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âI asked chatgpt-â yeah well I asked special agent aaron hotchner and he said the unsub is a straight white male in his 30s
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rock⌠paper⌠fix it.



Mr. Terrific (Michael Holt) x fem!engineer!reader
During a late night working session, you want Michaelâs help, but heâs busy. You find a creative solution to your dilemma.
1.5k+ words, minor/vague Superman (2025) spoiler, fluff, banter, brief angst, mild injury, comfort
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Raising your hand slightly, you adjust the solder between your fingers as you blow on the circuit board on your overused metal soldering tray. Youâd come into the office this morning to find two destroyed T-spheres on your desk. Mr. Terrific was hunched over his keyboard, working on coding a program, so youâd gotten to work without a word.
Ten hours later, youâre still working. Youâve gotten up a few times, Mr. Terrific has made noise behind you, but neither of you has spoken. You havenât eaten, havenât been outside, but youâre nearly finished. With the first one, you remember sullenly.
Distracted by the realization that youâll probably be here overnight, you overlook the side of your palm drifting toward the small blade resting beside your keyboard mat. The moment your skin scrapes against the sharp edge, you hiss in pain and drop the solder. Luckily, youâre conscious enough to keep the soldering iron upright in your other hand. As you shake out your injured hand, you turn off the iron and set it aside to cool.
âFatal?â Mr. Terrific asks without looking up.
âDoubtful,â you reply softly, turning your palm upward to see the scrape. âNow that weâre talking-â
âWeâre not,â he interrupts flatly.
âOkay,â you drawl. You nod to yourself, looking up at the crowded shelf above you. âCould we?â
âAbout what?â
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you try to remain polite and professional. âAbout what happened to the T-spheres,â you answer.
âSupermanâs dog,â he says. âAnd I need them fixed, so if youâre not bleeding out on my carpet, get back to work.â
âYes, sir,â you grumble.
Getting an internship with the Justice Gang â âStupid name,â youâd told your professor â was a blessing that resulted in a scholarship. Then, Mr. Terrific hired you as soon as you graduated, and youâve never looked back... except when youâve needed a reminder that he used to be nice to you.
âWhatâd you do?â he inquires after a moment, the clicks of his keyboard slowing.
âWhat?â you ask.
âBefore you hissed.â
âOh, yeah, just scraped my hand.â
Mr. Terrific looks over his shoulder, unsurprised to see youâre already watching him. âNeed anything?â
âNo, thanks,â you answer with a smile. âI think Iâll live this time.â
You return to your desk, frowning when you realize that your hand isnât the only evidence of your unfortunately timed movement.
âUh, Mr. Terrific?â you begin carefully.
He sighs heavily, then pushes his chair away from his desk.
âWhat are the odds we could just replace the T-spheres?â you ask when he turns toward you.
âYouâve been working on them all day,â he points out. âWhy are you deciding now that theyâre hopeless?â
âBecause I accidentally soldered the entire circuit board,â you admit. Immediately, you inhale, press your lips together, and hold your breath as you wait.
âReplace the circuit board and keep going,â he instructs.
âWell, the-â
Mr. Terrific stands, walks to your desk, and pushes your chair out of the way before he leans toward your project. He taps the metal, then lifts it toward the light.
âIâm not fixing this,â he says. âBut it can be fixed. No need to start over.â
âYouâre not fixing it,â you repeat disbelievingly. âItâs your T-sphere!â
âAnd youâre my employee,â he argues, setting the sphereâs internal processors down carefully. âSo, get back to work.â
You watch him for a moment, locked in a surprisingly comfortable staring contest.
âAlternatively,â you propose, âwe do something to decide who has to fix your tech.â
âWe already did. I assigned it to you, so itâs your problem now.â
âRock, paper, scissors,â you explain, completely ignoring his last statement. âWinner gets to find dinner and the loser has to work on the spheres.â
Mr. Terrific clenches his jaw and tips his head quickly. He gestures to the dark office and asks, âDo you know why I got this place?â
âTo store all your nerd stuff?â you guess sarcastically.
âTo get away from the- from GL and Hawkgirl. So I donât want to hear another ridiculous idea that could have easily come from them.â
You think about agreeing and getting back to work. Mr. Terrific is grumpy â grumpier than usual, you amend mentally â but youâre in the mood to press him a little.
âI didnât know you thought I was a better logician than you,â you muse, gripping the edge of your desk to pull your chair back onto its mat.
He extends his foot forward, blocking your path. âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
âThat Iâve been around you long enough to subconsciously analyze your behaviour. I know what youâd pick, so Iâd beat you in the game and then youâd have to work, settling for my favourite restaurant instead of whatever weird circle-shaped food youâd get.â
âCircle-shaped-â Mr. Terrific interrupts himself with a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. âThatâs not a real thing.â
âWhatever you need to hear,â you agree.
âFine,â he snaps, turning to pull his chair closer to yours.
He places his right fist on his left hand, raising one brow beneath his modified domino mask. You hide your smile and match his positioning, nodding before you speak again.
âRock,â you begin, âpaper-â
âWait,â Mr. Terrific murmurs, reaching forward.
You freeze when his fingers wrap around your wrists. He tugs your hands closer, unintentionally bringing your chair closer so that your legs slot between his. You watch, feeling your mouth go dry as he looks at your hands.
âDoes it hurt?â he asks.
You see his mouth move but donât register what heâs saying, so he drops your hands and removes his mask.
âDoes it hurt?â he repeats.
âHuh? Oh, no,â you mumble, holding your hands exactly where heâd dropped them. âThanks.â
âThe knife was hot,â he realizes. âThatâs why itâs swelling.â
You look down, finally noticing the redness spreading as your skin becomes inflamed. âItâs fine,â you force out. âAnd Iâll get back to work.â
âDonât.â
Glancing up, you meet Mr. Terrificâs eyes. His gaze is steady on you, and you no longer feel like youâre at work.
âSir?â you whisper.
âLetâs go get dinner,â he decides, pushing away from you suddenly. âWeâll look at the spheres again in the morning, and then we can decide if theyâre worth salvaging.â
âSure,â you say slowly. âWhere are we going?â
âLetâs get your favourite.â
âWe donât have to do that,â you insist.
Mr. Terrific doesnât reply as he brushes past you to exit the office. You watch the doorway with furrowed brows until he returns with a first aid kit.
âSit,â he demands.
You perch on the edge of your desk, watching him. His face is still painted in a few places, but his jaw is tight and his eyes focused as he places a bandage, a tube of burn cream, and some tape on the desk by your hip. When he offers his hand, you lay your palm in his so he can move your hand however he needs it. He works quietly, your mingled breaths and the steady hum of a fan keeping you from a tense silence.
âMichael,â you whisper when he hesitates to wipe your skin.
His swallow is visible, the bobbing of his Adamâs apple preceding his eyes dragging up to yours.
âItâs okay,â you promise. âItâll sting, but Iâm a big girl. I can handle it.â
âYou shouldnât have to,â he says.
âWhat do you mean?â
âYouâre supposed to be safe,â he begins, pausing when he drags the wipe across your palm. You grimace, and he remains quiet as he reaches for the prepared bandage. âWhen I asked you to help, when I hired you, I thought youâd always be far from the dangers we face. You getting hurt⌠it isnât supposed to happen.â
âMichael, itâs a scratch and a tiny burn,â you remind him. âI do worse than this trying to cook. You didnât fail to keep me safe â which, by the way, isnât a burden you have to bear.â
Michaelâs tongue peeks out of his mouth as he licks his bottom lip. âWhat⌠what if I want to?â he whispers.
Your lips part as he finishes, your breath leaving slowly. âIâd never ask you to do that,â you whisper.
