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woman kisser scarlett is finally home!!!!! YES CAPTAIN

hello the way she looks at her wife????

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yall captain daddy nat freaking the fuck outta her gf with a breeding kink coming your way soon…🙂‍↔️

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there’s something about soft Nat that makes my heart swell with so much love that it almost hurts.

to think that she'd only save her vulnerable side for the people she really trusts while keeping her composure and appearing tough in front of the public makes so much sense to me...

to everyone else and especially to the civilians who just see her as the “black widow,” she’s this formidable, intimidating woman who’s swift and dangerous—a woman who can kill with just her bare hands and scare men with a mere glare.

but to the avengers? especially Clint and Steve?

she’s a girl who wants to be loved and seen as a human who feels—as someone who’s more than just a weapon, more than just an asset… and a girl who needs love, care, and understanding.

but with her partner?

oh, especially then.

she allows herself to be vulnerable, and she lets go because she knows that you wouldn't judge—instead, you would embrace and love her not despite it, but because of it.

whenever she comes home to you after a heavy day, her eyes instinctively search for you. and when she does find you, she wordlessly goes up to you, gives you those tired but beautiful, soft jade green eyes, her pupils blown, and plops down beside you, leaning into your warmth like she was made to nestle there, because you're her safe place. she knows it, and she reminds herself that you are everyday like a mantra. like a little affirmation that keeps her going.

“missed you,” she'd whisper, her voice small but oh-so-trusting. and it's in moments like this, when she's tired, that you really adore her, not because she's too weak to handle herself, giving you the opportunity to do it for her, but because she allows you to as she shows you a side of hers that nobody else really gets to see. she wouldn't hesitate, wouldn't have second thoughts, wouldn't throw playful, declining glares at you... she would be so soft, so trusting, and willing to be taken care of by you.

and Natasha Romanoff is the kind of woman who craves control at any given moment. even if she can't take control, she will, and you know that. but during moments when she knows she's safe, especially with you, she'd temporarily give that up. and whenever you'd take care of her so carefully, so gently, and so lovingly, it would serve as a reminder to her that you'd always be there to cradle her when she needs it, and it means so much to her more than anything.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

this was supposed to be a short post but i kinda got carried away… oopsies, hehehe („• ᴗ •„)

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so we got a 10 year reunion of the hamilton cast before gta 6 😜😜😭😭

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mother is MOTHERING

criminal minds evolution 18 x 03

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serving face and hair and body and everything at a man’s funeral. emily prentiss the goddess that you are

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emily if being a lesbian was illegal

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— HANDLING EMILY — e.prentiss x female reader

PREMISE: You’ve always teased Emily Prentiss about being older. About how you could handle a woman like her—experienced, commanding, devastating. But when she finally calls your bluff and takes you home, you learn exactly what it means to be at her mercy.

WARNINGS: legal age gap, oral, mentions of spit and swallowing spit, choking, scissoring, pussy slapping (once), dom!Emily, sub!reader, older!Emily, face riding, degradation, possessive behaviour, breast biting/marking, slight aftercare.

WORD COUNT: 3K

𓏲𝄢 find my masterlists

You said you could handle an older woman. Emily’s about to make you prove it.

You never meant for it to actually happen—not at first. The teasing started as harmless flirting, the kind of half-sarcastic sass you knew you could get away with when Emily would sit across from you in the bullpen, sipping her coffee, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You’d always toss something her way. A cheeky smile. A cocked eyebrow. “Sure you’re not too old to keep up with me?” Or, your personal favorite: “Bet you were a wild one in the ‘90s.”

She always gave it back just as hard. “Keep dreaming, rookie.” Or, more recently: “You wouldn’t last a minute with me.”

But god, what she didn’t know—what she probably knew, honestly—was that you weren’t just playing around. You had it bad. Hopeless crush, heart-racing-in-elevators bad. She was everything: the streak of silver in her hair, the worn leather jackets, that unreadable gaze she had when she was pissed off and trying not to show it. You’d lie awake some nights thinking about what it would feel like to belong to someone like her. To have her ruin you, command you. Praise you—or not.

