#agent butter fingers

[sakkaro1959]

Rocket Around the Christmas Tree

Happy Holidays From TRAZ! Team Rocket cosplay group from Arizona ~ I am looking forward to our next anime conventions.

Wishing you all happy holidays and hope it goes well! Hail Giovanni!

[januaryembrs]

Hi! May I have a hot chocolate with Aaron Hotchner and a splash of angst please?

OVERPROTECTIVE | Aaron Hotchner x Reader

description: keeping your relationship with your boss is difficult when he gets so damn overprotective

length: 2.5k (Em doesn't know how to go small on things)

warnings: mention of a knife? mention of feeling sick? mention of a wound?

“Sit down, Agent,” His voice was a growl that made you stop loading up your gun, Emily and Derek freezing in their seats to witness the catfight when they caught the heated glare exchanged between the two of you. Your fingers paused on the cartridge, clicking it into the ammunition vault before switching your glock onto the safety, turning to face your boyfriend with a sneer on your face. 

“Agent?” You tested the water with a raised brow, seeing if he would double down with his attitude once he seemed to have realised he had crossed some sort of line with his words. 

“Prentiss and Morgan are going after the suspect, I want you here with Reid mapping out the geographical profile,” He ordered his teams, though you were quick to catch how he couldn’t meet your eyes as he turned to Dave, his fingers fixing his cuffs the way he did when he was thinking about something, “Dave, I want you with JJ at hostage negotiation, he still has the girls and might not be willing to give them up so easily-”

“Surely we’d be more use in the field, I mean, we’ve gotten pretty much everything out of the profile that we can.” Reid tried to point out, only for Hotch to turn to him with a scathing frown. 

“Is there something wrong with the orders I’ve given, Reid?” Aaron asked, his tone particularly cold, and Spencer was quick to look flustered, ever the teachers pet who loathed being told off. 

“N-no I just thought,” He spluttered, quickly packing up his files as Hotch gave him a sharp look, “We’ll stay here, it’s fine,” 

Your Unit Chief barely acknowledged him as he huffed, turning and heading for his office, “Wheels up in ten,” 

But you weren’t going to let him slip away that easily, especially not with an attitude like that. 

“Baby girl, think about what you’re doing here,” Morgan tried to call as you paced after him, your expression ruthless as you stalked behind the man, “Starting a fight with the boss is not going to win you any favours, sweetheart,” 

Except he wasn’t just your boss, only they didn’t know that. 

Aaron could tell you were hot on his heels even without hearing Morgan’s desperate attempt to help. To them, it must look like one of their colleagues was about to make a huge misjudgement on just how harsh their boss could be when he wanted to. Every single one of the BAU had gone head to head with Aaron at some point, it was only natural for eight people who spent day in, day out with one another, but not one of them had left the interaction feeling good about themselves. 

As a boyfriend, Aaron was almost a complete antithesis of who he was at work. His words were butter smooth, his touch gentle as lace, his heart surprisingly tender for a man who had seen the worst humanity had to offer. And he respected you, he was kind, he was soft and mallowed out, and it had started bleeding into his demeanour at work in the five months you’d been dating. He’d come to work with a skip in his step, you showing up around five minutes later now you guys had coordinated sitting in his car for a little longer to avoid suspicion. Aaron seemed to find your eyes in moments of worry, and it usually only took a small smile or a passing touch of your hands that could easily be explained as an accident to calm him down. 

But he had changed last week, when an UnSub had managed to catch your shoulder with a knife.

It was a surface scratch, nothing a few stitches and a dose of painkillers hadn’t cleared up, and you could already feel the scab peeling off, but since then Aaron had been stiflingly overbearing at work. 

You shut the door behind you, already seeing the way he rubbed at his temple with calloused hands, and you knew the sigh was coming even before you heard it, low and tired, like he didn’t want this argument here. 

“What the hell was that?” You said, your tone clipped as you stared furiously at his broad shoulder blades where he still had his back to you, “Spencer did nothing wrong, he was just trying to help, and he’s totally right, we’d be so much more use with Morgan and Prentiss-”

“If you have an issue with how I run my unit, you can take it up with Strauss,” Aaron snapped, barely looking over his shoulder, “Until then, I expect my orders to be followed, agent,”  

You crossed your arms over your chest, and he knew by the way you’d gone quiet you were staring daggers at him. Taking a shaking breath, he looked at you finally, and felt his resolve crumble almost immediately when he saw how truly seething you were. So much so he didn’t even catch the hurt in your expression until you began speaking. 

“Is it just ‘agent’, now?” You asked, your voice cracking as you swallowed quickly, “It’s not honey, or love, or sweetheart? Or is that only when you want the girlfriend version of me.”

Aaron stopped, whatever witted and crass remark that had about to fly out of his mouth vanishing, and he wished the rest of the team would just clear out of the floor, because he wanted nothing more than to pull you in for a tight hug and tell you in every way he thought possible that he was sorry he was being so cruel. 

But he couldn’t. Because he could feel their eyes on the two of you from here. Here he had to be SSA Aaron Hotchner. Here he couldn’t protect you when creeps were coming at you with knives or stalking women who could easily be your twin. Here he had to stop himself from being so pliant under your touch. 

“You know why I can’t,” He said coldly, his eyes begging and weak, yet they were the only thing that gave him away. His jaw was tense and his brows furrowed, and to anyone else on the floor it looked like he was giving you a stern talking to. 

Except you just scowled, “Can’t be my boyfriend or can’t stop worrying that something is going to happen to me in the field?” You said, and his lips pressed together tightly, because sometimes he hated not being the only one in the relationship that was a profiler. Of course you knew what it was about, you’d seen it in his face when the two of you were being intimate and he caught sight of the bandage, how he’d been completely distracted and tense for the rest of the evening, “That’s what this is about, right? All of this for a tiny cut on my shoulder that’s going to be gone within a week?” 

“Two inches to the right and that guy could slashed your throat,” He snapped, the truth a sore spot for him, and you shook your head, throwing your hands up in despair. 

“How many hits have you taken, Aaron, huh?” You bit back, and he ground his teeth for lack of response, “It’s an occupational hazard, it’s not a big deal, I mean Reid and Penelope have taken bullets for us, I just think you’re being a little overprotective here,”

“I can’t lose you, can you not see that?” He snarled back, his voice rising so high with his frustration he felt his cheeks warm, and in a split second he looked like a wounded animal stuck in a bear trap, cornered and scared and waiting on the inevitable. 

Your mouth dropped in guilt, the fight dying out of your chest because you got it then, you got it why he was being so defensive. He was too slow to stop something from happening to Hayley, and here, right in front of him, was his sparkly new girlfriend risking her life like that wouldn’t be anyone’s worst nightmare. 

You felt terrible, and judging by the way he seemed to bite the inside of his cheek, he did too. Perhaps for shouting at you, perhaps just for being too intense for a relatively new relationship, but before you could attempt to come to an understanding, Spencer opened the door, his eyes shooting between the two of you as the silence became a medium for your tension.

“Rossi wants to know if you guys are ready to head out?” He asked sheepishly, waiting for another snarl of anger from his boss, only to see Hotch looking more like he had a sour gummy shoved in his mouth as he avoided all eye contact. 

“We’re staying to do the profile, Spence,” You said solemnly, and he seemed to not want to poke at a sleeping bear, nodding and leading the two of you out to the drawing board, flicking one last look at Aaron where he was sorting some files around his desk, most likely looking for something to keep his shaking hands busy. 

Sighing, you closed the door behind you and tried to ignore the pain in your shoulder. 

–

He thinks you’ve probably caught the subway home with Spencer by the time they get back. The sixth floor is quiet, his bag heavy with the reports he could easily leave for Monday morning, except he wants to take his mind off the fight the two of you had. He cuts through the middle of the desks, Emily’s coffee cold and stale, Spencer’s cardigan stranded on his chair. He thinks about how he could show the youngest agent he’s sorry, because he shouldn’t have snapped like that, shouldn’t have made him feel small just because you were so totally in the right to be looking at him like that. 

He was immediately confronted with your coat and bag when he opened the door to his office, the two of them leaning against his filing cabinet like they were waiting for him, and he thought it was strange until he saw the culprit, or more so saw your shoes placed neatly under the sofa, your socked feet peeking over the end of the cushions. 

His gaze trailed to your face, calm and smoothed out, like he hadn’t seen the way a frown marred your face that moment he’d left the office as you’d been consulting the giant map he’d pinned up in the round table room. You were fast asleep, one hand tucked beneath your head as a pillow, your knees squishing out to accommodate your body on the two-seater.

Aaron drew a deep breath, gently sliding his bag off his shoulder and letting it sit on the floor beside your shoes, his hand immediately reaching for your calf with a gossamer soft embrace, his fingers squeezing you lightly and dancing up the length of your leg up to your hip. His other hand found home on your head, caressing the roots of your hair as he murmured your name. 

He said it again, a little louder, when you didn’t stir, and it was only then that your eyes fluttered behind your lids. Blinking slowly in the low light of his office, his desk lamp the only source of beige glow, you smiled on instinct when you saw his brown, puppy-dog stare, kicked and hurt as he looked down at you. 

Which was when it came back to you in a shooting pain, the last time you’d spoken, the tone and formality, as if he didn’t know you at all outside of these four walls. 

“You waiting for me?” He asked, his hand continuing its rhythm over your crown, and you nodded under his attentive gaze. 

“I didn’t want to go home alone, I wanted to make sure we were okay, and I knew you’d come here,” You said, and he smiled with an exhausted expression like he had the weight of the world bearing down on his back.

“Of course we’re okay, honey,” He replied, his hand migrating from your waist to grab your knuckles, bringing them to his dry lips to kiss softly. He sighed softly, looking down to where your fingers meshed together, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Or Reid. But especially not you,”

You let go of his rough fingers to bring a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently so he would look at you with those mournful noir hues. 

“Aaron, I’m gonna get bruised sometimes. This probably won’t be the last time, and it probably won’t be the worst one either,” He grit his teeth like the thought of it being even deeper, in an even more lethal spot, made him physically ill, “But I need you to trust in me, trust that I’m going to do everything to come home to you at the end of the day, the same way you do everything to come back to me. Alright?” 

Aaron sighed, leaning in to press his forehead to yours as you nudged your nose against his. 

“You make it so difficult for me to think straight when I’m meant to be your boss, you know that?” He murmured, and there was something boyishly teasing in his tone as he did so, so much so you smiled with him. Leaning in, you kissed him softly on the mouth, your hand moving to the back of his head to pull him closer 

“You will apologise, won’t you? For hurting Spencer’s feelings,” You implored, breaking away from the embrace for a moment, until Aaron tried to dodge your question by kissing over your jaw. But you stood your ground, despite the fact you felt your eyes fluttering in pleasure, “Aaron, he’s sensitive,” 

“First thing Monday morning, I promise,” He said, though you half guessed it was just to please you, since he was already aiming for your neck, his hand grazing the hem of your shirt. 

“So, I know we’re in work, but I take it this is boyfriend Aaron I have now,” He hummed in confirmation, your skin pliant and warm under his lips, and he caught the splutter in your breath when he kissed your jugular the way you liked, “Okay well seeing as you’re boyfriend Aaron, I got to tell you, honey, my boss was being a total worms-for-brains today,” 

Aaron stopped, drawing away to look you in the face where you hid a snicker, and he quickly found the humour in it too as his fingers gripped around your stomach, “Oh, so it’s like that is it?”

You went to say something in rebuttal, only to feel his hands quickly start tickling your stomach, and you squealed in protest, grabbing at his wrists in an attempt to stop him. But it was no use. Aaron’s laughs, tired and groaning as they were, filled his office, and yours quickly symphonied them.

You didn’t even get a chance to tell him that Spencer definitely, definitely knew you two were dating.  

[bippot]

A Real Headscratcher

Story Summary -> The two BAU younglings clearly feel something other than friendship towards each other. Despite how much Morgan and the rest of the team tease them, the dynamic duo progress at their own adorable speed.

Tags -> Idiots in Love, Crushes, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Drinking, Awkward Flirting, Touch-Starved, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

Over the years, Spencer had grown more accustomed to people touching him. He still didn't like it. Still, he would prefer if he was left untouched. But if someone held their hand out for a handshake, he no longer declined the offer. He did rigorously wash and sanitise his hands after every encounter with a new person, though.

The rest of the team had begun to notice this new, more relaxed Reid. Coincidentally, this change had occurred a few weeks after a certain Agent Y/N had joined the BAU — the young woman, whom Derek had affectionately begun calling her 'Peanut' since she had dethroned Reid as the youngest of the squad and had brought a peanut butter sandwich for lunch on her first day.

Together, the two youngsters had become fast friends. The new arrival quickly took a liking to Spencer's quirky personality and was the only person who allowed him to ramble on and on for as long as he wanted, about whatever he wanted, without interrupting or changing any of his train of thought. Whereas Spencer was particularly fond of the way Y/N always gave him a helping hand socially whenever he needed it. He knew he wasn't the easiest to interact with sometimes, but with Y/N's advice and guidance, he was getting better.

