot.”

Saiki shakes his head. “My smile wasn’t weird.”

“I’ll have to see for myself.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

Saiki doesn’t reply to your comment, opting to finally eat the coffee jelly in front of him.

“Here’s the coffee jelly to-go. Your order’s complete. Thank you!”

You smile at the waiter and gently push the paper bag with the coffee jelly inside towards Saiki.

Hm... Maybe if he smiled at Satou like that, then they’d be hanging out like this. Ah, then I wouldn’t be able to see Saiki so happy. Perhaps I’ll be selfish, just this once.

Saiki thought to himself as he ate the coffee jelly. For someone who’s had their suspicions about my powers, you sure think rather shamelessly. You’ve done a lot for me, so I’ll let you have this.

Saiki finishes his coffee jelly. “Take out your phone.”

You do as told, although clueless to Saiki’s intentions. “Okay...?”

“I’ll show you the smile I gave to Satou.”

You move over in your seat so Saiki could sit beside you. He takes the hint and walks over to you.

You two smile and you snap a picture, the smile on your face still there as you examine it. Saiki returns to his seat.

You two were smiling, but you were the only one looking at the camera. You look up from your phone, then at Saiki. “Why were you looking at me?”

He’d then respond, “I wasn’t ready.” You looked happy.

[horrorhot-line]

drapetomani

(n). an overwhelming desire to run away

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/female! reader

➵ word count: 3.9k

➵ genre: smut, just smut (slight angst?)

➵ warnings: public sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, risky situations

➵ summary: for the first time in all his teenage years, saiki gets morning wood. to his disdain, he realises every time he’s near you, you make it even worse. Or, saiki’s acting weird and you try to get to the bottom of it- things don’t go as planned. you take each other’s virginity.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

➵previous part - fika

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

Keep reading

[horrorhot-line]

not to be nasty on main but I keep thinking abt Saiki getting head for the first time. I Can imagine him being annoyed at constant begging to let u give him head but when h actually do he’s so close to making the ceiling explode from the house hehe

not to add to the nastiness but

(warning nsfw ahead, minors dni)

it takes a while to convince him, but when he realises you're not going to stop asking, he decides it's easier to give in.

saiki is the type of guy to think he can handle head, it's no big deal, and he won't give you the satisfaction of knowing he's nervous and slightly excited when you kneel in between his legs and start undoing the knot on his drawstrings. he doesn't need to make it obvious though, cause he's hard, twitching and his tip is an angry shade of red because that's just the effect you have on him.

he's ready to stop you and tell you it won't work on him, the words on the tip of his tongue as you lube him up with spit, stroking his shaft slowly before opening your mouth and taking as much of him as you can in your mouth until the top of your nose meets his pelvis. he doesn't expect you to be good at it so when you don't wait for a second0 hollowing out your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his length until you feel your gag reflex about to activate, taking that chance to take all of him, his tip knocking against the back of your throat- he swears he sees white.

he can't keep his cool expression and calm demeanour up for long no matter how hard he tries, throwing his head back as you suck on his tip before licking a line up his dick. he doesn't realise how his mind goes blank and how he can only focus on how warm your mouth is until he gets so lost in the feeling that he grabs the back of your head to force himself down your throat, and the look you give him, eyes wide and pupils blown out as he fucks your throat, tears welling up in your eyelashes at how rough he's being.

he'll pull you off his dick, forcing your head back so he can get a good look at your fucked out expression, drool on your chin and a thin string of saliva connecting from his tip to your tongue, only to smirk at how pretty you look when you're all ruined. he doesn't miss your loud thoughts, knowing full well you're turned on with how he enjoys using your mouth to get himself off, and his jaw will twitch as he tries to keep himself in check, fully aware that he'll end up losing control over his powers with how hard you're trying to get a reaction out of him.

you're gonna be the death of him, he swears.

[horrorhot-line]

general masterlist

last updated: 04/02/24

➵ requests are open. send one, if you want!

➵ i do both nsfw & sfw (series, oneshots and headcannons)

➵ if you send in a request and i haven’t responded, don’t worry. i most likely have it, i just have other stuff i’m working on. i will reply once i’ve completed your request!

