#I thought this would be too short but it's quite long actually :

[saintsenara]

Why Harry being short and frail (or even petite and delicate) past puberty is such a popular take these days? Sure, he is not bulky, but don't we know from Voldemort himself that James was tall and don't we know that Harry was exactly the same height as James during the final battle? Don't we know that Harry works out 3 times a week and is generally athletic? Is it the same thing that is happening with fanon Sirius or is it something different? Is it because he was short as a child and grew up in a cupboard, thus unlikely to end up like he did at the end of the series? What do you think about it? How likely is it? I keep seeing it in many slash ships and I am genuinely baffled. Is it me who has it backwards? Please solve this mystery, dear Asenora!

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i think several things are at play, tbh - some of which are more understandable than others.

the first is that daniel radcliffe genuinely is short [for a british man, at least] - his height is given online as 165cm [or 5'5], but looking at pictures of him leads me to suspect that's an exaggeration - and was, unsurprisingly, even shorter when he was a teenager. many of the other actors in the films are much, much taller than him - especially people like alan rickman and david thewlis, both of whom were over six foot - and since the films inevitably influence how people picture the characters physically, the height differences we see on screen end up becoming part of that.

the second is that, while harry is described as "tall" in canon, that term appears to be doing a fair amount of heavy-lifting. numerous male characters are described as taller than him in both half-blood prince and deathly hallows - with the example which always stands out to me being the fact that fred and george weasley are said to "shrink" when they polyjuice into harry before the seven potters chase. fred and george - like charlie - are described in canon as being noticeably shorter and stockier in build than bill, percy, and ron. unless ron et al. are so tall that it would be thought of as really unusual - let's say above 6'6/198cm - harry probably isn't over 6'0/182cm tall.

thirdly, it's worth saying that what is meant by "tall" is culturally contingent. i've said that daniel radcliffe is shorter than average for a british man - and that's true - but his height isn't going to be thought of in that way in different parts of the world. similarly, there are parts of the world where describing a man who was, say, 5'10/178cm as "tall" would be considered quite strange - but i don't think the uk [where the average male height in 1998 was just over 5'8/174cm] is one of them. certainly, i picture harry as around that height [allowing characters like ron, sirius, dumbledore, and voldemort - who are all described as such - to be noticeably taller than him, but not so tall that their height would be considered abnormal], and i don't think it precludes him still being thought of as "tall" within the context in which he lives. but an author from, for example, the netherlands - where the average male height is 6'0.5/183cm - would probably think differently.

[there's a point about cultural contingency in the quip he makes about being short because of the cupboard too: i would read that as a dark joke which he doesn't actually think has any truth behind it specifically when it comes to his height, but which nonetheless expresses that the dursleys abuse him generally and this abuse has had a long-term impact upon him; readers from other parts of the world take it more literally.]

and finally, harry is definitely physically fit and - of course - works out a lot as part of playing quidditch, but both he and james are emphasised in canon as having slender builds - and it's also implied in the text that seekers are generally slim. harry doesn't need to be seen as any less sporty if we presume that he has the physique of a distance runner or triathlete rather than that of a sprinter.

however, there are definitely some aspects to the tendency for harry to be written as short and slender which do bother me a fair amount - and i do think that these have something in common with what we see with fanon sirius.

that is, that harry and sirius aren't written as short and slender because the author wants them to just happen to be short and slender. they're written as short and slender because the author wants them to be passive. their height/build is emphasised in the story in order to hammer this home - and it's often accompanied by them being assigned other aspects of physical appearance, personality, dress, or manner [especially ones which might be considered as "effeminate"] which, once again, aren't intended to communicate anything other than this passivity.

and - of course - in the writing of vast amounts of slash, any indication of passivity, submissiveness, or femininity - and the physical traits which end up equated with them - is taken as an indication that the character in question would be an exclusive - and submissive - bottom, who defers to the whims of their partner, an exclusive - and dominant - top.

and - unsurprisingly - topping ends up being associated with masculinity - and the personality traits and physical characteristics - above all a tall, muscular build - which are equated with that.

frail!harry seems to be most prominent - in my experience - in ships like tomarrymort, not so much because people really care about the implications of harry's characterisation, but because they're hugely opposed to the suggestion that characters like tom riddle would ever bottom [since - of course - they associate the act of being penetrated with femininity and femininity with weakness...]. great lengths have to be gone to, then, to emphasise that voldemort - or whoever else - is powerful and proud and authoritative and masculine and tall. and, for some reason, this is apparently incompatible with the idea that he might also like to get railed... which means that harry has to make sure nobody is in any doubt about who's the woman bottom by becoming as teeny tiny as he possibly can...

[bigfan-fanfic]

I'd Hammer in the Morning (Male!Reader x Thor)

Part One

"What do you mean, you're quitting?" Tony practically shouts.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say the Q-word."

"But you are."

"I... I'm going to be moving to Asgard, Tony. I can't be your personal assistant from a realm away."

Tony fidgets, swinging an arm in your direction. "A 'realm away?' Look how they've got you talking - you can say 'realm' with a straight face!"

"Please don't make this difficult." you try to get that stern but kind note in your voice that Frigga gets when managing Odin or Thor, but you don't quite get there.

"Fine, I won't. Recharge, I don't accept your resignation."

"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way."

"Don't care." Tony quips petulantly. When Pepper walks in, he immediately bursts out. "Recharge is quitting!"

Pepper smiles at you. "Yes, he is, and we're so excited for you. Congratulations, Y/N."

Tony's jaw drops.

"I know it's short notice, but Tony's going to host your goodbye party before you leave, if that's alright."

"I am?"

She silences him with a look. Oh, there it is.

"Fine, fine..."

And with that, after an all-too-wild party that Pepper does her best to manage, you're ready to leave Midgard as your primary residence.

Thor meets you atop the Avengers Tower, the burning runic circle etched into the helipad, little drones already trying to clear up the ash and cinders.

You run to his arms, excited to see him.

"Did you truly think I would not wish to witness every moment of your arrival to my home? Our home, now." Thor chuckles.

"No, I actually thought I was going to awkwardly have to call Heimdall."

You notice a few other Asgardians are here, glancing around interestedly. "Father is eager for your arrival. He assumed you'd have more... luggage. Insisted I bring porters."

You don't really have much more than a couple large suitcases and a few boxes to contain everything you own. Tony had insisted on digitizing all of your books and movies and games and ensuring you'd have communication and internet even on Asgard with a tiny prism he assured you had a copy of JARVIS on it for your use.

It's his way of showing he cares, because he can't go more than two sentences without snarking, by law, apparently.

"Wait... your father is eager for my arrival? I... I kinda thought Lord Odin wasn't too fond of Midgardians."

"No, he's not disdainful, simply... he worries about me. Our... lifespans."

You balk instinctively, the notion that Thor may long outlive you a little depressing. "Oh."

"But he seems to be much more open. So either he has a plan, or you have simply won him over as a mortal that can wield Mjolnir and learn my mother's seidr."

You do recall Odin becoming more warm to your presence, especially once you got over the hump of learning magic and started to transcend your electrokinesis. Frigga, of course, loves you. "A plan? To, like... deal with my lifespan?"

"Perhaps. Mother mentioned something about a coronation gift."

"Wow, all of this for your boyfriend? They're that eager to have me?"

"All of Asgard is eager. To be completely honest..." Thor chuckles, almost nervously. "I believe they expect a proposal soon."

"Oh." You chuckle a little, almost nervous as well. "And should they?"

"My prince... my king... you know this has been the greatest year of my life. I am more than eager to share all my days with you."

"Thor... I love you too."

"Then perhaps a proposal is not far off at all." He smirks. "Now, are you certain this is all your luggage?"

"Yes. Underwhelming, I know."

"Not at all. It simply means you will have plenty of room for the gifts I will shower you with."

You giggle. And then it hits you that you are truly leaving Earth. You frown softly, looking around as nostalgia crashes over you in waves.

"What ails you, my love?"

"Just... it's suddenly very hard to leave."

Thor takes you in his arms and kisses you. "I swear that as long as the Bifrost stands, I shall take you to Midgard whenever you wish."

You kiss him back. "You're sweet. But... it's just the change. It's always a big moment. But I'm not leaving home, not really. I'm coming home. To you. To Odin and Frigga. Even to Loki."

Thor grins. "Truly, you think of my misguided brother as your family?"

You nod. "Frigga and I have been taking lessons outside his cell lately as part of his rehabilitation."

His eyes shine with something surpassing gratitude and admiration.

"My king... allow me the honor of bringing you home."

And in a flash of rainbow and lightning, he does.