After a particularly disgusting case, the team were on the jet and on their way back to Virginia, and they were all ready for a long weekend. The 'dynamic duo', as they'd become known, sat next to each other, both quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts. "Hey, look at Pretty Boy over there," Morgan whispered to Prentiss, nudging the arms she was holding her drink in and causing it to splash down her shirt. He snorted but was quick to apologise, "Sorry, we can have a wet t-shirt contest later if you want payback."

Emily brushed her hand down the wet patch as she glanced in the direction of the duo to find Reid pretending to read. His book was firmly in his hands, yes, yet his eyes flitted between the page and the woman beside him, who was busy watching the clouds outside the window. Spencer's eyes were practically hearts behind his glasses as he watched her, his mouth slightly open and his tongue poking between his lips, and he looked utterly fascinated, completely enamoured. 

"Oh, that's adorable," she smirked, looking sideways and catching Morgan's eye with a knowing smirk.

Y/N finally took her focus off the window, realising she was being stared at by the younger brunette. "What?" she questioned curiously, giving Spencer what she hoped was a questioning smile. Reid suddenly realised how creepy he must appear, staring at her like that, so he tried to pretend that he wasn't doing anything weird but couldn't help smiling an incredibly goofy smile in return.

"You look tired, Y/N."

"That's no way to talk to a lady, Reid," Morgan interrupted, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile playing on his lips. "You still look beautiful, Peanut."

Spencer dipped his head to hide the frown that appeared due to Morgan's comment, and his fingers gripped onto his book a little tighter, which was obviously noticed by the profilers opposite. Even Hotch let out a quiet huff of something that sounded like laughter from where he was sitting, having turned around to see the display. "I didn't mean it like... I, uh, I just..." Spencer trailed off, trying to come up with something to say. He looked across to gauge Y/N's reaction in the hopes she'd help him out and not embarrass him further.

Instead, he found himself looking straight into her bright eyes, which had crinkled at the corners as she giggled at him. Her hand made its way to his thigh and gently squeezed in an effort to comfort the confused boy, who had seemed to turn into a blushing, flustered mess in front of her, and her smile grew impossibly bigger at his bashfulness. "I've been called worse, doctor. Don't sweat it."

With that, she went back to watching the passing scenery, while Spencer and Derek stared at each other, having a conversation with only their facial expressions. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Morgan was trying to urge Reid to do. It seemed that Reid was reluctant to go through with it. He looked across at Y/N and bit his lip nervously before shaking his head.

For the next hour or two, they all tried to get some shut eye, some more successful in their attempts than others. Prentiss was snoozing with her cheek squished against the glass. Hotch had spread himself out and had a sleep mask on, so who knows if he was truly sleeping or not? JJ had fallen asleep a couple of minutes into the plane ride; she'd called Henry, and then boom, out like a light. Rossi had brought along a neck pillow and draped it around his head, apparently content to sleep away the remainder of the flight with the occasional snore escaping his slightly opened mouth.

Derek, well, he had his eyes closed, but he had yet to drift off. He was too busy listening to the dynamic duo as they were in the throes of a passionate conversation, both of them leaning forward intently towards one another, their heads close together, and their voices hushed. 

"I don't know what to tell you, Spencer, but I know - with one hundred percent certainty - that I'd prefer to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer over Star Trek any day."

"You've got to be kidding me?" Reid said, almost shocked that she could ever consider such a thing. "Star Trek has endured for over fifty years. It transcends generations, and it's still going strong!"

"Yeah, well, have you even watched Buffy?"

"No." Spencer narrowed his eyes. "Have you ever seen Star Trek?"

"No." He opened his mouth and seemed as if he was about to continue, but gave up with a laugh and shook his head in amusement. Y/N grinned at him and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, as if she were assuring him that this argument meant nothing and it was just for fun.

"If you wanted to, and I, uh, u-understand if not, I'd be willing to endure a Buffy marathon with you. Any time." 

His voice faltered slightly, and for a moment, it was like he forgot how to breathe. It felt like his heart stopped beating momentarily. For a second, he could feel his stomach churning uncomfortably, but the sensation vanished quickly, and Y/N nodded her head in reply, unable to contain her grin at his response.

"You can try and turn me into a Trekkie if you'd like."

"Oh! Okay, yeah, I'd like to. W-we can arrange that. We can sort that out."

They soon settled down enough to fall asleep, heads resting against each other's, and failed to notice Morgan whisper, "My man," under his breath. He peeked out of one eye to catch a glimpse of the good doctor and his soon-to-be sweetheart. Prentiss was right; he thought they were adorable. And Derek had half a mind to take a picture and send it to Garcia.

After that, it was impossible not to notice how comfortable Spencer had gotten while interacting with Y/N in every way. The team was unsure whether the pair had actually gotten together yet, but they knew it was only a matter of time. The boy wonder often rambled about how they went to the library, the cinema, or had those TV watchalongs. And it seemed that the pair were so close that they'd developed their own sort of language, even if they were unaware of its existence.

"Hey Spock," Y/N greeted as she entered Morgan's hotel room, where they'd been going over the case for hours, her hands coming down on his shoulders to gently massage them. He'd positioned himself right on the edge of the bed, so Y/N took the opportunity to kneel behind him and rest her chin on his shoulder. 

In this particular case, Reid had to read through thousands of pages of a psychopath's very descriptive diary, which was filled with gruesome descriptions and diagrams of torture. The rest of the squad had gone to dinner, yet Spencer had waved them off. They knew there was only one person who had a chance at changing his mind. "Take a break?" But instead of stopping like she asked him to, he continued reading until she pulled the book out of his hands. "...Please."

"Fine," he replied with a sigh. "The unsub-"

"A total break. No work talk."

"But -" She gave him a look, one that was stern but soft at the same time, and he gave in. 

As she went to pull away, she noticed that his hair was a complete mess. "Did you brush your hair today? Or at any point this week?" she teased while she reached up to brush through his thick locks with careful fingers, untangling the knots she spotted with ease.

"We were called out pretty early this morning, Y/N," he reminded her with a playful inflection in his voice. 

He tried to say something else, but it died in his throat as her fingers worked through his hair, massaging his scalp in such a way that he was turning to mush in her hands. His body relaxed, and his head lolled back against her palm. When she finished detangling his hair, she continued to further relax him with her touch until he let out a borderline embarrassing whine. "Ah! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make that noise," he told her, sitting bolt upright in embarrassment. His ears were bright red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, as if he could somehow rub away the blush that had appeared on his face.

Frankly, Y/N was proud that she could pull a noise like that from him. There was no doubting that it would be imprinted on her brain forever since it was so cute. She grinned in triumph while she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. "No need to apologise, Spence." To show how little of an apology she needed, she resumed working her fingers through his hair again, this time more forcefully and with a little more pressure, causing Reid to once again moan softly at her pleasurable treatment. They stayed like that for a while, neither really caring that much about how fast the time was flying by.

Just as another noise fell from Reid's lips, Morgan re-entered his hotel room and stood there for a few seconds in stunned silence when his eyes landed on the embrace his two friends were sharing on his bed. "Well, well, well," he started, making them jump out of their skin. "I'd prefer it if you use your own room to canoodle, kids."

Their faces flushed as they scrambled apart from each other as though they had been caught doing something forbidden. "Uh... we weren't... we... we...uh..." Reid stuttered incoherently, completely failing to find the words to explain themselves without sounding like an absolute idiot.

"Pretty boy, I'm just teasing you," Morgan told him, holding his hands up in surrender as he walked closer to the bed, his gaze shifting between Spencer and Y/N. "Although I'm planning to get at least two hours of sleep, either you guys leave or you give me the keys to your room, your choice."

Looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, the pair made a silent agreement and shuffled out of Morgan's room quietly. As soon as they were in the hallway outside, both of them burst out laughing, both at the awkwardness of their situation and at how they were probably going to endure even more teasing.

They began to slowly walk in the direction of their rooms, both of them swinging their hands and almost knocking them into each other with every step they took. Their laughter faded away and was replaced with nervous smiles, the awkwardness still lingering in the air. It was only when they neared Y/N's door that one of them spoke up. "Are you hungry? We both skipped out on lunch earlier, so..." The brunette asked suddenly, looking down at her with hopeful eyes.

"You want to go and grab food?" 

"Maybe we could order to the hotel? I haven't eaten anything all day except for breakfast."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a genius?"

"Funny enough, they have."

Soon enough, they were huddled on Y/N's bed, surrounded by Chinese takeaway boxes, and watching cable TV as they ate, talking animatedly as they enjoyed each other's company. By the time they'd finished their meal, they hadn't managed to wipe the grins off of their faces once. And neither of them were willing to move an inch from their spot. They were too cosy, too warm, and too full from eating, so as the night turned into morning, the pair were once again side by side as they drifted off.

From that mission on, whenever Reid needed calming down, Y/N knew exactly what to do. And after getting used to it, Spencer began to ask beforehand. Not vocally, no. Whenever he wanted her to play with his hair, he'd simply and subtly tap her thigh, which was his way to silently plead for the girl to pet him. Obviously, their coworkers had witnessed many strange things over their years as profilers, but none of them expected to ever see the touch-phobic Dr. Reid urge someone to initiate physical contact with him. It was a rather shocking revelation for everyone who knew him.

It all came to a head one evening when the squad convinced Reid to join them for one of their after-work bar nights. Morgan had heavily stressed the fact that Y/N would be there and she would want to see him, and as much as the doctor didn't particularly enjoy these nights out, he was swayed by the suggestion anyway. The only problem was that Y/N had caught the attention of the recently hired bartender there, who proceeded to flirt with her nonstop. Reid, due to his lingering second thoughts about the outing, was last to arrive and, as soon as he walked through the door, was already regretting his decision.

"Doctor, you're late," JJ teased, nudging him with her shoulder and gesturing towards the bar. "It looks like Y/N's still ordering our round if you want to go and add yours onto the tab. Rossi is paying, so go wild."

"Have you ever known me 'go wild', JJ?" Reid asked dryly as he headed in the direction of the bar.

"Tonight could be your night. You never know, Spence."

That sentiment rang through Reid's head as he approached the other half of his duo. Y/N was smiling, but as he got closer, Spencer noticed a certain fakeness to it, almost as if the girl was forcing it. A bolt of something sweet went straight to that big brain of his as he realised she never looked at him like that. All of her smiles had been genuine when they'd been directed at him. And that was proved when Y/N caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and broke out into a real, goofy grin that caused him to do the same. "I was wondering if you were ever going to turn up," she greeted him cheerfully, holding her hand out for him to hold. He took it, and to his delight, she pulled him in for a hug.

She was a little wobbly and a lot more giggly than usual, so it was obvious she'd had a few drinks. Judging by the glare he was getting from the bartender, Spencer assumed she'd got those drinks for free as a way to sway her affections. There was a flush to her cheeks as she looked up at him, and his heart skipped a beat when he caught a glimmer of something in her eyes. "Do you want a drink, doctor?" she asked playfully, tilting her head to the side and giving him a coy look. "They do mocktails if you'd like something fancy."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll take a mocktail."

"I'll get them," Y/N volunteered, squeezing his hand before releasing it and waving the bartender over. The guy was quick to try flirting with her again, despite the fact that Spencer was right there and still had his arm wrapped around her. 

Did the bartender not see him as a romantic threat? How was that possible when he was literally the one who was closer to her in every sense of the word? Was it so unlikely? Reid's brain was working overtime, desperately trying to come up with a solution to this issue as he stood there, helpless, watching the bartender make a very flamboyant and fruity-looking mocktail.

"Are you wearing a new cologne, Doctor?" Y/N questioned, a hint of flirtiness in her tone. It was just enough to cause Spencer to very loudly gulp and avert his gaze. Accidentally, he looked directly at Morgan, who gave him (what Derek intended to be) an encouraging wink. Whether it was was another thing.

"Uh, y-yes," Reid managed to squeak out before mentally kicking himself for being so obvious.

"It smells nice. You smell nice."

"I do?"

"You do."

Before Reid could thank her, the bartender placed the drink right between them, and that disturbed any response he would eventually mumble out. Instead, he hurried to take a sip as an excuse to not say anything other than a hum of approval. It was delicious - he had to admit that. Maybe he should branch out from extremely sweet coffee once in a while.

Throughout the night, Reid stayed glued to his friend's side and did his best to ignore the knowing looks the other members of the squad were giving him. Y/N kept him on his toes with the amount of times she caused a blush to appear and his IQ to drop by twenty each time she made a playful comment. By the time they left the bar, he was a total mess. And although Y/N had only been a little tipsy - it seemed that she only needed a little bit of liquid confidence to act upon her feelings - he was determined to make sure she got home. Working a job that constantly forced him to see the worst of humanity, well, he had an obligation to ensure nothing bad happened. Safety first, after all. Getting more time to hang out with her was a close second, though.

