Mau

Collecting point for all fanfic-y goodness (secondary)

[kaira-diaries]

Chamomile Tea:

warning: smut & fluff

pairing: fem!reader x gi-hun

summary: you make gi-hun some tea to share but things escalate(in a good way !!)

wc: 1.9k

a/n: so this is the first gi-hun story I’ve written and I am now expanding my Masterlist..yay!! That being said, I gotta get something off my chest. I literally feel in my soul that gi-hun is a boob man, yk? Like reallyyyyyy a boob man. Could just be me ahh but enjoy reading (be nice this is my first story for him)

->Masterlist<-

The white sheets clung to your skin, soft and warm, carrying the lingering scent of him as you moved through the dimly lit apartment. The air was thick with the remnants of shared breaths and whispered confessions, the memory of tangled limbs and urgent hands still fresh on your skin. As you stepped into the kitchen, the cool floor sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, a sharp contrast to the heat still pulsing through you.

Your lashes fluttered closed as you sank into the memory, the recollection of his touch still lingering like a ghost against your skin. Even now, you could still feel the weight of him, the way he fit against and inside of you like he had always belonged there, the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin as he lost himself between your thighs.

Your bare feet avoided the trail of discarded clothing—his shirt draped over a chair, your dress pooled carelessly near the doorway, a testament to the passion that had unfolded hours before. The reality of him, of this, had exceeded every secret yearning you had dared to entertain. He was more than just a fleeting fantasy—he had reached into the shadows of your soul and illuminated the spaces you had long left untouched.

The kettle on the stove began to hiss, its rising whistle cutting through the quiet hum of your thoughts. You reached for the teabags, watching as the water darkened, the scent of chamomile and honey curling into the air like a gentle embrace. You let it steep for a moment, the warmth seeping into your fingertips as you cradled the mugs, reluctant to break the spell of the night.

The soft whoosh of the white sheets whispered through the air as you stepped back into the bedroom, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting golden hues across the rumpled bed. Gi-hun sat propped against the headboard, his tousled hair falling over his forehead, his bare chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. The blanket pooled loosely around his waist, leaving little to the imagination.

His lips curled into a warm, lazy smile as his gaze found you, dark eyes tracing the curve of your body beneath the soft glow of the night. As you approached, his hands instinctively reached for you, but you moved with purpose, swinging your leg over his lap and settling comfortably atop him. The heat of his skin seeped through the thin fabric draped around you, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You pressed a warm cup into his hands, watching as he took it with a curious tilt of his head. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled deeply, his brows knitting together. "I don't think I've had this kind of tea before," he muttered, his voice scratchy with lingering traces of desire.

You tilted your head, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you raised your mug to his. The soft chime of ceramic meeting ceramic echoed in the quiet room, a delicate contrast to the warmth simmering between you. A knowing smile curled at your lips as you met his gaze, your voice a gentle tease.

"There's a first time for everything."

You watched as he brought the mug to his lips, his expression shifting the moment the warmth touched his tongue. His brows lifted slightly, a hum of satisfaction vibrating deep in his chest, the sound rich and pleased. The sight made your own curiosity stir, and you followed suit, lifting your cup and letting the soothing liquid cascade over your tongue before sliding smoothly down your throat. A quiet sigh escaped you, the heat pooling in your chest, comforting and familiar.

Gi-hun didn’t speak. He only watched—entranced. His dark eyes traced the delicate flutter of your lashes, the way your lips, soft and full, curved around the rim of the mug before parting ever so slightly to take another sip. The way your throat bobbed as you swallowed, the soft breath you exhaled afterward—it was mesmerizing.

The truth was, to him, you weren’t just beautiful. You were art. Ethereal. Otherworldly. A vision so lovely it left him breathless, as though if he blinked too long, you might disappear like a dream slipping through his fingers.

You lifted the mug for another sip, but before it could reach your lips, Gi-hun’s hand wrapped around yours, gently prying it away. He placed it on the nightstand with slow, deliberate care, his eyes never leaving yours.

Before you could protest, strong hands found your waist, fingers pressing into your skin with a quiet urgency as he pulled you flush against him. The warmth of his bare chest seeped through the thin barrier between you, his body heat wrapping around you like a second skin. A soft gasp left your lips, but it quickly melted into laughter as he tilted his head, pressing a series of slow, featherlight kisses along your jaw.

His lips traveled lower, teasing the sensitive skin of your neck before trailing down to your collarbones, each kiss more deliberate, more reverent than the last. The sensation sent a delightful shiver rippling through you, and you instinctively curled your arms around his neck, fingers threading through the strands of his dark hair. A giggle bubbled from your lips, breathy and sweet, as his kisses lingered against your skin.

"You're too sweet for your own good," you whispered, your voice laced with affection.

Gi-hun pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his grip on you tightening as if he were afraid to let go. His nose brushed against yours, the smallest touch, yet it sent a rush of warmth flooding through your veins. His voice, low and earnest, settled in the space between you like a promise.

"I'll follow you anywhere."

Your heart fluttered at his words, an undeniable truth shining in his eyes. Smiling softly, you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint stubble dusting his skin. He leaned into your touch, his lashes lowering as if savoring the quiet moment, the weight of his devotion pressing against you in the most beautiful way.

His hand drifted upward, his fingers grazing the curve of your jaw before his thumb brushed a slow, deliberate line over the softness of your lips. His touch was light—almost teasing—tracing the delicate shape as if memorizing every detail. A playful glint flickered in your eyes as you quipped, "That would mean you’re stuck with me and my antics. I don’t think you want that."

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, but his expression softened into something far more serious. That same hand slid lower, his fingers curling around the front of your neck, something you begged for earlier. Although this time it wasn't in restraint but in reverence. His warmth seeped into your skin. With a gentle but undeniable pull, he guided your forehead to his, the space between you vanishing in a heartbeat. His eyes fluttered shut, his breath fanning over your lips, ragged and heavy.

"I do…” his voice was barely more than a whisper, raw and aching as if the weight of his own feelings threatened to consume him. “God, I do.”

His lips brushed yours, the touch featherlight, reverent, almost hesitant—like a man savoring a moment he never wanted to end. But as you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss as sweet as it was certain, he melted into you. His fingers tightened ever so slightly at your nape, anchoring you to him, as if afraid you’d slip away.

You responded in kind, your lips moving against his in a slow, plotted dance, each press, each sigh, each lick of his tongue, each lingering second a silent confession of everything words could never quite capture.

As your tongues tangled, his kisses grew deeper, more desperate, igniting a fire in your veins. The cool fabric of the sheets slipped from your chest and fell between your bodies, discarded and forgotten, leaving your skin bare beneath his heated gaze. His eyes sparked with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine, drinking in every inch of you as though committing the sight to memory.

A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest as he pressed his face against your breasts, his breath hot and ragged against your sensitive skin. Each exhale sent tingling currents down your body, anticipation coiling deep in your core. His hair was impossibly soft beneath your fingers, thick and silken as you curled them into his locks, tugging just enough to draw a deep, approving groan from his lips. The sound vibrated against your skin, pooling warmth between your thighs as he surrendered to the delicious pull of your touch. He lifted you a moment, pushing the blanket from his lap, leaving nothing to separate him from you.

Your hand shot out before you could stop it, slamming onto the nightstand with a sharp crack as he pushed you down, sheathing himself all at once. A startled yelp tore from your lips as one of the ceramic mugs jolted, hot tea sloshing over the edge in messy rivulets. The cup teetered for a heartbeat before plunging to the floor, shattering on impact, jagged shards skittering across the wooden planks.

The scent of steeped leaves and honey filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of broken ceramic, while a dark stain spread across the tabletop, dripping slowly onto the floor. He lifted your hips, only to push them back down, setting a brutal pace.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, teeth sinking into the firm heat of his shoulder, muffling the soft, needy whimpers that spilled from his lips and into your ear. The world outside this moment ceased to exist—broken ceramic, spilled tea, the mess you'd made—all of it faded into irrelevance. Your damp fingers, sticky with the remnants of your forgotten drink, traced down the ridges of his back, nails pressing into taut muscle. You felt the way he tensed beneath your touch, the way his skin shivered as you kneaded into the knots of tension, pressing deeper, drawing him closer.

If there was one thing you knew about Gi-hun, it was that he was a boob man, always taking the opportunity to knead at your flesh, stare at the curves of your chest, touch, lick, bite.

He basically pried you from him, pushing you onto your back. You gasped in shock from the change of position and he began hammering into you harder.

And it was electrifying.

He attached himself to your chest, not letting off, or letting go as his hair tickled your collarbone. He murmured sweet praises at your beauty, and you arched, practically screaming, as he fucked you through your climax. His wasn't long after, making him collapse. The heavy weight of him was crushing and you groaned, "fuck get offf." He chuckled into your neck, rolling off of you.

You lay side by side, the weight of your bodies pressing together as you both tried to steady your breathing. His chest rose and fell, the rhythm uneven as he struggled to catch his breath. Your eyes wandered to the mess scattered across the floor; the forgotten mug shattered on the floor, and its contents spilled. A sigh slipped from your lips, the urge to tidy up gnawing at you.

“I should pick that up,” you murmured, half-heartedly attempting to sit up, but before you could make a move, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back down. You tumbled softly against his chest, the warmth of his body surrounding you, and he chuckled, the sound deep and content.

“Later,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t help but giggle, the laughter bubbling up from within, and you let yourself sink into the moment. The mess on the floor could wait.

[arsenicboobop]

does anyone have like recommendations for media like ‘dinner in america’ whether it’s movies, books, music, just anything cause i really love the movie and wanna feel the same vibes

[janeeyrewannabe]

simon and patty writing to each other while he's in prison

sorry my strange darling fic is taking so long school and work are taking turns beating the shit out of me

wc: 900ish

Simon is such a fucking weirdo. He will say the nastiest freakiest shit in his letters, the guards who read it before they ship it out are clutching their pearls while reading his filth (fyi his handwriting is freakishly neat, due to his private school upbringing and the calligraphy classes his mom forced him to take). It starts off normal at first, ramblings about how his cellmate is such a pain in his ass and the lines in the bathrooms are too long, then in the middle of a paragraph its like a switch flips in his brain. Now he’s talking about how fucking hot she looked wearing his green jacket when she visited him a week ago. Says that he was palming himself through his pants because just hearing her voice gets him hard. Writes about how he had to lock himself in one of the bathroom stalls just so he could get off. Jots down the images of Patty that were running through his mind. Her bare body twisted up in his sheets, her wet cunt, the way his come dripped out of her after they fucked. Then he slips back into the mushy part of his brain where his thoughts of her are stored away. He talks about how much he misses her and how the last song she wrote him was one of the best he's ever heard. And then he's back to his debauchery. Now he’s talking about how much he misses her sweet pussy and how he can't wait to fuck her right when he gets out. He’s a very versatile guy.

An unsuspecting patty reads it on the bus on her way to work. Pulls the sleek black envelope out of her backpack, the contents contain a letter written in tidy handwriting and a couple of polaroids to keep her satiated at night when she's laying in bed. Pink cheeks and a grin on her face while she reads his letter. A high pitched giggle comes out of her mouth towards the end when he gets the most desperate for her. Then she takes a peek at the polaroids. The first is a of picture Simon just laying in bed, shirtless with a serious face. Nothing too raunchy. The next one is a different story. It's a photo of his hand wrapped around his cock, a little precum dribbling out of his tip. Took this one while his roommate was in the bathroom, a little rushed but it doesn't take much when he’s thinking about Patty.

She sends a letter back obviously. Can't send him a polaroid back since she gave him hers so Simon has to rely on her words. I feel like patty is low key nastier though. Like she is creating full on erotica. Her writing is more fleshed out, sonnets about love making and desire that burns in her throat just thinking about him. She tells him about the time where she jerked off while wearing his mask listening to his records. How she was rubbing slow controlled circles on her clit. Fingers inching lower and lower until she reached her tight hole. The wet sounds of her fingers pushing in and out of herself. Tells him how she imagines it’s him inside of her. Moving in a hard rhythm so deep inside her she swears she can feel him in her stomach. Writes about how the way his musk lingered in the mask and his raspy voice helped make her come. Then she ends her letter with sweet words of longing and that Chomby misses him too.

Even though simon is a nasty fucker he’s also a loverboy through and through. Also writes about how much he misses patty. And how he can't wait to mix some more stuff with her. Asks her how Kevin is doing and if he’s still being a little shit. Besides the filth and the yearning that he writes, he’s also been known to include a song or two in his letters. Maybe it's a continuation of something that patty wrote him or something that he’s dreamt of (dating patty has made him a million times more whimsical). I think he dreams a lot of what his life would be like with patty on the outside. It's the only thing he can do other than write and listen to his cellmate masturbate all hours of the fucking day.

With the envelopes come care packages, boxes filled with random stuff that reminds her of him. Snacks and pens and a bunch of other shit. Once she sent him a walkman and a mixtape of a few songs she's in the middle of making right now. She also sends him a sheet of puffy stickers hoping he’ll decorate his next envelope. He won't, but he’ll keep the sheet and run his fingers over them when he’s missing her extra. He keeps every letter and every polaroid in a box under his bunk. He’s got to keep them hidden away because his cellmate has no understanding of boundaries and he wants to keep every single bit of patty to himself. When he’s having trouble sleeping he’ll rifle through them, he's got his favorite ones memorized at this point. Patty keeps her favorite ones pinned up in her room. Even though they're apart she’s still surrounded by Simon.

im procrastinating my coursework so hard so here's is a little something before I lock tf in. I have literally no idea what's allowed in prison so ignore that if those are not allowed🧍‍♀️I rewatched dinner in America for the thousandth time and the way simon is acting all hard the whole movie and he still says the word tummy is fucking killing me 😭 pls comment and like and reblog I want to know what you think :))))))

[lustkillers]

Would love to see some content for Simon from Dinner in America or Colin Gray, you’re more than welcome to pick the subject matter, preferably female reader

｡ﾟ･ ୨୧ . i owe you a black eye and two kisses.

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - oh, how he's missed his girl during his time away.

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - simon / john q x fem!reader

✶ c.w. - nsfw freaky deaky time!! hard?dom simon, sub!reader, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP.), p in v, car sex (in a volkswagen beetle...), public sex, STOMACH BULGE!!! facial, throat fucking-ish, degradation—but also praise, cowgirl position, overstimulation, hair pulling, very cutesy fic... (let me know if i missed anything!)

⊹₊ ⋆ note - back from the dead (laziness) and kicking it!! i hope i did this request justice as i haven’t written in so long… WHOOPS. its been literally ages since i wrote smut so i apologize if i’m rusty as hell doing this… PLEASE FORGIVE ME. anywho… LUSTKILLERS IS SO BACK BABY 🙂‍↕️

requests are open! <3

THE night was cold and you couldn't be more bored out of your mind. the windows of your red volkswagen beetle were down, the distinguished smell of the car gas filling the air around you. your leg bounced, the keys that consisted of plenty of keychain accessories clinking against each other, and your eyes traced over the rusty, tall fence that you probably counted all the diamond-shaped holes between each steel bar. how long have you been here? an hour? hour too early?

at the rate of biting at your own cheek unconsciously, there was probably a dent that was left inside your cheek from how much you've bit down on it. turning your palms over was a nightmare; your hands glistening with sweat from anticipation. you wanted to look the best. you wanted everything to be perfect.

you couldn't even remember how he ended up here; maybe you blocked it out. slightly tragic on your end, watching as your boyfriend was cuffed and put into the back of a cop car, the last thing you experienced together was your fingers loosely holding a cigarette for him. that feeling left you empty... and a bit sexually frustrated, due to the fact that he had promised to fuck you real good after his performance.

a masculine silhouette stood at the goddamned fence that you loathed, your eyes shooting up at the whirring sound of the mechanical fence sliding to the right, leaving the figure to leave. you let go of the cigarettes that laid in the cupholder, your slippery hands moving to unlock your car.

with a frustrated yell, you quickly wiped your hands on the seats on your car, restoring the dryness that easily helped you unlock your god forsaken car. you opened the door, ducking under the slight top ledge that you've hit your head on plenty of times. you were giddy like a child receiving their gifts on their birthday– squealing as you shut the door behind you and stood in front of the driver's side door, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and a smile spread across your face.

simon had that stupid smirk on his face, scruff all over his face, and his hair slightly grown out from the last time you saw him. he also had the same clothes on from the last time, the green jacket and black pants with the boots. it felt like the first time all over again, and god, that outfit made your pussy throb, and your knees were moments away from bucking and landing onto the dirt ground.

