#Yes sir I’m very surprised

[xxxcertifiednerdxxx]

I am normal about this.

[luveline]

I wanted to know how Aaron Hotchner would react to discovering the existence of a daughter (something from college perhaps), she would be his copy both in appearance and personality

—Hotch has a surprise visitor and the world spins on a new axis. daughter!reader, 2.2k

readers physical traits like hair and skin colour are not mentioned, but she is described as looking like her mother (also not described) and as sharing some characteristics with Hotch!<3 I also altered canon so that Hotch and Haley take a break at college 

“There is a kid in your office.” 

“Morgan?” 

Hotch pulls his phone away to check. D. Morgan blinks on his phone screen. It’s a slightly absurd sentence. 

“There’s a child in my office?” he asks, returning the phone to his ear. 

“I’m standing with her right now. She won’t tell me who she is. Anderson let her in.” 

“How old?” Hotch asks, scratching his cheek. God forbid he steal two minutes of peace in the bathroom. 

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m twenty two,” a feminine voice says. 

“You said kid,” Hotch says, frowning. 

“Anyone under twenty five is a kid to me. Are you on your way?” 

He sighs. “Yeah,” he says, and hangs up, dropping the small body of his phone into his pocket. Twenty two isn’t a kid, it’s a year younger than Spencer was when he started at the BAU; Hotch doesn’t underestimate the intelligence of young adults. Why you’re in his office is another thing. He can’t have one day without inconvenience. 

Hotch makes his way into the BAU office and up the stairs to the half level where his own office resides. Morgan leans against the door with his arms crossed, standing to attention when Hotch passes. 

“Thanks, Morgan,” Hotch says. 

Morgan nods, sending a curious gaze at you before he leaves. 

You’re dressed very formally for someone your age, but it’s not as though this is different from the norm of the building. You have on a dark shirt with a starched collar and a fitted blazer, a crisp skirt, and leather Mary Jane heels, one pressed flat to the back of the other. 

You stand when he comes in. 

“Mr. Hotchner?” you ask. 

“Yes?” he asks. 

You have a small file in your hand. Paper with worn edges pokes out of one side as though you’d been looking through it and put it hastily away, and the Manila file itself is fresh.

“Do we know one another?” he asks. 

You look familiar. It’s possible he would’ve known your parents —it could make sense. A colleague or acquaintance assumed he could help you with something, and you in your naivety you made your way in. 

“I think you know my mother.” 

“And she was?” he prompts. Not impolite, but needing to move forward. He’s very busy. 

You take a small step back. “Mr. Hotchner,” you say again, something nervous in your eyes as you lift your chin, “I don’t want to waste your time. I’m aware I might sound foolish, or that this… might not be something you want to hear, but. My mother told me you met in college, and that…” 

You bite your lip. 

He’s incredibly confused now. Not one to let a stranger suffer whether in real pain or awkwardness, he opens his hand. “Can I?” 

“Yes, sir,” you say.

You don’t want to pass it over, but you do as he’s asked. 

The photograph is a shock, held with a paperclip to a magnolia sheet of paper. It’s of Hotch, undoubtedly, a much younger Hotch sitting on a bench with a woman he recognises immediately. He only looks at her, and he knows why you’re here, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

“Do you remember her?” you ask quietly.

He doesn’t answer.

“She says you’re the only man that could… possibly be my father.” You hold your hands behind your back. 

He lifts the photograph. There’s not much else to look at, only your photo ID, your birth certificate where he is glaringly not listed, as well as your mother’s birth certificate, and proof of her enrollment at George Washington University. 

You look a little teary. Trying very hard to be sober, as you have been since he laid eyes on you, but clearly getting more and more upset as time goes on. He’s feeling a similar ache, a searing pain in his chest, staring at you from over the Manila folder to really, really look at you. He swears he can see something of himself in your face, though he’s not sure what. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking. 

There’s certainly some of him in your frown. 

“I think you should sit down,” he says softly. 

You sit down immediately in the chair you’d inhabited a few minutes ago. 

He’s not sure what to say. Are you sure it could only be him? Is your mother? But you’re looking at him with an expression he practically trademarked, whether he wanted to or not, and the proof is in his hands: you’re your mother’s daughter, and Hotch would have slept with her almost twenty three years ago. He doesn’t need much time to do the math. 

“I realise my word alone isn’t a lot to go on, sir, so– so if you’d want to, I’ll of course submit for a paternity test. Or if you want nothing to do with me, that’s okay too.” 

“It’s not okay,” he says, closing your folder. 

Your eyes widen just a touch. 

“Can I sit with you?” he asks. 

You push your chair back to make lots of room. He sits in the chair besides yours, cautious that being across a desk from you is insensitive, or cold, at least. 

He looks at you and he’s sure that you’re his. The longer you sit there, the more sure he becomes.

“I do want a paternity test,” he says, watching your tight nod. 

He believes you. And truly, if he was unsure of what you’re saying he’d still give you grace now, because the first time you meet your father should be full of love. He should’ve been there to hold you in one arm twenty two years ago, he should’ve been there for you through everything he’s already missed. 

“But I believe you,” he says.

“You do?” 

“I’m a very good judge of character. I know that you believe what you’re telling me completely,” he says.

“How?”

“When you’re nervous your hand drifts to your chest, but you didn’t move when you suggested I’m your father. You haven’t once checked the door or looked toward the camera in the corner of the room.” And the full truth. “I want to believe you.” 

“Why?” you ask.

“You look like your mother, but…” He lets himself smile. “You sound like me.” 

You laugh under your breath. “Hopefully not so deep.” 

“I’ve had it described to me as mellifluous.” 

“I’ve wanted to hear your voice since I can remember. My mom didn’t talk about you much, but I’ve always wondered. She told me she didn’t know who you were, and…”

“And you believed her. Any child would do the same.” 

“She’s made mistakes.” You look to him with eyebrows gently pinched, asking him to understand. “But I looked you up. When she told me your name, I looked for you online, and… I always thought I never needed you, even if I wanted to know you. I thought you might want to know me. I thought that a man like you would want to know.”

There’s something you’re not saying. Hotch doesn’t mind. “Of course I want to know you.” 

You chance a smile at him. “You really believe me?” 

“You were expecting me to turn you away.” 

“No, just– I’m not a kid, even if your colleague said so. And I’m not an image of you, I don’t have your eyes. All I have is that photograph. There's not much evidence to go on.” 

He sees no reason why a young girl like you would walk into his office and tell him who you are. Self preservation insists on a paternity test, and soon —UnSubs haven’t ever done something so conniving as imitating a family member yet, but there’s no prediction for evil— but Hotch has an inherent sense of the truth.  

“What do you do?” he asks. 

You frown. “Sorry?” 

“What do you do?” he asks again, “You’re dressed like a lawyer.” 

You nod with a smile you’re pushing into a flat line unsuccessfully. “I’m at GWU. For law, like you and my mom.” 

“She only just told you who I am?” He speaks each word carefully. 

“The photo fell out of an old album, and I had a funny feeling. I asked her about it and she said I’m too much like you. She admitted it like the secret had been eating her alive.” You look at your hand on the armrest. “We aren’t getting along right now.” 

“I don’t know why she wouldn’t tell you. Or me,” he says honestly. 

“I don’t know either.” 

Hotch is expecting a lot more awkwardness than he feels as he puts his hand over yours. You stay very still. 

“Thank you for coming here today.” He gives your hand the barest squeeze and stands. “Have you eaten? I could take you out for dinner,” he suggests. 

You stand with him. “Are you serious?” you ask, gentle and pleased at once. 

“I think you have a lot to tell me, and I’d love to listen.” 

“You’re not working?” 

Sometimes, sometimes, there are things that can be worked around or held on the back burner. You and Hotch go for lunch. 

—

Aaron Hotchner knows many important people. Your paternity test takes a day, less than twenty four hours from the time you both submit samples, but you have a class you can’t miss and he’s sure you’re nervous, so you don’t meet again for two days regardless. By then, you both know the results. (And Aaron’s had to have a very strange conversation with his wife, in which she doesn’t believe him, and then has to sit down.) 

He can admit to being far more protective of you once he knows the truth for sure, though he knows it before the results come back. You’re his daughter, and he’s left you without a father for two decades of your life, your formative years, time he can never get back. 

He doesn’t even know what to do. How can he make up for it? Twenty two years of birthday cards? He feels like buying you a diamond necklace with a stone for each year, and then he wants to buy you a house, but mostly he wants to give you a hug. He thinks about it for so long the morning before he’s scheduled to meet you again that it makes him as upset as he’s ever been in his life, desperate to say sorry to you and your mother and furious with her for keeping you a secret. 

He thinks of all those years without an inkling of your existence, and now you’re the only thing he can think about. His remorse makes him sick. 

You’re smiling when you see him. For a millisecond, you look like Jack. 

“Hi, Mr. Hotchner!” you say, standing from the table, your formal dress and cardigan pressed neatly, your hands held behind your back.

‘Mr. Hotchner’ will need to be fixed quickly, though he won’t force you to call him anything else. He can’t help himself, however.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. 

You pause, and you laugh. “This is weird.” 

He doesn’t mean to make it weirder, but he opens his arms, and he waits for an indication that you might not want a hug before he leans in to hold you. You’re still so young. There’s still time for him to be a good father to you. 

He can’t say everything he needs to in his hug, and at the end of the day he’s a stranger to you; you probably don’t want him to hug you for too long. But he rubs your back, and he promises himself that he won’t let you down twice.

Your arm curls tentatively behind his back. For a second, you press your face to his shoulder and breathe. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away. 

Your lip twitches to one side like his would when presented with such heavy sincerity. “I’m okay. How did, um, Haley take the news?” 

“She just wants to meet you, okay? You’re part of my family now.” 

You give no indication you’ve heard what it is he’s saying to you, or whether you like it as you sit down at the dinner table. He quite likes that some way, somehow, you’ve become like him, but he wonders if he might not love it so much when he asks how your mom is taking this new development and you just smile. 

“We’re going to tell Jack about everything this weekend,” he adds. “He’ll be excited, if no one else.” 

“And Haley doesn’t mind?” 

“She’s not going to ask you to babysit anytime soon, honey, but no, of course she doesn’t. He should meet his sister before she’s too old for legos.” 

You actually laugh. 

Dad humour transcends age, and for that, Hotch is grateful. 

—

only after I finished did I wonder if I misinterpreted the request and this was supposed to be x reader with a shared daughter so if that’s the case I’m sorry original requester!! and I can totally write that if that’s what you meant 🫶❤️

[noemilivv]

What the…

HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …

PARTNERS !! (and before that!)

Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute

Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread

Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!

Charlie Morningstar

Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…

Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.

Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc

Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.

She believes that it has its perks, which it does.

Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.

But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …

Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!

You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!

Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.

Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.

You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.

And yes, you do feel the same.

Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.

GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!

GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.

At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.

But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)

GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!

On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things

But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha

At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol

Vaggie

When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?

Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.

Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.

The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her

Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.

So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.

When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!

Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!

GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)

You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha

At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.

Angel Dust

Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.

But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?

Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.

Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…

One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!

And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…

Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?

And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.

“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.

The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.

“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”

The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!

Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.

BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!

And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.

Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.

And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.

Alastor

When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.

He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.

Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.

He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.

Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!

So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.

BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.

But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.

If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.

But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.

By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.

BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.

And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.

Sir Pentious

Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.

But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.

You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.

This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.

Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.

“Pen.”

“I like you too.”

“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”

Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…

Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!

BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!

So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?

BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!

BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!

Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!

Husker

Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.

Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?

You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.

It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”

And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.

So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”

And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”

From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!

BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.

BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.

He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.

‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.

Niffty

Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.

Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.

So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.

GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.

She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.

Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.

Lucifer Morningstar

Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.

You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.

Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.

Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.

BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.

BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.

BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.

If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.

Adam

Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…

Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).

During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…

Hey hot babe,

wanna do more than just fuck? (date)

And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.

BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.

I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!

At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)

Lute

Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.

And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.

Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.

But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.

And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.

GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)

Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!

— END.

Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)

[misaamoure]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭!!

⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:

“You must be out of your damn mind if you think that’s gonna fit in me.”

Sylus looked almost offended as you pointed down at his obnoxiously large appendage.

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you liked big dicks?”

You and Sylus had finally gotten in the mood to go all the way… until he pulled his pants and boxers down.

The pure shock on your face was an ego booster for him.

Then he developed his own look of pure shock upon you proclaiming that the sex was off.

And upon asking why, your reasoning was, “it won’t fit. Are you stupid?”

Which he immediately responded with, “I’ll make it fit, sweetie. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

This only serves to piss you off more.

However… you couldn’t deny the fact that you were extremely curious.

How would it feel? How deep would it go? Could you actually take it?

All this pondering led to you begrudgingly taking him up on his offer.

“Sylus, please, enough! Just fuck me… already…!”

It felt like he had been eating you out for hours.

Sucking on your clit, sticking his tongue into you, and occasionally slipping a finger in.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” He fixed his sanguine gaze right onto your beautiful face.

You nodded vigorously.

“Alright,” He gave your clit on more kiss before sitting up, palming himself a bit for some kind of relief. “Can you turn over for me, kitten?”

Doing exactly as he asked, you didn’t miss a beat. You were more than eager for it at this point.

You felt Sylus’s warm, hard, heavy body embrace yours, as you two were in the prone bone position.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay, Y/N?” You felt him kiss your shoulder tenderly.

“Yes sir.”

“You promise?”

Oh here he goes. You could sense Sylus’s bullshit from a mile away.

“Yes I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Get the fuck on with it already!”

“I’m gonna count down from three.” You felt him run his tip up and down, paying extra attention to your sensitive clit.

“Nnngh… whatever!” He chuckled at your increasing frustration. You were just so cute like this.

“One…”

You felt Sylus thrust his entire cock in at once, making you gasp as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Sylus what the fuck?!” You looked back at him over your shoulder in disbelief.

“It’s better like this, trust me.”

If you were in a state to argue with him, you would. But right now in this moment, you were in no state to tell him off.

You felt so fucking full. It felt like he was in your guts. Big. So big.

And oddly enough… you loved it.

It felt so warm and intimate. Made you wonder what a creampie could be like.

The sensation of Sylus beginning to move inside of you knocked you out of your thoughts.

He was going so incredibly slow… you could feel every single inch, vein, and curve as he slowly pulled half of himself out and thrusted all of it back in.

“Oh my god, it’s so good,” You said breathlessly, barely able to register the feeling of anything but being stuffed to the brim. “It’s so good… what do I do?”

You heard Sylus groan deeply before a dark chuckle escaped his throat.

“Sit back and enjoy, kitten. That’s all you need to do.”

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:

“No Zayne, it’s not gonna fit, I’m serious!”

“We haven’t even tried yet, Y/N. Relax, please.”

While Zayne’s calm demeanor was often grounding, right now you found it nothing short of annoying.

Your little heart was about to beat right out of your chest… you were sure he could practically hear your heartbeats right now. No stethoscope needed!

It was your first time together… neither of you two had seen each other naked before.

So imagine your surprise when Zayne casually pulls his boxers down to reveal the absolute weapon in his pants.

It wasn’t just big length wise… it was thick. Very thick.

And so so pretty. His dick was so incredibly pretty.

A gorgeous pink tip that faded in color towards the base. Like it was made just for you.

You always caught glimpses of his bulge through his slacks, but you didn’t expect it to be so… huge?

A jaw dropping reveal.

Knowing you like the back of his hand, Zayne obviously felt your concerned gaze on him.

And he promised to get you ready for him properly.

Fingering you for a good hour… making you cum multiple times and stretching you out like the good man he was.

“Do you think you’re ready now?” He was between your legs in missionary, staring down at you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed.

“I’ll go slow, I promise.” Zayne kissed you lovingly on the cheek.

You nodded, skin brushing against his as he pulled away.

Gasping as you felt his tip rub up and down your folds, you felt him experimentally push into you to see how much force it would take to enter you.

“Zayne…”

“I know. I’ve got you.”

His soothing words did nothing but assure you. Zayne had every bit of your trust, and he had earned it all.

He entered you slowly, using exact force to get just the tip in.

The sensation of that alone made you toss and turn.

He kept pulling out, and pushing in… and pulling out and pushing in… each time inching a bit more of his cock inside you.

“So big… Zayne it’s so big…” You whined out, eyes shut as you weakly pressed as his pelvis with your palm.

“If you’re saying it’s big when I’ve just managed to fit half of my cock inside you,” Zayne struggled to muffle his own sounds between words. “You’re in for a much harder time than you think.”

He continued his method from before… slowly inching more and more of his cock in a he fucked in and out of you slowly.

The pain was undeniable. But something else was also undeniable.

You felt so incredibly full inside. It felt amazing. The fullness mixed with the invigorating friction of each thrust was intensifying by the minute.

“So good… I think… it’s so good… more please…!”

Zayne chuckled at your admission.

“How about this?” Zayne leaned forward to lean on his forearms above you, grinding his thick cock into you with each stroke. “Does that feel good?”

“Yessss… yeah! Feels so good… Zayne!” You’re pretty sure you were babbling like an idiot, but you just couldn’t help it.

Dipping down, he caught your lips with his for a deep kiss.

Pulling away, his eyes bore deep into yours. So deep that you could see yourself reflected in them.

“Do you want me to go faster now?”

“Yes… please… Zayne…!”

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

--

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

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[shuadotcom]

don't wannna wait on it (m)

> summary: if it’s a crime to want to have sex at every opportunity with your incredibly sexy boyfriend then you’ll gladly accept your sentence. > pairing : na jaemin x fem!reader > genres & aus: established relationship au, non!idol au, smut, porn with absolutely no plot, the occasional small fluff bits because i’m me rating: 18+ [MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED] > warnings/content: car sex, rough sex, clit & tit slapping, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl/pretty girl/slut), unprotected sex, creampie, one mention of a ‘sir’ kink, lowercase writing > words: 3.6k > note: hi i’m back?! 🫣 this was not something in my wips nor was it a request. i didn’t even plan on writing for the dreamies anytime soon but na jaemin is my all consuming sleep paralysis demon and i’m unbearably whipped for him so this happened over the weekend when i was high and staring at pictures of him so surprise~🧍🏽‍♀️ thank you to my love @horanghater for beta reading this and always being my biggest cheerleader 🩷❤️

he smiles that megawatt, heart-stopping smile at you. the corners of his mouth quirk up, lush pink lips stretching over two rows of perfect teeth. jaemin’s smile has always been your favorite physical feature on him.

“yes, of course, i love the rest of you!”

“but what about-”

“yea jaem - that includes your dick.” is usually some variation of how the conversation would go between the two of you when you complimented his smile. of course he knows you love him, and that you’re in love with him, but who would he be if he didn’t whine his way into getting more compliments from you?

jaemin’s smile is something that needs to be immortalized in a mural on the sistine chapel ceiling, or however, the damn saying goes.

it’s hard to remember much when he’s fucking your last remaining brain cells out of you..

“if only you could see yourself right now, baby girl - so fucked out you can’t even focus on me for more than a second,” jaemin sighs at you, eyes focused on the way your eyes cross and mouth twists in a choked cry.

you wanted so badly to strike back with something sassy, but his thumb has moved to stroke your clit just the way you like and the breath is knocked out of you.

jaemin’s left hand, the one gripping your thigh like a lifeline as it hangs limply around his waist, shifts downward to the back of your knee. he lifts your leg to drape it over his shoulder. his cock wedges deeper into you, the sensation completely blocking out the way your knee hits the roof of the car on the way up.

in the very back recesses of your brain you conjure enough sense to be happy that jaemin had driven your suv out tonight. fucking him in his sedan would’ve been doable, but a little trickier.

you would know since he has in fact, fucked you in his car before. comfort makes all the difference.

it had been him that needed you that night, the dress you’d worn for jeno’s birthday party at his favorite club making it impossible for jaemin not to watch you all night. just seeing you standing and talking to your group of friends had him locked in, his heavy gaze watching your every move. when he finally got his hands on you, he could only focus on dancing with you for a single song before he was dirty talking you out of the club and onto your hands and knees in the backseat of his bmw.

tonight, it just so happened to be your turn to shamelessly ogle your boyfriend like a woman starved.

in your defense, it is literally his fault. he’d been teasing you all day.

your boyfriend had taken it upon himself to wake you up this morning by crawling between your legs and rousing you out of your sleep with his lips attached to your clit. apparently, he missed you so much while you were asleep he couldn’t wait to have a taste of you as soon as his eyes opened.

you didn’t have a problem with it, nor did you have a problem with the way his hands took every opportunity to find your hips, your side, your ass, or your hands with his own as the day went on. you cleaned your shared apartment before getting ready for your friends’ housewarming gathering later and jaemin couldn’t keep his hands off of you - again, not that it was a bad thing.

what did end up being a bad thing - for you at least - is how wound up he left you, only to leave the house for your outing tonight looking like the sexiest man on the planet (as if he didn’t already do that every day).

jaemin wore dark denim jeans and a casual blazer - a very normal outfit in your opinion.

except, under his blazer was a form-fitting tank top. the get-together was only a handful of friends and the hosts made it clear it was an extremely casual time so neither of you had to worry over an outfit to wear. still, the moment jaemin decided to take his blazer off and you watched as his shoulders, arms, and the thick vein that runs up his bicep whenever he flexed became visible, you wished he had worn a three-piece suit instead.

how the hell were you supposed to be normal when he had riled you up so much over the course of the day? and of course, even in the car ride over, he had let his hand rest on your bare thigh, fingertips casually resting just under the bottom of your skirt. you wanted more than anything for him to creep those thick fingers up the rest of the way and find their way into your panties.

he didn’t though, he instead talked about how excited he was for donghyuck and his partner, your best friend, to have finally been able to get their own house. it made jaemin talk wistfully about when the two of you would do the same. your heart would normally be fluttering in your chest at how sweet your boyfriend of four years is and how much it made you fall even more in love with him when he talked about your future together.

and while yes, you were feeling that giddiness, your pussy was also throbbing, panties sticking uncomfortably against you as his fingers danced on your skin, but made no move upwards.

so, again, it was hardly your fault that you needed him so badly. that’s why, at some point in the night, you simply lost all decorum. it was when jaemin came into the kitchen while you were trying to decide which appetizer to distract yourself with. he was still just in his undershirt and had the nerve to smile at you.