[smolandweirdwriter]

oh let me tell u i am so normal about adaine so here have a collection of some of my headcanons (that i can remember)

adaine starts dressing more "punk" in a sense because she lives with fig (totally not cause shes trying to remove herself from her goody two shoes appearance that her parents knew)

I also think this comes out of necessity as she doesnt have the money to buy new clothes if they get damaged so ends up sowing patches onto her clothes.

Adaine is the second tallest bad kid (after gorgug) at 5'11 simply because fabian is 5'10 and claims hes 6'0 (adaine is having none of it)

Adaine and tracker are still really close even after kristens breakup

She also has chronic fatigue which did not help her anxiety attacks. for most of her life she just believed she was lazy and not trying hard enough due to her parents thinking she was making excuses

Fig realizes at the beginning of Sophomore year that she really, really likes fun colors. She’s sick of all black. She wears bright red skirts and t-shirts of all colors and she smokes her cigarettes and dyes her hair and paints her nails pale pink and is uniquely, wildly, entirely herself. She doesn’t limit herself to a “rocker aesthetic”. Isn’t the whole point of rebellion to be you? 

Adaine’s style has changed so much. Partway through freshman year, she begins dressing as defiantly as possible. Whatever her parents would hate the most, Adaine wears. She borrows Fig’s clothes, which tend to be a bit too short and tight on her, but it’s all black with a leather skirt and ripped fishnets and her mother calls her a slut and her father forces her to go back to her room and change. Aelwyn mocks her for it over breakfast and Adaine stares at her food and doesn't wear fishnets or crop tops again.

(Aelwyn sneaks out that night wearing a similar outfit because she knows what her parents would say and the idea of the look on her mother's face being pointed at her is enough to terrify her to the point of nausea, and she drinks and drinks and drinks until she forgets to be afraid.)

Still, Adaine's style keeps changing. Sophomore Year it's mostly her Jacket of Useful things, t-shirts, and jeans. But as much as she hated being forced to wear the Hudol uniform, she really likes nice clothes. Junior Year she begins exploring more elven clothing: long skirts, vests with collared shirts, pleated blouses, breeches, tall boots, et cetera. She, Ayda, and Gorgug work together combining Wizardry and Artificing on her Jacket of Useful Things so that it can effectively transform into any coat/jacket/vest/etc to go with her outfit. It's perfect as her style is constantly shifting on a daily basis. 

This is just my thought on all of their heights, but here we go:

Riz is shortest, obviously. He’s actually average-height for a goblin, resting at about 3’6’’. 

Fig gives severe Tall Vibes, so much so that people forget she’s actually only 5’3’’. She wears boots that bring her up to about 5’5’’, but she’s still the second-shortest bad kid.

No one will let Fabian let down how short he is. He’s tried changing his diet, stretching, everything he can imagine—he’s still 5’4’’. It’s mortifying. Fig fits into his clothes perfectly.

Kristen has always felt somewhat ungainly, her limbs at different shapes and sizes, and she’d crash into things a lot. She’s always felt too much: too tall, too wide, too much, too much, too much. Junior Year she starts working out and begins getting comfortable with her body. Still, she’s tall, almost 5’10’’.

Adaine is quite tall, but her parents and sister are taller than her, and she’s spent her life feeling inescapably small. Her posture is good, but there’s something to the way she tilts her head, the general way she carries herself, hunching around a too-big orb and clutching books to her chest, that makes her look short and small. Sophomore Year, her confidence grows, she becomes more stable, and most importantly, she eats much more. She uncurls herself, and by the time she finds Aelwyn again, Aelwyn is horrified to see that her little sister looms over her. Adaine is 5’11.

Gorgug hunches over a lot, and it’s actually after becoming an Artificer that he gets better with his posture, because he’s sitting a lot more now and his back hurts if he hunches too much. His actual height is 6’5’’. He’s the tallest bad kid.

My personal headcanon is that Tracker also has anxiety and used to “wolf out” whenever she got overwhelmed. So she understands Adaine very well, perhaps better than anyone else. She understands the way Adaine’s anger stems from her fear, from her lack of control. Tracker helps her find the right anxiety meds and teaches her methods of working through and handling feeling overwhelmed.

When the bad kids see Nara and Tracker again in Fallinel, she introduces them all to Nara. “Ah,” Nara says as she and Adaine are introduced, and Adaine tenses for oracle, the daughter who killed Angwyn Abernant, the oracle who ran away, but what she’s met with was: “Tracker’s little sister.”

Adaine never tells Tracker how much it means. She loves Aelwyn, and Aelwyn loves her, but that love is something that has been asked for by both parties. Adaine never realized before that she shouldn't have to ask. 

[sillyunknownkitkat]

Type of writing : headcanons and 2 small drabbles.

Plot: Phillip and his s/o preparing and celebrating Christmas.

Tw: kinda fem-ish reader but still gn, tooth rotting fluff, Phillip being bullied by kids, a bit of angst but full comfort here dw, reader has parents. uncanny fake death situation of Phillip, reader cries.

Definitely loves cuddles on the couch and watching a movie with the fire cracking in the background.

This man loves Christmas. It's not so much all of the traditions and stuff, just you being really happy about this and the cosy ambience that it brings.

Also, he forces the shadows to wear Santa's hats.

I think he has a pretty sweet tooth, so it's one of his favorite seasons because you make him hot chocolate with little marshmallows when he gets back from work.

If you want to see his eyes lit up, then bring him a Christmas market/festival. Phillip's eyes WILL light up like kids' ones.

Now let me tell you something. This blondie can't skate at all. It's really funny to see.

And that being said, he gets bullied by the kids on the ice rink.

Still would go again if it means that you're happy.

Now, I don't want to baby him because he is a grown man, but please throw a snowball at him. I promise you that it's going to be the best snowball fight ever.

If you have played until down, you know what I'm talking about, but if don't here is a video of the said scene

So I think he'd be more Mike-like, but tbh he could also be Jessica (I hope this makes sense). Also, you don't have to be a girl or anything for this exact interaction. He's just a bit cringe.

But that's okay, it's not a crime 😊

THIS.MAN.ALSO.LOVES.TO.DECORATE.YOUR.HOUSE !!!

I hcs he probably didn't really do anything for Christmas as a child.

It's supposed that he lived in South America, so it didn't really snow or anything. His parents didn't see the point in celebrating it.

Well no matter the reason that caused him to be "Christmas-starved", he still is.

I don't think he would go all out like you can see in some Christmas light contests, but he still puts quite the effort.

Inside the house, he would keep it pretty simple but with a good amount of things. Like fairy lights pretty much all around the house, whatever these are called in a banner like display, little Santa's, snowmans, ...

Now, to my favourite part, the drabbles ^^

1. Decorating your first Christmas tree together 🎄:

You moved him with him pretty early in the relationship. He justified it by saying something amongst the lines of "I work a lot, sweetheart. As sad as it is, I won't be here often. If things go south one day, I won't ever kick you out, don't worry. See it as you helping me around the house when I'm not there, and as a payment, you get a free roof over your head, yeah?"

When he just said it, you were kinda offended, but thinking back, he's not wrong. Plus, he doesn't force you to move faster in the relationship. It's just a win-win situation. Of course, he mostly proposed this because he loves you so damn much.

He never felt like that with another person. He swears (in his head) that you have to be his soulmate. How else could you guys fit so well together?

When December came close, he asked you if you would want to make a Christmas tree with him. You said yes, obviously.

You both went to get dressed in warmer clothes before going to the local Christmas market.

Hand in hand, walking and stopping every 30 seconds because one of you saw something that catched your eyes. You both probably went a little overboard with the stuff you got, but you wouldn't wish to go back in time to do otherwise. He was so freaking happy. It made you melt every time you looked at him and his big smile.

After a while, he asks you to go get a Christmas tree (pine?) before all of the good ones are gone. I don't think you would go in a "chop the one you want" type of thing, but in a more store like type of thing. He insisted you guys should get a real one instead of the plastic ones because even tho it makes a huge mess, it's more cosy to have a real one. Don't ask me how, but you got the most beautiful tree ever. It's a nice fresh green colour, not too tall but very large and fluffy.

Once both of you are happy with what you have, you go back to your shared house to actually decorate the said tree.

It starts with unloading the car, then putting everything in the living room and finally doing what you both waited for. Decorating.

You set the tree in the corner of the living room, not too far away from the chimney. He chose to start with the fluffy garland before the light ones and finally the little balls and bauble you got.

Finally, it's time to set the star on top of the tree, and you insist he does it. After all, it's his idea.

"Don't be silly, love. C'mere, I'll help you, " He says before making a come here motion with his hand. You do. He lifts you up by the waist, and you place it perfectly.

