#It means more than any 'thank you' could say B'*)

[cosmicdahlias]

Low Honor, Lower Morals

an arthur morgan x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: noncon, mild age gap (reader is in their 20’s), threatening you with a gun, stalking mention, kidnapping, corruption, unwillingly enjoying it, biting, forced orgasm, slapping, cumming in your mouth, drugging, taking your virginity, bondage, impreg, alt ending w/ stockholm syndrome

okay this is a short break from my usual ford pines fics. rdr2 has been all over my tiktok fyp and it’s reignited my hoe tendencies for arthur, i love me that cowboy. i’ve always headcanoned that low honor arthur is a sick sadistic fuck who doesn’t take no for an answer, especially when it’s a pretty damsel he just saved. i mean a hero deserves his reward after all. i couldn’t decide which ending i liked more so i included both, idk i always loved the idea of the rough abuser turning sweet at the end ghxbwhxbdh

You were cornered by a gang of thugs. They had been catcalling you as you walked home on the streets of Saint Denis. You tried to run, but they pounced on you before you had the chance, dragging you into a dark alley. You didn’t know if they were there to mug you… or worse.

The leader of the group brandished a gun and held it under your chin.

“P-please, just take my money, I won’t tell anyone.” You said, tears streaming down your face.

“Oh we want something even better than money.” The leader grinned darkly.

You shut your eyes tightly, praying it would be over soon and your life would be spared, when you heard the click of boots and the cocking of a revolver. You expected to be shot at any moment, instead hearing a voice that didn’t match any of your captors.

“Step away from the kid or pay with your life.”

You opened your eyes and turned your head to the source of the voice and saw the outline of a man illuminated by the street lamps. Mercy, you were saved.

The leader scoffed, turning his gun to the mystery man. “Oh yeah? And what’re you gonna do about it? It’s 4 against one, pal. Step closer and see what happens when you-“

Before he could finish his sentence the stranger shot him dead. He collapsed on the ground with a sickening thud. You barely had a chance to take in a breath or blink before he quickly dispatched of the other three.

You stood there, shaking like a leaf. The stranger approached you. He was tall and as he stepped closer and you could make out his facial features, he was quite attractive.

“Thank you Mr.-“

“Morgan.” He said in his deep rural accent.

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. For a second there I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me. How can I ever repay you? I have money, not much, but hopefully enough to-“

“Oh I don’t need money, but there’s somethin’ else you can do for me.” He chuckled, pulling you in by the waist.

You blushed. “Well how could I say no to the man who saved me?”

You took his face in your hands and kissed him deeply, the whiskers of his beard tickling your lips. He tasted of whiskey and cigarettes.

You stepped back and he looked down at you, like he was waiting for something. When the realization of that “something” hit you your face turned an even deeper scarlet.

“Oh, umm I’m flattered, Mr. Morgan, truly. You’re very handsome, but… I’m saving myself for marriage.”

He chuckled again. “Well sweetheart the thing about me is-“ he pulled out his revolver. “I don’t take “no” for an answer.”

You felt your stomach drop.

“B- but, I thought-“

He gave a sinister laugh. “You thought what? That I’m some kinda honorable man? I’m an outlaw, I take what I want. You think I just happened to find you like that? No, I saw you days ago, followed you everywhere, waitin’ for the perfect opportunity, hell I even know where you live. You kept your door locked and I almost gave up, but then tonight you were stupid enough to hit the town by yourself with no man to accompany you. Honestly this is for your own good, I’m teachin’ you a lesson.”

You were horrified, your savior had become your assailant.

“Now, listen to me closely. I got a room nearby, we’re going to make our way there and if you so much as try to run or even scream, I’ll kill you where you stand. You got that?”

You nodded, tears forming again. The both of you began walking, his gun pressed against your back the whole way. You opened the doors to the saloon, hoping, praying that someone would see what was happening and intervene. But you were greeted with apathetic patrons who didn’t even so much as look your way. No one was coming to save you.

“You squeal to any of these folks and you’re as good as dead.” He whispered as you ascended the staircase.

You reached his room and he unlocked the door. He shut it behind you and pushed you up against it. You tried to free yourself from his grasp.

“Fight me all you want, I love when my prey don’t go down easy.” He growled menacingly in your ear.

He kissed you aggressively, hands unceremoniously pulling off your clothes. You didn’t struggle, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He looked down at your exposed body.

“Shoot, I see why those men wanted you so bad. You could pose for them erotic pictures, make men go wild.”

He picked you up effortlessly and tossed you down onto the bed. He hovered above you before lowering his head between your thighs.

“Now, I might be an outlaw, but I’m still gentleman. Not that you’d know the difference, bein’ a virgin and all. Bet you have no idea what I’m about to even do to you, but I think you’ll like it.”

You had no experience with anything sexual, but Arthur had spent more than enough time with women of the night to know his way around pussy. He took great pleasure in the idea of corrupting you, to bring you down into the dirty, depraved world of an outlaw.

You gasped as his mouth found your clit. You’d never even touched yourself before, the sensation felt incredibly foreign, but so good. You hated it, you hated how good you felt being touched like this against your will. You involuntarily moaned.

“Good, that’s it. See? I told you you’d enjoy this.”

“Mr. Morgan, please sto-“

“Call me Arthur.”

You whimpered as he sucked on your clit.

“Come on, darlin’ say my name. I wanna hear it come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

You were silent.

He bit down hard on your thigh. “I SAID SAY MY NAME GODDAMMIT!”

“A-Arthur.”

“That’s better, listen to me next time because after this I’m done bein’ nice.”

He slipped two fingers in you, curling them at your g-spot. You cried out in horrified pleasure. His tongue rapidly circled your clit.

“Feels good, don’t it?”

You nodded, afraid of what would happen if you didn’t respond. He quickened his pace and something in you shifted, the pleasure felt overwhelming, as if you were about to explode. Your back arched off the bed, Arthur seized your waist and held you down.

“Already? Damn, I forgot how easy it is to make you virgins cum. That’s it, cum for me. Though I doubt you have any clue what that means, huh?”

His fingers fucked you intensely, tongue lashing at your clit. You shook, your breathing rapid. You were so overwhelmed that you seized a fistful of Arthur’s hair unintentionally. You froze, thinking you would be punished.

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s it. Enjoying yourself now, aren’t you?”

He growled into your clit, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. You felt yourself unwillingly bucking your hips into his mouth. Shockwaves of pleasure rolled through you, your walls contracted around his fingers. You moaned loudly, screaming every curse word under the sun. Slowly your breathing settled, the indescribable feeling subsiding.

Arthur chuckled darkly. “It’s always the innocent ones like you who get into it, you just don’t know how to enjoy yourself until a real man comes along. Bet you drive the boys ‘round here crazy, turnin’ ‘em down left and right, tryin’a be a good one, all proper like. Sooner or later this was bound to happen to you, you’re just lucky it was a man like me with some dignity to eat your pussy first. But now it’s my turn, you’re gonna suck me off.”

You stared up at him, you had zero idea what he meant.

“Jesus, do I have‘ta do everything myself?”

He grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the floor, then pulled you up to your knees by your arm. He started undoing his belt, pulling out his cock. Your eyes widened, you’d never seen a man’s length before, only in a stolen glance of an anatomy textbook at the library, but even you knew he was way bigger than average.

“I- I don’t know if it’ll-“

He smirked. “Fit? Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

He seized your hair and forced your mouth onto his cock. You gagged, trying to pull back, but he only shoved himself deeper. Your teeth scraped his shaft.

He slapped you hard across the face. “HEY! Watch the teeth.”

He thrust hard and fast into your mouth, any possible enjoyment you could’ve had was gone. This was torture, you felt like your jaw was going to dislocate. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.

“You’re takin’ my cock so good, you sure you never done this before?”

He bucked into your mouth furiously, you choked, saliva dripping from your mouth. He was relentless, he didn’t care if you hated it, he was going to use you. This is what you got for turning down his advances.

His breath hitched and his hips stuttered.

“Fuckin’ god, your mouth feels so good.” He moaned breathlessly.