“hey, beautiful,” he immediately came over to place a kiss on your cheek. your back was to him so he casually draped himself over you, back-hugging you as he surveyed the food options. “having fun?”

you hummed in affirmation, suddenly getting distracted as he pressed into you, reaching over your body to grab a slice of pizza. his chest was so solid behind you, his warmth striking the match that was your overwhelming thirst for him.

“yeah, but i’d be having more fun if you were fucking me right now.”

jaemin’s eyes widened, head tilting as he studied you. “oh yeah?” he sounded genuinely intrigued. “and where is that coming from?”

rolling your eyes, you scoffed at him, pushing your ass back into his bulge behind you, jaemin letting a grunt sound in his throat.

“you’ve been messing with me since you woke me up!” he smirked at the memory, obviously not sorry one bit. “then, you spent the whole day groping me like a perv!”

he gasped, “first of all, i’m offended that me wanting skinship with my girlfriend whom i love so much makes me a perv!”

“still! and then you walk around this house in this tight shirt with your arms just out!”

“is it not warm in here?! it’s not my fault donghyuck won’t let us turn the aircon lower!”

you flipped around, wrapping your arms around his waist, surprising him again.

“jaem, please can we go home? i need you so bad,” you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes, jutting your lip out for good measure. jaemin’s willingness to give into you would typically depend on how nice or how mean he was feeling that day.

unfortunately for you, it was obvious he wasn’t going to give you what you want anytime soon. a downright devilish smirk overtook him as he pressed against you, his bulge pressing into your belly. your grip on his waist tightened as you felt in real time, his dick hardening against you.

“honestly, i had no idea i was getting you so flustered, baby girl,” one of his hands moves to hold your waist, grinding against you once more. “but now that i know, i think instead of leaving now, it’ll be much more fun to make you wait until later.” as soon he says that, he snatches his hold on you away, separating your bodies before you can grab at him again.

“jaemin!” you pout, arms falling to your side.

“besides, it would be rude to leave our friends’ gathering celebrating this milestone in their lives! you wouldn’t want to do that, right sweetheart?” you cross your arms. that was true - you didn’t want to leave the celebration early just to run off and have sex with your boyfriend - even if your body was practically buzzing at the sight of jaemin just standing in front of you. “plus, sometimes i just love making you unbearably horny. you get so fucking desperate for me.”

he had the nerve to giggle at the scoff you let out as he blew you a kiss and left the kitchen.

and you hate how right he was. you were so pathetically desperate for him. you kept your eyes on him all night and quickly got tired of just looking, so you decided to flip the script on him, using every excuse you got to touch or rub up on him.

your ass rubbed against him as you inserted yourself into a conversation with he and jeno. your nail scraped across his firm chest as you scooted past him to get to the bathroom. you made sure to grip the highest part of his thigh when for “stability” as you rose from the couch to go talk to a friend.

it was partially to tease him right back and partially to fulfill your scorching need to feel him up. you were admittedly shameless in your lust for him, but so what? if it’s a crime to want to have sex at every opportunity with your incredibly sexy boyfriend then you’ll gladly accept your sentence.

by the time the night was over and goodbyes were shared, you knew your actions were anything but criminal.

“just so you know, when we get home i’m going to do so much more than eat your slutty little cunt out,” he says low enough for only you to hear, which combined with the way his fingertips dug into your lower back as he walked you to the car, was anything but a punishment.

excitement coursed through your veins - when jaemin started to say absolutely filthy things to you before using his soft words as foreplay, you knew he wanted you in more of a carnal way than anything slow and drawn out. he needed you then just as badly as you had needed him.

“oh yeah?” you mused, pretending to be surprised by his admission. you unabashedly smiled up at him, amused by the way he frowned back in response.

“yeah,” he said simply, opening your passenger door, holding your hand as you stepped up and in, not saying another word.

you had known he was going to fuck your brains out when you got home, but what you hadn’t known was that he’d decide he couldn’t wait anymore. that instead of waiting to bend you in half at home in your bed, he was going to pull onto a side road on the way home and do it. the road was still under construction, so it was a dead end with no one nearby, all the workers having gone home for the night.

jaemin drives his hips into the backs of your thighs faster, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing against the fogged-up windows.

“ja-aemin!” your back arches up when he takes his thumb away from your clit to readjust your hips on the seat.

he tuts at you, his hand quickly moving back between you to smack at your clit, the sting pushing a squeal out of you.

“patience, my slutty baby. i’m making sure you don’t fall.” he smacks your bud again, hand going back to your hips and forcefully slowing your movement down. he ignores your pleas and protests for him to do anything other than stop.

“jaemin, no no no no please!”

“fuck i love when you beg for me like this. my pretty, needy girl.”

“yes, yes, jaem please, i’m so needy.”

jaemin bites his lip, slowly rotating his hips. it’s not fast enough to give you any relief from the pressure building in your stomach and you whine out louder in frustration.

“needy for what exactly?” he’s teasing you because of course he is.

“you, jaemin!”

“what about me?”

“oh my god, jaemin, your dick! i need your dick and i need you to fuck me and make me cum! please!” you’re more irritated when you say it, your orgasm having been taken from you.

“i know, i just like to hear you say it,” jaemin chuckles.

“you’re so annoying!” you grunt, trying to move your hips to set the pace yourself. instead, jaemin presses them down into the cloth seats, leaning over your body to bring his face directly in front of you.

you stop your squirming to gasp, surprised by his proximity. his dark eyes sweep over your face before he’s leaning down to kiss you, plump lips moving against yours with hunger and determination. you instantly kiss him back, eyes slipping closed as jaemin’s tongue caresses yours, both of you sighing into the other. jaemin reaches up to cradle your head and he deepens the kiss, but only for a few more seconds. he pulls away, giggling at the tiny “noooooooo” you whimper, going so far as to kick your legs the best you could, throwing a tantrum.

jaemin coos at you, sitting up straighter. his hands skillfully reach for the buttons on your blouse, undoing them with little effort and pulling your bra up, making sure your tits fall out the bottom and tucking the unneeded fabric under your chin.

“jaem! i’m going to die if you don’t finish what you started!”

jaemin brings a heavy hand down, smacking your right tit, making you scream. “hush, brat! i wanted to see your tits while i fuck you.”

you humph at him, turning your head to look away from him with an attitude.

jaemin rolls his eyes as he repositions himself, slowly entering your waiting pussy again, and watches as your eyelids flutter closed, frown melting away as your mouth opens.

“you’re lucky i need to fill you up now or else i’d make you wait till we’re home.”

you barely hear him as inch-by-inch of jaemin slides into you until he’s bottomed out, stretching your walls out as if he hadn’t just been pumping into you minute ago.

jaemin carefully positions both legs over his shoulders, bending down into your space, both to witness the stunning expressions he’ll get you to make up close and to not risk hitting his head on the roof of your car.

the position allows it to feel as though jaemin fills you up even more, crowding so close to you that all you see, all you hear, all you smell is jaemin. if you lean up close enough, you may be able to kiss him again so you can taste jaemin too.

that stops being an option once he finally starts to move his hips and thrusts into you, wasting no time to ease you into it. jaemin grinds into you with a force that makes the car start to shake again.

“shit - jaem!”

“feel good, baby girl?”

“so so good!”

jaemin shuffles his lower half closer to you, pushing you further up the seat with each rough thrust. he manages to lean closer to pepper your faces in sloppy kisses with each snap of his hips.

“so fucking beautiful,” jaemin groans, the blunt nails on his left hand dig into the sensitive skin of your thighs as he bullies his cock into your sopping pussy harder, harder, and harder again, your cries for him nothing but incomprehensible nonsense at this point.

when the positioning of his hips changes an inch, it’s just enough to have the fat head of his cock knocking into your g-spot over and over again.

“fuuuuck! yes, right there jaem baby, right there!” you shriek, nails digging into his thick biceps as you cling to them, your head spinning with pleasure.

“open your eyes, pretty girl,” jaemin nearly growls. “look at me when you cum.”

it feels almost impossible, but you do as you’re told, prying your teary lashes open to meet jaemin’s gaze. you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, eyes dark, pupils blown out as he stares you down. his black hair is sticking to his face as a few sweat droplets trail down the side of his face and drip, making his beautiful, honeyed skin glow. 

your eyes follow, catching sight of the way his gold chain dangles over you as he snakes his hand between your bodies again, this time returning his fingers to your aching clit, twisting and rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive bud with a purpose.

“jaem…baby, i-i i’m so close. s-so close!”

“yeah? gonna cum for me baby girl?”

“mmhmm!”

“gonna be my good girl and make a mess for me to clean up when we get home?” jaemin’s words are strained, his own end also approaching.

“yes! anything please, jaem, just wanna cum! can i, please?”

“only if you look at me while you do,” he commands, pulling your gaze away from his sculpted chest.

when your eyes lock with his, jaemin immediately smiles at you again, this time in the cocky, self-assured way he always does when he watches you breaking down and falling to pieces for him.

