#the team came out and said it wasn't but man
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felassan · 2 days ago
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David Gaider on Alistair, under a cut for length:
"Ah, Alistair. Depending on who you ask, he's the adorable woobie with the biggest heart or the irritating, over-used man-child. Yes, he is indeed all of those things. Good characters have flaws to go with their virtues. Ugly spots. That is literally their humanity. He was a bit of a bear to write, at the outset. James (Ohlen, the first creative director on DAO) had this idea he needed to be a grizzled Warden veteran - older, distrusting. Everyone hated him instantly. I call this the Carth Onasi Problem, and suggested to James that maybe I try something else. My observation says that the characters who are generally liked the most are the supportive ones. Enthusiastic. Funny? Sometimes, sure, but that's *not* required. I need to digress. See, at the time James had this (regrettable) period where he believed everything could be derived from a formula. He even sold this idea to the founders, Ray and Greg. Google 'BioWare formula'. Anyway, how this relates is because James thought the DAO cast needed a Minsc: a comedy character who would become super popular and, ideally, the icon of DA. "Isn't that Alistair?" you ask. "Arguable," I say, "but no." James had me to up a huge list of 'comedic archetypes' and I wrote some possible dialogue for each one. Then he had the team vote. The winning archetype? The Buffoon - like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. James was pleased. I was not. "The problem," I said, "is I don't find the Buffoon funny." 😅"
""But you're a professional." "Sure, I *can* write him... but comedy isn't science. I need to find him funny. If I write him, the only comedy I'll mine is where he makes fun of himself." James took that on board and then passed the character onto someone else. The result? Oghren. I rest my case. So back to the supportive character: that was my thought for a new Alistair. It was a special case, after all - the DAO PC was thrust into a terrible situation. They needed someone who had their back. A bud. A *likeable* bud. I was watching Buffy at the time, and my thoughts drifted towards Xander. Now, I know Joss Whedon is persona non grata these days, but this was 2006, OK? I was watching Buffy and thought, "man, Xander is such a wasted character" and considered how to fix him. Then I realized this might work for Alistair. Plus, I wanted to see if I could replicate the Whedon vocal patter. That was the new Alistair: a more useful and likeable yet equally dorky version of Xander. We had very strict rules in DA about language: no modern speech styles, colloquialisms, any words that came into use in our world after 1900 got severe side eye... but Alistair? Alistair got a blanket pass. Was it great that the lead writer's leading man got to break the rules? I guess not, but it's my opinion that you can break those kinds of rules - selectively, in small doses. Too much and you break the illusion. And it worked. Alistair was an instant hit. Not just with the team, but with the fans."
"Confession time? Yes, I knew Goldanna wasn't meant to be Alistair's mother. But neither was Fiona, originally. I think fans caught wind of some revisionism at work, and OK it's true. I had a more Arthurian idea for his birth but I stopped liking it... yet not soon enough to go back and make edits. Should I have just left it be, left Goldanna as his mother? Maybe. It was one of those writer things I just couldn't let go of and I probably could have used someone to sit me down and go "Gaider, please. Just stop." I still like Fiona, and where I took it. But I probably shouldn't have gone there. Casting Alistair was SUCH a chore. He required a weird mix of devilish charm, but with enough sincerity and adorkableness it didn't come off as smarmy. Every audition went full smarm... until Steve Valentine up and appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of a batch of audition files, there he was. We brought Steve in "just to try out", and he pulled it off. Even the "frog time" line, which (seriously) nobody else could. And when he got to the romantic lines, Steve's voice turned into pure butter without, again, sliding into "oh, he's slightly creepy". Both Caroline and I were sold. And he was so gloriously easy to write. It's a well I'd probably return to... a bit too often, maybe? Maric, then Anders in Awakening, and then Alistair kept popping up in future games and the comics because, yes, he was pretty much the breakout comedy character of DA. Which still makes me happy. 😁 CORRECTION: Goldanna was someone Alistair thought was his *sister*, and her mother his mother. Look, it was almost twenty years ago, OK? 😅 --- I actually had a whole scene written in DAI where Fiona tells him, but the requirements were so specific for them both to be in Skyhold and it seemed like it'd be relevant only to a small small sub-section of fans (and confusing to everyone else) so it was dropped. Rightfully so, I guess."
[source thread]
User: "The Buffy vibes were strong in DAO and I was very happy with that at the time. What I loved about DAO was the mix of dark themes entwined with bits of levity. That's how I like my angst. Dark, broody with a side of ha-has and y'all delivered in DAO for sure." David Gaider: "That's a me thing. I like going dark - really dark - and then pairing it with light, comedic moments. It provides peaks and valleys in the tone, and prevents either from becoming overwhelming. Hey if it worked for Shakespeare (alas, poor Yorrick), it can work for DA, right? 😉" [source]
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mivalyn · 3 days ago
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♡ His to command ♡
18+, mdni!
König x fem!reader (contains smut)
Word count: 1,912
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You had quickly made a name for yourself in KorTac, your sniper skills earning the respect of even the most seasoned operatives. Precision, discipline, and a cool head under presure were your trademarks. You prided yourself on keeping things professional, always putting the mission first. Yet, there was one man who consistently disrupted your focus - König.
König was unlike anyone you´d ever worked with. Tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding a quiet authority, his commanding presence made it impossible to ignore him. With every step he took, the room seemed to shrink around him. His voice, deep and resonant, always carried the weight of someone used to giving orders. Oftel laced with a heavy German accent, his words carried an edge that made everything he said feel more pointed, more deliberate.
While the others in the team found him intimidating, you felt something else entirely: intrigue. He wasn't just a leader in the field-he was something more, someone who commanded not only respect but curiosity. And your curiosity had grown over the past few months of working with him. Your interactions started out as professional, respectful nods exchanged after successful missions, but over time, your conversations became more personal. It was in the way König would offer you his thoughts after missions - his sharp, almost clinical perspective softened by quiet moments of humor.
And then there was the way he looked at you. A glance that seemed to last just a moment too long. And his protection - always keeping an eye on you, his movements always ensuring your safety, even when you didn't need it. The gesture had started to feel personal, not just professional. It was a subtle kind of dominance, gentle yet commanding, and it made your pulse quicken whenever he was near.
It had been building for weeks. The unspoken tension between you and him, simmering just below the surface, was becoming impossible to ignore. Tonight, it would finally reach its breaking point.
───────────────────────────────────────────
You lay stretched out on your bed, the rare quiet of your quarters enveloping you. A book rested on your lap, though your attention kept drifting away from the pages. It was a luxury to have a day off - free from missions and responsibilities, and you intended to enjoy it. For once, there were no gunfire or the constant hum of tactical planning. Just peace.
That peace was abruptly shattered when your door swung open, and you looked up, startled, to see König standing in the doorway. His posture was stiff, as if he had just walked off the battlefield. He was still dressed in his combat gear, his gloves in one hand, his rifle slung across his back. His expression was grim, jaw clenched, and his normally composed demeanor was frayed, something darker simmering beneath the surface.
"König?" you asked, sitting up, your book forgotten.
He didn't respond at first. The door clicked shut behind him, and the heavy thud of his boots echoed through the room as he crossed toward you. Without a word, he dropped his gear in a pile against the wall. The action was deliberate, as though he had purposefully entered with an urgency that could not be ignored.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, a silent sigh escaping from his lips. His broad shoulders were tense, and you noticed the subtle shift in his stance - the subtle power that radiated from him as he stood in front of you.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low, rough around the edges. "Komm her, Liebling." The words slipped from his lips like velvet, yet the command behind them was unmistakable.
The effect of hearing the German endearment sent a thrill through you, your heart skipping a beat. You hesitated only for a moment, before rising from the bed to approach him.
As you came within reach, König´s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with surprising gentleness for a man of his size and strength. But there was no mistaking the force in his pull as he yanked you closer, his chest pressing against yours. His lips crashed onto yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was fierce, raw, and possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. It was as if he had been holding back for far too long, and now he couldn't stop.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was heavy against your skin. His lips hovered near your ear as he whispered, the words thick with his accent. "Ich brauche dich, Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough, filled with hunger. "I can't wait any longer."
The rawness of his words sent a jolt of heat through your veins. But you didn't flinch. Instead, your lips curled into a confident smile. "Then don't," you whispered back, your voice steady but laden with anticipation.
König´s eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as his hands moved with purpose. In one fluid motion, he shoved you backward onto the bed, his powerful frame pinning you beneath him. His hands were all over you, sliding under your shirt, pulling it off with quick efficiency, as though time were suddenly a luxury you couldn't afford.
"You drive me verrückt," he growled, his German accent thick as he straddled you. "Do you know that?"
You let out a low laugh, your hands sliding over his muscular chest. "I might have an idea," you teased, a glint of mischief in your eyes.
King smirked darkly, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Freches Mädchen," he muttered, his voice both scolding and affectionate.
