#“““““PERFECTLY FINE““““““

[mariasont]

House Rules - A.H

summary: bimbo!asssitant!reader hasn't been answering her phone all day, hotch needs her to clarify something about a case report, or at least that's what he tells himself when he shows up at her house

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: reader wearing some skimpy pjs, pre-relationship pining, hotch trying to act like he's not madly in love with reader

wc: 3.3k

Hotch wasn't sure why he'd expected your house to be normal. He chalked up his misjudgment on the haze of old injuries, the kind of logic that gets muddled when you've bled out on too many occasions. Because standing on your porch, staring at the pale pink door with a glittering Home Sweet Home sign dangling from the handle, he realized how spectacularly wrong he'd been.

It suited you, he realized. He could almost picture you hanging it there, humming to yourself and adjusting it three times before deciding it was just right.

It wasn't a social call. At least, that's what Hotch told himself repeatedly, as though the words might drown out the irrational knot of worry in his stomach. You hadn't answered your phone all day, and that was strange for you. It was your day off, yes, but normally you were over-communicative to a fault, texting emojis when a simple yes would have sufficed, or leaving voicemail messages that somehow turned into tangents about your neighbor's cat, your favorite polish color, or the iced coffee you'd spilled that morning.

But today? Nothing. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

His rational mind told him you were fine. Phones die, phones get left behind, people turn them off to take a break. But when it came to you, the rational part of him always seemed to lose ground to the side of him he didn't care to admit existed—the side that careful just a little bit more than he should have.

He knocked.

After a second, he heard the unmistakable sound of your voice yelling a muffled coming!

The door opened, and there you stood, wearing something that could only be called pajamas by the loosest of definitions—shorts that left far too much skin exposed and a matching top that hugged your chest like it was afraid to let go. Your hair was loose and slightly messy, framing your face, and your bare feet peeked out from under the door.

"Oh!" You froze and looked at him like he had fallen from the sky. "Hotch! What are you doing here?"

Hotch cleared his throat and he tried, tried, to keep his eyes glued to your face. It was harder than it should have been—his brain wasn't helping, already memorizing every detail of your appearance that he knew he shouldn't have noticed.

"Do you always answer the door like this?"

"Like what?"

"Dressed like..." He hesitated, jaw clenching as he searched his vocabulary for a word that wouldn't sound entirely inappropriate. "Dressing like that. Without knowing who is on the other side."

"Hotch," you said, smiling slightly. "I could tell it wasn't a stranger."

"How?" he asked flatly, raising a brow. "Because if you tell me it was a feeling, I'm going to be very disappointed in you."

"So what are you doing here?"

You ignored him, smiling innocently as though he hadn't spoken at all.

He almost started to lecture you—about answering doors, about caution, about everything—but the words died before they reached his tongue. You were fine. Perfectly fine. Not injured, not in danger, not lying in a hospital bed or worse—just standing there, unharmed, while he tried to shake off the residual tension of imaging all of the worst-case scenarios he'd been wrestling with the past hour.

"You weren't answering your phone." His voice came out sharper than he meant, but he didn't correct it.

You stared at him before letting out an incredulous laugh. "Okay, but like... that's usually not cause for a wellness check."

"It's unusual for you."

His own voice sounded defensive in his ears, and he winced inwardly.

Your lips shot upwards as if you had discovered his game, leaning on the door frame with your arms crossed. "Aw, were you worried about me, bossman?"

His response didn't come as quickly as it usually did, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to decipher something. "I needed to confirm something about the case report."

"Sure, you did." You tilted your head, smile widening as you let the words linger. "Well, since you're already here, might as well come in. I'd hate for you to leave empty-handed."

Hotch hesitated. The professional part of him—the one that lived and breathed protocol—told him to stay outside, finish his excuse, and leave. Normally, he wouldn't have thought twice about saying yes to an invitation like this. He'd done it for Morgan, for Emily, even Spencer without a second thought. But this wasn't them. This was you. But then you gave him that look— raised eyebrows, half a grin, daring him to prove you wrong—and against better judgment, he stepped inside.

The inside of your house was... well, it was you.

It wasn't messy, but it wasn't neat either. It was softer than he expected. Fluffy throw blankets over the couch with heart shaped pillows. On the coffee table, a collection of framed photos—pictures of you with friends, family, and even what looked to be an embarrassing prom photo.

"So?" You moved across the room, draping yourself onto the arm of the couch like a cat in the sun, one leg swinging lazily. "What's the big emergency, Hotchner?"

"I told you," he replied, squinting his eyes at you as if that would somehow change your attitude. It wouldn't. He knew from experience. "The case report. You stapled the wrong attachment to it. I need to know where the correct file is."

"Uh-huh," you said, squinting your own eyes back as if to mock him. "And this couldn't just wait until the morning? You sure you didn't just miss me?"

His brow furrowed. "Why would I--"

You were on your feet in an instant, wagging a finger at him like he'd crossed a sacred line. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Hotchner!"

He blinked, staring at you like you'd just started reciting Shakespeare for no reason.

"You'll hurt my feelings," you said matter-of-factly. "And then I'll have no choice to pout. You'll feel guilty, you always do. And to make it up to me, you'll bring coffee tomorrow. So honestly, let's just skip all that and pretend you never wanted to finish that sentence."

He exhaled through his nose. "I was going to say, why would I miss you when I see you nearly every day?"

"Good." The smile was back on your face in a way that, annoyingly, made him feel better. "Because it's my day off, and you're forbidden from being mean to me on my day off."

"Are you implying I'm mean to you on your regular days?"

You tapped your chin as if seriously considering it. "Not mean, exactly... maybe a little grumpy sometimes."

Hotch huffed. "I'm grumpy with you?"

"Sometimes," you said with a shrug. "But it's okay. I like all your sides—even the grumpy one."

"I'm not grumpy with you," he replied, shaking his head. "If anything, I'm nicer to you than I should be."

"You big softie."

Hotch felt his lips twitch, and he hated how much effort it took to keep from smiling. He was not a soft person. He wasn't the type to let people get under his skin, and yet here you were managing to do it with a single sentence. Worse, he didn't exactly dislike it. In fact, it felt... oddly welcome.

It was different from how you were at work—though, in fairness, you weren't exactly buttoned-up in the office, either.

"Did you make those?" He glanced briefly at the tray of cookies in the kitchen.

Your face lit up and you practically bounded over to the counter, grabbing the tray and holding it up like a trophy. "Yep! Chocolate chip. Want one?"

Hotch hesitated for a second, then followed you into the kitchen, his gaze sweeping over the space despite himself. He didn't mean to do it—it wasn't intentional—but the part of him trained to notice every detail, every inconsistency, was already at work. Old habits die hard, or something like that.

The kitchen suited you. Soft pastel hues and floral details everywhere. Pink pots and pans hung along the wall, a lace-trimmed over mitt dangling from a hook shaped like a star. Fresh flowers—peonies or roses—he wasn't sure, sat in a vase on the counter.

He shook his head, trying—and failing—to shut off that instinct to analyze. But it was almost automatic, his mind piecing things together, like the organization of the baking tools and the open cookbook, pages slightly smudged.

"Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna grab one?"

He looked at you, then at the cookies, and finally took one with a small nod of thanks. "You bake often?"

He didn't really need to ask—you felt far too comfortable in this space for the answer to be anything but yes.

"Oh, all the time," you said, turning to put the tray back down. "It's, like, my stress reliever. Plus, it makes the house smell amazing. Not that I'm, like, stressed or anything--just saying. It's a hobby. A cute hobby."

He bit into the cookie, ignoring the sweetness for a second as he glanced around again. The pink gingham tablecloth on the island, the mugs arranged by color.

"Anything else you need? Or can I get back to my cookies and reality TV?"

He glanced toward the TV, where some kind of dramatic argument was unfolding on screen, and then back to you. "You should charge your phone."

"Yes, Daddy," you said, before going stiff. "No! I didn’t mean—like—not that Daddy. Just… regular Dad."

His body went rigid, his jaw tightening as he forced himself not to react, shoving the thought out of his mind before it could take hold.

"Right," he said finally, voice rougher than usual. "Charge your phone."

Hotch stepped toward the door, his hand already reaching for the handle when your voice stopped him.

"No, Hotch's don't leave!"  you said, your voice dipping into a whine that should've been annoying. "I'm bored!"