"didn't i tell you to get rid of that goddamn car? looks stupid, the ladybug print and all." simon said gruffly, a slight smirk creeping onto the corners of with lips, his siren-like eyes peering down at you.

you looked up at him with a slight pout and doe eyes, "i think it looks cute." you mumbled in defense. his eyes gleamed with a predatory look on you. cute, he thought. but what left his lips was just a mere scoff, his smirk turning into a smile... which was still somehow intimidating if you think about it.

"looks like a kiddie car, that's what it looks like." he taunted, making you playfully roll your eyes.

you huff, "i'm gonna punch you in the face... leave a black eye while i'm at it." your voice taunting, yet not really sincere. he only chuckled in response, "c'mere." he moved towards you, his lips swinging down to kiss yours, kissing away the pout that now disappeared.

his rough, big hands wandered towards your ass, gripping it with no intent of letting go. simon's kisses were one of a man deprived of lust and yearning, and he wasn't planning to let your breathe for air. his hands roamed around your backside, his feet pushing you back towards the silly-looking car, his right hand pulling at the door handle, swinging the door open.

simon's eyes opened from the kiss, his frustration growing from the lack of the backdoors your car had. he let out a groan, his lips unlatching from yours, his jaw clenching as he softly moved you aside, bringing the drivers seat forward so you two could hop in the back. his pants strained against his bulge, and the whine that left your lips made it even worse.

"give me a moment doll, your car is pissing me off." he grumbled, watching his head as he hopped into the small car, with you behind him, closing the door. he was sitting with his legs spread, you in front of him with little to no space at all, on your knees, which were already feeling rough from the material of the bottom the car.

you and simon made no time to push down your pants, his hands unbuckling the shiny belt that clinked once it unfastened from his waist, and your hands helped slide them down, his thick, long cock springing free, and you could've sworn your eye twitched at the sight. with the way he looked down at you and the non-existent space you left between your face and his cock, the feeling between your thighs released itself like a flood; your thighs pressing together in instinct.

"god, if you don't hurry it up, i might take matters into my own hands." he groaned out, swallowing dryly as his hands gripped at your hair; making you squeak out a quick 'sorry,' and your tongue quickly laid flat against the side of his cock; a hiss escaping simon's pretty lips. "fuck," he groaned.

you worked your way around his cock, your head bobbing up and down, trying your best to keep eye-contact with him as you bobbed. spit drooled down the sides of your mouth; the liquid pooling at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down his strained balls; the sounds of his grunts and low groans filling the small car.

he felt your right hand shift towards your sopping pussy; mewls leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit, heightening your senses, but also making you focus less on working his cock. simon noticed it, his grip on your hair turning into a makeshift lever, the control reeling to him as he started to guide your head up and down, his cock spearing at the back of your throat, hitting past the uvula. the feeling made you gag, spluttering more spit around his cock, the sight being messy as ever. he pulled your head from his cock, your right hand leaving your clit in response, and as your lips left his cock, it making you gasp out in air; your eyes watering from the intense throat-fuck that was definitely going to leave you sore, along with your poor legs that were soon to fall victim to his fucking.

"si, give me a moment–" you squealed, making simon laugh as he pulled you up onto his lap, laughter leaving from both your lips. "tryna get me put in jail again, doll? fuckin' in front of the prison i just got out of?" he smirked, his forehead touching yours.

"not my fault, si– oh!" you hum in response, which quickly turned into a gasp– which finally turned into a moan, his cock knowingly filling your tight walls. his hips piston upwards, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt. his hands held at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock, creating a white, creamy ring around the base.

the car windows immediately fogged up, heat and sweat glistening on both your bodies, the occasional cocky laugh simon let out settled into your ears, making you shiver. your hips worked at a sensual speed, grinding and bouncing, alternating between the two, moans spilling from your lips.

his lips shut your moans up for a bit, before pulling away and murmuring, "so pretty bouncing on my cock, like the slut you are." he smiled against your shoulder, placing a kiss against it as he looked at you, babbling and panting. "feel that?" he whispered, pressing down on the bulge his cock made in your stomach, immediately making you start to crumble.

you looked at him, your hips started to falter and grow slower, your legs tired and your thighs shaking as the pressure built up, waiting to burst out. but you tried to keep your pace going, your hands on his chest as you whimpered.

your lips tried to form a sentence, only letting out broken words. "c–cum... i needa– hmph!" you cry out, feeling the vibrations of simon's chuckle. "can i–?" you whimpered, moments away from crying in frustration.

his lips captured yours once again, making you come undone. you came around his cock, clenching as your thighs tried to close at the feeling; high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you were sent into a fruitful bliss. "haah–! t-thank you, si!" you sigh, your hips stuttering, still lazily grinding, praying to god that simon finds his release, or you'd probably lose it.

simon groaned, nearing his release as he fucks up into you, your overstimulated pussy weeping and soaking. "m'gonna cum," he exhaled, and at his words– he came, but he planned to cum on your face, his hands making quick–but safe work, one shot of cum shooting inside your cunt, and when you blink, you're already on your knees, hot spurts of his warm cum hitting your face, your eyes closing. he let out a hoarse breath, "that was fuckin' tits," he laughed, hunched over. his cock started to soften, his hands making quick work and grabbed the cigarette pack and paper towel that sat inside the cup holder. he ripped a piece of paper towel, wiping your face... decently clean, but it was the effort that counted.

your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a smirk on his face as a lit cigarette hung from his lips, his rough hands cupping your face and stroking his thumb across your fucked-out cheeks. "you're one of a kind, y'know that?" he let out a sigh, fixing your clothes back on you, and pulling you up to straddle him again sharing a kiss, which tasted like cigarettes, but you didn't mind. you never had a problem with him and he never had a problem with you. the world revolved around you both and nobody else. his eyes twinkled at the sight of your eyes, and his face softened.

"ditto." you whispered, smiling.

[spencerreidswhore187]

Statistically Speaking

Summary: One drunken night, whilst undercover in Vegas, you and your least favourite colleague, Spencer Reid, accidentally get married. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x g!n Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

T/W: Mentions of alcohol and guns

——————————

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred as the night unfolded. Undercover on a high-stakes case, you and Spencer Reid—your arch-nemesis—found yourselves thrown into the midst of the city's wild energy. For some unknown reason, the two of you had never got on. You were always fighting, arguing and trying to sabotage the other. Well, unknown to Spencer. You only hated him because he made it clear how much he didn't like you from day one - not that you’d ever admit it. 

The team had sent you to a casino, undercover as a couple, trying to get a lead on an arms dealer. Instead, you ended up drowning your frustrations and differences in drinks. The night was a whirlwind of laughter, shared secrets, and surprisingly genuine moments. The alcohol flowed freely, clouding your judgment. Before you knew it, you were stumbling back to your hotel room in the early hours of the morning.

Waking up with a pounding headache and a hazy memory, you groggily opened your eyes to find Spencer lying beside you.

“What-”

A flicker of panic surged through you as you noticed a glint on your finger. You held up your hand, squinting at the unexpected sight of a ring.

The band was adorned with small, twinkling crystals that encircled a modest yet sparkling diamond like a constellation.

"What the hell happened last night?" you muttered to yourself. The memories were fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be put together.

Spencer stirred beside you, rubbing his temples and blinking against the harsh light. His eyes widened as he slowly processed where the is and the ring on your finger. A moment of stunned silence passed between both of you before he spoke, his voice a mix of confusion and realisation.

"Did we... get married?”

As the weight of Spencer's words hung in the air, you exchanged bewildered glances, both attempting to unravel the mystery of the events that transpired the night before.

"I can't believe this," Spencer mumbled, his voice a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "We were undercover, trying to gather intel on that arms dealer. How did we end up married?”

Pieces of the previous night's escapade start to slowly come together in your mind. Flashes of laughter, clinking glasses, and a hasty decision made in the heat of the moment flood your memory. The realisation hit you both simultaneously, and a burst of nervous laughter escaped your lips.

"We might have, uh, taken the whole 'cover' thing a bit too far," you admit, a sheepish smile forming on your face.

Spencer runs a hand through his tousled hair. "This is... unexpected.”

The sound of urgent footsteps outside the hotel room door interrupted your awkward exchange. Both of you tensed.

"We need to figure out how to handle this," Spencer whispered to you. "But for now, let's focus on the mission. We can deal with the aftermath later.”

As Spencer finished his sentence, a knock echoed through the room. You exchanged a quick, determined glance before Spencer moved to answer the door.

It's the team - Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia and JJ - ready to discuss the next steps in your undercover operation. Your mind races as you Spencer opens the door.

The team filed into the hotel room. Hotch surveyed the room with his usual intensity, immediately honing in on you and Spencer sitting side by side at the table near the bed. There's a momentary pause, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that doesn't go unnoticed. They know, you realised.

"Reid, Y/N, any new developments?" Hotch asked, his gaze lingering just a fraction longer than usual.

You and Spencer exchange a quick, almost imperceptible glance. Spencer, ever the master of composure, began discussing your latest findings and the potential leads in the case. The team, however, seemed more interested in the unusual dynamic in the room, enjoying the peace and quiet from your constant bickering. Morgan shot a knowing smirk at Rossi, and Prentiss raised an eyebrow, her perceptive gaze fixed on the two of you.

Garcia couldn’t help but interject with her trademark enthusiasm. "Lovebirds, got any post-mission plans? Maybe a little honeymoon action in the city of sin?”

Your cheeks flushed, and Spencer raised an eyebrow at Garcia's comment. The team's reactions ranged from amusement to curiosity. They exchanged glances, clearly aware something had happened between the two of you.

"Let's stay on track,” Hotch commanded. “Y/N, Reid, ensure you're maintaining cover without any compromises. We can address any personal matters once the case is closed.”

The case at hand revolved around an elusive arms dealer known for supplying weapons to various criminal organisations. The BAU had been tracking a series of illegal arms transactions across the country, all leading back to a shadowy figure with connections to international criminal networks.

The latest lead pointed to Las Vegas as the epicentre of the dealer's operations. The city's bustling nightlife, intricate web of contacts, and numerous potential buyers made it the perfect hub for illicit activities. The team suspected that the arms dealer was planning a significant deal that could have far-reaching consequences, possibly involving a dangerous new weapon on the market.

Your role, alongside Spencer, was to gather intel, getting as close to the operation as possible by posing as a couple interested in the arms trade. 

“We have reason to believe the unsub will be dining at the Aurelia Elegante tonight,” said Prentiss.

“Garcia, can you get a booking there for tonight?” Asked Hotch. 

Penelope tapped away on her laptop, giving the team a thumbs up after a few seconds.

“Y/N and Reid, you will both have earpieces and we’ll be waiting in the van around back. Do your best to blend it, do your best to interact with him without raising suspicion. Does everyone understand?” 

The team nodded. As the door closed, leaving you and Spencer alone again, the weight of the situation settled in.

——————————

"You know," Spencer started adjusting his tie as you walked towards the entrance of the restaurant, "I never thought I'd have the pleasure of going on a fake date with my sworn enemy.”

"Enemy? Really, Reid? Isn't that a bit dramatic?" you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Spencer smirked, his eyes gleaming. "Just trying to keep things interesting. But don't worry, I'll make sure our marriage is the talk of the town.”

"Let's focus on the mission, shall we?" you replied, masking a smile. "And for the record, we’re arch-nemeses.”

He chuckled, a hint of amusement softening his usual seriousness. "We'll see about that.”

"You know, for someone who claims to have an IQ of 187, you're surprisingly lacking in social skills," you quipped, your eyes narrowing at Spencer.

He shot back with a sardonic grin. "Well, I'd rather be lacking in social skills than tact, Y/N.”

“Wow. You’re hilarious,” you deadpanned. 

As you entered the restaurant, the conversation subsided. The team's instructions echoed in your earpieces, guiding you toward the unsub’s location.

Once seated, Spencer leaned in, his eyes glinting mischievously. "So, how do you think our fake dating story should go? High school sweethearts reunited by fate? A spontaneous, drunken wedding in Vegas?”

You scoffed, playing along. "More like sworn enemies forced into a twisted partnership."

His lips curled into a wry smile. “Ah, the classic love story.”

The waiter handed you both menus, and you shifted your focus to the task at hand. As you scanned the room, you caught sight of a figure entering the restaurant—a man whose demeanour exuded confidence and authority. You had spent endless nights awake researching the arms dealer and there was no mistaking that this was him.

Spencer discreetly nudged you, his eyes flicking toward the approaching figure. "Looks like our guest of honour just arrived.”

The arms dealer, known by the alias "Black Serpent," made his way through the restaurant, exchanging nods with select individuals. His presence commanded attention.

Maintaining your cover, you and Spencer continued your conversation, occasionally glancing in the unsubs direction. The challenge now was to find an opportune moment to engage him in a way that wouldn't raise suspicion.

As the evening unfolded, the tension in the air grew. The arms dealer seemed engrossed in discussions with his date, making it difficult to approach him discreetly. The team, monitoring the situation from a distance, communicated updates through your earpieces.

Finally, as dessert arrived, the unsub stood from his table.

There was a shared moment of silent understanding between you and Spencer. The team's voices hummed discreetly in your earpieces. 

Hotch’s urgency pierced through the calm facade.

"Stay calm. We need to keep him here," Hotch advised.

Spencer, despite his usual composed demeanour, couldn’t hide the flicker of concern in his eyes.

The menus in your hands suddenly felt heavier, the challenge of keeping him engaged without raising suspicion became more critical with each passing second. 

Hotch's voice broke through the static.

"You need to distract him. Find a way to keep him here," Hotch instructed, urgency lacing his words.

In a moment of panic, you discreetly slipped the ring off your finger and passed it to Spencer. He caught on instantly and, with a deft move, took the ring into his hand.

As the arms dealer starts to leave, Spencer seizes the opportunity, his face lighting up with a mix of charm and faux sincerity.

“Y/N, I have been waiting months to do this," Spencer said, dropping to one knee and holding out the engagement ring.

You play along, feigning shock and delight, covering your mouth with shaking hands.

A ripple of surprise moved through the surrounding tables as patrons shifted their attention to you and Spencer. Even the unsub paused, watching curiously to see how this turned out.

"Remember that time in Chicago when we stumbled upon that bookstore trying to get out of the rain? It didn’t matter that you were drenched, you were entranced by the old books. I watched you drag your finger across their old spines as you hummed to yourself. There was a small, beautiful smile on your face as if someone had told a joke only you were privy to. At that moment, I knew there was something truly special about you," Spencer continues, his eyes locked onto yours.

You had been on a case a year or two ago when that happened; you didn’t think that Spencer had remembered. 

The surrounding tables become hushed as Spencer continued. 

"I've witnessed you at your best and your worst, Y/N. Through it all, I have been nothing but enamoured by you. I-I love you, I always have. Even during our occasional bickering," he added, a playful smile playing on his lips. “Will you do me the honour of being my wife?” 

"Yes," you responded, the word escaping your lips with a hint of genuine emotion. Momentarily, you forgot this was all fake, an act, a performance. Momentarily, you forgot that you and Spencer were not the only people in the room.

The boundaries between reality and the undercover performance started to blur, and a haze of uncertainty clouded your thoughts. In that split second, you had to keep reminding yourself that this was a charade. The charm in Spencer's eyes feels genuine, and for a heartbeat, you entertain the notion that he truly, truly loved you.