His movements were slow, deliberate, savoring each inch of skin as he revealed you, inch by inch. When you were completely bare before him, he paused for a moment, his gaze scanning your body with a reverence that made you shiver.
"So schön," he murmured, his voice low with awe. The words sounded like a prayer as they slipped from his lips, his German accent making them sound even more intimate.
You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Then show me," you challenged, your voice sultry, daring him.
His eyes darkened, a predatory smirk curling at the corner of his lips. "Oh, Liebling," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, this time slower, deeper. "I'll do much more than show you."
His hands moved between your thighs, finding you already wet with anticipation. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his fingers circled you, his touch skilled, deliberate. "So eager for me already," he whispered, his accent making the words drip with dark promise.
Your breath caught as his fingers slipped inside you, the sensation sending a ripple of pleasure through your body. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "Let me hear you."
His pace quickened, and soon you were arching your back, your body responding to his touch in ways that left you breathless. When you finally came, it was like a tidal wave crashing over you, and you trembled beneath him as you tried to regain control.
König removed his fingers slowly, bringing them to his lips and savoring the taste. "You taste so damn good," he groaned. But he wasn't finished. He lowered himself between you legs, his mouth following his hands as he tasted you. His tongue worked over you with precise skill, each stroke drawing another breathless cry from your lips.
"König," you gasped, your fingers threading into his hair as your body tensed with another approaching orgasm.
When he rose again, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes were dark with desire. "Are you ready for me, mein Schatz?" he asked, his voice thick with longing.
Your lips curled into a sultry smile. "Always," you whispered.
Without another word, König positioned himself between your thighs, his cock hard and ready, and with one swift motion, he entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, the sheer force of his thrust stealing your breath. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, each thrust deep and purposeful.
"Verdammt," King growled, his hips slamming into yours. "You feel so good, Y/N. So perfect."
Every inch of him seemed to claim you, and your body responded eagerly to his touch. The room was filled with the sound of your bodies colliding, the rhythm of your coupling synchronized with the primal energy between you.
As his hand slid lower, teasing the sensitive ring of your ass, you gasped. "Do you like that, Liebling?" he teased, his voice dark and full of intent.
"Yes," you moaned, your body trembling with each motion.
King smirked, pressing a finger against your tight entrance before easing it inside. The sensation of dual penetration was overwhelming, and you cried out, your body writhing beneath him as you teetered on the edge.
"I will claim every inch of you today," King whispered in your ear, his voice a growl of need.
The intensity of his words sent a shiver of anticipation through you, and you surrendered completely, your body on fire as he took you to new heights.
Hours passed, the night stretching on as King kept his promise, exploring every part of you with unrelenting passion. When you finally collapsed together, your bodies slick with sweat and your breaths coming in heavy, uneven gasps, you felt a profound sense of exhaustion, mixed with the deep satisfaction of a night unlike any other. Your body ached in the best way possible, each muscle pleasantly sore from the intensity of their connection. You could barely move, but there was something about being in König's arms that made you feel safe, as if nothing else mattered in the world.
König, too, seemed spent, his chest rising and falling with each breath, but he didn't let go of you. He pulled you into his arms, his large hand stroking your back with a tenderness that contrasted with the force of your lovemaking just moments before. You nestled closer to him, yourr head resting against his broad chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. The comfort of his presence enveloped you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.
His voice, still deep and resonant, broke the silence. "You're mine," he whispered softly, the words a quiet declaration, though the possessiveness in them was unmistakable. "Mein Schatz."
You smiled against his skin, your hand tracing patterns on his chest as you looked up at him. You could feel the weight of his words, the depth of his feelings wrapped in the simple phrase. "Always," you whispered, your voice full of warmth, you fingers gently tracing the curve of his jaw.
The bond you shared felt irrevocable now, something solid and unbreakable. In the stillness of the room, you found yourself wrapped in his strength, not just physically but emotionally. It was a rare feeling for someone like you - so used to being in control, to relying only on yourself - but with him, you didn't need to be anything but yoursel. You were no longer just an operative in a world of danger; you were his, and he was yours.
You both lay there for a long while, basking in the afterglow, the world outside fading into insignificance. Even in the quiet, You knew that nothing would ever be the same again between you. This was more than a moment of passion - it was a shift in your relationship, one that went beyond the mission and the shared battlefield.
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sillimancer · 14 days ago
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if I ever get a job or successfully manage to donate plasma again the first thing I'm buying is a bowl of pho tai with extra meat and the second thing I'm buying is Age of Mythology: Retold
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navybrat817 · 2 months ago
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Vanilla Frosting
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Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.
A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”
Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.
Some sort of trouble.
As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.
“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.
“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.
He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.
The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.
“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”
Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.
“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.
“Love you, too!” You called back.
That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-
“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”
Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?
He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.
“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”
He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?
Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.
But you didn't go to him.
Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.
Yep, he was in big trouble.
Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.
Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.
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Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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devilishcupid · 1 year ago
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CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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werecreature-addicted · 3 months ago
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Have you ever written about an amnesiac werewolf? Like the reader finds a poor lost soul in the forest and takes them in, unknowingly dooming herself to becoming a breeding pet when the moon strikes and his instincts take over? He doesn't know what's come over him. He really doesn't. :'(
TW: car accidents. dubcon. do i know anything about hospitals? no. shhh. enjoy the werewolf porn.
You've grown quite attached to John Doe. He came in three days ago, he'd been "found" naked wandering a forest road at night and gotten cleaned out by a driver in a pickup truck. The driver said he thought he hit a dog or a deer that had wandered onto the road and was horrified to see a man there instead lying bloody on the asphalt.
Despite how bad John Doe looked when he was wheeled into your clinic, he'd been recovering quite nicely. He was even conscious now although he didn't seem to remember anything from before the accident. That coupled with the fact that he was found naked in the woods, it was proving difficult to contact any friends or family who might be able to give a concrete identity.
You weren't too worried though. It was a small community, and you were sure someone who knew him would turn up eventually. As for you, this was a slow time of year for a humble trauma center doctor, you were able to spend lots of time with your favorite amnesiac. It was a little miraculous really how well he was recovering everything but his memory. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was supernatural.
You found yourself spending more and more time with your John Doe, he was sweet and funny, Not to mention he was very attractive, even bloody and bruised. Although the budding warmth you felt for him was tainted slightly both by the fact that he was your patient and the nagging worry in the back of your head that this wasn't the real him. This could all be a false personality that he would lose once he got his memories back.
You'd already started toying with a daydream where once recovered John Doe would still come by to visit you. You shake your head and try to dispel those fantasies from your mind. You mentally chided yourself, you weren't a teenager with a crush you should be handling yourself more professionally than this. Still, your heart raced when he smiled at you.
In the end, it wasn't a friend or family member who revealed who John Doe really was, but it was the summer rain. You were just about to leave for the night when you started getting phone calls. A bad storm was coming in and soon it wouldn't be safe to drive on the largely dirt roads in this town, no one would be coming up to fill in the night shift. You could make it home safe if you left now. But that would mean abandoning your patient and you couldn't do that. So instead you just sighed and hunkered down preparing to wait out the storm inside the hospital.
John Doe was more than happy to have your company- he liked you better than any of the overnight team anyway, and over the past day he'd begun to feel strange. Not in pain just energized in a usual way. there was a tingling sensation just below his skin, he felt hungry but not for food. He couldn't really put a name to the strange pressure in his body, he only knew that it was growing and it made him want to keep you close.
You were in the break room when it happened. You were trying to figure something out for dinner which was hard with only vending machine options available when lightning strikes and the lights die. you hesitate, waiting for backup generators but only the red EXIT lights stay on, casting an eerie red glow to the room. You were just starting to pull open cabinets looking for a flashlight when you heard a loud crash and what sounded like an animal growl. Your heart stops and before you can think you're running toward the sound relying on muscle memory to navigate the darkened halls.
You freeze seeing the hulking form of a wolf over the tipped-over bed of John Doe. How the hell did a wolf get in here? And alone. Even panicked you know something isn't right. Wolves don't come this close to humans, they don't attack humans and they never ever do it alone. Then the wolf looks at you and stands on its hind legs and you realize it's not a wolf but a monster.
Your hands tremble, you should run- call the sheriff- search the lost and found for a gun and shoot the damn thing. But you can't bring yourself to run. The creature in front of you is awe-inspiring despite your fear, you're curious. Then the monster moves and the interest vanishes. Again your body moves before your brain can think you turn and run. You don't look behind as you run but you can hear the beast howl and the solid thud thud thud as it chases after you.
It's a small emergency room, you know there's nowhere to hide unless the werewolf can read and respect "staff only" signs. You feel a large clawed hand wrap around your waist your legs are still kicking trying to run as you're lifted in the air by the monster.
"You took such good care of me...now let me take care of you, sweet mate," the werewolf growls in your ear, turning you to face him, forcing you to look at his hulking monstrous form. You struggle futilely in his grasp he's strong and you can see his muscles bulge under his dark black fur. Lightning strikes again illuminating his sharp white teeth and his bright hungry eyes.