His grip on your hair tightened. All of this was new to you but you had enough sense to know he was close to what you had experienced minutes prior. He attempted to pull out, not wanting to cum yet, but it was too late. He groaned loudly and spilled into your mouth, a bitter, salty taste flooding your tongue. You made a motion to spit, but Arthur clasped a hand over your mouth.

“Ah ah, swallow, all of it.”

You reluctantly let the warm cum go down your throat, you shuddered.

He gathered a drop of cum on his thumb from your chin, putting it in your mouth.

“Look at you, swallowing my cum like a whore.”

You stood up, looking at the door. Arthur pulled small bottle of liquid and a rag out of his satchel, he doused the cloth in the liquid. He stepped towards you.

“Since I came in that pretty mouth we’re gonna have’ta take a break, but this is just in case you think of runnin’.”

You made a motion to run but Arthur seized your wrist, pulling you to him, his chest pressed against your back.

“As if you could outrun me.” He smirked, shoving the rag over your face.

The smell of chemicals hit you as you tried to fight it, but you felt your eyelids grow heavy, falling to the floor.

-

You awoke god knows how much later on the bed, your eyes struggled go focus. All you could see was a figure on top of you. You blinked, Arthur came into focus, he had removed his clothes. He was so close you could smell him, a mixture of leather and wood with a hint of musk.

“Rise n’ shine, princess.” He said, kissing your neck. “I was startin’ to get impatient. I wanted you to be awake for this.”

He grunted as he tried to slip himself inside you.

“Goddam, you’re tight. Try to relax, I promise it’ll feel good.”

He pressed his tip at your entrance, slowly sliding himself in. You winced and clenched around him.

“Eeeeeasy. I know you don’t want it, but it’ll be so much better if you just accept it.”

He tried to ease his way in gently, but couldn’t help himself. He slammed his full length into you. You screamed from the pain, it felt like you were being split open. Arthur shoved his hand over your mouth.

“Quiet down, you tryin’a let everyone know that I’m takin’ your virginity?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks.

Arthur scoffed. “Now what good is that gonna do you? No one’s here to save you so quit your cryin’.”

You tried fighting the tears, you still broke down and sobbed, you just wanted this to end, if he killed you after he was done you’d welcome it.

He hit you brutally with the back of his hand. “I TOLD YOU TO QUIT CRYIN’!”

Your head snapped to the side, ears ringing. You stared at him in shock, blood trickled from your nose. Your rage boiled. You tried to throw a punch at him, but he caught your fist.

“Looks like you still got a little bit‘a fight left in you.”

He got off you, for a second you thought he was going to reach for his gun, but instead he pulled out a rope. He bound your wrists together with precision above your head. He must’ve done this hundreds of times before. He sunk himself back into you with a loud groan, fucking you violently.

“There. I love feelin’ you struggle, but I can’t risk you takin’ swings at me, princess.”

You spat angrily in his face. “I’m NOT your princess.”

He took your spit in his fingers, licking it. “God, you’re cute when you’re pissed.”

“Fuck you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that sweetheart, you said it yourself, I’m handsome. I know there’s a part’a you that loves this. Here, I know somethin’ that’ll fix your attitude.”

He reached a hand down and stroked your clit, you reflexively tightened around him.

“Good god, you’re squeezin’ my cock to death. I didn’t know pussy could get this tight.”

He leaned down and bit roughly on your neck, you cried out, he then wrapped a hand around your throat, the other still circling your pussy. You gasped, trying to breathe and failing, you struggled at your restraints, trying to push away his hand.

“You poor thing. Can’t breathe can ya? Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you said “no” to me. We could’a made love, but I’m afraid you asked for this. Maybe now you’ll learn to not turn away the man that saved you from bein’ gang raped in an alley and left for dead.”

You had always imagined your first time, being wrapped in a loving embrace in the arms of your new husband on your wedding night, gentle caresses from a caring gentleman who could never hurt you. Yet here you found yourself, being torn apart by a vicious outlaw. He was raw, animalistic, ripping into you like a wolf that hungered for your blood and flesh.

His breathing hitched again, by now you knew well enough to sense what was coming next. He sped up his fingers on your clit, you were close too.

“Fuckin’ shit, that tight little pussy is gonna make me cum. And I ain’t pullin’ out, I don’t give two fucks if I knock you up. But first you’re gonna cum on my cock.”

His fingers worked you over, you bit down on his shoulder, overstimulated.

“Yeah, feels good don’t it? Almost too much to handle, huh?”

Your breathing was quick, you shook as your orgasm overtook you, your head snapped back as every cell in your body was electrified in pleasure. The shame of cumming twice to a man out of wedlock was setting in, but Arthur gave you no time to process your feelings.

He pounded you into the mattress at a blinding speed, the bed creaking and groaning as the headboard repeatedly slammed into the wall. He bent you in half, taking your legs over his shoulders, digging his nails into your ankles. In this position your ability to breathe was negligible.

He gritted his teeth and growled as he shot load after load of cum into you, you felt the warmth of it inside you. He panted, letting out a satisfied sigh. He pulled out and flopped over next to you. You started crying again, terrified that he had impregnated you.

“Jesus, what are you so upset about? Get dressed.”

He untied your wrists and you quickly pulled your clothes back on between choking back tears.

“Now, as much as I’d love to keep you here, I got important business to take care of. I’m bein’ nice and lettin’ you go. But if find out you told a single living soul what happened tonight, I’ll hunt you down and fuckin’ kill you. So run, get the hell out of here before I change my mind and spare myself the trouble by just killin’ you now.”

You were frozen, you guessed this was what shock felt like. He pulled out his revolver.

“RUN!” He shouted.

You flung the door open and fled down the hall, the fear of Arthur deciding to just go ahead and kill you never leaving your mind. You burst open the doors of the saloon, tumbling onto the street. You quickly picked yourself up and took off running all the way home, not once daring to look back.

When you got home you broke down, crying yourself to sleep.

alt ending:

He gritted his teeth and growled as he shot load after load of cum into you, feeling the warmth of it inside you. He panted, letting out a satisfied sigh. He pulled out and flopped over next to you. You started crying again, terrified that he had impregnated you. Arthur untied your wrists and pulled you against his chest, stroking your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

He soothed you like a wounded animal, his deep voice speaking gently. “Easy now, shhh. You did so good for me, you know that?”

You nodded. Despite all the aggression and threats that he had showed tonight you started to feel comforted, safe almost. You pulled yourself up to be level with his face, you looked into his eyes, there was almost a softness in them that he hadn’t shown before. You laced your fingers in his hair and kissed him passionately. His cheeks turned pink, he wasn’t expecting that.

“You finally startin’ to come around to me?” He chuckled.

You laid your head back on his chest. “I guess I am, Arthur.”

His heart thumped in his chest, god his name sounded incredible coming out of your mouth. He ran a calloused hand up and down your back.

“Tell you what, I’ll cut you a deal. You can either leave now and I won’t stop you, or you can stay here with me. What’ll it be, princess?”

The pet name you despised mere minutes ago was growing on you.

“I’ll stay.” You said, moving up to kiss him again.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.” He purred.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[triglycercule]

killer should know about dumb video game meta stuff ike i-frames and animation cancels and critting amd breaking out of bounds and use it to his advantage in fights. maybe he learned it from chara in something new as a silly little thing to try out because theyre already teaching him all this bullshit on killing so whos to say a video game character cant learn a player's cheats?? he's already interacted and collaborated with a player before i think its fair he knows tricks on how to cheat undertale's fighting system

everything's all fine and dandy in a fight against killer (no it isn't) until you see him glitching around and somehow phasing through your attacks. he looks ridiculous but it gets the job done

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[intoxicated-chan]

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

[demonicbaby666]

Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww

Packing Heat

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.8k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader

Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.

A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!

When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away. 

She never did, though, until one uneventful evening. 

Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought. 

It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog. 

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?" 

You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.

"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."

Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question. 

"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.

"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company." 

The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's. 

When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile. 

Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment. 

"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks. 

Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route. 

Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing. 

The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh. 

"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers. 

With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch. 

You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down. 

"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble. 

Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements. 

The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.

"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?" 

Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust. 

"That's a good girl." 

Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance. 

Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field. 

There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb. 

The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk. 

"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her. 

She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs. 

You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.

"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth. 

Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her. 

For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did. 

Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told. 

"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.

Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt. 

"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further. 

The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked. 

With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless. 

In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests. 

She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless. 

The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about. 

"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks. 

She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers. 

"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head. 

She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.

"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn. 

You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away. 

"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown. 

She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick. 

The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her. 

"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat. 

Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you. 

"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious. 

You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears. 

With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.

"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.  

You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far. 

With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?" 

When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance. 

"Get up." 

Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified. 

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet. 

Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye. 

With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest. 

The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back. 

The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was. 

Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours. 

"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?" 

"Emily, please," you begged. 

"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing." 

"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."

Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"

If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that. 

It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk. 

"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?" 

The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you. 

As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement. 

You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly. 

"Did I say you could do that?" 

Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle. 

"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on." 

You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities. 

"Beg," she instructed. 

And you heeded. 

"Please. I need you." 

"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it. 

You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it." 

"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching. 

It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm. 

Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office. 

What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second. 

"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."

With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust. 

"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."

Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand. 

"You'd better be quiet then." 

Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be. 

"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming. 

Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily. 

"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming." 

"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk." 

She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm. 

When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore. 

"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile. 

"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door. 

"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed." 

"But-" 

"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs. 

"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans. 

Tags: @ssa-sapphic @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @jenna-ortega-is-pretty17177 @supercorpstan97 @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @imlike-so-gaydude @maybe-a-humanbean @taylorswiftsboyfriend @bossofcriminalminds @asphodelvamp @jareguiromanoff @lilfartbox1 @lovelyy-moonlight @patronagrona @lostenby @storiesofsvu @mrs-prentiss @romanoffsho @paulilvsremus @waitaminutebaby @jarexuslover @lesbodietcoke @homo-oddity @milfsincrime @noahrex @pnsteblnme @asolitaryrose3 | click here to be added to my taglist

[luveline]

Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕

thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k

“Spencer?” 

Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?” 

“Is this okay?” 

You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt. 

The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin. 

You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.” 

Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing.  “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush. 

“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say. 

“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.” 

You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.” 

“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours. 

“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says. 

“What if we have a case?” 

“That’s a better reason to go shopping.” 

You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?” 

Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says. 

“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.

“You really are glowing.” 

“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place. 

“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.” 

“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek. 

You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing. 

You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time. 

“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks. 

You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness. 

He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home. 

“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed. 

“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says. 

You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk. 

“Yes,” Spencer says. 

You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.” 

“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly. 

You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek. 

“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen. 

You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles. 

“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”

She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs. 

You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another. 

Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee. 

You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room. 

“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan. 

“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says. 

“Or not,” JJ says with a frown. 

“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.” 

You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time. 

“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.” 

“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks. 

No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?” 

“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.

“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin. 

“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.” 

You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately. 

“And what’s with the water?”

Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?” 

“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts. 

That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field. 

You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too. 

You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to. 

“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.” 

“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?” 

“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished. 

You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask. 

The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide. 

Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively. 

You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.” 

[silent-stories]

𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: lying in bed with jj, you see the bruises on his stomach.

"You know that you snore?" You ask the boy lying in your bed, next to you, one arm under the pillow and the other thrown lazily around your waist.

That morning, it's hot in your room, but it's not the unbearable hot of the days that makes you want to rip off your skin and find a place with free air conditioning, but the heat that makes you want to stay in bed late before having a cold coffee and go for a walk by the sea with your favorite person.

The sun's rays filter through the open window and in the distance you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the reef.

A soft chuckle escapes JJ's parted lips as a pair of ocean-colored eyes meet yours. "Good morning to you too." His voice is husky but his tone is clearly amused, his hair messy.

It is indeed, a good day, when you wake up in your bed with him next to you but that would be too cheesy to say so early in the morning.

You can't help but smile and before you know it he has you pushed against him and his lips are on yours.

He always tastes like weed, alcohol and the sea.

As he wrap his arm around your waist, the sheet slides off his body, revealing his bare chest and your gaze falls on the bruises on his rib cage, like it did the night before. This time, however, you can't help but observe the dark blue and purple marks on his skin for more than a few seconds.

He looks at you for a moment after breaking the kiss, noticing what caught your attention and with a huff, he drops onto the bed next to you. The matress springs make a slight creak.

"Don't." He says.

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." His eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

You slowly reach out, your fingertips grazing his stomach, delicately tracing the soft outlines of the bruises there.

"I fell, I-"

"Yeah. I know" You want to be mad because he persists in not opening up to you but the look into his eyes lost in the void stops you every time.

You both know you're lying and you both know the other is doing the same.

"You know you can stay here right? Whenever you want."

Your tone is soft as you ask that, turning towards him, resting your elbow on the mattress and settling your head on your hand, looking at his profile: the shape of his lips, the blue of his eyes in the sunlight streaming through the window, a few strands of blonde hair falling on his forehead.

"If... you have any kind of problem, you're welcome here. Any time of the day or night, Jay. You know that, right?"

You only realize you're still tracing imaginary patterns on his skin when you feel his fingers meet yours, his hand on his stomach to find yours and lace your fingers together.

When he finally turns his head towards you, there's a slight smile on his lips and it's not his usual sarcastic smirk or the grin he shows to John B when he is talking about Sarah or when he manages to escape from a cop. It's softer, more sincere.

"I know."

You stare into his clear eyes for a moment and decide to believe him.

You sigh, “okay.”

You don't know how much your offer means to him, you don't know that every other girl he's laid in bed with in the past never cared about a busted lip or a scratch on an arm unless it was ruining his pretty face.

You don't know that if he had been any other girl that morning he wouldn't have stayed in your bed but would have left before the sun even rose.

With you it was different. You cared. And for the first time, he cared too.

Your room wasn't like his house or even like the chateau. It was becoming his favorite place so quickly that it almost amazed him.

And you were becoming his favorite person, but that didn't surprise him that much.

It was getting impossible not to love the sound of your laughter and the way you could reassure him with a simple touch.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You smile and reach out to brush the blonde hair out of his eyes.

His hand was still holding yours.

[pucksandpower]

I have so many thoughts on why this is a horrible idea and not enough words to properly describe it.

The age regulations were put into place for a reason — just because Toto Wolff is obsessed with finding the next Max Verstappen does not mean that Kimi Antonelli should be granted an exception that will only serve to rush his development.

The fact of the matter is that only Max Verstappen is Max Verstappen … forcing Kimi into a struggling Williams team with barely any time in Formula 2 under his belt after completely skipping Formula 3 will only serve to hurt him.

Kimi Antonelli deserves time to develop. He deserves time to at least finish a feeder series season before being thrown straight from the frying pan into the fire. There are very few cases in which rushing young athletes does not ultimately cause more harm than good.

On the other side of the coin, dropping Logan Sargeant (and doing so in the middle of the season) has the potential to massively hurt Williams from a business standpoint. They are finally in a trajectory to recover financially after years of struggle thanks in large part to the many American sponsors who ended up signing thanks to — you guessed it — them having an American driver in Logan Sargeant. This comes at a time when Williams has already taken numerous hits to its image throughout the earlier races of the season. Considering Formula 1 is just as much about business as it is about what actually happens on the track, I would be concerned about the repercussions that such a move could have.

Now, on to Logan Sargeant himself. It is no secret that he is far from the best driver on the grid, but improving performance requires support from your team, something that has unfortunately been quite spotty to start the season despite the pretty words James Vowles often spins. Logan has been given the short end of the stick race after race after race at a crucial time for his development, the opposite of what any driver that has to prove themselves needs at such a point in their career.

Last, but certainly not least, James Vowles famously said that he is not looking to turn Williams into a “mini-Mercedes” … but is that not exactly what dropping a driver from Williams’ own development program in favor of doing Toto Wolff’s bidding would mean for the team? Williams has no hope of moving away from being viewed as Mercedes’ B-team if their actions directly counteract these words.