Once he puts you back down, you both walk a few steps back to admire your work. He gives you a side hug, and you could swear he's almost crying.

You take a picture of your tree and a selfie of the both of you as a souvenir of this amazing day you guys spent.

2. Spending Christmas together but discreetly.

After his fake death, he had to lay very low to avoid any suspicion. Which also means that this year, it would only be the both of you on Christmas.

You never spent Christmas without your parents, so this was really hard for you. Not only did you have to lie to everyone, saying things like what you were too sad to celebrate this year, that you weren't able to attend, ... but you also had to make they sad and worried.

Phillip knew that it was really upsetting you but didn't know what to do apart for apologizing for making you do all of that.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, you woke up quite early and sat on the couch in front of the tree. When you looked at him once more, you started crying. The worst thing is that you felt terrible to cry. Everything was doing better than it could've. Your lover was alive and well. You had anything you could possibly need.

And yet you still felt like garbage. Even more now that you were felling guilty from feeling this way.

Phillip woke up in an empty bed. Your side was still a bit warm, so he knew that you left the bed not too long ago. Usually, he would've woken up at you getting up, but he was exhausted. He stretched before lazily sliding in his slippers and going look after you.

When he got down the stairs, he saw you curled up with your knees to your chest on the couch. It broke his heart when he heard you quietly sob.

He instantly goes up to you and sits down on the couch before rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

"Hey... what's going on lovely?" He asks in a worried tone.

After taking a couple of deep breaths in and out, you explain the reason why you were crying. He carefully listens, holds your hand, and squeezes it from time to time to prove that he is listening to you.

Once you're done, he drags you in his harm to hold you and pet your hair.

"Oh, baby... I'm so sorry that we have to go through this. That I have to make you go through this. I promise you that everything will be okay, though. I love you so so so much. You can't even imagine. That's why I'm still very happy. I get to spend the holidays with you. The love of my life. I'm going to make sure that you spend an amazing Christmas 'kay? Do you trust me?"

You just nod against him, your voice being stuck in your throat from such sweet words.

"I love you too, Phil's, and of course I trust you," you say after a little while of being in this comfortable hold.

Sorry if this is really cheesy, I just am a sucker for lovey dovey stuff 😅

While Graves is not my favorite COD character at all, I can't lie and say that writing this didn't make me love him a bit more.

Also, I'm very sorry if he's ooc, I tried my best 🥹

I wish you a very merry Christmas and lovely holidays! 🍾☃️🎄

I hope you have a good day/night and that you're safe <3

I love you everyone!

[digestionmachine]

snow mesa, colorado trail, july 2022

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s). possessive. talks of marriage. unprotected. breēding kink; crēampies. jealousy. pregnancy kink? reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart, mama’ not proofread; excuse the grammar. wc: 1.7k

“look at that, baby,” satoru coos as he watches the golden necklace bounce around your collarbone with each wet thrust. it’s a 24k pure gold necklace he purchased just today, with his initials on it.

something inside him stirred the moment he put it on you. satoru couln’t help himself from pinning you to the couch and claiming you as his own for the nth time. it doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you; it’s never enough.

the letters ‘sg’ are shimmering under the light of the living room. the older man is grinning from ear to ear, nearly cumming from the sight of you wearing that necklace alone. it’s a sign of possession to him. you’re his—you’re only his. he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

“shit, ‘t makes me wanna put a ring on it,” satoru hisses, one of his hands pressing down on your lower tummy. you gasp and clutch at his broad back, nails digging into his flesh quite painfully. “i think i’d engrave my initials on the inside of the ring too, what do ya think?”

each word is punctuated with a thrust. his hips are non-stop ramming into yours, claiming even the deepest spots of your body beneath him. he leans down to trail kisses down your sensitive neck, eliciting a couple whines from your lips.

“d’y wanna get married, sweetheart?” the sudden proposal takes you off guard. you can’t believe satoru would ask such a thing while being balls deep inside you. you’re blabbering nonsense, your voice muffled due to the saliva building up in your mouth.

“m— married? babe, are you ser-” your question is left unanswered as your boyfriend kisses your plump lips. he switches to a slow and gentle pace, grinding into your needy cunt until it leaves you shaking. his fingers play with the golden jewelry around your neck.

a necklace will do. as long as you’ll wear that accessory from this day forward, he’ll be satisfied. the urge to make you his forever partner could be satiated. for now, that is. he knows you still have a bright future ahead of you, like getting your degree and first ever proper job.

“let’s have you finish university first, yeah?” satoru smiles down at you after detaching his lips from yours. he watches the string of saliva hang between your mouths, giving a short hum once it snaps. his big hand slithers down to cup your breast and knead it, kissing your nipple whilst holding eye contact, “i can wait for you.”

satoru sighs as he rolls his tongue around your hardened nipple. he’s drooling over your breasts, a drunken glint in his eyes. he’s so obsessed with you to the point that he’d marry you right now if he could. that proposal wasn’t a joke—but he figured that it also wasn’t the smartest.

he’ll give you a proper and serious proposal one day. though, now you know for sure that he’s gotten into this relationship with the thought of actually marrying you.

“but i also—fuck—can’t wait,” satoru whines, feeling your walls clamp down on his thick cock. his dick is pulsing with need, exploring your squishy insides while his balls prepare to release all semen stored right into your fertile womb. even if you may take a pill to get rid of any unwanted consequences, the thought of seeing your tummy swell with his child is making the older man go insane.

satoru buries his face between your breasts and breathes heavily against your sweaty skin. his hips move with renewed vigour, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasuring you, “wanna make you my wife ‘n breed this pretty pussy.”

you moan repeatedly, unable to stop yourself. especially after satoru frantically spews such lewd words. he’s getting lost in your cunt and the way it’s swallowing him in—into your pretty pussy that he owns. his pussy.

“wanna be your wife so bad, ‘toru,” you hiccup, nearly crying from the intense pleasure. you’d love to be satoru’s wife. he already treats you so well while you’re his girlfriend, you can’t imagine how much better it’s going to get once you’re officially his. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of being able to call him your husband.

the white-haired man chuckles. his blue eyes stare down at you with nothing but love, “yeah? mh, i’ll treat you so well every single day. g’nna come home to you ‘n give you some proper loving.”

satoru can already imagine it. coming home to you after a long day of work, needing a quick release. seeing you greet him at the door will send him into a frenzy. especially if you’re wearing an apron—he’s a sucker for domestic stuff.

you, his wife, taking care of him after a rough day at work. . . it’s a dream come true. he’ll spoil you with materialistic gifts and his unending love so you’ll live a happy life.

oh, don’t get him started on kids. satoru ruts into you like his life depends on it, the hypnotising rhythm of your boobs jiggling in circles is making him drool. having a little family with you is his end goal. you’ll be such a good mother and he’ll be such an amazing dad; a perfect combination.

satoru can already picture the amount of times he’ll dump his cum inside of you, without any restrictions. without you taking a pill or him wrapping a condom around his dick. his libido is going to be at an all time high when the time comes.

even if satoru ages a bit, he’s sure that he’s going to be able to have sex with you non stop. you get him hard without fail every single time. you’re his everything—the apple of his eyes.

your lover nearly chokes on his own saliva. he pushes his cock in to the base, burying it as deep as possible. your fingers curl around the pillow you’re holding for support, your eyes rolling back. his pink tip hit the right spot. that sweet spot that makes you cum without fail.

satoru bites his bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you, with a possessive kind of love and lust, is simply too much. his oceanic eyes are glimmering with need. erotic images flash through his mind of him impregnating you, “going to put a baby into you as soon as you’re ready.”

your tummy fills with butterflies. the way he’s talking to you like you’re already a married couple is making your pussy even wetter than it already is. it’s like it’s begging satoru to give it to you already—to make it store all his cum.

his eyes roll back as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he wants to cherish every second spent inside of your warm body. satoru attaches his lips to your breasts again, “mhhh, y’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, mama. those tits of y’rs. . .”

his voice is barely audible because he’s busy sucking on your nipples. your boyfriend is imagining the pair growing with each semester, filling out perfectly to store milk for the baby.

satoru cannot wait to be the reason why your body will change so much. you’ll be even prettier than you already are, that he can tell already. he’s going to give you gifts every day, to thank you for carrying his child. he’s going to spoil you rotten because you deserve it and so much more.

he can’t wait for the married life with you. many men dread that life, but that’s not the case with satoru. every day of his married life will be spent with his wife—you—and the honeymoon phase will never end. ever.

satoru’s cock is twitching and begging for the much needed release. he pounds you into the couch until you’re screaming in pleasure, feeling him so deep inside you. he’s so big, he’s stretching you out so well to the point of no return. the older man grins at the sight of your already fucked out face, “cunt ‘s gonna be so swollen because of how much i’ll pleasure her—paint her all white with my cum.”

satoru’s nasty words are causing unspeakable things to your body. you’re on the brink of reaching that euphoric state. the dirty talk is too much to handle at this point. your limbs are tingling and your cunt is aching to be stuffed full of his hot semen.