The pair made it back to Y/N's apartment in no time. It was a relatively short walk, and the streets were quiet at that late hour. The night air was warm and humid, and the moon was full, giving their journey an ethereal glow. Neither of them said much. They didn't need to. There was no need to break the comfortable silence as they made their way closer to her door.

Spencer let Y/N lead them up to her apartment door. He even allowed her to hide behind him when one of her drunk neighbours stumbled into the elevator they were in because she didn’t want to interact with him. She stood behind him, her hands on his hips and her forehead resting against the back of his shoulder. It was only when the drunkard - who'd not paid attention to Spencer at all - left that Y/N came out from hiding. "Sorry, Spock. Last time, he spoke to me about buying a timeshare for a full hour, and I couldn't go through that again," she apologised sheepishly.

"I hide to avoid talking to my neighbour almost every day. It's a small price to pay for peace and quiet."

"That doesn't surprise me."

Once they were inside her apartment, Y/N immediately flopped face down on her couch. Spencer plopped down beside her feet and, without prompting, untied her laces and slipped her shoes off. He then did the same with his shoes, leaning back and getting comfortable.

"You're so sweet to me, Spock," Y/N muttered, lifting her face from the pillow she'd squished herself into to look at him. What she was greeted with was adorable. Reid had his hands intertwined behind his head, sitting criss-cross applesauce with his eyes closed. Because of how he looked and how sweet he was, Y/N got to her knees and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. His eyes snapped open, and his jaw dropped so he was gaping at her, blinking slowly.

"W-what was that for?"

"For being you."

"Oh. Okay." He tried to hide his confusion, but the look on his face was priceless. For all his intellect, he couldn't work out what the hell she meant. So, to give him a helping hand, she gently placed her hooked forefinger under his chin and tilted his head up so he'd meet her eye.

"For making me happy," she whispered, pressing her lips to his in such a way that Reid was so startled by her display of affection that he forgot to respond for a moment until his hands came up to either side of her face and deepened the kiss.

That was all it took to send him plummeting into the depths of lust-induced oblivion. Spencer was acting purely on impulse as he pushed Y/N down on the couch and pressed his body into hers, trapping her underneath him with his knee between her legs. Breaking apart, he let out a breath and leaned his forehead against hers. "Morgan is going to be so smug," Reid joked. "When he finds out I kissed you."

"You kissed me?" Y/N repeated jovially, winding her arms around his neck. "Is your memory different from mine, Mr. Eidetic?"

"I'll just tell him about our second kiss."

Before she registered how smooth that had been, Spencer's lips were back on hers. He was eager and hungry and intent on making her dizzy. He held nothing back, and neither did she. Their lips collided in a storm of moans and groans, tongues tangling and fingers clutching at each other. Reid moved away for a moment to take off his tie and undo the first few buttons of his shirt. "It's getting a little warm in here," he muttered, finally realising his skin was on fire thanks to her touch.

With this new stretch of skin uncovered, Y/N couldn't help herself and attached her lips to his newly uncovered collarbone, kissing up his neck to his ear and biting down gently on the lobe. He made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and he let his head fall back so he was looking at the ceiling. Her fingers toyed with the remaining buttons of his shirt, teasing them open to get access to the skin underneath. Reid kept his eyes closed as she continued her exploration, enthralled by the attention she lavished upon him. Eventually, she was able to slide the fully opened shirt off his shoulders and run her palms down his sides until she reached his belt. 

"Spence? Do you want to continue?" Y/N asked, her voice breathless yet understanding. He beamed at her with eyes as wide as a bush baby. Reid could barely form a coherent thought but clearly still held some grasp of his gentlemanly nature. 

"Let me take you on a date first. Please? There's a few showings of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari at the Palace this month. I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you for seven months, eighteen days and -" He checked his watch. "Ten hours and thirty-three days."

"You're adorable, Doctor Reid." She nudged the tip of her nose against his and let her hand trail up to rest in his head, her thumb drawing soothing lines against his pink cheek. "I'd love to."

Their glee was evident. It was palpable. Spencer placed his hand on her thigh, just as he'd become so accustomed to over the months, and expected her usual response. Yet, when Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair and lightly tugged his chin up, her eyes focused on his lips, he wasn't disappointed with the change of routine. Quite the opposite.

"Do I have to wait until our date to kiss you again, or am I allowed to do it now?" She coquetted, raising and wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner. 

His response was instant. "Now!" He cleared his throat, afraid that he'd been too eager. "I mean, now if you want. Yeah, uh...now." She peppered his cheeks with sloppy, wet kisses until he was breathless and desperate for a proper smooch. It didn't take long before he was guiding her into position to get what he wanted. 

It was safe to assume that their very intelligent, very observant colleagues were going to be difficult to hide from. Especially when, in all the excitement, Spencer left a hickey on Y/N's collarbone. One that was just a few centimetres too big to be hidden by her work shirt.

*Click here for my masterlist*

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[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

PROLOGUE

“You just made the worst mistake And you’ll regret it, darling…”

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: walking home from a late night at the office seemed like a good idea in the moment.

word count: 1132

warnings: fluff in the beginning, implied photos of murder (in the files!), murder, and ofc, "main character death".

a/n: HAR HAR HAR here we are again *i say as i rub my hands together villainously* i'm so excited to get this series started!! i tried to get as much fluff in as I could before things started to suck, and trust me, they're going to!!! *i laugh evilly again*

masterlist | series masterlist | AO3

It was nights like these when you enjoyed the paperwork the most.

Sure, it’s a bit morbid, seeing as most of them are murder cases, but the night was lit up with stars, and the cool autumn breeze was just starting to nip at your fingertips.

The office was quiet besides the few just like yourself that decided to stay late to finish up some files, and it wasn’t like Aaron rushed you guys on the speed in which you got things done, so that made it all the more motivating to start.

Your head was buried in the sand, completely oblivious to the work around you as the words on the pages seemed to blur together as you tore through them with an alarming speed.

Admittedly, today was slow, the only entertaining thing that happened was the fact that Derek and Emily had a severe case of butter fingers; with Emily's cup slipping off her desk to Derek's coffee falling in his lap.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lip at the memory, the monotonous writing that you’ve subjected yourself to pausing.

And it seems as though someone had been waiting for you to stop, because Spencer slides into your point of view by standing in front of your desk, readjusting his bag on his shoulder in an awkward manner.

You can already feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach when you look up to acknowledge him, and that’s when the smile you had been holding back sets itself free.

“Hey.” You croak in an unattractive manner, which has you all but scrambling to take a sip out of your bottle of water. 

“Hi,” Spencer says with a small grin, “Are you about to leave?” 

You clear your throat after taking a hearty sip, and you shake your head. “I’m planning on staying behind tonight.” His brows furrow. “But it’s already –” He cuts himself off to look at his watch. “Twelve in the morning.”

You’re flustered by his fussing, but it just causes you to smile even wider. “I know, I know.” You groan. “But these files aren’t going to fill themselves out. Plus, if we get a case tomorrow, I’d rather not come back to a bigger stack.”

He seems to ponder on something, nibbling on the inside of his cheek before speaking. “How about if you come in early tomorrow morning, I’ll help you.” Your eyes widen. “Really?” He nods.

“Thank you!” You all but cheer. 

‘It’s a date’ You wish you could add.

“Well, I’m almost done with this one, so I’m just gonna finish up and I’ll head out. Promise.” He narrows his eyes at you skeptically. “Spence, I promise!” You laugh as you reiterate again.

“I could wait for you, if you’d like. We could catch the bus together.”

“Nah,” You decline. “The weather is nice out, so I wanna walk.” You cross your arms on your desk and lean on them. “If anything happens, I know how to fight. I’m an Agent too, y’know.”

Spencer looks reluctant to agree with your insistence on being alone, but you know that he understands that he can’t hover, so he takes a step back and nods.

“Alright. Be safe, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod once more.

You wish him well as he heads towards the elevator, and you don’t look away from the metal doors until they close fully.

The smile on your face softens, but nonetheless remains on your face as you finish up, Spencer’s previously sweet concern fueling you to practically fly through the pages.The gore on the pages barely affects you anymore as you scan picture after picture, filling out acknowledgements on dotted lines. 

You can feel the fatigue setting in as you shut the manilla folder, huffing as you leave on your desk and begin to put things in your bag. 

The emptiness of the office should be eerie, but it’s rather peaceful, you liked to think. You wave goodbye to the security guard standing near the front doors, the woman at the front desk long gone. 

The wind kisses your cheeks as you begin to walk, your shoes padding quietly on the concrete as you take off home.

Spencer was a… reluctant friend. A sweet office romance, if you will.

He was sweet in an awkward way, always trying to do good by himself and others and somehow sometimes getting in his own way. It was laughable really, how someone so smart could have their own human-like faults as well.

That’s what you admire about him, that’s what made you fall in love.

God forbid you ever tell him, though. Who knows what kind of coworker fraternizing rules they had put in place.

You weren’t even sure he likes you back. Yeah, he often checks on you, brings you coffee to help you battle your exhaustion, and even helps like tonight when he knew you needed it, but he does that with everyone.

You shiver, your shoulders jumping as you pull your blazer tighter around yourself.

‘Ugh’ you can’t help but groan internally, the chilly sweater weather always makes you feel so sappy.

You take a turn into a familiar alleyway, a cut through you always take on nights like these.

The air quickly turns stagnant when you pass through, the noise from the barren traffic halting, leaving you in an eerie silence. Now, it was creepy.

You throw a look behind your shoulder, but see nothing behind you, just the small space illuminated by the orange street lights. Your hand twitches toward the gun settled on your hip, half tempted to keep it outside your person just in case, but you resist.

You throw one last long look behind you before continuing forward.

The pain came before the sound.

Your chest felt as though someone had punched through it as you fell to the ground. You didn’t even acknowledge the bite of the fall, or the pain that ricocheted through your skull.

Your body ached and yet you couldn’t move your limbs. You had no idea where you were going, your thought process growing fuzzy. You attempted to lift your hand up, but it felt like there were weights tied to your wrists.

You fought it, and your palm was met with a sticky red substance that clung to every crevice of your hand.

Huh.

When did you get shot?

The world in your peripherals grew murky, the only thing you could focus on was the sky as your hand finally fell back to the side of you.

The smell of metal invaded your nose, and a sickening nausea overtook your body. You wanted to throw up, you wanted to move, you wanted to cry.

So many things and yet nothing at all.

Huh.

When did you close your eyes?

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @moonysreid @alexawynters @wheelsupkels @pinkpantheris @jaredpadonlyyyy @alphabetically-deranged

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eighteen: cockwarming kink

>>> idk why shiggy and cockwarming are like peanut butter and jelly to me...like i only have cravings for him when i'm deep in the caverns of my mental illness but...this is yummy? and i don't think it counts as cockwarming but shut up!!!

>>> starring: tomura shigaraki x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: cockwarming, established relationship, degradation, exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), p n v, creampie, implied multiple rounds. >>> wc: 3.1k >>> event masterlist

it was league tradition at this point. not even when the members were scattered to the winds to gather intel and work official villain business did the group miss weekly movie night. some members may or may not be there some weeks, sometimes you were all together, coupled off into platonic and romantic pairings to view whatever your leader picked out. whenever you were there, he let you pick, but it’s been quite some time since you’ve been back home. shigaraki regrets sending you so far out of reach. this assignment had taken you much longer than he would have liked, way longer. correspondence had grown slower, each message shorter than the last. you were tailing hawks to make sure he was trustworthy and it seems it was giving you a great deal of trouble. 

or maybe hawks was loyal to the heroes like shigaraki suspected and had gotten to you with his agenda, turning you into a double agent. well, no, that couldn’t be it. if that were so, you would do a better job of acting normal to keep him off your case. did you need help? no, again, he knows you would just tell him that too, so what was going on with you? were you mad at him? had he done something before you left? 

he thinks back a couple of months—the unbearable length of time you’ve been gone—trying to think of any reason you could be short with him. you didn’t have any big fights, he didn’t forget any anniversaries or special occasions, and he went easier on toga like you asked him to. the only possible thing he can think of is the fact that it was saturday, aka movie night, when you left— and he fell asleep watching the movie you picked—meaning he didn’t get to spend your last night with you or give you any goodbye-and-good-luck dick. he sighs aloud at the realization. you were absolutely petty enough to hold that against him, but he hoped you wouldn’t prolong your mission just to prove a point. 

this is the first time since the league started this little routine that he’s wanted to call it off. the rest of the league missed you too, if not because you were their friend, it was because tomura had grown so intolerable and irritable in your absence that they were begging nightly for your return. when saturday rolled around, and you still weren’t back, they watched their fearless leader sulk around like a kicked puppy all day. each member dreaded the nighttime. shigaraki was prone to throwing tantrums when he saw any of the league members get too friendly with one another in your absence, so it looks like they’ll all have to sit spread out for movie night. 

was he to be held accountable for the things he said and did while busy wallowing in his grief? some may say yes, but he was a strong believer in live and let live—you were certainly his better half. but you’ve been away for close to three months, and your effects are wearing off. he was incredibly snappy as he set the theater room up, the shitty little projector dabi stole was clearly running on its last legs. he was in no mood to pick out a goofy movie, not whenever he was wondering if you were even coming back at this point. he barked at twice to find something to watch—and the man was heavily influenced by toga’s opinions, so suicide squad seemed to be the answer. what a trash pick, he thinks. it’s why he’s in charge, and why only your opinions can influence his own. you would never have allowed suicide squad. 

that’s not the only reason tomura misses you, of course. he misses working on your own missions together, decorating the hideout to make it feel more like a home, the way you’d sit with him as he plays video games in his room, or how you two would cuddle as you’re falling asleep with his glove-clad hands all over you, and of course, your drooling pussy sucking him in over and over again. it’s been nearly three months since he’s gotten to see your face, inhale your familiar scent, or get anywhere close to cumming. he can’t even use his own hand anymore—you’ve spoiled him. he’s always been a shitty sleeper, too, but your body in his grasp was the magical cure—so of course he’s been getting next to no rest without you. he’ll never send you on a mission again. 

when he hears several bustling voices and a relieved “thank whoever put us on this flaming pile of shit” from dabi, he knows you’re home. mr. compress and kurogiri escort you into the movie room, where he waits for you. tomura nearly shouts, either at you for being gone so long or in relief that you’re finally home, he’s not sure. the corner of his mouth slides up in a reserved grin, but everyone can see the light return to his eyes. god forbid a world where you didn’t come back to him. 