I’m sure there is so much more I should say about this, but I hope I managed to adequately explain why I think Williams dropping Logan Sargeant in favor of Kimi Antonelli in the middle of the season has a lot of potential to backfire for all involved.

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter One

I finally have a first chapter out! Finally!! It's a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but like it's here after so long, so I'm happy with it! Plus we get some angry boys in this fic

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Ateez wc: 1.4k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: Angry Joongie/ateez, yelling, mentions of anxiety and fear, angst with some fluff, honestly just the boys are pissed off but mostly it's Hongjoong being royally pissed, I think taht's everything? masterlist

“What do you mean we need another member?!” Hongjoong asked the KQ management team members in front of him.

“We’ve decided that you need something new to add to the group, and that a new member will be the best choice to attract more attention to Ateez.” One of the higher up staff members replied.

“We’ve been fine for five years, why do we need another member?” The captain asked through gritted teeth.

“Look, the decision has been made, there’s nothing more to say. You and the rest of the members will have to prepare to have a new member.” They said, a tone of finality marking the end of the conversation.

“So we’re supposed to just accept whoever the fuck you find into the group, and potentially our pack, without any say?!” Hongjoong exclaimed, fed up with the group of people in front of him at the moment. They really thought they could just spring this news on him and he’d be fine with it?

“It’s in the best interests for Ateez.” Was all that was said, as if it was a sufficient explanation in any way for the upheaval of the status quo for Ateez.

Hongjoong pushed his chair back, standing up and leaving the room quickly, trying to keep his temper under control. Who did they think they were? Ateez had done so much for this company and now they’re haphazardly adding a new member into his group. This changed everything. They’d had to readjust the choreography, the lines for every song, any of the concepts they’ve come up with now have to be adjusted. He stormed into the practice room where the rest of the pack was practicing, and a couple of them flinched at the anger emanating from their captain and pack alpha.

“Hongjoong, are you okay? What did they want to tell you?” Seonghwa asked cautiously, not wanting to anger the man further.

“They want to add a new member to our group. A new member after all this time!” Hongjoong ranted, revealing the news to the rest of the group.

The rest of the group had various reactions of shock, and more than a few were angry at this news being sprung on them. Wooyoung felt the brunt of everyone else’s reactions and curled into himself, while Seonghwa moved to try and calm down Hongjoong, knowing that it wouldn’t be productive to talk while he’s that upset. The eldest member, who also was the head omega, wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pushing out a soothing and calming scent to try and get the captain of their group to calm down. It worked thankfully, and Hongjoong rested his head on the other man’s chest.

“Thank you Hwa.” He softly said to the other man, once he had gathered his emotions and had calmed down significantly. He was still upset, but not as much as he was minutes ago.

“Always.” Seonghwa replied, smiling at the alpha. He brought the pack alpha closer to the rest of the guys, and they all sat down on the floor before starting to talk about what this change means for all of them.

“Did they say how they’re choosing a new member? I assume it’d be another trainee from the company?” Wooyoung queried, his eyes full of curiosity.

“They didn’t get that far before I left.” Hongjoong admitted.

“You could’ve waited around until they told you at least!” Wooyoung whined.

“Wooyoung, quiet down. This is not news any of us were expecting, and even if it was, the expectation is that we would have been included in the conversation. So I don’t blame Joong for storming out. KQ took the choice of having a new member away from us, which isn’t fair on any of us, let alone Hongjoong.” Seonghwa scolded the younger man, who looked properly chided by the end of it.

At that exact moment, Hongjoong’s phone started ringing once again, making the idol frown before answering it.

“Yes?”

The rest of the group watched as Hongjoong listened to whoever was on the other line, not sure what the call was about. Though it wasn’t long before they found out as Hongjoong sighed as he ended the call.

“So, what’s going on now?” San asked their leader.

“They want all of us upstairs for a meeting, right now.” Hongjoong stated.

They all knew this was about the new member, and they all got up from the various places in the room, heading towards the door with the two eldest leading the group. They walked up to the designated meeting room, trudging in to find most of the same group that had been in the earlier meeting with Hongjoong. 

The eight men sat down in the chairs set out for them, and as soon as they’re sitting, one of the management team starts talking, as another hands each of them a pile of thin folders.

“Here are the shortlisted candidates for the ninth member of Ateez. We’ve already held auditions, and these are the smaller number of candidates that we think are suitable for the role of your newest member.” He explained to the group.

“What do you mean you’ve held auditions? Without informing at the very least, Mingi and I?” Hongjoong questioned the man, a frown evident on his face.

“You weren’t needed. You had other pressing matters, so we took the liberty of holding auditions. It doesn’t matter now, you have the information on all 20 shortlisted candidates. We’re bringing them all here to do a final audition, as well as to make sure they fit within Ateez.” The man continued, ignoring any reaction from the two producing members.

Before the captain could retort, Seonghwa’s hand touched his arm, and the pack alpha looked over at his omega, who reminded him non-verbally that he needed to calm down. Getting mad at the company right now wouldn’t be productive. But that didn’t stop others from protesting the company’s decisions.

“Wait! So you’ve gone through this whole process and never thought to even consult us or tell us what you were planning until now, when we’re almost to the point of you choosing a new member?” Wooyoung shouted, staring down the opposite side of the table.

“As I just said, you were all busy and weren’t needed until this point in the process.” The man repeated himself, seeming very tired with having to reiterate his words.

Grumbles and mumbles about the way that KQ management has conducted things so far were heard from Ateez’s side of the table. Their manager picked up where the other man stopped, hoping to calm the boys down, they didn’t need angry alphas, nor a pissed off Ateez pack, it wouldn’t end well for anyone.

“We’ve brought you in now, because this is now more of your decision than it is ours, but we will still have input on the decision. The 20 candidates chosen are arriving tomorrow, and don’t worry, they’ve all been thoroughly checked to ensure they’re not sasaengs.” The manager assured them.

“We’ll look past the issue that you didn’t think to talk to us until now. But why wait to tell us they’re arriving till today and that they will be here tomorrow. There were plenty of opportunities before today, that you could have pulled one of us aside and said something, if not pulled us all into a meeting.” Hongjoong lectured the staff members, thoroughly upset with them and their actions.

“Regardless, this was the major thing we wanted to discuss. Though once the prospective members arrive tomorrow morning, in the afternoon they’ll be here for their final auditions, and to see how well they fit in with you. So you will be required to be here at the company at noon tomorrow.” The first man informed them.

There were huffs from the members who were quick to anger, and especially from the alphas in the pack, and the others had displeased looks on their faces.

“Well, thank you for at least informing us today, instead of springing it on us tomorrow.” Seonghwa cut in, before Hongjoong could say anything. The omega had also grabbed Joongs wrist, trying to calm the anger he could feel coming off of the alpha in waves.

Sadly for Seonghwa, his efforts were for naught.

“I will remember this, and you better hope that there’s someone in your shortlist that I and the rest of the pack can get along with. Or no one will be happy.” Hongjoong said as he pushed his chair back and stood up, prompting the rest of the pack to do the same. With the pack alpha leading the group, they all walked out, leaving the management team behind.

| Next

Taglist: @scarfac3 @smally97 @iyeeeverydee @lxsunshine @ismelllikechlorine247

@fr34k4c1dr41n @ateez-atiny380 @bethelighthalazia @davinashifts333

Taglist is open!

[paigebueckersmommy]

maybe not enemies pt.1 - p.b

paige bueckers x fem!roomate! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, drinking, mean paige kinda?, 1st person

a/n: i am well aware the team rooms togther but act like they don’t for this fic 🥰 also i hate this with every bone in my body.

you and paige had met briefly a few times. all you knew was you two weren’t into the same things.

it was the start of my senior year of college, and i had always taken my academics seriously, but i needed to take them more serious this year, and geting roomed with the schools biggest party animal, caused problems.

i began unpacking the suit case on my bed, waiting for my roomate to arrive. they sent an email with dorm assignments, which your roomate obviously hadn’t seen.

when i heard the door open, i snapped head. “fuck.” you heard a attractive voice say, which you didn’t wanna admit was attractive. “i’m not happy about this either.” you say making eye contact with the blonde.

“how’d you know?” paige says setting stuff down on her bed, “they sent an email.” i say looking back at my stuff.