âBut would you let me?â
Turning your hand, you push your fingers between Michaelâs. âOnly if you beat me at rock, paper, scissors,â you answer, smiling up at him.
Michael shakes his head, but you see his lips quirk up slightly. He places his fist on his palm again, and you begin the game normally, then raise your hand in a half-heart shape.
âWhat is that?â Michael demands, holding his scissors up.
âItâs love,â you answer, as if itâs obvious. âIt defeats all.â
Michael takes your shoulders, shakes you gently, then offers his hand to help you off the desk. He turns you toward your messy desk and points over your shoulder.
âFirst thing tomorrow,â he says, âfix that.â
âSir, yes, sir,â you agree with a firm nod.
âYouâre so annoying,â he grumbles, moving toward the door.
âYou flatter all your dates like this?â you taunt, catching up with him and taking his hand. He squeezes your fingers in reply, which you take as meaning no, but youâre special.
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# â calling mark grayson "small."
got fried as fuck and this shit came to me like a prophecy. a dream. i know i have my to-do list, but itâs hard for me to write stuff iâm no longer in the exact headspace for. like, i need to wait until i can get into it enough to feel it the way i did when i first thought of it. anyways, this is set in a universe thatâs pretty canon-compliant: mark and amber broke up, but he hasnât dropped out of college (yet) or ended up with eve. you also have no clue heâs invincible, just that heâs had a glow up and your cute, dorky friend from high school is now fine as shit. i also listened to âparty favorsâ by leon thomas and big sean the entire time i worked on this.
lastly, i'd like to give a humongous shoutout to @omniphilic for beta-reading this monster for me! much love, sunshine, and godspeed, my children. enjoy! | wc: 7.9k words.
cw: nsfw mdni (18+), afab!reader, a lot of porn with a lot of plot, light angst, confessions, banter, friends-to-lovers, mentions of amber (i love you girl but itâs so easy to use you as a plot device </3), oral sex (f!recieving), explicit sex (p in v), missionary, squirting, dirty talk, praise, soft!dom mark, consider this my apology for the hurt/very little comfort v!card mark x reader fic <3
thinking about you joking around with mark grayson and calling him⌠small. you know where.
it sounds like such a silly scenario, but walk w/ me: you and mark have an⌠odd friendship. looking back on it, you two were an unlikelier pair than winning the lottery. youâre from completely different worldsâ you were more on the straight and narrow: the academic side of things. all you did was bust your ass, and you had plenty to show for itâ friends, awards, this air of recognition that followed you from classroom to classroom.
and mark? well, he fell more into the category of incredibly average. average grades, average social life, even an average reputation amongst the student bodyâ the kind that makes you easy to remember and always gets you labeled as a âpretty cool guy,â but keeps you out of any real trouble. maybe thatâs part of his charmâ the fact that everything about him is initially so unassuming, so run of the mill that you donât even think twice. not until you start to get to know him.
thereâs plenty that sticks out once you get to know him.
then, somehow, at the start of your senior year, you two ended up partnered together for a project in the same upper-level english class. yâknow, the college freshman one everyone takes because itâs a cheap credit, regardless of if theyâre going to harvard to study law, or to the local community college to save a bit of money. neither of you had many expectations, but you and mark became fast friends. markâs awkward charm grew on you, and he already had a decent opinion of you from seeing you around, but finally being in a situation where he could talk to you and not feel like a nuisance only made him think of you more highly than before. you were cool as shit; he has no idea how you two hadnât spoken sooner.
but itâs no surprise that you two absolutely nailed the project. with your smarts and markâs willingness to learn, the grade on it ended up being so good that it made you jump into markâs arms out of pure excitement. mark caught you effortlessly, spinning you around and giggling alongside you without a second thought. the intimacy of such a reaction didnât dawn on you two until long after he set you down, you grinning giddily in his face, while he could do nothing but grin back.
thatâs how you ended up hereâ lying in markâs bed, long after graduation, and visiting home from campus on a long weekend. youâre wearing one of his t-shirts and reading one of his copies of seance dog as he works on a paper. when you found out you two would be attending the same university, you were more than stoked. mark was stoked too, but he was so sure you couldâve gotten into one of chicagoâs finest, or, better yet, move away from illinois entirely, rather than attend upstate university. he gave you a hesitant look when you said you were more than content with your choice, saying that a degree is a degree no matter where you went and that as long as you could be with mark, it would be worth it. deep down, though, mark swore something bloomed in his chest that day. he doesnât really know what that feeling wasâ is, to be more accurate, because he still feels it sometimesâ but thatâs the least of his worries.Â
his main worry is getting this paper in by 11:59 pm tonight.Â
and just like that, the rhythmic clacking of markâs fingers against the keyboard fills the silence and leaves you to bask in this comforting sensation of warmth. youâre so relaxed that you canât bring yourself to move. not that you would have wanted to, anyway.
itâs peaceful. so, of course, you have to ruin it.Â
âyou ever want to fuck a cartoon character?â you suddenly say, the copy of seance dog in your hand and your foot crossed over your knee. you hear the way markâs typing pauses for a moment, and imagining his reaction forces you to bite back a snicker. a pregnant silence fills the room before the typing begins again, just as rhythmic and hypnotic as before.
âi know youâre not saying that about seance dog,â mark finally quips back, his voice dripping with an absurd amount of mirth. you can hear his smile in his voiceâ you always can, because mark rarely doesnât smile. itâs one of your favorite things about him.
you canât help but take the bait.
âyou think i could be?â you ask, tone scandalized and brows raised. neither of you move to face each other just yetâ you donât need to. you can tell exactly what face markâs making from the sound of his voice, and mark can do the same for you. itâs how he knows that youâve stopped biting back that smug smile of yoursâ the one that creeps across your face when youâre clearly up to something, but he doesnât know what. youâre a troublemaker; itâs one of his favorite things about you.
âyeah,â he replies without missing a beat, âi clearly know nothing about you. i was once dumb enough to think you were intimidating.â
âiâm still intimidating!â
âyeah, maybe on occasion,â mark teases, his typing ceasing completely so that he can spin around in his chair. he leans against it with his head tossed back and his arms on the armrests, eying you gleefully as you put the comic face down on the bed. âmost of the time i forget because youâre too busy saying shit thatâs uncomfortably close to âi wanna fuck seance dog.ââ
âeat shit and die, mark.â
âi donât wanna.â
âthen shut the fuck up and answer the question!â
âfine, fine!â mark laughs and lifts his hands up lazily off the chair in mock-surrender. ââcourse iâve wanted to fuck a cartoon character. who hasnât? iâm not a nun.â
something flashes in your eyes, and you shift to lean forward towards where markâs sitting, propping up on your elbows on the bed. you grin mischievously; itâs clear youâre up to nothing remotely good.Â
âwho?â you ask.
mark replies immediately. âkoriandâr.â
âwhaâ from the titans?â
âno, from the avengers. yes, from the titans. who else would i be talking about?â
âalright, down, boy,â you say amusedly, making mark roll his eyes. âi was just checking. but you obviously canât handle that.â
mark raises an eyebrow. âsays who?â
âuhh, says me?"
the two of you are still for a moment, and you start to fear you said something wrong until you see markâs eyes darken in that telltale way they do when he starts to feel challenged. then, as if that wasnât enough to give you goosebumps, he does that stupid, mindless thing he does with his tongue, where he runs it along the inside of his cheek. your breath stills in your chest when mark pushes up off the back of his chair and leans forward towards where you lie on the bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped between his thighs.Â
itâs hard to keep your gaze from dropping to the veins in his hands.