But then, reality came crashing down.

 The earpiece buzzed with updates from the team, snapping you out of the fleeting illusion. You remembered the undercover mission, the arms dealer, and the necessity of the proposal diversion.

Amidst the applause and cheers from the surrounding tables, you play your part, feigning surprise and joy as Spencer slips the ring onto your finger.

Distracted, you watch the unsub start moving towards the exit. Spencer dropped several notes on the table and grabbed your hand as you two rushed off to follow him.

You and Spencer navigated the alleyway. There, at the end, the unsub had started a deal in a shadowy corner, several metres away from you. 

Spencer pulled you close against him so you could discretely observe, waiting for the right moment to take him down. 

You were still rattled by Spencer's words, his unexpected description of that rainy day in Chicago. There was this weird feeling in your stomach. You were shocked annoyed and irritated that you had been lost in the act. But the most confusing thing was that Spencer had not yet let go of your hand. 

"That was quite the performance, boy genius. Didn't know you had it in you," you whispered, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Spencer smirked, "Well, necessity and whatnot, Y/N. And you played your part quite convincingly too.”

But the arms dealer must have heard you as he cocked his gun, aiming it towards you as he shouted “Who’s there?”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat; he grabbed your face, pressing his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate, the kiss was unexpected but you knew what he was doing - keeping up appearances.

The kiss started tentatively but soon your movements became frantic and desperate. As the seconds pass, you couldn’t help but feel a strange connection, a hint of something beyond the act.

Real or not, if you knew he was this good a kisser, you would have married him much earlier. 

Spencer's hand, warm and steady, found its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer. The dampness of the alley beneath your feet and the impending chaos seemed inconsequential at this moment.

As you pulled away, you dropped Spencer’s hand. Putting on a sweet, fake smile you walked towards the unsub. 

“Ohmygosh I’m so sorry,” you gushed. “This is so so embarrassing! I thought we were alone out here, oh gosh.” You walked towards the unsub who seemed momentarily taken aback. 

“We just got engaged, you see!” You explained, gesturing at Spencer who hesitantly hovered behind you. 

“Congratulations,” said the man hesitantly. As he spoke, you widened your eyes, discretely trying to indicate what you were planning to Spencer. He seemed to understand. 

“Show him the ring, babe,” Spencer said.  

Excitedly, you raised your hand to show the unsub the ring. You had to admit, although it pained you, Spencer had good taste. 

As the unsub leaned in for a closer look, you seized the opportunity. In a swift motion, you grabbed his wrists, pinning his arms behind his back as you spun him around and handcuffed him. 

You read the dealer his rights as Spencer chased after the figure he was selling to. 

——————————

After the successful arrest of the arms dealer, the team dispersed. You offered a quick "goodnight" to your colleagues. You hoped Spencer, ever observant, didn’t notice the subtle tension in your demeanour. As you made your way to your room, a flood of conflicting emotions overwhelmed you.

Entering the quiet solitude of your room, you couldn’t shake the residual confusion from the case. The success of the operation was overshadowed by the unexpected array of emotions you had started to feel. Especially the lingering disappointment that none of it was real. 

As you prepared for a restless night, a knock interrupted your thoughts. You opened the door to find Spencer standing there, an uncharacteristic nervousness in his demeanour. "Can I come in?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You open the door wider, letting him enter. The atmosphere in the room was charged with an unusual tension. "Um-" you begin, but Spencer speaks at the same time, “So-“

The simultaneous interruption elicited a brief, nervous chuckle from both of you, breaking the ice just a fraction. Spencer took a step forward, his eyes searching yours for a clue about what's on your mind.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I noticed something was bothering you back there. Are you okay?”

You glanced at him, conflicted emotions swirling beneath the surface. "It's just been a long day, Spencer. Successful mission, but there were some…unexpected moments.”

He nods, seemingly understanding, but the tension between you remained palpable. An awkward silence descended, unusual for two individuals whose interactions usually consisted of insults and jibes.

"You know," he started, his voice softer than usual, "we make a good team when we put our differences aside.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected sincerity in his words. "Are you saying you enjoyed our date tonight?”

Spencer smirked, a hint of humour playing on his lips. "It was surprisingly effective, and you played your part convincingly.”

The tension eased a bit. ”Well, don't get used to it. This doesn't mean I like you," you retort, but there's a subtle twinkle in your eye.

Spencer chuckled, the atmosphere shifted from awkward to slightly more relaxed. "Fair enough. But seriously, if something's bothering you, you can talk to me. We're a team, after all.”

You hesitate for a moment, the conflicting emotions from the undercover mission and the unusual connection with Spencer weighing on you. "It's just... tonight felt so real. And... um, we were drunk and got married in Vegas? I’ve not really processed that yet.”

Spencer's expression shifted, a flicker of realisation in his eyes. “We’ve been so busy with the case we haven’t discussed it yet. Do you remember much?”

It all started coming back to you then: the laughter that echoed as you and Spencer stumbled into a chapel, impulsively deciding to partake in a makeshift wedding ceremony.

The Elvis impersonator, a short figure in a bedazzled jumpsuit, was the officiator. Grinning as you and Spencer, caught in the whirlwind of a drunken escapade, prepared to exchange vows.

Spencer's usually reserved demeanour seemed to dissolve in the face of the unexpected festivities. His eyes, usually focused, held a glint of unbridled amusement. The corners of his lips curled into a rare and somewhat goofy smile as he faced you.

The Elvis impersonator, with a theatrical flourish, prompted Spencer to begin his improvised vows. Spencer, swaying slightly on his feet, cleared his throat, a nervous playing on his lips.

“Uh, Y/N, where do I begin?” Spencer began, his words punctuated by the occasional glance towards the glittering jumpsuit-clad officiator. “I, um, I suppose I've never been good at expressing, you know, feelings. But, well, here we are, in this... unique situation.”

The crowd of tipsy onlookers erupted in laughter. Spencer’s gaze locked onto yours with a strange sincerity in his eyes.

“I've spent pretty much my entire life analysing statistics, probabilities, and patterns," he continued. “But, Y/N, you're the most unexpected, unpredictable variable I've ever encountered. And, um, that's strangely…fascinating.”

A ripple of laughter and cheers echoed through the chapel. 

As the officiator prompted you to exchange rings, Spencer fumbled with the small band, his usually nimble fingers betraying his drunkenness. 

It was your turn for vows. You took a deep breath, locking eyes with Spencer, and slurred, “Spencer, Spence, we might be, like, a weird match, and usually, you're my, uh, adversary - especially when we're both sober. But, in this super strange moment... what's the word? There’s nowhere I’d rather be. Yeah, here, with you.”

Laughter erupted again, and Spencer's eyes met yours with a mix of surprise and genuine delight

“You're the anomaly in my carefully calculated world, Spencer," you continued, a playful and gentle smile gracing your lips. "So, here's to embracing the unexpected, facing the unknown, and, well, defying the odds.”

With a theatrical flair, the officiator declared you “partners in crime” and, to the cheers of the onlookers, pronounced you “sort of, kind of, legally bound by the power vested in a tipsy Elvis impersonator.”

As the laughter echoed through the chapel, you and Spencer, gently swaying together in an attempt to stay upright, sealed the moment with a brief peck on the lips. 

Spencer’s nervous chuckle brings you back to the present. 

"Well, at least our drunken alter egos know how to keep things interesting," he remarked, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Who would've thought.”

Both of you settled onto the end of the bed, the reality of the situation sinking in.

"So, technically, we're married," you said, a wry smile on your face.

Spencer nods, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "In the eyes of an Elvis impersonator, at least. I don't think that holds up in court, though.”

The laughter continued, a strange sense of camaraderie emerging. The usual jabs and insults were replaced by a more genuine exchange as if the bizarre circumstances of the last 24 hours had lifted a veil.

“It's just surreal, you know? One moment we're at each other's throats, and the next, “ you paused to do air quotes, “we're legally bound by the whims of a very tipsy Elvis.”

Spencer leant back, mirroring your contemplative expression. "Life has a way of throwing curveballs, especially in our line of work. I never would've predicted this turn of events, but here we are.”

The room was filled with a sense of shared understanding and, for a moment, the complexities of your lives seemed distant. It was just Spencer and you. 

The laughter and banter gradually faded, leaving a moment of quiet introspection as you and Spencer sat side by side on the edge of the bed.

As the silence stretched, Spencer took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room. The air was thick with anticipation as he finally spoke.

"Hey, so, um, I know our dynamic is... unconventional and I've been terrible at expressing it. But you know, statistically speaking, couples that bicker a lot actually tend to have a longer-lasting relationship. It's this paradox of communication and—"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you turned to face him, cutting off his rambling. "Spence, are you trying to tell me something here?"

He stumbled over his words for a moment before taking another deep breath. "Yes, exactly. I mean, not about the statistics. Well, yes, about the statistics, but also about us. I've liked you, like, romantically liked you, and statistically—"

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at the endearing awkwardness of Spencer's attempt to express his feelings. "Spencer, you don't need statistics to tell me that. I get it."

His eyes widened, a mix of relief and surprise. "Oh, good. I was worried I might have overwhelmed you with the statistical details. You know, statistically, most love confessions—"

You decided to cut off his statistical analysis in the most effective way possible. With a sly grin, you grabbed Spencer's tie and pulled him towards you, closing the gap between you. His eyes widened in surprise, but there was a hint of curiosity in them.

The kiss starts tentatively, Spencer, initially stunned by your bold move, quickly caught on. His lips were softer than you remembered, different to when you had kissed in the alley - real. 

There was a moment of hesitation, a silent question hanging in the air—do you want this as much as he does? Your response was an enthusiastic one; the kiss deepened.

Spencer’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, a gentle yet firm grip that pulls you closer. Your own hands navigate the planes of his shoulders, the fabric of his tie feeling smooth against your fingertips.

As you pull away, there's a shared moment of breathlessness between you two.

“We have one more night in Vegas, maybe I could show you around.”

The simplicity of his suggestion caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but smile. The idea of Spencer Reid nervously asking you out is endearing in its own right.

"Are you asking me on a date, Spencer?" you teased.

He nodded, a hint of a smile breaking through his usually serious demeanour. "Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, technically, we're already married," he adds, a chuckle escaping him.

You laughed at the irony of the situation. “True…we did have that spontaneous Vegas wedding. But yes, I'd love to go on a date with you.”

"Great. I'll, uh, figure something out. Something... not statistically likely to go wrong.” Spencer said. 

Mustering the confidence to ask, you turned to him. "Did you mean what you said in the restaurant...about Chicago?"

"I meant every word." Spencer's eyes never leave yours. 

"I thought we were rivals, arch-nemeses, sworn enemies? I thought you hated me"

"I hated the way you made me feel, I've not been able to stop thinking about you since you first walked through the doors of the BAU."

You smiled.

“So Reid, what’s the statistical probability that Hollywood will turn our story into a full-blown romantic comedy?” you quipped, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Well, if we factor in our unpredictability and the inherent chaos of our lives, it's safe to say we're defying statistical norms.”

You laughed, "So, what's our romantic comedy title then? 'Undercover Hearts' or 'Marriage by Probability'?"

Spencer paused, considering the options. "I'd go with 'Mathematical Mismatch.' It has a certain statistical ring to it."

You playfully nudged him, "Well, as long as it's not 'Statistically Ever After,' we should be fine."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, "Are you implying our story won't have a fairy-tale ending?"

You smirked, "Oh, I'm sure it will be a uniquely chaotic and statistically improbable ending, just the way we like it."

——————————

A/N: Thank you for reading ◡̈

[little-diable]

A bit of heat, a bit of anger - Aaron Hotchner (smut)

It's been a while, but this idea found its way to me and I simply had to write this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Aaron has never treated her as kindly as he treats the rest of the team, but after a fight between them and a guy trying to chat the reader up, Aaron can't hold himself back any longer.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, somewhat enemies to lovers, clear power imbalance, jealous Aaron

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!reader (3k words)

The heat was burning down on them, letting the sun heat their bodies as the warmth travelled straight through their dark clothes which added an almost dangerous touch to their appearance. (Y/n) had her eyes focused on JJ, listening to her talk while they took in their surroundings.

It should be an easy case, allowing them to catch their unsub in a few days before they could fly home again to escape this heat. (Y/n) could barely believe that she had once grown up with temperatures this high, forced to accept the sweat pooling on her forehead, the thin clothing she’d wear for most parts of the year, things she now hated more than she could put into words. 

“(Y/n), Rossi and I will visit the families, Reid I need you for the geographic profile, JJ and Prentiss talk to the journalists again.” Aaron Hotchner’s voice rang in her ears. A sound so strong, so familiar, she didn’t understand how it still had that same effect on her. (Y/n) had joined the BAU a while ago, instantly drawn in by their friendliness and how they treated her like a member of their small family. She had found things to bond over with every single one of them, all but Aaron Hotchner.

The man was a confusing case to her, a case she struggled to solve. He was kind to her, treated her with just enough warmth to lead her on, and yet he was more distant with her than with the others, drawing a clear line between them. The others had tried to tell her about his cautious self, how he struggled to trust new people and that it would take him a while to warm up to her, but now, months later, he still hadn’t managed to give in to the friendly talks (y/n) tried to rope him into. 

“(Y/n), you should focus on the sister, she is about your age, so you should manage to bond with her, while we will talk to the parents.” Aaron’s dark eyes found hers in the rearview mirror while he spoke to (y/n). She knew better than to protest, knew better than to object – there was no use in going against Aaron Hotchner, at least not when they were on a case away from home. All she could do was nod her head, shooting him a tight smile before focusing on the files she was rereading. 

“I think, (y/n) should be the one to speak to the parents, she did better than we did last time.” Rossi’s voice filled the SUV, forcing their eyes towards him as his grin grew wider. There was something lingering in his gaze, something he and Aaron seemed to understand while (y/n) didn’t see through their wordless back and forth. 

“It’s alright, I will gladly speak to the sister.” She couldn’t bear an awkward atmosphere, couldn’t bear being roped into some useless bickering that would push Aaron Hotchner further away from her. His eyes snapped back towards hers, studying (y/n) for a few more moments before nodding his head at her. 

(Y/n) could only pray that this day would pass quickly enough, already set on visiting the bar Emily had picked for them on their way to this town, all too excited about riding a mechanical bull while putting on a show for whoever would dare to look at her for too long. 

……

To say the visit with the first family had been a bust would be an understatement. Within moments everything had escalated, forcing the three agents out of their home because the sister (y/n) had spoken to had flipped on her, screaming at the confused agent that had been pulled out of the room by a fuming Aaron Hotchner. 

No words had been shared on the ride back, leaving her stomach in knots while overthinking what had happened. It hadn’t been her fault, at least deep down she was aware of that, and yet she had instantly feared Hotchner's outlash, unable to live with the knowledge that she had disappointed him. 

“Do you have a moment, sir?” She was holding open the door to the room they had been offered at the local police station. The others had left for the bar minutes ago, leaving Aaron and (y/n) behind who were still working on new files they had picked up today. A nagging feeling deep inside of her had urged her on to search his closeness, to speak to him while the others were waiting for them. 

Aaron’s eyes flickered up from the file, studying her expression that dripped with too many emotions, a confusing mess she couldn’t fight through. He nodded his head at her, watching (y/n) take a step further into the room before closing the door behind herself. 

“I’m sorry for today, but I need you to know that I would never do something to escalate a situation. She wasn’t in a good mindset and was easily triggered. Disappointing you is something I don’t want to do.” Her hands were interlocked in front of her, tightly squeezed together while the words rolled off her tongue. 

“I shouldn’t have let you do this alone, I’ll make sure to supervise you the next time.” The words felt like a punch to her gut. He treated her as if she was a new agent, as if this was her first time out on the field and not like she had worked with other teams before joining the BAU. Anger began to simmer deep inside of her, an anger that threatened to take over her system. 