“well, the best way to handle being roomed with the most boring person on earth, is if we agree to not talk unless it’s needed.” paige said, with an look of annoyance on her face. “agreeed, just please don’t be loud.” you say rolling your eyes, “k.”

time skip to a couple months later

you could tell paige was a little confused by your style when she mostly only ever saw you wearing hoodies, sweatpants and leggings, but tonight was diffrent.

you were standing infront of the mirror on a saturday night, putting lipgloss on. wearing a mini skirt and a mesh long sleeve, a black lacey bra underneath.

“where you going? shouldn’t you be studying or sum shit.” paige said looking you up and down from her bed. “why would it matter to you? but for your infortntion i’m going to a bar with my friends.” i say, looking back at her.

“oh my god!!! she has friends everyone!!” paige says acting suprised, not very good acting. “just because i care about my academics more than you doesn’t make me a nerd.”

“oh please, admit you’re just stating and don’t have any friends.” paige says cocking her head, when jsut then you heard a knock on your door. you opened it, your friends head peaking thru the door. “you almost rea- hey. wanna come?” your friend says, making eye contact with paige mid sentence.

“oh? inviting me? fuck it, yea lemme get dressed.”

you step out of your dorm room, shocked by the interaction. “damn. she barley talks to me i don’t know why she’d wanna come out with-“ you stopped mid sentence when paige walked out of your dorm. she was wearing white pants and a pink crop top, you had only ever seen her wear basketball gear so you were a little shocked at this.

“mm.. she knows how to dress everyone.” you say matching paige’s pace in the hallway as two of your friends were a little in front of you.

“oh i know your not talking. this is the 3rd time ive ever seen you not wear a hoodie. probobly why you don’t have a boyfriend yet.”

“b-boyfriend? i’m sorry, what makes you think i like men?” you say crooking your head words paige, curious. “o-oh i’m sorry, i just-“

“your good. i get a lot that i look straight.. but im lesbian.” you say with a soft smile making eye contact with paige, as you realize she’s also smiling.

“hm. good to know.” paige says, looking your outfit up and down, and that’s whe your mind began spinning.

did i like paige? was she trying to tell me something? were we, not enemies?

you put those thoughts to the side as you reached the doors of the bar. it was a saturday night, so it was crowded but not as crowded as it is on fridays. you, paige and your two friends found spots at the bar, paige sitting next to you as she ordered a round of shots for you two without even asking what you wanted.

“oh? thank you? your not being mean to me for once?” you say out of confusion before downing the shot. “mmm. you don’t look half as bad tonight.”

“could say the same about you.”

pt 2 soon!!!

[buckyshoneybunny]

Their Babydoll

WinterWidow + Shy!Stark!Curvy!reader 

Summary- Bucky and Natasha take a liking to the shy designer. 

W.C.- 2212 

Warnings- Smut, fluff, cursing, unprotected sex, oral (fem, reader), cum eating, let me know if I missed anything. 

A/N- I hope you guys like! Sorry if the smut sucks, I was tired lol. I know these fics are usually Bucky x Reader x Steve but I would want Nat more. Anyway I already have an idea for a new series and it includes Biker Bucky! Not proof read, all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it my lovelies!  

Masterlist 

“Please Uncle Tony!” You beg for the hundredth time.  

“No,” he says, not even looking up from the device he was tweaking.  

“But-” 

“No,” he interrupts you.  

You stick your bottom lip out and give your best puppy eyes. It would always work when you were younger. Now though? 

“No”  

You groan and cross your arms. You smile to yourself. “You know, Aunt Pepper has been wondering what happened to her-” 

“Okay! Okay,” he sighs and pushes the protective glasses further up his nose as he looks at you. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into this.” 

You giggle and lean your hip against the table he’s working at. “You always were afraid of Aunt Pepper.” 

“I’m not afraid of her,” he huffs. “I just happen to have a healthy amount of respect for her.”  

“You’re afraid of her, Tony,” Bruce pipes up from across the lab.  

You giggle as Tony sends you and Bruce a glare.  

“Why do you even want to use the holographic interfaces?” Tony asks. 

“Because it would make designing floor plans so much easier! Using your tech would help me with the critical parts of my job.”  

“But you don’t even know how to use them.” 

“You could teach me.” 

“But I don’t hav-” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffs.  

You squeal and hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”  

He pats your arm, “Yeah yeah.” 

Most people didn’t know Tony had a sister; hell no one knew he actually had any siblings until you showed up with your stuff one rainy day. 

Freshly 19 and ready to make a name for yourself in the world of Interior Design, you’d moved to New York thinking this was the best place to do so. 

Your mother, Tony’s younger sister only by a few years, called to express her worry of you moving there and being alone.  

So, Tony being the ever so giving person he is, and a few not-so-subtle threats from your mother, told you that you could stay at the Avengers Tower. You were furious, ranting about how you wanted to make it on your own and didn’t need any help. But when he mentioned you’d get to meet and spend time with the Avengers, you quickly got over it. 

You were so excited to meet the Avengers, you’d always had a major crush on Bucky. You even wrote a paper about him for your history class in the 6th grade. His sparkling steel blue eyes taking you captive. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, hoping it’s as soft as it looks. And you can’t forget those full, pink lips that could make a gal melt like butter on hot asphalt.  

But he was taken, by your second favorite Avenger, Natasha Romanoff. You definitely had a girl crush on her. She was so strong and skilled, every womans idol. She was the reason you tried and failed at learning how to fight. So what if you were thicker than the other girls? Yeah okay, you had thick thighs, a pudgy, soft stomach and flabby arms, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t learn some moves like the other girls. To be fair though, that instructor was a womanizer. 

He said, and I quote, that you’d ‘never make it anywhere in life looking like that’. Boy did you prove him wrong. You were one of the best Interior Designers in New York, you had a special touch that other designers didn’t have. And you loved your job, you loved bringing peoples dreams to life and seeing the joy on their face.  

You enjoyed it, but it wasn’t always easy. The meticulous planning, writing up contracts, getting a crew for certain aspects in and out on time could be grueling at times, but seeing the looks on your client’s faces when they’d see the finished product was always worth it.  

You had been worried when you first got to the Tower, worried the other Avengers wouldn’t like you. It was all for nothing though because they absolutely loved you, you were a part of their dysfunctional family now and they had no plans of letting you go. Everyone had really taken a liking to you, especially Bucky and Natasha. 

When you introduced yourself to them with your cheeks flushed, hands nervously fidgeting behind your back, and your shy little voice, it made Natasha want to wrap her arms around you and protect you from the world.  

But, on the other hand, seeing your long thick thighs on display, juicy ass just barely covered by the shorts you wore, and your tank top that hugged your curves just right made her’s and Bucky’s mouths water. That body paired with your shy, innocent demeanor made them want to swallow you whole. 

They had been happy just the two of them, rekindling their love once they both were free. They never thought about having someone else in their relationship, never wanted anyone else, until you.  

One knowing look and desire fill conversation later they knew they had to have you. They just had to be careful so they wouldn’t scare you away, and make sure Tony didn’t find out and do something crazy. He was very protective of you. 

So, the next couple of years were spent with heated looks, lingering touches, and subtle hints thrown at you that you never seem to catch. They were tired of this game of chase, frustrated and on a level of horny so high that they couldn’t fuck down no matter how hard they tried. Bucky was this close to fucking up against the closest wall, Natasha not far behind. But they’d soon get what they longed for.  

You studied your reflection in the mirror again. The thin strapped, black dress that stopped mid-thigh, and had a slit going up your left thigh, hugged your body perfectly. You wouldn’t normally wear something so revealing but Wanda said this dress was perfect.  

She’d said you’d definitely be getting fucked tonight. She may or may not have read Bucky and Natasha’s minds and knew this dress would make them lose it.  

Tonight was Sam’s birthday party, although his birthday wasn’t for two more days, he’d be in Louisiana visiting his sister so Steve wanted to throw him a party before he left.  

Making sure your curls were perfect, you sprayed on some perfume and put some black heels on and headed down to the floor the party was being held at. 