It takes you a moment to catch up to the fact that 1. The werewolf had spoken and 2. That he had promised to "take care of you". Before you can catch your breath let alone ask what that meant he's shoving you down onto the cold linoleum floor, shredding your pants with one clawed hand and the other he presses down hard on your back in between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the floor. You can feel his warm breath on your exposed skin as he huffs your scent. you can't see him but you know he's drooling. The attention makes you tremble, and then he pushes his thick rough tongue against your body and you moan. His tongue is thick and wet against your trembling cunt. He can't keep his hands to himself, his clawed hand wraps around your breast squeezing as he pulls you back against his hungry lapping mouth.
You can't keep your moans to yourself. The little cries of pleasure slip from your mouth only making the beast more aggressive as he eats you out. Eventually, you give up trying to even hold back the sounds or pretend that you aren't enjoying the ravishment.
It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, he doesn't pull away when you reach your peak. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you savoring the flavor of your cum and the fact that he had successfully pulled an orgasm from you just like he'd promised. His tail wags as he cleans you up, then you start getting wet again and he's not cleaning you up as much as he is eating you out again. His cock hangs heavy between his legs too big and thick for his erection to lift so it just throbs with need and drips thick beads of precum onto the clean floor.
He can't quite decide what he needs more, to jerk himself off or to keep both his hands on you. Eventually, his own ache can't be ignored and he starts to jerk himself off. it doesn't take long for him to cum the sweet flood of your cum just drives him insane. his knot swells pitifully as his semen splatters against your legs and ass dripping down to your pussy. two of his clawed fingers scoop up some of his spilled seed and push it inside of you.
"Next time I cum tonight it's going to be inside of you." It sounds like a threat, you can't wait.
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theminecraftbee · 10 months ago
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"So, and I can't believe I have to be the guy to point this out," Doc starts hesitantly.
"Terrible start! Go on," Cleo says.
"But you seem to be one of the only sane people left right now," Doc continues.
"Even more terrible, although I appreciate your delusion," Cleo says.
"And I have to--you know, if you're going to make fun of me for bringing you a problem maybe I just won't. I can solve it myself. I basically solved the moon thing myself," Doc says. "I am trying to be responsible before this turns into a whole thing."
"Doc, you came to me. Did you want anything that wasn't me making fun of you? Because you know, if so, I really feel bad for you. I already feel bad enough for you that you think you actually managed to do anything at all about the moon thing."
Doc throws his hands up. "I am trying to warn you the ocean is evil! It's important! This is important!"
"The deep sea being evil isn't new," Cleo starts, "I was building Atlantis last season--"
"It sent, sent, salmon people to kill me!"
Cleo stops. They look Doc in the eyes. They search for any signs of deception at all. It's a little hard to tell, on account of Doc only having one eye even capable of expressiveness, and his face being the opposite of human, but...
"What?" Cleo says dumbly.
"It was like, like, Beef and Skizz, they were crazy! They were talking about a giant fish and how I shouldn't defy it. And I was like, what is a Big Salmon? I don't know, man, but they're ocean mobsters. And then I started looking. It's not just them. It's not just them Cleo, it's everyone. The ocean, man, it's evil, it's getting everyone. I've, I've made a list. Grian. Have you looked at Grian lately?"
"I think if we were worried about every time Grian got possessed then we wouldn't have any free time," Cleo says hesitantly.
"Right, right, but it was supposed to be Demise. The killing each other, all of the killing each other. I thought, oh, that'll get it out of their systems. But it's not just him Cleo! It's--have you seen Gem? She's all, oh, I will build a boat. Oh, I'll provoke the creatures of the deep. And then. Do you know what I saw all of Team ZITS doing? Fishing!"
"Doc," Cleo says, increasingly concerned for him. He looks... disheveled.
"And not just fishing, oh no. They were standing in the water fishing! And Pearl! Have I mentioned that Pearl is dressing up as a salmon? I mentioned that, yes? The salmon Pearl?"
"You hadn't, unless that was the big fish thing," Cleo says.
"No, that was something different, I think Pearl is maybe a different salmon."
"Sure, okay, more than one salmon, that makes sense," Cleo says dryly.
"And everyone, they are fishing each other around the ocean, yes? Etho is in the ocean! XB is in the ocean! I think I saw Joe crawl out of the ocean earlier, he was all wet and haunted! Surely that is a sign the ocean is evil."
"No, he's just like that," Cleo says. "Also, I did the fishing rod thing too. I think it's just... normal fun."
"They're getting you too. My assessment that you're the sane one. I've said too much."
"I think you need sleep," Cleo says. "Doc, there isn't an ocean-based conspiracy. It's the start of the season. You know we're just like this."
"That's the thing, I can't sleep," Doc says. "I can't. I sleep and I see it. I see it, lurking beneath the waves. It's calling for me Cleo. It's calling. And when it calls, it seems so--kind. But then. But then! I wake up, and I remember the shape of it, and..."
Doc shudders and stops talking. Cleo looks at him a moment longer and then, like comforting a nervous animal, takes his shoulder.
"You should take a nap. It's the start of the season. You're over-stressing yourself. Too much too fast?" they say, as soothingly as possible.
"It's coming for us," Doc says. "It's coming. I don't want to ignore it this time, yes? What's coming for us. We should--we should--"
"Even if it is, Doc, I don't think we can fight the ocean. Come on. Maybe sleeping in my base will help reset your brain."
Doc shudders, but lets Cleo guide him inside. They watch until at last he falls asleep fitfully before shaking their head and sighing.
"A giant fish that was trying to kill him. Honestly. I don't know where he gets these things from. Always a conspiracy with him..."
They decide to go to Ren. Ren knows how to humor Doc. Surely they can get in their ridiculous games again, and Doc will forget all about this. Doc would enjoy the Ministry of Ministries. Maybe he can be an anarchist or something. That would be good for him.
Doc cries out in his sleep. Cleo turns to him.
Then again, they have this strange sinking feeling in their stomach. Doc's... awfully worked up.
But it's Doc.
Surely it's nothing.
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hoe4hotchner · 9 days ago
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Hiii!! Could you do another non bau rich fem!reader where she gave Aaron lots of designer stuff and he starts wearing them to work? Like maybe ties, cuff links, and like an LV duffel bag and the team is just like “??? Woah dude where’d you get that??”
Subtle flex | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x rich fem!reader| WC: 0.9k | CW: nothing
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Aaron Hotchner was usually not one for excess. His wardrobe was practical and professional, his tastes minimalistic, and his life, outside of Jack, revolved around efficiency and exuding authority on the job. Sure he had splurged occasionally on a stray high-quality tie here and there as well as his Rolex watch. At least that was until you entered his life.  
The first gift was a tie — a deep navy one in silk with subtle pinstripes. It came in a sleek wrapped box with some designer brand he had never even heard of before. You’d handed it to him with a casual smile, brushing off his initial protests with a light, “Aaron, I saw it and thought of you. Let me spoil you for once.”  
He wore it the next day, paired with his standard black suit, and noticed how it caught the light in the mirror. “Looks good,” he muttered to himself, brushing his hand over it. As hesitant as he had been to accept it, he was thankful for the present and happy that you'd chosen one that wasn't smothered in logos or brand names.
Then came the cuff links. They were sterling silver and engraved with his initials. He opened the box late one evening after you handed it to him over dinner. “You didn’t have to,” he said softly, though his smile betrayed how much he loved them.  
“Of course, I didn’t have to,” you replied, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “But you deserve nice things, Aaron. You do so much good without even expecting a thanks.”  
And so it continued. A Louis Vuitton duffel bag for his work trips, a black leather wallet that somehow managed to look even more professional than the one he’d carried for years, and a collection of even more ties that were understated yet undeniably luxurious and seemed to multiply in his closet every so often.  
At first, he rotated the items slowly into his everyday wardrobe, unsure if they would draw attention. But one particularly chaotic morning, he grabbed the LV duffel, clipped on the cuff links, and shrugged into a jacket before heading into the office having gotten an urgent notification for a case.  
It didn’t take long for the team to notice.  
“Uh… Hotch?” Morgan’s voice cut through the usual buzz in the conference room as Hotch entered. “Is that a Louis Vuitton bag you’re carrying?”  
Hotch glanced at him briefly, setting the duffel down by the door before striding towards the front of the room to grab the file Garcia was holding outstretched for him. “Yes. Why?”  
Morgan blinked. “Why? Man, you’ve been holding out on us. Since when do you roll up looking like you just stepped out of GQ Magazine?”  
Emily leaned back in her chair, eyebrows raised. “Is that a new tie, too? That’s at least Tom Ford.”  
Hotch adjusted his tie instinctively. “It’s not. It’s Brioni.”  
“Oh, excuse us,” JJ chimed in throwing her hands up and exchanging an amused glance with Emily.  
“I’m sorry,” Spencer Reid piped up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Are those cuff links monogrammed?”  