“cum for me, pretty girl. come on and cream all over my fat cock,” jaemin demands, finger pressing against your clit at the same time that his cock drills into your spot for the final time needed to have your toes curling and vision turning white as you cum, nails nearly breaking skin on jaemin’s arms as you do.

through the static filling your ears, you can hear his moans getting louder and high-pitched.

he keeps his heavy eyes locked on you until he can’t anymore and his body stutters, then he’s cumming hard, lids clenching shut as ropes of white warmth fill your hole and drip out around jaemin’s twitching dick.

he rests his head against your chest, his sweaty hair making your bare skin itch. even so, you let him stay for a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth of his breath with each exhale.

eventually, you have to call his name a few times, tapping the top of his head. he doesn’t respond at first, so you have to shake him harder and he finally sits up.

“hmm?”

“were you asleep?!”

“no, but i didn’t wanna leave. your tits are so soft,” jaemin pouts, hands cupping both of your breasts and squeezing. he almost gets you - your head nearly lolling back as his thumbs roll over your nipples.

you fight it though, pinching his side which makes him yelp.

“you can play with my tits when you get us home if we leave right now.”

your boyfriend sighs, but straightens himself up, gingerly pulling his softening length out of you. he can’t help but hesitate to watch in fascination when his cum leaks out from between your puffy pussy lips, only looking away when you close your legs.

“babeeeeee!”

“babe nothing! home now!” you push him away with your foot and sit up to pull your skirt down.

“fine, but you better hold all my cum inside you till we get there. i need to fuck it back into you.”

you pretend to think, jaemin making eye contact with you through the rearview mirror when you hesitate. “mmm okay…but only if you promise to fill me up again right after.” jaemin lets out a huff through his nostrils, throwing the car into drive.

“seatbelt, baby,” he tells you, waiting for you to do so before he peels away. “good girl.”

the timber of his voice has you clenching around nothing, already missing the heaviness of jaemin stretching your walls to their limit.

“anything for you, sir.” the words are sticky sweet and jaemin has to count to five because he’s sure he’ll explode if you keep it up.

“you love playing with me, don’t you?” jaemin mumbles through gritted teeth, wishing more than anything that red lights were never invented as he slows to a stop, traffic laws delaying him in getting to his destination.

“i do. not my fault i always wanna fuck my gorgeous boyfriend.” you lean up when you speak, placing a kiss on the shell of his ear.

“fuck baby…” he trails off, getting momentarily distracted when your tongue starts licking up the side of his neck, your teeth biting down on his shoulder. he refocuses when you pull away, smiling flirtatiously at him in the mirror. “it’s a good thing then that i love fucking my gorgeous girlfriend, huh?” he looks at you for a second longer before stepping on the gas when the light turns green.

“it’s because we’re perfect for each other.”

you see jaemin’s reflection in the driver’s side window and catch him smiling wide - the sight prompting you to do the same.

“yeah, i guess we are,” jaemin concludes, still smiling as he makes a turn, your apartment only a few blocks away. you watch his reflection, loving his smile as you always do, but you also can’t wait to see the way he’ll smile down at you when you get home and you get his dick in your mouth.

jaemin’s smile is your favorite feature of his - no matter how you’re making him do it.

net tag: @kbookshelf

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : I’m back!! am i still sick? yeah a lil~ But I can finally look at my phone 🥹. Thank yall for waiting and supporting NOTP series 🧡.

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Warnings : Cursing, Grammatical Errors

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 7 | Next >

“I have nothing to say to you”

“Ok, then let me do the talking. Y/N I’m really sorry”

“Lando, you apologizing wont make what you did go away! Can’t you just leave me alone??”

“I will, I promise… i just want to end everything correctly… please let me. Y/N please”

“i’m already happy Lando.”

“I know that Y/N and I’m happy for you! I don’t want everything to be awkward with Oscar when we do see each other.”

“For Oscar…”

Y/N. 3m

story replies

oscarpiastri am i crazy or is the coffee we make in your flat better than this??

Y/N. No lie youre so right, this coffee lowkey is not it.

oscarpiastri I thought I was tweakin. Where are you btw?? I left for the bathroom for 3 mins and ur gone??

Y/N. uhh… im looking for popcorn :DD

oscarpiastri How aren’t you getting a stomachache with the things you eat baffles me .

Y/N. Ion know myself dude 🤷🏼‍♀️ I’m amazing like that

oscarpiastri well no need to look, they have it at the plane. I asked John if the plane stocked popcorn and yes they do

Y/N. Really? You’re literally the bestttt 🥺🫶

Y/bf Y/N L/N when I found out that you’ve died from caffein overdose I wont even be surprised 😀

Y/N. I just wont die, simple as that my dearest best friend.

Y/bf just have fun and give em hell 🤭 . Oh! my chocolates dont forget!! Safe travel luv 🫶

Y/N. Oh they wouldn’t know what hit em. I will bring chaos . I wont forget your chocolates y/bf!!. And thank youu

maxverstappen1 Y/NNnnnnnnnnn I’m sorry 😩

Y/N. Sorry? and you are?

maxverstappen1 I changed my password already! Plsss do not be mad >:((

logansargeant Y/N are you going to the raceeeee???!!

Y/N. well yes I am American Boi

logansargeant why am i always the last to know?!!

Y/N. Sorry (Lmao I’m not)

logansargeant Ur so mean to me >:((

oscarpiastri

story replies

Y/N. 🧡🧡🧡

oscarpiastri food was 🔥 music was 🔥 the pretty girl held my hand also 🔥.

Y/N. Is it safe to assume you liked everything then…. 🫣

oscarpiastri YES i did! I’d wife you up if you’d let me.

Y/N. I haven’t met your family yet SIR. 🤨

oscarpiastri That wasn’t a no. If the last song in your album wasnt a proposal…. 🤭

Y/N. OK! you win. Be grateful I love you. Now stop looking at ut phone you need to focus on your debriefing! I could ser John glaring at you rn!!

charles_leclerc is that Y/N’s Unreleased album????!!!

oscarpiastri why yes father, it is 😌.

charles_leclerc and you and Y/N are not letting me listen?? HOW DARE YOU TWO 😭

oscarpiastri Sorryyy . I get first listens ~ you wait for the release of Heartbreak club like the otherss😛

charles_leclerc even Alex is freaking out!!! comeonnn Son. Just 1 song plsss.

oscarpiastri ask Y/N 🙂‍↕️ She’s the genius behind this masterpiece (that i get to listen to whenever i want 😛😛😛)

charles_leclerc I will revoke your adoption! Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc.

logansargeant Heartbreak Club??? Isnt that the name of you and Y/N’s club for people who got cheated on

oscarpiastri the very same HAHAHAHAHA

logansargeant so its about Lando cheating???

oscarpiastri Yes and No… and I’m not allowed to elaborate further!

logansargeant Boi without me there wouldnt even be a club with you and Y/N~ mate yall owe me 🥰😀

f1wags

liked by user1 , user2, and others

f1wags Oscar and Y/N are already in Belgium🫶 .

user1 Oop, is Y/N going to attend the race 🫣

user2 Ohhhh I really hope so! Plss plss

user3 I really miss Y/N in the paddock. Miss ma’am pls mark your territory! Ion like that other girl there 🤡 Ur tainting the McLaren brand pls exit the premises.

user2 The height difference is so 🥰🫶🧡

user3 I offer myself as their child or their pet I dont care. Pls just have me

user4 Their future child would be troy bolton i swear. To sing or to do sports 😩

user5 HAHAHAHAHAHHA I could so imagine it.

user6 BET ON IT!

user7 I SAW THEMMM 😭 they were do cute I can’t!! Y/N was so busy yapping and Oscar was just smiling at her and nodding. Boi is just happy to be there, Oscar same.

user8 I still cant believe that Osc knows the tracks inside Y/N’s album

oscarpiastri

liked by Y/N., mclaren, charles_leclerc , carlossainz55, and other

oscarpiastri Touch down and Landed 🛩️ Excited to get behind the wheel!

charles_leclerc what is with you and spa (wdym landed?? you’re literally here since Tuesday??)

alexandrasaintmleux let him have his fun, babe.

Y/N. Yeah! have your own timeline Lechuck

oscarpiastri listen to the ladies, Mate. It’ll do you good.

charles_leclerc I love my life and the people in it 😀

mclaren Locked and Ready 💪 Let’s go for Podium!!

user1 LETS GO OSC!!

user2 continue the podium streak champ!!

user3 Oscar future WDC , i’m calling it

user4 Oscar looks extra pookie todayyy 🥰

user5. Ah Y/N effect 🙂‍↕️~ I see your man girl!

user6 Y/N’s influence on Osc is really showing fr. Ma’am ur doing amazing work!

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[intoxicated-chan]

Breeding Kink Miguel O'Hara?👉🏻👈🏻🥺

We’re Both Sinners

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel couldn’t describe it, for the first time, he felt like he lost all sense of control.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ I gotchu! Inspired by “Sinners” by The Ari Abdul. Also, I’m sorry that this seems rushed, I haven’t written a lot of smut before so apologies!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 877

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, breeding kink, sexual content, p in v, pet names (Mi Amor), office sex, bruises, biting, nearly caught? Fingering… Please let me know if I missed anything!

The first time was a complete accident. Miguel had no clue that the condom broke so suddenly, he really shouldn’t be surprised since of how hard he was going. It took the cum leaking out of your cunt that sparked something inside of him.

Of course, he’d never do anything without your permission but every time, the words were at the tip of his tongue. How much he wanted to beg you to let him take off the condom and let him fuck you raw. He was getting harder and harder every time, he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he wasn’t going to be able to control himself.

It was so distracting that he couldn’t even contain himself during work. The shame he felt during important meetings when he felt himself get hard by the simple thoughts. The embarrassment he felt when he was forced out of his thoughts and everyone was staring at his flustered face. Never again. He couldn’t let that happen again.

You noticed his distraction from day one. He seemed lost in thought and papers began piling up on his desk. You knew that it wouldn’t be long before Miguel returned to his home office and remained there late into the night.

It was supposed to be a simple visit. Bring him his lunch and talk with him. His office was dark, almost pitch black but it was normal. The only light was the very small lamp on his desk, facing away from him.

You set his lunch down next to his laptop and sat down at the chair in front of his desk.

You waited a few seconds before you called his name, “Miguel~” You waved a hand in front of his face, and it made him jolt, “I brought you lunch.”

“Uh, thank you, mi amor.” He smiles. You could see him avoiding your gaze.

“How was the meeting?” You begin to poke at him.

“It went well. We went over some numbers that an employee messed up. And-”

“Miguel.”

“Yes?”

“You do know that there was no meeting. Not a single one today.” You sigh, “What’s got you so distracted that it’s affecting your work?”