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the disastrous life of saiki k

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➵ the tumblr divider i’ve used above are from @writeyourmindaway​

[tojisun]

hhnngrf i know it's been done before already but thinking about pornstar!reader today :(

you had always been faking your moans while shooting but on the day that you were filming with pornstar!simon, the director had to stop the shoot because you just, well, you sounded different.

you don't sound the way you always do—whining, mewling, your moans reverberating from the base of your throat. you used to even croon, stuttered words slipping from your kiss-swollen lips as you sang how good everything felt.

instead all they heard from you today were the quiet rasps of your gasps, hitched breaths, and warbled whimpers that barely got picked up by the mic.

were you sick? did you need to take a break?

of course not.

you haven't felt so good in a while now, if not for ghost. his cock was big, if not short, but it filled you up so well that it rendered you speechless. he was hitting everything, stroking everywhere. ghost was the first to hold you down and fuck you deeply; the first to stuff all of his cock and make you feel every stretch, every thrust. pleasure hummed underneath your skin, spasming along your synapses until your brain was fried in your delirium.

others were able to coax your orgasm with their fingers or their tongues, sure, but ghost had been the first in a while to make you cum just with his cock.

"christ," his voice rumbles somewhere behind you. you startle, whirling to look up at him—his eyes are dark, his lips tugged up in the faintest of smiles.

he pushes your hair away from your sweaty face.

"i knew you doctored y'r voice but who knew that you sound completely different when pleasured, huh?"

he's mocking you, you know, but your eyes stray past his gaze and flit towards his groin, your throat constricting at the sinful image his cock makes underneath a skimpy towel.

god, you want more.

"aren't you just an open book?" ghost trills, giddy. you glance at him again, brows furrowed in your confusion.

he chuckles and bends forward just enough to hover his lips above your ear. then, he whispers, "meet me in my trailer in ten. i need to know what else you've been fakin'."

he kisses your cheek goodbye, leaving you to feel warmth flood into your cheeks and raze through the plane of your spine.

fuck.

[dyns33]

Family honor

So Alfie x Y/N Shelby wife will be a little series now

There were several differences between a Gypsy wedding and a Jewish wedding.

The most obvious being that gypsy marriage was not recognized by anyone except gypsies.

But if it wasn't celebrated, you could walk past a priest, a rabbi, an imam or the fucking King himself, to live for years with the same person, under the same roof, with children, that would not have the slightest importance for the gypsies.

Alfie Solomons muttered several times that none of this was kosher, but he respected all the rites and traditions of Y/N's family. Even drinking alcohol, he who hated having a foggy mind.

"Already quite foggy the rest of the time, love. But if your savages of brothers insist…"

“The savages insist.” John said, giving him a whole bottle of whiskey.

“I can’t believe this asshole is going to become one of us.”

"Oh, Arthur, I'm touched that you accept me so quickly into your heart."

It took several people besides Tommy and Y/N to stop them from killing each other, when they were completely drunk.

Then they insisted on walking together in the horse field, the older Shelby brother ending up giving his blessing before falling asleep under a tree, making it clear that he would slit Alfie's throat if he did not treat his beloved little sister correctly.

The wandering jew left him to return with the others, who were dancing and singing. A perfect wedding, completely normal.

If he was offended when Y/N told him that the Jewish marriage was practically the same, he didn't show it, just made a strange sound with his nose.

There may have been less alcohol, and it was legally recognized, but the rest was a gathering of a lot of loud people, not speaking English, jumping around and congratulating them on their union.

Y/N, however, quickly noticed the biggest difference between gypsy marriage and Jewish marriage.

Although they had been a little surprised and worried by her choice of husband, her family had decided to give a chance to Alfie Solomons, whom they judged solely because of his actions. The rest didn't matter in the slightest.

With the Camden community, it wasn’t so simple.

“Your lovely wife is going to convert ?” an old woman asked, although it sounded more like an order than a question.

"Ah, frau Aldermann. It is true that I am such a pious man myself, it is a very important subject that my wife and I have talked about a lot. Isn't that right, treacle ?"