“Okay, seriously,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “What’s going on, Hotch? You win the lottery or something? Cause if your salary is high enough for those purchases Imma have to talk to Strauss about a raise.”  
Hotch, shrugged lightly as he opened his case file. “No. My girlfriend has… a habit of giving gifts.”  
The room fell silent for a beat before Emily’s jaw dropped. “Wait, girlfriend? You’ve been holding out on us in more ways than one!”
"Who is she I need details," Garcia cut into the conversation, her excitement starting to bubble over.
JJ smirked. “Are you telling me she just gives you designer gifts casually? I agree with Garcia, who is this woman?”  
Hotch allowed himself the smallest of smiles as he glanced up from his paperwork. “Someone who insists I deserve the finer things.”  
“Damn,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head. “Where can I find one of those?”  
“Maybe start with charm school,” Emily teased.  
As the team bantered, Hotch’s phone buzzed on his desk. A message from you:  
Miss you already. Hope you’re putting the cuff links to good use. Dinner at my place when you get back?
He smiled quickly at his phone before typing back a quick reply.  
Always. I’ll bring the wine.  
When he looked up, the team was staring at him, curious. “What?” he asked, his tone amused, knowing fully well that they wouldn't stop bothering him about you until he eventually agreed to let them meet you.  
“Nothing,” Emily said, though her grin suggested otherwise. “Just trying to imagine Aaron Hotchner in love with a rich fashionista.”  
“Not just a fashionista,” Morgan added, gesturing toward the duffel. “An angel sent from the heavens, apparently.”  
Hotch shook his head, lifting his file up in the air in a quick and smooth motion as if to remind them why they were there. “Focus, everyone. We have a case.”  
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A few days later, when you saw Aaron again, he mentioned the team’s reaction with a mix of exasperation and amusement.  
“I think they’re more interested in my wardrobe than the case,” he said, loosening his tie as he sat beside you on the couch.  
You laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Let them wonder. They’ll get used to it eventually.”  
“I’m not sure they ever will,” he muttered, leaning into your touch.  
“Good,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him. “I like keeping them on their toes.”  
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artemismoorea03 · 1 year ago
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DP x DC Prompt Idea: Dangerous
Cassandra's main thing is being able to read and understand body language. Yeah, to a degree all of the Bats possess this skill but Cassandra takes it to a whole new level. Nobody is better at it than she is.
In a way she sometimes reminded herself of a machine the way the information filtered into her brain. The way it categorized each and every person she came across. On the street, in her house, even in the mirror. Everybody had something.
So to come across a person who outwardly looked normal on the outside that she couldn't read she didn't understand. Yes, he has data but the data isn't making any sense!
He's just sitting there texting on his phone, chuckling harmlessly.
Yet every instinct in her body and everything 'harmless' that he was doing was a red flag. It was strange and wrong. But the biggest problem is that she couldn't even identify what about him was so dangerous.
Texting Somebody: Dangerous.
Laughing: Dangerous.
Relaxed Posture: Dangerous.
He wasn't even looking around! He was completely drawn in by whatever was on his phone, having absolutely no care in the world as the bus continued and this kid - who was probably no older than 14 - was just texting away.
It wasn't until the bus suddenly screeched to a halt and the doors were smashed open by some low legal thugs that those signals made sense. They made sense because while everybody else complied with the commands of the men - even Cassandra who might have alerted Oracle before she got to her knees on the floor.
Yet this kid stayed in one place.
"Didn't you hear what I said, kid!? Get on the damn floor!"
The kid didn't even look up before he reacted.
The once non-existent tension in his body changed with no outward sign as he shoved himself forward, shoving the barrel of the gun upwards before punching the man in the jaw so hard that Cass heard it snap out of place as he was thrown backwards against a bar in the bus aisle and dented it. The other two men who were in on the attack were caught off guard as this kid flipped the safety on the gun locking it and in the same fluid motion threw the gun at one of the men, smacking him square in the forehead.
Cassandra was still wrapping her mind around this reckless action before the kid pulled another, rushing towards the final man, grabbing another one of the aisle bars and swinging himself, kicking him in the chest and knocking him right back out the door they'd entered through. The gun went off as it was dropped, but all three men were disarmed and the kid picked up the guns. Dropped the clips into his hand, emptied the chamber then discarded them on one side of the bus before he simply tossed the clips out the nearest window, the clips slipping directly into a drain without any bit of aim.
"What the hell are you, kid?" Groaned the first man, "A bat?"
"Bat? No way, man. Anyways, thanks for the lift Mr. Bus Driver." The kid then promptly walked out of the door, jumped over the man on the ground and made his way down the street.
Cass couldn't wrap her mind what just happened but she understood the warnings.
That kid was dangerous.
She had to get him on the team.
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aceyalonso · 2 months ago
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what's mine is mine - OSCAR PIASTRI
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pairing : oscar piastri x reporter!gf!reader
summary : oscar and his jealous tendencies can lead to some... eventful consequences
warnings/notes : swearing, smut, possessive!oscar, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), creampie, fingering, hair pulling, oral (fem!receiving), breeding kink (if you squint), use of "baby"
word count : 2.0k
a/n : no hate to franco guys, I love that man with a passion
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist
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Y/n stood in the paddock, her hair blowing in the wind as she interviewed the new driver, Franco. Her boyfriend, Oscar, watched from afar, his jaw clenched in jealousy as he saw Franco place a hand on Y/n's lower back.
"So Franco, how do you think this weekend will go for Williams? Especially with points being in arms reach considering last race" Y/n asked professionally, holding her microphone up to capture his response.
Franco grinned charmingly at the camera. "It seems like it'll be a pretty good weekend for the team- Hopefully we can score some points this time. I can't wait to prove myself out on the track." His eyes flicked to Y/n, a flirtatious glint in them. "And of course, having such a gorgeous reporter to interview me is just an added bonus."
Y/n laughed lightly, used to the flirtations that came with her job. "Well, let's hope your driving skills are as smooth as your lines, Franco." She smiled playfully before wrapping up the interview.
As Y/n finished up with Franco, she turned to see Oscar striding purposefully towards her, his handsome face etched with a scowl. He placed a possessive hand on the small of her back as he approached.
"Everything okay here, babe?" Oscar asked, his tone clipped. His eyes darted to Franco suspiciously.
Y/n smiled reassuringly up at her boyfriend. "Of course, he was just being friendly for the interview."
But Oscar wasn't convinced. He pulled Y/n closer to his side, his grip tightening slightly. "It seemed like more than that to me. The guy couldn't keep his eyes, or his hands, off you."
Y/n sighed, knowing Oscar could be overly protective at times. "Oscar, please, it's my job to interview the drivers."
Oscar's jaw relaxed a bit at her words, but he still looked unsettled as he watched Franco walk away. "I just don't like the way he was looking at you. Like he wanted to devour you right there in the paddock."
Y/n rolled her eyes at Oscar's possessiveness. "Come on, let's go back to your drivers' room. I'm sure you're eager to get ready for practice."
She took his hand and led him away from the paddock, leaving Franco behind. As they walked, Oscar's grip on her hand tightened, his jealousy still simmering beneath the surface.
As soon as the door to Oscar's private drivers' room closed behind them, he pushed Y/n up against the wall, his body pressing against hers. "I can't stand seeing other men flirt with you," he growled, his lips crashing into hers in a heated kiss.
Y/n gasped into his mouth, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders. She kissed him back fiercely, matching his intensity. Oscar's hands roamed her curves possessively, one sliding down to grab her ass.
He broke the kiss, panting softly. "You're mine, Y/n. I don't want anyone else even looking at you like that." His eyes burned into hers, filled with lust and a hint of anger.
Oscar's hands continued to explore Y/n's body, his touch growing more aggressive. "I bet that Franco can't even make you cum," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "He probably doesn't even know how to touch a woman properly."
Y/n moaned softly as Oscar's fingers found her sensitive spots, teasing her through her clothes. "You're right," she breathed, arching into his touch. "No one can make me feel as good as you can, Oscar."
He smirked, pleased by her response. "And I don't have to be inside you to make you feel good," he said, his fingers working their magic. "I know your body better than anyone, and I can make you cum with just my hands."
Oscar's words were true, and Y/n knew it. She had never experienced pleasure quite like she did when she was with him. As his skilled fingers continued to work their magic, she felt herself getting closer to the edge, her body trembling with anticipation.
Oscar suddenly stopped his ministrations, leaving Y/n panting and desperate for more. He grabbed her hand and led her to the couch, sitting her down before kneeling in front of her. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he slowly hiked up her dress, exposing her lacy panties.
"These look so pretty on you," he purred, running his fingers along the delicate fabric. "But I think they'd look even better in my pocket."
With that, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled her panties down, revealing her glistening folds. Y/n gasped as the cool air hit her sensitive skin, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and arousal. Oscar took the panties and slipped them into his pocket, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"I'll keep these with me for the entire day," he said, his voice low and seductive. "That way, I can show these off Franco. I'll show that fucker who you belong to."