“s-satoru, don’t say such stuff,” you comment in a shaky breath. your head is spinning and your hands desperately reach out to hold onto his shoulders, squeezing the skin. your hips are bucking up lightly, your clit bumping against satoru’s pelvic area with each thrust, “i’m gonna cum if you keep saying that.”

your lover’s grin widens even more. he knows you enjoy it when he whispers such dirty stuff in your ear. that’s mainly the reason why he does it. he’s talked you through multiple orgasms before—it’s quite easy to do so with his husky voice and manly touch.

“that’s fine, baby,” satoru coos and leaves one last, sloppy kiss on your nipple before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. his tongue swirls around yours as you share your spit, the mixture trickling down your chins.

his hips don’t stop. he positions his lower body in an angle that gets you screaming for mercy, which he won’t do. he craves to ruin you on his cock, to see you melt with pleasure underneath him.

“make a mess on my dick while i make a mess inside of you,” satoru encourages you which seals the deal. your body shakes as you feel the waves of pleasure run through your system. you can feel hot ropes of cum nestle deep inside of your cunt. your boyfriend shudders at the sensation and helps you ride your climax out.

he pushes in and back out a few times, lazily, his finger finding your clit to rub until you’ve calmed down. “good girl. y’ took all of it, hm? lovely,” satoru nearly collapses on top of you after the energy leaves his body, careful not to crush you underneath his weight.

he doesn’t bother to pull out. he keeps his cum plugged into you—relishing the moment of ecstasy. even if he can’t fully breed you now, he’ll wait until the day he can.

“i love you, wifey,” satoru kisses your temple, tiredly giggling at the nickname he gave you. in his mind, you are already his one and only woman.

his wife and partner for life.

[seraphdreams]

GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[yrqrnc]

biker!haechan as your boyfriend who you’re mad at (but are you, really?)

★: fluff fluff fluff fluff & a very sexy biker!lee haechan

m.list

( 𝟔 : 𝟓𝟎 𝐩𝐦 )

“i know you’re mad at me angel, but please. hold onto me, or you’re gonna fall off.” your boyfriend pleads as he glances at you for a quick second through the rear-view mirror of his bike.

“no.”

your answer is simple and sweet bitter. a classic sign for him to know how upset you actually are at him, no matter how silly or random the reason may be.

and see, the thing is, in a room full of stubborn people, you would be superior. that is one thing both you and haechan have known for a long time.

so it didn’t matter how sweetly he talked to you right now, if you’re upset, you are upset.

“babe.”

you can hear the frustration in his voice, and that pisses you even more because, how can he be frustrated?

you are.

you were furious.

he was the one who had been all careless about driving on your way to the café by speeding and doing those careless stunts with his damned bike to apparently “show off his amazing skills”, and on top of that, he was also the one who then proceeded to smile a little too unnecessarily sweetly and be a little too unnecessarily friendly to the new pretty friend of chenle, whom you guys had met on your group hangout today.

of course, those were reasons to be mad.

right?

because he was quite shameless about it too. complimenting her right in front of your face and thinking you didn’t catch him side-eyeing you every 2 seconds to see your reaction everytime he interacted with her?

you found him utterly annoying.

most of the time, it was affectionately, but today, your patience had been running short and he had pushed your buttons too far.

your boyfriend was aware of that, and he thought it quite cute, actually.

however, riding the bike as his pillion rider while being on that current speed of the bike could be quite dangerous, and he only wanted to assure your safety in that moment.

“just focus on driving, haechan. i won’t fall off”

“baby, you will.”

“oh my god,” you groan out in annoyance. he really wouldn’t stop.

“i said i won’t. you know what? look—”

his consistent “hold on to me”s eventually get on your nerves in your already sour mood, and you decide it would be best to just prove it to him;

show him that nothing will happen at all—for once—so that he can shut his pretty mouth up and get you both home quietly and hopefully, try to then make it up to you there.

and to do just that, you start trying to completely detach your body from his.

you just saw absolutely no need to hold onto him like he was pushing you to do.

you let your hands fly in the air as you shift back on your seat, away from him, to show him that he’s overreacting and you’re really not going to—

it takes about half and a quarter second for the furious wind to hit you harshly, rolling in along with the fast velocity of the bike, and you’re almost sent flying back off the vehicle.

almost.

in that panicked state of mind, you latch onto haechan’s back instantly, grabbing onto him like your life depended on it.

and it did, actually, for a second there.

your mind becomes so frenzied for a moment; you almost missed how, the moment you shifted away from him, he slowed down and one of his hands immediately flew back to reach you, in an attempt to hold you and pull you back to keep you safe and steady.

then, there’s a moment of silence.

there’s a painfully long moment of silence; only the rumbles of the engine of the bike to be heard.

you try to process what had just happened and how you just quite literally just embarrassed yourself with all the confidence you had about around 10 seconds ago, while he takes his time to calm himself down and steady himself and the bike after knowing you’re still there behind him.

the loud quietness is humiliating until he finally breaks it.

“...are you okay?” his voice comes out a little shaky as if, after the initial panic, he’s now trying to bite back a laugh, and you know he’s looking at you through the bike’s mirror again, with that stupid smirk etched onto his face.

“yes.”

this time, too, somehow, your reply is short and bitter sweet, and biker!haechan finds you absolutely adorable as you very slowly sneak your hands up his chest from the back in a tight hold, sticking closer to him, while you try your absolute best to not face him.

only for your own safety purposes, of course.

because— fine, alright. maybe he was not all that wrong when he’d instructed you. you’d tried to prove him wrong, and nature had just done you the other way around.

and frustratingly, yet once again, he thinks you don’t hear him when he stifles a laugh right in front of you.

“shut up. don’t.”

you mumble out, in poor attempt to keep up with the anger instead of the embarrassment that was swallowing you up right now.

but you’re really just pouting in the backseat and your boyfriend knows that.

you don’t know whether you want to jump off this damned bike willingly yourself now, or if you want to hide your face in his back and never show yourself again.

“mm. didn’t, angel.”

and you hate how you can hear that cocky smile on his face without having to look at him as he speaks.

dumb, dumb, and stupidly hot lee donghyuck.

you loathe him, and both of you know how true that stands.

“are you hungry? we can grab some takeout from that place you liked last time.” his voice is sweet as it always is, as he suggests.

but your mind is still a fuzzy swirl of embarrassment and irritation at him from earlier, and it ends up speaking something completely against your actual wants.

“no i’m fine.”

“baby,” he smiles softly as he glances at you once more, “is that your anger talking or you?”

“…”

“you don’t want that beef soup ramen from that place?”

“no, i don’t.”

and he just knows from your tone that you’re sulking behind him as you say this, your mind screaming something else completely.

( ★ )

“you want something to drink too?”

haechan asks exactly 17 minutes later as you both stand to order your ramen and chicken wings.

what had you been mad at him about, again?

[hyuny-bunny]

skz + s/o with long nails

can't sleep and i need to get this thought out before it makes my head explode

MDNI (18+) suggestive ideas, mutual masterbation, oral, nail markings

skz x gn!reader

chan: at first he's indifferent. it makes no difference to him, you might've kept short or no nails to start with while dating him. it isn't till you try out a new spot that leaves you with the best set you've ever had, that he starts to take more notice. especially when his back scratches take a whole new level. he's twitching his leg like a dog when you go too light on him finding it ticklish, he's begging you to scratch him harder. his mind starts to run wild at the thought how it would feel to have your nails clawing at his back during sex as he pounds into you.

minho: he loves your nails. he finds them so cute on you, especially when their pointed like a cat claw. he's not one to comment his thoughts on what you should do but he loves the way your hands look with baby pinks or milk white shades. his cats seem to enjoy them as much as you do when they surround you begging to be scratched next. he really finds out how much he loves them when you're going down on him as his thank you for paying for the new set, when you're clawing down on his thighs. he can't help admire how pretty they look while you sit perched between his thighs as stroke him into your mouth.

changbin: he loves everything about you but the nails he just doesn't quite get. how are you supposed to lift weights when you can't even close your hand into a fist :( ? nevertheless he pampers his partner!! so of course he's putting his card down for you to pay for your new set or sending you the money to pay for them (then some more incase it's a long session and you need to grab food). he's a changed man when he sees the new set. your nail tech found a cute way to put his intials on the ring fingers of your nails. he's posting and sending everyone a photo of your nail set with your hands wrapped around his bicep. he knows that all you need is a ring to complete it.