“Good, good.” sighed a man, patting his shoulder, not seeming to understand Alfie's sarcasm. "This is very important, especially for such an admired member. Perhaps your mother was of Jewish parentage ?"

She could have replied that she had not really known her mother, and therefore even less her family, but her husband saved her from this discussion, which he considered ridiculous, by inviting her to dance.

A true act of love, for him who hated dancing, in addition to suffering terribly because of his back.

It didn't take long for her entire family tree to be dissected in every way. The old harpies of Camden were like all the harpies of London.

The fact that she couldn't answer their question was almost a good thing. This mystery made it possible to say that if we could not verify that she was Jewish through her mother, we could not verify that she was not either. And everything always went through the mother.

The deplorable past of her father and the Shelby family could then have been forgotten.

The problem was mainly that her mother was not Mr. Arthur Shelby Sr. wife, which made Y/N a bastard. A gypsy bastard at that.

Even when she didn't understand the language, she guessed that people were talking about her. These looks and these laughter, she knew them well. Her brothers had suffered them when they were younger, before they used their fists to silence the ignorant and conquer Birmingham.

But she wasn't in Birmingham. Her brothers were not there, and it was her husband's kingdom.

Alfie wasn't the last to comment on gypsies.

"You know, I expected to have to sleep in a caravan for our honeymoon. It would have been terrible for my back, I don't know if Thomas took pity on us or if his petty posh side is to be thanked."

“They had a tent for us, but Finn threw up in it.”

"Fuck off, love. You're kidding me !"

“Then we would have danced naked around a fire asking the moon to give us happiness, health and above all a lot of fucking money.”

"… Yeah, you're totally kidding me, you little rascal." Alfie said, mock irritated, pulling her in for a kiss.

He didn't seem to notice that every little word spoken against her family and their traditions was beginning to weigh on her.

At least it was never completely mean when it was him. Almost innocent, full of prejudice and stupidity, but not crossing certain limits.

The rest of the community was not so kind. Many had not appreciated that the King of Camden, such a prized party, war hero, respected gangster, charming man, ended up with a girl like her. It must have been business, blackmail, or black magic.

There was no other possible explanation.

For several months, she decided to be the reasonable adult, remaining calm and polite, taking the blows as best she could. Tommy had taught her how to do it.

He had also taught her the pride of gypsies. Honor.

So there came a day when she was walking through the bakery, and some of the employees made a little joke about stealing and fortune telling, laughing like the idiots they were.

Normally, she would have ignored him. But Y/N was exhausted, and Polly's voice repeated in her head that no Shelby would ever allow themselves to be treated like this, so before they had time to react, she grabbed the hair of one of them, placing a knife to his throat.

"Tell me another joke about gypsies. Then I'll tell you a joke about Jews. Then I'll kill you."

The boy squealed, calling to his colleagues for help with his big, frightening eyes, but no one dared to move. Because they knew she would go faster. And even if she wasn't moving fast enough, she was Tommy Shelby's sister and Alfie Solomons' wife. Literally untouchable.

"Come on." she whispered in his ear. "Make me laugh. No ? No more jokes ? You're going to play the victim. It's funny, people who complain about being mistreated, then do exactly the same thing to others while thinking they're superior. You're all the same."

She didn't comment on the puddle under his legs, nor the little cry of panic when she released him.

Everyone stood still, watching her leave, and when she met Ollie's gaze, she knew she had just made a mistake. She only proved that she was indeed the savage they all described, the bad person.

Alfie probably wouldn't be happy when his right hand man told him what happened.

He did indeed seem to be in a terrible mood when she found him waiting for her in the living room, sunk into the sofa, indicating that his back was hurting badly, but that he would refuse to talk about it.

"Come, love, have a sit. Come on, sit down here."

Not wanting to act like a child, she remained silent as she took a seat in the chair he indicated to her.

This was obviously not what he expected, because he didn't speak either, staring at her intensely, hands crossed, displaying a small pout.

“Do you want to tell me what happened at the bakery today ?”

“Why ask if you already know ?”

“I would like your version.”

"I threatened to slit the throat of one of your workers and disrupted production. Do you want to spank me ?"