Natasha and Bucky were sat at the bar area, formulating a plan on how to make you theirs. Natasha wore an off the shoulder, floor length, blood red dress that fit her just right, with matching lipstick and heels.  

Bucky had a tailor-made, black suit that showed his defined muscles. His face clean-shaven, displaying his sharp jaw and his hair tied back in that low, sexy bun he’s always sporting.  

Natasha was the first to see you, choking on her drink as she takes you in, causing Bucky to follow her line of sight. His cock rock hard instantly. She bit her lip and one shared glance; they knew tonight was the night and they had just the plan to do it. 

You lock eyes with Natasha and she beckons you over.  

“Look at you, firefly,” she grins and you blush.  

Bucky whistles and looks you up and down. “You’d give poor old Steve a heart attack in that dress, doll. You look amazing.”  

“You think so?” You shyly ask. 

“Definitely,” Natasha adds.  

You begrudgingly do a shot with them after the persisted you do at least one to help loosen you up, even though they knew you didn’t like alcohol. They didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, not that you minded, you loved being the center of their attention. They were waiting for the perfect moment to sneak you away, that moment came after the cake and presents, everyone having gone back to drinking and dancing.  

Natasha loops her arm with yours. “So, firefly,” she smirks. “Me and Bucky were thinking of changing up our room, think you could help us?” There a devious sparkle in her eyes that you miss. 

Your eyes light up. “Yes!” You smile.  

They lead you away from the party and up to their room. Once inside Bucky locks the door. You look around as Natasha comes up behind you and puts her hands on your waist. She runs her nose up the side of your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. You freeze. 

“Nat?” You ask on a shaky whisper.  

“Yes, firefly?” She nibbles on your ear, causing you to shudder. 

Bucky stands in front of you and cups your face, tilting your head to make you look at him. His lips inches from yours. Your follow-up question gets stuck in your throat. 

“Do you know,” Bucky starts, leaning forward to nudge his nose with yours. 

“How long we’ve been waiting for you?” Natasha finishes, kissing your shoulder. 

“What?” You ask through the already forming fog in your brain. 

“We want you, firefly. Will you let us have you?” She slides her hands up to just under your boobs, waiting for your consent. You whimper and nod. 

“Words doll,” Bucky says. 

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.  

Bucky smashes his lips to yours as Natasha cups your boobs, squeezing them. You moan and grab Bucky’s forearms.  

He steps back and takes his suit jacket off, instructing Nat to take your dress off. She slowly unzips the dress and pushes the straps off your shoulders. It gets bunched around your middle, you blush, insecurities sneaking up on you. She just pushes it the rest of the way down. 

Your hands itch to cover yourself but stop when Bucky lets out a deep groan. He whispers a fuck and reaches down to squeeze his throbbing cock. You let out a whine. 

“Get on the bed and spread those gorgeous thighs, doll,” he rasps. His eyes black with lust. Your bra and panties come off and you get on the bed, laying on your back and shyly spreading your thighs.  

Natasha moans. “Look at her Buck.” He hums and pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing she had nothing on underneath. He groans and kisses her; she unbuttons his shirt. You whine, more slick coming out and coating your folds. They break apart and grin. 

While Bucky finishes taking his clothes off, Natasha comes beside you and starts to play with your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples causing you to moan. Bucky, now naked, kneels between your legs, taking in the sight of your soaked pussy.  

“Already so wet and we’ve hardly touched you babydoll,” he taunts. You whine, the feeling of his hot breath causing you to shudder. 

“Don’t tease her Buck,” Natasha says as she takes one of your nipples into her mouth.  

She nips lightly at the bud as Bucky presses his tongue to your clit, you let out a high-pitched moan and grip his hair. As she teases your nipples, Bucky eats you out like a starved man, mumbling out how good you taste in between slurps and gasps of breath. 

Bucky can’t handle it anymore and stands up before you can cum. “I gotta be in you, doll, fuck.” He gets in between your legs and lines his leaking tip up with your entrance.  

He slowly slides in and your eyes roll back. He gives you a second once he bottoms out, letting you adjust. Natasha rubs your clit as he starts to move. 

“How does she feel?” She asks 

“S’fucking good, so tight, shit” He groans and pounds into you. 

Natasha oscillates between making out with you and sucking you breasts and leaving hickies. She keeps rubbing your clit. You grip the sheets, panting and moaning. Bucky angles his thrusts just right and you scream as he hits that spot inside of you that causes you to see stars. 

“I-I’m go-....gonna...” You can’t even finish your sentence. 

He speeds up his thrusts, “Cum, doll, soak my cock.” 

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you squirt, soaking his balls, thighs, and the bed. His hips stutter as he cums unexpectedly, he rides out both of your highs, his cock not softening at all.  

Natasha motions for him to pull, when he does, she immediately gets between your legs and eats you out, moaning at the taste of your slick and Bucky’s cum. He groans and starts to fuck her. 

This goes on for hours, both of them pull orgasms out of you. By the end of it, you lay cuddle between them, exhausted. They say that they want you to be a part of their relationship, you agree, feeling like you’re dreaming. The two people you’ve had the biggest crush on actually wanted you to be with them, you couldn’t have been happier. 

When Tony finds out he whacks both Natasha and Bucky in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. He also now carries a spray bottle with him for when y’all get a little too handsy.  

All in all you’re living your dream and you couldn’t be happier.

[princessbrunette]

bsf!!jj and john b were always getting into the weirdest debates. last week, it was about whether or not animals could think in english, a couple of days ago was about whether that one dress was blue and black or not — this week, it was about boobs.

“squishiness depends from boob to boob. what hard part are you even talking about, jj?” john b argues from his side of the couch, tossing a ball in the air and catching it.

“the muscle, dude— okay i’ve touched enough titties in my life to consider myself knowledgeable on this subject. its squishy but hard.” jj defends, and you try to hide the way your face falls at the mention of him touching other girls. you were an incredibly jealous best friend, unusually so as some might think. you just didn’t like when jj existed around other girls, that didn’t seem like a big deal to you.

“but hard how?” john b chuckles. “do you mean like… fake boobs? because apparently those are rock hard.” jb discusses boyishly making you roll your eyes.

“nah, man. dude you know i’m dyslexic i can’t describe these kinda things, okay. it’s hard.” jj yanks his hat off trying to think.

“whats being dyslexic got to do with—”

before john b gets to drag things onto a new topic, you grab jj’s hand— not thinking much of it as you pull it to rest on your tit. he blinks at you, and john b too falls silent as you stare at the blonde.

“to help you describe?” you state innocently, batting your lashes at your best friend. he licks his lips without thinking, nodding and tentatively squeezing your boob. john b stays silent, more amused than anything.

“so uh,” he clears his throat. “as previously described i’d say it’s firmer towards its peak, but definitely holds that beloved squishiness that overrides the strength of the muscle. kinda like if you squeezed a jellyfish.” he continues to squishing your tit, second nature causing him to roll a thumb over where your nipple was through your tank making you wince. “sorry ‘bout that. habit.” his eyes flicker up to yours for a moment.

“look at you, mr vocabulary.” john b drawls, failing to hide his smirk as he spins the ball he was throwing previously on his finger.

“yeah well, that’s all thanks to my live subject.” jj nods, and there’s a silence as he continues feeling you up. you raise your head from where you watch him, blinking at him as he continues. he realises the moments passed, and he quickly pulls his hand away.

“oh, my bad.”

“was about to ask if you two needed a room or something.” john b shrugs, and you sense the tiniest inkling of jealousy in his tone.

“look okay you can’t give me a titty and expect me not to play with it. thats like — dude that’s like giving a dog a bone and expecting him not to chew on it. damn.” he rambles as he runs a hand through his hair. you giggle and he turns to you, pink in the face. “thanks for uh— yeah.”

“anytime, jj.”

“any time?” he raises his eyebrows.

“dude.” john b shakes his head.

“right, my bad.”

[sharksnshakes]

Night Out - Tim Drake

image source: batboyblog on tumblr

When out at a dive bar with your friends, you step outside for a breath of fresh air and run into the Red Robin. For some reason, he seems... familiar?