“Why are you treating me like this?” Her voice was small, quiet as if she was scared of his reaction. But this wasn’t about fear, no, she was trying to stop herself from spiralling, from getting lost in the rabbit hole he had just pushed her down. 

“Excuse me?” He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed in front of his chest. A fire was burning in both of their eyes, a similarity both shared and yet couldn’t focus on. 

“You treat me as if I’m a child, as if I came here straight from the academy and not like an agent with years of field experience. You know, people always told me all these stories about you, and how I should be grateful for the chance to work with you, but so far I don’t see what they all see. It’s quite disappointing, really.” She shook her head at him and turned from Aaron to flee from the room. But the call of her name forced her to a sudden halt. 

“I will let this pass, write it off as an exhausting day we all had. But the next time you speak to your supervisor like that, you will be asked to leave this team.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears she blinked away while her feet carried her away from Aaron and the brooding expression nobody wore as well as he did. 

……

“It’s your turn, (y/n)!” Emily had her arm slung over (y/n)’s shoulder, dragging her through the bar towards the mechanical bull Emily had ridden minutes ago. It had been a while since (y/n) had left the station, making a quick stop at their hotel to trade her work clothes for a nicely fitting dress that allowed her to blend in with most people at the bar.

“You know, I’m only doing this because I love you, right?” Her laughter bubbled out of her, ringing in both their ears while Spencer, JJ and Derek came to a halt next to Emily. They watched (y/n) climb into the ring before swinging herself onto the bull. It had been years since she had last done this, and yet her body still seemed to remember the routine well enough, giving her the confidence she needed.

Her wandering eyes were instantly drawn to his, watching him sit down next to Rossi, who was also looking at her with a wide smile. Parts of her wanted to put on a show, wondering if any of this was getting to Hotchner, the man whose jaw muscles were clenched and whose arm muscles were stretching the fabric of the dark shirt he wore. But another part of her was convinced that no matter what she’d do, he wouldn’t care, not about her. 

Music filled the air, buzzing through (y/n) while her surroundings began to spin. The people around her cheered for her, letting her smile grow as the movements gained some speed. She tightened her grip, her thighs clamping down as she rode each motion with determination. Her hair flew around her face, but she kept her focus on him, her laughter ringing out above the noise.

She managed to hold on even as the machine made an almost violent lurch, set on throwing her off. With one final, spectacular buck, the bull tried to unseat her. (Y/n) held on for a heartbeat longer before she was finally thrown, landing in a heap of laughter and exhilaration. The crowd erupted in applause, and she looked up to see her friends leaning over the barrier, smiling down at her. 

A guy she hadn’t seen before reached his hand out for her to take, pulling (y/n) back to her feet and straight into his chest. The guy was cute, about her age with piercing eyes that wandered over her features, all while she felt the eyes of the others on her, still cheering for her. 

“You were good, seemed like a natural.” His words left (y/n) chuckling while running a hand through her hair. 

“Did lots of these things as a teenager.” She watched her friends back off, leaving her alone with the guy who still held onto her.

“Will you let me buy you a drink?” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from flickering back to Aaron who was still watching her with a darkening expression. Perhaps it was stupid of her to say yes to the guy, but the alcohol already buzzing through her system made her feel all too excited about the knowledge that whatever she was doing was clearly getting to Aaron. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” They were leaning against the bar, he had his hand placed on her waist, while she had her front turned towards him. She struggled to focus on him, struggled to think about anything but her fight with her supervisor and the desperate need to impress him she couldn’t shake. 

“It’s (y/n).” Her voice trembled slightly, something the guy seemed to misinterpret for attraction or nervousness. His hand moved down from her waist, coming to rest on the small of her back with his fingers spread out on her skin. It was time to put an end to this, to gently push him away while mumbling something about having to return to her friends, but (y/n) didn’t get far. Before she could even try to speak up, she felt a hand clamping down on her wrist, pulling her from the guy’s grasp against a broad chest. 

The scent of his cologne instantly forced its way into her system, making (y/n) shudder against his hold. She didn’t need to look up at him to know that it was Aaron, already feeling much more comfortable than she had seconds before. She barely paid the harsh words Aaron and the guy shared any mind, too focused on the way her heart skipped a few beats as his hand left her wrist only to sling his arm around her waist. 

She didn’t protest as Aaron pulled her out of the bar, past their grinning team mates who studied the two with curiosity. No words were spoken, nothing but silence settled between them, a silence she feared more than the fights she had grown used to over the past months. Aaron started driving away from the bar, dark eyes set straight ahead. 

“So, will you tell me what this was about?” (Y/n) angled her body towards him, studying her supervisor with furrowed eyebrows. For a second, his eyes snapped towards hers, threatening to get lost in her pupils and that overly innocent gaze she shot him. “First you treat me like trash and now you sweep in to rescue me from a guy? You’re confusing me, Aaron.”

It was the first time she used his first name, making his jaw muscles twitch. She kept watching him, every expression tugging on his handsome features while a grin began to grow on her lips. (Y/n) had the upper hand, she had lured him into a trap with his own confusing behaviour. 

“Careful, agent.” His voice was raspier than before, dripping with a dangerous warning she ignored.

“Why? We are no longer on the clock, I can say what the hell I want.” Her grin turned into a full smirk, leaving the man brooding while driving back to their hotel.

“Don’t be a brat, (y/n), I’d hate to punish you.” Aaron’s words shot heat straight down to her core. She clenched her thighs together – a sight that drew a raspy chuckle from the tall man. This seemed to play out exactly like one of her dreams, reminding her of the scenarios she’d come up with whenever she touched herself to the thought of Aaron Hotchner. 

“I think you only speak empty threats, you would never do such things like punishing me.” The words seemed to push him over the edge, forcing the SUV to a halt in the middle of nowhere, parked on the side of the empty road. Within seconds he had turned towards (y/n), pulling her in for a searing kiss with his palm pressed against the back of her neck. She forgot how to breathe, fully sinking into the kiss with her heart pounding in her chest and her hands finding the collar of his shirt. 

Without breaking the kiss, she climbed over the middle console, finding rest on his lap to deepen the kiss. Their tongues were tangled, fully focused on every single touch as she let her hands wander down his front to find his belt. Aaron’s big hands were resting on her thighs, palming her skin with an urgency that left her trembling. 

“Aaron,” she mumbled his name against his lips. For a moment, they broke apart, looking at one another with glassy eyes. She couldn’t stop her chuckle from rumbling through her, buzzing through (y/n) while Aaron tightened his grip on her. “Be honest with me, what is this all about?”

“I hate myself for looking at you differently, for having this selfish need to protect you and pull you away from tasks because I fear you getting hurt. It’s egotistical and stupid, but I can’t stop it. I tried not to get too close to you, because I knew from the first day you’d make me suffer. But seeing you with this guy, how he had his hands on you, it forced me to act.” She kissed him again with as much passion as her dazy self could muster. Aaron instantly responded to the kiss, allowing his hands to move once again while she shuffled closer, letting her clothed heat rub against his growing bulge. 

“I need to ride you like I was dreaming of me doing for the past months.” Aaron’s fingers danced up her thighs, pushing her damp panties aside to tease her pulsing bundle. Her moans were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard, Aaron was sure of it – sounds he’d forever remember. 

“I don’t have anything on me.” His mumbled words left her humming, drawing her away from the kiss to reach for her small bag and the condom she had been carrying around with herself. Aaron let her fumble with the package while freeing his cock, giving himself a few tugs before (y/n) rolled the condom down his length. 

With their lips pressed together once again, (y/n) sank down on his cock, groaning as he stretched her all too perfectly. Both held still for a second, letting her adjust with fluttering walls before slowly raising her hips to fuck herself on his cock. Aaron and (y/n) moaned in unison, high on the feeling of him buried inside of her and the way she could feel him oh so deep. 

“Fuck, baby.” Aaron’s head rolled back, while his hazy eyes kept watching her. His big hands supported her movements, placed on her ass to keep her close. She looked thoroughly fucked out, happy to feel him this close as they got to know one another’s body for the first time. 

(Y/n) had one of her hands pressed against the window, trying to support herself while her limbs began to quiver. Aaron seemed to pick up on her trembling, letting his hips jerk upwards to fuck into her, needing to feel her cum around his cock. Curses left them both over and over again, blending together as they lost themselves in the different sensations. 

“Feels so good, don’t ever stop, please.” She was begging for more than she could handle at that time, and yet (y/n) didn’t find it in herself to care. She didn’t mind the overstimulation she was begging for, didn’t mind the desperation dripping from her words, all she cared about was both of them cumming together. 

“I’m so close, fuck, please Aaron.” The smirk tugging on his lips made her see stars, pushing her even closer to the edge.

“Touch yourself, baby, make yourself cum for me.” That’s all she needed to hear, allowing her fingers to rub her pulsing bundle to give her the needed push. She struggled to keep her eyes open, struggled to focus on anything but her nearing orgasm, all while Aaron kept holding onto her. 

And with one last whimper, (y/n) let herself fall into her orgasm. Her walls clenched his cock, pulling him in further while he pushed himself over the edge with a few more thrusts. (Y/n) was trembling in his grasp, holding still with her forehead pressed against his broad shoulder. 

“I,” a shaky exhale left her. “I am happy this finally pushed you over, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on with my feelings for you.” Her words left Aaron smiling, pulling her in for another kiss that left her heart fluttering. 

“You won’t ever have to worry about that again, sweetheart. I’m sorry it took me this long to realise.”

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm Masterlist

Summary: After working a long night at her job at the bar, Y/N finds herself in a situation where Negan is able to save her starting a complicated relationship between the two of them.

Chapters: (Ongoing)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 

Other Links:  

AO3 (Good Luck Charm)

[naughtyneganjdm]

Updated this masterlist since I was missing quite a few chapters.

[street-smarts00]

Weirdest Place

Spencer Reid x gen neutral!reader

Summary: The team finds out you and Spencer have been dating during a night out.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: this is yet another fic based on an episode of friends, specifically a scene from the blackout episode but i added a fun twist lol

Tags: conversations about sex but not smut, established relationship between r & reid, consumption of alcohol

After the team was finished at the BAU they all went out to a local bar for drinks. As the night went on JJ and Hotch left to be at home with their kids. With their boss gone and the tipsiness from their drinks, the topic of conversation got more and more inappropriate.

“A boat?” Rossi asked

“Yes,” Derek confirmed

“A boat?” Emily spoke this time.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Derek asked, slightly offended.

Emily raised her hands in defense, “It’s not that we don’t believe you.”

“It just seemed like your weirdest place would be a bit more adventurous based on how you brought it up,” Rossi voiced.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, “and a boat isn’t adventurous?”

“No it is,” Penelope chuckled before reaching for her drink. Of course, she’d already heard about Derek’s nautical escapades.

Derek directed his attention back to Emily, “And what about you? What’s your weirdest place?”

She leaned back in her seat with a tinge of embarrassment she tried to hide with smugness. “That’s classified,”

Rossi and Derek cringed at Emily’s diversion.

“Oh god,” Rossi chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Do I even wanna know?” Derek asked half joking.

Emily shrugged instead of answering. Derek decided he was better off not pushing Emily to share her story. He then brought his attention to the man across from him.

“What about you, pretty boy?”

Spencer’s head darted to him with raised eyebrows. “Me?”

“You got a weirdest place?”

“I- um.”

His ears started to turn a shade of crimson and he stuttered on his words, or lack thereof since he was caught off guard.

“It’s probably like a library or something,” Rossi jokes, earning a bright laugh from Derek.

Penelope set her drink down, “don’t make him say it if he doesn’t- “

“Actually it was.”

Everyone froze and turned to Spencer.

Emily was the first to speak, “What?”

Spencer shifted in his seat while the courage he had before started to dwindle. His face was now officially turning red.

“Me and um- someone were at the library because I was showing her it’s Edgar Allen Poe collection. Then at some point we ended up in … um the second floor bathroom.”

“Oh my god,” Penelope giggled before placing her hand on her mouth in shock.

“I can’t believe I was right,” Rossi commented.

“I can’t believe Spencer Reid was getting freaky in a library,” Derek said with a humorous grin.

“Shut up,” Spencer squeaked in a high pitched voice.

He hoped the topic of conversation would quickly be dropped so he didn’t have to reveal too much about his love life. But he suspected that wouldn’t happen once you came back to the table.

You and Spencer had started dating a few months prior and wanted to keep things to yourselves. You both intended to figure out the beginning of your relationship without the eyes of your friends.

“The line for the bathroom was so long,” you complained as you approached the table and sat down next to Spencer. “What did I miss?”

“Oh we never heard Y/N’s place,” Penelope excitedly pointed out.

You looked at her confused, “What place?”

“I have no clue how we got here but they all started talking about the weirdest places they’ve had sex,” Emily explained.

“Wow. Well, when I’m done I need to hear all of yours,” you pointed your glass in a motion towards all of them before drinking the last sip.

“I usually don’t venture outside the bedroom but out of the few times I have I think there’s two tied for first place.”

“What’s one of them?”

“Library.”

Silence fell over the group. Spencer’s stomach dropped to the floor at your answer. His face turned cherry red and his eyes remained frozen on the table in front of him.

You on the other hand were baffled at the reaction from your friends.

“What?”

While your eyes scanned the group you were met with relatively neutral expressions that didn’t match the growing tension in the air. All of them looked as if they wanted to say something, but not one of them was ready to speak.

Embarrassment and regret were creeping their way towards you in silence. Your body tensed up and you folded your arms in front of you.

“Come on guys, it's not that weird. It’s not like we were in an aisle, we were in the bathroom,” you tried to defend yourself.

That sentence seemed to spark something in the group. Their body language started to relax but still had a bit of hesitation. They all knew at this point, but they wanted you to confirm it.

“What floor?”

You followed the voice to Emily “Excuse me?”

“What floor was the bathroom on?”

You couldn’t wrap your head around her question.

“Why does that matter?”

“It does, which floor?” Penelope questioned this time.

“Second I think,” you hesitated, still confused.

“Oh my god!” Penelope squealed. “You guys are sleeping together?”

With your eyes wide, face hot, and heart pounding, you stared at her. Trying to figure out how a story like this was one they already heard. You forgot until now that they were already playing this game before you got back.

Turning to the side you playfully smacked Spencer’s arm. “You told them that?”

He gaped at you and grabbed his arm. Face still red of course now accompanied with a crack in his voice. “I didn’t think you were gonna tell them. I thought you would have talked about the other time.”

“Why would I tell them that?” You said in a quieter tone.

“What other time?” Derek interrupted, filled with curiosity.

Rossi pipped in next, “you said two places were tied for weirdest, what’s the other place?”

You and Spencer went quiet. You looked at each other before returning your gaze to the group.

“I think this is a great time to get a refill,” you grabbed your glass and stood up. “Spencer, coming with?”

He quickly scrambled to stand up, “Absolutely.”

The two of you made your way to the bar as your friends all started murmuring.

“So, you didn’t tell them you had sex on a plane?” He asked with a slight smirk.

“No, of course not!” You squealed which earned a laugh from him.

“Eventually they would’ve found out we’re dating and I didn’t want them to figure out it was on the jet,” you explained.

“It’s not like any of them were there,” he said before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I still don’t wanna get fired.”

[dearsherlocked]

Insomnia - A Sherlock Imagine (smut)

Hi! I hope this is fine! I had an idea in the back of my mind! ;)

Pairing : Sherlock x Reader

Warnings : Smut; English is not my first language

Masterlist

Sherlock was gazing into the void and felt the silence of the night grow heavier over time, under the incessant sound of the grandfather clock clicking in the next room and the country crickets creaking under the bushes in that overwhelming summer heat. There he was, sitting in the drawing room in this great ancestral home, places from London, along with John who was now sleeping upstairs. This house was the family home of Y/N, a young assassin with whom he now shared a mission, this being the only lodging they had found nearby when fate had called them not far from her natal village located in the south-east of the country. It was odd to imagine her growing up in such a place, had she been just a simple teenager once, far from this life she was now leading. She was a complicated woman, thought he. He couldn’t decipher her at all. One second he was absolutely smitten by her, the next he couldn’t bare her presence. But that was mutual, he knew it. But before he could think about it even more, he heard something, like someone knocking gently on the doorframe.