He glanced at you but immediately turned away when your eyes didn’t move from his. You leaned in, “Please, talk to me.” You whispered.

He felt his cock twitch, “Don’t say that.” He huffs heavily.

“Don’t say what?”

He hissed, “You don’t know how you affect me, do you?” He chuckled, “Teasing me and all.”

He suddenly reached over and grabbed the collar of your shirt, “You said you wanted me to talk, alright then. I’ll show you what’s got my head in a blender.” You can see his blood-red eyes seeping past his brown ones.

“Has anyone seen Mr. O’Hara?” One employee asked another, holding a stack of papers in his arms, “I have the papers he requested.”

“I was told not to bother him.” Another told him.

“Seriously? After I spent hours going through everything he just gave me.” He shakes his head and walks towards his office.

“I wouldn’t-” The employee ignores the other one who sighs, “Do that.” Leaving him to face the consequences.

The employee managed to free one hand and used it to knock on the door, “Mr. O’Hara?” Silence, “Sir?”

“I thought I made it clear that I am to be bothered,” Miguel growls.

“I’m sorry sir but-”

“Come back later!”

The employee huffed but walked away.

“Nearly got us in trouble.” Miguel seethed, feeling you tighten around him as he continues his brutal pace.

“B-But he didn’t hear anything.” His hand slaps over your mouth to silence you.

“But he could’ve and I can’t have that happening.” He whispers in your ear.

Miguel has you bend over his desk. Whatever was originally on his desk was now on the floor. One hand remained on your mouth and the other was gripping your hip.

Your neck is littered with bruises and maybe a bite or two from his fangs. Your hair is a mess from moments ago.

You continue to moan into his hand, “It’s like you want to be caught. Is that what you want?” He removes your hand and grabs a chunk of your hair, tugging, “You want everyone to see how much of a whore you are for their boss. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

Miguel let his control slip, hearing himself groan and you cry… He pounded into you harder than ever. You felt another orgasm come and you completely lost count.

But it wasn’t long before his thrusts became sloppy, and soon you heard him loudly groan, cumming inside of you.

He released your hair and his grip on your waist, but he remained over you. His hands support his tired body, “Still distracted?” You pant.

You try getting up but he pushes you back down, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“You still have work.”

“I’m sure they don’t mind having their boss without a few more hours.” You let out a yelp when you felt two of his fingers thrust into you, “Besides, I can’t have this going to waste.”

“But today’s meeting is important!” You retort.

“I’ve got two hours, you’ll be more than filled up by then.”

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 7: Price’s Date

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Price x Reader, inaccuracies around gun-related stuff, use of Sir (like a brat), something with cameras.

Not too far away, at the base, a phone rings inside Price's office. His eyebrow furrows for a second at the unknown ringtone, until he remembers is the burner phone he has with only your number on it, the same case for all the 141 task force. An extra security step he is more than willing to take. 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks, once he picks up the phone, worry clear in his voice. 

“Nothing!” You quickly reassure him. “I was just wondering… are you busy tomorrow?”

Price looks at his agenda, it is filled to the brim with meetings and things to do. “I could move some things, why?”

“I thought you would like to go on a date… with me?”

“Are you… are you asking me out on a date, doll?”

You remain silent for a second. “Maybe… Only if you want…”

“I do!” He quickly says before you can step back. “I just thought it would be me asking you out.”

“So do it.”

Price chuckles, the sound travelling through to your ears making you smile. “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You quickly answer. “I would like it very much, John.” 

The sound of his name leaving your mouth travelling straight to his dick. “Sounds like a date then, love. I’ll drop by the house tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you then the time, sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect.” You mutter back. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, love.”

After another beat of silence, the beep beep beep indicates one of you hung up. 

Price claps his hands as if his football team just scored a goal before quickly collecting himself and getting back to work wanting to get done as much as possible. 

On the other side of the line, Johnny keeps teasing you about how you looked like a teenager asking his crush out while Simon laughs at the both of you.

“You are just teasing me ‘cause you are jealous you were not the first one.” You say sticking your tongue to him as you sit on Simon’s lap like a kid hiding behind his parent.

Johnny looks at you offended while Simon laughs at him before adding. “She got you there, mate”

“Good morning, lovie.” Price says smiling when you open the door for him in the morning, stepping aside to let him in. “Good morning, John. I’m still having breakfast, want to join me?” You ask smiling.

“I’ll join you to the end of the world, love. Breakfast is just a plus.” He says dropping a kiss to your forehead as he walks in. “I brought you this.” He adds, raising his hand and letting you see the bag he is holding.

“And what is that?” You ask taking the bag from his hand when he lends it to you. You leave it on the table as you fill a second cup with coffee for him, both of you sitting down before you take the bag again to check what's inside. “Oh! This is mine!” You say surprised.

Price smiles back at your surprised expression and says: “We went back to your apartment, picked up everything that we left the last time. It is mostly bathroom stuff, and some clothes we were able to find.” 

“Aw, John… Thank you, really.” You say looking through your stuff, until you come across an unfamiliar red colour. “John?”

“Yes, doll?”

“How many women being followed by terrorists do you know?

“Hm, a couple actually. You are the only one I'm hiding, though.”

“Johnathan!” You exclaim slapping his arms when he laughs. He grabs your hands, kissing your knuckles and keeps your hand on his.

“Keep saying my name and we will not be leaving the house today, love.” He says looking at your eyes with a smirk on his face.

“Another chance, John. How many?” You ask, raising a finger keeping the rest interlocked with his, raising an eyebrow. 

“Only you, love. I promise.” He says smiling softly, no teasing left in his voice. “I bought you that dress, for tonight, you silly girl. You could get me on my knees in your pyjama, but I assumed you would rather wear something fancier.”

“Oh.” You say a little bit embarrassed, but accepting the compliment. “Okay.” 

He chuckles softly at you, drinking his coffee and standing up, he cups your face with both his hands before kissing your lips harshly before pulling away. “I'll pick you up at seven, love. Be ready by then.” 

You nod quickly, he gives you one more kiss and he says goodbye before heading out to work.

You basically start getting ready after lunch, you don't have much to do anyway. So you run yourself a bath, taking your time, not a rush in you. 

It makes you think about how your life was just a couple of days ago, you didn't even have a bathtub and now? Two baths in two days! 

The dress Price brought you fits you like a glove, and you make a mental note to ask about it. Almost your whole back is exposed, the dress almost reaching the floor with the heels on. You choose a red lipstick that luckily matches the red colour of the dress and decide to do your hair up so it doesn't cover your back. 

You look at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom, happy with the result. And if there was any bit of self-doubt left in you, it quickly dissipates the moment you walk into the living room where the other three men are currently at. Laughing when their mouth falls open like in the cartoons.

“Fuckin' hell, bonnie.” Johnny groans looking at you.

“Alright, is she ready?” Price asks entering the flat, a small bouquet of roses in his hand and a suit that could be tailored by how well it fits him. You walk up to him smiling, bending down a bit to smell the flower. “For me?” You ask softly.

He nods, unable to find words to answer and helps you take the bouquet taking care that you won't touch any thorn. Once on your hands, you walk to the kitchen to put them in water. Price looks at you up and down when he sees the dress flow with every movement of your hips. He definitely needs to send a good bottle of wine to Laswell for her help choosing the dress. 

“Ready?” You ask looking at him once you are back and you find him with his eyes still staring at where they were before you entered the kitchen. He quickly looks up at your face and smiles. “And waiting, love. Let's go.” He finally says, lending you his arm which you gladly grab. He turns back to the three massive scary military men in your living room who look like kids who have gotten their desert stolen. “Good night, boys. Be nice, we'll see you tomorrow.” You chuckle blowing them a kiss and getting out first, what you don't see behind your back is the way Price raises his hand with his middle finger out and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuckin' bastard” Soap chuckles once the door closes.

Once on the street, you take a deep breath, savouring finally being out of the house. And Price must take notice because when both of you are sitting in the car (he opened the door for you, of course), he pulls your window down slightly letting the night air hit you. 

“I’m definitely making all of you take me out more often.” You say looking out the window.

“And we will do it gladly, love.” He says resting a hand on your thigh. “You just gotta ask.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You say smiling resting your hand on top of his. 

The street air flows through the open window taking with it the last worries on your mind, it is easy being with him. With the four of them to be honest.

“Are you hungry, love?” He asks, moving his hand from your thigh to the gearstick to switch gears as he gets closer to the restaurant. 

“I'm starving, Captain.” You say smiling when he side eyes after you talk. Chuckling softly at the double meaning of your words. Once the car is parked, he exits the car to open your door, holding his hand out for you. 

The restaurant must be the fanciest you have ever set foot inside of, as soon as you enter a waiter comes to walk the both of you to your table. The other guests are calmly eating at their table, the decorations of the plans and folding screens making it feel like a separate room for each couple. 

Price pulls your chair back to allow you to sit and then push you closer to the table. A waiter comes after a while to take note, and not much later comes back with a bottle of wine. He pours the glasses and Price and you are left alone.

“Can I ask you something, John?” You ask, resting your hand on top of his, caressing it with your fingertips. He quickly nods, and you add: “How… how did the relationship between the four of you work?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It's a bit blurry how it started to be completely honest… As a team we expend so much time together, we must trust each other with our lives, and sometimes these things just… happen?” He ask, just to check if you understand. He continues when you nod. “It was not the four of us at first, Soap and Simon were the closest and as far as I know, the ones who did it first. Then Gaz and I were sent on a mission together for a couple of months and it simply happened. Then Gaz and Soap talked about it, they got drunk and did it too. After that, we realised we were not hurting anybody so… we continued.”

“And now there is me…” You add, looking down at his hand. There is an underlying question, about how exactly do you fit in a relationship that seems to have been built around a web of trust and years of knowing each other. And now you appear, and in 48 hours, you are in the centre of it all. 

“And now there is you.” Price answers, interlacing his fingers with yours. “And we are really happy you are, you know that right?” He asks, and he squeezes your hand when you don't answer him. “Look at me, birdie.”

“I'm sorry.” You mutter looking up at him. “I'm sorry, I know we talked about it, but I can't help it, I'm sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, easy now, love. Don't apologise.” He says, extending his arm easily reaching the other side of the table to cup your face. “What is it, love?”

“It's just… you are like… bigger than the CIA.” You whisper, unsure of how much you can say. “And it's not only like, the name. The four of you are just… so big, and cool, and handsome, and nice, and kind, and strong, and you can fight, and people respect all of you… and me… I'm a fucking loser.” 