So when she invited you over for “a drink” after the team closed a case, and you said yes with a grin too wide to be innocent… you kind of knew. You both did.

Her house smells like sandalwood and dark wine and something faintly smoky—like old books and danger. You pretend to admire the furniture, all dark woods and soft fabrics, while she watches you over the rim of her glass. Still in her work slacks and button-down, sleeves rolled to her forearms. Hair tied back, but loose enough to say I’ve been thinking about this too.

“You know,” you say, walking your fingers along the edge of her bookshelf, “I always figured you’d taste like scotch and sin.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And what do you taste like?”

You smile. “Come find out.”

That’s what does it.

In two strides she’s in front of you, her glass abandoned. She doesn’t kiss you yet—just presses you against the bookshelf with her body, one hand coming to rest lightly on your throat. Not tight. Not yet. Just there.

Her voice is low and rough. “You’ve got a big mouth for someone who blushes when I so much as look at you.”

Your heart is hammering. Your whole body is heat. “Maybe I blush because I like when you look at me.”

Emily chuckles—dark and amused, like she’s already decided how this night ends. “Is that right?”

Then her hand tightens—not painfully, but with purpose. Her palm wraps around your throat just firm enough that your breath hitches. Her thumb traces up under your jawline. Your knees go weak instantly. She tilts her head, eyes glittering. “You said you could handle an older woman,” she whispers, voice right against your lips. “Prove it.”

She pulls you in by the throat and kisses you like she’s claiming you—slow, deliberate, devastating. Her tongue invades your mouth with the kind of confidence only time and power can give a woman. You melt against her, moaning softly, already undone and still fully clothed.

When she steps back, her hand still holding you, she nods toward the living room.

“Strip for me.”

You hesitate for half a second—more out of awe than fear. Then, you start to move.

The fire’s burning low in the background, casting flickering gold across the walls. You make a show of it for her, because you want to. Because she’s watching you with that amused, unreadable expression like she’s deciding whether to ruin you slowly or all at once. You slide your shirt over your head, letting your fingertips trace your own stomach before unhooking your bra. You peel off your jeans, slow and sensual, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

She licks her bottom lip. “You’ve done this before.”

“Not for anyone like you,” you breathe.

Her smile darkens. “Damn right you haven’t.”

She comes to you again—pressing you down onto the couch, climbing over you like a wolf cornering its prey. Her hands move over your body like she owns it, mapping every inch. She pauses when her fingers slip between your thighs and find you soaked.

“Jesus. Look at you.” She pulls your legs apart with one hand and settles between them, kneeling on the rug. “You’re dripping. Just from a little choking and dirty talk?”

You whimper, embarrassed and turned on beyond words.

She slaps your thigh, just once. “Answer me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She groans at that—whether it’s from the title or the mess between your legs, you can’t tell. “Fuck, you are a good girl,” she mutters. “Let’s see how good.”

Then her mouth is on you.

She licks you like she’s savoring something rare and expensive, tongue slow and flat and devastating. She keeps eye contact as long as she can, even as your hips buck and your fingers dig into the cushions. Her tongue flicks your clit with maddening precision, alternating with deep, slow strokes that make your stomach clench. She moans against you—like you taste like sin. Like she’s been hungry for this.

Your pussy is swollen, glistening, and fully exposed under the flickering light. She spreads you wider, her thumbs keeping you open so she can lap at every part of you. She spits once—deliberately—and drags her tongue through the mess she’s made.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” she says, voice wrecked, breath hot. “So wet and needy. This what you’ve been thinking about while you’re sitting at your desk? Humping your thighs like a needy slut, pretending it wasn’t for me?”

You sob. “Yes, yes—Emily, please—”

“Ma’am.” Her voice cuts through the haze like a blade.

“Yes, ma’am,” you gasp, thighs shaking. “Please, I—I’m gonna—”

She pulls away just before you fall.

Cruel.