‘Insomnia?’ said a feminine voice.

It came from the doorway. The detective squinted; there she was, Y/N, dressed in a simple pair of black shorts and a top. Out of his torpor, he turned and faked a smile. He couldn’t tell if he was happy to see her or disappointed. 

‘Apparently,’ he simply answered, ruffling his hair nonchalantly.

‘I’m not keen on sleeping as well,’ she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. ‘What were you doing here all alone?’

Keep reading

[prins-maurice]

Strange Attractors - Ian Malcolm x Reader (smut)

Strange Attractors - The Lost World (4423 words) by WizardToad

Summary: After recovering from the events at Jurassic Park Ian Malcolm signs an NDA, reserving himself to the somewhat quiet life of teaching. When you show up, however, you turn his life upside down. Giving into desires you both know you shouldn't, while a man called Richard Levine keeps pestering him about a so-called Lost World. (Smut in chapter 3)

Chapter 1: That’s Plagiarism, Young Lady

His lips make their way over your shoulder as his hair tickles your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His hands roam freely over your curves. The aroma of his cologne mixed with the coffee on his breath envelops you. He grips your waist and lifts you up, setting you down on his desk. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him flush to your core as your lips meet once again. His hands squeeze your thighs at the sensation. Your hands slide over his black shirt, almost ripping the buttons open-.

You manage to shake out of your chaotician-induced hypnosis just in time to see the one and only Dr. Ian Malcolm squinting at you in the bright sunlight. Shit, the whole auditorium is looking at you, he must’ve asked you a question. He knows he caught you daydreaming and a self-satisfactory grin appears on his face. A single ray of sunshine creeps in through the window, shining right on the man in front of you. Paying attention to Professor Malcolm's lectures was never easy, but the way the golden rays reflect off the stray gray hairs on the side of his head is making it entirely impossible today. You haven't heard a single word the man has said, too sucked up in your daydream.

“If you recall, miss (Y/L/N), we were just talking about the ways in which self-organizing behaviours of complex systems are of interest to the study of evolution.” He gestures with his hand, urging you to continue.

Fuck, you really should’ve been paying attention. You were a good student, you really were, but he had caught you off-guard now. He loved tormenting you like that. Dr. Malcolm had been talking your ear off about this a few nights ago when you were reading some papers from a freshman course. Racking your brain for something to spew out, you remember a bit he said about adaptation and the way complex systems seem to strike a balance between the need for order and the imperative to change, locating themselves at the edge of chaos. He raises his eyebrows and smirks, satisfied with your answer. You mentally wipe the sweat from your forehead as he continues his lecture.

Malcolm’s is the last class on Friday evening so the students practically storm out of the auditorium the second it's over. You, however, still have TA duties to fulfill. You deeply regret agreeing to spend the evening working on some stuff in his office. It seemed like a good idea at the time, the two of you alone. You've had a major crush on your professor ever since you stepped foot in his class. Hell, it's the whole reason you applied to become his TA. But now it just felt silly, and you’d rather be in a bar getting shit-faced with your roommate. 

As the others stampede out like a herd of buffalo, you saunter over to his desk at the front. He’s still packing away his papers.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you copying me word for word. That’s plagiarism young lady” He teases, sending you a lopsided smile 

“Well you did put me on the spot, I had to say something” You lean against his desk, cracking your back. If they’re gonna make people sit in them for two hours, they really should make those damn chairs a bit more comfortable.

“Or maybe you should just pay attention to the lecture next time” He closes his bag and you roll your eyes. He pauses for a minute, thinking. The curiosity kills him, he has to ask. “What were you so preoccupied with?” He comes around the desk and leans next to you, the height difference even more apparent now. 

You feel your ears burning red, recalling the daydream you’d had earlier. You couldn’t tell him the truth, obviously. You scramble for something to say, managing to come up with “Oh, just this assignment for Dr. Thorne’s class. He’s making us solve one of his impossible engineering mysteries again, you know how he is.” You laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t inquire further about the non-existent assignment. He nods “Yeah, typical.” he hums. You let out a soft sigh of relief, he bought it. He swings his bag over his shoulder and ushers you toward his office “C'mon, we've got a lot of work to do tonight.”

As Dr. Malcolm’s TA, you were usually tasked with doing the shitty jobs he didn't want to do. You sometimes wonder why he even has a TA if he barely needs help with anything useful. So now you were stuck in his office, entering research data into the computer on his desk while your roommate was out partying. 

He paces the office with long strides, focused on the papers in his hand. He stares at them with a frown. "Can you believe this shit?" You look up from the computer, finger on the paper in front of you to keep track of the number you were just about to enter. 

"Douchebag" he mutters. 

"Everything okay Dr. Malcolm?"

He looks up at you, a glint in his eyes. He loves it when you call him Dr. Malcolm. He’d never admit it of course, but it made him feel strong and authoritative. For years after the park, he couldn’t go anywhere without his cane. He used to be known as the rock star scientist, and now people just looked at him with pity. Having to rely on others had made him feel weak, the way they looked at him as they helped him up, or held the door open for him, it drove him crazy. Everyone treated him like a sick puppy, except you. You still looked at him with that sense of wonder in your eyes, as if you couldn’t believe that you were standing in front of the great Dr. Malcolm, and he eats it up every time. It makes him feel like his work is still worth something. 

He appreciated that you never asked about this injury either. After the park, everyone involved signed an NDA, forced to keep quiet about what really went down in Costa Rica. Ever since then people haven’t stopped pestering them with their crazy conspiracy theories, some more accurate than others. Regardless, he had to keep to his story, and lie to the masses. Lie to you. His leg had been much better these days, though. He didn’t need his cane anymore, but he felt his reputation had been tarnished anyway.

"Remember that uh- scientist who interrupted my lecture last week? What's his name, uh- Levine. He's convinced there's a real Lost World somewhere." 

The Lost World hypothesis was one of the many theories scientists had come up with to try and answer the never-ending questions regarding the K-T extinction event. The hypothesis states that dinosaurs may never have fully gone extinct and that somewhere in the world, there's an isolated haven where there are still living, breathing dinosaurs. It's absurd, but then again most scientific theories are. 

"What? But that's just a theory. It's a fantasy."

"You don't have to tell me" he runs a hand through his hair sighing. You can tell he's bothered by it, maybe more than he should be, but you decide not to press it. 

"He wants me to help him research it. Find the supposed island, go on an expedition, the whole works. He's been bugging me about this theory all week but I didn't think he'd go this far."

"He's completely nuts." You shake your head.

"He's a pain in the ass is what he is" he grumbles, walking up to the desk and throwing the letter in the trash can. He leans on the back of your chair, hands nearly touching your neck making you shiver from the near-contact. You sigh audibly as you enter in the last data on this page, just seven more to go.

“You know what?” He suddenly exclaims, slapping the back of your chair ”We’ve done enough for tonight. We shouldn’t be holed up here all night. Go on home (Y/N)” You lean back in the chair, tilting your head all the way backward to look at him. “You’re the best, Dr. Malcolm. I think my fingers are about to fall off.” You sigh, your brows knit together. He laughs, turning the chair and shooing you out the door.

“Go on, go out and have fun or whatever young people do. See you Monday.”

“See you Monday Dr. Malcolm.” You wave him goodbye as you walk to your dorm. Your roommate had let you know which bar she was going to, and it was still early enough to quickly change and meet up with her there. Easy peasy, your Friday night could still be saved. 

- Chapter 2 -

[little-diable]

Possessive – Spencer Reid (smut)

This is just a quick smut drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Pwp, Spencer and the reader give in to their longings in the bathroom of a club

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, somewhat public smut, possessive / jealous Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (1.4k words)

“There he is.” Spencer rasped the words against the back of her neck. He was pressed against her, arms wrapped around her waist as they moved to the music. (Y/n) tried to tilt her head slowly, not wanting to grasp the attention of their unsub just yet. 

Goosebumps covered her body whenever Spencer’s breath fanned her skin, making her awfully aware of the crush she had tried to bury for years. There was no escaping the man, no running from Spencer Reid, she’d forever be his–if he’d only finally see through their back and forth. 

“Let me go to the bar.” She turned in his grasp, eyes finding his darkening ones. Spencer’s gaze flickered from her features to the unsub, who was leaning against the bar, eyes taking in the crowd of dancing people. (Y/n) could tell that something was holding Spencer back, not daring to loosen his grasp on her just yet. 

“I’ll be close, look at me if you need help.” Slowly, he let go of (y/n), unable to bite down a rather unsatisfied sigh. With her heart picking up its beat, (y/n) pushed her way through the crowd, eyes set on the man who hadn’t noticed her yet. 

With a few feet between her and the unsub, (y/n) pressed herself against the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention. The second she spoke up though, ordering herself a glass of water, she felt the man’s eyes on her, studying her from his spot. She could tell why other women have fallen for his appearance, he was handsome, tall, had something to him that drew other’s to him. 

It wasn’t the first time they were doing something like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, yet she still wasn’t used to this, unable to shake her nerves. Her heart began to race once again as she watched the man walk towards her with a smirk glued to his lips and something almost dangerous swimming in his pupils. 

Even though she knew that Spencer and the rest of their team were close, ready to step in any moment now, (y/n) could only hope that she’d make it out of this alive. 

With a fake smile tugging on her lips, she took a sip of her water. The man was almost towering over her, staring down on (y/n) as if he was already imagining the things he wanted to do to her, the torture, the pain, the drawn blood. Thoughts and longings that wouldn’t turn real, that much she could promise herself.

“You’re pretty.” It was a simple sentence, a compliment she paid no attention to as her eyes zoned in on the spots on his neck, dried drops of blood or so it seemed. A shudder buzzed down her spine, while she tried to keep smiling, giving in to the man’s game to cozy him along. 

“Thank you, that’s sweet of you.” She kept staring into his eyes, wondering how many gruesome things they had seen, things he had done with his own two hands. (Y/n) tried to think of something else she could say, anything to lure him further into the trap she wanted to lay out for him, but she didn't get far. 

Gently though urgently she was pulled out of the way as she watched Aaron and Derek push past her to handcuff the guy. Confusion began to spread through her as she turned towards Spencer, who had pulled her against his chest. No words were spoken between them as he began to pull her away from their team, knowing that they wouldn’t pay any attention to the two of them for a while. 

“Where are we going?” Her laugh got stuck in her throat as Spencer pushed her into one of the bathrooms, locking the door behind them. She got no chance to speak up again, silenced by the lips finding hers rather urgently. 

Spencer pressed her against the door while his hands found their way from her waist to the back of her thighs to pick her up. Without breaking the kiss, he placed her down on the sink, guided by their longings, the need to touch one another neither had been able to communicate for the past years. 

“Spencer,” (y/n) moaned his name. His lips kissed their way down her throat while his hands pushed her dress further up to her waist, only to brush his fingertips over the damp fabric of her panties. “What are we doing here?”

“Seeing him this close to you is something I never want to experience again. You’re mine and I’m so sorry it took me this long to realise.” Her heart skipped an excited beat, leaving her chuckling against his lips before kissing him again - more urgently. (Y/n)’s fingers got tangled in his curls, tugging on them to try and pull him even closer, needing to feel every part he was willing to offer.

“Fuck me, Spencer, make me yours.” (Y/n)’s moaned words were enough to urge him on, letting his fingers pull her panties aside to properly touch her. Their moans blurred together, filling the small bathroom without a care, knowing that whoever would walk past this room would instantly know what they’re doing. 

He gave himself a few moments to explore her heat, to circle her pulsing bundle with his soft fingertips before he pulled away. They held eye contact as he pulled her off the sink and turned her around, catching her hazy gaze through the mirror. Spencer fumbled with his trousers to free his cock while (y/n) allowed herself to intently study him and herself, fuelled by the excitement of finally being fucked by the man she had loved for years. 

Spencer spat into his palm to lube himself up before he positioned himself at her entrance. Slowly, he pushed into her as he watched her eyes flutter close in pleasure. Her walls pulsed around him, while she tried to stop her moans from ripping through her. With one hand placed on her waist, the other found her throat to force (y/n) to keep on looking at him through the mirror. 

“From now on, I’ll be the only one to fuck you, you’re mine, only mine.” His hips met her behind with every thrust, burying himself deeper and deeper inside of her. This moment felt surreal almost, torn between different emotions and the need to express them through touches that were laced with love and lust. 

“Only yours, I promise.” (Y/n) was close to sobbing her words. She tightened her grip on the sink, desperate to hold onto something while she was about to lose her balance. Her thighs were shaking, her body unable to support her much longer with an intense orgasm about to wash through her. 

Spencer tightened his grip on her throat as her eyes began to flutter shut again, unable to keep them open any longer. She was forced to hold eye contact while her orgasm creeped closer, drawing tears of desperation to her eyes. Both felt as if they were floating, weightless almost while giving in to logins neither had dared to ever put into words. 

“Beg for it, let me hear how much you need to cum.” His rasped command drew another moan from (y/n). It took her a handful of seconds to find her voice, to find enough strength to speak. 

“I need to cum, please Spencer, let me cum for you.” Only a hum managed to leave him, giving her the needed push to cum around his cock. Spencer kept moving as she choked on her moans, letting her knuckles turn a few shades lighter while trying to hold on. 

He pulled out of her seconds before he could cum, only to cum on her behind with a deep groan. Both were panting, holding eye contact through the mirror with glistening pupils and slightly parted lips. Spencer turned her around to push another soft kiss against her lips, hands placed on her waist. 

And with another smile thrown his way, (y/n) knew that this was something that would hold forever.

[little-diable]

Sweetness – Carlisle Cullen (smut)

We just love daddy Carlisle in this household. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Carlisle and the reader finally give in to the longing they had felt for years. Pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, just oral (f) though, Carlisle is a dick at the beginning, some fluff, friends to lovers

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader (1.5k words)

“(Y/n)!” Anger dripped from his voice as he called for her. Her eyes were ripped from the file she was reading, rechecking the report before she could send it off. Slowly, her eyes wandered towards Doctor Cullen’s open door, waiting for him to keep on speaking. But all he did was call out her name again, forcing her towards his office with cautious steps.

Ever since last night, he had seemed off, more stressed and agitated than normal. Something must have happened at home, something that drew snappish words, loud commands, and unfriendly comments from the lips she had felt pressed against hers only last week. 

“Yes?” She stood in the doorframe with her hands interlaced in front of her. Ever since their shared kiss, a weird atmosphere had grown between them, something neither of them had spoken about in the past days. Perhaps he regretted the kiss they had shared in the middle of the night, while working on patient files together; perhaps he simply didn’t feel the same emotions she had struggled to adjust to these past years. Whatever it was, it left her feeling uneasy. 

“Where is the Jensen file?” His desk was covered with files, a mess that made her heart ache at the thought of having to sort this in a few minutes as he’d leave for his next consultation. He wasn’t one to leave behind a mess for her to take care of, and yet, every now and then, he seemed to drown in the numerous files he had to go through, begging her for help whenever he lost control. 

“I left it on top of these files this morning.” She stepped towards his desk, ready to sort through the files. 

“Well, it isn’t there. So where else could you have put it? Did you even work on it?” The accusatorial tone of his voice left her frozen, wide eyes finding his angry ones. Her heart ached in her chest at his words, she wasn’t used to being treated like that by him, the man she considered her closest friend–at least until last week.

“What exactly are you implying?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while matching the tone of his voice. Both stared at one another for a few moments before a sigh clawed through him, forcing him to close his eyes. (Y/n) studied him, he looked exhausted, tired even–something she hadn’t ever picked up around him before, something must clearly be wrong. 