hyunjin: love love love LOVES your nails. everytime there's an appointment coming up soon, he's already asking what you're getting. he'll send you some ideas, a lot of it might be douyin style but he loves anything you decide on. aside from loving the way they look, he also loves the way they feel. his insta photos might be filled with your hands in shot with coffee or selfies he's taken while's you held his face or gave his cheeks a squish. either way he knows that you know when he plops down into your lap or chest, he's demanding head and back scratches. he's purring like a cat in your lap with every movement but will immediately whine if you stop too soon.

jisung: don't care as long you're dedicating an hour or two to play with his hair after a fresh set. colors make no difference to him but he gets weak in the knees when you come home with red nails. his mind taking him to filth places of having your hand stroking him, how pretty your hands look in with his cum painting your nails. he's always offering to pay for your nails, on the condition that you always do red which you're typically happy to oblige anyways.

felix: there has to be something based in fact for me to confidently say he also more than happy to have you scratch his head, back, anywhere that you possibly feel he might enjoy because he is actually a cat. a very cuddly one that's purring with every scratch across his skin. he loves the set ideas you come up with but especially loves when you incorporate hints of blue in your nails because you know it's his signature color. makes him feel like it's proof that you belong to him in a way that only he needs to know. his only thing to pick at is you can't be as handsy with baking with him when you have longer nails :/ buts that's okay when you make it up by playing with his hair, putting it in pretty braids and giving him neck & chin scratches.

seungmin: also someone who seems in different. he might get annoyed every time you accidentally poke him too hard from a new set. he'd tease you for the way your nails sound while you type but it's all in good fun. another one who's twitching his leg like a puppy every time you scratch his back or head. oh how he could lay like that forever. another one to soft launch you on his insta with shot of your hand on his knee at a baseball game or intertwined while having a romantic dinner. he once again doesn't mind and even learns to appreciate the way your nails rake through his hair. how they feel when your trying pry him out from between your thighs tugging on his hair for dear life.

jeongin: he loves your long nails, he loves it even more when you take him with you to get your nails done together. he's not passing on opportunity to get matching manicures. he loves to see you venture off with colors. when you opt to get a forrest green french tip set, he's right there asking for his pinky nails to be painted in the same green polish. he's posting a picture of your intertwined hands with your matching polish. he's down bad for you and everyone knows it. you can't blame him when you're the same for him. it's all he thinks about when you're both laid next to each other in bed with his hand in your underwear and your hand wrapped around him stroking him so prettily, toying with one another and matching polish adorning your hands.

[venus-haze]

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right. 

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. 

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?” 

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk. 

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth. 

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release. 

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust. 

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”

[suhlogic]

cold sweat [kim mingyu x fem!oc]

warnings: fwb, sexual tension, size kink, creampie, manhandling, daddy kink, overstimulation, mingyu is really touchy, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected sex , porn with little plot , body worship, pussy-eating, car sex , a bit of a self-indulgent fic

you and mingyu have been friends since your senior year of high school. the two of you were as thick as thieves, it didn’t matter if there was the risk of being separated in college— you two would always find each other during holidays and summer breaks in your hometown. but there was just one problem: you were falling hard and fast for the one and only kim mingyu. your mingyu who’s six feet and two inches tall of pure happiness and sweet disposition, the one who’d drop everything for you whenever you’re down, the person who was always cheering you on, and not to mention how handsome he is with his tan skin and prominently defined arms with his toned back as wide as the pacific ocean and those toned abs— but god, his smile and his contagious laugh that you could just constantly put on repeat no matter what time of day it is has you secretly pining away for your best friend. 

being physically intimate with him was not an uncharted territory  for the two of you, it just sort of happened one time when he came home drunk to your place and stumbled on your bed falling into a deep slumber as he cuddled you close in his hazy state. but you two never really brought up that night ever again, it did not matter if you two were sober or not, one of you would always offer cuddles and maybe a few stolen kisses in between especially when the both of you were stressed over schoolwork. it didn’t take that long for you to notice that mingyu was initiating them more often but repressed the thought that he could actually like you because you were just silly old you— always the best friend, never the girlfriend. but, little did you know, he fell first for you. of course he’d never admit that for the sake of protecting the friendship.

[10:00PM]

it was already late at night and you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bed so you decided to get up and shower to get ready for the 24/7 gym just near your apartment complex. after getting your things prepared, you decided to ring up mingyu to join you on your workout—or as he calls it, “gymscapade” for when you both get so stressed you need to work out a sweat. he picks up after two rings, voice clearly woken up from a deep slumber. “hey, what’s up?” he replies, “would you wanna go workout with me right now?” you ask, hoping he’s not too lazy in the confines of his bed on the other line.  “yeah, just let me get ready in a bit. call you soon when i’m there.” he says with a yawn. “okay, just meet me at the gym near my place just so i can get a good warmup.” you say as the both of you exchange your goodbyes. 

you make it to the gym not long after and decided to unzip your jacket halfway through your warmup. you were actually the only one in the gym since it was already quite late. while working up a sweat on the lat pulldown machine, you saw mingyu from the corner of your eye entering wearing  grey sweatpants and a compression tank top. he starts to warm up for a bit as you went to where he was, “what are you going to do today?” he asked, stretching out his arms. “i’ll just do a few upper and lower body workouts, maybe squeeze in some lifting too,” you say, as you take a sip from your water bottle. it never really struck you how handsome mingyu was until as of late, it just wasn’t in the books for the two of you to actually get together or even fuck at the very least but knowing how tiny and short you were compared to his huge, tall frame made you run a bit hot and wet down there. 

“care to spot me while i do bench presses?” he says as he takes off the dumbbells from the racks. you could barely lift what he pressed, it’s almost all-consuming seeing mingyu lay on the bench while you looked down at him as he lifted and praising him every time he’d do it. this position was not good for your health, all you could ever think about was him eating you out whenever he would moan out of exertion. you still had a few sets on the lat pulldown machine to go and asked him to spot you, to help you with your form since he was going to the gym longer than you have been. 

mingyu couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair up in a messy ponytail, wearing a cute workout set with just a pastel pink sports bra with tight-fitting compression shorts of the same color. you were so oblivious yet fucking obvious about how bad you wanted your friend to fuck you and he saw right through it. the way your skin would suddenly feel warm under his touch or how you’d hide the hitches in your breath whenever he was too close to you while he observes your workouts. as you were doing your set, he was behind you closing the gap between you two as he made sure you were feeling the burn in all the targeted muscles. as he lowered down to your level on the seat, your back brushed against his crotch and felt something huge and hard. “good girl, just one more and you’re done.” he whispered lowly in your ear as you exhaled when you let go of the bar in an upwards motion. 

as the two of you were helping each other finish workouts, he couldn’t help but gaze into your eyes with a hidden intent and leaned in for a kiss which made you set your dumbbells down on the floor with a loud thud booming through the room. it took you aback and you pulled away from the kiss, mingyu was shocked at your action and stared at you with wide eyes. “i’m sorry i couldn’t help it ever since that night i never stopped thinking about you.” he says, as you pulled him in closer and kissed him harder as your tongues became entangled. “jump,” he whispers as he starts to carry you. fuck, it was really hot seeing him take the lead and it made you weaker for him than ever before. he puts you down before you could even leave hickeys on his neck, “y/n, i’m not going to fuck you here, let me be a gentleman and take you back to my place,” he says with a mischievous smile, lips red and swollen from the steamy makeup session. 

both of you grabbed your things and went inside his car, the tension was hot and heavy as his hand were rubbing your thigh further riling you up while he drove through the quiet streets of the city with you weak and submissive under his touch.    it was something that set your insides on fire— seeing mingyu’s hand veins pop out from gripping the steering wheel hard resisting himself from pulling over and fucking you in the nearest empty parking lot he could find. as soon as the stoplight turned red, he looked over at you with a menacing smirk. “god, you just look so pretty and desperate for me, huh?”

you couldn’t help but be more turned on as you felt your core get wetter just because of his words and before you knew it, he was taking off your seatbelt for you and leaning in for a desperate kiss with his tongue exploring your mouth as if he had been waiting for this moment. “go in the backseat, now” he said in between breaths while still cupping your face, his usual kind and bright eyes, now filled with lust and a dominating gaze desperately telling you how bad he wanted this. as you made your way into the back, he followed suit and did not waste time taking off your bra showing off your huge boobs, its buds already hardened from the cold air. he smirked as you whined at how he took your nipples between his fingers and played with them, mingyu then sat you on his lap and felt his manhood through his sweatpants as you were just only left in your tight shorts that were clearly thin. “princess, you look so pretty like this. all naked and wet for daddy, huh?” he whispered as you began to grind your clothed pussy on his hard dick, just more wanting more from him. craving mingyu like he was the kind of drug you needed, so intoxicating yet so worth the risk. 

with lust-filled eyes, mingyu looked up at you and pulled you in for a rough kiss, tongues tied with one another. as he pulled away once more, he started to leave love bites all over your neck and chest not giving a fuck who sees it— all he knows is that you're his by day's end. his rough hands began to roam your body and unclasped your bra skillfully letting your huge tits be free. his mouth immediately latched onto your tit while his fingers began to rub the nipple in between the other one.