âoh yeah?â mark asks incredulously, tilting his head. you were joking about being the intimidating one earlier, but the real intimidator is mark. when he gets serious, you swear you can feel something in the air shift. maybe thatâs why it feels like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up right now.
âwhy not?â
the question, in its simple nature, catches you off guard, and in a brief moment of confusion, you tilt your head. âwhy not what?â âwhy couldnât i handle her?â
you stare at mark as if heâs joking, but instead of him laughing and waving you off, mark stares back at you expectantly, brow arched and lips quirked up at the corners. itâs like he wants to smile, but he canât. wonât.Â
this dickhead must have a death wish.
âwhat do you mean âwhy couldnât you handle her?ââ you say casuallyâ like what youâre saying is most obvious thing in the world. âitâs koriandâr, mark. sheâd chew you up and spit you out before you even had time to undo your belt.â
you swipe up your copy of seance dog and busy yourself with trying to find where on the page you last left off. honestly, it doesnât matter where you start reading. youâre willing to do anything to help get your mind off the weight of markâs eyes boring into you.
âbesides,â you huff, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, âkoriandâr has standards, and you probably have a small dick, anyway.â
the second those words leave your mouth, the room falls deathly silent, and you swear itâs as if the air has been sucked out of the room. you fall still where youâre at, hoping that somehow, someway, you not moving will make mark want to kill you less. you really donât know what possessed you to say thatâ it was a poor attempt at deflection, considering the growing amount of tension you began feeling in that roomâ but you donât mean it. didnât mean it. not one bit.Â
youâre doing mental gymnastics to figure out how you can take it back without sounding like a total loser before mark starts laughing, and the joyous and boisterous sound gives you pause.
he couldnât have found that funny⌠could he?Â
okay, yeah, after a little bit of consideration, he very well could have. this is mark grayson, youâre talking aboutâ not one of the insecure guys you were used to dealing with, who were more likely to blow a blood vessel than a load at the idea of being perceived as âunmanly.â markâs the type of guy to wear one of your crop tops because he knows youâll whine about him stretching them out, or wear a maid dress as a punishment for losing a bet, masking his embarrassment with quips about how good his legs look. you also know mark enough to know heâs not a virgin, nor is he a prude, but not well enough to know intimate details about his sex life. sure, jokes are fine, but a play-by-play on how he screwed his ex feels⌠invasive. beyond the scope of your shared comfort. it was just something you never thought of asking.
well, more like something you could never bring yourself to ask.
you set the comic back down on the bed just in time to watch mark wipe some tears from his eyes, twisting around to face his laptop with a smile on his face. he resumes typing like nothing happened, like you didnât just obliterate his manhood and leave it in pieces for him to pick up off the floor. itâs hard not to gawk at him in disbelief, blinking rapidly for a few moments before speaking.
âthatâ didnât upset you?â you say tentatively, voice a lot meeker than initially intended. mark huffs out a laugh and spins around, hands back to resting on the armrests.
âwhy would it have?â he says bemusedly, still smiling from before. âwe joke like that all the time. honestly, iâm surprised you hadnât said something like that sooner.â
you can only stare at him blankly, brows knitting in confusion as mark continues to regard you patiently. then, you sit up, pushing up off your elbows to swing around and upright, one leg dangling off the bed while the other stays bent in front of you.Â
âwhy didnât you get mad?â
mark pauses, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head. â...is this a trick question? why would i? you were joking around.â
âmost guys wouldâve gotten mad about me saying something like that.â
âyeah, well, most guys arenât exactly confident about what theyâre packing downstairs.â
âand you are?â
markâs lips part for a second, but no words come out. he quickly shuts his mouth and stares at you, but you stare back, ignoring the way your cheeks start to burn with red-hot embarrassment.Â
âwell, yeah,â mark finally says, eyes flickering nervously to the side. he looks everywhereâ the alarm clock on the dresser, his posters on the wall, everywhere but where you are, sitting prettily on his bedâ but his eyes have no choice but to finally lock back onto yours, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. ââcourse iâm confident about it.â
â...âcause itâs not small.â
he pauses. âyeah. âcause itâs not small.â
your brain short-circuits right then and there.
you arenât sure why youâre so surprised by this. it wouldnât have taken a rocket scientist to arrive to this conclusion. you were around when mark started dating his ex-girlfriend, amberâ around long enough to have seen the exact point in their relationship where they shed the last of their inhibitions and began interacting with each other much more comfortably. you were also around long enough to watch mark come into himselfâ to lose that dweebish, unsure aura around him and become more confident. muscled. tall. even if he was still pretty dorky most of the time.
perhaps thatâs when the thoughts started: when you started to think of mark less as a boy, and more as a man. when you began wondering things about him that you desperately wanted to know, but were much too scared to ask.
at least you have an answer to one of them now.
âhey,â mark says suddenly, voice sharp enough to cut through all your overthinking and analyses. markâs closer to you nowâ right next to you, actually, the scent of his cologne filling your noseâ and he has your hand in his, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back. âyou okay? should i not have said thatâ?â
you frantically shake your head. ânoâ! i mean, yesâ god, fuck, no, mark, itâs okay.â you take a deep breath, letting your eyes fall shut. âiâm the one who asked. you just answered.â
you take in a shaky breath and let your eyes flutter open to find mark watching you adeptly, his eyes trained on your face. the expression heâs wearing is one of worry, those dark brows of his pinched in the middle to form a wrinkle you so desperately want to smooth out with your thumb. his plush, pink lips are parted, and in an attempt not to stare at them, your eyes fall to the floor, but not before momentarily catching on how his biceps strain against his sleeves.
for fuckâs sake, this is not the time to be focusing on how attractive you find your best friend.
âi wanted to know,â you finally say, voice soft and a little frayed around the edges. your eyes flutter shut againâ something to give you a bit of extra courage to say what you need to say, and not cave under the pressure of your nerves. âi wanted the answer to that question. it sounds weird as fuck, and i totally understand if you want me to leave and never show my face around here again, but iâd be lying if i said i didnât want to know.â
you open your eyes again to find mark still staring at you, eyes jumping all over your face, while sporting an unreadable expression. you find yourself swallowing hard as you steel yourself for what you want to say next, adjusting to sit and face mark completely. âi wanna know a lot of things about you, actually. and none of them are all that appropriate for two people who are supposed to be âbest friends.ââ
itâs markâs turn to short-circuit.
âwâwhat?â mark stutters out, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression as his eyebrows shoot up in suprise. his mouth falls agape, opening and closing fruitlessly as he tries to figure out what to say. âiâ jesus christ, i donât think you understand what youâre sayingââ
âi know exactly what iâm saying.â your interjection is quick and firm, your expression void of your previous nervousness and now completely serious. âand you know it. donât insult me like that again.â
markâs protests die in his throat.
âi want to know you,â you start. âhonestly. intimately. fuck, to be honest, i want to see youâ naked, in my bedâ but i didnât wanna make things weird, and then you had that whole thing with amber, and then i thought you were gonna date eve, so i kinda just kept it to myself, butââ
âyou can know me.âÂ
you freeze. âwhatâ?â
âyou can know me,â mark says again, his hand squeezing the one that he has wrapped in his. âyou can know me. and see me. and iâll answer every other question youâve had about me, âcause i wanna know you too.â
you canât help but stare at mark , absolutely and completely dumbfounded. if he notices, he doesnât judge. doesnât acknowledge it at all, actually. he just continues to steamroll ahead.