Keep word—should.

He turned back, brows lifted. "Bored?"

"Yes, bored," you said, flopping back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. "I've already watched two hours of reality TV, ate like, five cookies, and had an entire conversation with myself while I folded laundry. And now you're here, and I haven't had company in forever, and you're just gonna leave me all alone?"

“Forever,” he repeated dryly. “So the 24 hours since I saw you at work?”

"That doesn't count. Work doesn't count as, like, real social interaction. It's work."

He gave you a look—one of those deadpan, unreadable stares that was meant to shut down further argument. That obviously didn't work.

"You're really going to leave me all alone? In my time of need? I thought you cared about me, Hotch."

"You're not in your time of need."

"Emotionally, I am," you said, crossing your arms and leaning back like you’d just made the world’s most convincing argument. "Please, Aaron? Just hang out with me for a little bit. One show. It'll make my whole day."

The way you said his name—Aaron—hit him in a way that felt decidedly too intimate, too casual, too... something. He clenched his jaw briefly, trying to shake off the sensation as he shot you another look.

"Since when do you call me that?"

"Since now," you replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It suits you."

His brows furrowed. "It's my name."

"Exactly," you said, leaning forward. "We're not at work. You came into my house. It's all casual here. You're Aaron now. Just go with it."

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works,” he replied, though his voice lacked conviction.

"It does now," you said, patting the couch beside you. "So, Aaron, are you gonna sit down? Just ten minutes."

With a reluctant sigh, he lowered himself onto the couch, his posture still stiff.

"Wow," you said, scooting so close that your thigh pressed against his. "I didn't think that was actually going to work."

You leaned across the coffee table to grab a blanket, shorts riding up with the motion. Hotch's eyes darted away immediately, landing on the far corner of the room as though it held something deeply fascinating.

His hand clenched into a fist on his thigh, nails pressing into his palm. His knuckles whitened slightly as he tried to force his thoughts back into neutral territory, focusing on his breathing instead of the shape of your ass.

By the time you turned back, oblivious, and tossed the blanket over both of you, he'd managed to school his face into its usual unreadable expression—though he couldn't quite fix the pressure building in his chest.

"So," you began, holding up the remote, "what's it gonna be? Reality TV? A baking show? Or, oh, those ones where they renovate houses, but everything goes horribly wrong."

"You pick." He shifted, trying to put even an inch more space between you, but you didn't seem to notice, too preoccupied with tucking the blanket around you both.

"Okay, but don't blame me if you get hooked. I'm just saying, this stuff is addictive."

He leaned back shaking his, but his focus never really landed on the TV. Instead, it stayed on you—laughing at the wrong moments, gasping dramatically at plot twists, and making snarky commentary under your breath.

"You know," you said suddenly, glancing over at him with a sly smile, "you're kind of cute when you're pretending to relax."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he asked, though the lack of bite in his tone made it sound almost too fond.

"Nope," you said cheerfully, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “Consider it part of the package.”

Hotch didn't respond, his attention shifting back to the screen—or at least, that's what he told himself. But as the minutes stretched into fifteen, then twenty, he realized he wasn't in any hurry to leave.

You fell asleep thirty minutes later.

Hotch wasn't surprised. Between the pile of blankets, you'd wrapped yourself in and the way you'd curled up on the couch like it was your safe haven, it was a miracle you'd lasted that long. He'd noticed your eyelids drooping about five minutes earlier, your commentary fading into soft hums of acknowledgment as you sank deeper into the cushions.

The room was quiet now except for the sound of the TV. He shifted in his seat, glancing over at you. You were entirely still, your breathing slow. Your hair had fallen across your face, and the blanket had slipped off your shoulder, leaving your tank top askew.

It was weird, seeing you like this. You, who were always moving and talking and saying things he never really knew how to respond to. Now you looked so soft, completely oblivious to how much space you were taking up in his head. 

He told himself to leave. Just slip out, lock the door, and let you sleep. That would’ve been the smart thing. The right thing. But he didn’t. Maybe it was the thought of you waking up, groggy and alone, wondering where he’d gone. Or maybe it was the realization that you were still his responsibility, even outside of work.

He leaned forward reluctantly, one hand brushing the blanket back over your shoulder. He told himself it was just a gentlemanly gesture, the kind anyone would do, but the second his fingers grazed you, he froze.

You murmured something under your breath, unintelligible really, your head shifting as you face turned toward him. He snatched his hand back like he'd touched something scalding. 

"Come on," he muttered under his breath. He slid one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back, lifting you easily.

Your head fell against his shoulder the second he straightened. He swallowed. Your bedroom. Where was it? He glanced down the hall. Left or right? The door slightly ajar felt like the most obvious choice, and sure enough, when he nudged it open with his foot, he found himself standing right where he anticipated.

Pinks, florals, lace-trimmed, well, everything. The bed was covered in more pillows than he could count in every possible shade of pastel. It smelled like you—roses and vanilla, with something sweeter lingering underneath, like sugar from a bakery.

But then his eyes snagged on the rack of nightgowns against the far wall, like it wasn't about to cause an existential crisis. 

Lace. Sheer. Satin.

He shouldn't be looking at them. He knew he shouldn't be looking at them, and yet... he couldn't stop. The imagine of you wearing one slipped into his mind before he could stop it. That was a problem—he could see you in them, and now he had to wrestle with that mental image while pretending to be a gentleman.

He bit down on the inside of his check, hard enough to sting, and forced himself to look back at the bed. This wasn’t the time—or the place—for thoughts like that. Hell, there wasn’t ever a time for them. 

He eased you onto the mattress, his hands far softer than he thought himself capable of. He straightened, watching as you instinctively curled into the covers, your hair fanning across the pillow like some picture-perfect cliché.

Then you stirred, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his. 

"Hotch?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

"It's okay," he said softly. "Go back to sleep."

You blinked slowly, gaze still hazy. "You're still here?"

"I didn't want to leave you on the couch. You looked too uncomfortable."

Your lips curved into a small, sleepy smile as you sank back into the pillows. "That's... sweet. I didn't think you did stuff like that."

He huffed softly, shaking his head. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

Your smile widened lazily, your half-lidded eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mysterious and chivalrous. You’re gonna ruin my whole perception of you.”

"Sleep," he said firmly, though there was no real heat behind the command.

Your gaze shifted past him, landing on the rack against the wall.

"Did you see those?" you asked. He hesitated—too long for it to go unnoticed—and your grin turned sly. "You did see them, didn't you?"

"They're hard to miss," he admitted, his voice carefully neutral.

"Bet you weren't expecting that, huh?" you teased, leaning your head against the pillow. “So? Thoughts?”

"I think," he said evenly, "you ask too many questions when you’re supposed to be sleeping.”

You laughed softly, the sound trailing off like a dream. “You’re dodging, Aaron. I didn’t know you could dodge.”

He sighed, stepping back as though the distance might save him. "You're good at this."

"Good at what?"

"Pushing buttons," he replied. “You’re a natural.”

"And yet, you're still here."

He didn't have the words for that. Because you were right, and he didn't know what to do about that.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your body slackening into the bed, and he thought you were asleep.

Then you spoke again, quieter this time, as if testing the words before committing to them. “Why’d you really come here?”

He stilled. "I told you. You weren't answering your phone. The case report."

The explanation felt flimsy, even to him, and he hated how obvious it sounded.

"That's not it," you whispered, your eyes still closed. "You could've just waited until tomorrow. You didn't have to check on me. But you did."

Hotch didn’t move, his breath catching as he studied you. Your face, relaxed and peaceful, gave no indication whether you knew what kind of mess you were making of him in that moment.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, the faintest hint of a smile brushing your lips. "I think I like it when you worry about me. Feels nice."

You didn’t say anything else, your breathing softening as sleep took over again.

Hotch stayed where he was, rooted to the spot. Your words replayed like a deadly loop in his head.

He finally tore his gaze away, stepping back and slipping out of the room with careful movements. He closed the door behind him as softly as he could, but even then, the sound felt too loud.

For a second, he lingered in the hallway, staring at door like it might offer him some form of an answer. He'd drawn a line with you a thousand times in his head, a boundary he vowed not to cross. And yet, like you said, he was still here, standing in your home.