"fuck, daddy please i wanna feel you inside," you moaned. he just smirked as he began to flip you onto the backseat so he'd be on top of you. "patience, angel, good girls get to cum." he whispers through gritted teeth, grinding his hard cock on your pussy, still clothed yet the thong you wore hardly doing anything to cover the wetness. as mingyu goes down on you to take off your underwear, he leaves kisses on your stomach and hips, "god, you look so gorgeous fucked out for me, why didn't we fuck sooner?" he moans in between kisses. he inserts two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, "so fucking tight for me, yeah, can't wait for my dick to be inside hm?"  he says as you could  just lose all sense of rationality with how good he is with his fingers. he then lowers his head down in between your thighs and eats you out, licking your clit as if he's a starved man. 

"daddy, please i'm so fucking close," you whine, tears of pleasure filling your eyes. mingyu proceeds to insert three of his fingers and fucked you faster with it, his long and thick digits began to curl inside, "you like being a slut for me yeah? who fucking owns you?" he moans, "you daddy, please.. gyu.. .more," you say as he coaxes you into your first orgasm. he takes out his fingers, your cum coating his fingers as he proudly licks and sucks them off with pride with a devilish smirk. "you taste so sweet, angel... " he says as you begin to claw at the waistband of his  sweatpants, desperate to feel his dick inside you. he smirks at how helpless you look and removes his bottoms along with his boxers, his hard, long dick standing in its full glory slapping against his chiseled abs,  as its girth makes you wonder how it could fit inside of you.

"will it fit, gyu?" you ask in a small voice. "oh, we'll make it fit, princess, i've prepped you enough yeah?" he begins to jack off his dick preparing to put it inside. "fuck, you look so small for me, all for me..so pretty spread out like this," he moans as he teases the tip of his dick in between your folds and slowly thrusts it inside of you. "fuck...my god gyu so fucking good, please...move," you whine as he begins to slowly move inside of you taking his sweet time to be inside of you. god knows how fucking long he waited to have you like this, you just looked so angelic and slutty under him, it took everything in him to not fill you to the brim with his cum right there. his hands tightly gripped your waist as he pounded into you faster, feeling how big he is inside, hitting the tip of your cervix. you put your arms around the nape of his neck as you pull him in for a passionate kiss, hands roaming around his toned upper back leaving scratches on it as your nails dig into its broad surface. 

you feel his thrusts get faster and deeper as he began to rub your clit helping you to also reach your second orgasm, "i'm fucking close baby, " he moans as his thrusts get sloppier. "cum..inside..me..it's okay,'m on the pill daddy"you whine out as you two feel each other's release, his cum mixed with yours dripping down your thighs. mingyu pulled out as he reached into the glovebox compartment for a box of tissue helping you clean up. "fuck...what just happened?" he asks, giggling. "we fucked," you laugh as he pulls you closer to him in the tight space with the steam-filled windows from the sex earlier. "so...i like you..a fucking lot," he starts as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours and kisses your forehead, "yeah, i do too gyu," you smile as you pull him in closer for another kiss, this time full of love and gentleness. "let's go home and finish what we started, yeah?" he says while you two begin to get dressed up and drive back to his place for the night. 

[januaryembrs]

THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]

Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)

word count: 7.9k

trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.

authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.

previous chpt | next chpt

'Doctor, look into my eyes.

I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'

The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.

Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.

Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7. 

Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.  

Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now. 

They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included. 

Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings. 

Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up. 

Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt. 

But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t. 

He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around. 

So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help. 

Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover. 

“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,” 

“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.

“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”

“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,” 

“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her. 

He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard. 

Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her. 

She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside. 

“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?” 

She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again. 

“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”

“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”

Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her. 

“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”

He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances. 

The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece. 

“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare. 

A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching. 

“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up. 

She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms. 

The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly. 

“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help. 

Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face. 

The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried. 

“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing. 

She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home. 

But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her. 

He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic. 

And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour  ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed. 

Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.

It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it. 

It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking. 

JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed. 

Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.

So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her. 

JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more. 

So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm. 

So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few. 

It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book. 

“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,” 

She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation. 

“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?” 

“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.

“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend. 

She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words. 

She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised. 

So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.

JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse. 

Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out. 

Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit. 

Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t. 

He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,” 

Nothing. 

And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of. 

“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot. 

He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver. 

He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.  

“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,” 

“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”

“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then. 

“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,” 

“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out. 

She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle. 

“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.

“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before. 

“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”

“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise. 

“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,” 

And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished. 

He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack. 

And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.

If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese. 

Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this. 

It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her. 

So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).

“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,” 

“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”

“Do you mean julienne?” 

“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid. 

“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty. 

“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”

David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there. 

Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her. 

“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”

David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now. 

“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”

“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"

“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound. 

She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too. 

Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning. 

“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol. 

She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. 

“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.” 

“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile. 

“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,” 

And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks. 

While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.

She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway. 

It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in. 

He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later. 

“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing. 

“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months. 

She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was. 

But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again. 

Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door. 

It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time. 

But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years. 

“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab. 

She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed. 

It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was. 

“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans. 

“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!” 

Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. 

“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”

“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”

They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with. 

Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought. 

This never happened. 

Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning. 

That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s. 

So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage. 

Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more. 

He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom. 

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”

And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit. 

She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down. 

It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her. 

“Bug, I’m getting you-”

“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought. 

Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her. 

“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke. 

“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”

His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,” 

“Hm?” 

“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks. 

“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,” 

His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her. 

He felt like a fool. 

“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.” 

“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,” 

It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth. 

He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly. 

“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.” 

He would be lying if he  said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.

“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder. 

Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock. 

She kissed him. She had kissed him. 

And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.

“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again. 

Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together. 

But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep. 

He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow. 

–

taglist:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @sadbae-33

[selineram3421]

Well I just read you newest story about y/n being Husker's younger sibling. Especially how much focus there was on Al just wanting to piss him off.

So if I might suggest: Alastor with a y/n who's Charlie's sibling/Lucifer's child. Seriously we saw him already losing it when all claimed to see a daughter figure in Charlie...Al flirting, etc. with a different child might actually kill him.

Anyway I love your work, keep it up ^-^

- 🖤

*cackles like an insane person*

Royally Pissed

Prologue

Alastor X Morningstar Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ reader is blonde for obvious reasons, cussing, mention of depression, angry short King ⚠

Lucifer treasured his children.

Of course he messed up at times, not every parent is perfect. Though he does regret not seeing his children all that often.

Charlie was doing something. Somewhere.

Shit, that sounds bad.

And you would come by and check up on him every so often.

While Charlie looked like him, she had her mother's height. You looked more like Litlith..but had his shortness.

Of course you were adorable!

His littlest one, born a few seconds after Charlie. Twins that came out like opposites in looks but similar in some ways.

He gifted you a rubber duck for every birthday. One that had a tutu, one that had multiple eyes, one that had a built in music box, one that had a jester hat, one that honked like a goose, one that-

Ok, it was a lot.

But you loved his duckies! You even had bookshelves just for them!

Currently you were with him in the castle. Or more like you being in the other room while he was working on another duck.

Then he got a phone call from Charlie.

"Daughter. Daughter calling!", he said in surprise.

After talking about Heaven and a bit about the hotel, he got excited when she said for him to come see the hotel for himself.

"My daughter wants to see me~!", he sang before pointing at a duck on the floor. "Take that depression!"

"Dad?", he heard you call out, finding you opening the door. "Do you want lunch now?", you asked.

Lucifer cheered out your name and grabbed your hands before twirling you around. "Charlie called! She invited me to her hotel thingy!"

"Oh, that's nice.", you said. "I hope you have fun."

"You can come too!", he stopped the twirling. "We'll all get to hang out again!"

You smiled and agreed.