You whine, reaching for her, but she grips your throat again, pushing you back into the couch cushions.

“You don’t come,” she snarls. “Not until I say. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you whimper, every nerve lit up.

Her fingers replace her tongue—two of them sliding in to the knuckle while her mouth goes back to your clit. She pumps slowly, curling, hitting a spot that has your hips jerking with every thrust.

You're gone. Undone. A mess beneath her.

And you’ve never felt more wanted in your life.

Emily watches you squirm—your legs trembling, pussy soaked, your whole body aching for the release she just denied. You’re flushed, panting, lips parted, caught in that blissful place between desperate and obedient.

She doesn’t ease up. Her fingers stay inside you, thrusting slow and deep, curling exactly where you need them, while her mouth toys with your clit in lazy, taunting licks. She knows what she’s doing. She’s watching the way your stomach tightens, the way your eyes flutter, how your hips fight to meet every thrust even though you're not allowed to come.

"You close again?" she asks, even though she already knows.

You nod frantically, mouth barely forming words. “Please, please—I can’t—I need to—”

Emily lifts her mouth, licks her lips, and gives you a low, almost mocking smile.

“Then come for me. Now.”

Her voice is like a spell. Your body obeys instantly.

It hits like a wave—sharp and hot and all-consuming. Your back arches off the couch, legs clenching around her shoulders, the pleasure wracking through you in relentless, shuddering pulses. You cry out, a broken, needy sound that makes her groan into you.

She doesn’t stop.

She fucks you through it, tongue flicking, fingers thrusting, dragging out your orgasm until it blurs into something even messier, your body twitching from oversensitivity. You can’t breathe. Can’t think. Your hands are gripping at nothing.

Finally—finally—she pulls back.

You’re left panting, dripping, thighs still twitching. Your pussy’s pink, puffy, still clenching from the aftershocks.

Emily brings her fingers to her mouth—slick and shiny—and licks them clean, one at a time. She moans at the taste, slow and deliberate.

“God,” she mutters, “you taste even better than I imagined.”

Then, without warning, she leans in and pinches your clit—sharp and fast.

You jolt. “F-fuck—Emily!”

Before you can recover, her palm slaps your pussy once—a wet, loud sting that makes your hips jerk and your eyes go wide.

She grins darkly. “Just making sure you remember who made you come like that.”

You’re still catching your breath when she moves up your body, climbing on top of you with the same effortless power that’s been driving you wild all night. Her mouth latches onto your breast without warning—hot, open-mouthed kisses that turn into biting. Her teeth graze your nipple, then she sucks hard, making you arch in a sharp mix of pain and pleasure.

“Sensitive?” she murmurs, eyes flicking up to watch your reaction. “Too fucking bad.”

She does it again. And again. Alternating sides, biting, sucking, marking you as thoroughly as she claimed your cunt. Your nipples throb, swollen and red, but you never ask her to stop. You don’t want her to.

You’re already shaking again when she finally pulls back.

Then she stands up.

And slowly—so slowly—she starts to undress.

The way she peels off her button-down is obscene. Her eyes never leave yours as she slides it from her shoulders, revealing toned arms, a black lace bra, and the kind of quiet confidence that makes your stomach flip. She undoes her belt next, tugging her slacks down over her hips—no underwear beneath.

Her body is stunning. Real. Experienced. Power and sex wrapped in one devastating package.

She unhooks her bra last, letting it fall to the floor, and tosses it aside like she already knows she won’t be needing it again tonight.

“Lie back,” she commands. “And keep your mouth open.”

You do.

She straddles the couch again, but this time it’s your face she’s hovering over.

You don’t even get a warning.

She grinds down onto you—wet, hot, already soaked—and grabs the back of your head, holding you in place. Her scent is intoxicating. You moan into her, tongue immediately finding her clit, licking her like you were born for it.

Emily groans—deep and raw—as she starts to move. Her hips roll against your face, using you like her own personal toy. You flick your tongue faster, sucking her clit when she rocks forward, flattening it when she tilts her hips back.