“sorry i’m late for movie night everyone! i missed you!” you sing out to greet the room, but you’re only looking at your exhausted boyfriend. though he always carried a certain tired stress, he looked worse than usual, and you know that he hasn’t slept through the night since you’ve been gone. you’re on the love seat next to him immediately, jumping all over him and tightening your arms around his neck. his grin spreads, and kurogiri plays the movie to keep everyone else from having to watch in on your reunion and sickening love fest. 

he slides his arm around your back, humming sleazily in your ear. “finally. took you long enough, babe.” he huffs, taking that deep inhale of your sweet smell and sighing his relaxation quietly. his mood is relieved just by holding your frame and feeling your soft hair tickling his cheek. you giggle and sigh too, and he feels the weight of your body slump into his. 

“don’t i know it, was beginning to think you hated me for sending me out there for so long.” you pout, releasing him from your grip to gain sight of his face. he rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a tiny amused grin donning his features. 

“you’ll never leave this hideout again. i missed you.” he pinches some of your hair between his fingers and curls the piece around his digits as he looks over your face, gazing at your soft eyes and gentle lips, full cheeks, and everything else he’s missed for what feels like forever. you hum in intrigue at the ‘threat’ and kiss him. you can’t afford to go too hot and heavy with all your friends in the room, but you wanted your boyfriend to know you missed him just as badly as he missed you. your nights weren’t spent sleeping comfortably and every day you felt more and more lost without tomura’s logic keeping you on task. you nibble at his bottom lip, laving your tongue over him with a little moan. he grins, you’re the extrovert, but he’s not shy about making you noisy in front of the others. you feel him smile against your lips before he pulls away, trailing kisses over your cheek until he can bite the lobe of your ear. you gasp sharply, and he’s tossing a blanket over your hips for modesty’s sake. 

you smirk knowingly, lifting your skirt over your ass as the blanket falls in your lap. “oh so my little slut did miss me..” he whispers, licking over your jawline as he reaches under the blanket. the pads of his first two fingers swipe over you panties, tracing the outlines of your lips with a nasty little grin. he can feel your wetness pooling against the fabric already, your desperation making his cock rise against his sweats. he casts his eyes around to make sure no one’s watching, but he’s trained his league better than that. he slides his hand under your waistband, finding your clit automatically. you feel your stomach flutter in response to his touch, the fabric of his mostly fingerless gloves scratch against the inside of your thigh as he presses his sinewy finger in circles around your bundle. you fall against him, head rolling around on his shoulder within seconds. 

he knew you like he built you himself, and he knew that after a trip away—the both of you were insatiable—but you were all too easy to work up. you would tell him all about the mission later. there would be plenty to catch up on after he gives you all you’ve been missing here lately. tomura would be lying if he said that watching you stifle your noises and wiggle against the cushions didn’t affect him, his dick was crying for you. fingering you in front of the league was one thing, fucking you was another. but his body was growing too hot to bear, and he could tell from the need in your eyes that even having him inside you would relieve some of your ache. that should be fine, they wouldn’t look at you no matter what—they knew better than that, but he still didn’t want them hearing your sweet sounds. that was just for him. but with your hips bucking into his hand, and yours clamping down over your mouth as he shoves you over the edge with his fingers—he knows he’ll need to feel you. 

he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants before he can argue with himself too long about it. his cock stands straight up in wait, and before you know it, tomura’s hands are on your hips and he’s pulling you into his lap. your brain was still mush, veins coursing with the pleasure of being reunited and under his spell. you were so focused on not making any noises that you didn’t even give your needy boyfriend a look of disapproval. he pretends like you’re the problem as if he would be able to sit here with his hands to himself, but you know the truth. shigaraki is just as helpless as you are, hence his finger curling around your panties and hooking them to the side so he can lower you on his waiting cock. 

he makes you sit all at once, and he clamps his free hand over your mouth before you can react to the stretch. then he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest. “keep quiet and sit still.” 

you nod vigorously, though you know you’re agreeing to something impossible. you were crazy with need, his fingers only unlocked the gate of your desire. you hadn’t had this dick in you for too long, and now that the length is fully sheathed in you—you’re ordered to sit still? it burns, your hole needed to be stretched back open to accommodate his sizeable length, long curved shaft angled just right against the spots you needed him most–but it wasn’t enough. you needed movement, you needed to hear him grunt and moan and speak unimaginable filth in your ear. you whine out softly, when the movie was loud enough you thought only tomura would hear.

he can feel you squeezing, and despite his orders, you wiggle in his lap irregardless. he should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle obedience after so much time apart, but it’s nothing he can’t remind you of. truth be told, he’s losing his cool too. he missed your wet cunt gripping him like this—how could he be angry at you for needing him so badly when he’s no better? he couldn’t, really, he could only be amused with your affection for him even if it assuaged every worry he had about you leaving him all that time you were gone. his hands dig into your fatty hips to use them as his own personal stress ball, kneading and squeezing on his whim. he can feel everything, every nerve on his body was acutely aware of every labored breath you took and each pound of his heart. he didn’t know if he could be strong much longer—and he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. 

“you guys have your own room—why do we have to suffer through this?” dabi huffs out, clearly aware of what was going on in the room. twice clasps his hands by his cheek, disagreeing with his teammate. 

“young love! they just missed each other! at least he isn’t pout—” 

“out.” tomura hisses, cock jumping from knowing you were caught. you just clamp around him in answer, just as shameless as your boyfriend. “don’t speak—get out.” 

the other members gave mixed reactions, some rolled their eyes and huffed their way out the door, the others chuckled knowingly—they would rather deal with this shigaraki than the one that misses you any day of the week. when the door shuts and you two are left alone, a mixture of fabric and skin taps against your jaw. tomura held your face in his grip, fingers dancing along your bone in a teasing way. 

“my slut forgot how to listen, hm?” he asks rhetorically, sliding his grip to your neck. he squeezes with just the right amount of pressure to make you dizzy and open your mouth—though he can’t see your skanky face right now. you’re lucky he was just as needy right now or he was liable to leave his dick in you until it went soft without ever moving—but tonight? tonight he needed to reclaim his slutty little cunt until the sun came up. 

“been so long since i had to take orders.” you huff, maybe you were annoyed with him after all. 

he snickers. “attitude, little slut.” he says with a harsher squeeze to your neck. tomura can’t deny his entertainment–you got your nickname from your neediness, after all. “are you really mad at me?” he asks, and you know he wants a real answer. 

“annoyed—why’d you want me gone?” you huff, and he angles his hips up into you without warning. you gasp sharply at the stab, leaning forward to hold onto his knees. 

“didn’t want you gone, brat.” he sighs, letting off your throat in favor of holding the natural handlebars of your curves as he pushes your back forward to watch his dick plow in and out of you, his grip your only guidance. your moans start immediately, and he can’t help but smirk. “you’re my right hand, you’re the only one i can trust with some shit.” 

you purr at his explanation, bouncing along him on your own accord. he’s massive, filling every gap your pussy had to offer unapologetically. he presses against the entrance of your cervix without any movement at all, much less the animalistic style your boyfriend liked to fuck in, it was brutal. but so so good. it burns and sends shooting yet blissful pain through your body with every stroke, you slip forward a little, growing unable to hold yourself up. he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up without remorse. 

“where you going, slut?” he teased, slamming up into you. it was unfair, he was gifted with such a huge dick he didn’t even need a good angle to absolutely wreck you. he was mesmerized by the sight of your cute little hole puckering around him, swallowing him whole and letting him slide back out. you would squeeze down with every thrust, making him slow down to pull himself out and speedily shove back in. “can’t even take good dick anymore?” 

you mewl out in response, your fingers digging into his thighs as your back arches deeper, only encouraging your boyfriend to speed it all up. it’s like you can feel him in your throat, your entire body being used and abused by the man you missed desperately. shigaraki treats you like his prized treasure any other time, but especially after a trip away—you love being his slut. you moan and through your ass back, making him groan out at the conflicting paces. 

“so nasty. fucking you stupid and look at you—like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, though it’s all so pornographic to him. no other pussy in the world would feel like yours, your cute clamping and sticky wetness could never be beat. and your insides practically beat into the shape of him, he knows no other dick would have your toes curling as you bounce  and squeal. 

“tomura—” your breathy moan makes his balls hurt. he didn’t care how quickly he came this time. he’ll keep you spread open all night until he’s satisfied with the amount of cum seeping out of the hole made just for him. he wanted you to cum twice as many times as he does, so your sweet moan of his name and your fluttering pussy only tell him to snake his arm around your hips so he can rub your puffy clit again. he loves these gloves you got him, the mesh fabric makes it easier for him to feel everything without fear of quirk activation. he can feel your pulsing need under his fingertips, and he smiles at your sensitivity. you were such a gift to a man like him. 

“what? use your words.” he huffs in disinterest, though you know it’s anything but. your gut lurches, feeling like you stepped on an escalator that was moving too fast. 

“wanna cum, can i please, tomura?” you ask sweetly, calling his name just how he liked and everything. he had every intention of drawing this out—but he supposes he can have that during your next round. 

“do it now.” he orders, gruff voice telling you that there would be no punishment if you didn’t—unless you considered taking him all night a punishment. the sound of him groaning and feeling your body made it easy to follow his orders, your hips still even as his continue their assault. you shake from head to toe, the orgasm so intense after such a long time without cumming on his cock. you squeeze down so hard he sucks in a deep breath, knowing he was going to shoot his load like mount vesuvius. you hum happily, wiggling back on him to milk all the warmth he gave you. he slows his hips to a stop, panting only a little as he pushes you carefully off his lap and onto the love seat. “want to see my slut’s nasty faces this time.” 

he grins as he spreads your legs again, ready to stain the cushions beneath, when someone knocks at the door. twice pounds on the frame again, pouting. 

“can you guys at least pause the movie?” 

[maiselyormaiforshort]

Facts in my ideal Tfp species swap au

Humans←→cybertronions

•most of the decepticons are terrified of the cybertronions

•Megs tries to gaslight the trio into joining the decepticons multiple times

•MicDrop(Miko) is built like a Decepticon(sharp teeth,sharp hands and sharp build)

•HackRate(Raf) feet can turn into roller blades(vroomx2 skkkrrrtttt)

•Dune(June) and Arcee trauma bond over their dead lovers/Conjuixes

•KnockOut has a 261108011 steps skincare routine

•WheelJack uses a 25 in 1 soap/shampoo/shave cream/cooking oil/butter/olive oil/Heck there's probably more uses of it

•StarScream wears eyeliner and uses Soundwaves face plate as a mirror

•there are stitches around BumbleBee's neck cuz some deception ripped his vocal cords out

•SoundWave is born mute

•the humanformers actually have real names but prefer to go by their nicknames

•Ratcget has asthma

•arachnid is lebanese- Lebanon- uhhh the L word

•BreakDown dies but gets resurrected because I physically,mentally and verbally cannot describe a character death

•ShockWave,Ultra Magnus and Rodimus are trans and (again) I will not elaborate

•Megs let's KnockOut sharpen his nails because he views them as "threatening claws"

•MicDrop blasts meme sounds the chance she gets on the big speakers on her back

•CrackerJack(Jack)has a book bigger than the average cybertronion book with the title being "human slangs and insults"

•HackRate somehow adapted to human culture faster than the other cybertronions,this includes Agent Growler(Agent Frowler) and Dinobot Dune

•the Decepticons only meet Dune 3-4 times a season but when they do they suddenly regret every decision they have made to lead up to her Arrival

•Ultra Magnus said a cybertronion insult before without knowing and the cybertronions can never see him the same

•Agent Growler accused Starscream and KnockOut of wearing wigs before

•the humans in this au are all adults exept for the predacons being 13-17,but they are Hella strong and taller rhan the average human

•Optimus doesn't die

•tgey all live happily ever after and go to therapy

•ratchet and breakdown get high together on crack energon,I will not elaborate

•energon is similar to dr*gs in this au,if used wrongly BOOM SHAKALAKA,the autobots only use it because food is scarce on earth

•forgot to mention cybertronions can eat ANYTHING in this au but they eat cybertronion food mostly

• all Cybertronions have a cybertronion equivalent of a telephone,it's similar to the ones in Steven Universe but more similar to a flip phone(messaging,pictures,browsing,music,etc)

•BumbleBee is the youngest member of the Autobots being 21

•SoundWave and ShockWave have been dating since before the war but nobody really noticed untill SoundWave mentioned it when he got a promotion

•Arachnid has 12 fingers and toes

•StarScream still wears heels

[sonicasura]

Raising Skully

Some ideas around Kaiju No 8.5 Skully. This includes both versions which will be marked with either a 🌺 for Hoshina or a 🐞 for Kafka. Please enjoy!