Y/n's heart raced at the thought of Oscar showing her panties to Franco. The idea of being claimed so boldly sent a thrill through her body. She spread her legs wider, inviting him to continue his exploration.
Oscar leaned in, his breath hot against her skin as he traced his fingers along her slick folds. "You're so wet for me already," he murmured, his fingers circling her clit. "I love how responsive you are."
Y/n moaned softly, her hips bucking against his hand. "Please, Oscar," she begged, her voice husky with desire. "I need more."
He obliged, slipping two fingers inside her, pumping them slowly at first before picking up the pace. His thumb pressed against her clit, rubbing in tight circles. Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with pleasure.
"That's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, his fingers moving faster. "Let me hear you. Show me how much you love this."
Y/n's moans grew louder and more urgent as Oscar's fingers worked their magic inside her. Her back arched off the couch, her nails digging into the leather cushions. "Oh god, Oscar," she cried out, her hips rocking against his hand. "Don't stop, please don't stop,"
Oscar smirked, enjoying the way she was coming undone beneath his touch. He curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her see stars. "You like that, don't you?" he purred, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. "You love the way I make you feel."
Y/n could only nod, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her thighs began to tremble, her body tensing as she neared her peak. "I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Oscar, make me cum."
Oscar could feel Y/n's body tensing, her moans growing more desperate. He knew she was close, and he wanted nothing more than to push her over the edge. He increased the speed of his fingers, his thumb working her clit relentlessly.
"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and husky. "Let go for me. Cum all over my fingers."
Y/n's body stiffened, her back arching off the couch as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She cried out Oscar's name, her body shaking with the force of her release. Oscar continued to stroke her through her climax, drawing out her pleasure until she collapsed back onto the couch, spent and breathless.
He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. "You taste amazing," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "I could do this all day."
Y/n lay there panting, her body still tingling from the intense orgasm. She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Oscar moved between her legs, his face mere inches from her sensitive core. He smiled up at her, his eyes filled with hunger.
"I'm not done with you yet," he said, his voice low and seductive. "I want to taste you."
With that, he leaned in and ran his tongue along her slit, making Y/n gasp. He explored her folds with his tongue, lapping up her juices and savoring her flavor. Y/n's hands flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as he worked her over with his mouth.
Oscar's tongue was relentless, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against her clit. He brought a hand up to join his mouth, two fingers sliding easily into her wet heat. Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against his face as he brought her closer to another peak.
Y/n's moans grew more desperate as Oscar's tongue and fingers worked their magic. She could feel another orgasm building, but she needed more. She needed him inside her.
"Oscar, please," she begged, her voice husky with desire. "I need you inside me. I can't take it anymore."
Oscar looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. He could see the need in her eyes, and it only fueled his own desire. He rose to his feet, quickly unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down. His erection sprang free, hard and ready.
He positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance. "Is this what you want, baby?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "You want me to fill you up?"
Y/n nodded frantically, her hips lifting off the couch in anticipation. "Yes, please," she whimpered. "I need you so badly."
Oscar didn't need to be told twice. He thrust his hips forward, burying himself deep inside Y/n's wet heat. They both moaned at the sensation, their bodies fitting together perfectly. He started to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first before picking up speed.
Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back as he pounded into her. "Harder," she demanded, her voice breathy and desperate. "Fuck me harder, Oscar."
He complied, his hips snapping against hers as he drove into her with increasing force. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, mixing with their moans and cries of pleasure. Y/n could feel another orgasm building, her body tensing as she neared the edge.
"I'm so close," she gasped, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Oscar could feel her tightening around him, and he knew she was close too. He reached down, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in tight circles. "Cum for me, baby,"
His thrusts grew more erratic as he neared his own release. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm going to fill you up so good, you'll be dripping for hours."
His words sent a shiver down Y/n's spine, pushing her closer to the edge. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, signaling his impending orgasm. "Yes, Oscar," she moaned, her nails raking down his back. "Fill me up. I want to feel your cum inside me."
With a final, powerful thrust, Oscar buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. Y/n cried out, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt his hot seed filling her up. Her walls clenched around him, milking him for every last drop.
Oscar's hips jerked as he continued to empty himself inside Y/n, his cock pulsing with each spurt of his release. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice ragged with pleasure. "Take it all, baby. I'm going to fill you up so good, you'll be dripping for days."
Y/n moaned, her body trembling with the intensity of her own orgasm. She could feel his hot cum flooding her insides, coating her walls. It felt so good, so right, to be claimed by him in this way.
As his orgasm subsided, Oscar collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the couch. They both lay there panting, their bodies still joined intimately. Oscar nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her sweat-dampened skin.
Oscar lifted his head to gaze down at Y/n. His eyes were soft, filled with love and possessiveness. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle.
"You're mine, Y/n," he murmured, his voice low and serious. "What's mine is mine, and I need to make sure everyone knows that."
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taglist
for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore
kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world
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humanityinahandbag · 1 month ago
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Steddie Halloween
Halloween after 'Spring Break' must be such a hard time for Steve. This is the guy that regularly hosted costume parties at his house during his King Steve era. And at some point probably hosted more laid back ones for the kids and Robin.
But since the Russian bunker he just... can't.
He has regular and more frequent night terrors of torture that had him and Robin shivering and holding onto one another like buoys. He's been dragged down into the depths of lakes by unseen monsters that left all kinds of scars. He gets migraines from moving too quickly or seeing strobing lights.
He carried Eddie's body out of the upside down, hands slippery in blood. He did CPR and felt Eddie's ribs crack under his hands. He looked at Eddie handcuffed to a hospital bed while doctors said we just don't know yet. Had to watch his Uncle, his father, sit by Eddie every day, rarely leaving his side, staring at his chest like he was grateful for each breath his boy took.
So. He's not really able to do Halloween anymore. And that's hard for him.
But whatever. He'll survive. He's fine to sit on the sidelines if it means the others will have a good time.
At this point, Steve was already coming to terms with his bisexuality. He'd already done a speed run through the Coming Out stages and walked out the other side with the eerie confidence only Steve Harrington could muster. This is a dude who has decided that he's going to flirt with Eddie until the other realizes and gets with the program. He knows Eddie likes him. He's a pro at dating and relationships and crushes. He just needs Eddie to figure out that the not so subtle hints mean something.
And then came Halloween.
He'd already told Eddie during a movie night about how much he missed the spooky season.
(And yes, he did discuss it while openly combing Eddie's hair back from his face and absolutely relishing in the way the other boy was turning all kinds of pink under the glow of the TV. Yes, Eddie was taking his time to catch up but no one said Steve couldn't have fun while he waited).
"Aw man. That sucks." Eddie barely managed to boot up his brain again to answer.
"It's fine," Steve would say, even though it wasn't.
And then, on October 31st, Steve wakes up to a maze in his backyard.
It's not a very good maze. It's mostly just tipped over pallets taken from behind Melvalds as the walls and tarps as the ceiling to block out some of the light. But it's so clearly meant to be some kind of a haunted hallway.
Steve is in boxers and a ratty Hawkins Swim Team t-shirt. He didn't take time to put on shoes, so he's walking across the cold concrete and the dewy grass in tube socks.
There's a sign posted on a piece of cardboard at the entrance.
ENTER IF YOU DARE
He stands there, shifting from foot to foot in his rapidly dampening socks, not quite sure what to do but intrigued nonetheless.
There's whispering and hushed voices from inside. And then Dustin is stomping out from around one of the pallet corners dressed in a suit that's clearly too small for him.
"Come on, dude. Can't you read? You're supposed to enter."
"It says enter if I dare."
"Yeah. So enter."
"What if I don't dare?"
Dustin rolls his eyes hard enough to make them stick, and honestly this kid and his tone.
"Can you just-" He groans. "Look. Eddie set this thing up and he and Robin dragged us all out of our beds at ass o'clock in the morning to put on these stupid haunted house costumes and wait around for you to wake up. So can you please just dare?"
Steve blinks. He looks at Dustin's suit. The tie is a little crooked and he's wearing bright yellow socks with his dress shoes. "I thought haunted house costumes were supposed to be... yunno... scary?"
"Yeah," said Dustin, gesturing to himself. "I'm the corporate grind."
And Steve can't do anything but laugh.
He goes through the little haunted maze. El was apparently having the time of her life and waves at him from a dead end, decked out a dress she made out of bits of stapled paper. "I am very frightening," she assured Steve. "I am overdue bills."
"That is very frightening," Steve agreed and ruffled her hair before going down another short hallway.
No one jumps out. There are no bright lights. Will had drawn decorations that they'd taped to the inside of the recycled plywood warning him of imposter syndrome and sleeping past your alarm and girls. Lucas at least put in a little more effort as a basketball player, though he had his knee wrapped in a bandage they must have picked up at the pharmacy and explained to Steve that the true horrors were being benched all season.
Max had refused to put on a costume and declared that she was scary all on her own.
Even Robin was there, waving at him. There was a cooler besides her. "This is the checkpoint," she said. "All the best haunted houses have checkpoints."