“Just like that,” she pants. “Fucking god, baby. Don’t stop.”

She leans back slightly, one hand in your hair, the other gripping the armrest for balance. Her thighs are tight around your head. Her moans grow louder, sharper, filthier.

“You love this, don’t you? Love being used like this—face full of my pussy, tongue fucking me like a desperate little whore.”

You moan in response, tongue plunging deeper, licking up every drop she gives you. She tastes incredible—musky, sweet, intense. You press your hands to her ass, pulling her down harder, letting her grind against your tongue however she wants.

Her movements get rougher, more erratic. She’s close.

“So fucking good,” she growls. “Gonna come all over your face, baby. Gonna soak you.”

And then she does.

Emily cries out, voice cracking, thighs trembling. She grinds down hard, riding your mouth through her orgasm, hips jerking with each wave. You drink her in, moaning into her cunt, loving every second of being her personal plaything.

She finally goes still—shaky, flushed, breathless—and looks down at you with a wicked smile.

“Now that’s how you prove you can handle an older woman.”

Emily’s still above you, her body glistening with sweat, her chest rising and falling fast as she catches her breath. Her thighs are still slightly trembling where they straddled your face, but there’s a grin on her lips—feral, proud. You made her come. Hard. But she’s far from done.

She leans down, kissing you deeply, not caring that her own slick is still wet on your chin. If anything, it turns her on more. Her tongue pushes past your lips with purpose, tasting herself on you, groaning when you moan into her mouth. The kiss is messy, needy—more animal than anything else. It’s tongues and teeth and heat.

Then, without a word, she pulls you up into her lap—managing to keep control of the moment even as your legs wrap around her waist. Her hands are firm at your hips, guiding you as she lowers both of you onto the rug in front of the fireplace, the flames throwing flickering amber light across your skin.

She shifts, and suddenly her thigh presses between yours—and you realize what she’s doing. You gasp.

“Oh my god—Emily…”

She hushes you with a kiss to your throat. “You said you could take me,” she murmurs. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

She positions her legs, and yours, until your pussies align—slick, sensitive, bare skin pressed to bare skin. You both inhale sharply at the first touch—hot, swollen, aching.

You grind forward first. Tentative. Exploring.

Emily exhales, slow and low. “There you go. That’s it, baby.”

You keep moving—rubbing yourself against her, your soaked folds sliding against hers, clits brushing and catching, slick noises mixing with your broken gasps. Emily grabs your waist, meeting every grind with one of her own, panting, her eyes locked on yours.

You’re nose to nose. Chest to chest. Wet and wild and completely, deliciously lost in it.

She kisses you again—sloppier now, desperate—and as your moans tangle in each other's mouths, she reaches up and grabs your jaw, tilting your head back.

“Open your mouth.”

You do, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

She leans in, tongue barely out—and lets a thick strand of spit drip from her mouth into yours.

You swallow it without hesitation, moaning like it’s the filthiest, hottest thing in the world.

Emily’s eyes go dark.

“You really are my perfect little slut,” she breathes, before her hand wraps tight around your throat again. This time firmer. Possessive.

The pressure makes your vision blur around the edges, makes every rub of your body against hers so much more intense. She’s grinding up harder now—her hips relentless, chasing that edge again. And you’re right there with her, every nerve ending on fire, soaked and shaking and completely hers.

“Come with me,” she growls, tightening her hand just slightly as her pace quickens. “Let me feel you.”

Your body gives in first—heat rushing through you like a lightning strike, thighs trembling, pussy pulsing, mouth wide open but no sound coming out as you collapse into her. But Emily doesn’t stop. She thrusts against you one more time, lets out a choked groan, and her whole body stiffens beneath you as she comes with a low, breathless moan right into your neck.

You both stay there, tangled, gasping, foreheads pressed together.

Chest to chest.

Pussy to pussy.

Still pulsing.

Still connected.

Eventually, she loosens her grip on your throat and strokes your cheek instead, her thumb brushing gently across your lips.

“That,” she says, still catching her breath, “was only round one.”