“Now, that's where I'm going to stop you. Because I'm not letting you shit talk about my girl, birdie.” He says, bopping your nose with his finger as he does. “You are not a loser. You are breathtaking, you have a job, you have a house, you have a car, you are smart, you are kind and for god's sake, birdie, you have an entire SAS task force begging you to even look at them. Take pride in that, love.”

“But that's not the same, Price. What if… what if my apartment didn't have the hiding spot on top of the closet?” You ask, and you can see his expression change, disliking to even think of the possibilities. “I would have been at their mercy so fucking easy, you remember how easy it was for Soap and Ghost to pick me up and handcuff me to Gaz. They'll raise their voice at me a bit too much and they'll have me at my knees begging for forgiveness because that's the only thing I know how to do. Fucking useless…”

“And if you knew how to fight back?” He asks, looking directly at your eyes. “Would it help you feel better?”

“I don't want to be even a bigger burden, Price.” You sigh, unconsciously pouting slightly.

“That's not what I asked, birdie. Would it help if you knew how to fight back? How to defend yourself?” He asks, and when you nod, he nods back, thinking to himself. “All right, luckily for you, I know just the Captain to teach you a couple of tricks.” He says, making you smile. At that moment, the food arrives at the table and when the waiter walks back, he says; “So eat up, we have things to do tonight, love.

Dinner turns out to be delicious, nothing that you didn't expect. And after enjoying each other company through it, he pays for the food and walks along you back to the car.

You still don't know what's his plan, and he won't tell you any more information than what he has already. It's not until later, when he is already driving that you start to recognise the road and you ask: “Are we going to the base?”

He nods. “I'm gonna train you. Is as good as any time to start doing it, right?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Is it?” You ask, looking at the clothes the both of you are wearing. “Aren't we dressed a little bit too fancy?”

“Well, you never know when you are going to be attacked, it'll add to the realism.” He answers chuckling, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow before shaking your head and smiling as well. 

Once he parks in the base, he opens your door again and the both of you walk hand in hand to the shooting range. He turns on the lights to illuminate the empty room and walks to one of the cupboards on the side. He opens it, taking a gun, some bullets and a pair of glasses for eye protection from the inside. He puts the glasses on you, smiling for himself and hands you the gun.

You pick it up, a bit surprised by the weight and look up at him. “Straight to shooting? I was expecting maybe some sparring for my first class, John.” 

He chuckles nodding before saying: “I know, but it's really weird to find the shooting range empty. So let's take advantage of it, shall we? First lesson, how to reload the gun.”

He explains to you how to do it, stirring something in you as he uses a different from what you are used to. You assume that's how he talks to his soldier when instructing them, and even though a part of you is curious about what he must sound like when he is pissed at them, you follow the instructions earning yourself a “Good girl” that has you smiling and blushing like an idiot.

He steps behind you, separating your feet with his foot and telling you what's the best position. His chest is pressed to your back and his hands are around your hands. He points to a little relief on the end of the barrel and says: “This is the front sight, and this is the rear sight.” He says pointing to a second one on the back. “Align them, and then you'll know where you are aiming. Once you have done that, take the safety back and pull the trigger. Careful with the recoil, I'll help you with this one.”

You follow his instructions, grabbing the gun with steady hands so it doesn't fly away once you press the trigger and when you can see the target through the align sight, you shoot. Price's hands over yours keep the gun in place, and he looks up to the screen on top of you to see where the bullet hit and he whistles looking back at you. “You hit the target, birdie. Quite impressive, love.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You say and chuckle when he looks at you with a face. “What? You don't like it when I call you sir?”

“You have a gun on your hands, birdie. Behave.” He says sternly but still gently. “Shoot again.”

“Yes, Sir.” You say smiling and going back to aiming the gun. Just when you are about to shoot, Price presses his growing boner against your arse, completely distracting you and sending the bullet out or the target.

“Birdie! That was worse.” Price says behind you, with a fake worrying tone.

“What did you expect?” You exclaim, looking back at him offended.

“Now, now. It's part of the training, love. You need to work through the distractions.” He says chuckling.

“Yeah, I'm sure all of the boys went through it.” You reply.

“Gaz did.” He says simply. “And he didn't complain, so back to work.”

You groan, clearly knowing what he planning on doing and getting ready for the teasing he is about to put you through. You close one eye to be able to focus more clearly, and position the gun to shoot and again, just before you pull the trigger, he rubs against you making you miss the target. He laughs softly behind you and you groan pulling your head back “John!” you whine

“What is it, love?” He asks nonchalantly. “I am not going to learn like this.” You answer looking back at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says peppering your exposed shoulder with kisses. “You are right, I’m sorry, birdie, you just make me lose my mind so easily. Get back at it, I’ll try my best to not eat you up for now.”

You shake your head at his dramatism and raise the gun again. Once Price is back in Captain's mood it is fairly easy to get the hang of it, after a while letting you hold the gun on your own, the recoil shaking your whole body the first couple of shots. Not that Price shamelessly ogles your whole body when it jiggled because of the shoot. At the end, and actually fairly soon you get more and more clean shots, getting closer and closer to the bullseye earning yourself a pat on the back by Price. “You’re a natural, birdie. I’ll keep you in mind if we get an opening.” He jokes making you laugh.

“Sure, I’m sure I’ll be at you guys level in a week.” You joke back and then look at him. “You can go back now.”

“Sorry?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“You know, back to that… distraction training thing.” You say, struggling to keep the eye contact and when he gets what you are talking about he laughs loudly before going back to hugging you from behind. “Does my sweet girl want a bit more extra training?” He says grinding against your arse, his boner more prominent now than on his last try. You nod breathless, unable to speak. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir”

A groan is everything you hear before he grabs your hips pushing you flush against him. He kisses your neck leaving a wet trail as he goes up to your ear. “Shoot the gun, birdie. Don’t miss.”

You try to focus as hard as you can with his warm mouth against the skin of your neck and his hard dick in between your ass cheeks; when you shoot it goes terribly out of the target and when he realizes a slap lands on your clothed cunt making you shake a whine escaping your mouth. “Again, birdie.”

As you adjust the gun, you feel his hand find its way under your dress beginning to rub your cunt over your underwear. When you are about to shoot, he presses his index finger against your clit making you miss again and another slap land on you, harder with the loss of the dress in the way. “You are getting these underwear ruined, birdie. Such a nasty girl. Try again, and I'll give you something.”

Once again, you raise the gun, closing your eyes for a second when he circles your clit with his fingertips. He gets his hand under your underwear, slipping his finger back and forth from your hole to your clit. You can feel your whole body shake, but somehow your hand remain steady and when you shoot this time you feel his finger enter your cunt forcing you to close your eyes. You leave the gun on the table, not trusting yourself with your eyes closes and whole body shaking again once Price begins to piston his finger in and out of your cunt making you moan his name. 

His other arm finds his way around your neck, pushing you up and keeping you in a headlock only able to moan his name and take his finger in your cunt. “Look at the screen, birdie.” He whispers in your ear, and when you look up you notice the bullet hit straight into the bullseye, a weak smile appearing on your face. 

“Such a good fucking girl, birdie. Shooting so good so soon.” He whispers against your skin as he enters a second finger into you making you whine at the stretch. “Now I need to give you something, right?” He asks and you quickly nod moaning. “How about I give you a good fuck, birdie? Hm? Almost my whole team has already got a taste of fucking your sweet little cunt, and here I am, waiting for you to let me get inside, love. You want that, birdie? Are you gonna let the Captain fuck you stupid, hm?”

You eagerly nod earning a chuckle from him, but his fingers don't stop fucking your cunt the ball of his hand hitting your clit with every thrust sending a shock up your spine. You can only whine and moan at his mercy as you feel your orgasm approach, for a second you fear he might leave you wanting but you quickly realize that he much rather have you crying from overstimulation. You come with a loud moan of his name as you whip your head back on his shoulder unable to stay still as he keeps going not slowing down making your juices lazily drip down his hand.

“Ask for it, birdie. Please, I want to hear you ask for it.” He says, moving the arm from your neck letting you hold yourself up holding onto the table, slowing his fingers but still slowly fucking you.

“Please… Fuck me, please, John.” You half moan, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Price groans letting his forehead rest on your back, laughing to himself. “Birdie, you are going to kill me one of these days.” He says before dropping a kiss to where your exposed back begins and dragging his tongue up to your nape making you whine and arc your back onto him. 

You hear the unmistakable sound of his belt getting undone, and you feel his fingers slip from your cunt only to appear right on your lips. “Taste yourself, birdie. Taste how fucking delicious you are.” You take his finger on your mouth, making him groan as you hear him fist himself; his tip grazing your wet cunt once he moves your underwear to the side. He pushes his finger down on your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth and a loud moan leaves your mouth as his dick enters your pussy stretching you out. 

And then, a series of praises and compliments begin to fall from Price’s mouth as he fucks you that takes your mind to a blissful state where the only thing you can do is moan and take in the love Price is pouring onto you. “My sweet fucking girl… taking my dick so fucking good, the best fucking pussy I have ever had, love. You just fucking ruined me for everyone else, gonna keep you with me forever, hm? You’ll like that, birdie? Keeping you with me forever, and with the boys. Oh, birdie, if you have heard them… fuck… fucking obsessed with you, birdie. Stay with us, birdie. We’ll be good, I promised. We’ll take care of you, of everything you want, everything you need.”

To hear the respectable Captain Price practically whine in your ear, begging you to stay with him has you weak on your knees and you fear you may collapse when the hand on your hips disappear for a moment. It quickly comes back, and the hand inside your mouth goes out grabbing your jaw instead and forcing you to look at the screen, and the sight makes your eyes widen. 

On the screen is the clear image of you getting your gut rearranged by the 141 Captain, being livestream by the security camera of the shooting range. Price goes back to whispering filth in your ear when he feels you clench. “Look how good you fucking look, birdie. Going to fucking steal the footage, watch it every night. How about we let the boys see it, hm? How good you take my cock on this tight fucking pussy, hm? Like a fucking champ.”

You whine clenching again earning a groan from him, unable to peel your eyes away both by his hand and by the hypnotic image on the screen. The mental image of Price or any of the boys pleasuring themselves with the ongoing images has you getting closer and closer to the edge, and Price must be able to tell because he gets a hand down to your clit rubbing quick circles in it making you cum with a loud moan as you clench on him like a vice. He groans behind you, your hands find their way back to the edge of the table when he takes back the hand from your jaw, just to slap your ass making you whine and grabs your hips fucking you hard, the sound of his hips hitting the meat of your ass filling the room. You wouldn't be surprised if you woke up to bruises on your body, Price chasing his own release like a madman moaning your name when he finally reaches it releasing his hot cum inside of you. 