"Great! We've got to be there in an hour!", he says before letting you go to skip out of the room.

Staying put, you glance at the rubber duck filled room with slight worry.

"It wasn't this bad last time.."

.

You stood behind your father as you both waited for the doors to open.

It's been a while since you last saw Charlie, it being around a few months. Looking around you can see she cleaned up the building quite well. It was more broken down when it first appeared on the news when she pitched her idea.

I'm glad she's doing well. You thought before hearing the door.

"Charlie!", your dad said with a wide smile, holding his arms open.

"Hey Dad.", your sister waved before getting glomped with a tight hug. "Uh..it's uh, good to see you too Dad.", she said before having to push him off to breathe.

Then she noticed you, saying your name in excitement.

"I would have done more if I knew you were coming to visit too!", she said and brought you into the hotel by your hand.

"No, you don't have to worry. I'm sure what you have is enough.", you reassured as you followed her in.

From the corner of your eye, you saw two demons right next to the door. On your right there was someone in red and turned your head to see a tall deer demon. Looking to your left, you saw a woman with long white hair and an X over her eye.

"Hello..", you waved with a shy smile.

.

Alastor glared down at the King as soon as the short man barged into the hotel.

How could that be more powerful than me? He thought as his eye twitched.

Then Charlie pushed her father off and excitedly greeted someone outside, grabbing their hand to bring them in.

His eyes widened at the smaller version of Lilith.

"Hello..", they waved shyly at everyone in the room.

And then the little cat that the Princess had walked over to greet the two.

"Kiki!", the two blondes kneeled down to pet the one-eyed feline.

After walking around, Lucifer commented on the bar, so Alastor teleported closer before speaking up.

"Just some of the renovations we had done!", he pointed at the bar with his microphone staff. "Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?", he said before facing the King.

He teleported even closer to the Kind and introduced himself after the monarch questioned who he was, shaking the apple cane instead of the King's hand.

As soon as the deer demon let go, he wiped his hand on his coat.

"You are much shorter in real life.", he said pinching his fingers a bit, emphasizing how small the blonde man was.

"Who is this? Who is this?", Lucifer asked and turned to his daughter once seeing her walk over. "Is this the bellhop?", he asked her.

"Aha! No!", Alastor said before fixing his bow. "I am the host of the hotel! You might of heard of me from my radio broadcasts."

"Hm. Nope!", the King pretended to think before dusting off his sleeve. "Maybe it's why Charlie calls it the HAZBIN hotel! Ah ha ha!", he nudges his daughter with his elbow.

"Ha ha ha!", the deer tilts his head at every short laugh that left his mouth before looking at his claws with a knowing smile. "It was actually my idea."

"Ah haha! Well it's not very clever!", the blonde replied leaning forward a bit.

"Ah ha!", the Radio demon laughed loudly before leaning down to meet the King's gaze. "Fuck you.", he said very clearly, static only in the background.

"OK!", Charlie pushed the two away. "Ok! Anyway!", she said as the two looked away from each other. "Dad!", she turned to her father.

While the two were occupied, he saw the small Lilith looking Morningstar talking with the others, wearing a bright smile as they laughed.

He focused back on the conversation when the Princess said his name.

"We wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much.", she said and the two blondes turned to face him.

"Charlie has a very unique vision!", he said with his usual smile as he walked over. "I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests!", he places a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Thank you Alastor.", the blonde smiled, feeling happy.

He noticed the way Lucifer hated it, and calmly smiled.

"Quite an impressive young lady.", he said and tilted the Princess's head up a bit with his hand before moving his claws back to himself. "We're all very proud of her.", he says and places an arm around her shoulder, pushing her a little close.

Having enough, the King cleared his throat.

"Charlie! Dear.", he said before pushing between the two, getting them separated. "Why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends!", he pointed towards the group with his end of his staff.

"Oh! Yes, of course!", Charlie said and began introducing Vaggie to her father.

Then someone got his attention with a tap on his arm.

Snapping his head towards the person, he saw the Lilith look alike move their hand back.

"Oh, I apologize. I called out to you but got no response.", they said with a bit of a frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Upset?", he questioned, still wearing his smile.

"Yes, you furrowed your brows a bit when I tapped you.", the small blonde gestured with their finger.

How observant..

"No, I am not upset at all!", he gave a quick closed eyed smile. "And your name is..?"

"Oh, I'm-"

And then they were interrupted when the chandelier fell.

This was supposed to be a oneshot but then I remembered how detailed this would have to be.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑

[teeskzagain]

» warnings: persistent!jeongin, light sex, voyerism, mentions of lee felix

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . prompt: just the tip?₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

seungmin ver. here

» a/n: okay so this is way long than i meant for it to be...but still, enjoy!

"is yongbok still coming over?" you pick up your phone to check the time, watching the minutes tick by and still no sign of your friend.

jeongin rests idly on the basement couch next to you, eyes trained on the trashy movie you decided to put on, "i'm not sure. he said if his study group took too long, he probably wasn't gonna come."

you shake your head at that fact, nodding while turning back towards the television. you absolutely loved the movie that's playing, seeing as it's one of your all time favorites, and placed your full attention back onto it.

you were so focused on the film that not even the touch of a hand being placed onto your leg caused your gaze to falter. no, it wasn't until a somber voice mumbles softly into the air in which you broke your concentration.

"you're legs are so soft, y/n..." jeongin regards your skin with interest, his hand dragging slowly up and down.

confused by the sudden praise, you fleet your eyes towards your friend, about ready to question the compliment when he spews another.

"really. so soft and smooth, they're beautiful.”

“jeongin…” you’re tone is laced with confusion masked by a short smile, “what has gotten in to you?”

as you ask that, he proceeds to slump down further into the couch cushion, lazy eyes staring at the TV ahead but would curiously bounce between your leg then later to your face. his hand is still aimlessly stroking at your skin.

“y/n-ie,” his own sweet grin, the kind that causes his eyes to crinkle, spreads rapidly across, him almost looking boyish, and innocent, “can i put it in really quick?”

your eyes widen at the words. of course. now the pieces are coming together. his eyes sweeping over towards you every so often, the slouched position, and especially with how handsy he’s been. makes perfect sense, actually.

“jeongin, what the hell!” you whisper-shout, scared that one of his siblings would hear. it doesn’t matter if you two are hanging out in his basement living room, you wouldn’t put it past his younger brother to be eavesdropping.

but even as you throw out caution, jeongin continues to stare up at you with a tilted eyes, lust completely devouring them, “well, can i? it can be just the tip.”

your expression reeks of uneasiness. so, yes, you and jeongin are friends, and have been for quite some time now. recently though, however, your friendship has truly grown in terms of closeness. and by that you mean you two are now occasionally sleeping with each other. but, just as friends.

you glance back over your shoulder towards the staircase to see if anyone had been coming, “aren’t your parents home? and what about your brothers?”

“now you’re worried about them?” he raises an eyebrow, his brisk touches now turning into slight coercion of trying to get you to scoot closer towards him, “it hasn’t stopped us before.”

the loud shush you emit followed by your pointer finger silencing his mouth is enough to make anyone suspicious, but you didn’t care. normally you two would fool around in his closed off, private bedroom. never out in the open.

jeongin lolls his head to side and expels a soft sigh, then a tiny laugh, "you're so weird."

"i'm just trying to be careful." you deadpan with a glare as he twists his neck back towards you with the same lustful gaze.

his attention begins to wander from your face down to your throat, then works his way down from there. over your chest, and to your thighs, his mind starts to get cluttered with all too many thoughts, dragging his bottom lip into his mouth, "oh my......"

that baffles you, "are you serious right now?"

"please, just a quick one, y/n? i'm really not asking for much," he does a passive look to his crotch and even you can't deny the bulge pressing against his shorts, "like, you come over looking like that and expect me not to get a boner? seriously, how could you?"

his words make you shift in your seat, your own nervous habit of biting your lip coming into play. as strong as you're trying to be, you'd be a liar if you said you weren't starting to feel some type of way.

at the moment your face slips, jeongin knew he had you. he tugs harder on your leg, and with the last pull do you bring yourself closer. enough to turn slightly towards his lap.

the corners of his lips spring upright as he helps you up fully on to him, relieving a sigh at the instant contact of your covered core and his bulge, "there you go, just like that."

you move around to get comfortable, though with each adjustment and grazes, jeongin's breath quickens, you leaning to the side to speak closer to his ear, "you better be fast too, jeong. dinner's gonna be ready soon."

a hand of his comes around to grip your ass, steading your movements so he can take control, "mmmm."

with his free hand, he reaches down into his bottoms to whip out his cock, which is already standing tall and permeating slick. god, does he look good.

he scoots your shorts and underwear to the side, him already groaning at what's to come. your eyes squeeze shut from anticipation, and at the moment you feel him start to slip in, you let out a squeal.