Apparently, the checkpoint included his migraine medication that he'd coincidentally forgotten to take that morning and a takeaway cup of lukewarm coffee.
"I tried to keep it warm!" She flapped her hands, waving them at the cardboard cup. "I literally held it between my knees and everything. But I had to help Eddie out last night to start building and-" she paused. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Forget I said that! Just- drink your coffee! Or don't! Is it warm enough? It's probably not. Fuck."
Steve is always shocked at how much more he loves Robin every day.
"It's good," Steve assured her, taking a sip. "Much scarier this way. Nothing scarier than a cold cup of coffee."
When he finally does make it to the end of the maze, Eddie is right there waiting. He's dressed as a vampire, with the stupid fake teeth and blood drawn down his chin with lipstick.
"You escaped the haunted maze!" Eddie put on a show of acting shocked, horrified, angry. His speech comes out garbled from behind the plastic teeth so it sounded more like you ethcaped the ha'ted mathe! It was endearing. Charming. Perfect. "My evil plan is foiled!"
Steve smiled. He looked back at the tarp and plywood and cardboard and duct tape. "You put this all together?" He turned back. "You built me a haunted house?"
Eddie's posturing paused. Despite how much he tried, there was little Eddie could do to hide the way he turned almost shy. He took out the teeth. "Uh. Yeah. But it's no big deal."
"It's kind of a big deal."
"It's really not," said Eddie. "Just- yunno. Figured you should be included." He brightened. "And this isn't everything! We've got a party planned at Joyce's tonight. Low music, we'll keep the lights on. Kids even picked out a movie, but I can't attest to the quality."
"You built me a haunted house."
"I... did." Eddie cleared his throat. He shoved the teeth back in. "But just so you know, it was all part of my evil plan. Which you foiled, My Liege!"
Steve stepped forward. "What was it?"
Eddie paused.
"The evil plan. What was it?"
"Oh. Uh." Eddie swallowed. "Keep you in my evil clutches forever?"
Steve beamed.
Robin had to usher a group of jeering kids away from the Harrington house. It was apparently too much for them to see Steve grab Eddie by the edges of his stupid vampire cape and tug him into a kiss.
"Dracula doesn't swoon," Dustin shouted back at them, covering his eyes.
"This one does," said Steve happily, before going back to work on a very shocked Eddie.
In the end, it did take Eddie a minute to catch up. Once his brain rebooted and he was able to comprehend that he was kissing Steve Harrington, the boy he'd loved since long, long ago.
He spends that night at the party sitting on the couch with his face buried against Steve's chest while the movie played. "You'd been flirting with me?"
"Mmmhm," said Steve, popping a candy corn into his mouth.
"This whole time?"
"Yup," said Steve.
"I wasn't imagining it?"
"Nope," said Steve.
"This is real?"
"Yup," said Steve, and dropped a kiss onto the top of Eddie's head.
"Okay," rasped Eddie. "Just checking."
"Learning how dumb you were being was the scariest thing this entire halloween," Dustin mumbled from the floor.
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f1fantasys · 4 months ago
Note
I‘ve got this little idea where Lando is angry about having to give the win to Oscar and he takes his anger out on reader but then Oscar calls Lando when they are in the middle of sonething ;) and Lando eventually picks up :D I don’t know if you like this
Thank you for this! I love it. Hope you enjoy it anon, I hope it's what you were hoping for. Remember - requests are always open.
Post Race
Warnings - mild angst, smut, fingering, m and f receiving oral, swearing
2.1K
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Today's race was a complete shitshow. Watching it was one thing, but listening to it was a whole other ballgame. Hearing how the pit wall lied, manipulated and guilt tripped Lando was heartbreaking to hear. Lando was already a sensitive being, but it was safe to say - sensitive or not - no driver deserved this kind of treatment from their own team.
You knew Lando was going to be upset, take the blame on himself for everything, but it was now your job to make him understand that none of today was his fault, and he was the one fucked over.
As he drove into his P2 place you stood watching him from the barriers. You expected to see him with a defeated look on his face, eyes sad as they usually would be after coming so close to a win and having it snatched away from him. But you didn't see any of that. Here was an angry Lando, pissed off, body language completely not what you were expecting.
He walked up to where his mechanics and you were standing. He threw words of anger, not directly to them, but rather for the team. When he looked at you his eyes bore into yours, not softening sweetly as they usually do when he looks at you. This was a very pissed off man standing in front of you, and you knew nothing you said at this moment was going to calm him down. You just bit your lip and gave his bicep a squeeze, before he was called for his interview and the podium.
As soon as that was done Lando went to finish up his other interviews. You waited for him in his drivers' room, trying to find a way to calm your own nerves and be prepared for whatever emotions Lando was going to go through.
After some time you heard Lando's voice getting louder, setting his frustrations out on Jon, about the race, about how it wasn't Oscar's race to win. His room door flew open before he quickly came inside and shut the door behind him.
''Lando -'''you started, but he cut your off.
''Just don't!. We're leaving. Flying back home. Don't want to spend another minute here'' he threw harshly at you.
''Okay, but baby please -''
''Fuck Y/N, just stop talking'' he cut you off again.
You gulped and just nodded your head, gathering your things, not saying another word. You knew his anger wasn't towards you. Basically any one who came into contact with him since the race ended has had his anger thrown at them. And you honestly struggled to find any reason to blame him.
The flight home was a silent one. You kept your distance knowing he would come to you when he was ready.
Once back at your shared apartment you hoped the comfort of the place would calm Lando down and let you be there for him.
He immediately started to unpack his bags, it was always the first thing he did once he was back home after a bad race.
''Lan I'm going for a shower'' you quietly told him as you stepped into the bathroom and started stripping when he didn't say anything back.
The warm water instantly calmed your tense body, and it had you involuntarily moaning with how good it felt.
What you didn't know was Lando had heard your moans, and for a second got angrier at the thought that you were pleasuring yourself when he was literally in the next room.
The bathroom door flew open and banged against the wall, causing you to jump and shudder with a fright.
''What the fuck are you doing?'' Lando asked, voice laced with venom, although his actions had your mind confused because he started stripping himself.
''I-What?'' you asked, mind blurred with what was going on.
He opened the shower door and you saw him in all his glory. Face red with anger, muscles taunt, and his god damn thick girth standing hard and tall, angrier than his face. His eyes shamelessly roamed your body, which had you suddenly dripped with want.
He stepped into the shower and pushed you against the wall roughly, but not enough to hurt you.
You cupped your chin and held it up so your face was gazing up at his.
''Touching yourself? When I'm right here?'' he asked, his voice and his hold on you softening instantly.
''What?'' you whispered, mind still confused at everything thats' happened in the last minute or so.
Lando's bought his fingers to toy with your cunt, slipping through your folds roughly.
''Lan oh uh'' you breathed, closing your eyes and enjoying what he was doing to you.
''Don't oh me'' he said, voice not as soft now.
''Lan, wasn't touching myself. Just felt relieved with the hot water on my body'' you breathed out, trying to grind yourself on his fingers.
''Say what you want babygirl'' he said, before leaning down to take the breath out of you in a heated, rough kiss. While at the same time he slipped two fingers through your entrance and set a relentless pace.
You moaned into him and you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled at his curls, edging him on to continue.
''Wasn't touching myself Lan'' you repeated as you pulled back for air. ''Not when I have you for that'' you whispered, pulling him in again.
He sped up his fingers and curled them so precisely so he was suddenly hitting that spongy spot inside you that sent you trembling over the edge, releasing your cum all over his hand while biting on his lower lip to ride through the pleasure.
''Look at you, dripping like this for me'' he roughly said before kissing you again and letting his tongue explore your mouth. All you could do was moan into the kiss again, trying to keep your body at bay from your unexpected orgasm.
Lando then pushed you down to your knees before pumping himself. You looked at his girth, saw how red and hard he was. The vein on the side looking like it was about to explode. You held onto his thighs as Lando pushed himself into your mouth, and hissing at the contact of your tongue on him.
He fucked into your mouth violently, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust which in turn had to gagging around him. Your mouth a mess of spit dripping down your chin.
You moaned around him again, creating a vibration at everything he was feeling, when he started talking again, this time about the race.
''Got fucked over by my own fucking team again, but at least I can come home and fuck you over now''
You moaned at his words, rubbing your thighs together slightly.
''That what you want huh? Already desperate for my cock, aren't you?'' you said as he slammed into your mouth again.
''Hmm mm'' you said, Lando not giving you a chance to say anything back.
You could feel his movements getting sloppier and clumsy, he was close, and you eagerly waited to taste him.
Suddenly though, he pulled out of your mouth. You whined in response when you saw hum shut the water off and step out the shower, pulling you behind him.
He quickly dried both of your bodies before he roughly picked you up by your ass and walked back into your bedroom, throwing you on the bed.
Lando spread your legs apart and wasted to time in running his cock through your folds before hammering into your cunt, bottoming out in one thrust.