He shook his head and turned toward the front door. He wouldn't cross the line—but gods help him, staying on the right side of it felt harder every time.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @alexxavicry @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantgardenwitch @kodzukenmaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spennciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001 @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @estragos @khxna @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @justyourusualash @whimsicalpolitical @kcch-ns @cool-light32 @reidfile @sugarbutterbailey @ssamorganhotchner @persephonestears @moonyxstars @spookyysinsanity @proxxyshouse @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @imsonotweird @jungchloe @she-wont-miss @duchesz @may-machin99 @historicallyweirdandqueer @in-the-kosmos @lcvealwayss @p13rc3-th3-m4tt13 @babyhoneybyhs @reire11

[lonicera-caprifolium]

just a reminder that "Aziraphale and Crowley are men and only men" is one, canonically incorrect, and two, GO terf rhetoric

it's perfectly fine to have a personal preference! But if you're talking shit about other creators/fans who enjoy them with other genders, I'm going to assume you're with the terfs

[nobody-nexus]

Oh WOW look at all these perfectly fine alt designs that the show has given us. Would be ashamed if I- MADE EM A LIL FUCKED UP

Yeah no I be cooking something up in the background

Multiple things actually

This is just one of them

[rabidfangirlteehee]

This

But also like things being perfectly fine and there being a time and place for things are not concepts that are at odds with each other.

You don't have to discuss the most scandalous of the dark fic tropes you enjoy on a platform where you show your face and is meant for the most general of audiences. Maybe keep that to specific subreddits, or tumblr, or discord, or just your private GC.

"can we normalize-" NO!!!!!! we do not need to expand whats considered normal!!! we need to teach people to stop reacting judgmentally when encountering something new and weird!!!! things dont need to be normal to be respected!!!!!!!!!!

[suh-lee]

' fuck you... fuck you. ' - thanos

𐔌♯ pairing — dom thanos x sub amab!reader

𐔌♯ warnings — smut mdni , slight feminization , blowjob (reader receiving) , drug usage (+ peer pressure) , cursing, implied korean speaking (stuff intended to be english will be italicized) , 'boy' used for reader, cockwarming mention

𐔌♯ word count — -1.7k

𐔌♯ authors note — hi.. had a small depressive episode so i halted my writing.. uhm.. anyways we are so back! and small note.. i literally do not know anything about drugs.. most of the substance use was written with a small amount of research.. if it isnt accurate please imagine it is..

you fucking hated it here. you didn't know where you were, what you were doing, or even the true nature of the other 455 players with you.

anybody could be planning anything against you.. at any time.. anywhere... and you just had no way of knowing.

you knew this was a bad attitude to have when you had nobody else to rely on at the moment, but you just couldn't help the feelings of doubt and possible betrayal.

everyday, as the other players went to grab their small portions of food, you just sat on one of the many bunkbeds and stared, trying to observe everyone possible.

"hey pretty boy," you heard someone say from the floor.

it was that bitch with the highlighter purple hair, thanos. you found him anything less than unendearing. thanos had a habit of constantly breaking out in a freestyle rap.. and they were never really good. as well as seeming to pick fights with everyone there.

yup, he was definitely not the person who you would try to become allies, or even friends, with, even if you were desperate here.

you tried your best to ignore him, continuing to stare off into the lines of people.

"hey bitch!" thanos yelled, "i'm talking to you!"

a soft groan escaped your lips as you slowly moved your head down to look at him, standing like an idiot on the floor.

"what?!" you said in a snappy tone, to which he responded with a smirk.

"i liked you better when you were quiet." he mumbled, climbing up the metal latter to the many bunk beds, finally reaching the one you were on a plopping down.

the slightest look of disgust was on your face as you stared him down, getting a glance of every small detail about him. "are you high?" you mumbled, noticing his bloodshot eyes and overly shaky hands.

"why, pretty boy? ya want some?" thanos said, a smirk placed on his face as he started to reach into the sweater of his tracksuit, where you assumed (more hoped) was where he hid the drugs.

"no, im fine." you spoke in a stern tone.

"awh! you're no fun." he frowned, pulling out a detailed cross-shaped necklace. he turned his head to make sure nobody else was around before lifting the top on the necklace, revealing a small collection of drugs of multiple colors. "....you sure?" he asked in a cocky tone. "c'mon man!! live a little!" he said a little louder than you would have liked.

"fuck you." you mumbled, rolling your eyes off to the side. you looked around at the people in the room, letting out a loud sigh. your gaze looked the purple-haired man up and down, "fine. give me one."

"shit?! yo.. i knew you'd come through!" he said, taking a pill out of the cross necklace and quickly putting it in your palm. "it's crazy strong though. like man."

you placed the colored pill into your mouth, confused if you should swallow or let it dissolve, but you chose the latter. the version of you that existed before participating in these games would've never dreamed of taking a drug... but here you were.

thanos stared at you, a look of anxious excitement placed on his face. the both of you made eye-contact with another blankly, waiting for the effects of the drug to hit you.

..and.. it finally did.

"holy shit.." you managed to mumble. the feeling of hunger in your body was lifted with the drug, as well as the feeling of stress. your mind felt float-y, even causing your body to do the same, even as you sat perfectly still.

"it's strong.. right?" he said as his eyes watched you."

"..yeah.. god.."

"it's not very beginner friendly.. but it'll definitely make this place more fuckin' bearable." he mumbled, scooting a little closer to you.

"how'd you know i was a beginner?" you asked, looking at him with disbelief.

"ay, pretty boy. let's be for real now." thanos started off, "your whole body language is fuckin' rookie if i've ever seen one.. you didn't even know what the fuck to do with the pill."

a sigh escaped your lips as he spoke, "how the fuck does anybody put up with you?" to which thanos chuckled.

"i dunno.. you seem to be doin' a damn good job at it though."

"fuck you." you mumbled, staring at him.

you guys talked for a while as the substance reached it's high in your body. after the conversation, you seemed to be able to tolerate thanos more... even throughout his annoying ass tactics. he seemed to have a difficult time before coming here.. as did you. a light was revealed in thanos with said conversation. one that you were shocked about.

you saw... an attractive male. you definitely couldn't deny that he was a physically attractive man, but you've seen more into his actual persona, and you like it. a lot.

"yo." he finally mumbled, "i'm not gonna deny this.. you're fuckin' pretty. like shit."

"you literally called me 'pretty boy'."

"c'mon man! you don't need to expose me like that." he said, a slight joking tone was hidden under his words.

you guys sat in silence for what could only feel like hours. you leaned a little closer to him.

"can i.. kiss you?" was the only thing you could say, it coming out of your mouth as a whisper.

thanos stared at you in shock, a moment of silence went on, almost making you regret asking, before a small nod appeared on thanos' face.

his gaze glanced around the room, making sure all of the eyes were off you guys before the both of you leaned into each other.. your lips quickly connecting. he put his right hand on the back of your head. it grabbing your (slightly) outgrown hair in a way that was somewhat comforting. your lips kissed, the both of you waiting before bringing your tongues into it. your lips simply sat on each others... until they didn't. thanos lightly bit your bottom lip, asking you to open your lips without actually asking you too. you waited a minute before doing so, his tongue slowly slipping into your mouth, and vise versa. the kiss still seemed slow, so you decided to pick up the speed of your tongue. thanos matched the speed of your tongue causing your arms to swing from the sheets on the bed to his back. your arms tightly wrapped around his torso as his other hand slid to your waist, it lightly rubbing up and down.

thanos waited a moment and carefully slid his cold hand under the fabric of your clothes. he continued to rub his hand against your skin, the icy touch of his fingers sending a shiver down your spine. you pulled away from the kiss and stared at him.

"your eyes.. they're pleading.." he said with a small laugh, his hand trailing up under your top. he did so slowly, the grazing of his fingers making your breath's speed to decrease. his hand stopped on the left side of your chest.

thanos leaned into your ear and whispered, "what a small and perky tit..." he said with a smirk on his face before pulling away and starting to fidget with the nipple.

you never thought having your chest referred to in a way commonly used for females would turn you on... but here you were.. your dick was rapidly getting hard, it slightly poking out through the fabric of your sweatpants.

this movement did not go unnoticed by thanos, his gaze slipping from your face to your pants. he let his hand slide out from under your shirt and placed it on the hem of the tracksuit pants. they were carefully tugged down, just enough to reach the end of your boxers. he placed his hand on your boxers now, looking at you for confirmation that you wanted this, and all you could do was quickly nod. you adjusted yourself to be completely laying down on the bunkbed, as he adjusted himself to hover above your pelvic area. he nodded before pulling your boxers down and watching your dick pop out almost immediately. he teasingly flicked it, receiving a whine from you.