Without saying another word, (y/n) turned back towards the door to close it, knowing that they needed some privacy. Carlisle’s golden eyes followed her every move, he watched her walk back towards his desk, watched her shuffle through the files for a second before finding the one he had been searching for. A quiet “Thank you” left the doctor as he took the file from her hand, letting it drop to his lap before reaching his hand out for (y/n) to take.

She needed a handful of seconds before giving in, allowing Carlisle to pull her towards him. With her standing between her thighs, both clung to the silence wrapping itself around them for a moment. (Y/n) had to fight against the need to comb her fingers through his hair, wanting to offer the comfort he seemed to desperately need. 

“There are some things we should talk about, can you stay for a while longer today?” Her heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at her. His eyes were filled with different emotions, uncertainty and confusion she felt just as much, but yet all she managed to do was nod her head. 

And with one last sigh, he let go of her, watching (y/n) find her way back to her desk with a slight tremble.

……

“You’re godsent, thank you for this.” Carlisle plopped down on his chair as he admired the way she had cleaned up his mess. It had been a long consultation, robbing the usually calm and collected doctor of his last nerve, something only (y/n) could now restore. She was sitting on the small couch with her gaze focused on his handsome features as she waited for him to keep on speaking. 

“I think I overstepped last week. It feels like I took advantage of a situation and pressured you to kiss me.” He avoided her gaze as he spoke his words, clearly emanating what he was struggling to fight through. She whispered his name, tried to catch his gaze though without any luck. Slowly, (y/n) rose to her feet to find her way to him.

“You didn’t pressure me, Carlisle. I enjoyed the kiss, and I know you did too.” Her heart ached at the pained expression crossing his features. Carlisle was clearly fighting something he struggled to put into words, unsure how to let her in on whatever he was currently going up against. With a sigh, (y/n) reached for his chin, she tilted it upwards so that Carlisle had to get lost in her gaze 

“I always struggled to stay away from you, but now,” he didn’t finish his sentence. All Carlisle could do was stare at her as (y/n) tilted her head down to kiss him. It didn’t take him long to snap into motion, to pull her into his lap with strong hands placed on her waist. He could hear her racing heart, could hear the blood rushing through her body, could hear the excitement she was held hostage by. 

Their back and forth had started years ago when they had first met, forming a strange bond that had lured (y/n) right into his trap. She’d follow the doctor wherever he’d go, unable to part from him. And he’d never be strong enough to let her go, a selfish need neither could shake. 

“Carlisle,” (y/n) choked on his name as she pushed herself closer, letting her heat rub against his bulge. She had always felt that need to be touched by him, hoping that one day she’d be fortunate enough to feel his hands on her body. 

“Talk to me, love, what do you want?” He parted from (y/n) to look at her, to stare at the woman who was straddling his lap. Her lips were swollen, her eyes were filled with a longing so strong, Carlisle couldn’t help but feel pride simmer deep inside of him. He’d be the only one to make her feel like this from now on, the only one to touch and cherish her. 

“I need you, always have.” The satisfied hum that left him almost managed to drown out her gasp as he rose to his feet only to place her down on his desk. They held eye contact as he tugged her trousers down her legs, exposing her soaked panties to his darkening eyes. With both arms wrapped around her thighs, Carlisle kissed his way up to her core, leaving her trembling in anticipation before he pushed her panties aside. 

“You’re gorgeous.” His praise left her moaning, she tried to shuffle even closer, needing to feel his tongue on her heat. (Y/n)’s hands instantly found his bright hair as he finally let his tongue brush through her slit, groaning at her taste. She couldn’t hold back her sounds, couldn’t force herself to stay quiet as he ate her out with an unfamiliar passion.

She felt weightless, thrown into another dimension as the man she had been crushing on for years finally touched her. It was better than imagined, more passionate, more raw, more intimate. Something about the feeling of his cold fingers on her warm skin made her tremble even stronger, adding a new kind of intensity. 

His name kept leaving (y/n), a sound that reverberated through his office, followed by the satisfied moans he couldn’t hold back. It was a sinful mixture, a mixture so intense, she feared she’ll never be able to rip herself free again. Her heart was Carlisle’s, he could have her forever if he’d want. 

“Fuck, love, look at you, you temptation.” He growled the words against her skin, let his fingers circle her clit while his tongue pushed into her tightness. Her walls fluttered around his strong muscle, pulling him even closer as her orgasm was about to thump through her. She could only moan his name, could only arch her back with trembling thighs and a racing heart. 

His mouth found her pulsing bundle as he let two of his cold fingers explore her tightness. He curled his fingers against her swollen spot, and with one last flicker of his tongue, (y/n) came for him. She couldn’t hold back her moans, couldn’t stop herself from giving into the most powerful orgasm she had felt in years.

“Jesus fuck, Carlisle.” Her panted words left him chuckling. Slowly he let go of her, only to pull her into his lap with his strong arms. With her head resting on his chest, (y/n) tried to come down from her high, while cuddling herself even closer to him.

“We’ll have to do that again.” (Y/n) mumbled against his shirt, words that left him chuckling louder than anticipated. And with a kiss pressed to her forehead, she knew that everything would be alright, he’d hold onto her for as long as she’d let him.

[prins-maurice]

That's- that's Chaos Theory (Ian Malcolm × reader) ⚠️ NSFW +18 ⚠️

...

Sitting in the backseat of the land cruiser, you watch as the Tyrannosaurus rips herself a way through the fence, biting through the electric wires. Gennaro had just run out of the first car, leaving the kids to fend for themselves. "She's not getting electrocuted, why isn't she getting electrocuted?" You say panicked. In the front seats were Dr. Grant and Dr Malcolm, neither of them answering your question because the answer was clear. The power was off, and that included the paddocks’ fences. The rex, and any dinosaur in the park for that matter, had free reign. The three of you froze in fear as the big animal strode toward the first Landcruiser.

The T-Rex stood between the two cars and let out a bellowing roar. Your brain was scrambling to make any sense of the thousands of thoughts flashing through your head. And somehow, for whatever reason, the only thing you managed to sputter out was a tiny "I don't wanna die a virgin". The chaotician couldn't help but snort and raise his eyebrow at your remark.

...

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

Hello! Saw that you’re look for Ian Malcolm requests. Any era just reader admiring him with their kids. You can make it smut if you want but I’m not picky.

Domestic Bliss (Ian Malcolm x Reader)

An: You have no idea how happy I am to have gotten this request! I’m literally in love with this fucker. Also, this fic takes place right before Jurassic World Dominion. So, if you haven’t seen that don’t read this.

Summary: You have to admit, moving to the research center hadn’t been the worst idea

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR JURASSIC WORLD DOMINION!!

Taglist: @fiskers7136 @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @bellalutionn @xkennyxomegax @tummyyellin @cuzimacomedian @auburnwrites @damnnhausen (I know you all are wrestling fans, but I’m a simp so you are all being tagged)

If you were honest, you didn’t think anything would take you near a Dinosaur voluntarily again. Your biggest regret was helping create the damn things years ago, and they had almost killed you multiple times. When Jurassic World opened you had openly criticized it, and when the debate on if they should be protected came up you were strongly for letting them die.

And yet, you round yourself living at another research facility for the beasts. This time you had simply brought your two children, David who was 4 and Ell who was a year.

When Ian first brought up the idea of going you had shut it down immediately. You didn’t care how advance the security system was, you had thought you were safe once too and you didn’t want your kids in danger. But over time he wore you down, just like he always did when he wanted something. Eventually you agreed to go, so your family packed up and made the move.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the moment you saw a dinosaur again you felt like you were seeing them for the first time all over again.

As soon as you landed the owner of InGen greeted you, and showed you where you would be living for the foreseeable future.

“ stegosaurus”

“Very good. And what do they eat?”

“Plants.” You watched from the couch as Ian held up one of the toy dinosaurs up to David.

“And this one?” He held up another, continuing to quiz the young child. Ell, who was learning to walk and using him as a stabilizer, leaned forward, trying to grab one of the toys.

“You want one too?” Ian lifted her to sit in his lap, and once she could reach she quickly grabbed the t-Rex and brought it to his mouth.

“Ell, you can’t eat the y-Rex! He’s the big one!” David exclaimed.

“I wouldn’t say the big one.” You cut in, sliding down to sit next to your husband. “Technically the ‘big one’ would be the brontosaurus. The t-Rex is just the meanest.” You explained.

“But Ell still can’t eat him!” He whined. Ell, as though knowing her brother was making fun of her, stoped chewing on the toy and threw it to the ground. “Here Ell, you be the Stegosaurus and I’ll be the triceratops. Then we can fight.”

“I’ve taught you nothing!” You threw your arms up as you’d stood, making Ian laugh at you. ”oh shush.” You lightly kicked him as you walked over to the small kitchen.

“Hey!” He set Ell on the ground and stood up, walking over to where you were.

“Tea?” You asked, turning to make some once he nodded. “When is your next lecture?”

“I don’t have any for the rest of today or tomorrow.” He told you, letting his hand run through his hair. As much as you missed the brown curls you had loved so much, you definitely liked the slicked back gray look.

“You know, I wonder what people would say if they saw the sarcastic asshole known as Dr. Malcolm playing dinosaurs on the floor with a 4 year old.” You chuckled, handing him is cup of tea before sitting next to him at the kitchen bar.

“I think we could give Grant a good heart attack.” You smiled at his joke, but looked down at the liquid in your cup.

“Hey, thank you.” You turned to give him a questioning look. “You didn’t want to come here, yet you did. I know you never wanted to see one again, so thank you.” He admitted. You always treasured these moments with Ian. Even though you had been married for years he wasn’t the type to be serious.

“I have to admit it hasn’t been all that bad. I think we’ve spent more time all together since coming here, and the kids love it so much.” You explained. “But you owe me.” You pointed at him. He he leaned forward, pulling you into a kiss. It wasn’t super long, but it had the promise of something more behind it.

“Baby, I think I have just the idea on how to pay you back.” He winked at you, but before he could kiss you again the door to your apartment opened.

“Dr. Malcolm?” You both turned to see a man standing in your door way.

“A bit busy Ramsay.” He tried dismissing the boy, but he didn’t leave.

“I really need to talk to you.”

“And I’m about to have sex with my wife. Your point.” You lightly slapped Ian, slightly embarrassed by his words.

“It’s about the lotus.” Ian final pulled away and looked over at him.

“Fine,” he stood and gave you another quick kiss. “Be back to finish in a bit.”

[toaster-kookie]

nsfw head canons of ian malcolm before I write his lil drabble !!

content: mindless smutty ideas with barely any thought put behind them at 2 am, pet names, sexual topics, vulgar language ??, I'll edit this when I'm more awake

NSFW under the gif - minors go away !

- he's an ass / thigh man. no this isn't up for debate and I'll explain why in a moment

- Ian's the kind of guy to worship the body of his partner, although he'd be the dominant one, he'll be on his knees kissing and biting your thighs all horny and eager to fuck you

- MY GOD. he cannot control himself if you call him sir, he likes respect but "sir ? please ?" holy shit, this man isn't normal when it comes to that title <3

- Ian's the kind of guy that when it comes to sex, he'll make it so slow, sensual, and enjoyable. he knows how to fuck. he knows where the clit is. (BAHAJAJA EVEN I COULDN'T WRITE THAT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE)

- Ian likes it when you sit on his face. no, I'm not adding more, that's the only thought

- he seems like he'll call you dear, but like, he'll say it in such a pretty voice <3

- He's into light bondage and when I say light, I MEAN LIGHT ?? It's like experimental for him, he'll use a tie to tie you up or he'll use a blindfold to make everything else so sensitive.. teehee

- When he's in the mood, he has this certain voice ? It's like cocky but like an "oh I know" kinda voice ? it isn't sarcastic, it's confident

- He'll groan and let out small lil pathetic moans when he's kissing all over your body

- When he leaves hickies, he's always so like ?? "oh,, wonder how you got those dear ?" and laugh, like, play dumb in a cute way !!

kk I think I'm done for tonight <3 I'll revise this post whenever I wake up <3 nighty night <3

[lolahauri]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when you touch me i die just a little inside

My brain is completely flooded with jumbled scenarios of Ian, so let me just ramble and get this out here before I explode 😩 no proof reading and no warnings btw, someday soon ill rewrite this better, but for now this is what yall get 🥴

-

Just imagine him being your mathematics professor. he's in his early forties, you're in your early-mid twenties. you've always had a thing for older men, and them being an authority figure only made the fantasies more exciting.

you noticed after some months of being in his class, he seemed to start eyeing you more. lingering gazes cast in your direction were becoming increasingly noticeable. he always asked your thoughts on the subject being taught first. he praised your papers and projects much more than the other students.

you wondered if you were being delusional, or if maybe you actually had a chance...

you wanted to test him and see if your suspicions were correct, but without being too obvious, of course. so to start, you began wearing short skirts more often, maybe with a sweater on top so it didn't seem so clear you were trying to show some skin. you took note of how he looked directly at your legs every time you strolled into class with a miniskirt. you couldn't see after you turned your back, but man he couldn't take his eyes off of them until you got to your seat.

after a couple weeks, you moved your spot to the front row, closer to his main desk. occasionally, when he was up at the board, looking out to the class, you'd switch your crossed legs to the other side. spreading them just enough that he could catch a glimpse of your lace panties. you knew you caught him in the act when he began to clear his throat profusely afterwards, refusing to look you in the eyes for the rest of the day.

you continued to amp up your little game until you were sure you could make a move. but before you could, he did.

-

class was out for the day, you were the last student to get your things packed and ready to leave. before you could head out the door though, Dr. Malcolm called out to you.

"Uh, Ms. [L/N]?" you turned to look at him, his face was serious. your stomach dropped, shit, what if the teasing wasn't affecting him the way you thought it was?

"Oh- um. yes, professor?" you were trying to play it cool, maybe he'd buy the 'i had no idea' act if you pitched it well enough.

"would you, uh, mind seeing me in my office for a sec?"

"of course! yes..." you walked with him to a door near the corner of his room, hands beginning to tremble a bit. as you entered, he walked in behind you and... locked the door?

before you could ask what this was about, he roughly grabbed your cheeks in one hand, tilting your head up to force eye contact with you.

"do you have something you wanna tell me, Ms. [L/N]" heat pooled in your stomach immediately as his deep brown eyes pierced into yours "you wanna explain this - this little game you've playing? huh?" he squeezed your soft face a little harder, lips slowly inching towards you.

"Sir, i-"

"what? you- you think I didn't notice what you were doing? wearing these little, uh, short skirts, spreadin' your legs right in front me everyday." his voice raised a bit, but oddly enough, he didn't exactly sound angry. it must be the sexual frustration coming out.

and maybe this wasn't the time to be bold, but you couldn't hold back anymore, you needed him now.

"maybe I wanted you to notice, professor."

he smirked down at you, wrapping a strong arm around your back "oh, really? well, uh, you got my attention now sweetheart."

oh, it's game on.

both of you leaned forward to quickly close the gap between your mouths. your lips fit together like puzzle pieces, your head was spinning as you reached up to snake your arms around his neck. he's so tall...

a surprised noise came out of you as he leaned down to pick you up, one arm under your ass, the other still on your back, pressing you into his body firmly. the kiss quickly deepened, he slid his tongue past your lips, swirling it around your own as you moaned into his mouth.

ian stumbles forward a bit, carefully finding the table in the room and lying you down on it, pulling away from the kiss briefly.

"you, uh, wanna take this further sweetheart?" he grinned down at you, his arms caging your head in.

"god, yes" you breathed out, wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him into another kiss.

he chuckled against your lips, not wasting any time to run a large hand up both your top and skirt. one hand was grabbing your breast as the other worked to pull your panties down. usually he'd prep a woman more before fucking her, but you've worked him up so much he can't wait any longer.

ian pulled back once again, hastily undoing his belt. you watched in awe as he pulled his pants down, just far enough to let his long cock spring out. he let out a breathy laugh, "like what you see?"

under normal circumstances you'd be embarrassed, but you were so turned on and dazed all you could do was nod, slowly lifting your gaze back to his eyes.

he stepped forward and bent down slightly to align his hips with yours, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist. you were breathing heavily as his tip grazed your hole, dripping wet and ready to be fucked.