Skully can eat normal human food as their baby teeth is sharp enough to chew the stuff but also digest it with no issue. They really like peanut butter, fish, apples and chicken the most. Skully also requires twice the amount of food a normal human child needs. (Rip Kafka's wallet.)

The baby kaiju's biology is quite different from their parent. It's more than just a chubby gecko like tail. Skully converts any waste material into a sludge that they can spit out as a self defense mechanism. Their diet affects how corrosive or sticky the stuff is and at worst can weaken the hardness of even the toughest kaiju hide.

Skully showed this ability once when a spider spooked them. The room was temporarily quarantined afterwards until the sizzling puddle was cleaned up. Both sides might've preferred changing diapers than deal with acidic sludge.

🌺 Whenever Hoshina has to go on missions or leave base, Okonogi is in charge of Skully. The baby is surprising well-behaved in the monitoring room as they sleep or watch her work. Skully however will run out to Hoshina if they sense he's in terrible danger. Or how No. 10 got a sludge bomb to the face.

Skully's fortitude is a 2.8 but will raise to a frightening 7.5 if enraged. They only enter this stage should their respective parent be in grave danger. Horn nubs sharpening, back spines elongating, finally their eyes glowing a hazardous green are signs of 'combat mode' activating. Skully has the ability to enhance those they cling onto and even form a barrier once in 'combat state'. They however fall asleep after 3 minutes from exhaustion.

🐞 Kafka tends to shift into Kaiju form whenever tending to Skully. He's more open to expressing his inhuman instincts such as licking, purring, and chittering back at his whelp. If Reno or Kikoru sees him doing this than they won't say a word.

Skully loves art especially finger painting. Best to keep an eye on them and lock up any materials such as ink. The 3rd Division woke up to all of their walls covered in childish drawings over night.

🌺 Hoshina once mused over the idea of having Skully lead him to his 'mama'. Teaching them the word and pointing at a Kaiju No.8's picture. It was shoved aside by Okonogi who thought it was a little too insane.

Skully aids Hoshina in his fight with No. 10. Trying to clean up the blood off his face by licking it would later grant them the ability to take a human form. (Their saliva has minor healing agents.) A visage that looks like a mix between Hoshina and Kafka.

🐞 The Monster Sweepers help babysit Skully when needed. It usually happens if training ends up being off base or a mission were to happen. They even gotten modified baby clothes and toys for Skully.

Kafka immediately calms in the presence of his whelp. Even the most intense rage will die with a soft chirp from Skully. Don't dare try to harm the baby when Kafka's around or else. (Same goes for Hoshina after awhile.)

First words are said at the two week threshold. Skully will call Kafka 'mama' and Hoshina 'papa' whenever possible. (The former secretly cries in joy.) Skully also calls those they don't like or doesn't trust 'Bada'.

Learns to walk on two feet in a week. (It definitely was recorded.) Skully prefers to roam on all fours and half the reason being they can stick to walls like a gecko better that way. They still remain a very fast mobile disaster either way.

I'll be drawing Skully soon so stay tune for that.

@drmarune @popipopipopipopipo000 @renard-dartigue @discoknack

[bits-and-babs]

𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓 — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀.

↳ summary: When the DEA picks you up during a drugs bust, Agent Peña tries unconventional interrogation methods to force you to spill the information you have.

↳ pairing: javier peña x f!reader

↳ [2.4k words] content: 18+ MDNI. Mentions of Pablo Escobar, Dickhead!Javi, Dub-con (uneven power dynamic — consent isn’t asked of reader but she is willing <3), spanking (both hand and belt), edging. Rough p in v sex, unprotected sex, cumshot. This is a @beskarbabs remaster - original post date 2021.

javi masterlist I| main masterlist |I join the taglist here

“The phrase butter wouldn't melt in his/her mouth describes someone who appears demure, innocent or sincere but is, in fact, unkind, devious or insincere. The idea is that the person in question is so calm, cool and collected that butter wouldn't even melt in his mouth.”

The door abruptly opening cuts through the hour-long silence and jolts you in your seat. The stunted movement remind you of the irritating ache in the joints of your shoulders and the painfully tight metal cuffs around your wrists that keep you restrained. The DEA agent that stands before you watches with a vacant gaze, refusing to speak at first. His broad biceps bulge as he crosses his arms across his chest, weight shifting onto one foot.

The DEA had been trying to get you to talk for a good four hours now. They'd sent in a young, blonde American with a strong southern drawl who introduced himself as Agent Murphy. Despite his coercion, you refused to do much more than look at him with a fatigued and inattentive expression. He'd given up pressing you after some time before sending in who he called 'Carillo'. He was ruthless, threatening to deport you, to expose you to the rival cartels and have them deal with you - however violent that may be. He, too, had been unable to obtain any information.

So they had sent in who you assumed were the 'big guns'. Though, you found quiet confidence in the fact it was a man wearing a salmon-pink shirt and yellow aviators - not the most daunting get-up you'd seen. He’s far from intimidating as Carillo had been, but he’s certainly handsome. Laying some files on the desk, he rests his palms flat on the table as he leans down to look you in the eyes.

"You may want to start talking," he begins his interrogation, and you glance down at your lap, dejected. You’re confident he knows the score. He's been through this before with countless cartel members. From the very bottom of the pecking order to the closest aids of el patron, you don’t talk about cartel business to authorities. You faced death if you did- public execution. Keeping your lips sealed, you’re unable to look at him for fear of this new agent somehow managing to piece you together.

It was stupid. He couldn't read your mind, obviously, but you were exhausted and under severe pressure.

He looks you over, chocolatey gaze lingering longer than it should. He observes your reluctance to talk, the way you seem fearful to detail your ordeal.

The agent raises a cigarette to his lips, lighting up as he paces behind you. Staring ahead of you, you attempt to smother any sign of weakness— any reason to close in on you. Instead, you jump in surprise when you feel his breath against the shell of your ear.

"I can get you out of this mess, Preciosa. I just need some information,” he murmurs, fingers gliding down your forearms in a ghost-like touch to your wrist. You feel his thumb trace the curve of the too-tight cuffs that restrain you to the chair, and you wince as he traces the bruising skin there. Pausing momentarily, he considers his next move before taking out a key to unlock them.

A moan of relief escapes your lips as you feel the blood rush back into your wrists. You pull your arms around the chair again, rolling your shoulders to relieve the pain that had been building there. Fuck, that felt so much better-

A hand takes your chin, forcing you to look at the agent who had released you. Shock floods your body, as not even Carillo, who had been rather aggressive, had touched you.

"You're going to start talking. You hear me?" He speaks, his tone demanding yet eerily soft.

You hadn't intended to become a part of the Cartel scene, but desperation and need for money had beaten you down. So, when a man approached you and offered to pay money in exchange for you sitting in his taxi as a passenger through the streets of Medellin, you swore it was a blessing. You had been careless and accepted the offer before even realising what you’d signed up for. Had you known you would be serving as a front for the Kingpin of Medellin, Pablo Escobar, who would lay in the trunk of the taxi as it ferried him around the city, you wouldn't have agreed to anything.

Needless to say, there was no backing out of a deal with the devil. Especially when you were the shield for Satan himself. That still stood, even when the Drug Enforcement Agency caught with one of Escobar's closest allies. The DEA had noticed you in the taxi multiple times during their stake-outs of the streets of Medellin and thus had ordered your arrest. With an explanation, you were facing deportation and life imprisonment. Without an explanation - execution.

The agent exhales smoke from his cigarette, tapping his foot on the floor to signal he’s waiting. You clear your throat weakly, beginning to state your case.

"I promise I haven't done anyth-"

"You will address me with 'Agent Peña' before you speak. Do you understand?" he asks you. You stare at him, abdomen twisting with his authoritative tone, but equally shocked by what he said. Without a leg to stand on, you mutter gently 'Yes, Agent Peña'.

"Good," he murmurs, stroking his thumb down your jaw as he gazes into your eyes. You feel your heart stutter, taken by his audacious attitude. He abruptly pulls your face forward, closing the space between you swiftly as a mouthwatering scent of vanilla enters your senses. You note the slightly artificial tinge to the smell. Was that his aftershave?

"I suggest that you start telling me why you were with those men," he whispers, taking in the details of your lips as he speaks. You part them slowly, considering your next move. Would they protect you if you did? You'd often heard of 'rats' being safeguarded by the US government...

You decide not to take the risk.

"Agent Peña, I don't know anythi-" you gasp as he pulls you forward by your wrists, throwing you over the freezing metal table. Before you have the chance to sit back up, his hand is pressing between your shoulder blades, pinning you to the surface. Your raised heart rate causes your breath to come out in soft pants, the respiration causing the shiny desk to fog up. What-?!

"You can't keep lying to me like this. I'll get an answer," he murmurs, the irritation evident in his voice as he begins palming at your ass through your denim jeans. You wriggle your hips, trying to break free, but he spanks you hard, enough for your skin to prickle and sting through the denim. You cry out in shock, attempting to look over your shoulder at the agent.

"Remember, Hermosa; I can get you out of this mess. I can find you a place to go..." His words are feather soft, but his tone is stern as you feel his fingers slip between your legs, searching for your clit through your jeans. Your back arches as he finds it, a soft moan trickling from your lips as he focuses his attention there and waits expectantly for some form of confession.

When he doesn't receive it, he spanks you again, harder this time. You sob out, pressing your forehead to the desk that's quickly warming up under your burning skin.

"You look like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, sweetheart. But we know better, don't we?" he questions, stroking the prickling pain his smack caused. You flush red at that, feeling him squeeze your ass gently. You can't tell if he's talking about your criminal record or your sexual interests - regardless, he reaches his hand around your front and down the waistband of your jeans.

"You're so wet," he says, a smirk evident from the sound of his voice as he traces your pussy with the tips of his fingers through your soaked underwear, "I've barely even touched you." You whine in embarrassment, closing your eyes tight at the pleasure that arcs up your spine.

"Tell me why you were there," he commands, focusing his touch on your clit once again. Your toes curl in your shoes, pining as he grinds his hard cock against your ass.

"I-... I made a d-deal!" you choke out a sob as he pinches your clit. There's a pause as Agent Peña seems to consider what you said before he's unbuttoning your jeans with deft fingers.

"Continue."

"I can't say- fuck- I can't say anything-!” You moan out as he pushes your panties to the side, slipping his fingers into your soaked cunt within seconds.

"Be a good girl..." he goads, pressing the heel of his palm into your clit as the pads of his fingertips feel at your walls. You're beginning to aggravate him; you can hear it in his voice.

"I can't!" you moan loudly, pushing your hips to take his fingers deeper. Agent Peña doesn't even hesitate as you hear his belt unbuckle and his zip come down with his free hand.

"So unsuspecting. Aren't you? You look so innocent... But look at you," he growls in a voice as thick as honey, taking his fingers out of you and spanking you hard again, "Such a filthy girl."

You press your cheek to the table, still pinned down on your front as he kicks your feet apart and slips down your jeans.

You hear a groan as he feels at your ass again, observing the red marks his hands have made under the dim lighting. Peña grips at your ass and the back of your thighs roughly, taking in the view of you in your panties. You whimper, pushing your hips back with the need to be filled by his fingers again.

"You haven’t given me what I want," he scolds you lightly, too invested in the view to put any real effort into it as he slips down your panties. You feel your slick stick to the inside of your thighs as he pulls your underwear away from your core, replaced quickly by his fingers as they begin to slowly circle your clit.

"Agent Peña..." you beg, wanting more- needing more than just his fingers. Instead, you hear the crack of leather against your skin before you truly feel it, but the onslaught of burning, skin-splitting pain is enough for you to yelp. It hurts, but the sting combined with his dexterous fingers hurtles you towards orgasm much quicker.