âgod, fuck, i really wanna know you like that, too,â he sighs. âalways haveâ like, all the way back in high school. iâd see you in the halls with your friends and think, âman, theyâre hot,â then move on with my life because i thought there was no way iâd ever have a chance with you. then, we got partnered up for that project, and i learned that you were so much cooler and more approachable than i had ever imagined, and i wanted to make a move on you so bad, but i still thought there was no way you could ever like me. william can testify to thisâ i was talking his ear off about you 24/7. still do. he is seriously getting sick of it.âÂ
the way mark talks is fastâ so much so that all his words bleed together, voice full of excitement and sincerity. it make your eyes sting. after he finishes, his quick way of talking tapers off into a hefty bout of silence, his beautiful brown eyes flickering down to your joint hands.Â
âand then came amber.â
the quiet that follows drapes over the two of you like a blanket, heavy with the weight of everything you two are thinking, but ultimately remains unsaid. the fact of the matter is that it doesnât need to be said. you and mark just⌠knowâ understandâ that amber was the first person, aside from you, to treat mark as less of an expendable, and more like somebody worth knowing. she took the opportunities you were too afraid toâ penciled her name in where yours was meant to be and slipped right on into that âpartnerâ position, wearing it as if it was custom-fitted. it may as well have been, because it sure looked good on her.Â
he looked good on her. thatâs why you couldnât bring yourself to be mad.
âi never wouldâve gone out with her if i knew you wanted me even half as much as i wanted you,â mark says quietly, reaching up to rub a tear from your cheek that you didnât even know you shed. âbut i didnât. and we dated, and i slept with her, and i loved her, but i feel all of that for you too, yâknow.â he cradles your face delicately as he climbs up onto his knees, his movements slow, as if moving too quickly would scare you off. moving too quickly would remind you that this is real; remind you that you probably shouldnât be doing this, causing you to hop off the bed and run down the hall, flying down the stairs, past debbie, and out the front door.
but you donât have to worry. never have, actually, because the way mark treats you is careful. cautious. heâs kneeling on the bed and easing you onto your back with such rapt attention that it makes your cheeks warm, head turning to the side to shield it from him before he turns your head right back to where it was.
âi want you to ask your questions,â mark says slowly, large hands pushing your knees apart to make room for him between your legs. you canât help but stare at him helplessly, any and all words dying in your throat, but mark moves with a confidence that makes it clear you donât need to speak. not when heâs hovering over you like this.Â
âi want to answer your questions, and i want you to do the same for mine. âcause iâve thought about you. a lot. and not all of it was decent. actually, most of it probably wasnât.â
mark lets himself laugh softly at the admission, but you can only look up at him in awe, the muscles of your brows twitching from the urge to knit in confusion. markâs eyes catch this, and he reaches down to smooth his thumb over the spot right between your eyebrowsâ the same way you wanted to do for him earlier.
âso tell me that this is okay.â
mark trails his fingers across your skin, skimming over your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, and all the way down your arm until reaching your hand. he tangles your fingers together and brings your wrist to his lips, a soft kiss being pressed to your pulse, which makes your heart stutter in your chest. mark doesnât tease you for how vulnerably you stare at him, or for how red his actions make your face. he only looks down at you with a soft smile, peppering kisses to your palm.
âholy shit, mark, this is more than okay.â
markâs grin is blinding when you surge forward to kiss him.
the thing that surprises you most about it isnât how good of a kisser mark is, or how nice it feels for his big hands to come up and cradle your jaw. itâs how easy all of this isâ how uncomplicated it is to be making out with mark, how your lips slot together as if itâs always meant to be this way, how raw his groan is when you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug. he has you pressed against the bed in seconds, one hand slowly slipping beneath your t-shirt as the other squeezes at your outer thigh. you feel dizzy when your lips part and he ducks his head down into your neck, sucking bruises into the skin with a fervor that makes you squirm.
âiâ fuck, mark, not where people can seeâ!â
âdoes it matter if itâs visible? âs not like youâre fucking anyone else right now besides me.â
you hit mark hard against his back, but it only makes him chuckle, sitting up to look at you with messy hair and blown pupils. âwhat? you havenât slept with anybody in a while, and youâre about to sleep with me. i didnât say anything wrong.â
âhow do you even know that, asshole?â
mark grins, sitting back on his haunches as he hooks the hem of your shirt on his index finger. he tugs it up enough to reveal your stomach. ââcause youâre lying here in my bed, wearing my shirt, with me sitting between your legs. if i was the person youâve been fucking, iâd definitely feel some type of way about that.â
you scoff, moving one of your legs to try and kick at markâs chest. like the little shit he is, he catches it easily and presses a kiss to your ankle, setting it on one of his shoulders. âthat doesnât mean anything. i could have casual sex if i wanted to.â
âyeah,â mark agrees, both hands coming to smooth his shirt up the expanse of your body, âyou could. if you wanted to. but you donât, âcause youâre not like that.â
âbullshit.â
âis not. here, open your mouth for me.â
âwhâ?â
âshut up and open it for a second, would you?â
you shoot mark a withering glare, but he just grins back, pushing your shirt up under your chin and offering the hem for you to bite down on.
âthank you,â he says gleefully, his words a little too airy and sing-songy for you to let slide. you try and kick him again, but he blocks your leg without much of a second thought, eyes laser focused on the sight of your tits in front of him.
âwow, you are so fucking pretty.â
the way he says it is so full of aweâ so genuineâ that it makes your mouth fall open. the t-shirt in your mouth gets stuck on your bottom lip in the process, and the sight makes mark chuckle, a boyish grin settling on his face. he reaches up to adjust it and pulls it back up so you can bite down on it again.
âi didnât even say anything crazy yet,â he teases, laughing as you do your best to swear at him from around the fabric. mark ignores it to focus on the sight in front of him instead, though, fingers tracing up your rib cage before cupping the underside of each of your breasts.
your mind goes blank when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
âoh, fuck,â you gasp out, back arching off the bed and into his mouth. the t-shirt slips from between your teeth again, and you can feel mark grin around where his tongue swirls around your skin, popping off to look at you and chastise you softly.
âjeez, you really suck at following instructions,â mark playfully says. âand did you forget that my mom is downstairs? iâve had her knock on the door during sex before, and trust me, it does not help to sustain the mood.â
âgod, you sound like such a dork. âit does not help to sustainâââ
mark cuts you off with a groan, fingers curling into the waistband of your shorts and panties. âshut up and lift your hips already.â
you giggle. âfine, fine.â
you plant your feet and lift your hips off the bed enough for mark to tug your clothes off, separating your shorts from your underwear so he can tuck the garment into his pocket. You look at him with a flustered expression, mouth dropping open in bewilderment, but mark simply sticks his tongue out at you and flings your shorts to the floor, panties nowhere in sight. you hardly have enough time to process him keeping them for himself before heâs wrapping his hands around your thighs and tugging them onto his shoulders, putting him face to face with your cunt and lifting your lower back completely off the bed.
you knew mark was strong, but you never thought of him using his strength like this.
mark holds you firmly as he busies himself with eating you out like a man starved. those big, brown doe eyes of his look down at you, sometimes lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, and sometimes taking in the sight of your knitted brows and parted lips, both your hands tangled in the pillow behind your head. his eyes do fall shut every once in a while as if heâs savoring the taste of you on his tongue, and he probably is, knowing mark, but you donât have the wherewithal to tease him. not now, at least. not when heâs got his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in these sporadic little bursts that make your stomach burn with molten need.
âoh, f-uck,â you gasp, voice cracking on the expletive. in your defense, itâs the only word you currently feel like you know how to say, but mark doesnât laugh or tease you for it. he just presses a messy kiss to your clit, then slides his tongue down through your folds to circle your hole, slowly and messily pressing inside of you. he pumps it in and out for a few moments, as if heâs trying to fuck you with his tongue, then flattens the muscle and drags it back up to your clit to press into it firmly. you untangle your fingers from the sheets and reach up to swat at markâs thigh, twisting and turning frantically in his hold.