"Tempting. Why did you want to slit his throat ?"

“Unimportant.”

"Unimportant, uh ? Unimportant, love ? Because Ollie came to tell me that some guys were talking bad about me wife."

Groaning slightly, Alfie stood up just enough to push a piece of paper and pencil in her direction onto the table between them.

"Names."

“Alfie…”

"I want the names, treacle. I've already gone around the bakery telling everyone that insulting me wife and her family was insulting me, and I don't like being insulted. Names."

“You always make fun of gypsies.”

"Wrong." he retorted, holding up a finger as if that proved his point. "I do it when your brothers are around, because Thomas can be a little prick, and it's hilarious to see Arthur react like a mad dog. But I have nothing against gypsies. Lovely people. The proof, look at you. And look at me. The two most wonderful creatures our communities could spawn, right ?"

Despite all her strength, Y/N couldn't help but smile, which seemed to please her husband. He then placed his victorious finger on the paper, insisting on names.

If she had shown mercy by not cutting, this would not be the case with the wandering jew, king of Camden Town.

No one insulted his wife. No one looked at his wife badly, no one criticized her, no one tried to take away from her, no one thought of her with bad thoughts.

“Not even you ?” Y/N asked with a mischievous smile.

"Not at all. Now you brought up spanking. You brought it up first, love, not me."

“My brothers would be furious to hear that you beat me.”

"Don't tempt me, I can spread false rumors all the way to Birmingham just for the thrill of them all running here, and finding us…"

“You’re the one who deserves a spanking.”

"Ungrateful wife. Threatening me, under my own roof, when my back is killing me and I have just condemned half the city for the love of her."

The Shelbys never knew about their sister's difficult first months in Camden. Tommy noticed that he seemed to be treated with a little more respect when he walked the streets, but neither Y/N nor Alfie talked about what had happened before this outpouring of acceptance from the community.

On the other hand, Arthur noticed marks on his little sister's neck, and he tried to strangle Alfie, even after realizing that it wasn't what he thought, because it wasn't really better for him.

And Solomons reminding him that he was his brother-in-law didn't help at all.

[charliehoennam]

sweet stranger

A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading

Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.

You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.

The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.

You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.

Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.

Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.

Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.

After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.

The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.

The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.

Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.

You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.

Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.

The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.

It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.

"You must be Mr. Solomons."

"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."

His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.

"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."

"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.

Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.

Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.

"May I take your coat, love?"

"Yes, please."

You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavious decoration of the suite never fails to impress.

Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.

Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.

But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.

Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.

If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.

The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.

Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.

Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.

He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.

It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.

"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"

"Not often. Clouds the mind."

"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.

"Wine is my favorite."

"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."

Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.

You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.

After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.

You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.

No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.

As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.

"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"

"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."

It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.

"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."

With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.

"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.

The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.

You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.

"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."

Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.

"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."

He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.

You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.

A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.

"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."

He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.

You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.

"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.

"No, love. Just flesh."

"Fortunately."

Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.

Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.

"How is that, sir? More pressure?"

"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."

"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.

Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.

The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.

Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.

"Is this alright?" You whisper.

"More than alright."

"I can go lower if you'd like me to."

He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.

"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."

You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.

You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.

"Would you like me to touch you?"

You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.

You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.

Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.

As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.

The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.

"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.

He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.

"L-love, you feel so good."

You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.

"You're fucking beautiful, sir."

"Oh, you think so, yeah?"

You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.

"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.

He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.

"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"

His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.

"May I?"

You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.

His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.

"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.

The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.

You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.

Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.

The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.

"It's gonna be a long night."