You're soaking his fingers, and he can feel your walls tightening around him. He removes his digits, once again not allowing you to cum despite the tears of desperation that slip down your face.

"Tell me, and I'll let you cum," he insists, hand rubbing your prickling skin in an attempt to ease the pain. You gasp weakly, gripping the edge of the table as you fall apart, needing his cock inside of you.

"I rode in the back of the taxi. I was a c-cover for Pablo Escob-bar. He was in the trunk!" You babble, yelping as he grips your ass.

"Could you give me the addresses of where you went in that taxi?" Peña asked, gently pinning the side of your head to the desk but amping up the intensity of his interrogation.

"I-I can remember s-some!" You cry out as he impales you on his cock in reward for opening up. He splits you open, the ache between your legs delicious with the mix of your overstimulated clit. You grip the edge of the desk to brace yourself as he allows you to adjust to the length of his cock, which is already throbbing at the tightness of your cunt around him.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate," he practically coos, wrapping your hair around his fingers. You keen at his words, tilting your hips slightly.

That's all Agent Peña needs. Tugging on your hair, he uses it as leverage to piston his hips into you as he holds your hip in an iron-tight hold with his free hand. He uses this grip to tilt your hips upwards so your balance on your tiptoes. You moan loudly, overwhelmed at the sensation as his cock fills you just right.

"This is what you like, isn't it?" He tightens the grip hard enough that you'll leave this room with his fingerprints imprinted on your skin, "You look so innocent, but you just want a dick to cum on, don't you?"

You mewl, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust as he steadily spits utter filth at you.

"D-Don't st-stop," you choke out, holding on for dear life as mind-numbing bliss creeps its way up your spine, settling- building. The agent grunts with the exertion, noting the way you push your hips back with each thrust in an attempt to take him even deeper.

"Fuck, you're such a little slut!” he growls, spanking you again as you cry brokenly. His hips pound into you so fucking hard, still using your hair as leverage as the pain and the pleasure all build to an earth-shattering crescendo.

You cum so hard that your body crumples inwards, everything fading as heat rips through you. The rapture is so great that your toes curl in your shoes to the point they cramp up. It's eviscerating; your entire body just overwhelmed by the pleasure to the point you can't even hear your own loud sobbing.

"F-Fuck-!" Peña growls, dick throbbing as it pulls out of you, leaving you breathless as you hear a groan rip through the DEA Agents' throat. He cums, spurting thick ropes over your back as he continues to jerk himself off with one hand, the other keeping himself steady with his palm on the desk beside your waist.

Finally, you're both still and quiet, the only noise being that of yours and Peña's heavy breathing as the two of you try to collect yourselves. He clears his throat after a while, tucking himself back into his pants. Laying on your front still, dazed from the dicking down you just received, you hear him mumble under his breath.

"Could you give me those addresses please?"

... At least he asked nicely.

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[phillippadgettwrites]

Sense, Chapter 3: Smell

Rated X / 1130 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder leans across the console with a familiar impish glint in his eye, the corner of his mouth already cocked in amusement. 

“That’s a direct violation of the Bureau’s agent conduct policy, you know,” he teases, so close that the heat of his breath warms her cheeks. 

The skunky bite of cheap motel coffee creeps into her nose, alongside something so distinctly Mulder that she could never properly describe it. When did she learn to recognize the smell of his breath? 

She lifts her head and smiles at him mirthfully, knowing that the rest of their day will be spent carefully suppressing flirtatious one-liners and sidelong glances. 

“You’re not going to report me, are you?” she asks, feigning helplessness, and he laughs, sending another waft of his toothpaste-spiked coffee breath her way. 

She feels a flush from her shoulders to her pelvis, ending in a hearty throb from her clit. Her face falls, caught off guard by her own arousal, and Mulder quirks his head at her curiously. 

“Something wrong?”

Scully shakes her head, turning towards the windshield and sitting up straighter in her seat. 

“We should probably get moving,” she tells him, and he starts the engine.

She’s recently learned that he’s handsy in the morning, pawing at her under her T-shirt while she spreads butter over freshly toasted bread. He likes to watch her get ready for work and then hike her skirt up around her hips so he can eat her pussy before they drive to the Hoover in separate cars, or bend her over her kitchen table with her slacks bunched up around her knees and fuck her so hard it makes her eyes water and her mascara run. He doesn’t even come most of the time, perhaps as a courtesy so she doesn’t have to feel him leaking out of her half the day—not that she’d mind it. When he sleeps over, she wakes to the smell of coffee brewing and realizes she’s already turned on. 

He might get her in the shower, two fingers curled up inside her and the butt of his palm pressed against her clit, the huff of his coffee breath and the sight of his stiff wet cock taking her over the edge. He could pop her up on the edge of the kitchen counter, still in her robe, and fuck her in long, deep strokes while he sucks on her earlobe. Sometimes she doesn’t even make it out of bed before he rolls her onto her belly and slips into her from behind. Prone and half asleep, she’s coming before she hears the coffee pot beep its announcement that it’s done brewing.

But today she woke up alone in a motel bed, the only identifiable smell the musk of a prior occupant who did not adhere to the room’s non-smoking designation. No one watched her strip off her pajamas or slipped in behind her in the shower. No one waited until she was primped and polished to defile her below the waist. It makes her feel like pouting, which she knows is ridiculous. 

Scully huffs an overly dramatic sigh and watches the flat pasture land surrounding the highway whip past them. She has a feeling it’s going to be a long day. 

“Do you wanna stop for coffee?” Mulder asks, and she turns and looks at him. 

He looks markedly delicious in his navy suit and gray tie, and she can practically feel the smoothness of his freshly shaved cheek on her lips. Coffee isn’t the pick-me-up she wants right now. 

He flashes her a surprised smile and her cheeks heat up at her own boldness; she hadn’t entirely meant to say that last part out loud. 

“It’s another half hour to the police station,” he says, reaching across the console and playing with the hem of her skirt between her knees. 

Scully looks around like someone could be watching, but the road is next to deserted and his hand is hidden well below the window. 

“I don’t know…” she says weakly, but she feels blood rushing to her cunt and she knows she’s already wet. 

“Pull your skirt up,” he says, eyes on the road. His tone is just commanding enough to make her want to comply. 

She tugs her skirt up past the tops of her thigh-high panty hose, exposing the cherry red gusset of her panties. She looks around again, then spreads her legs to make room for his hand. She tells herself that she’s doing it for him. 

Mulder groans when he touches the damp fabric between her legs, and she watches the side of his face as he slips two fingers behind it and gently strokes her slippery lips—the flex of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes as he forces himself to keep them open. He plays with her clit a little before he finger-fucks her steadily, his breath huffing and his free hand gripped tightly on the steering wheel. He looks at her in short flashes, sometimes her face and sometimes his hand between her legs. She can see the tent of his erection at the front of his slacks and she slumps down a little, curling her hips forward to give him as much access as possible. 

Scully swallows hard and tries to keep her expression neutral and her eyes open. She tries not to look like her partner has one arm slung over the console and his fingers inside her, like she’s not quickly approaching climax. 

Mulder slips his fingers out of her and pushes her panties to the side with three of them while stroking her clit with his index finger. Soft, consistent, concentric circles that lift her higher and higher, making her legs tingle and her mind go blank. 

“I’m coming,” she whispers, and he stuffs his fingers back inside her just as she erupts. 

Scully turns her face toward him, tucking her chin to hide her expression from any onlookers, and comes long and hard around his fingers. 

“Exit’s coming up,” he says, pulling his hand away. 

She sits up quickly, tugging her skirt down and checking her reflection in the visor to be sure she doesn’t give herself away. Her clit is still giving off latent throbs when they pull into the parking lot of the police station. 

Mulder parks and looks over at her, a self-satisfied smirk on his mouth. He takes a sip of tepid coffee from the paper cup he brewed at the motel, then smacks his lips and pops his eyebrows at her. 

“Feeling better?” he asks, and she suppresses the urge to kiss him. 

“Much,” she says casually. “I could go for a cup of coffee, though.”

He laughs, and she smiles, and they go to work like they always do

[foli-vora]

A tiny teaser of a little moment between painter and Marcus in the upcoming chapter of Run to You, coming July 28th!

I love them so much and just want them to fucking kiss already.

After a few moments of feeling him fumble beneath your jacket and watching the growing twitches of annoyance break his calm expression with a surprising slight bit of amusement, you relent.

“You can come closer if you need to.”

His eyes flash up to meet yours, brown irises studying your features before a smile pulls at the corner of his lips. He moves, still keeping a careful amount of distance between your bodies but close enough to feel the weight of his presence.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“The big bad FBI agent has butter fingers,” you retort quietly, lips twitching. “They let you hold a gun with those?”

He blinks in surprise at your teasing jab, the curve of his light smile quickly deepening until it causes the dimples in his cheeks to show. You used to love his dimples, often finding yourself compelled to trace them with your fingertips whenever he was close enough to. He’d always welcome it, tilting his face further into your touch or kissing your palm.

Your fingers twitch at your sides.

“Now that’s not fair,” he argues playfully, “I’ve only dropped it a couple of times.”

[bbraefairy]

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS - black!reader, f!reader, oral sex, teasing, 18+ characters. for the black girlies but readers of all ethnicities are welcome to enjoy!

a/n - my first time writing in this fandom. sumn for me to get used to, so i started off easy. lmk how u guys like it, & if u want more!

ִ ࣪𖤐༄

“I love when you do this in the morning.” Your soft voice tumbled out of your lips.

Megumi was rough around the edges, tender at the core. The world saw a stoic, bothered man, but with you, Megumi was everything soft and sweet.

You wore a white, french-styled lace bralette, and a thong to match. Your stomach was flat on the white silk linen, one cheek set on the silken pillowcase. Petals of carnations and roses were adorned around your body. Lavender candle, crackling and dripping molten wax on the nightstand.

Just because he wanted to.

The morning was an invitation to become agents of dreams and loving actions. Rays of sunlight doused your room with pools of amber and gold. The gust through the windows gracefully lifted the curtains as a gift of freshness. The sky was a blend of smudged stars, argent, and ivory clouds that flowed across the sky in the form of broken verses.

“I know you do.” Megumi’s hand’s, lathered in thick shea butter, pressed from your lower back, up to your shoulder blades. His fingers splayed firmly as he did so, compressing deep-seated passion into your well-melanated flesh.

Megumi was all for helping you unravel into your feminine and romantic persona. He was aware that the world was misogynistic and dominated by the patriarchy, with little to no concern of minorities— such as black women. He was invested in caring for you, helping you on wash days, buying some of your favorite hair and skin care, reading some of Maya Angelou’s poetry with you. He wasn’t afraid to embrace and delve into your culture.

There was no way he was going to love a woman without embracing her full being. Who she was, where she came from, what she experiences, why she interacts with the world the way she does, how such an epitome can exist at the same time as her. He made it his daily and utmost duty to care for you, even when it was hard to, even when it hurt.

Megumi kneaded his strong hands on the expanse of your shoulders, letting out a breath as he lined your figure with his touch. Hips patterned with marks that showed the capacity of a woman to grow and change. Curves and dips to show that you are a muse, a piece of art not to be reckoned with. Childhood scars, birthmarks, hyperpigmentation.

He loved you in full.

“Your skin, it’s so, so gorgeous.” He watches the butter pave paths of rich oil and glisten on your arms.

You let out a soft noise of delight, “Thank you, Megumi.”

Megumi gathers more of the raw extract and slips his hands down the back of your thighs, going down, then up, right below your behind.

Megumi’s voice, commanding, “Open up a little for me, angel.”

You spread your legs a bit, then Megumi dips his hands between your inner thighs. You contort a bit as his grasp reaches a sensitive cluster of nerves. Then his hands return to the outer thighs, then up the spine again.

Megumi progresses, smoothing his hand over your afro-textured hair that was concealing your face. The curls are gravity-defying and abundant. Your hair stands proud to Megumi’s touch, and he smiles. He always loved how strong-willed your hair appeared, it was just like you.

He peppers delicate, deep and languid kisses on the slope of your neck. Megumi’s lips wander to the terrain of your back. He kissed, sucked there. Dragged his hand on your hip, held the hip in place.

Megumi was following up his hand massage with a series of radiant kisses. Down the spine that bound the body of a plethora of dark and hidden mysteries. His hands ran across the shape of some more of your figure as he continued to press his lips on areas of your body.

You closed your eyes. Listened to his kisses growing hotter as they neared your thighs. Heard the quickening breath he was breathing. Feeling his touch start to lose focus.

It was all happening slowly but surely, but you were going to wait until Megumi said something.

You knew within yourself, you were a cascade of sensations and a symphony of desire.

Way before the shea butter.

There it was.

Urgent, but expected.

He paused.

Whispered. Tone covered in imperfect lust.

“Sweetheart, do me a favor,” The urge was welling up from his depths this time around. This was one of the times you knew there was a second part to the morning routine.

“Bend your back ‘nd let me eat you.”