âoh my fucking god, mark, let go!â your whines are urgent, thighs beginning to quiver on either side of markâs head. his eyes flutter open enough to look at you through his long, thick lashes, but his firm grip on your waist doesnât let up in the slightest. his arms tighten around you, keeping your pussy to his lips and your body off the bed as he continues to ravage you like itâs the one thing he was born to do. âmark! âm fuckinâ seriousâ iâm gonna squirt if you donât let go of mâ oh, fuck!â
you realize your warning is a bit late as you feel that knot tighten and snap in your belly, but it wouldâve fallen on deaf ears regardless of whether you said it earlier or not. your cunt gushes all over markâs nose, lips, and chin, soaking the top of his t-shirt and dribbling a bit down onto the bed below. youâd think heâd have a concern of drowning, but markâs tongue keeps moving as you cum, legs squeezing against his ears so tight that youâre sure he can hear absolutely nothing but his own heartbeat. you know you sure canâtâ all you can hear is the distant sound of your own voice, and the way your breathing stutters in your chest, a series of tremors wracking your body so brutally that youâd liken them to an earthquake.Â
âshit,â you gasp softly, limbs tingling once they regain sensation. you wriggle in markâs grasp and he pulls back from your pussy with a pop!, lowering your hips down to the bed as he runs his tongue along his lower lip.
âyou said you were about to squirt as if that was going to deter me,â mark says breathlessly, a soft laugh punctuating his sentence. his face is covered with your slick all over his lips and chin, the sun from the window catching on it in a way that makes it glisten. youâre embarrassed by his nonchalance, but itâs hard to be mad when mark looks this good. you did this to himâ made his perfectly slicked-back hair disheveled, and soaked his lower face and chest in your cum. normally, you would reply to his quip right away, but right now, you donât. youâre much too focused on watching how mark leans down to reach behind his head and grab at his shirt, shucking it off in one smooth motion to join your discarded shorts on the floor.
âit was supposed to,â you finally say, voice sounding just as breathless as markâs. his lips quirk up at the corners, but he doesnât meet your eyes. instead, he leans over you to open his bedside drawer, and you take that as an opportunity to continue. âdidnât realize i was sleeping with superfreak, over here.â
mark snorts. âiâm just a guy who prioritizes my partnerâs pleasure over mine.â
âthatâs a roundabout way to say you like to eat pussy. and ass. oh god, mark, you donât eat ass, do you?â
mark wiggles his eyebrows in response, and you look at him with such a horrified expression that a giggle canât help but escape from his chest. he shuts the bedside table with a soft thud and leans back over you with a strip of two condoms hanging from his mouth. your brows shoot up at the sight, but mark doesnât see it. heâs much too focused on pushing his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs, cock slapping lightly against his abs.
oh. you always knew mark looked good, but this? this is something else entirely.
âyouâre staring,â mark says wryly, tearing one of the condoms from the strip, then opening up the wrapper with his teeth. you watch as he pinches the tip and rolls the condom onto himself with a level of precision that screams of practice. if you hadnât just cum your brains out, you mightâve found yourself feeling a little bit jealous.
ââcourse i am.â your reply is shameless, and it makes mark bark out a startled laugh. âyou said it was big, not that you were carrying a weapon. now here you are, looking like asian adonis with my jizz on your face, rolling a condom on with the ease of a common whore. not to mention that you grabbed two of them.â
a giddy smile spreads across markâs face in reply, but itâs not one of his usual ones: itâs bashful. itâs the kind of smile where he bites his lip to force it down, but it doesnât work, so his bottom lip slowly unfurls from between his teeth. your ears burn bright red at the sight, but mark doesnât comment on it. markâs never been good at multitasking, and heâs much too focused on tossing the unopened condom to the side, then tugging you against him by your thighs.
âwe donât have to use them both,â mark says softly, the sweetness of his smile bleeding into his voice. itâs a bit jarring for him to be acting so adorably, like heâs not running his cock along the seam of your folds. the tip catches on your clit every so often, making your breath catch in the back of your throat.
âi like how thatâs what you chose to comment on.âÂ
he shrugs. âdidnât have much else to say.â
âyouâre a dog, you know that, mark?â
mark grins at you wickedly, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek.
âmm, yeah. âm guilty as charged.â
and just like that, he sinks into you, bottoming out in one smooth thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. your eyes screw shut, but you latch onto him immediately, hand shooting out in search of his. he takes it wordlessly, bringing your hand up so he can kiss your knuckles.
âyou okay?â he asks tenderly, lips pressed to the back of your hand. you open your eyes, tears pricking at the corners, then nod slowly as a deep breath leaves your nose.
âyeah,â you say shakily. âjust been a while. warn me next time.â
mark nods, doing his best not to get caught up on the fact that you want there to be a next time. âsure,â he answers. âsorry. hereâ put your legs on my shoulder.â
you lift your legs for mark to take, and he settles both of your feet on one of his shoulders like they belong there. then, he shifts forward, shuffling up so that his thighs bracket your hips, which slots him deeper into you than he has any business being.
it makes you feel crazy. you fucking love it.
once mark feels stable in his position, and any remnants of discomfort bleed from your expression, he starts rocking his hips in and out of you at a pace too quick to be languid, but too slow to be considered harsh. whatever rhythm heâs fallen into, it feels good. youâre clawing at the sheets at your sides and behind your head like a madman, that copy of seance dog he lent you long forgotten on the floor, along with everything else you two have taken off.Â
âdoes this answer one of your questions?â mark asks lowly, eyes half-lidded and jaw tight. heâs got your legs pressed to his chest with one hand, the other splayed across your stomach to hold you in place. you can tell itâs not that simple, though; the firmness with which he presses down against your stomach is as if heâs feeling for something, and the realization makes you clench, cunt squelching lewdly around his cock inside you. âdid you wonder how i fuck? if i liked it fast? or did it slow?â
in your day-to-day conversations, mark doesnât swear all that oftenâ at least, not compared to youâ but the mouth heâs got on him in bed is a surprise that makes you flush down to your chest. you look up to see mark gazing at you with eyes that are almost black, a bright blush fanning across his freckled cheeks and nose. when he sees you struggle to answer, the gears clearly turning, but no words coming out, he grips your legs tighter and quickens the snap of his hips. markâs lips fall open with a breathy moan as he watches the way your eyes roll back, and his abdomen clenches with the need to keep his own pleasure at bay. âcâmon, baby. tell me. tell me how you want it, ânâ i promise iâll do whatever you say.â
âiâ god, fuck, mark, yes, i wondered how you fucked!â your reply comes out breathy, whiny, and and rushedâ a result of you making an actual effort to focus so it didnât come out as a jumbled, inaudible mess. âi w-wondered if youâd treat me like glass, or fuck me like i had no self-respect. i donât care what you do right nowâ swear tâgod i donâtâ âcause i just wanna cum. donât fucking stop.â
mark huffs out a laugh at how desperate you sound, lips quirking up in a lopsided smile that shows off the cute little fangs he has in the corners of his mouth. he turns his head to kiss one of your ankles, then takes one to put it on the opposite side, making it so you have one leg on each of his shoulders. large, calloused hands slide down your legs and smooth over your thighs before taking your hands into each of his. youâre about to ask what heâs doing, but thereâs no time for the words to come out. heâs already gripping both your wrists and tugging you forward, forcing your ass to smack against his thighs with every brutal snap of his hips.
your brain is about to melt out of your fucking ears.