AN; writers block is brutal and disgusting and horrible. also. i am suffering from batfamily brainrot so expect more of this (part two can be found here!)

Wordcount; 787

TW; some cursing, mentions of drinking

It's a damp spring night when you meet the Red Robin. You're out with your friends at some college dive bar on the East Side. The area's a far cry from Gotham U's campus, but with free entry and cheap drinks, it's worth the elevated risk of mugging.

"Besides," one of your friends had declared on the way to the bar, "It just means we're more likely to see Nightwing's hot ass."

You're pretty sure the dark-haired vigilante operates exclusively in Bludhaven these days, but you're not a party pooper.

The music was good, the crowd was fun, but a small room of drunk co-eds had a way of heating up quicker than Firefly's flamethrower, and so you'd retreated out the side door for a breath of fresh air. You weren't stupid; you'd taken your small can of mace with you. This was Gotham, after all.

The alleyway was blissfully empty, save for a dumpster--quite the relief, seeing as the last time you'd been here, you'd stumbled upon a couple deep in the throes of a heated make out session. Taking a breath, you leaned up against the cool bricks in the alleyway and let yourself decompress.

"There's definitely better places to hang out around here than dark alleys," a voice says from somewhere behind you.

Living in the city has taught you many things. Most importantly, how to turn off potential predators by acting downright crazier than they do.

You spin on your heel and hold the mace like it's a pistol, coming face-to-face with none other than--

"Holy shit, you're Robin," you gasp, eyes widening.

Thank god you didn't actually mace him.

"That I am," he says, warily eyeing the can in your hand.

"Like... the Red Robin," you continue. You're blinking at him, openly gaping, and it occurs to you that you should probably stop pointing the can at his eyes. You stow the makeshift weapon in your back pocket. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were a mugger or something!"

"Hey, it's fine," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it's any consolation, you definitely would've scared the shit out of a mugger."

You laugh, but it's mostly in disbelief. Red Robin is standing mere feet away from you, domino mask and yellow cloak and green pants and all, and you're suddenly very thankful you'd gotten dressed up to go out tonight. For a split second, you swear you see him give you a quick once over. But no, there's no way Robin's checking you out.

He glances around the alleyway for a moment, almost awkwardly, before speaking again. "...Any reason you're out here?"

"I'm out with my friends," you say, motioning to the building behind you, where the bar's logo is printed in peeling white vinyl. "Needed some air. Somehow, smoke and asthma don't make a good combination," you joke.

"Can't imagine why," he grins, and holy shit Red Robin thinks you're funny.

"You got any fun, exciting plans tonight?"

He hesitates.

"Wait, you don't have to answer. I know, top secret Batman stuff--"

"Nah, not that secret." It's dark in the alleyway so maybe you're not seeing things right, but you swear you can see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Just patrolling. Y'know. Keeping an eye out for muggers and mace-wielding asthmatics."

You laugh. "Sounds boring."

"Definitely could use a drink." He glances at the side door with an unreadable expression.

"Rough start to the night?"

"You could say that."

A brief silence stretches between the two of you. Traffic and the faint pounding of the bar's music fill the space, and for some reason, despite never having met Robin and likely never meeting him again, it feels... almost familiar.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one stuck at work tonight. One of my best friends, Tim, had to bail last minute since he's got an exam to study for. So, like, you're not suffering alone!" you add, thinking back to the guy you've kind of been maybe having romantic feelings for lately.

Robin chokes.

"Shit, you okay? Need me to, like, slap you on the back or something?"

"Nope," he says, voice raspy.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." He gives you an awkward thumbs-up.

"I should probably let you get back to work, then," you sigh, turning back to the side door and grasping the handle. "And I should get back in there. Don't need my friends worried about me."

When you turn back around, it's just you and the dumpster.

"Fuckin' impressive," you mutter to nobody but yourself. "See ya, Robin."

You step back inside. The door closes behind you and... fuck.

You forgot to ask for a picture.

[kalims]

you say I love you as a goodbye accidentally | all

premise.

"okay," you smile at no one in particular, though you've got a feeling the other person on the line can feel your smile. "thanks. I love you, bye," without a single thought behind your head you hang up and emit a dreamy sigh.

wait.

your smile drops as your face shifts into panic.

completely spaces out, lowkey having a crisis. did you mean it or no? part of him wishes you were because his heart is just gonna start combusting either way. everyone is concerned why he's been staring into thin air for the past two minutes tightly gripping his phone like it's his life support. he looks like he's in a dilemma and two seconds away from suffocation because of how long his breath seems to have been caught away.

can't stop thinking about it and seems more silent when in person with you. *ascends to heaven*

riddle, deuce, azul, jamil, silver.

ㅤ

is very.. verbal about it. is either bragging to everyone who really does not want to listen to his constant nagging or proclaiming, as in busting everyone's eardrums off with his shrill screams of excitement. if he could he would practically be characterized by someone jumping around the room in a fit of joy and adrenaline. he just has to do something to tame the literal mile his heart is running.

is way more affectionate with you than normal which you don't know if you should be concerned with or happy.

cater, floyd, kalim, epel, rook (sometimes.)

ㅤ

on the more calming side. but can't help but crack a smile at your words, partially aware that it was out of habit but it didn't exactly stop the myriad of crisis you just sent his mind to. though he looks completely fine on the outside he's just teensy, tiny bit freaking out on the inside. don't worry, all you need to know that he is very pleased about it.

starts to tell you 'I love you too' by the end of your calls, making everyone assume you're dating but it's more like a married couple than a normal.

trey, jade, vil, lilia.

ㅤ

is just a big fat tsudere that can't seem to look you in the eye properly when you both meet in real life. you have no idea what he's thinking but what you do know is the words you accidentally blurted last night so.. basically two idiots who are thinking the same thing but refuse to talk due to the embarrassment. would talk about it if the other initiates first though..

wants to talk about it but also doesn't wanna talk about it?

deuce, epel, sebek, jack, idia.

ㅤ

NEVER LETS YOU FORGET ABOUT IT. having dinner? oh would you look at that, that's before you told him the words. raining? it was raining during that time too. do you just want to rest? too bad, because his face is twisting to that smug look and you know full well what's coming out of his mouth next. he's always teasing you about it.

thinks what you said was a joke but doesn't really mind if it is. an 'I love yous' an I love you and he will keep reminding you that :) playfully but uses it against you :'( *descends to hell*

ace, leona, ruggie, lilia.

ㅤ

immediately brightens up and flashes everyone with his sunshine because he's so happy. his familiar love for you just grows a thousand times bigger than before and he finds himself doing what you ask without any complaints. he just wants to help you <3 cause he just kinda considers you as a family figure now..

leaves idia in the dust lowkey haha.. he still loves him tho

ortho (platonic)

ㅤ

grins and looks immensely pleased. his giggles are a little ominous but even you can discern the clear happiness in them. it was so subtle that you didn't even notice him straying closer than usual.

can't seem to leave you alone now.

rook, jade, floyd.

ㅤ

uhm.. hello? child of man? lilia told him that this.. electronic box would make him hear your voice even through the portal of diasomnia but he can't seem to hear anything, nor see anything but a black screen. strange. is it broken? (yes malleus, you broke it because you were too excited to talk to the prefect.)

did not know but probably would have died if he ever heard it and immediately propose to you and stage a ceremony.

malleus.

note. why did I forget about some characters until the last moment lolll. I am out of ideas fr HAHA. perhaps this is the end of the posting streak?

not proofread

kofi

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jamil Viper - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Main Street]

Jamil: Hmm, the width of this street is much narrower than I thought… If it were to turn the corner here…

Ortho: Jamil Viper-san! What are you doing here of all places? The afternoon classes will begin soon.

Jamil: Ortho… Maybe you could hear me out.

Ortho: Th-That's a pretty serious look you got going on… Sure. If you're alright with it, I can listen to what you have to say…

Jamil: So, tomorrow is my birthday…

Ortho: Huh, your birthday!? Happy Birthday!

Jamil: Thanks. I'm happy to celebrate it, but because of it, I'm in a bit of a conundrum.

Jamil: Well... It seems that Kalim has been plotting something for my birthday.

Ortho: Eh, plotting something? Is he planning something ominous…!?