“I was waiting to hear you say that,” You smiled, getting on all fours, “It’s one of those mornings, isn’t it, babe?”

Megumi sighed as your back formed into an arch, “Think so. We gon’ find out.”

Megumi slipped off the thong, put it aside. Clapped his hand on your ass, squeezed it, making you squeal.

“I’mma eat you out as a starter,” He lines his fingers just above your folds, semi-soaked in arousal. “Pussy’s prettier than the last time I left her.”

Megumi felt the adrenaline ebbing his body as he wiped his tongue on a piece of Heaven between your thighs. Your teeth clench, you brace your body for the cunnilingus.

His oral performance. You were the stage, and he was the show.

Megumi traced detailed circles on your oil-spread lower back and thigh. “Flinchin’ already, angel? I taught you better than that.”

You husked, “Megumi, please don’t tease me. Not this time.”

“There’s never gonna be a time where I don’t tease you, sweet girl.” Megumi gave your umber pussy lips crude, salacious sucks, drawing a whine from you.

Your pussy was like the petals of a flower. Blossoming with an itch only he could scratch. Every interstice and layer was asymmetrical. Seeping with nectar as he paid homage to your special place.

He licked his middle and ring fingers, then dipped them in your essence, feeling the rosé interiors close around him.

There was no pretense, his pulls and pushes were as hot as fire. Raging fire. He gives that coral pink clit, so solitary and vain, the most obscene suckle he could manage. Your composure was wilting. He’s licking, fingering, pulling taut, thrusting deep, making you elementally vulnerable to expanding and contracting. To Megumi, you were sweet succulent fruit and shooting stars.

“Fuck, Megumi— Fuck.” You were slipping up now, the words in your mouth were hoarse. Your legs contract together when you feel his fingers strike a nest of nerves and a deep corner.

Megumi spanned his touch down your shea-buttered back just one more time. He loved the slip. He loved the soothing. He loved the sex.

Megumi laughed as he submerged himself in saturated, vulva flesh. His ultraviolet tongue with dust of gold. “You found your words, princess.”

Megumi knew you always had your guard up, and that you always felt like your emotions had to walk on eggshells. Again, Megumi was always ready to be that place for you to take off the armor, and land and unravel.

Megumi was relentless. Ate some more from those secret lips. Curled his fingers in your honeyed abyss, put his wrist in it. Slapped your ass again ‘cuz he knew you liked it like that. Sweet as fuck— was his sticky, hot whisper. You were craving an orgasm at the core, and were reduced to a lack of self control.

You wondered if your bones should break.

You winced, feeling the rip currents of his desire split through you. “Yes, God, fuck.”

Megumi was a hound of lust, his growls were the lightning and your moans were the thunder.

His hands, slick with shea, dirty with you. He deepens your arch by pressing down on your back. Tongue busy, fingers sodden. “Mhm, that’s my girl. Talk me through it.”

Your mouth, clustered with buttered prose. Your hands twining around the linen. Teeth biting down on the pillow. The tremors make you feel dark and twisted. You’re blending hot curves and mystic chimes of the tongue.

You shrill into the pillow, feeling the chronic ache birth at your spoiled-rotten core, “Megumi! You’re so deep— Oh, God, please.”

He asked, voice grated, "Am I?"

"Yes," You whine, the tension is building pressure inside of your mind. "You are, and I'm on the way."

He knew when it was coming. He watched for your legs to lock like steel. Watched the dark tawny palace between your legs breathe with ready alabaster. Listened to your breath snag with a curse. Observed the convulsion of energy from the zenith of the spine to the nadir of the same.

“Cum for me, angel. I’m a keeper.”

He knew when it was coming. He watched for your legs to lock like steel. Watched the dark tawny palace between your legs breathe with ready alabaster. Listened to your breath snag with a curse. Observed the convulsion of energy from the zenith of the spine to the nadir of the same.

Your chasm drenched and released, flowed with ivory. You dissolve in ripe sounds of delight. You were served to him hot.

There she is, I knew you had it in you, angel, he praises.

You were light and fluffy, he takes your buttery-rich residue, hums when he gets a flavor. Spits between the folds to gather more.

He opens your mouth with his fingers, pushes them down gently.

His brusque instruction. “Suck,” And you do with a soft groan.

His jade eyes contrast with your almond, he deepens his fingers a bit. It makes your stomach crunch

“Atta girl,” Megumi kisses your full lips with care. "Did you enjoy your morning?”

You said, tone ragged from sex. “Yes, I did. Good Lord, can you eat pussy good.”

there it was

the flavor of you still marinating on his tongue

and

the golden threads of light and

the crisp breeze

ruffled amongst the linen and rose petals

lavender candle still sputtering

and creamed, lavish butter

spilled from your sacred canvas

and down your thighs

[mspaintbrush]

Lucio thoughts

Sleeps in a hammock (he needs this weight of sinking into the cloth and the whole thing still moving slightly)

Topless with baggy comfy pants, hair cap to protect braids

Morning routine: wake up, clean face, moisturize skin and hair, trim beard, put hair up, go into kitchen, brew coffee (black, pure, raw energy - Overwatch coffee isnt as strong as the brazilian coffee he is used to, so as a treat he gets some imported), lil bit of breadrolls/toast with butter

Dog person, spoiling Murphy

Still gets along fine with cats though, Mitzi likes to chill in his room (Mitzi lives at the base in my head because yes)

Owns several pairs of heelies

If he doesnt wear skates he wears heelies

Would put rolls on patent shoes to wear with a suit

Skates in the halls and gets flamed by Phara for it (continues to do it, nothing will stop the rio drift)

Would be great at skateboarding but never actually tried it even though its on his bucket list (Genji was a skateboard kid for sure, he would definitely love to teach him)

Can play guitar and ukulele

Strumming a little tune helps him calm down and keep his fingers and head occupied

Regularily carries both his instruments around the base and forgets where they are (lore behind the guitar in helicarrier spawn)

Baggy comfy clothes for the win, comfort over style

Used to casually wear a lot of sports team shirts and still does

Gets cold quickly (brazil curse) so often wearing more layers than others (bro is already complaining at around 25°C/77°F)

Saw snow for the first time in his life just one year ago and still gets all bubbly and excited when Mei tells him its going to be snowing during a mission/at the base

Desperately needs social contact and feels anxiously lonely very quickly

Charges up by being around people and just enjoying their company, even if everyone is kinda doing their own thing

Often hangs around DVa, Bap or Brig since they are very cheerful and fun to be around

They play videogames together (Im sure DVa owns a retro game collection so they play wii sports or guitar hero or smth)

Eats burger with knife and fork and gets laughed at for it

Good cook! Likes veggies :)

Dont look at the state of the kitchen after he is done though

Not the most organized or tidiest person, proud owner of a clothing pile in the corner of his room

That clothing pile is Mitzi's favourite spot

Honestly I see him having his hammock hung up over his normal bed. And he uses the bed as a couch or storage room even when Winston offered him multiple times to take it out of the room.

When you visit his room you just hear "oh wait I'll make some space" and the noise of a bunch of stuff being "moved" to the floor before he offers you to sit on the bed

One of the people you'd hear roaming through the base at 2am looking for food or his guitar he left somewhere

At the same time very concerned about other people's sleep schedule (DVa will not know peace)

Responsible for the music playing during helicarrier flights, master of the aux cord

Custom mixtapes based on destination (he takes it very serious)

Has playlists set up for each Overwatch Agent and carefully builds them up as he tries to figure out everyone's music taste

this started because Reinhardt asked him about David Hasselhoff

not everyone knows about their playlists yet, Lucio himself decides when the time is right to solemnly present it

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

😈 🎂 🎄 ?

Thank you for the ask!

😈 From the next chapter of young blood:

It might be the coward’s way out, but Charles has kept himself busy in the kitchen for the entire visit. They’re going to have to sit down and talk about everything at some point—the pointed looks Mary keeps throwing in his direction make it clear she hasn’t forgotten their phone call yesterday—but first, they’ll eat butter chicken with rice and veggies and pretend that this is just a normal family dinner. If Charles has to use Edwin, Crystal, and Niko as a buffer to make that happen, then so be it. “I’m surprised,” he hears his mum say. “I’ve heard good things about that one.” “I fell asleep reading it,” Edwin says. “It wasn’t half as clever as it thought it was, and the writing was abysmal. But I read another one recently that you might enjoy.”

🎂 From the next chapter of Let's not overanalyze:

“Crystal, you made it!” she hears Maren say behind her and her head whips around. It’s the first time she’s seen Crystal since the night she stayed in Crystal’s guest room, though they’ve texted a lot over the past couple of weeks. She looks less haunted than she did the last time Niko saw her. As she hugs Maren, her eyes meet Niko’s and she smiles. “I like your hair,” Niko says as Crystal approaches. The blond streaks in her hair are now a vivid red. “I needed something different.” Crystal reaches up to run a hand over her curls. “It was time for a change.” “It’s good to see you, Agent Surname-von Hoverkraft,” Edwin says. Crystal rolls her eyes at him. “If you won’t call me Crystal unless we’re running for our lives, just call me Agent Palace. I’m changing my name.” At Niko’s surprised look, she shrugs. “I needed a few changes. And I was getting really fucking tired of that signature.”

🎄 From the holiday fic set in the MSI-verse:

Edwin’s pupils are enormous, his eyes fixed on the blinking lights of Charles’s Christmas jumper with an expression of childlike wonder that Charles has never seen on his partner’s face. When he reaches out to touch one of the little lightbulbs, he actually giggles, swaying towards Charles. Charles catches him by the arms to make sure he doesn’t tip right over, which only makes Edwin giggle harder, his head lolling against Charles’s shoulder. “What’s the matter with him?” Charles asks Thomas, a little frantically. “Oh, I don’t know,” Thomas says. “It looks to me like he has a case of do-I-look-like-a-fucking-doctor-to-you-itis.” Charles glares at him over Edwin’s head. “Maybe it was the eggnog.” “No, Edwin’s not a giggly drunk, he’s more likely to spend an hour telling you about the role werewolves played in the Boer War.” Thomas puts a finger under Edwin’s chin, tilting his face up so he can gaze into Edwin’s eyes. Edwin smiles dopily up at him, an expression that would be bloody adorable if it wasn’t so terrifying. “No, this is some kind of mind fuckery. Probably a spell.”

Make Me Write

[kit-williams]

Hail to the King

For @konigsblog as a thank you for the follow and I guess to what expect of my writings.

tw: this is lewd, delusional König, warhammer 40k shenanigans, König is a Black Templar (see The 40k au for why)((I might try to write another with him as a Blood Angel)) I am shit at trigger warnings

It wasn't his fault that they hadn't kept a better leash on their Schätze. In his defense the chapter serf should have known better and the mortal... well she shouldn't have looked so helpless and cute. Normally he would be thrilled and an honor to join a kill team to slay xenos but this was suppose to be a punishment on learning to not touch what wasn't his.

He walked down the hall of the alien craft chopping down any xeno unfortunate to walk into his path. Most of the Inquisition agents he was around were men... it seems the Inquisitor had been warned about his pecularities.

"You're not suppose to be here." His head snapped over to the voice of a little Maus. He could feel his mouth salivate as the space suit hugged her form in a pleasing way. Oh sure to many baselines she was hardly different from the form of a man but he could see... as well as the custom suit with the symbol of the Inquisition on her front. But the way she was leaning over a console with the curve of her ass just on display.

"Auch, Where am I suppose to be then Maus?" He said annoyed trying to not play his hand but lucky for him his suit hid his eyes from the way they lustfully ran over her body. Though he looked at the bodies of the Xenos littering the room. "You being a little Maus and just coming in after all the fighting is done?"

He could see the pout on the other side of her visor, "Rude. No I cleared the room myself. Oh was a shame that it had to come to blows but then again..." He stopped listening as soon as her hips started to sway with what she was saying. He wanted to dig his fingers into her flesh as his hips moved against hers only hearing her pretty little moans. "Hey big guy!" She finally shouted over the vox.

König resumed paying attention to his Maus. "Ja?"

"Thanks for paying attention...," The sarcasm was obvious in her voice, "anyway. Like I said earlier you're not suppose to be near me and you're suppose to be on the other side of the ship dealing with Xenos."

"The fighting led me this way and given the amount of dead at your feet Maus. You're not exactly alone. It would be a shame if your Inquisitor lost your expertise." He purred out the last few words just buttering her up a little.

"Well... you're not wrong..." He could easily tell she was preening under his complements, "But the Inquisitor said you weren't allowed near female agents or crew members. So be off with you... shoo." She tried her best to wave him off as she turned back to the console.

Konig held a growl in his throat he'd has to teach his Maus manners later. But he was on duty and purging Xenos in the name of the Emperor came first and pleasure later. He started back down the hall before he heard mechanics and her soft little 'Oh hi.' He rushed back as soon as the rapid burst fire rang out and abhorrent xenos cries as he rushed back into the room.