âdid you touch yourself?â markâs asks breathlessly, dark eyes focused on your face. you try desperately to free your hands from his grasp, but your attempts are pathetically uncoordinated. the way his cock is rearranging your guts makes it impossibly difficult to focus. but despite your lack of success, your writhing makes mark tut at you disapprovingly, and he leans forward to keep you in place by resting a fraction of his body weight on your chest. âquit trying to run ânâ tell me. did you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you? imagining how it would be?â
mark leans down to lick a stripe up the side of your neck, voice dropping to a filthy, sultry whisper. ââcause i did. thought about this all the time, what youâd feel like around me. itâs so much fuckinâ better than i imagined.â
you nod your head frantically, hands clenched into fists, and your nails dig so roughly into your palms that itâs a miracle it hasnât drawn blood. mark isnât completely satisfied with your response, but he takes it for what it is and releases both of your wrists in favor of grabbing onto your hips.
âif you touched yourself while thinking of me, then show me. play with it for me, hm?â
you donât need much more coaxing than that.
your fingers fly to your clit at lightening speed, middle and ring finger rubbing in quick, tight circles that mark finds absolutely hypnotizing. your other hand comes up to palm at your breasts, pinching and tweaking at your nipples in a way that makes you whine. mark damn near growls at the sight, a string of expletives youâve never heard from him before being let out into the ether as he doubles his efforts to fuck you into the mattress.
âopen your eyes,â mark demands, his words oozing with a tone youâre very much not used to being addressed with. his voice is low, gravely, and deeply affected by the way your walls squeeze around him, and you find that you quite like having him like this: wrapped around your finger, barely hanging on, lost in everything pertaining to you. the sentiment is definitely shared, because as you force your eyes open, you feel your features pinch the way they do when youâre trying not to cry. itâs nothing badâ far from it, actually. itâs just that mark is fucking you so good that you feel like youâre losing your mind, and the pleasure is so mindboggling that it makes you wanna sob.Â
âthere yâgo, baby,â mark sighs, âjust keep lookinâ at me. i wanna see your face when you cum.â
his honest admission shoots straight through you and right to your core, pussy clenching around him tightly, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. mark moans low and long at the feeling, adamâs apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows hard.
âfuck, i like when yâdo thatâ when you like what i say and you get all tight around me. justâ keep touching yourself, pretty. look at me and let it happen.â
all you can do is nod helplessly. mark ducks down to press a kiss to your cheek, fingers pressing what will definitely be bruises tomorrow morning into the skin of your hips. his cock splits you open in a mindbending way, your fingers flicking at your clit so frantically that your hand has become nothing but a blur.Â
then, the bubble bursts. your orgasm hits you like a truck, your head flying back, and the muscles in your jaw and neck pulling taut. the same goes for your legsâ your knees lock up and your thighs pull tight, shaking with violent tremors as you gush again, this time, around markâs cock. you do your best to keep your eyes open as you cum, but itâs hard. from what you can see, though, markâs mouth drops open and his eyes flash with something brightâ yellow, evenâ as he takes in the sight of you falling apart. whatever it is, you donât give it much thought. your brain is much too fried to be trusting everything you see right now.
âyouâre a fucking dream like this,â mark mutters, his tone oozing with awe and disbelief. dutifully, he fucks you through your second orgasmâ all the squirming, pulsing, and wetness thatâs stained his sheets twice in one nightâ and holds your unfocused gaze all throughout it before he feels you coming down and abruptly pulls out. your twitching legs drop unceremoniously to the bed, and mark swings his thighs over you to settle over your chest, fingers peeling off the condom and tossing it lamely to the side. all you can see past your wet lashes and teary eyes is markâs fist moving in an urgent blur before he cums all over your chest, the orgasm hitting him so hard that he has to grip the headboard to stabilize himself. his super strength causes it to splinter just slightly as his legs shake, so much so that he can hardly hold himself up.
his cum paints your tits in hot, thick, pearly white strands, and mark clambers up from over you to lay down on the other side of the bed. you find it unfair, the way that heâs panting and shaking much less than you, but you donât comment. you just stare up at the ceiling, the sound of your breathing filling the air.
âi hope that was good,â mark says earnestly, rolling lazily onto his side to look at you. you take another deep, grounding breath, then turn your head to look at him. your arm comes out too weakly to swat at his chest.
âthereâs no way you just asked me that when your cum is drying on my chest.â
mark stares at you for a moment, then busts out into a fit of laughter, reaching behind his head to take the pillow so he can drop it casually onto your face. you canât help but laugh too, arms coming up to shield yourself from the pillow, and you toss it back to mark where he catches it, then tucks it back under his head. âfuck me for trying to make sure youâre okay, i guess,â he says dramatically, rolling his eyes.
you flip over onto your stomach and bunch the pillow up under your chin, careful to ignore the wet parts of your chest as you widely grin and quip back. âi just did.â
âmore like the other way around. this was me fucking you. into the mattress, might i add.â mark grins mischievously and reaches out to place his hand on your lower back, smoothing over your ass before dipping between your legs to find your folds. he trails his fingers up and down your wet and puffy slit, tongue darting out to wet his lips when he feels you shiver in reply. âbut we can go again with you on top if you wanna fuck me. not like iâd ever say no to that. plus, itâd answer one of my questions.â
youâre part your lips to reply, but the sound of feet padding up the stairs, partnered with a soft call of markâs name, makes you both freeze exactly where youâre at. you look at each other in panic, then scramble to get rid of the proof of what you two just did. mark leaps off the bed and onto his feet with impressive athleticism, tossing you your discarded copy of seance dog that you catch effortlessly with one hand. you tug your t-shirt down over your chest, ignoring the fact that thereâs still cum on it youâve hardly wiped off, and he busies himself with pulling his pants back up and slipping his t-shirt on. the fact that itâs still damp around the collar doesnât matterâ not when thereâs much more incriminating evidence like his used condom on the bed, alongside the wrapper and the new one he was about to use on you again ten seconds ago.
you barely manage to get under the covers to hide your lower half by the time debbie opens the door, your shorts haphazardly kicked under the bed, and your panties in markâs pocket. you double-check to make sure your comic isnât upside down and open it to a random page, holding it as inconspicuously as possible, right in front of your face. markâs hands are stuffed into his pants, the condoms and the wrapper fisted tightly in his hands.
âhey, you two,â debbie says sweetly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. you swear, even if you two didnât look suspicious as hell, debbie would still be looking at you two like she knows you did something wrong. âjust came to let you know that dinner is ready. and that you two shouldnât stay up too late tonight. iâm driving you two back to campus early, so i can get to work on time.â
mark smiles tightly. âokay, mom, thanks,â he says, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave at her goodbye. debbie eyes him amusedly, taking in both of your disheveled appearances one more time before nodding and moving to close the door.
âoh, and mark? itâs been a long time coming, so i donât mind if you two are having sex, as long as itâs safe and i donât have to worry about becoming a grandma.â
the color drains from both of your faces, but debbie only laughs, a smile as sweet as her sonâs spreading across her face. âbut next time, if youâre gonna try and hide it, make sure the panties are tucked all the way into your pocket. iâm not judging what youâre into, but itâs kind of a dead giveaway when blue lace is halfway hanging out of your sweatpants.â
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ď¸Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #622 )â
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My name is Adham, I'm 20 years old, and I'm from Gaza City. I dreamed of a happy life, completing my studies, and getting a job, but the war turned this dream into something impossible đđ. We lived through this massacre in all its painful details, and we're still in pain đ. We were very happy when the ceasefire was announced, and we returned to our homes in northern Gaza after being displaced for a year and a half in a tent in the southern Gaza Strip. After we fixed a small room in our destroyed house to live in and start over, unfortunately the war returned stronger than before đ. Now, we have no shelter and no source of income. We exhausted all our savings during the war. I know that I started my campaign very late, but that's because there is no other way to help my family đ. I am completely confident and optimistic that someone here will help us as much as they can and save my family in these difficult circumstances đ.