And judging by the look in her eyes?

You believe her.

Even though her voice was still rough with dominance—“That was only round one”—her touch changes almost immediately afterward.

You’re still straddling her, still tangled up in heat and heartbeat and sweat, your body soft and pliant against hers, when she lets out a long breath. Her hand slips from your throat to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheekbone with surprising gentleness.

“You okay?” she murmurs.

You nod, still dazed. “More than okay…”

Emily kisses your temple, slow and grounding. Then she lifts you carefully off her lap, guiding you down onto the rug beside her. You watch her body move as she stands—graceful, still naked, still so stunning it makes your throat tighten.

But this time, she’s not stalking. She’s not commanding.

She disappears down the hall for a minute. You hear a faucet running. When she comes back, she’s got a warm, damp towel in one hand and a softer look in her eyes.

“Don’t move.”

You don’t.

She kneels between your legs and begins to gently clean you up—slow strokes between your thighs, catching the mess of both your orgasms with careful precision. It should feel embarrassing, being spread out and wiped down like this—but somehow, with her, it doesn’t. It feels intimate. Reverent, even.

“You were incredible,” she says softly, pressing the towel against your inner thigh one last time. “You took everything I gave you.”

You look up at her, eyes hazy, lips parted. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

She smirks, but there’s warmth behind it now. “I know.”

She rises again and tosses the towel into a nearby hamper, then offers you her hand. You take it, and she pulls you up into her arms. She doesn’t bother redressing yet—just walks with you, skin to skin, back to the bedroom, where she peels back the covers and lets you climb in first.

Then she slips in beside you, spooning behind you, her arm wrapped firm and protective around your waist.

You’re sore. Spent. Blissed out. And entirely, completely hers.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you feel her mouth brush against the back of your shoulder, and you hear her whisper:

“Next time, I’m tying you up.”

And god help you—your exhausted body still shivers at the thought.

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CRIMINAL MINDS: EVOLUTION 18.03 "Time to Say Goodbye"

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Prentiss has changed a lot over 16 seasons, but she still makes the same face when she’s decided to be no man’s peace…

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this might be the closest thing to domestic jemily we’ll ever get.

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WRAP IT UP ALREADY

Anyone else sick of Voit in evolution? Wish they’d go back to villain of the week, at least for a bit. We’ve had 3 seasons of the same dude

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Ma'am, you did not need to serve this hard.

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funeral emily is my religion

EMILY PRENTISS Criminal Minds 18.03 | Time to Say Goodbye

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Babies

Pairings: older!emily prentiss x younger!r (Emily is early 50’s and R is around 26)

Word count: 1977

Warnings: angst, kidnapping mentions, mental exhaustion, age gap, breeding kink, slight belly bulge kink, mentions of masturbation, slight oral (r receiving), intersex!emily, p in v, cumming inside

Emily got on the jet to head back home, quickly wiping her eyes before anyone could see her emotions. This was one of the toughest cases she faced, and she knew it would be the moment Garcia mentioned there were children involved. It brought out this deep maternal side of her she never really got to use considering she spent her prime years working herself to grey hair. Now she was in her early fifties with only dreams and regrets of the life she could’ve had compared to the one she did. She loved her friends that she called family, and she loved her beautiful girlfriend, but there was just something missing.

JJ sat across from her and tapped the table, making Emily zone back into reality as she was faced with the blonde woman who held a concerned gaze.

“Hey, you okay? I know this case was..rough, trust me, it was on all of us.” JJ said, trying to coax her friend into talking but Emily scoffed under her breath.

“I’m not a mom, it shouldn’t affect me this much.” She looked up when she heard the other woman’s laugh, as if the statement was absurd.

“Are you serious? We just saved multiple innocent little kids under the age of ten from being slaughtered to death. They will never be the same again, Emily, and you are allowed to mourn that for them.”

“…I just wish I could’ve protected them more, I don’t know. I know we protected them, I know we saved them from literal death, but I just wish I could’ve done more.” Emily said with regret, looking out the window as she leaned her head back on the chair, not wanting to face the tightness swelling in her throat.