Still buried inside of you, he hugs you from behind his forehead resting on your shoulder, groaning when he feels you clench around him from the aftershock of your orgasm. He raises, grabbing your leg in the process and raising it, leaving you spread-legged directly to the camera. “Show the boys, doll. Did I fuck you nice, birdie?” He asks, and when you nod without talking he gives you a quick thrust with his softening dick making you moan of overstimulation. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir.” You moan softly, and whine when Price bends down biting the joint of your shoulder and neck hard, possessiveness taking over him and urging him to leave a mark on you as if his cum leaking from your cunt around his dick wasn't enough. “Good fucking girl, birdie. So fucking good.” He says licking the mark of his teeth he just left. He leaves your leg down, dropping kisses around your shoulder before asking: “Can you hold still for a minute, birdie? I’m gonna be back in just a minute, I promise.” You nod, leaning more of your weight onto the table making him chuckle and you hear him walk away. 

Being true to his word, he comes back just a minute later, a pen drive in his hand and two hours' worth of footage deleted from the security system. He lifts you bridal style and he starts to walk to his room, turning the lights off on his way out. 

Once inside his room, he takes your clothes off as well as his own and gets in the shower with him. A warm innocent shower, just him washing the sweat and saliva of your body. Once the both of you are cleaned, he covers you with a towel sitting you on the toilet and uses a wet towel to clean the make-up off your face. The both of you brush your teeth in comfortable silence and then he dries you up. Neither of you bothers to put on any clothes before getting under the cover, the heat of each other body keeping you warm.

Price cups your face, finally kissing you for the first time in the whole night, sealing the deal of all the promises and feelings he professed for you. He lets you readjust your position against him before hugging you and whispers before falling asleep. “Sleep nice, birdie.”

Hii 💗

Hope you liked the first date with the boys, Price won the poll like, with a huge difference 🤣 so I hope I met the expectations.

I already have most of the other dates planned, but let me know if you would like for something to happen hehe.

Thank you so much for the support, make sure to leave a comment if you liked it so I can see, really I love to read the comments so don't be worried about writing.

If you want to be added to the permanent link it is on my masterlist, and I love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

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[latenightdaydreams]

Thinking about them stealing Königs shirt from the bases laundry room. Sneaking it back to their room and sleeping in it ♡

If he catches them would he be embarrassed? Mad? Horny as hell? Punish them?

I think ALL of the above🤭

Little Thief (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, theft, domination, p in v, unprotected

1.0k word count

👕

.

.

For the last two months, König has noticed that he’s been missing shirts from his laundry. He is a very meticulous man; he remembers exactly how many shirts he has. What the fuck? He whispers as he folds his laundry and realizes he has only eight shirts and not nine.

Little does he know, there is a little shirt thief. You. In your defense, you’ve only taken three shirts. Since you joined KorTac two months ago, you’ve become somewhat infatuated with König. His eyes are like a clear spring sky. Tall and strong, like an Olympian. As rough as he appears to be, he’s always kind. It’s hard to not fall for him.

It all happened one day when you were on your period and very horny. König had his dirty laundry in a basket, but was called away for a quick minute. You took the opportunity to steal a shirt. Taking a deep breath in, a powerful wave of König’s musk took over your senses.

Tonight was like any night. You did your beauty routine before bed and slipped into one of König’s shirts. Lights off in the room, you pull back your covers to get into bed. Exhausted after a long day, your eyes close quickly once your head hits the pillow.

Only a few moments later, you're woken up from your deep sleep by a banging on your door. You jump out of bed and rush to the door. Seeing Colonel König, you stand up straight.

“Yes, sir?”

“Y/n, have you seen—” his voice cuts off as he looks up from the tablet in his hands. You’re wearing his shirt.

He pushes you back, but not hard, and closes your door behind him. His eyes travel up and down your body, his shirt fitting you like a night down.

“That’s my shirt.” König points at you.

You can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you just gaze at him, totally speechless. “I…I.” It's hopeless. You’ve been caught.

“WHY ARE YOU TAKING MY STUFF?!” His Austrian accent makes his yelling seem harsher. He’s pissed. Why is this random recruit just stealing from him? Is she crazy?

“I’m sorry. I just like…you.” Your stomach drops, waiting for König to yell again and reject you.

“Give me back my shirts.” He says in a softer tone, feeling a blush form under his mask. Women like you don’t like men like him. He felt as if you were teasing him.

You quickly turn to go to your dresser and pull out two of his shirts. You hand them to him, trying to hide the embarrassment written all over your face.

“And that one.” He points to the one that you’re wearing currently.

Without a second thought, you obey. Grasping the hem of the shirt, you pull it off in one fluid motion. König’s jaw drops as he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra and only a tiny pink pair of panties. His eyes shamelessly trail up and down your body.

“You…” Now König is the one lost for words. He’s only ever seen you in your gear or in baggy clothing, he has no idea you were shaped so…perfectly. A beautiful face and the body of a goddess. His mind cycles through different options on how he can handle this situation.

A few seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity until König snaps out of it. He drops the shirts in his hands and moves forward to you. His gloved hands grasp the sides of your face and kisses you passionately, mask in the way. To your surprise he just pulls it off and tosses it to the side. His lips passionately coming back down to kiss you again.

His hands grab your thighs and lift your body effortlessly, rushing you both towards your bed. He lays your body near the edge of your bed before pulling away. You gaze up at him and take in his messy blonde hair, angular face, and a deep gash on his chin.

König pulls his gloves off and tosses them with his mask. He leans back in to continue to kiss you, hands caressing your delicate flesh. A low groan escapes his lips as his hands cup both of your breasts, his mouth leaves your lips and trails down your neck. His lips attach to your neck and suck, marking you with a hickey.

“You want to be mine?” He whispers as one of his hands trails down to the smooth fabric of your panties.

“Yes, I want to be yours.” You beg him.

“Fuck you’re so wet already.” His fingers feel the wet patch forming.

Leaning back, he fumbles with his belt buckle, trying his quickest to undress. His pants fall to his knees. Next, he turns to your panties, grabbing them near your hips and pulling down. His movements are frantic, as if he can’t control the lust that has taken over his body. He holds your panties to his face and takes a deep inhale.

“These are mine. You take my shirts; I take your underwear.” He teases before tossing them aside and grabbing your hips.

Once he sees your wet pussy he freezes, slapping his heavy cock on it. “Are you ready for me?”

“I have condoms—”

“Nein, you want to be mine?”

“Yes.” You look into his eyes as you speak.

“Then you’ll let me fill you with my cum.”

“Okay.” You don’t argue, you just want him.

He grabs one of your legs and holds it out to the side, his other lining his cock up with your pussy. “Beg.”

“Please give me your- oh fuck…” Your begging is interrupted by the feeling of his enormous cock stretching your tiny little cunny. A loud moan is followed as he looks down between your legs to see his fat cock being hugged by your lips.

“Fuck you’ve got a tight pussy.” He growls before rolling his hips and slamming into your roughly. “You think you can just take my things and get away with it?” His free hand reaches out and slaps your breast before grasping it tightly in his palm.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“You’re mine now, Schatzi.”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours.” Your eyes flutter as you drop your head back.

That’s all you’ve ever wanted, to be König’s. Now he’s here gapping your cunt with his monster cock and claiming you. This must be a dream.

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fianc��’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[skywalkerslvt]

Work call—Anakin Skywalker

❥Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader

❥Summary: Anakin is feeling neglected and horny because reader has been busy, so he dry humps her shoe while she’s on a work call.

❥CW: 18+, smut, dry humping, voyeurism (?), sub!ani, orgasm denial sorta, pet names

❥a/n: Very short first post! I'm not a professional writer at all so I'm very nervous but excited to share this! NOT PROOFREAD so keep that in mind while reading. Hope you like it!! <3

Anakin shut the door to your shared room with a sigh, the weight of a long week bearing down on him like the oppressive heat of a Tatooine sun. It seemed like every mission, every training session, had conspired to test his limits.

To top it all off, Anakin was feeling desperate and pent up, aching for your touch. You had been so wrapped up in your work lately that you barely had any time for him. It had been at least a week and a half since you touched him, and his hand could never make him cum like you could.

The sound of your voice coming from the living room shook him out of his lust-fueled thoughts. Curious, he made his way toward the room, where he saw you on the couch, holopad in hand, on an important work call with your boss.

“...Yes, I'll ensure that our intelligence is up-to-date and accurate for the upcoming mission,” Anakin caught bits and pieces of your conversation as he walked to your shared bedroom, leaving the door ajar as he changed into his sweatpants.

He made his way back over to you, leaning over the back of the couch to nuzzle into your neck. As you let out a content sigh at his affection, an idea sparked in his mind.

He made his way around the couch, dropping to his knees in front of you. Your eyes met his, an apprehensive look on your face. Anakin just smiled sweetly, trailing his hands lightly up your legs while his quickly hardening cock twitched in his pants.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you whispered at him, gently brushing him away, though the warmth in your eyes betrayed your true desire to touch him.

As Anakin opened his mouth with a retort, the flickering blue light of the holopad interrupted.

“Did you say something?” your boss inquired, his holographic image displaying a concerned expression, the lines of his face sharp and defined against the backdrop of the digital interface.

Startled by his inquiry, your fingers slipped on the smooth surface of your holopad, causing you to jump slightly. "Oh! Um, everything's fine, sir," you replied, your voice a touch higher than usual as you tried to regain your composure. "Just... just reviewing some holographic data here, you know how it is, sir. All under control." You flashed a nervous smile, hoping your flustered demeanor would pass as mere enthusiasm.

Anakin started to run his hands up your thighs again when he felt you shift. He let out a surprised gasp at the sudden pressure he felt on his cock, rutting his hips forward slightly. You had your leg stuck between his thighs, foot angled up so the toe of your shoe was on his cock. Anakin looked up at you, but you were seemingly uninterested in him, focusing only on your work.

Anakin shifted his hips experimentally, grinding his pathetically hard cock against your shoe. When he noticed your lips twitch upwards slightly, clearly enjoying the view of Anakin humping your shoe like a dog in heat, he continued his ministrations.

As his hips began to move faster, a small wet patch formed on the front of his pants, his sticky precum making his cock slide against your foot easier. You began to move your foot, matching the fast thrusting of his hips to get him off faster, causing Anakin to let out a high-pitched moan.