I know that the feeling of starting from scratch is painful and frustrating, but I hope to receive any amount for my family đĽşđ.
Even a small donation would have a great impact on us đĽş. May God bless you, my friend đĽ°â¤ď¸.
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i need him so bad its concerning at this point
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i know you like some good old Morgan x reader fics
so hear me out, in the early seasons we see Morgan do a lot of stunts and stuff, like s1e12 where he and Hotch stop that fist fight?
imagine, reader and Morgan are pretty early on in their relationship, but reader is staying over at morganâs or something
reader uses the bathroom during the night and derek wakes up, not quite that sharp yet and he thinks thereâs an intruder or something so we end up with derek tackling reader or something when they come back, leading to somewhat of a ridiculous situation, because reader is half asleep, literally just had to use the loo and suddenly theyâre on the ground with their boyfriend having not quite realised who heâs pinning down and in the end itâs like, well, that was kind of hot, but please donât do that again
Gotcha, Punk!

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Gn! Reader
Word count: 1.1k+
DNI: All are welcome!
Author's note: This is such a good idea, i hate you, why didn't i think of this?? This is definitely one of my shorter fics soo i apologize for that.. ( Ëŕˇ´Ë )
Still, as always, all feedback is appreciated!! Hope you enjoy ( Ë ÂłË)âĽ

Creak.
Derekâs eyes snapped open.
Creak. Againâslower this time, like someone was trying not to be heard.
At first, there was only the dark.
Not cozy, blanket-dark. No. This was the thick, swampy kind. Heavy across his chest, clinging to the walls, warping the shape of every coat hook and bookshelf into something not-quite-right. The curtains stirred slightlyâno windâand shadows from the tree outside jittered across the ceiling like restless fingers.
He held his breath.
Silence.
Too much of it.
The fridge wasnât humming. The heater hadnât kicked in. No faint upstairs pipes clanking in protest. It was the kind of silence that doesnât sootheâit listens. That primal kind of quiet that precedes something awful.
Thenâ Creak.
The precise one outside the bathroomâthat floorboard. The one that always squeaked unless you stepped on it just right.
Morgan hadnât stepped on it.
You were still in bed. Youâd dozed off curled into his chest, snoring like a kitten with allergies. If you were up, he would've felt it. And that step hadnât been yours. Too heavy. Too slow.
That wasnât the fridge. That wasnât the neighborâs cat. That wasnât anything normal. That was a âget your ass stabbedâ kind of sound.
He sat up fast, sheets hissing against the mattress, breath locked tight in his chest. Years of habit sent his hand flying toward the nightstandâ
Gun? Gone. Badge? Not even close. All he found was a glass of water and the sad realization that this was the one night heâd let himself go off duty completely.
Hydrate or die-drate, youâd said with a grin. And now here he wasâhydrated and about to square up with a ghost, barefoot and half-naked in his own damn house.
Another soundâa soft, almost polite shuffle. Then the quiet click of the bathroom door.
Derek froze.
Nah. Nope. You donât just pick my house to rob. Not this house. Not with me in it. You think youâre gonna sneak in here, steal my TV, maybe grab a chocolate bar on the way out and leave like itâs DoorDash? Not happening.
He moved like instinct. Muscle memory. Silent, precise, deadly. His feet glided over hardwood. His breathing slowed. Even his heartbeat seemed to hold its rhythm.
Iâve tackled unsubs through barbed wire fences, strip malls, and onceâonceâduring a bouncy castle birthday party. You think I wonât throw hands in my own damn hallway? In my socks?
As he moved, the fridge whinedâa sudden mechanical sighâand Derek nearly elbowed it on reflex.
He hissed under his breath.
God, I need to sleep more. Or maybe less.
A flash of a memory hit himâChicago. An unsub had broken into a familyâs home at 3 a.m., left the husband unconscious, and tied the mother up in her own bathroom. Morgan had shown up too late to stop the bruises from forming. That womanâs terrified eyes had been burned into his memory for years.
He wasnât going to be late tonight.
The bathroom door creaked open.
A silhouette stepped out. Backlit. Slow. Unaware.
Gotcha, punk.
He surged forward in one flawless motionâtackle clean, grip tight, momentum precise. Years of FBI training kicked in as he brought the figure down, pinning them to the floor with a practiced hand and a sharp growlâ
âGotcha, punkââ
âTHE HELLâ?!â
There was a pause.
A beat of silence.
A very familiar groggy voice.
Your voice.
Derek blinked down, and sure enoughâ
There you were.
Hair sticking out in all directions, t-shirt bunched awkwardly around your waist, blinking slowly at him like a confused owl. You squinted up at him, one arm pinned, the other flopped dramatically beside you.
ââŚBabe?â you asked, voice hoarse from sleep, face squished against the tile. âCan we, I dunno⌠cuddle in bed and not on the bathroom floor?â
Derek froze.
Like a statue. Like a dumbass. Like a dumbass statue.
ââŚOh my God,â he breathed, eyes wide, pupils dilating in horror. âBaby. Baby, Iâm so sorry. I thoughtâI thought you wereâJesus, are you hurt? Are you okay?!â
You blinked up at him again, unimpressed.
âI woke up to pee, Derek.â
âI tackled you.â
âYou tackled me.â
âI tackled my partner.â
âTo the floor.â
âYeah.â
A long pause.
ââŚYâknow whatâs fun?â you said, eyes still mostly closed. âThis tile is cold, and my spine hurts.â
That did it. Derek immediately scrambled to gather you into his arms like heâd just drop-kicked a newborn puppy.
âNononono, come hereâGod, Iâm such an idiot. I didnât seeâI wasnât awakeâfuck, I tackled you. Oh my God. Youâre never sleeping over again.â
You let him scoop you up bridal-style, but your face was already pressed against his shoulder, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at your lips.
âI canât wait to tell Garcia.â
That made him pause mid-carry. âYou wouldnât.â
You yawned. âOh, I would. Iâll tell her you yelled âGotcha, punkâ like a Saturday morning cartoon villain while I was barefoot and half-blind.â
Derek groaned. âYouâre evil.â
âAnd you love it.â
He deposited you onto the bed like you were made of glass and his own unrelenting shame. He fussed over youâpulling the blanket up, tucking it beneath your chin, running his hands over your arms like he expected to find bruises.
âYou sure youâre okay? Your back? Your neck? Baby, I couldâveâGod, I didnât mean toââ
You silenced him with a kiss. Lazy, warm, still sleep-drenched but affectionate.
âIâm fine,â you murmured. âThoughâŚâ You tugged him down beside you, a teasing glint in your eyes. âThat was kinda hot.â
He blinked. âHot?â
You grinned. âI mean, you did tackle me to the floor with surgical precision. Bit much for a midnight cuddle, but the form? Chefâs kiss. Nine outta ten.â
â...Nine?â
âLost a point for trying to arrest me.â
Derek buried his face in your hair with a groan. âI hate how much youâre enjoying this.â
âOh, come on, babe. Weâve had like two fights and neither involved a full-body takedown before tonight. Milestone achieved.â
âYouâre never letting me live this down.â
âTop three most dramatic Morgan moments. Number one: tackling your half-naked partner. Number two: yelling âGotcha, punkâ like youâre on an old cop show. No, I'm not letting you live this down.â
A long beat. You were drifting now, warm and safe in his arms, your breathing slowing.