"yah, you said it was gonna be just the tip." grunting, you attempt to hold back further noises, noting the fact that you're completely full, stretched wide with no space left. he starts to fuck himself in and out of you.

"yeah....." his eyelids buzz from taking his favorite pussy, "but i always forget how fucking good you always feel."

he thrusts a bit further and this time you can't help the shriek that emits from you. throwing your head up to the ceiling and widening your eyes, you allow yourself to succumb to the pleasure as he takes you whole.

but if only you had simply glanced down just a smidge. then, you would've seen a pair of peeping eyes staring deeply at you, hiding on the stairs, watching the lewd scene unfold.

there stood lee yongbok, mouth agape and shocked face at what was before his eyes. because if he had known any better, he had you in quite a similar position....

just...hours...before...this.

[thelostconsultant]

Secrets

pairing: Lestappen x reader

summary: Charles convinces you to join his relationship with Max.

warnings: Well, not much, except for mentions of sexual activities, unprotected sex (wrap it, guys) and pregnancy.

note: Just little snippets stitched together to give you a glimpse into their life.

The plan began to form in Charles’s head when it was announced you would become his race engineer from the 2024 season. As you got closer and got to know each other better, he began to flirt with you, making it quite clear that he wanted something from you, and when he kissed you for the first time, feeling it in his bones that he got you, he finally told you the truth. 

“There’s something you should know,” he told you softly with his hand resting on your cheek. “I’ve been in a relationship for a good… three years now, but me and my partner are looking for someone to play with, someone who would be willing to be a part of our little secret.”

“Why do you keep it a secret?” you asked him, flashing a curious look at him. 

Charles let out a long sigh as he thought about what to say to that. “We are trying to avoid a scandal.”

“So it’s someone people know. Hmm… If I was held at gunpoint and they told me to name one person you might be in a controversial relationship with, my first guess would be Max, but–” When you came to a sudden halt, he knew his expression gave away his surprise that you figured it out on your own. Well, he wasn’t that good at keeping a poker face after all. “No way,” you said slowly, your voice suddenly dropping. 

He smiled at you after shaking off the bad feeling he had. You wouldn’t rat them out, he could tell, but now he was worried you would say no and it would change the way you work together. “Now you know, but please, this has to stay between us.”

You nodded your head a few times. “Sure, I won’t tell a soul.” There was a short pause, but then you looked back at him and said, “So how long have you been looking for a third member for this relationship?”

“We weren’t actively searching. When I met you, I found you attractive, then I got to know you better and realized I like your personality too. Max heard a lot of stories about you, and he was also attracted, so we just came to the rational conclusion that we would love to have you,” he explained. 

You agreed pretty easily. Sure, you did point out that it was only a pilot period, you wanted to see if this could even work, but that was more than enough for Charles. And soon enough you fell in love with them the same way they fell in love with you, and being together in this relationship became the new normal for you.

During race weekends the two of you could spend a lot more time together, easily slipping into his driver’s room to have some fun, but times like this you usually put extra effort into showing Max how much you loved him when you got him in your company again.

Charles was in an extremely good mood in the evening, and when Max finally arrived, he was immediately pulled into a hungry kiss, his back pressed against the now closed door. “Good drive today, pretty boy,” the Dutchman praised him as he placed kisses along his jawline. “Wish we could talk a little more.”

“We can talk now,” he said before letting out a short laugh and slipping out of his grasp to move towards the kitchen. 

Max shook his head with a smile as he glanced into the living room. “Where’s our princess?” he asked with a confused look as he followed the other man.

“Left to take care of something. Actually, it’s good that she’s not here, because I need to talk to you,” Charles said as he passed his boyfriend a glass of soda, who seemed much more interested in what he was about to hear. Rolling his eyes, Charles reached out to take his hand. “Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m not planning to break up with you. I was thinking about why she wanted to go on a date. Do you think she wants to leave us?”

“No, I don’t think so. But… I don’t know, I once overheard a conversation she had with a friend or relative, and she was trying to explain to them why she hasn’t been in a relationship for a while,” he admitted. 

As he sat on a barstool, Charles let out a thoughtful hum. “It’s a good thing you mentioned this, because my idea could actually help this issue,” he began, earning a questioning look. “Maybe it’s time to make things official for our sake.” Max shook his head, but before he could say anything, he went on. “Not us, dummy. I know we agreed to keep it a secret for a few more years. I’m talking about you and her. Just hear me out. I can be seen in her company because she’s my race engineer and we’re friends as far as people know. But you? You’re on a different team, people think we don’t like each other. So if she was dating you, you wouldn’t have to feel left out even on race weekends, and I could jump over to meet her, even if she’s with you.”

With a thoughtful hum, Max rested his forearms on the kitchen island. “That’s… actually… not a bad idea,” he said slowly. “Have you told her about this?”

“No, not yet. I was waiting for you,” came the response. 

Nodding, he moved to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around his body. “Are you sure about this?” Charles let out a confirming hum in response. “Well, if she’s on board, I say let’s do this,” he replied before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Max woke up to the sound of you vomiting in the bathroom. He quickly jumped out of bed to see what was up with you, and when he opened the door, he saw you sitting on the floor with tears in your eyes. With a worried look, he kneeled next to you and kissed the top of your head. “Stomach flu?” he asked you softly. But you shook your head at this, carefully avoiding his gaze. “Tell me, what’s wrong? You’re hiding something.”

“What’s going on?” came Charles’s groggy voice from the door. When Max looked over at him, he saw the way he was rubbing his eyes, but then he focused on the two of you on the floor and quickly woke up. “You okay?”

You groaned, then flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash your face. “I’m fine,” you replied defensively. 

“What are you hiding from us?” Max pressed on, knowing you well enough to sense there was more to the story. 

A minute or two passed in tense silence while they waited for you to finally speak up. Charles moved to be by your side as support, but he was stopped right away. He meant well, but this wasn’t the time to play nice. Max wanted answers, and if he had to be harsh to get them, he was willing to do it. And his strategy worked, because you finally took a deep breath and turned around to rest your hips against the sink. 

Your eyes moved back and forth between the two of them as you said, “I’m pregnant.”

Charles gasped next to him, barely able to hide his bright smile, but Max was hesitant. You had been with them for almost a year, and you had been publicly dating him for a while too, but this? This he wasn’t expecting. It’s not that he wasn’t happy, because he was. But you looked scared and maybe even ashamed, and this was killing him. So he quickly rushed over to you to cup your face with a smile on his face. 

“Are you sure?” When you nodded, he kissed your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” Charles added as he joined you and put his arms on your shoulders. “So… I’m gonna ask. Who’s the father?” he wondered out loud with raised eyebrows. 

Shrugging, you looked down at your hands. “I don’t know. I’m on the pill, but both of you doofuses tend to forget to use a goddamn condom, so it could be either of you,” you mumbled. 

Max looked over at his boyfriend as he bit on his lower lip, feeling guilty since they had agreed at the beginning not to do this. But based on the look on Charles’s face, he wasn’t the only one thinking about this. Of course, this was nothing new for the two of them, they had discussed their preference to fuck you raw countless times, but they never explicitly told you about this. But you weren’t stupid, you just probably loved them enough to let them do what they wanted as long as you all tested yourselves on a regular basis. 

“Are you mad at us?” Charles asked cautiously, but you just shook your head. “Then what’s wrong? I can see there’s something else you’re not telling us.”

“That’s not how you wanted to become parents,” you eventually told them. 

The sentence made Max’s heart clench, and he could tell Charles felt just the same based on the look they exchanged. They had told you about their plan to one day either use a surrogate mother or adopt a child depending on how things stood in their lives. Adoption seemed to be the winning option at the time as they couldn’t decide whose biological child should it be if they chose the surrogacy option. 

But things had changed since then, a lot of things happened and their feelings also changed. Once the Monegasque nodded, Max took a deep breath and prepared to tell you what they were both thinking about at the moment. 

“We love you. Yes, we did have different options in our heads at the time we talked about this, but now you fully belong to us. Our gorgeous and smart girlfriend is pregnant from one of us,” he said with a smile as he tipped your head to make you look at him. “It’s so much better than anything we could dream of. You should be happy now. We’re here, we love you, we’re going to support you the whole time.”

On his side, Charles let out a quiet chuckle, then kissed your temple. “You’re not getting rid of us, baby, don’t even think about it.”

note2: I just wanted a little glimpse into their lives. I don't know if I should write more about them, little snippets or text or idk.