[greatlydelirious]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞

Peaky Blinders x F!Reader

What [blank] Dicks Look Like Masterlist

summary: “An extremely detailed description of different Peaky Blinders dicks.” Hex Color Codes, predictions of exact measurements, what sex would be like; basically, I went crazy with it once again.

warnings: pure debauchery, very much my own opinion

Keep reading

[golden1u5t]

first timer | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: you’re taking spencer’s virginity and everything is just so much for him that he starts to cry. 

spencer's hand was wrapped around your wrist, not too tight as to where it would stop you from being able to pump your hand on his cock but also not too loose. tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as he whimpered and whined out your name.

it was his first time ever doing something like this with someone else and to him it felt better than when he did it alone, your hand felt better than his even though you were doing the same thing he would do. still, he hadn't felt so much pleasure in his life and it was so overwhelming to him, but in a good way. 

he liked the way the knot in his gut got tighter each time your hand dragged from the base of his cock to the tip, he liked the way his head spinned when you swiped your thumb over his sensitive tip, he liked the way he couldn't stop the tears from falling because of how good he felt.

you stared down at him with lustful eyes, your lips parted as you took in the sight of him so pathetic under you. you thought he looked so pretty like this, it was probably your new look on him.

"¡ can't- please, it feels so good! please, i wanna cum- wanna make a mess for you, please!" his words were slurred and broken apart by moans. you'd never heard him talk like that before, you didn't even think the word 'cum' was in his vocabulary.

you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face, it prided you that you could be the one to bring out this side of him when no one else can. really, he is still whiny and pathetic outside of the bedroom but this was a different kind of whiny and pathetic, a side that only you got to see.

watching him was making you uncomfortably wet, you could feel your arousal dampening your panties. you shifted your weight onto your knees and leaned over his body to press your lips against his. he tried to kiss you back the best he could but he couldn't keep up with you, he whined against your lips before you pulled away.

"shh, just look at me, baby." you placed your free hand on his cheek and gently wiped away his tears. it took him a moment but he eventually peeled his eyes open to look at you. "cum for me, spence. make a mess for me, baby."

you didn't have to tell him twice. spencer's hips jerked up as he started to fuck your fist, his hand instinctively tightening around your wrist and his eyes shut again. you swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock once more before his body stilled and ropes of cum spilled down his cock and your hand. you slowed your hand down and gave him a few lazy strokes before letting go of him completely.

[squadmuse]

NSFW ALPHABET

THE SPENCER REID EDITION

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Spencer loves post-coital cuddles so much. He’ll also give you a good massage, having read on the different techniques and memorised it all so he could give you some great aftercare if sore. Spencer also loves bubble baths - fight me on this.

B - Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s body)

Spencer isn’t the most confident about his body but he likes his hands, as he knows you do (you also love his taut ass too) and can do some wonder with those fingers especially. On you, well Spencer is tied between your breasts or your neck, the latter because he loves snuggling into the crook of it.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum basically…)

Spencer prefers cumming into a condom, unless you’re trying for a baby. He does however lose his mind when you suck him off and let him cum on your face.

D - Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Spencer is the king of phone sex, even though he is a known technophobe. He loves phoning you up from whatever city or state he is in and whispering the dirtiest of words to you…

E - Experience (how experienced are they, do they know what they are doing?)

Spencer isn’t that experienced, but he’s memorised the Kama Sutra and a lot of other NSFW material that he can have you experiencing mindblowing orgasms one after another.

F - Favourite Position (again, pretty self explanatory…)

Spencer is tied between doggy-style or cowgirl. He loves having access to your breasts and ass and hips.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous?)

Spencer can have the goofiest moments with you during sex and he isn’t against pulling a magic trick on you either. But he has moments where he’s determined to try out a new position or toy on you and he’s focused so much.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Spencer is somewhat groomed down there.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Are they romantic?)

Spencer is very romantic and affectionate. He’s never loved someone as much as he does you, nor has he ever been loved by someone like you do him… he is devoted to you and shows it wherever he can.

J - Jack Off (masturbation…)

It happens more so when Spencer is away from you and needy, or in the shower. He doesn’t like bothering you if you’re tired or asleep.

K - Kink (what are their kink/s?)

Spencer loves leaving marks on you and sometimes leaves numerous hickies across your body as he worships you. He loves doing role play with you too, whether it’s geeky or more sexy. Spencer also enjoys phone sex, you in lingerie and edging too. He has a slight breeding kink too.

L - Location (where are their favourite places to do the do?)

Spencer, while he is an FBI agent has a bucket list of places he wants to have sex with you at. Airplane bathroom, his university office or lecture hall… he’s got to try them all.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going?)