"..how responsive." he teased before placing his mouth on the tip of it.

thanos slowly moved his head downward on your dick, stopping right before he reached your testicles. he looked up at you, before lifting his head up and slamming it back down onto your dick. he continued this a few times, having you quietly whimpering.

you watched his head lift up to look you in the eye, your dick making a 'pop!' sound as his mouth went off of it. "hey. you gotta be quiet, man!" he exclaimed in a hush tone. "the fuck you think that pissy old man's gonna do if he sees this!" he said, clearly referring to player 001. the man who had stopped him from beating up a player.

"sorry." you mumbled, your eyes pleading for him to ignore it and continue.

thanos looked at you with doubt before slamming his head back down onto your dick, your dick hitting the back of his throat with ease. his eyes teared up on reflex as he let out a quiet groan.

"thought we we're being quiet?" you said, teasing him through shaky breaths, to which you received no response.

you watched as his head quickly bopped up and down, each thrust of your dick reaching the back of his throat, you quickly decided you had to come and left no notice before your dick started to release the infamous white liquid. your nut squirted all around his mouth, his head bopping up and down a few more times to rid you of that high before lifting his head up.

thanos stared at you as he swallowed it before laying down, right next to you. he helped you pull your boxers and tracksuit pants back up.

you sat in silence, processing what had just happened. a hand being placed on yours interrupting your thoughts.

"so. pretty boy.. whatcha feel about cockwarming?"

[wcnderlnds]

carried away | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: getting to film a movie with seunghyun is all fine until you have to film a kissing scene ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: n/a ・❥・ authors note: saw a video of tazza behind the scenes and was inspired 👀

Choi Seung-hyun was one of the most interesting people you had ever met. Not only was he a complete sweetheart but he was one heck of a talented actor. He could switch between himself and the character he was playing almost seamlessly. Not many actors had that kind of talent — some opting to stay in character through the whole shoot to not lose focus but not Seunghyun. When he was in character, he was locked in and when he was out of it, he was the fun, sweet guy that you had come to know over the last couple of months. It amazed you every single day.

When you’d first got the job to star alongside him, the nerves you’d felt were probably the worst you’d ever experienced. He was an icon, part of one of the biggest bands in the world. It was daunting knowing you were going to have to be face to face with one of K-Pops biggest idols. Turns out there had been no reason to worry whatsoever because he was the nicest person you’d ever met. The very first day you’d met on set he’d introduced himself politely, made sure you were comfortable and did everything he could to make it easy for you. It wasn’t your first job. You were pretty well known in the industry but every set was different. All the different actors and crew; sometimes you didn’t know what to expect. So far, this had been your favourite movie to work on. Did most of that have to do with Seunghyun? Absolutely.

Today was the day you had been dreading the most, though. Intimate scenes were always daunting to film but now you had to film one with Seunghyun. Oh, you were so screwed. Over the last few weeks, you had developed a little crush on your co-star. Not a word had been uttered to him but you were fairly sure you weren’t hiding it very well. The giggles at his every joke, the way you’d hang on to his every word, find any reason to be close to him — it was like you were a kid again with your very first crush and didn’t know how to act.

“You ready for this?” Seunghyun asked as the two of you stood waiting for the director to start the scene. He stood there, tie loose around his neck, his white shirt unbuttoned slightly showing off some of his chest. If you weren’t so nervous, you’d definitely be staring right now.

“Yeah,” you nodded, hands flexing at your sides. “I'm a little nervous but I’m ready.”

“I’ve got you, okay? You want to stop at any time just tell me and we will. We don’t even have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it. I’m sure we can think of a way around it,” he reached out to give your arm a reassuring squeeze. Even just a simple touch like that made your heart beat ten times faster so what the hell was going to happen to you the moment his lips met yours? 

“It’s okay, I promise. I’m glad it’s with you. I trust you.” A genuine smile adorned your face making Seunghyun smile, too. Was he blushing as well? Surely you were imagining that.

It wasn’t too long after when the director yelled action and it was all hands on deck. Before you could even prepare yourself (which you’d had plenty of time to do if you hadn’t been so nervous), Seunghyun’s hand was on the back of your head and his lips crashed against yours. The second his soft lips began to move, your head turned fuzzy. Your hands fisted in the shirt he was wearing as he backed you up onto the bed. As you laid back, he settled on top of you, his tongue tangling with yours. You knew you were supposed to be acting, that this was your character and not you but it didn’t stop you from getting lost in the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours. Or the way his body slotted between yours like a puzzle piece.

It wasn’t until Seunghyun pulled away — breathless and with red tinted cheeks — that you realised the director had shouted ‘cut’ over five minutes ago. You could feel the flush of your cheeks as the embarrassment coursed through you. Without a single word, you ran off the set to hide in your dressing room. If that wasn’t the most mortifying moment of your life, you didn’t know what was. How could you have gotten so lost that you didn’t realise the scene had ended? How unprofessional. 

It was five minutes later when you heard a knock on your door. You barely mumbled a “it’s open” when the handle turned and in walked Seunghyun. You had your head in your hands but as you heard him clear his throat, you looked up. There he stood looking as gorgeous as ever. 

“Can I…?” He gestured to the spot next to you on the couch. You nodded your head, resting your hands in your lap. He sat beside you, twisting his body slightly so he could look at you. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m embarrassed and mortified and really wish the ground would swallow me up right now.” The urge to hide your face again was strong but you fought against it. You had to be an adult and own up to what had happened. “I’m so sorry, Seunghyun. That was so unprofessional of me. I…I’m really sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, don’t apologise. I could have stopped it sooner but… uh, I didn’t want to.”

Did you hear him correctly? He didn’t want to stop kissing you? 

“…what?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he let out a low chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. “I like you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make a move without it being weird for a couple weeks now but nothing seemed right. But then when I kissed you and you didn’t seem to stop, I couldn’t help myself. If anything it was unprofessional of me.”

“Just a couple of unprofessionals then, huh?” You joked, gently nudging him with your elbow. “I like you too, by the way.”

“I know, you’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Shutup.”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his side. “Want to get dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you smiled up at him, his eyes catching yours. It was so easy to get lost in him. Everything about him was so perfect. 

“For the time being, we have a lot of kissing to do because apparently we were too intense for the scene or something,” Seunghyun jokingly rolled his eyes, holding his hand out for you as he got to his feet. “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

If work meant you got to keep kissing the handsome man standing in front of you then you were more than happy to get back on set.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten

[russo-woso]

Somethings wrong || Alessia Russo x pregnant!reader

Request | Masterlist

Warning pregnancy, mention of miscarriage, blood

Summary You have your first scare during the pregnancy

“This is nice.” You whispered, your head against Alessia’s chest as you snuggled close on the sofa.

You’d both managed to have a day off. No training, no match, no plans.

Just a relaxing day just the two of you and your bubba.

You spent the day in pyjamas, relaxing on the sofa watching movie after movie.

“It is nice. We won’t get many more moments like this just the two of us once bubba’s born.” Alessia pointed out, her hand rubbing absentmindedly over your bump.

“We won’t.” You agreed as the fifth movie of the day finished.

You yawned, Alessia noticing your tiredness from the way your eyes drooped.

“Would you like me to run you a bath, love?” Alessia asked, rubbing your back gently.

“That would be nice thank you, lessi.”

“Here, let me help you up.” Alessia offered, grabbing ahold of your hand as she pulled you up, knowing you’d struggle otherwise.

You smiled, kissing her cheek, not failing to notice the way her eyes widened as she stared at the sofa.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked but when you don’t get a reply, you looked at the sofa yourself, a bright red patch noticeable.

“You go change baby, and get in the car. I’ll pack a bag.” Alessia whispered, her voice shaking as she rested a hand on your back.

“Less…”

“It’s fine, love. It’s probably nothing. The baby’s just giving us a scare.” Alessia tried to lighten up the mood, although not helping due to the panic and fear the two of you were feeling.

You left Alessia soon after, getting changed before quickly going to the toilet.

You couldn’t help but burst out crying.