“What was that?” questioned your boss, concern evident in his voice. Your eyes shot back to the hologram, and your movements stuttered.

“I-I’m sorry. My puppy was misbehaving,” you said in a rush, pushing your foot painfully against Anakin’s cock as a warning. Anakin let out a strangled whimper but pushed his hips into your foot.

“Your puppy? When did you get a dog?” your boss inquired.

“A few months ago. He’s been a bit needy lately,” you said smugly, beginning to rub against him again.

As your boss continued talking, you and Anakin exchanged a quick glance, hearts racing with the thrill of almost being caught. With a forced smile, you continued your conversation, doing your best to maintain your composure as Anakin continued working himself on your foot.

Anakin thrust upwards, meeting the movements of your foot. The grip he had on your leg became tighter as he worked himself towards his orgasm. His breath came in short gasps, his chest heaving with each thrust. His body tensed against your leg, and you felt him spill into his pants, his cock twitching against your foot through his pants. You moved your foot away from his overstimulated cock as he panted against your leg.

:readmore:

“Oh no…I’m afraid I’ll have to leave this meeting a bit early. My dog made a mess. Looks like he’s gonna need some better training,” you cut off your boss, quickly exchanging your goodbyes and turning off your holopad.

Anakin, still panting, moved to get up, but a firm hand pushed him back to his knees.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, puppy.”

[im-subtextsexual]

I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense. 

First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.

*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*

In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay. 

*Imagine*

Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that’s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.

Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).

Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).

After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.

Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.

The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.

Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.

[l1tw1ck]

Dysfunction or Wrong Direction?

bottom!Steve Rogers x top!male reader

☆ Word Count: 1,032 ☆

CW: Dub-Con (Drunk Sex), Virginity Loss, Anal Fingering, Cum Swallowing, Dom/Sub, Anal, Size Kink, Creampie, Corruption

Steve orders another drink and sighs. He's been struggling lately, specifically with sex. No matter what he tries or who he meets, he just can't get it up. Ever since he started working out, he started to get attention from women. Unfortunately for him, he's never been able to actually have sex because they never get him hard.

You sit down next to him and notice his defeated demeanor. “You alright?” You ask.

He turns to you and shakes his head, too drunk to keep everything to himself. “I can't…I can't get it up…but my doctor…my doctor says nothing's wrong.”

“Aw, really? Maybe you should try something new.” You smirk. “Something like…anal?”

“I don't think there's a lot of women who want to do that..”

“I mean you. You should try getting fucked.” You laugh softly. “I’m willing to be your first.” You wink.

His eyes widen, cheeks red. “Oh.”

“What do you think, pretty boy?” You tilt your head. “I promise I’ll show you a good time.”

He’s so drunk that he's willing to give it a try.

Steve looks at you with an adorable expression as your fingers work open his hole. He didn't know it would feel so good, and you're only fingering him. He never thought he'd say this but he can't wait to feel your cock inside him.

“Do you feel okay?” You ask. You already know the answer, thanks to his rock hard cock and his soft moans, but you want to hear it straight from him.

He nods. “‘S good- ‘s good, [Name].” He bites his lip.

“It’s sir.”

He blushes. “Sorry sir.”

“Good boy.” You curl your fingers up and reach his prostate. He gasps, a spurt of cum leaving his cock. “Found it.” You grin.

“Again- please-”

You continuously poke at his prostate, effectively driving Steve crazy.

“Yes- oh fuck-” He throws his head back. “Don't stop–” His moans increasingly grow louder as he reaches his peak.

“You wanna come, Steve? Beg for it.”

He feels so good that he’ll do anything to come. “Please- fuck– please let me- hh- come, sir– please~”

“Go ahead.” As soon as you give him the okay, he comes all over his chest. You slowly pull out of him. He takes deep breaths as he recovers from his orgasm.

“That- that felt so good.” He sighs. “You're…you're gonna fuck me now, right?” He looks at you, the look on his face is unintentionally seductive.

You chuckle. “Mhm.” You drag your tongue along his chest, scooping up his cum and cleaning him up. You pull away and look at him with a smile while unbuckling your belt. He looks at your expression, clear enthusiasm painted on your face. You're beyond excited to take his virginity. His eyes trail down to your crotch. He watches in anticipation as you pull down your pants. He stares intensely at your underwear, aroused by how hard you are. He wasn't sure if he just likes anal or if he likes men too but just looking at your boner is setting him on fire. He wonders if you’ll let him suck you off. He's almost surprised by that thought but considering what he's just done, what he's said, it's not all that surprising in comparison.

His eyes widen as you release your hard cock. He gasps. “You're huge.” He almost whispers. You're even bigger than he is.

“Are you scared?” You slowly pump your cock. “I could settle for a blowjob.” You could, hypothetically, but you'd much rather fuck him.

He shakes his head. “I can take it..” His voice is very breathy. He can't take his eyes off your length. You've awakened a lot in him tonight.

“Yeah? I think so too.” You lick your lips. “Hold your legs in the air.”

He does exactly as you asked, arms wrapped around his legs. “Like this?”

You nod. “You're good at following orders.” You prod your tip against his hole. “I like how obedient you are. So willing to do whatever I ask.”

He blushes but before he can respond, you start easing your way inside him. “Fu- fuck–” He lets out a sharp breath. “Don't stop- ah–” His uncomfortable expression twists into a pleasured one, his lips moving into a shaky smile. You're stretching him out so much and it feels so damn good. He shivers as your length brushes against his prostate.

You eventually bottom out and stay still, allowing him to get used to the feeling. “You feel amazing, baby…so damn tight.”

He looks up at you. “You're not moving?”

“I’m giving you time to adjust.”

“I don't need time…I need you to fuck me.”

You smirk. “Okay.” You grip his waist and start fucking him roughly, not bothering to start slow.

“So good- fuck- harder!” He moans. “Please, sir~!”

“I’m glad you remember your manners.” You fuck him harder.

“Yes- th- thank you, thank you, sir~” His body shakes. “‘M gonna come- please- uh~ please lemme come, sir-”

“Coming without me even touching you? Maybe your body was made to only take cock instead of giving it.” You chuckle. “You’ve got such a big cock but it's useless. All your body wants is to be fucked.”

Steve moans. “Yes~!”

“You think so too? That you're just a cocksleeve?”

He nods rapidly. “I’m your- your cocksleeve, sir~”

“Yeah? Come for me then.”

Steve’s body shakes as he comes for the second time, coming even harder than last time. He's shocked as you keep going but he's certainly not opposed to it.

“I’m gonna come inside you, okay, baby?”

He nods. “Wha- whatever you want~”

“Good boy.” You lean in and kiss him. Steve sloppily reciprocates it, kissing you back with less experience. His thoughts start to go fuzzy. The overstimulation combined with his drunkenness isn't helping him stay sane. You pull away and lean into his neck, softly kissing it before sinking your teeth into his skin. He rolls his eyes back as you flood his insides with your cum.

“It's warm..” Steve moans.

“You like how it feels?” You smile, slowly pulling out of him. He sighs, already missing the feeling of you inside him. “Let's get cleaned up, okay?”

[zvdvdlvr]

spencer reid has a soulmate :)

Head up, nose clean. You repeated the phrase as you stepped out of the elevator, excited for your new internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.

You were 23, intellectually gifted, and quiet as all get-out. Because of how used to being alone you were, you assumed that the scientific community’s ‘groundbreaking proof’ of soulmates was completely absurd.

Almost everyone found their soulmate at 20-21, going and and clubbing or just going shopping. You knew that part of the reason you didn’t know your soulmate (or even knew if you had one) was because you didn’t look at people. You watched their movements and body language, you just didn’t look strangers in the eye.

That’s how you knew that there were a group of people watching you as you walked up the stairs to your employer’s office.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked, knocking gently on the door.

The tall, dark-haired man stood up. “Sit, please.” You sat in the chair he gestured too after shaking his hand. “Yet again, I have to remind you that the things we see daily are not for weak stomached people. Our presence has been requested in Wisconsin, and we’re set to have a meeting in,” Hotch looked at his watch. “Twenty seconds. I understand that this is your first day, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are more than capable of fieldwork. Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good. You have your concealed carry license?”

You stood up and nodded. “When I was 21.”

“Good. Let’s get you introduced to the rest of the team.”

You remembered Rossi from when he personally requested to meet you one-on-one. He had wanted to have a… pleasant conversation with you. You understood why he wanted to check your morals.

Emily Prentiss smiled brightly at you even though she was clearly taken aback at your presence. Derek Morgan shook your hand and gave you a smile. Penelope Garcia was a ball of energy who pulled you into a tight hug, fussing over you like an older sister. She had a gorgeous smile. Jennifer Jareau was as polite as ever, shaking your hand and greeting you politely but something in her gaze you figured she might be happy to have a fresh face with new ideas.

“Where’s Reid?” Derek asked, looking around the table.

Jennifer shrugged. “Late. We’ll fill him in on the plane. Anyway…” the gorgeous immediately started to inform of you the kidnapping and killings of five men. They were all shot and killed in their homes with no signs of forced entry.

About two minutes in the discussion, the door swung open. You assumed the man was ‘Reid’. He shrugged of his bag and didn’t look up at until Jennifer kept going.

“Any sign of robbery? Anything missing?” Derek asked right after J.J. finished. You opened your own file, seeing the pictures closer. You couldn’t see the color of blood, but you could tell that the crime scene was clean. The only blood stemmed from the bullet to the head.

“No. The families of the victims said that nothing looked out of place or missing.”

Emily furrowed her eyebrows. “There was no other physical harm besides the cause of death? That’s bizarre.”

J.J. nodded.

“Could be a woman. Women are known for their aversion to ‘trophies’ or items they take from their victims. Maybe a prostitute… not many men would open their doors to women unless, for, you know,” you explained.

Silence fell over the room and you looked down. Clearly you had said something. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

“No, no, you’re right,” the late areival says, thumbing through his file. “There are no signs of rage or remorse and women are known for their emotional detachment or rage killings. All victims have a history of violence and sexual assult. This ccould very well be a woman trying to exact revenge. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner,” Reid rambles, nodding as he pieces the puzzles together. “Sorry, what did you say your name wa…” he trails off, looking you in the eye.

Your mouth falls open as the world seems to erupt in the different black and grey hues of fire. Except this time you actually see the color. Your eyes are locked on Reid’s, disbelief painted all over your face.

“Y/n,” you whisper, eyes flickering to his rich brown hair, light pink lips, saucer-wide eyes, and heaving chest.

“Hello, soulmate. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”