Spencer loves you in lingerie like so so much. He gets so hard so quickly if you tease him by showing the lace of your bra or silk thong or satin thigh-high stockings.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs?)

Spencer will never ever degrade you or hurt you, he never wants to see you cry or sore from him in the wrong way.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill etc)

Spencer is a fan of blowjobs, he can cum so quickly from your talented tongue. But he does love giving you orgasm after orgasm as he eats you out.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough, soft and sensual?)

A man of science, Spencer measure each other with skill and decisiveness that leaves you ruined whatever way it goes.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often etc.)

Oh Spencer loves a quickie! Sometimes you need him there and then or him for you, and each time he’s raring to go. Also with the unpredictable nature of his job, sometimes a quickie is all he has time for before flying off somewhere.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Spencer again is a master of facts and figures, the probabilities of getting caught or not… but that doesn’t mean he isn’t against getting a little risqué with you…

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

Spencer puts in a lot of foreplay and can go about two rounds of sex with you. He will hold off orgasming so he can have you cumming multiple times.

T - Toys (do they own toys, do they use toys? on a partner or themselves?)

Spencer isn’t experimental on himself but he loves trying new and different toys on you. He loves handcuffs and vibrators in particular.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Spencer loves to tease you nonstop, he has memorised every single thing that gets you bothered and he can read you like a book he knows inside out.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make etc?)

Spencer is so vocal! Dirty talk, groans and grunts amongst whispers of appreciation and random sexual facts.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

Spencer is surprisingly dominant in the bedroom.

X - X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thin, veiny and long just like his lean frame. Spencer is also circumcised too.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Considering his job, Spencer has a slightly above normal sex drive. He can’t get enough of you when he’s home with you, and as they say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Z - Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

Spencer usually waits to make sure you’re asleep and content before drifting off to sleep himself.

[021reid]

Please ? | Spencer Reid

summary: reader wants spencer to take her virginity.

CW: inexperienced!reader , shy-ish reader , reader gets came on , 18+ (if i’m missing anything lmk)

word count: 860 words

you and spencer have been dating for 4 months now. the last four months have been filled with date nights every sunday (when he wasn’t away) and endless flirting and teasing no matter what was happening around you guys.

but you were craving more.

you and spencer have had heated makeouts and even a little dry humping every now and then but nothing ever came out of it.

so now here you were sitting on spencer’s bed with a nervous look on your face.

“spence..can we talk?” you start regretting your words when you see him sit up with a look of concern and fear on his face.

“did i do something wrong honey?” it’s almost as if you can hear the gears shifting in his mind and you quickly shake your head to make them shut up.

“no i just…why won’t you have sex with me?” you notice the deep breath he takes and relief in his eyes.

“are you ready for sex?” it was no secret to spencer that you were inexperienced and you probably would run away if he even tried to unbutton your pants.

“i think? i don’t know i’m just really horny and i can’t keep cumming from just your thighs.” a smile appears on his face and he grabs your waist sitting you on his lap and whispering in your ear.

“well how about we fix that then baby?” you hold back a whimper and pull him in for a kiss, slowly moving back and fourth on his lap.

“can i take these off?” he puts a finger on the waistband of your shorts and you nod your head. he unbuttons your pants and slides them off you with a little of your help.

he can’t tear his eyes away from your white lacy panties with small bows on the sides.

“you’re so beautiful baby” he rubs your cunt through your panties and you swear you could cum from just that alone.

“fuck..spence i need more.” you kiss him again this time tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. you move down to his pants and unbutton them, pausing when you feel his print.

spencer slides down his pants more and takes out his cock.

your jaw dropped.

he had to be atleast 8 and a half inches and you were even debating that.

“can that fit in me?” you say still shocked and stunned by his size.

“we can make it fit honey.” he tugs at your shirt and you shake your head. your not ready to be fully naked yet and he understands.

“lay down for me baby.” you move to the other side of his bed and rest your head on the nearest pillow. he kisses your thighs and makes his way up to your cunt, kissing all around it only making you grow wetter and wetter.