She was in the middle of wrestling one as it was trying to grab her rifle out of her hands. He snarled out as he was upon them in a moment as thick xeno blood painted the walls and her suit as his chainsword ripped through the xeno flesh. Her head turned at the sound of a chime and she grabbed the assumingly heretical technology... then again he wasn't the biggest fan of the Mechanicus and knew Inquisitors tended to flirt with the Dark Mechanicus or heretecks to get better tech.

"Well I'm done here. Thanks again big guy!" She chirped and patted his chest before he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.

"Nein! You'll just find trouble klein Maus. Und how will you get out of trouble all by yourself hmm?" He cocked his head to the side and watched her fold her arms over her chest. He was giddy as she was just the right amount of willful yet submissive. He knew what was for her own good... he had experience and age. She sighed as she settled into his arm holding her without much of a fight.

König knew he could get his hands on a pretty little Maus during his time here.

[ladyxnocturnal]

His Little Sleeper

Leon Kennedy X Fem Reader

Summary:

Leon couldn’t keep you off his mind. You’re his world and light in his life. You haven’t escaped his mind which drove him wild.. even a sinful wild. When he gets home from his long day of working hard on his mission, he wanted to have his way with you to take out his stress and anger in the most sinful way possible.. but you were asleep when he was home, but that didn’t stop his needs and wants, so his little sinful thoughts took control of himself.

Warning: Smut, Sleep Sex, Aggressive sex, Hair Pulling, Degrading, Spanking.

{A/N: I never wrote anything this aggressive in my life- I went all out for this one! Please enjoy! <33}

Leon Kennedy went through hell today on his dreadful mission. The more missions he faced, the more stressful and hard it took a toll on him. He can just never can a break it seems like. He was angry, stressed and wanted it out of his system. But alongside from his anger, he only thought about you during his whole mission. You are the light of his life, his world, his priority, the only person that can make him feel alive. His thoughts were all full of you, anger and stress and his beautiful girl. Oh yes.. his pretty girl. His mind was clouded with so many emotions, Anger, Stress, and now;lust.

He just couldn’t wait to walk in to see you there for him, taking you all for himself. His pretty girl; soft, delicate, a precious treasure he can’t lose or get rid of. Leon wanted to take you already, dicking you down so much until he can hear your cute noises that he caused. It was driving him crazy.

Once he got home, he immediately closed the front door behind him, locking it. A smirk tugged into the corner of his lips. Now on the hunt for his pretty girl he couldn’t get enough of.

He walked into the bedroom and there you lay, sound asleep in your cute nightgown on the bed. His blue eyes scanned your bed from head to toe.

“What a beautiful little angel.”

Leon chuckled lowly to himself, his mind going into places. Your body looked so delicious in your nightgown to this agent. He wanted to take you here, right fucking now. But he hated to disrupt your beauty sleep. He didn’t care though enough.

His strong hands lightly went up your soft thighs, giving them a little squeeze following a little wicked chuckle of his. Leons excitement grew very fast, feeling his pants get too tight around his lower region. A noticeable tent into his jeans that was to the side that hugged his erection. God he grew very impatient by every little moment he’s doing in your sleep. His breathing grew shaky from his excitement, running his hands up your thighs slowly that lifted up the bottom on your nightgown until he saw the fabric of your panties. His smirk grew dark, licking his lips hungry from how beautiful this sight is.

You started to feel your lower half of your body get a little cold, causing you to groan in your sleep from this, Leon stopping his movements for a moment to see if he can get by with this. If he didn’t get away with this, he wouldn’t give two shits anyway.

Leon continued his next move while your body settled down, unzipping his leather jacket to take off his shoulders to throw onto the ground, those dark blue eyes planted onto your sexy body he wanted. His fingers messed with his belt, slipping them through the loops of his jeans, clashing to the floor while undoing his button and zipper.

But he didn’t notice how loud he dropped his belt to the floor which made you move in your sleep with a little grunt, opening your eyes to see what’s going on, rubbing your eyes until you saw your lover undoing his pants in front of you, causing you in shock.

“L-Leon?.. What are you doing?..”

You asked in confusion. That caused Leon to smirk, letting a light low laugh escape under his breath.

“Good morning pretty girl. I wondered when you would wake up.” He said in that low voice of his that could melt butter, even sounding husky.

His pet name he gave you caused you to blush deeply on the horizon of your face.

“What are you doing?.. Another day of stressful work?” You teased playfully but Leon looked serious in his face which immediately made your face to turn a bit nervous but knew what was going to happen which you didn’t mean it one bit, if it was a good way to help him let out his anger and stress, you were up for it no matter what.

“Enough questions pretty girl, you know exactly what I want. So if I were you, I would be a good girl and obey, got it?” His voice was stern, dangerously close to you so his hand was on your neck to force you to look into his deep wicked blue eyes.

You obeyed his word, nodding your head which made Leon smirk.

“Good girl. Now get a move on. Don’t make me fucking wait, or I’ll make things way harder on you, understood?” Leons voice was husky and lower which caused you to lightly shiver from his dominance.

“Yes sir..” You replied, noticing his hand on the back of your head to show he wasn’t messing around. You quickly pulled down his jeans until they were around his ankles that he kicked off to only be in his boxers that show his erection.

Without wasting any time and not wanting ti make him wait, you pulled down his boxers until his throbbing veiny cock was free in front of your face that made you in awe for how hard he is. Glueing your eyes up deeply into Leon’s, you moved your tongue to tease around the tip of his swollen cock that made you a receive a low growl from Leon.

“Fuck..Don’t fucking tease me.” His voice was stern, pulling onto your hair that causes you to whine.

“Try again. Don’t fuck this up this time.”He chuckled with a dark tone, nodding your head as you hollowed your cheeks to finally take Leon into your mouth, bobbing your head slowly to suck him perfectly.

“Oh fuck.. Yeah. Just like that pretty girl.” He let out a loud laugh in amazement, those dark blue eyes staring right down into your eyes to look how pathetic you looked while sucking his cock like this.

Hearing him enjoy this, made you speed up your pace to suck him off to impress him, bracing yourself to show off to deep throat him, gagging you a little.

“Oh.. fuckkk..” Leon growled, clenching his teeth in satisfaction, keeping his eyes down on you, seeing you gag which made him laugh.

“You’re such a fucking slut you know that? Look at you, gagging and drooling all over my fucking cock.” Leon laughed, grabbing a fist full of your hair to bring you closer to take him fully to make you gag over and over, it was music to his ears.

Leon moved his hips to in a face fuck manner, growling and moaning lowly under his breath, even strings of curses.

“You like that huh? You love that way I fuck your mouth with my big cock hm?” He chuckled, his breathing getting shaky from so much pleasures bliss running through his body. He could feel his climax reach which made him to quickly pull out of your mouth, slapping the tip of his cock on your lips and cheek, enjoying every bit of this. The feeling of being in control drove the animal in him.

“Get on the bed, on your knees.” He ordered you to do which you immediately obeyed him, crawling onto the bed on all floors for him. Leon stood behind you to admit the sight he’s seeing, wasting no time to swiftly tear your panties off your body without even caring right now to see your pretty cunt that made his mouth water.

“Now that’s a beautiful sight to see.” He purred into a tease, landing a smack onto your ass that caused you to jump, laughing at your reaction.

“T-Thank you sir..” you managed to reply, Leon admiring how you called him ‘sir’.

“Good girl. Look at you being obedient.” He let out a low laugh, the tip of his cock teasingly run between the trenches of your folds to gather your wetness over his cock, humming at how warm and wet you are for him.

“What a whore, dripping wet for me.” Leon chuckled, bending his body to grip his strong hands gripping into your hips with aggression to bring your ass up in the air for him, his tip deadly at your female flower.

“You better be ready, I’m not going easy on you pretty girl, I’m going to fuck you so hard until you can’t walk for a month.”

Before you could even say anything, Leon pushed with all his strength he had to slam his cock inside your tight walls. You gasped with a scream in shock, your hands gripping so hard into the sheets beneath you that your hands turned pale.

“Leon!!!-“ You yelped out in mercy, really taken back from his aggressive he can be. Leon loved hearing you scream, laughing as he moved his hips to thrust in and out of you in a quick space.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking tight.” Leon clenched his teeth, bucking his hips into you hard and fast to make you scream and moan.

You felt your head go all dizzy already from how aggressive he was inside, basically drilling your insides. Your breathing was heavy, mixing with your loud screaming moans. Leon chuckled under his breath, making sure you can’t squirm away, his grip getting tighter into your hips that could leave bruises.

“You like that huh? You like the feeling of me fucking you stupid huh? Fucking slut, take my cock like a good girl.” Leon growled, landing a harsh slap onto your ass while fucking you silly.

“Leon! Please! It’s too-“

Before you could talk, he made on of his hands wrap around your throat from behind, bringing your body up a bit so he can thrust deeper and harder inside you, leaving you a huge moaning mess, crying out from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

“Shut up and take it slut.” He growled into your ear, his lips leaving kisses into the crook of your neck, biting down and suck to leave his marking in you as he fucked you with all his strength.

The more pleasure he gives you, you are peeking close to your climax. Screaming and moaning in pleasure, your hands were gripping his hair,feeling his strong arm that wrapped around your neck like you were in come choke hold, his veins showing and how his muscles flexed.

“What’s wrong huh? Are you about to cum huh? Cum all over my fucking cock pretty girl.” Leon demanded, feeling his climax right there as well.

You gripped into his strong bicep, screaming and feeling no words can be even made up at this point as you finally reached to your orgasm, moaning loudly as you did so. Leon smirked with satisfaction, pushing your head into the mattress as he picked up his aggressive speed inside you.

“Oh fuckkk.. good girl.” He praised in a low octave in his voice, his breathing getting heavy, cursing under his breath as he finally met with his climax, growling and moaning lowly as he released his load inside you, keeping you close, staring down at you with dominance to challenge you to try and dare to move.

You layed down on the bed defeated, trying to catch your breath to calm your pleasure aftershock. Leon saw how messy you looked underneath him, laughing a bit as he slowly pulled out from inside you.

“Are you okay pretty girl? Did I break you too hard?” Leon chuckled with a playful smirk.

“What do you think?” You laughed with pant.

Leon smiled, feeling very proud of himself for breaking his lovely pretty girl.

“Say.. I could go for another round, you down?” He smirked devilishly.

Your eyes widened, turning your head to him.

“You got to be kidding me…”

END

[twistedhypersonicnavigator]

Day 6: Cooking

The house was quiet, so quiet since he disappeared. Emmets eternal smile seemed so soft, almost non existent.

The halls felt empty, and the room was to clean. Emmet wanted to leave Ingo's room the way it was when he went missing, but he was a bit of a clean freak so he did end up cleaning it. Leaving the tea cup in the window sill that Ingo had forgotten, or the bowl on the night stand just seemed to gross.

At least it smelled better right? It was a plus, but it was one of the only things.

The calendar on the wall looked empty even though their was a train going along the tracks along the silver sands.

Emmet lightly padded into the kitchen and looked at the stove. Should he? It was well known that Emmet was horrible at cooking, more often then not it was Ingo's job to at least make sure they weren't living solely on charcoal.

Slowly Emmet pulled out a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon. He would try, just this once.

Pulling out the ingredients he heeded he began to mix it all together.

"You loved this one." He looked at a picture of his brother across from him. the picture showed one of Ingos very very VERRRRRY rare smiles. A smile he gave just to him.

Nope, no tears now. Right now he had something to do. So he smoothed the butter over the pans and then poured the contents of the bowl into the pan and placed them into the preheated oven and set the timer.

It had been two year snow, two years since his brothers disappearance and Emmet had begun to finally ease into his life without his brother and feeling that he was in fact never coming home.

His therapist told him it was fine to mourn, but heartbreaking to dwell on it.

His fingers circled around the tea cup he had been sipping cold coffee from. Weather he wanted to or not. It was kind of beginning to taste weird. Oh well...

the timer dinged and the he pulled out the pans. Two of them, round, and full of Ingo's favorite chocolate cake. He put the cakes onto separate cooling sheets before going to make the icing.

He had begun to go to the library to read books on baking. It was easier then cooking. Ingo wasn't around to do it anymore for him so he had to do it himself. It had begun to get fun, he and Elesa would share recipes and at one point even had a cookie baking contest for christmas and fed their creations to the agents in the break room. It was at the beginning of his baking so they weren't that good.

Spreading the icing onto the cooled cakes he finished it with a small birthday crumble. Just like Ingo liked it. A small candle on top.

Emmet closed his eyes and wished the same wish he had been doing for the past two years. He wanted his brother back.

Leaning forward he blew out the candle. "Happy Birthday Ingo..." He whispered and sat down to cut the cake. Leaning forward with a spoon full.

the door slammed against the wall. Emmet looked up thinking it was probably Elesa and her trademark birthday crash. Yet there stood Ingo in tattered clothing, and goggles on his face. their was tons of ash along his cheeks, and all over his fingers.

"I...Ingo?" Emmet couldn't believe his eyes.

"Oh this is about to get interesting." Ingo reached out and took his brothers hand and ran with him...