You were filled with panic, and dread.

What if something was wrong with the baby? Was it your fault? Had you pushed yourself too far in training?

Your sobs were so loud that you didn’t even hear Alessia knock on the bathroom door.

It was only the third knock when you heard Alessia.

“Love? Please let me in.”

You reached over, unlocking the door, letting her in.

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry. We don’t know anything for definite. They could be perfect. Come on, let’s get you in the car.”

—

“Mrs Russos?” The doctor asked, knocking on the door as he walked in.

You had been at the hospital for a few hours now.

They ran through test after test, trying to get to the bottom of what was wrong.

Alessia held your hand as she rested her elbows on the bed.

“The results are in from your tests.” The doctor announced, quickly looking over the notes on his clipboard. “It looks like your baby is perfectly fine. We’ve come across no problems in the scans or tests which leaves one possible answer as to why the bleeding occurred. I’m presuming you had sex within the last 48 hours.”

Yours and Alessia’s faces blushed a deep red, flashbacks to last night fresh in mind.

“Am I right?”

You nodded shyly, your face even more red.

“That’s why you’re bleeding. It’s very common so there’s nothing to worry about. If you have any questions or concerns, I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you.” Alessia said on the behalf of both of you.

The doctor left, leaving you and Alessia alone.

“I asked if it would hurt the baby.” Alessia told you

“I didn’t think anything like this would happen. They said having sex whilst pregnant was fine.” You explained, changing back into your clothes after having to wear a hospital gown.

“No more sex now. I’m not having our baby come early.”

“No! Lessi, you can’t do that! I’ll be fine, the baby will be fine.”

“Nope!”

“Lessi!”

[whereintheworldiskamalakhan]

I have two baby teeth that had no adult teeth grow under them. Just a genetic lottery thing, my mom and sister both had one. One is holding on but the other needed an implant a few years ago. My insurance refused to pay for any of it so I had to pay $4,000+ out of pocket. The dentist told me that in cases like this insurance would usually pay for a bridge. Which would require filing down the perfectly fine teeth on either side of the missing tooth. Which would later, years down line, probably need root canals and maybe even implants of their own (where they may not have had any problems without the bridge). But a bridge now is cheaper for insurance now. And when your fucked up teeth need way more work later, when you may be in excruciating pain and at risk for further damaging your mouth, you probably have different insurance and you're their problem. Because healthy functioning teeth are a luxury.

[roordismo]

Top Bins - Alexia Putellas

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

word count: 690 | summary: late night practice

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

Alexia always did after-training practice whenever team training wrapped up, it became a habit after she had rehabbed for so long, an extra push to get back to the level she used to be at. You teasingly called her an ‘overachiever’ for it, even though you’d sometimes tag along with her.

The two of you spend countless nights just doing something extra to keep your form up. Tonight was no different, planning on spending your time with Alexia as you always did. It had gotten quite a bit darker outside as you walked out on the same pitch you trained on less than an hour ago. The pitch was completely cleared of all training equipment by the staff, though they were kind enough to keep the lights on. As you looked down at your phone, Alexia came walking out on the pitch, putting her stuff next to yours. The both of you agreed on practicing free kicks this time.

After a few decent attempts you put the ball down again, adjusting it so it stayed in the ‘perfect spot’. “Míra esto Putellas, top bins, I can feel it.” You said confidently with a smug grin on your face. She chuckled at your confidence, “Yeah? Are you gonna put your money where your mouth is?” Giving her a glance as you lined up to take your shot, you responded, “Absolutely, I always back my statements up.” The ball went flying over, not even remotely close to the crossbar, hitting the fence behind the goals with a loud thud. “So that was supposed to be top bins?” She raised an eyebrow, mocking your confidence from earlier. “Era una broma, you didn’t think i was serious did you?” You asked, trying to cover up your shitty attempt, even though you were embarrassed not being able to follow up your words. “Oh this isn’t your best? Maybe I should've waited before judging you then, go again.” She dared you as you picked up the ball from the goal and put it back in the same spot around the 16-yard box. You watched the ball fly through the sky, only for it to land on the roof of the net. “Es esto todo lo que tienes? Are you sure you’re not aiming for the wrong bins?” She chuckled, pointing at the top corner of the goal. “Whatever smartass, let me do this perfectly now.” You lined up again, as she called out, “Don’t overdo yourself, tryhard!” “Third time's a charm they say.” You shouted right back at her before taking the shot. The run up was perfect, you hit the ball perfectly this time and drove it right into the top corner Alexia pointed at a minute ago.

"And how’s this for top bins Ale? I told you I could do it” You added cockily, a big grin spreading across your face as she rolled her eyes. “What did I say, you’ve doubted me the whole time.” Going on about the fact you just hit top bins, forgetting about all the previous misses. “So now you’re an expert of course, it was a lucky shot!” She teased, putting her hands up in the air as she chuckled at your response. “A lucky shot? It was pure skill! I’m the next Ballon d’Or winner for sure!” You went on, “You’re really full of it tonight.” Giving you a little shove at all your bragging, stepping closer towards you. “You’re just jealous you didn’t-” Alexia shook her head, tugging your collar firmly before pressing her lips down on yours, catching you by surprise.

A small smile appeared on her face after she pulled away. “I’ll give you something to brag about.” she said proudly. “Hm yeah, this might be better than hitting that shot.” you responded, grinning like a child. Then she moved away from you, leaving you clueless on what was going to happen next. She put the ball back down, right before effortlessly sending it into the left corner of the goal. There she stood, laughing whilst looking at you. “Fine, you win Alexia…” you jokingly sighed. “Someone had to show you how it’s done."

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

first time in forever again, any errors lmk x

[buttercandy16]

What She Deserves...

PAIRING(s): Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: In a world devoid of omegas, Agatha Harkness becomes fixated on her beta neighbor, willing to do whatever it takes to claim her.

WARNING(s): Omegaverse, Dub-con, Obsession, Cheating, Forced Transformation and other Dark Themes.

A/N: Two fics in one day? I'm on a roll, lol! Time for some Alpha Agatha to claim me... I meant you... or us?

The night was moonless, the perfect backdrop to Agatha Harkness’s restless prowling. Salem was quiet these days, much quieter than Agatha preferred. The world had changed; omegas, once sought after and cherished, were no more. The natural order had shifted, leaving only alphas and betas to navigate the complexities of their desires.

Agatha wanted more—needed more. For centuries, she had used her power to survive and thrive, but loneliness gnawed at her now. She longed for the soft yielding nature of an omega, for the irresistible pull of a bond. No beta could match the primal fire in her, no matter how desperately they tried. Then, fate intervened.

When the moving truck pulled up next door, Agatha leaned against her window, watching with detached interest. A couple, newly married from the looks of it, stepped out, smiling and holding hands. Two betas, utterly unremarkable. Her gaze lingered, however, as the wife’s laugh carried through the air, melodic and warm, laced with something that sent a spark down Agatha’s spine.

Interesting.

Her new neighbor—you—was the epitome of charm. Your kind smile and bright eyes captured the attention of everyone who came to welcome you to the neighborhood, but it was the way you walked, moved, and carried yourself that made Agatha’s heart twist. There was something beneath your beta exterior, something she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t long before her curiosity became obsession.

Over the weeks, Agatha ingratiated herself into your life. She’d drop by with welcome gifts, offer to help with the garden, and invite you over for tea when your husband was at work. You couldn’t understand why you were drawn to her company so fiercely, but there was a magnetic quality to her presence that you couldn’t resist.

“Do you ever feel like you’re meant for something… different?” Agatha asked one evening as the two of you sat by her fire. Her voice was low and smooth, curling around your thoughts like a whisper of temptation.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, staring into the flames. “Sometimes I feel out of place. Like I’m missing something, but I don’t know what.”

Agatha smiled, the kind of smile that would have warned anyone wiser to tread carefully. “Perhaps you just haven’t discovered who you truly are.”

It wasn’t coincidence that you began feeling odd a few days later. Your emotions grew unpredictable, your body feverish, and your senses heightened in ways you’d never experienced. Agatha, always conveniently close, reassured you.

“Your husband’s not a doctor,” she chided when you insisted you were fine. “Let me take care of you. Trust me.”

You did.