“please spence i can’t wait anymore.” he laughs at your eagerness and pulls down your panties. he stares at you in awe which makes you close your legs and push him slightly.

“stop staring at me like that..” he kisses your cheek and pulls your panties off.

“you’re so pretty sweetheart. every part of you.” he rubs your heat and you moan with every movement. he inserts his pointer finger and curls it which causes you to moan and arch your back.

“fuck..put another one in please.” he inserts his middle finger and waits for you to calm down before he starts moving them both at a slow pace. you’re a moaning mess and you’ve never wanted to come so bad.

“fuck if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum.” he laughs and takes out his fingers which causes you to pout.

“i don’t want you to come yet baby” he reaches over for a condom and puts it on.

“tell me if you wanna stop okay baby?” you nod and moan when you feel him rub his tip over your heat.

“fuck please just put it in.” he slowly inserts every inch into you moaning between each inch just from how warm your heat is. all that fills the room is your heavy breathing.

once he bottoms out he starts to move slowly. you moan with every thrust and your hands find their way to his long curly hair slightly tugging at it.

“go faster please, i can handle it.” his movements speed up and you can feel your orgasm approaching. the sounds of his quiet whimpers and your skin slapping against eachother becomes louder with every thrust.

“i’m so close y/n” his legs start to shake under you and his movements get faster causing you to let out a loud moan and your back to arch off the bed as your orgasm hits you.

not long after you feel spencer’s cock twitch inside you and his movements start to slow.

you both sit there for about 10 minutes trying to catch your breath.

“that was really good” you say, slurring your words. he smiles and pulls out of you slowly, handing you a bottle of water from the nightstand.

“i love you so much y/n.” he pampers your face in kisses and you both giggle until you both fall asleep, happy and inlove.

i’m not good at writing smut so tell me how it is 🌚 don’t forget to check out my masterlist !

[minswriting]

18+ | nsfw | mdni | masturbation (m)

imagine spencer being so worked up because of you. you, his beautiful coworker that is so incredibly amazing. your smile is contagious, your personality is absolutely wonderful, and to top it all, you’re drop dead gorgeous. and today, when you came into the bureau wearing a pair of tight slacks and a blouse that revealed just enough, spencer knew he was done for.

every look you had given him, every smile, every word you spoke went directly to his cock. and usually, spencer had more than enough self control. but today most certainly wasn’t one of those days. he rushed to the bathroom, locking himself in the stall as he rushed to unbuckle his pants.

god he was so painfully hard.

spencer let out a shaky breath of relief when he pulled his pants down, allowing his cock to breathe. his length was red and angry, begging to be touched. the genius doctor licked his lips as he brought his right hand to his length, not bothering to tease himself as he began pumping himself hard and fast.

he couldn’t help but imagine you on your knees, looking up at him as his cock was in your mouth. your eyes glossy from his cock hitting the back of your throat and his fingers entangled in your hair. spencer wanted to fuck your mouth so bad.

he jerked himself off, putting his other hand on his mouth so that he didn’t let out any noises or moans. his eyes were closed in pleasure as he threw his head back. he thumbed the tip of his cock, causing his hips to jerk in his hand. and soon, with a loud gasp, he was cumming to the idea of cumming down your throat.

and when he finished, he took a moment to gather his breath, taking toilet paper to wipe off the cum on his hand. he pulled his pants back up, buckling his belt, before walking out of the stall to wash his hands. and soon, he was back at his desk with a smile on his face, as though absolutely nothing happened.

he took a glance at you while you glanced at him. and suddenly, the blood was rushing straight down to his cock as though he hadn’t just taken care of the problem.

[langdonfiles]

— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.

normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”

“answer the question, please.”

“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.

“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

“that’s not what i said–”

“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”

“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”

he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”

“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

lower blow.

hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

damn you for choosing wine.

hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

“just shut up and take your pants off.”

“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”

it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.

you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

“aaron?”

“yes, sweetheart?”

“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”

“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”

“bite me.”

“gladly.”

[pathologicalreid]

“bite me” “gladly”

RAH RAH RAH AARON HOTCHNER

lari u might make a hotch girly out of me 😭

[pathologicalreid]

gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.