"are you, um, are you sure you wanna do this? i can stop-"

"just fuck me already, please" you interrupted, you weren't trying to be rude, but you're getting seriously desperate right now.

"shit..." he mutters under his breathe, quickly following your orders and slipping himself in. he was big, but there was no resistance at all from your slick pussy.

ian set a quick, but gentle pace, not wanting to be too rough too fast. you were both filling the small space with moans and groans, getting dangerously loud considering the building you're in. but neither of you could honestly care right now, this felt way too good to hold back.

you gripped onto his biceps tightly, trying to keep yourself stable and grounded. with every thrust he was hitting that spot inside you that made your knees weak, you let out a couple broken whines after he hit your sweet spot particularly hard.

he groaned at the feeling your nails digging into his arms, he loved seeing the affect he had on you. ian picked up the intensity, brutally shoving his hips forward and pounding into you at an almost painful degree.

you were practically screaming his name now, steadily building up to your climax. you could tell he was getting close too, his breathing was heavy and ragged, droplets of sweat running down his forehead.

"Ian, -fuck- please cum in me, please." you sobbed out the sentence, moaning after every thrust. your pussy clenched around him as your orgasm began to erupt. the feeling spread over your entire body, sending jolts of electricity through your nervous system, thighs quivering around his torso as your juices coated his cock.

"oh shit-" ian threw his head back at the sensation, following right behind you as his thrusts became sloppy and irregular, filling you to the brim with his cum as he groaned loudly. he fucked into you a few more times, riding out your orgasms until you were both on the verge of overstimulation.

he stayed inside you for a moment, catching his breath and letting you calm down from the high. soon though, you both sighed as he pulled out, letting his fresh load pour out of you and onto the table, making a complete mess. the sight was truly obscene, but in the best way possible.

you two might need to make a habit of this...

[toomanybandstocare]

{Getting Through the Day}

Program: The first day of the new school year and semester sits heavy in you. Scorching heat from the summer heat wave and Ian's fleeting touches drive you insane through the day. All you can do it throw it back at him and hope to last until you can escape to his apartment for the weekend.

Pairing: Professor! Ian Malcolm x College Junior, GN! Reader

Genre: Slowburn NSFW, Requested -> Minors Do Not Interact

Length: 6394w

Warnings: Pet Names (Honey, Sweetheart, Baby, Brat), Light impact play (happens once), No genitalia mentioned with reader, Grinding, No protection, Ian mocks reader to tease them, Fingering, Making out, Swears I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything

Counselor Notes: Thank you for my first request!! I'm pretty happy with how this turned out :) This sort of goes along with this thought I had and happens later in the time line. I'll explain better when I actually start writing my Professor! Ian Malcolm stuff.

Camp Isla Nublar Masterlist

Your chest heaves with every step you take as you rush from one building to the next to make it to your next meeting in time. Clutching on your bag’s strap, you hurl yourself across campus as flowers bloom across the small gardens and classmates lounge on the grass. Why did they insist on meeting in the campus center when you shared class not an hour earlier in the same building you were just in? You huff and shake your head in frustration as you near the center, tunnel vision locked on the doors where students, faculty, and staff flow through. Of course your second class would run long the one day you’re back to back with meetings and classes.

Determination fuels your speed as you round the corner to navigate closer to the entrance. Nearly there, just steps away, when a strong chest blocks your path and sends you fumbling backwards. Anxiety flares as you try to catch your balance, books and papers flying out of your hands. The warm smell of smoke and leather engulfs you when the person wraps their arm around your waist.

“You alright there, kid?” Ian’s voice hums lowly as one hand supports your lower back. His palm presses into you to hold you up and sends warm waves across your body.

“Yeah, thanks Dr. Malcolm,” you mutter. Trying to catch your breath, Ian’s growing smirk leaves you even more lightheaded than the collision. Tiny tingles nip at your skin where his fingers dig into you. You wet your lip before darting your nervous gaze to meet his amused look, “I’m sorry for knocking into you- I’m running late for a capstone meeting”.

You shift your weight from one leg to the other when Ian drops down to the ground and peers up at you behind his sunglasses. Gathering your spilt papers, Ian’s shoulder momentarily grazes against your leg when he rises. His hot breath fans across your jaw when he leans down to your ear, “Now, I’ve seen you go dumb, honey. Need you to be on your best behavior if you want to come over tonight”.

Lightly dropping your papers into your outreached hand, Ian’s dark eyes peer over his glasses as he addresses you: “It’s not like you to be so distracted. Be careful where your head’s at, alright?”

Motioning for the other professors to move forward, Ian sneaks a small squeeze to your shoulder. His touch ignites bristles of sparks to span across you and only intensifies when he  shoots a cheeky wink at you when he follows his colleagues. 

You have to bite back your smile as you fall slightly behind the group. Finding your footing once more, you make your way to the center’s entrance and hurry to catch up as Ian holds the door open for the faculty. Just as he’s about to enter himself, you press past him in the doorway. Your free hand lingers against his lower stomach, and you can feel his breath hitch under your light touch.

Craning your neck to look at him over your shoulder, you shoot him a teasing smile. “Thanks, professor. It’s so kind of you to always lend a,” you pause slightly and watch his jaw clench, “helping hand to students”. You laugh as Ian shakes his head in disbelief and follows you into the building, just one step behind you.

Before you both part ways, Ian brushes past you and mutters low enough for you only to hear, “Behave”.

Watching Ian’s back walk away, you press your thighs together trying to relieve the growing burn stirring inside you. This was going to be a long day, and it’s barely approaching mid-morning. You will yourself to walk up the side staircase as your thoughts race causing a flush to burn across your skin. A night with Ian Malcolm leaves little and everything to the imagination all at once. 

Maybe, you wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom this time as the two of you put on a show for anyone who looks out their window and catches a glimpse into his apartment living room. Curtains wide open without a care for anyone who could easily watch as Ian leaves his mark on your neck and pulls a devastated moan from your lips when he moves away. Splayed out on the couch as he throws off his jacket and settles between your legs, pressing searing kisses from your hip bone down your thigh and ghost over your pubic bone. 

Or would it be a rendez-vous of fleeting touches? A soft night of featherlike touches tracing the planes and dips of your body while worn record plays in the background. Both of you pull each other as close as possible to feel how you fit together perfectly. Quiet begs for more mix with groans of admiration as you take him so well. His treasure, kept hidden away all for himself to enjoy.

Your body light burns in excitement as the possibilities float through your mind, unable to pull yourself away to join your group’s discussion as you sit down with them. It’s not until the faint snapping sound jolts you from your daydreams, that you recognize everyone’s concerned gazes face you. “Sorry, stuck in my head,” you weakly deflect and clear your throat, “What’s up?”

“We were just asking if you had any suggestions for the project? Now I’m worried that you're getting sick though, you look like you’re on fire,” Laura explains, lowering her hand from your ear.

Your cheeks burn as embarrassment and lingering anticipation mix in your stomach, “‘S fucking hot out there, and I hauled ass to try to get here on time. Didn’t do me any good as I nearly took someone out when I ran into them. I promise, I’m good,” you vaguely deflect, “Frat flu has not got the best of me yet”.

Everyone groans and chats about hangover cures as well as home remedies they swear fixes frat flu like nothing else. Taking a deep breath, you slide further into your seat and chuckle under your breath. No way in hell Ian Malcolm was going to be the death of you. You can’t feed his ego that much.

The morning slowly creeps forwards towards lunch time and every tick of the clock makes you squirm in your seat. Your leg bounces as your feeble attempts to end the ongoing debate about what archaeological dig your group will focus on for the semester. Ian only has so much free time when you’re both on campus, and you weren’t going to let a dragging battle of intellect get in the way of seeing him. 

“Okay,” you rest your hands on the table and stand up to direct everyone’s attention towards you, “Clearly, this isn’t going anywhere, or at least not if we keep going at it like this. I propose a vote. We’ve already done the pros and cons of each site, so everyone is well aware of what each would entail in regards to research topics”. 

You look around the table, leaving no room to disagree, “I’m getting fucking hungry, and trust me. You do not want to see me hangry. So, votes for Chichén Itzá?” You raise your hand alongside three bashful hands raise, and you nod your head in acknowledgement. “And votes for Domus Aurea,” you follow. Laura shares a small waze as the sole supporter of this site. “Alright, if we don’t get our first pick, are the rest of you okay with choosing Domus Aurea as a back up?”

“We can rank Caral as our third interest as well,” Marcus suggests as Katherine and Neo agree.

“Perfect,” you exclaim and hurriedly grab your belongings, “Now, if you’ll excuse me”. You rush out of the common space and fly down the staircase to make it to Ian’s office in time before his next lecture.

Breaking through the campus center doors, you run past the herd of oncoming traffic as the class hour ends. Shuffling feet trip you as backpacks bump against your shoulders. You push through the crowd and run past the humanities building with its tranquil fountain. The science building stands proud amongst the club tables calling over students to find new recruits. Rounding the corner, you see the mathematics building come into sight and pick up your pace. You launch yourself past all the idle students blocking the entrance and rush down the stairs to the faculty offices. The closer you get to seeing Ian, the more your stomach twists and tingles. Giddiness puts a leap in your step as you finally reach the warm, oak door adorned with a golden nameplate: Dr. Ian Malcolm, Mathematics and Chaos Theory.

You knock on the door and relief floods you when Ian’s muffled voice calls you in. Stepping inside, you’re greeted by the familiar bookshelf walls and teetering piles of paper on the floor. Ian has his head in his hands leaning on the desk directly in front of you with rays of afternoon summer streaming through the window wall behind him. Although you’re buzzing from his presence once again, concern crashes down onto you.

“Ian,” you call out as you carefully walk towards the arm chairs just before his desk. You place your bag onto one of them before you hesitantly move around the desk to get closer to him. Slowly reaching your hand out to see if he’s okay, your stomach drops as Ian pulls you into his lap suddenly. The room fills with your shrieks and his laughter as you try to escape his hold.

His arms securely wrap around you and hold you tight against his chest as he looks up at you with a cocky smile. “Well, if this isn’t a lovely surprise,” he drawls. His arms relax as his hands slide to rest on your hips and greedily squeeze your body. His fingertips dig into your skin and reignite the spark teasing your body.

“Ian, you asshole.” you push against his shoulders and arch your back away from him. A small whimper breaks past your lips when you push against his lap. “Fuck, I was worried,” you swallow as his lips trail acros your collarbone. Shutting your eyes, you let his touch take over you completely. The coarse calluses that tease your skin underneath your top. How his jeans send shockwaves through you as he manhandles you. You can feel the faint outline of his prideful smirk when he presses his face against the crook of your neck.

“How mean of me,” Ian mocks you, “Been good so far, honey?”

His hands guide your hips to slowly rock against his lap while he sucks a mark on the sensitive spot on your neck. Ian scatters scorching kisses up the column of your neck and lightly bites down where your jaw meets your ear. Dragging a small moan from you, Ian darkly chuckles and nudges your cheek with his nose.

“Asked you a question, sweetheart,” Ian pulls you harshly against the growing outline of his bulge.

“Yes, fuck,” you gasp. Your eyes fly open and meet his curious gaze. Fucking asshole thinks he has the upper hand- think again.

“My project group is annoying as shit,” you hiss as you grind down on him. Ian’s hands grip you harder as he groans. “They spent two goddamn hours arguing over what site to research for the semester,” you gasp when he bucks into you, “Only to meet a majority vote on the first site I brought up”. You move your hands to tangle them in his hair and tug on it. His moan courses through you and grows as you speed up your movements. “I swear to fucking god, Ian, I’m going to lose it if I have to make every fucking decision for this class,” you pant against his lips.

“Good thing I’m here to help relieve some stress,” he breathes out chasing after your mouth. Desperate for a taste.

Your legs start to shake as you near your ogasm, and you can’t help but give into Ian just a little. Selfish to feel his lips on your own after so many days apart. His teeth clash with your own as the two of you fight for control. Your mind feels hazy from the overwhelming heat stinging you.

Ian paws at your hips trying to hold himself back and reign you in. Normally cool and collected, desire makes him a mess underneath you. He growls into your mouth as he ruts up into you. His hard on presses against you and hits you with pangs of pleasure. Your content noises spur him further to push each of you over the edge. The small touches from this morning did nothing but linger in the back of his mind. Teasing him as he imagined how nice you would look on your knees for him underneath the conference room table during his meeting. 

Ian hastily pulls at your waist band, “How about it, honey? Gonna let me take care of you?”

Just as he’s about to pull the button free, you push yourself off his lap. Breathing heavily, you look down at him in fake care, “You have a one o’clock meeting, Dr, Malcolm. I would have to make you late”. You laugh at his wide eyed shock as you straighten your clothes. Ignoring the pleading voice begging you to go back, you walk over and grab your back to make your leave. “I know how embarrassing it is to walk into a meeting late and all pent up,” you tease and look at him over your shoulder. 

Ian leans forward his chair completely captivated by your fighting words. “Sweetheart,” he warns, wetting his lips as he takes you in. Hickies paint your neck so nicely as your shirt wrinkles at the hem. He watches as your chest hastily rises and falls, but the movement of your hand catches his attention. Darting his eyes to meet your fluttering lashes, Ian slightly raises out of his chair ready to chase after you if he has to. His stomach burns as need takes over his sense of control. No longer concerned about how he looks, Ian just needs you bent over his desk if he’s to get through the rest of the day.

“Be good for me, alright?” you tease and quickly exit the office, slamming the door as fast you can. Barely hearing the rush of footsteps behind the door, you take off to make it to the campus cafe. Hypersensitive to everything around you, your mouth slightly waters at the thought of what tonight will bring.

When you exit the math building, the heat sits heavy on your skin as the afternoon sun beats down on you. You quickly walk over to the library and hum at the sweet relief from the AC as it greets you. Only one more lecture to get through for the day, and then you can head to your apartment to get ready for tonight.

Yet, your mind wanders further away from campus and into Ian’s cozy, hidden apartment as the minutes slowly dwindle in the dusty lecture hall. Doodling in your notebook, thoughts of take away choices preoccupy your attention rather than the enticing voice of Dr. Jones.

“But it seems as though my stories of lost civilization can’t capture the attention of everyone,” his pointed joke breaks your daydream. 

Your wide eyes peer down the lecture risers to meet your professor’s stern look. Shrinking into your chair, you send him a sheepish smile. Dr. Jones smiles and shakes his head ready to continue his story when the bell trills against the chalkboard walls. You quickly shove your notebook and supplies into your bag as anticipation spurs you into action, but you at least attempt to listen to the last minute homework announcement.

“Alright, I know it’s Friday, and everyone has somewhere to be,” Dr. Jones’ voice shouts over the room’s hustle, “But remember that your capstone proposals are due next Wednesday. It’ll be a cold call to determine order- be thankful I told you that much”.

Your skin feels hot and tacky as you try to make your way through the hoard of students trying to escape campus for the weekend. Ian’s last remark echoes in your mind as classmates chatter about their plans. You huff at how slow everyone seems to be moving even though excitement pulses through the air. The electric energy only seems to stoke the pent up desire that stings your core and clouds your mind.

“And I know it will be difficult to pay attention in a Friday afternoon course, but please try to do your best,” Dr. Jones reminds the class, “This is your second capstone requirement. A requirement to graduate next year”. His gaze locks onto your bashful figure trying to hide in the small waves of students.

The throngs of students pushing and bumping into each other in the hallway as everyone hurries to get ready for evening plans. A date night with their partner at the college diner. Football game under the stadium lights with adoring fans and a pep band performance. Perhaps, a risque hook up that sets the tone for a weekend hidden away. Just as you're about to enter autopilot to weave your way through the changing empty spots in the crowd, a light tap to your shoulder draws your attention behind you.