She concocted teas with herbs you’d never heard of and whispered strange words into the air when you were too tired to question. She stayed close, too close perhaps, but you were too distracted by your own turmoil to see her true intentions.

Her plan was working.

She had found an ancient spell buried in forbidden texts, a ritual designed to awaken dormant omega traits in betas. It wasn’t supposed to exist in this world, but Agatha was nothing if not resourceful. You, her beautiful and unsuspecting neighbor, would be her masterpiece.

The night you fell into Agatha’s grasp felt like falling into a storm—a force far greater than yourself, impossible to fight. It started as a faint haze of discomfort in your veins, a whisper in your body that turned into a scream. You couldn’t control it, couldn’t understand it, but Agatha… oh, she understood it perfectly.

Her knocking on your door that evening was no coincidence. You had spent the entire day spiraling, feverish and restless, aching in ways that frightened you. Your husband had tried to comfort you, his hands fumbling as he touched your sweat-slick skin, his concern obvious, but his presence was unbearable. He smelled wrong, his voice grated against your senses, and the thought of him even looking at you during your vulnerability made your stomach churn.

Agatha had known. She always knew.

“Darling,” she cooed as you opened the door, her violet eyes sharp with concern—and something darker. Her touch, deceptively light, found your trembling hand, grounding you instantly. Her scent was intoxicating, calming the chaos inside you just enough to make you forget the warning alarm in your brain. “You look terrible. Let me help you.”

You hesitated, clinging to a last shred of caution. "I... I don’t understand what’s happening. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Agatha stepped closer, her voice soft, hypnotic. "It’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart. Your body is finally awakening to its true nature. Let me take care of you. I can make this better."

Desperation clouded your judgment, and before you knew it, you were in her home, her hands guiding you to a comfortable chair by the fire. Her touch was everywhere—gentle on your shoulders, soothing on your back, each caress unraveling your defenses. She offered you tea laced with faintly glowing herbs that smelled of earth and magic. When you drank, the liquid burned in your veins, igniting something so primal you gasped.

Agatha’s smile widened as she crouched before you, one hand resting on your knee, the other cradling your chin. "Feel that?" she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "That’s you transforming. Your body knows exactly what it needs now."

Your skin burned under her touch, your pulse roaring in your ears. Something about her proximity set your senses ablaze. Her scent filled every breath you took—lavender, dark spices, and something raw, something Alpha.

"I need—" you started to say, but your words faltered, your voice caught between a whimper and a growl.

Agatha tilted her head, feigning innocence though her eyes betrayed her cunning. "Need what, darling? Tell me."

You couldn’t. You didn’t know how. Your instincts were at war with logic, and the only thing grounding you was Agatha. Her smirk deepened as she leaned closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Say it," she purred, her voice molten and commanding. "Say what you need."

You shuddered, torn apart by the intensity of her presence. Every rational thought drowned in the tidal wave of heat coursing through you. Her touch dragged you down further, and then she whispered the word that sealed your fate.

"Me."

You trembled under Agatha's intense gaze, her words echoing in your mind like a siren's call. Me. The thought both terrified and thrilled you. Your body cried out for her touch, for her dominance, and the force of that need scared you. You weren't supposed to want this—want her—like this.

Agatha seemed to sense your hesitation, and she pulled back slightly, her hand still resting on your knee. "It's alright," she murmured, her voice soothing even as her eyes glittered with dark promise. "You don't have to be afraid. I can help you through this."

Help. The word was a lifeline in the storm of your new sensations. You needed help, needed something to ground you in the chaos of your awakening omega instincts. And Agatha offered that, along with the temptation of her touch, her scent, the magnetic pull of her alpha energy.

Slowly, you nodded, surrendering to the inevitable. Agatha's smile widened, victorious and hungry. She leaned in closer, her hand sliding from your knee to your thigh, her touch burning through the fabric of your pants.

"Good girl," she purred, her breath ghosting over your lips. "Now, let's get you out of these clothes. We need to see what's happening to you."

Your breath hitched as Agatha stood, her hands already working on the buttons of your shirt. You watched, mesmerized, as she pushed the fabric off your shoulders, exposing the smooth expanse of your skin to the warmth of the fire. Her eyes raked over you, filled with approval and something else—something dark and possessive.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers trailing down your collarbone, over the swell of your breasts. "So perfect."

You shivered at her touch, your nipples hardening under the fabric of your bra. Agatha's lips curved into a wicked smile as she leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the valley between your breasts.

"Can you feel it, darling?" she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. "The heat in your blood, the ache between your legs? That's your omega nature rising to the surface."

You could feel it—the raw, primal need that pulsed through your veins, demanding attention. Your body felt like a livewire, every nerve ending screaming for stimulation. And Agatha seemed to know exactly how to touch you, how to stoke the fire within you.

She straightened up, her hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. "Let's get these off you," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "I want to see all of you."

With a quick movement, she tugged your pants down your legs, leaving you bare before her except for your bra and panties. The cool air of the room hit your skin, making you gasp, but Agatha's eyes were like a physical caress, warm and approving.

"Look at you," she breathed, circling you slowly, drinking in every inch of your exposed flesh. "So beautiful, so ripe with potential. You're going to be a stunning omega."

The word sounded foreign on her lips, but somehow right. Omega. It explained the ache in your body, the restlessness in your soul. It explained the inexplicable draw you felt towards Agatha, the alpha who stood before you now, her eyes dark with desire.

Agatha stepped closer, her hands cupping your face, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. "I'm going to take care of you," she promised, her voice low and firm. "I'm going to show you what it means to be an omega, to submit to your alpha. And you're going to love every second of it."

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation mixed with a hint of fear. You knew you should be scared, should fight against the pull of her dominance. But your body craved her touch, craved the relief only she could provide.

As if reading your thoughts, Agatha's hands slid down your body, one cupping your breast through your bra, the other dipping between your legs, pressing against your aching core through the damp fabric of your panties.

"Can you feel how wet you are?" she murmured, her fingers rubbing slow circles over your clothed sex. "That's your omega essence, darling. It's nature's way of preparing you for mating."

The word made your head spin, but it was the pressure of Agatha's fingers that made you gasp, made your hips buck forward involuntarily. Agatha chuckled darkly, her fingers slipping beneath the hem of your panties, caressing your slick folds directly.

"So responsive," she purred, her touch gentle but firm. "I can't wait to break you in properly."

Break you in. The words should have terrified you, but they only served to heighten your arousal. Your body craved submission, craved the dominant touch of an alpha. And Agatha was more than willing to provide that.

She continued her slow exploration of your body, her fingers gliding over your sensitive flesh, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra, dipping between your legs to gather your slick essence. All the while, she whispered words of praise and possession, telling you how beautiful you were, how perfect, how utterly hers.

You could feel yourself losing control, your omega instincts taking over as the alpha's touch consumed you. Your hands clutched at Agatha's shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of her shirt as she brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer. "Please, Agatha..."

She smiled against your skin, her teeth grazing your collarbone. "Please what, darling?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr. "Tell me what you need."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you could voice your deepest desires. But the fire in your veins demanded satisfaction, demanded release.

"I... I need you," you gasped out finally, the words raw and honest. "I need you to make me yours."

Agatha's eyes flashed with triumph and hunger. "Oh, I will," she promised darkly. "I'm going to claim you in every way imaginable. I'm going to fill you with my seed and make you scream my name until everyone knows you belong to me."

The dirty words sent a shiver of excitement through you, even as a small part of you knew this was wrong, knew you were betraying your husband. But your body didn't care about right or wrong—it only cared about the alpha who held it in her thrall.

With a low growl, Agatha captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to claim every inch of you. At the same time, her fingers found your aching clit, rubbing hard and fast until you were writhing against her, desperate for more.

"Come for me," she commanded against your lips, her fingers never ceasing their relentless pace. "Show me how much you need this."

Her words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of release, you came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure crashed through you. Agatha held you through it all, her touch steady and dominant, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy until you collapsed against her, boneless and sated.

But even as you caught your breath, you could feel the need building again, could feel the omega inside you demanding more than just a quick orgasm. She demanded completion, demanded an alpha's knot and seed.

As if sensing your thoughts, Agatha picked you up easily, cradling you in her strong arms as she carried you towards the bedroom. "Don't worry, darling," she murmured, her voice low and reassuring. "I'm going to give you everything you need."