''Fuck, Lando!'' you shrieked, body shuddering at the intrusion.
He didn't say a word. He just bought his hand to your throat and lightly put his pressure on it, using it to set a fast and rough pace, while his tongue settled on your hard nipples, biting and tugging on them.
''Yes Lan, god, feels amazing, fuck me harder, please'' you begged him, nails digging into the muscles on his back, probably even drawing blood from how hard you were scratching him.
He chuckled sarcastically. ''Harder, she says'' before his movements rapidly increased, making you a moaning mess underneath him.
That was until the sound of Lando's phone ringing on his beside halted your movements.
Lando scoffed when he saw who was calling him.
''Fucking pathetic. Steals my win from me then has the audacity to phone me while I'm fucking my girl''
You couldn't help but smile at the mention of being ''his girl'' while he was this riled up.
But you knew Lando had to speak to Oscar at some point. Might as well get it over and done with.
''Lan answer it, talk to him. You need to'' you cooed.
But Lando showed no signs of stopping fucking into you.
''He can fuck off. Don't wanna speak to him right now'' Lando angrily threw back at you.
While all this was going on you couldn't hold back your orgasm, so you violently gushed all over Lando's cock, moaning out his name, surely for the neighbors to hear.
As Lando chased his own release his phone started ringing again. This time though he held his hand over your mouth to muffle your moans and answered Oscar's call, not slowly his movements whatsoever.
''Osc'' he sarcastically threw through the call. He had it on loudspeaker so as much as you wanted to go into a phase of bliss, you listened in.
''Lando'' Oscar said, voice sounding weary, while Lando still pounded into you, eyes on yours.
''I just listened to everything. The on boards, everything. If I had known they were lying to you about your tyres and everything I wouldn't have wanted my first win like this. I didn't know you had a glitch at the start. Seriously, i hate that I took a win from you''
''Lando?'' he asked when Lando didn't reply, instead picked up his breathing into his phone.
''Fuck. I-I'' Lando panted, movements coming to halt.
''It's not your fault Oscar. The team fucked both of us today. But you deserved the win. Enjoy it'' Lando cooed back.
You couldn't help but admire Lando's humanity. He truly was such a selfless, incredible person.
''Yeah but still. Shit day for the both of us'' Oscar replied back.
Lando's eyes on you grew soft and tender for the first time since the race ended.
''Mate. We'll chat soon. But seriously, you only win for the first time once, so take it and enjoy it''
''Thanks'' Oscar said, and if he wanted to say anymore you wouldn't have heard it because Lando ended the call and threw his phone to the other side of the bed.
He leaned down and locked his lips with yours in a tender kiss, before he let all his weight fall on you and started to thrust into you again, not fucking you, but just making love to you.
You held his face in your hands and kissed him again, slow and deep, your own tongue slipping into his mouth and memorizing every inch of him.
Within minutes you had your body shaking underneath him, your warm juices sliding across his aching dick.
''Lan, fuck'' you moaned out.
''Fuck y/n, so frickin tight for me'' he whispered before his cock started twitching inside of you and in no time you felt him release his milky cum to fill you up. He moaned into your ear as he rode through his orgasm as you just wrapped your arms around him and held him as close as possible.
You stayed like that for a few minutes until he started softening, so he pulled out, the both of you moaning at the loss of contact.
Lando layed beside you and pulled you to his side.
''Lando-''
''Wait, I'm sorry for being angry at you. You know it wasn't you. It was the fucking team, and I'm not okay with how they treated me today. But thank you for being there for me. I love you so much''
''Lan I love you too. You're amazing and I swear I fall more in love with you every second of every day. You'll get that win soon enough. I know it. Until then, hold onto my love for you''
He kissed your forehead, then chuckled.
''What's so funny?'' you asked, giggling at him.
''And thank you for moaning in the shower. Fucking thought you were getting yourself off in there''
''Hmmm Lan, you should know better by now. Can't get myself off when I can have you there to fuck me whenever I want'' you both chuckled and kissed again.
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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago
Text
Mrs Doctor Reid
Nobody knew Spencer had a wife. But they found out. Nobody knew she was pregnant, not until she walks into the BAU sporting a sizeable bump.
1.2K
Season 4 Reid
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Nobody on the team knew that Spencer Reid had a wife. Spencer Reid, the youngest member of the team, the resident genuis. He had a wife. And nobody knew. (Well, JJ knew, but she wasn't about to spill his secrets).
Before he had joined the BAU, Spencer had been engaged. They'd gotten married after his first year with the team, but neither of them wore a ring on their finger. She wore it around her neck and he carried it with him, fingerings it in the privacy of his hotel room.
Spencer told JJ. He had to tell somebody, just in case something happened to him. JJ was more than happy to keep her a secret for him. And, once she met Will, she understood why he wanted to keep her secret, keep her to himself.
Morgan was the first to find out. The case was a pickup artist, an unsub that was patrolling clubs to pick up women and murder them.
Morgan and Reid had been in the clubs, handing out flyers to give to the potentially vulnerable women. When Spencer teased Morgan for getting a lack of phone numbers, he challenged him. So, Spencer used magic to impress the girl at the bar. "Well, if you see anything, call me," he'd said with his usual awkward smile.
The awkward smile his wife loved.
"And, if I don't see anything?" She asked, obviously flirting with him. "Can I still call you?"
Again, Spencer wore that smile. "Uh, my wife would prefer it if you only called if you saw anything."
When Spencer turned around, he saw the expression drop from Morgan's face. "Reid, you're married?" He asked, and Spencer nodded. "I'm so sorry, man. I didn't know."
"Nobody did," Spencer replied.
When the team found out, they felt incredibly guilty. They couldn't help but think back to Tobias Hankel and when Reid got kidnapped. She had no idea. His wife must have been sat in their apartment, alone and worried.
But JJ smoothed things out, assured them that Reid's wife was kept updated while Spencer was kidnapped. JJ told her what she needed to know and kept her calm.
But now they'd been married for four years. Spencer started wearing his ring after the team found out. He called her in front of the others while they were working on a case.
The team was so happy their resident genius was in love.
They knew about his wife, about the love of his life, but they didn't know about the baby.
Kids was always on the cards, but they had waited. Spencer's career was taking off when they got married and, with how often he was away, it didn't feel right.
But they weren't careful. It wasn't like Doctor Reid to not be careful like that. She was on birth control and there was always condoms in top drawer next to their bed.
But they slipped up just once. She'd forgotten to take her pill and hadn't noticed (Spencer was good with gently reminding her when he could. This hadn't been one of those times), and Spencer hadn't reached for a condom.
Neither of them quite realised they weren't being safe. Not until she realised there was an odd number of pills in the packet at the end of the day. She'd taken both pills, the number should have been even.
But she didn't panic. Didn't mention anything to Spencer. What was the chance she was actually pregnant? She kept things quiet until the morning sickness started. Until she took a test, and then another, and then another. When they all came back positive, she called Spencer.
She didn't normally call Spencer while he was on a case. He was busy, she waited for him to call her in the evenings, when he was in the hotel room and he wanted to hear about her day. Spencer couldn't help but assume that something was wrong.
Far from it. Everything was perfect. The minute Spencer got home he pulled her into his arms, his face in her hair. "I love you," he whispered again and again and again.
Spencer didn't tell the team. Didn't want them to worry while he was on cases.
She became, admittedly, a little clingy when she began showing. Not to the extreme of stopping him from going on cases, but, whenever he was home, she was attached to him.
And Spencer couldn't say no to his wife. She was craving pizza? He was getting pizza. She wanted him to read to her? He was bringing in a selection of books, sitting her on the sofa and rubbing her swollen feet with one hand while he read.
If she wanted to bring him something to eat, he'd text her when they were landing to do paperwork.
It didn't matter the time. Mrs Doctor Reid made two sandwiches and set off for her husbands place of work.
She had met the team a couple of times before. It wasn't many, but it was enough for her to be friendly with them. With a science museum tote bag over her shoulder, she stepped out of the elevator and walked into the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit.
Morgan spotted her first. "Hey, Mrs Reid," he called, gaining the attention of the rest of the BAU. But then Morgans eyes widened. "Holy shit," he couldn't stop himself from saying.
Emily let out a gasp as she walked over. "Congratulations, Mrs Boy Wonder," she said as she hugged her. Mrs Reid hugged her back.
Hotch shouted his Congratulations through his office doorway to the happy couple. As he did so, Morgan walked over and placed his hands on Spencers' shoulders. "My man," he said quietly and let go.
With a fond smile, Spencer pushed his hair back. He grabbed his chair and wheeled it over to her. "Hi Honey," he said softly, sitting her down on the chair.
Her bag was in her lap as Spencer wheeled her over to his desk. "I missed you," she said, pushing her own fingers through his hair.
Spencer softly smiled at her. "I missed you too," he whispered as she grabbed his hand. Public displays of affection weren't Spencers thing but, for his pregnant wife, he'd do anything.