“We all do. But there’s nothing you could’ve done to stop him from taking those kids, you saved them..give yourself some credit, okay? Don’t beat yourself up over what you couldn’t have done and just think about going home and finally getting some rest.” JJ said to lighten the mood, adding a small chuckle at the end as Emily followed, but she wasn’t finding anything funny. She just wanted to be with you, you knew how to make her feel okay. Her friend was trying her best, and she was doing a good job, she’ll admit, but all Emily needed right now was you.

And when the BAU Chief got home that night she knew you’d be asleep, but yet she was still holding out hope that you were somehow waiting for her, fully awake and ready to care for her needs. It was selfish, maybe, but she needed to be right now. She entered your shared bedroom and found you peacefully sleeping in one of her old band t-shirts and shorts, making her smile at the sight. She did everything as normal, showered, got dressed, brushed her teeth, all before lying in bed behind you and wrapping her arms around you. She thought she could wait until morning to talk to you, but she proved herself wrong when she broke out into a gutterful sob, her body shaking as she clung onto you tightly. You slowly arose, turning around to face her as you went from barely awake to concerned in mere seconds.

“Hey, hey, Em, talk to me, what’s going on?” You worriedly spoke, sitting up right as she followed, and one hand fell on her lower back as the other came to her shoulder. “Why don’t we take some deep breaths together, okay? Breathe in…and breathe out. Follow me, baby - breathe in…and breathe out…” You repeated this for a few minutes until her sobs turned into gentle cries, her chest now slowly rising and falling at a normal rate.

“Are you ready to talk or do you need some time?” She shook her head no and didn’t say anything else, and so you presumed she wasn’t yet ready to speak. “That’s alright, I can wait. I’ll just tell you about my day, hopefully that’ll get your mind off of things. Well, first I woke up with a text from my awesome girlfriend and that made my whole day better. Then I got up and went to the store and guess who was working there? Sam! Remember him? From the gym? He was that guy who- never mind, it doesn’t matter. Anyways, I was shopping as usual when I realized, I forgot my wallet! So then-“

“I want a baby.” She cut you off, yet you could almost not make out her tiny, whispered voice that was held with a shakiness.

“C-come again?” You stuttered, almost sure you heard the words correctly but not wanting to get your hopes up.

“I said: I want a baby. I’m getting old, Y/N, I have spent my entire life just working and working and I always thought, ‘oh, I’ll have one eventually’. I can’t keep waiting, I-..I need one and I need to have one as soon as possible.” She glanced up at you and slowly sat up, gulping nervously in fear of how you’d react. When she saw a smile break out on your face, she let out a breath she was holding.

“You have no idea how badly I want a baby with you, Em. But-“ She shook her head and cut you off.

“No, no, my love, there’s no buts! Let’s just have one!”

“But we’re not even married.”

“So? Y/N, I swear to spend the rest of my life devoted to you and only you - well, our baby too. We don’t need a stupid license to be happy, all I need is you and our baby!” You sighed, unable to resist her tempting gaze as you obliged, giving her a small nod to which she quickly pounced on you, laying you down on the bed and making you yelp, only to be cut off by her lips connecting with yours. She was smiling against you, feeling as if her dreams had been achieved. She pulled back when her oxygen was low, cupping your cheeks and staring at you with the utmost gratitude.

“When are you ovulating?”

“Uh, yesterday.”

“Okay, good, we’re still in the perfect timeframe.” Emily muttered as she lowered her boxers and hurriedly pulled off her shirt before doing the same to yours and glancing up at you for permission before your shorts were removed. She trailed kisses down your neck to your chest, licking your nipples ever so softly as she heard a sigh of relief and felt your hand fly to her hair.