A wide eyed boy nervously shifts in front of you and looks to be struggling with something. “Everything okay?” you ask and try to keep your tone even. Even though eagerness clips your words, you know it’s no reason to be rude. “Dr. Malcolm said to come find you and tell you that he said he had to move your meeting to the lower courtyard. Said it was a waste of a good day to stay inside,” the underclassman mutters before scuttling into the crowd. 

Turning on your heel, you backtrack past your lecture hall and launch yourself against the flow of traffic. Your feet slap and trip over the stairs as you fly down to the lower level that exits to the courtyard. Bursting through the door, the late afternoon sun tickles your cheeks and the floral aroma of the gardens gives you a slight lightheaded high. You look from side to side as you walk closer to the courtyard parking lot. It seems as if the humanities department clears out almost strictly up top.

“Over here, sweetheart,” his voice lightly calls out.

Whipping your head where the voice came from, your smile blooms when you see Ian leaning against his red Pontiac. His arms open to invite you to your weekend getaway and send you running. Throwing yourself into his chest, you press yourself as close as you possibly again.

The warm, black button down scratches your cheek when you nuzzle against it. His belt buckle bumps into you as Ian shifts to hold you more comfortably. One of his legs pushes between your own to support and tease you. His skin slightly damp from the ruthless sun shining down onto the two of you. Ian trails his nose across the crown of your head before pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. Tingles and heat send dizzying ripples through your head.

“Got you for the whole weekend, yeah?” he trails more kisses down the side of your head and murmurs against your ear.

“All yours, baby,” you hum, “Today, this weekend, and everyday yet to come”.

“Then I get to take my time with you tonight,” he nips at your lobe. Pulling away, Ian smirks down at you. The sight of your flushed expression unapologetically taking him in sends Ian into a flurry of emotions. Pride swells in his chest as devotion twinkles in his eye. Wetting his lips, Ian forces himself to breathe when you trail your fingertips down his shirt’s button and rest on his leather belt. “Time to head home, honey,” Ian pats your bum and opens the passenger door for you. Once you settle in your seat, Ian shuts the door and walks over to the driver’s side to join you inside. Turning on the car and pulling it into gear, Ian rests one hand at the top of your thigh and rubs light circles into your leg as he steers the car off campus.

“So what happened with your capstone?” Ian grunts and turns out of the lot. He shoots you a knowing smile and squeezes your upper thigh, “You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart. I was a bit distracted last time we talked”. His words make the air hot thick. 

“I, um,” you swallow hard when Ian’s fingers dance close to your crotch. You can feel his fingernails drag up your leg slowly as his hand bumps into your lower stomach when the car goes over the speed bump. “I basically had to force my group to use their brains when they seemed concerned about proving they had any,” you breath out.

Ian laughs, not out of commiseration, but in pleasure. Seeing you squirm in your seat just from a small tough, he’s desperate to get you home. “Good thing they have such a smart groupmate then, huh?” he mocks and presses his hand between your thighs. He knows that he is giving you enough relief when you bite down on your lip. “Keep going, honey. I know you had Indy’s class today for capstone as well,” Ian applies more pressure where he cups you, “I know you’re so tired from using your little brain today, but you know better. Rock your hips, baby”.

“Ian, please,” you whine as you shamelessly rub yourself against his hand. At this rate, you don’t care if any of your classmates see you on their walks home. Everything, but Ian’s touch slips from your mind as the outside world blurs past you. His touch causes warm washes to crash through you and tingle all over your body. Feeling his hand sharply come down on you, you let free a broken moan.

“Almost there, sweetheart. Keep going,” Ian encourages, but an edge in his voice makes you shake.

“Couldn’t pay attention,” you shyly mumble. Your legs squeeze around his hand as you hang your head. The additional friction causes you to throb against his hand and pathetically grind down. Your climax stings as it builds when Ian lightly traces his fingers across you. Then he digs into you and presses the heel of hand hard against your bucking hips, nearly stopping you. “Fuck, I know,” you plead with tears threatening your lashline, “He called me out for it twice, and ‘m not even that embarrassed about it. ‘S just syllabus week, and I’ve been-”. You bite down hard on your lip from slipping too much. Ian’s already proving his point that he’s the one in control. That he has you wrapped around his finger. But you weren’t going to so easily admit that you were left helpless after a fleeting touch and a few buzz words.

Ian looks over at you through the corner of his eyes and sees just how much of a mess you are. Your chest heavy as you try to catch your breath. Wrinkles crease your forehead from chasing your high. Thighs twitching against his warm hand when he moves in the slightest. His mouth runs dry at the beautiful sight. “Just that you were a fucking brat all day and couldn’t deal with it?” Ian hums. Focusing on the road, he counts down the apartment numbers in his head. Just one more block. “That you couldn’t pull your mind out of the gutter long enough to listen to your advisor. It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long with how dumb you get, sweetheart,” he muses. A smirk pulls his lips into a mean expression feeding off the weak sounds coming from you. His hand aches as you use him for your own pleasure, but that won’t last very long once you get home.

“How close?” he demands.

“So close. N-nearly there,” you stutter against his hand. Arousal burns everything you touch and makes the building pressure unbearable. “Ian, please. I know I was a brat-” you plead.

“You really are dumb, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Ian laughs. “I was going to play a little nice if you were just playing dumb,” he emphasizes, “You shouldn’t have confessed, sweetheart. Innocent until proven guilty, right?”

Shaking under touch, you can barely understand what he’s saying. Barely recognizing the dark tone in his voice. All your attention focuses on tipping yourself over the edge as your body shutters. Your legs burn from sensitivity and desperation. Shoulders tingle in anticipation. Any thoughts in your head leave, as your mind becomes hazy.

“I-I’m not dumb,” you pant. A few stray tears bite your hot cheeks.

“Then use your pretty little head and walk”, Ian pulls his hand free and puts the car in park.

“No,” you shout and whip your teary gaze to meet Ian’s challenging look.

“Last chance to pull yourself together, brat” Ian quirks his eyebrow before exiting the car.

The fire licking at your skin starts to sizzle as you try to catch your breath and sniffle. Your mind can’t even process what just happened, you’re too far gone. A muted click vaguely registers in your mind as you gather your bag and slip out the car door. Knees wobbly, you have to lean into Ian to stand up properly.

“Got ya, honey. Come on,” Ian wraps an arm around your waist and carries his bag on the other shoulder. He guides the two of you through the triple decker’s entrance and up the stairs carefully. Even though your little whimpers and thighs pressing together drive him wild at the moment, he deosn’t want either of you to actually do something dumb and miss a step or get caught. Ian’s heart hammers against his chest when presses into your back to unlock his apartment. Your warm body molds against his and shifts under foot. He’s too drawn into how intoxicating you smell. Feeling you hesitantly grind against him makes Ian fumble with the key.

“Brat,” he mutters and shoves the key into the hole. Quickly pushing the door open, Ian forces you to move with his hasty steps and finally enter his home. He nearly breaks the key as he pulls it free and slams the door shut behind him, locking it.

You watch Ian drop his bag onto the side table and throw his keys in the dish. Everything is still as Ian rubs his jaw with a weak smile.

“Bed, baby,” he directs you with his chin. He takes off his sunglasses, and his dark eyes are nearly black when he stares back at you. You turn to run to the bedroom and throw your bag to the living room couch. With every step closer you take off a piece of clothing. Echoing footsteps grow louder behind you, and your heart spikes. You finally got through the day, and you can let go for the weekend.

Passing through the kitchen, you beeline to the bedroom. Still messy as usual with cds stacked haphazardly next to the record player and journals scatter the top of the dresser. The bed invites you with fresh, white and gray linens. Even in the dizzying excitement, your heart swells that Ian wants you to feel comfortable in his home with your favorite morning drink on hand and clean sheets to welcome you.

You throw yourself onto the soft duvet, and Ian falls on top of you. Unable to help the carefree laughter bubbling inside you, you chuckle and pull his head down to press a warm kiss to his lips. His hands run down your sides and squeeze at your soft skin. The dull pain of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip pulls a needy moan from your mouth. Quick to seize the opportunity, Ian slips his tongue past your swollen lips and teases your own. You press your hand against his hard cock and start to slowly rub the little drizzle of precum up his length. An achy need shoots through your stomach when he groans into your mouth.

“Promise that I’ll take my time later. Alright, baby?” Ian trails his nose across your jaw and pants against your neck. “You’ve been driving me insane today,” he punctuated his words with a sudden roll of his hips against your own, “Just need to be inside you, baby. That okay? Gonna let me do what I want to you?”

“I thought you were here to help me,” you tease and meet his hips. Both of you breath heavily at the spiraling sensation your movement caused. Your tummy tickles as Ian grazes your hip bone with the rough pads of his fingers. Slowly, he dips his hand following the slope of your thigh to between your legs.

Ian’s eyes lock onto you as he pauses, his hand hovers just far enough from where you need him most. “I am a selfish man. I have never claimed otherwise,” he growls, “I can still take care of you even if I’m greedy for your body. Even if I’m addicted to you and only want just another taste. I may not be a lover, but I will make sure that the thought of another partner never crosses your mind”. He lightly starts to trace your hole, just enough to catch your undivided attention. “You’re mine, got it? You went after me. You want me. No one else will ever come close to what I do to you,” he says, lips moving against your own as he speaks. His words sit heavy on your chest and make your core burn. Ian’s other leaves the side of your head to reach over and grab the small bottle of lube on his nightstand. The faint click of its cap breaks your gaze to watch him lube his fingers before they return to your body. 

Ian slowly sinks a finger into you, not breaking eye contact with you, and pulls a whine from your swollen lips. “I’m going to make sure that I’ve ruined you for anyone else who even thinks they have a shot with you,” he promises and presses a searing kiss to your mouth. Your breath catches as he adds another finger, stretching you out. Carefully scissoring you open, Ian grips your hip with his other hand. Fingers dig into your figure as he starts to make you unwind and lose yourself to him. 

“Ian, I don’t want anyone else,” you quietly mumble against his mouth. You anchor your hands in his hair and scrap your fingers against his scalp as you pull him closer to you. His guttural moan vibrates against you making you dizzy at the growing arousal building in you. His fingers press upward into you and hit your sweet spot sending a sting of pleasure up your body.

“Then I'm gonna keep it that way. Remind you who you belong to after the stunts you pulled today,” Ian nips your lip before moving his mouth against your neck.

When Ian removes his fingers from you, a sudden emptiness makes you buck your hips in frustration. Not even able to voice your complaint, you feel the tip of Ian’s dick at your entrance.

He rubs his leaking tip against you, smearing pre cum to help lube you. Ian drags his lips up your neck and rests them at the shell of your ear: “Beg”.

Everything hurts. Everything’s too much and not enough at the same time. At the drop of a single word, you let go completely. All the walls come tumbling down at the growing flames building in you.

“Ian, please. I need you in me,” you practically sob, “I want you closer. I want to feel your thick cock inside me as you use me however you want. Just- fuck, I need more”.

With your broken pleads, Ian sinks the tip of his dick inside you. You sob at the slight relief, and your eyes flutter close.

“Keep going. I know you have so many big words in your little brain, baby,” his hot breath stings you.

“Ian,” you shout as your eyes flash open only. “I haven’t been able to think about anything, but you, Ian. Every thought that I’ve managed to have today has been counting down to coming home tonight. You left me wanting more after this morning, and I’m desperate. Please,” you weep. Your eyes sting as you easily admit what he’s done to you.

A searing cloud of pleasure sweeps across your neck when Ian bites down on your sensitive spot. Dizzy from his sudden movement, you barely feel your legs shake as he fully inserts himself into you. The close proximity overwhelms you as Ian snaps his hips against your own, setting a swift pace. 

Your eyes droop as you let yourself completely relax underneath him. The dull stab of pleasure hits every time the tip of his of cock continuously rubs against your sweet spot. Moans echo through the room as both of you lose yourself in each other’s touch. Your thighs sting from the constant denial through the day as you wrap your legs around Ian’s waist.

Now pushing deeper inside you, Ian watches through hooded eyes as you arch your back and a shattering moan passes your lips. “That’s it, baby. Let go, I know you’re close, so just let go. I got ya,” Ian rasps and snaps his hips harder against your own.

“‘S too much,” you whine. The burning crescendo builds in your stomach making you thrash. Either an attempt to chase after your climax or to escape Ian’s brutal ruts- you don’t know or care. All you can feel is Ian’s overwhelming presence. One arm presses your body into the mattress to hold you still, and you feel his veins tickle your skin. His face presses into the crook of your neck and every pepperd kiss flames across your skin. Everytime Ian pushes into you, you feel as if he sinks deeper than the last time. Arousal pools in your stomach when he changes his tempo to a more unforgiving pace and slams into you.

“Thought you said I could do whatever I want with you, baby,” Ian chides and bites down on your neck again. Purple welts blossom across your skin and spur him to keep pushing you further over the edge.”Thought you said you needed me closer,” Ian moans as he moves his hand from your waist and rests his hand against your lower stomach. Both of you feel how far Ian’s dick ruts into you with each thrust. The added pressure makes your toes curl.

“P-please, Ian,” your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. With each movement of his hips, Ian knocks the wind out of you.

“‘Can’t make up your mind, huh, baby?” Ian mocks you with a teasing smile, “You don’t need to think anymore- just focus on me”.

The combination of desire stirring in you and Ian’s words of encouragement, send you over. Your back arches making your chest press up into his own. Hastily running your hands down his neck, you grip his shoulders. Fingertips dig into his broad muscles and irritate his skin with scratches when you drag your nails. It feels like something snaps inside you, and you let out a devastated moan as everything goes white.

Pride stokes Ian’s arousal at the sight of you so far gone on his cock. Moving his hand off your stomach, he catches your back and eases you back onto the bed to press into you with quick ruts. Your incoherent babbles fall mute to his ears as blood rushes through him, and he chases his high. His cock stutters deep inside you with one sharp thrust, and Ian fills you with cum. His hips rock against yours as he rides out his orgasm to your weak whines and whimpers.

Ian holds himself above you as the two of you come down from your orgasms and looks down at your fucked out expression. Tears stains run down your flushed cheeks. Your neck is painted with his signature mark. Chest rising and falling as you desperately breathe in any oxygen you can. A work of art created by Ian Malcolm.

“Need you breathe in, baby,” Ian rubs his thumb against your cheekbone, “And when I pull out, you’re gonna exhale, okay?” His arm holds himself up as he lightly rests his other hand on your chest.

Barely holding onto consciousness, you mumble in response and poorly nod your head. Fatigue envelopes you in a thick blanket, and Ian’s voice does nothing but lull you to sleep. His hand tickles your chest causing you to mutter in protest and try to swat his hand away.

“Deep breath in,” Ian coes at how your face scrunches into a pout, but he feels you listen to his words. “And then out,” Ian pulls out of you as you exhale. His heart pangs when you wince at the movement. “Sorry, sweetheart. Must not be fun,” he rubs his hand up your side to sooth you.

Ian drops to your side and lays down, always keeping at least his leg pressed against your own or a hand on you while he settles. Once the pillows are right and the alarm clocks set for an hour later in the evening, Ian carefully pulls you to his chest and trails his finger softly in random shapes across your skin. 

“You alright?” Ians quietly asks. But he’s met only with faint snores and deep breaths as a response. He presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head before closing his eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear,” he mumbles. A small laugh bubbles against his body as you shift to get more comfortable, quickly returning to deep slumber. Shaking his head, Ian yawns, “So, you’ll hear that, but not when I tell you to behave. Jesus christ, you’re a piece of work”. Draping his other arm around your shoulders, Ian smiles when you rest one leg on top of his thighs.

Finally through the day, the two of you can just enjoy each other’s tender touches and company for the weekend.