Jamil: So, after coaxing hints out of him, and gathering more info from other folks around me, I finally was able to piece together his plan.

Jamil: Apparently, he's been planning alongside my dormmates on throwing a birthday parade in my honor down main street.

Ortho: Oh, nice, that sounds fun. Isn't it a good thing that he wants to throw a parade?

Jamil: Seriously… Do you even get how expensive parades can be, not to mention the difficulties of pulling one of successfully?

Jamil: I was so worried about it, I stole a glance at their plans, and just as I expected, it's not well thought out at all.

Jamil: If, somehow, it was to be a disaster and he says, "let's try again tomorrow!" it could further inflate the costs and labor.

Jamil: Plus, I'm not supposed to know about it, so I can't stop it. If I try to run interference, they might try something else which would also be just as bad…!

Jamil: That's why I thought about what could be done to successfully pull this off quick and painlessly, while minimizing any damage Kalim and the others could do...

Jamil: Which is why I am now secretly examining the proposed parade route prior to the event.

Ortho: Eh. So, you're telling me that you're basically doing the prep work for your own parade…?

Jamil: Don't remind me… I'm feeling pretty embarrassed by it already…

Ortho: B-But hey, you're still excited for your birthday, right? Especially since it's your special day!

Jamil: ….Yeah, I guess it's okay. It's a day where I don't have to stress about so many things.

Ortho: Oh, hey, so, what about if you try to surprise everyone else during the parade instead?

Ortho: Maybe you could shoot off fireworks at the front of the parade, or try summoning something via magic!

Jamil: I see… I mean, it is pretty irritating to always be on the receiving end of surprises. Might not be bad to see their shocked faces.

Jamil: Thanks, Ortho. I'll think about it.

[Scarabia Dorm – Lounge]

Jamil: Alright, now. I think I'll put together my lunch for tomorrow before taking a shower… Hm? Oh, what are you guys still here for?

[Scarabia mob students stand there awkwardly]

Jamil: Eh, nothing? Don't worry about it? What's that plate you just tried to hi… No, nevermind.

Jamil: I know nothing. That's right, I know nothing… So, please… Please let things go as planned…!

Jamil: …Whew. Tomorrow's a busy day, so I guess I'll finish up what needs to be done, too.

[Scarabia Dorm – Jamil's Room]

Jamil: Ah, whew. Today was another full day…

[Scarabia Dorm – Jamil's Room]

[Jamil's roommate greets him]

Jamil: I'm back. …Yeah, that's right. There were so many people in the washroom that it took forever to take a shower.

Jamil: You were done pretty quickly, though… Oh, are you actually studying for once?

Jamil: What, because you're going to be busy tomorrow? Oh, so you're saying you're not studying because you want to… Nah, don't mind me, doesn't matter the reason, better you go ahead and do it.

[paper slips to the ground]

Jamil: Hey, you dropped something… Oh, right, the Headmaster did send out a notice earlier.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Jamil: Quality of life improvements, huh. Then they should start with making the shower rooms bigge… Achoo!

Jamil: That's no good. I should dry my hair quickly before I catch a cold.

Jamil: Oh, I almost forgot, I received some hair milk from Najma for my birthday. I should apply some before drying.

Jamil: Urgh, the scent's pretty strong. What is this scent…? Lotus flowers? Oh, she should know this is way too fragrant for me!

Jamil: Is she just trying to mess with me even for my birthday? No, wait, she's more the type to have not put that much thought into it.

Jamil: I'll make sure to at least thank her… Before going back to my usual oils from tomorrow... Hey, I'm going to use the dryer.

Jamil: I can't really take my time drying my hair in the shared washroom. Especially since I require a lot more time…

[starts blow-drying hair]

Jamil: …Improvements, huh. Now that I think about it, I guess it could be useful to have a large standing mirror in the room.

Jamil: Whenever I'm setting my hair in the morning, it's pretty inconvenient that I can't see the back of my head. What I'd really like is a three-sided mirror.

Jamil: If I had known there wouldn't be one in these rooms, I probably would have brought one. Or maybe, I should write and request one.

Jamil: …Nah, it'll just get in my roommate's way. And I wouldn't want it to be used without permission… I dislike having to share my personal items.

Jamil: If I were to try and request some kind of new implement for the room, I think it'd have to be…

Jamil: A COMMERCIAL-GRADE REFRIGERATOR!!!

Jamil: That's exactly what I need! Ah, yes… It would be insanely convenient to have a refrigerator in my room!

Jamil: Sure, there is a fridge in the dorm kitchens, but it is a little too far from my room. Like, the last time I made ice cream…

Jamil: I'd have to wake up in the middle of the night and make countless trips back and forth to the kitchen to stir it. That was frustrating, especially since I was sleepy, and it's a good distance away.

Jamil: It'd be better if I had one in my room. And then I might as well also get a wide sink, stove and oven too…

Jamil: …Wait, that's basically a whole kitchen, huh? I guess it's not really something you'd put in a bedroom.

[finishes blow-drying hair]

Jamil: Alright, it's mostly dry now. I'll just apply some oil, and… done.

Jamil: Hey. Sorry for all the noise again today… WAIT, HUH, HE'S ALREADY ASLEEP EVEN THROUGH THE LOUD HAIR DRYER NOISE!?

Jamil: Geez, he doesn't have a care in the world, huh. I almost feel kind of jealous.

Jamil: Alright, then. Time to look over my notes and prepare for tomorrow, then go to sleep.

[Scarabia Dorm – Jamil's Room]

[alarm rings]

Jamil: Hrn… It's morning already… Yaaawn.

Jamil: I'm still sleepy… But there shouldn't be a crowd in the bathroom this early… I should go wash my face while it's empty…

Jamil: Whew. I feel more refreshed now that I've washed my face… I really do like it in the mornings, since no one else is around.

Jamil: Looks like my roommate is still sleeping, so I'll just go ahead and quickly finish up my appearance for today.

Jamil: I guess I'll start with my makeup. Hm… Yeah, I think I'll just go with my usual palette.

Jamil: First, my sunscreen and colored lip balm. And I'll need eyeliner… Ah, looks like it's almost gone.

Jamil: I still have some spares, but I'll have to make sure to buy some extra.

Jamil: It was a little frustrating when the last eyeliner I would always use took off on Magicam and became hard to find.

Jamil: It's annoying when you can't even keep using the cosmetics you like because they go out of stock.

Jamil: I'd rather they keep a consistent stock of their standard products, instead of trying to come out with new colors each season.

Jamil: I'll have to look for some other brands next time, something that's water proof, and won't come off even if I sweat from running or cooking.

Jamil: …Alright, I'm done. Next, I just need to set my hair.

Jamil: First, I'll take my hair oil and rub it into the ends of my hair to moisturize it… Good. Just from first glance, it doesn't look like there's any damaged strands.

Jamil: It's nice that ever since I've grown out my hair, I don't wake up to bed head, but… I never expected to have to spend this much time taking care of it.

Jamil: Letting it grow out may be easy to do, but it wouldn't do to let it go wild. Grooming it well should be the bare minimum of etiquette.

Jamil: Especially since I don't want to be seen as unsightly…. I'll just finish the braids with magic… And, done.

Jamil: …I've set it as perfectly as I normally do, but since today's my birthday, maybe I should try to spruce myself up just a little more than usual?

Jamil: Today should be a pretty long day, so I think I'll use a stronger eyeliner… Might not be bad to add a splash of color, too.

Jamil: Not only do I have the dorm party, but my clubmates have also reached out, and I promised to get together with my classmates, as well.

Jamil: …Ah, well. Looks like today is going to be one busy day. Heheh.

[Main Street]

[birthday celebration cheers]

Ortho: Ah, I spy Jamil Viper-san! Looks like he's having fun celebrating with everyone.

Ortho: Heheh… He was griping a lot yesterday, but he definitely seems like he's enjoying himself. He looks so happy!

Ortho: Hey, Jamil Viper-san! I'm here to celebrate, too. Happy Birthday!

Jamil: Hey, Ortho! You came all this way to join the celebration, too? Thanks, everyone.

Requested by @farfalla049.