Then, quietly, casually:
ââŚIf you do wanna pin me down again thoughâŚâ
Derek pulled the blanket over your head. âGo to sleep.â
Your muffled voice replied from beneath it:
âLove you, too.â
.
.
.
âI still need to pee by the way.â
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fuck israel, fuck donald trump, fuck elon musk, fuck ICE and everyone who supports it.
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Things smoke&stack would say to you
***Smoke***
⢠âjust tell me what you need prettyâ
⢠âyouâre my dream girlâ
⢠â only got eyes for my girlâ
⢠âyou need to be patient babyâ
⢠âlet me hold you in my armsâ
⢠âanything for youâ
⢠âyou and money my only prioritiesâ
**Stack**
⢠âtalk to me mamaâ
⢠âI just want the soft life for youâ
⢠âwhatâs mine is yoursâ
⢠â so many people around me and Iâm only thinking of youâ
⢠âyouâll always be my babyâ
⢠â havenât seen you all day, I might pass outâ
⢠âeverything reminds me of youâ
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
(Yâall go easy on me idk if this is good or not đ)
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Just a heartbreaking reminder that Smoke follows through on his promises too.
When Annie makes Smoke promise to free her before she turns, he looks down at the thrown bonesâunsure of what they meanâand asks, âWhat you mean, free you?ââflinching when Annie takes the stake from him and presses it to her chest, right over her heart.
Although her fate is already sealedâand sheâs made peace with the thought of joining their daughter on the other sideâSmoke, ever the protector, still assures her: âIâm going to make sure you get home safe.â
And Smoke does. He stakes her after sheâs bitten by Stackâkeeping his word by not letting her turn, and making sure she gets home safe. Not to the home they once shared, but home to the ancestorsâhome to their daughter.
Letâs not forget that when Annie reminds Smoke of their promiseâhe doesnât hesitate, he doesnât question her, he doesnât ask if sheâs sure. He just tells her that he loves her. She doesnât have to pull those words out of him this timeâhe gives them freely. And in doing so, he frees them both.
Itâs admirable that even though it breaks his heart, Smoke loves, trusts, and respects Annie so deeply that he chooses to honor her final wish.
I pray that weâre all blessed enough to find a love unselfish enough to follow throughâeven when the asks are hard.
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Ooh how about vibrator play w frank castle? Maybe sitting w your back to his chest as he just gets you off over n over bc you got all needy/bratty?
Absolutly love the way you write btw đŤśđŤś
frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, vibrator use, overstimulation, age gap (20s/40s) a/n: thank you so much! i think i saw heaven when i read this request <3
"hold still, baby," his deep voice rumbled against your jaw, "gotta hold still for me. can't make you feel good if you're running away."
your entire body shuddered in his lap. you almost missed the words. they ran together when your mind felt soft and hazy with pleasure like this. they also sounded distant when the buzz of the toy whirred down below. that strong, consistent vibration made everything else fade away.
it wouldn't have really mattered if you spaced what he said anyways. the words were empty. meant to tease you more than anything else. you couldn't get away right now if you wanted to. not with the way he had your thighs pinned open. one of his thick arms wrapped around your waist while his free hand held the small, thrumming cylinder between your legs.
he kept it still for the most part, letting the toy do its job. every so often he would move it. he'd draw small circles on your bundle of nerves or slide it downward like he planned on stuffing it inside your dripping hole.
the sensation caused your hips to buck. your heels dug into his thighs, sliding on the denim covering them as you fruitlessly tried to squirm to nowhere. your back pressed against his chest while raucous whines erupted from you.
but despite the signs of you getting overwhelmed, he didn't take the toy off. he kept your little vibrator buzzing right up against you and planted a few kisses along your jawline.
"you gettin' close? that why you're all squirmy? cause you're gonna cum again?" he murmured.
your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you nodded wildly.
he smirked, though your eyes were too droopy to see that.
"so needy. you weren't lying about how bad you wanted me, huh?" he crooned.
your head shook back and forth now.
"well let it happen, honey. stop trying to run from it. let yourself feel good. that's what you were after," he said, subtly taunting towards the end.
his mocking tone did nothing to deter you. your release crashed into you with enough force to black out your vision. every muscle in your body quivered, contracting and relaxing as you hit the high for the third time in a row.
a moan seeped from your lips so loud that his hand flew up from your waist to clamp over your mouth.
"shh, shh, shh, sweet girl. can't have you waking up the whole floor, yeah?" he mumbled in your ear.
you didn't respond. your body continued to roll into the bliss before settling. there was a brief moment of reprieve following that - probably because your nerves were approaching numbness down there - but before you could catch your breath, that small toy was back on the most delicate part of your cunt. your eyes rolled back, your mind blanking in response to yet another round of white hot bliss starting up.
"no- mmph- no more, frank," you whined as his hand fell from your mouth to grope at one of your breasts.
"no, you're not done yet. i know you. i turn this thing off now, and in fifteen minutes you'll be pawing at my shorts," he teased.
"i won't," you begged, lip wobbling, "i won't. promise. it's too much."
"too much? you gettin' tired? that cute little pussy ready to tap out for me?" he cooed.
"uh huh," you moaned.
"yeah? s'funny cause when i came home and told you i was tired, you didn't wanna stop, did you?" he said.
you groaned already knowing where this was going. "frankie-" you started to plead, but he cut your cry short.
"yeah. told you my muscles were aching, my back's all stiff-"
"thought you were just being an old man," you pouted, cutting him off right back.
as soon as the words exited your mouth, his thumb on the vibe tapped the button to crank up the speed. the buzzing grew louder and the tiny rod shook in his grasp with more force. you yelped, your body jerking and then melting on top of him.
"don't be a smartass or we'll be here for a while," he muttered, kissing your cheekbone, "you knew what you were doing, begging like that even when i told you to quit it. this is exactly what you wanted."
you turned your head, nuzzling your face against his throat as if the crook of his neck could provide you some form of escape. your body trembled on his lap, though it was totally motionless otherwise. your limbs felt like jelly, and your mind didn't fare much better. whimpers oozed from your lips without restraint.
"that's better," he praised, "just cum again for me, baby. one more time. give me a good one and it might be the last."
ragged breaths puffed from your lips. your chest heaved with the exertion. you knew your next release was coming whether you wanted it or not. it bordered on painful, but the all-consuming sensation overtook you just the same.
this time you reacted with less intensity. you weren't as loud, most of your noises remaining breathy and drawn out. your body didn't jerk. instead you spasmed with the euphoria flooding your senses.
he worked you through it, swiveling the point of the vibrator over your clit with precision. his hand guided it through your slick. it stayed on you until the last of your tremors melted into bursts in the aftershock.
finally then, when you were wriggling and whining, grabbing at his wrist without any semblance of a coherent word coming from you, he pulled it away. that same button he used to up the speed, he hit again and turned it off.
he dropped it to the side. it could be cleaned up later. right now, his attention stayed on you. his strong arms squeezed you before shifting your body around to sit more comfortably against his chest.
a couple kisses landed on your forehead. his fingers massaged the nape of your neck, coaxing your mind out from the slush of post-release and back to lucidity with him. you blinked slowly while gazing up at him with your glazed eyes.
"you gonna be able to walk to bed, or do i gotta help you?" he mocked.
you pouted with annoyance this time, lightly jabbing him with your elbow. "i got it," you whimpered before slowly rising and taking a few uncertain steps.
he huffed out a laugh at the display, patting your ass as he stood up to follow your lead.
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Should I start writing yâall ? ..mm idk that sounds intimidating


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Stack x introvert! reader moodboard(modern)






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Darry x gf!reader moodboard




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