“Mm, you’ll look even more perfect - these breasts swollen and heavy, leaking so much..” She chuckled, clearly aroused at the thought. You felt your nipple being playfully tugged by her teeth, and she spent a few more minutes gathering your deepened satisfaction before approaching your cunt. Two fingers were used to gather your slick, creating a lubricant for herself. Her tongue found your clitoris, and her free hand found her cock, stroking her length into further erection. She was powered off of your moans, working to get you off, and she knew she was doing well when she watched your head lull back and heard your whispered repetitions of her name. She watched your fingers tease your nipples, missing the way she was doing so earlier, and she couldn’t help but groan into you.

“Just like that..fuck, I need your cock, Emily, I need you to fill me up.” You pleaded, and she didn’t waste any time in giving your sensitive bud one last kiss before pulling away, and then lining up her penis with your hole. You bit your lip as she slowly entered you, your hand clasping tightly with hers for support. She leaned down to kiss along your neck, sucking along your pulse points to leave generous marks.

“There we go, you’re okay..you’re alright, sweetheart. You let me know when you’re ready for me to move, okay? There’s no rush.” Emily assured you, and you nodded to her words. You were generally a bit tighter than most so she’d have to go easy with you considering her girth, but you would always communicate your needs properly which she loved. And when she got the approval, she slowly began thrusting in and out, causing moans from both of you.

“I’ve thought about you all fucking week, Y/N. I didn’t want to bother you, but I just couldn’t fucking stop…” She whimpered, remembering all the nights she spent in her hotel room with her hand around her throbbing penis, and her lips uttering your name as her orgasm would erupt. She couldn’t entirely blame herself though, she was faced with one of the hardest cases and was desperate for your soothing attention, and her mind only steered her differently when night rolled around.

“You’re never a bother to me- oh, shit! I- I mean it, don’t you ever think you can’t call me.” She nodded, her mouth lifting into a sly grin as she thought of future possibilities. Her hands fell to your thighs as she tried to keep them around her hips, forcing a new angle to be created as she heard a loud, deep moan come from you.

“Right there! D-don’t stop- don’t you dare stop!” You cried out, gripping onto the bed sheets beneath you for dear life, your jaw slacking open as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. She had found it before, yes, but it always made you feel such deep pleasure when your girlfriend's dick repeatedly thrusted against your g-spot.

“Yeah? You close already, huh? You gonna let me fill this tight little cunt up with my cum? You gonna let me make you a Mommy?” She knew the answer to that, of course it was a yes. Of course you wanted nothing more than to be filled with her semen and have her babies, but seeing your desperate nod only turned her on more. The bed shook beneath the two of you, the wall faced brutal abuse from the headboard hitting it repeatedly, and the sounds of your skin clapping together mixed with your sweet juices splashing against her length filled the room. She pressed a hand down on your stomach, watching as the just noticeable imprint returned and disappeared with every thrust she made.

“You see that, pretty girl? You see how deep I am inside you?” You looked down, groaning deeply at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re so big…please, baby, I want to feel you filling my womb up with your cum! I need it- I need your babies…” It was like you ticked a switch inside of her and she grabbed your knees, placing them together and hovering them over your chest as she could feel her balls slapping against your skin with every movement.

“Mhm, I’m gonna cum for you! And I- I need you to do the same for me too, okay? I want to feel it, baby, let me feel you cum around my fucking cock like the dirty girl you are- that’s it! Oh, you’re such a good girl…such a good little girl.” She grunted out, and seconds later she twitched as her semen spilled deep inside of you, filling your womb with every last drop she had. She loved feeling your release envelope her dick, it ensured her that you were just as pleased as she was.

“You think I got you pregnant?” She asked breathlessly, breaking the silence as you scoffed lightheartedly.

“After one go? We’ll need at least a few rounds before we can even consider it.” She smirked at your response, grabbing a hair tie from the bedside table and putting it on as she put your legs back around her waist and positioned herself correctly.

“Then I guess I’m not getting any sleep tonight.”

[morbidlcve]

obsessed 🤩

[morbidlcve]

EXACTLYYYY

little venting post but i can’t stand cm twitter, the blatant lesbophobia and the constant harassment of jemily shippers so thank you all for making this place a safe space i guess