And as she laid you down on the soft bed, her body covering yours, you knew she was right. This was only the beginning.

Agatha hovered above you, her eyes dark with desire as she gazed down at your naked form. She took a moment to drink in the sight of you, laid out before her like a feast. Her hands trailed over your skin, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under her touch. You gasped at the sensation, arching into her hands, craving more.

With a wicked smile, Agatha leaned down, her tongue swirling around one hardened peak. Electricity shot through you at the contact, your back arching off the bed as you cried out in pleasure. Agatha chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of sensation through you.

"Your body is so responsive," she purred, her fingers continuing their exploration of your curves. "I can't wait to feel it spasming around my knot as I fill you with my seed."

The dirty words made your core clench, your arousal growing with each passing second. You could feel your omega nature taking over, your instincts screaming at you to submit, to let the alpha claim you completely.

Agatha seemed to sense your desperation, and she moved down your body with purpose, her hands and mouth leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she reached the apex of your thighs, she paused, her breath hot against your slick folds.

"Look at you," she murmured, her fingers brushing against your entrance. "So wet and ready for me already. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be an alpha's mate."

She didn't give you a chance to respond, her mouth latching onto your clit instead. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Agatha's tongue worked magic on you, flicking and circling and sucking until you were writhing against her face, your hips bucking shamelessly as you sought more of that exquisite pleasure.

But Agatha controlled the pace, her hands holding your hips down as she lapped at your essence, savoring every drop of your arousal. She brought you to the edge again and again, only to pull back at the last second, leaving you gasping and aching for release.

"Please," you whimpered, desperation clawing at your throat. "Please, Agatha, I need—"

She cut off your plea with another swipe of her tongue, her fingers dipping inside you as she finally allowed you to find your climax. You shattered with a scream of her name, your body convulsing as ecstasy tore through you.

But even as the waves of pleasure crested and began to ebb, you could feel the need building again, stronger than before. Your omega instincts demanded satisfaction, demanded an alpha's knot stretching you open and filling you up.

As if reading your thoughts, Agatha moved up your body, her clothed form pressing against your naked skin. You could feel the hard ridge of her arousal through her pants, and it made your mouth water with desire.

"Can you feel what you do to me?" Agatha murmured, her hips grinding against yours in a slow, sensual motion. "Can you feel how hard I am for you? How much I need to be inside you?"

You nodded frantically, your hands reaching for the buttons of her shirt. You needed to feel her skin against yours, needed to explore the curves of her body just as she had explored yours.

Agatha allowed you to undress her, watching with a satisfied smirk as you marveled at the sight of her. She was lean and toned, her breasts full and her abs defined. And between her legs, her cock stood at attention, thick and heavy and glistening at the tip.

"Such a beautiful sight," Agatha purred, her eyes devouring you as you gazed at her in awe. "I'm going to enjoy wrecking this pretty little body of yours."

She didn't give you a chance to respond, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as she settled between your thighs. You could feel the heat of her cock pressing against your slick folds, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

"Tell me you want this," Agatha demanded, her voice low and commanding against your lips. "Tell me you want me to claim you, to make you mine."

"I want it," you gasped out, unable to deny the need coursing through your veins. "Please, Agatha. I need you to fill me up. I need your knot."

Her eyes flashed with primal hunger at your words, and with a growl of satisfaction, she thrust into you in one smooth motion. The sensation of being stretched and filled was overwhelming, your inner walls clenching around her thick length as she bottomed out inside you.

"Fuck," Agatha hissed, her hips stilling for a moment as she savored the feeling of being inside you. "You're so tight. So perfect."

She didn't give you time to adjust, pulling out slowly before slamming back into you, setting a hard and fast pace that had you crying out in ecstasy. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through you, the head of her cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

You clung to Agatha's shoulders, your nails digging into her skin as she pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and Agatha's grunts of exertion.

"Mine," she growled, one hand fisting in your hair as she angled your head back, exposing your neck to her teeth. "You're mine now, little omega. I'm going to mark you, claim you, fill you with my seed until everyone knows you belong to me."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your omega nature rejoicing at the thought of being claimed so thoroughly by an alpha. You felt wild, free, as if all the constraints of your old life had fallen away and all that mattered was this moment, this primal act of mating.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips meeting Agatha's thrusts eagerly. "Please, mark me. Claim me. I'm yours."

Your words seemed to spur Agatha on, and she picked up the pace, fucking into you with a ferocity that bordered on violence. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as she took you harder and faster than you ever thought possible.

And then, without warning, she was there, her knot swelling inside you, locking her in place as she finally found his release. You felt her cock pulsing inside you, felt the warm rush of her seed filling you up as she came with a roar of triumph.

The sensation of being claimed so completely sent you over the edge, and you came with a scream of ecstasy, your body milking Agatha's cock for every last drop of her essence.

You collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, both of you panting and sated as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded. Agatha stayed buried inside you, her knot keeping her in place as she nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent with a contented sigh.

"That was incredible," she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. "But don't think we're done yet, my little omega. I've got a lot more to show you."

A thrill of anticipation shot through you at her words, even as exhaustion tugged at your limbs. You knew this was just the beginning, knew that Agatha would demand your submission over and over again until you were thoroughly claimed and mated.

But for now, all you could do was bask in the afterglow of your first true mating, knowing that your life would never be the same again.

From that night, your transformation was complete, irreversible. You woke in Agatha's arms, marked in ways you couldn't yet understand. The ache that had consumed you was gone, replaced by something deeper—a connection that bound you to her. You were hers, every part of you attuned to the alpha who had made you this way.

Your husband came looking for you days later, frantic and confused. Agatha welcomed him with a cool smile, standing tall and unyielding at her doorway as she blocked his frantic attempts to push past her.

“She doesn’t belong to you anymore,” she said, her voice smooth, her words cutting like a blade. “You couldn’t handle what she’s become. Let her go.”

The scent of your omega status wafted through the air, reaching him like a slap to the face. His eyes filled with despair as realization struck. He couldn’t argue. There was no fighting the primal laws of biology.

From the shadows, you watched, torn between guilt and the overwhelming relief of having Agatha’s arms around you. She caught your gaze over her shoulder, her smirk cold, victorious.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she murmured, shutting the door in your husband’s face with a finality that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll take care of you now. No one else ever could.”

Agatha didn’t just claim you; she consumed you. Every part of your life, every piece of who you had been, was now wrapped around her. And as much as a part of you still resisted, another part—darker, hungrier—craved her attention, her dominance, her endless power.

She molded you into her perfect vision of an omega, lavishing you with touches and whispers that lingered long after they ended. Your world shrank to her presence, her approval, her praise. Each moment of submission felt intoxicating, as though her dominance filled an empty space you’d never known existed.

And though her methods were dark, her spell forbidden, Agatha would argue it was a fair exchange.

After all, wasn’t it her right, as an Alpha, to finally have what she deserved?

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, comment and follow 💜 Kudos!

[imloyaltoscoups]

triangle | xu minghao

You and Hao were sitting on the couch, casually chatting about something neither of you would remember later. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him, but your thoughts weren’t entirely on the topic. You had something else in mind (his lips).

As he talked, you found yourself staring at his lips, unable to resist the temptation. You decided to give it a shot—"the triangle method" you saw this on your feed last time and wanted to check if this is legit. Slowly, you glanced at his eyes, then his lips, and then back to his eyes again.

Minghao didn’t pause. He didn’t even blink.

Instead, he leaned in and gave you a quick, soft kiss before pulling back and continuing the conversation as though nothing had happened. His expression was still nonchalant, so perfectly composed, that you thought he hadn’t even noticed what you were trying to do.

You blinked, a little stunned, and sat there quietly as he kept talking. Does he not know about that method? you wondered. Did he kiss me by accident? The questions swirled in your mind, but you didn’t voice any of them.

Then, out of nowhere, he turned to you with a sly grin. “If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so,” he teased, his tone mocking but still playful.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, and you glared at him. “I wasn’t—!” you started, but he raised an eyebrow knowingly, cutting you off without a word.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Okay, fine. Would you have kissed me if I asked???”

His response was immediate. “No.” His expression didn’t waver, completely unfazed.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, turning your face away from him. He chuckled at your reaction, finding your little pout adorable. Without missing a beat, he reached over and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer until you were perched on his lap.

Startled, you looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” you muttered, your sulking tone still evident.