She quickly let go of him and opened her bag. "I brought sandwiches," she said as she pulled one out and passed it to Spencer. He leaned against the desk as he unwrapped it, keeping hold of it as she unwrapped the second. Once they were open, they swapped. She took the sandwich from him and he took the sandwich from her.
As they ate, they spoke. She didn't ask about the case, she never did. No, she asked about the city and whether he'd been eating well.
Spencer assured her that he had been eating well. The conversation they had was the one they normally had in the evenings, when he was on a case.
He pressed his hand to her bump for a quick second as he finished his sandwich. "I've got paperwork to finish up," he said and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Wanna sit with me while I get it done?"
She nodded her head and Spencer grabbed another chair. As he worked she kept one hand to her bump, the other holding Spencers.
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foxy-eva · 1 year ago
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Stress Relief
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Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut 
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something. 
Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."
Oh. 
There was only one bed. 
The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option. 
Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?" 
"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."
Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ." 
You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!" 
You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.
"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer. 
You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."
With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.
When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least. 
Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place. 
“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look. 
A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine. 
As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.” 
He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”
The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were. 
“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”
Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck. 
“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you. 
“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained. 
To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”
Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.” 
You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore. 
When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center. 
There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot. 
He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed. 
“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.” 
Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you. 
To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.
“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?” 
Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.” 
“You read a book about massages?”
The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice. 
“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all. 
It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking. 
“Are you interested in that?”
Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!” 
“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!” 
Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him. 
“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded. 
Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point. 
His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”
Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”
“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.” 
The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back. 
Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to. 
The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs. 
Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions. 
“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.” 
You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish. 
“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going. 
One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.” 
Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon. 
“Please continue and… go lower.” 
In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts. 
“Like that?” Spencer groaned. 
You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”
As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild. 
You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.” 
“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response. 
There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him. 
The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet." 
It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him. 
The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment. 
"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."
At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.
Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. 
You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."
With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead. 
The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.
"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl." 
You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you. 
When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?" 
Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle. 
You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat. 
His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.
With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face. 
"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again. 
"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips. 
His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand. 
Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions. 
"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him. 
He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."
Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"
As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist. 
He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?" 
You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.” 
"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."
With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you. 
As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves. 
“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.
You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."
His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions. 
"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice. 
That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.
When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself. 
Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air. 
You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.
Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.
When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles. 
"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned." 
"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."
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my-castles-crumbling · 1 month ago
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smart - October 6th - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 665 - trans!Regulus Inspired by a reddit post that I heard about on a podcast so I don't have the original source to link it lol
"It's going well, I think," Effie whispered to Monty, who nodded at his wife, grinning.
"I like him. I have to admit, he's not what I thought he would be, though," Monty murmured, looking across the room.
It was true. James was so larger-than life and attention-grabbing; so loud and, Effie had to admit, dramatic. But Regulus, James's boyfriend who he'd finally agreed to introduce them to, was quieter. It had struck them as strange that it had taken so long, since Regulus was Sirius's little brother, and Sirius had practically been their adoptive son for years. But they didn't know a lot about Regulus. Just that he had taken longer to cut ties with Sirius's problematic family, and that their son was absolutely crazy about him.
He also seemed nervous and a bit skittish, though when he did speak, he came off as extremely smart. Though both men looked at each other with stars in their eyes, it was certainly a different match than what James's parents had been expecting.
When they interacted together, it made all the sense in the world, though. At least in Effie's opinion. They were natural opposites in the best way, and Regulus seemed to bring out the best in James. He'd never seemed happier.
"I'm going to do the dishes," she announced, standing and exiting the room, waving all of the boys off as they got up to try to help.
But as she began to get to work, the short, curly-haired man who had been glued close to James's side all night entered the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates.
"Oh, let me get those, dear!" Effie jumped over to grab the stack from Regulus's hand, eager to help.
"Thanks, Mrs. Potter," Regulus smiled softly. "The meal was wonderful. Was that thyme I tasted?"
"Oh, thank you, dear. It was! Do you cook?" she asked as they began to fall into a rhythm of washing and drying together.
"A bit. I learned a lot of family recipes as a child, and it was one of the few things my parents insisted on teaching me that I actually enjoyed," Regulus shrugged, meticulously drying a plate.
"Interesting," Effie frowned, speaking over the running water. "Did they make Sirius learn, too?" Sirius had become a permanent fixture in their household long ago, but had never mentioned learning how to cook.
Regulus just snorted softly. "No, they only made the girls learn."
It took a moment for Regulus's admission to sink in, and the dish Effie was now washing in the sink slipped from her hands as she realized. "Oh!" she said softly, her brain catching up with the conversation.
Regulus's eyes grew wide as he, too, figured out what had happened. "James and Sirius never told...?" His face, which had previously had a small smile playing on his guarded features, grew nervous and almost cold.
But Effie wasn't having that. "Regulus," she said firmly, grabbing his arm with her wet hand and refusing to allow him to turn and walk away. "It doesn't matter to us," she stated, looking the terrified man in the eye, making sure he understood she'd never been more sincere.
The gray eyes that stared back at him grew wide and watery, and he blinked a few times before nodding and letting out a shaky breath. "I- okay," he mumbled. "Sorry, I- It's just, my parents were-"
"I understand," Effie murmured, movign her hand up to squeeze his shoulder.
Nodding again, Regulus visibly relaxed, turning back to the dish he had been drying.
"It won't matter to Monty, either," Effie clarified, squeezing his shoulder again and returning to the sink. "As long as you and James love each other and you support his Quidditch team, he'll approve."
Chuckling, Regulus smiled. But after a moment, he turned to Effie, frowning. "What Quidditch team? Because James likes the Chudley Cannons and I can't even pretend to like-"
"No, he likes Puddlemere," Effie laughed, pulling him into a hug.
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varpusvaras · 2 months ago
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When Dick started to spend more time with his team, and started to talk about Wally just as much as he talked about Starfire, Bruce knew that they needed to have a talk.
"I don't care if you like boys or girls", Bruce had said. "Just promise me that you won't date Oliver Queen's son."
Not that he had anything against Roy, Bruce just really did not want to deal with Oliver any more than he already had to.
"Sure", Dick had said, in a way that very clearly implicated that if Bruce ever annoyed him too much, he would do exactly that simply to spite him.
Jason was a lot easier in regards to relationships. No teams or teammates or relationship problems that roused from having several teenagers spending a lot of time together in close quarters. Compared to Dick, Jason always looked younger and smaller, and Bruce didn't even think about talking to him about it. Not yet. They still had time to do it.
They didn't.
Jason was gone, and then he was back, and Bruce really, really did not have the time or even thought to talk to him about dating girls or boys.
And maybe that wasn't even the part that they should've talked about. No, the part they should've talked about was not dating Oliver Queen's son.
Not that Bruce had anything against Roy. He smart and resourceful and respectful (he always volunteered to help Alfred every time he came to the Manor), and he was a good father. That was especially a quality that Bruce could respect. Roy was good to Jason, in seemingly every way that mattered.
It was just that now Bruce had to deal with Oliver. Well, not in a way that he had to see Oliver more often, but he certainly had to deal with him more. Especially since every single time Bruce and Jason had an argument, Jason would spend more time at Oliver and Dinah's place, and Oliver would every single time without fail rub it in to Bruce's face.
After one of said arguments that hit a bit too close to the Holidays, Bruce knew that he had to do something. He couldn't take Oliver's smug face from having all of his kids and one of Bruce's over at their place. Bruce needed to invite them over first. Jason would understand the invitation as the olive branch that it was.
He had called Jason, but it was Roy who picked up. That was good, actually. Roy was many times easier to talk to than Jason. At least he greeted Bruce normally instead of calling him an asshole right from the get-go.
"We could come visit", Roy said, and Bruce took it was the win it was. "I'm just pretty sure that you have something to say to Jason, first."
Bruce had many things to say to Jason all the time.
"Hn", he said.
"That last argument sounded pretty bad", Roy continued, calmly and sweetly. "I'm sure that both of you said things you didn't mean to, but just because you didn't mean them doesn't mean it's okay. So, is there something you would like to say to Jason?"
"Hn." Was Bruce on speaker? Jason hadn't said anything to indicate that he could hear Bruce.
"What's the word?" For a split second, it was like Alfred was on the other side of the line, and Bruce found himself speaking before he could think about it properly.
"I'm sorry", he said.
"Thank you!" Roy sounded like he was smiling widely. "We'll be there, then!"
Roy hung up. Bruce put his phone down, his head spinning slightly.
"I assume that Master Jason and Master Roy will be over, then?" Alfred asked.
"Yes", Bruce said.
"That is splendid to hear." Alfred patted Bruce on his arm. "Good man, that Master Roy. He has certainly read his books on parenting, it seems."
Bruce leaned on his desk, his mind reeling with the realisation that he had just been out-dadded by his son's boyfriend.
A good man, Alfred had said. Bruce couldn't do anything else but agree.
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