Minghao leaned back against the couch, his arms loosely wrapped around you. “Don’t sulk,” he said with a smirk, clearly enjoying your annoyed state.

“I’m not sulking,” you shot back, though your pout betrayed your words.

His laughter was soft and warm, and before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pecked your lips. “Sorry,” he murmured softly.

Another peck. “I’m…”

And another. “…so…”

One more, his lips lingering just a second longer this time. “…sorry.”

Your sulkiness melted away as his kisses continued, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly. “You’re only sorry because you feel bad for teasing me,” you said, though your words lacked any real bite.

“Maybee,” he admitted with a shrug, his hands tightening around your waist. “But you’re so cute when you get pouty.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “You always need to have the last word hu?,” you muttered, leaning forward to kiss him properly this time.

....... ≿━━━━━༺MINGHAO༻━━━━━≾ .......

[noonmutter]

Tie between Maleficent and Teeth.

Maleficent was just aggravating because it insisted on turning a staggering badass of a Disney villain who had a perfectly valid villain motivation (she's a goddamn fae and royalty snubbed her) into yet another boring woobie who was totes justified and The Protagonist, Actually, against a completely unserious weenis of an enemy. Coulda been a movie totally unconnected from Maleficent and been fine, but nah, gotta make it Maleficent. And then to add insult to injury, people fucking love it, most of them because they've never seen Sleeping Beauty, and even if they did, they don't care because Maleficent Is In The Right Now. Stop un-villainizing villains you fucking cowards.

I maintain that Teeth only has the accolades it does because any kind of described trauma to the penis makes penis-havers uncomfortable. It takes almost no effort to do that, the movie hardly shows a damn thing at any point, there's just a lot of implication and guys squealing and it ends as another generic rape revenge fantasy. It's not empowering, it's just a dumb, bad, boring movie.

Also: fuck Mortal Kombat Annihilation. No further explanation deserved.

Also also: fuck Titanic. Titanic fucking sucked. I don't care what anybody else says it sucked.

What would you guys consider the worst movie you've ever seen? Not something that's fun to make fun of, nothing you ironically enjoyed, I mean just an absolutely miserable moviegoing experience that you paid for, hated every second, and wish you had walked out of and asked for a refund.

For me, no joke, Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. It did not even feel like a real movie to me. It made me see red! I was SEETHING with anger and annoyance throughout the entire thing, and I cannot for the life of me articulate why. I saw it once in 2012 when I was 15, I remember almost nothing about it now, but it struck a nerve with me like no other movie ever has before or since.

Tell me in the tags, which movie makes you disproportionately angry just thinking about it?

[kashverse]

dadkuna and wife!reader being all lovey dovey and their daughter barges in to protect her mama😭

i don't usually write suggestive content on here but this made me laugh so here you go [there won't be a part two or a smut continuation of this, sorry <3]

the moment your daughter finally knocks out early, sukuna is on you. "you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this," he mutters against your lips, hands already sliding under your shirt. you smirk, pressing yourself closer to him, fingers curling around the zipper of his hoodie. "oh, i think i do." his eyes darken. "yeah?"

"mhmm," you hum, leaning in. "no meetings. no interruptions. no—" 

a bloodcurdling screech shatters the moment. before you can even react, something comes flying at full speed straight toward sukuna’s perfectly sculpted jawline. BAM. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?" 

"BAD WORD!" 

you and sukuna whip your heads toward the doorway. your daughter stands there, fists clenched, breathing heavily, eyes wild. "papa, leave mama alone!" 

sukuna, rubbing his jaw, glares at the object that assaulted him. it’s a labubu. he blinks. then looks back at his daughter. "did you just throw a fucking—" 

"BAD WORD!" 

"—a freaking toy at me?" 

"YES!" she stomps her foot. "leave mama alone, mean man!" 

you slap a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh. sukuna looks at you, betrayed. "oh, don’t even," you snicker. "you made her watch wonder woman before bed." 

"so what?" he huffs. "the kid should have taste." 

"so—" you gesture at your daughter, who is currently braced for battle. "congratulations. you just made yourself the villain." 

"i’m her fucking father!" 

"BAD WORD!" 

sukuna groans, running a hand down his face. your daughter glares at him. "say sorry to mama!" 

"for what?" 

"FOR BEING MEAN!" 

"i wasn’t—" sukuna stops. inhales. exhales. 

"…fine," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "sorry." 

"hmph!" your daughter huffs, satisfied. "good!" then, with the self-righteous air of a tiny vigilante, she marches back to her room. you wait until the door clicks shut. then you collapse against sukuna, howling.

"shut the fuck up," he grumbles, rubbing his jaw again. "bad word," you mock, grinning. sukuna glares at you. then, suddenly, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you flush against him. "oh?" you blink, breath hitching. 

"kid’s asleep again," he murmurs, voice lower, rougher, hands sliding down your back. "what were we doing before that little cockblock?" your face heats up. "you were whining about not getting laid." he hums, pressing his lips to your jaw. "and are you gonna fix that problem, baby?" you smirk, wrapping your arms around his neck. "that depends." 

"on what?" 

"whether or not you get knocked out by another labubu."

[robertsfloyd]

i feel like these pictures perfectly capture the vibes of alpha carlos and omega lando

(alpha carlos x omega reader x omega lando)

warnings: 18+, smut, abo dynamics, threesome, knotting mentioned (a lot)

lando whined pathetically in your ear as he rutted into you. his eyes were screwed shut as carlos grabbed his hips, controlling the way he fucked you. 

god, it was amazing. 

"you're doing so good, omega," carlos whispered as he kissed landos shoulder. 

a whimper left you lips. lando was getting the praise you wanted, praise you deserved. it wasn't fair. it wasn't fucking fair!

you pouted, looking utterly pathetic as lando thrust into you. you weren’t getting praise and you werent getting the knot. 

not fucking fair. 

suddenly, your alpha grabbed you chin. "what the fuck are you pouting at?" he growled, eyes shining with challenge. 

you opened your mouth to spit something at him. maybe just spit at him. before you could decide, he slipped his thumb into your mouth. 

your eyes rolled back as you sucked on his thumb. "there she is," he whispered gently, still holding all of the power. "there's my pretty omega. there's my good girl." 

your body became hot under his praises, but it was exactly what you needed. you moved your hips in time with lando, working with him until you both came. 

two omegas, cumming together. was there anything more  beautiful? you could think of one thing; the knot at the base of his cock swelling and locking you together. but lando's omega cock did no such thing, slipping out of you easily. 

he laid down beside you, curling close to you. a purr rumbled up from your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. he nuzzled the top of your head, arms locking around you as you wrapped your legs around. 

"look at you both," carlos mused as he stared down at the both of you. "so precious." 

you and lando couldn't help but project your happy scents as you rubbed against each other. two omegas, perfectly content in the nest you built together, the nest you shared. 

all that was missing was your alpha.

he stood just outside of your nest. watching you. you caught his gaze, piercing and so damn intense. even after you had your fill of lando, you still wanted his knot. and lando wanted it too.

back at the beginning, when carlos and lando first pulled you between them to scent and mark you, you and lando got into several fights. it was over silly little things; who got to pick what fabrics went into the nest, who got to sit on carlos's knot first, who had to wait for it to deflate.

you were a little more feral than lando was. he was all cute omega growls, all bark and no bite. you were bark and you were bite.

scratch marks on his cheek, bitemarks on his wrists. you lost count of the amount of times carlos pulled you away. but he was an alpha inexperienced with an omega like you, didn't know how to sort out the poblem.

it was unfair, at least in lando's eyes, that you had been placated with carlos's knot while he sorted out the nest. he was always a good omega, had been a good omega to carlos for years. yet, here you were, getting what you wanted because you shouted the loudest.

and you looked like the cat that got the cream.

but that was months ago. months and months and months ago. now, it was you and lando against the world. if carlos wasn't going to knot you? fine. he could watch while you and lando rode knotting toys, holding each others hands.

before you came along, lando was a good omega. he got praises and kisses at every turn. he still got praises and kisses, you got them too, but they weren't deserved.

but carlos sainz was a sucker for his omegas.

just a lil blurb bc i can't stop thinking about these two

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

hmmm it is Tigris+Coryo Thoughts Hour

[thepixelatedcactus]

flying the original character artist flag with pride