#hey boss can give me a hand over here?

[dcxdpdabbles]

Tim: Can I help you? Four-year-old Danny: No, I'm fine, thank you for asking. Tim: I doubt that bud. Why are you here? Danny:What's it to you? Tim: It's MY office???? Danny: It is? You're Timothy Drake-Wayne? Tim: Yes Danny: Great. My mom told me to give you this. *hands over a sealed file envelope* Tim: .....This says you're my son. Danny: Yeah Tim: I'm nineteen, that means you were born when I was fifteen Danny: Yeah Tim clicking phone intercom: Tam, can you please call my lawyers, a team of DNA analysts, and oh, an ambulance for me? Tam: Why boss? Tim: I'm going to faint. Hey can you also get Bruce in here to babysit his grandson? Thanks, you're the best. *THUMP* Danny: I like you, unconscious father.

[sugume]

HOLE IN THE WALL — JUJUTSU KAISEN

( TW ) f!reader. sex work. unprotected sex. praise. dedegration. unprotected sex. creampies. spanking. (Not a gangbang btw, just back to back sex!)

FEATURING. Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento.

authors note. I thought it would be fun to leave the identities a mystery,,,can you guess the order of who is who 🤭 ? I fear this is unedited bc I’m still suffering in bed and hate rereading 😔

. . . 9:30 PM 

You lay comfortably on the bench underneath you. Well as comfortably as you could. Your boss refused to buy new benches, instead leaving you and your coworkers with these .5-inch foam benches. You’ve gotten used to it, so it doesn’t bother you much these days.  

“Gettin’ your first customer y/n! It’s businessman!” The new girl yelled through the door your lower body was in. You don’t bother yelling back. She’d be long gone by now. You scoot your ass further into the private room. You know ‘businessman’ likes watching your ass recoil against his hips. You perk up when you hear the door open and shut.  

“Hey sweetheart,” Businessman says is a tired raspy voice. “Hi!” You say back, he’s been here so much that you know he fucks better when he’s able humanize the ass hanging out the wall for him. 

You feel his rough hands fondle with your ass. You shake a little, earning a small laugh and pinch. “So perfect.” He groans and within a few seconds you feel the rubber covered tip of his cock head at the entrance. He pushes in slowly, and your grateful your last I lent used a bit too much lube, leaving you wet enough to take businessman’s cock without much struggle.  

“Fuck yes, waited all day for this pussy.” He grunts, hands gripping your hips. He pushes in and out at a slow pace, he likes savoring the feeling of your tight pussy. You moan softly at the feeling of his cock sliding against your walls at the gentle pace but that gentle pace soon turns into the rough fucking you’re used to. The type of fucking only a stressed man who wastes his money and sex shop could give you. You moan louder, his cock hitting all your soft spots.

“Want you to come with me alright?” He brings his hands around to your clit. He rubs harsh circles into your clit and after being used and denied orgasm for so long you're coming in his big cock as he fills the condom. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so good to me, so good.” He rambles and you respond with small thanks You's

. . . 9:45 PM 

Several minutes after businessman gently shut to door you hear the door open. Men back-to-back which you’d usually be pissed at but after that orgasm your relaxed enough and it’s not like you have a choice.  

“Ha! So, this is where he goes after work?” A man says in a deep voice, albeit childish tone. “And I thought he was innocent! Hello? Is this real?” The man pushes a finger into your ass as if he was expecting to feel silicone. There goes your good mood.  

“Hi, yes I’m real and that kinda hurt!” You say loud enough to pass the drywall that covers your upper body. The man laughs and you can feel his breath on your ass, it feels like he’s close enough to look through the curtain your ass hangs out. “Uhm—you aren’t allowed to look through that sir!” You stutter, ready to yell for the faux security to come get a rowdy man out. 

“Sorry! Just wanted a sneak peek!” He laughs, standing back up and silently admiring the view of your shiny ass. He brings his long hands down and starts rubbing all over your ass. You roll your eyes; his dick better be decent. 

“Does the man that came in before me come here a lot?”  

“I can’t tell you that.” 

“Pretty please?” 

“Do I have to call security?” You grumble.  

“Sorry pretty, can a man not talk anymore? Where the lube—oh there we go, now let me—” The man does something you can’t see before suddenly shoving his too-long dick into you. You scream into the bench. 

“Oh fuck, so fucking tight.” He grits out as your pussy clenches hard around him. “Should’ve paid extra for no protection.” He whispers to himself before pulling out of you. He pushes back in before his mushroom head could leave your warm pussy.  

You moan louder than you have all day as he continues to fuck you with his long cock. He’s fucking you so good, tip hitting your cervix that you feel your pussy start to pulse around him. You’re about to cum again. 

“Fuck, pretty, come on my cock.” He slams into you, hand going down to claw your hips. You open your mouth in a silent scream as you come on the cocky man’s cock.  

. . . 10:37 PM 

You settle back onto the bench, bladder empty and stomach full of the lunch box you packed for yourself. To wake yourself up, you had to splash your face with water a few times. The back-to-back orgasms those men had given you were enough to lose all the energy you had before coming to work. As you settled back in you mentally prepared yourself for the full night you had ahead of yourself. Back-to-back orgasms were unheard of here, you were lucky, and doubted it would ever happen again. The door slams shut, for cling you to stop thinking about those men. You lie on the bench and look at the concrete wall to the side.  

“Missed me girl?” The older man grunted, and your heart skipped a beat. It was him. Your favorite client. He hadn’t been here in so long you thought he might’ve been killed or sent to jail. You knew he wasn’t the sanest man out there.  

“S-sir?” You hesitantly ask, calling your favorite client by the nickname he loved.

“Mhm.” He answers, heavy hands coming to rub and fondle your pussy. You feel your face heat. “This pussy miss me? Miss actually having orgasms in this hell hold?”  

You answer him with a lie, he didn’t have to know you were still coming down from two orgasms with cocks that could rival his.  

“Knew you did girl, but I', back. Gonna give this sweet pussy the orgasm it’s been craving.” The man pulls out his cock, thankful he was able to scrap enough change to pay for unprotected sex with you. He just had to not come inside, or else he was banned from every location in the city. He runs the tips all over your ass and pussy, before shoving his cock into you. You dig your nails into the sides of the bench as his fat cock stretches you. Not even the other cocks before were this girthy.  

“F-fuck sir!” You scream when he slaps your ass. You clench around his cock, not wanting him to pull out.  

“All these damn cocks and this pussy is still this tight, fuckin’ A.” He grunts, slapping your ass as he thrust in and out of you. The sheer force of him has you coming so hard that your vision goes black for a second before returning when he hits a particular spot.  

“That was fuckin’ fast girl. Gonna make me come.” He grunts and brings his hand down fast and hard. The sound of his smack echoes in the empty room. “Wish I could come in this pussy.” He grumbles before pulling out. He first his fat cock before getting an idea. He brings the tip to your entrance, not pushing it in, and empties his load. You gasp and the feeling of his come spurting all over your pussy. You should be screaming right now, if any of his come had gotten into you, you could be pregnant. But inside your pussy thrums at the thought of this older mystery man leaving you with nothing but his child. You wish you weren’t on birth control. 

. . . 11:01 PM 

The man didn’t bother cleaning his come off you. Instead, he said he was leaving it as a parting gift because he didn’t know the next time he would see you. You were too fucked out to clean yourself off, so you left his cum just as he left it. Smeared and dripping off your pussy.  

When the next man came in you didn’t even care that he was about you fuck another man's come into you, you found it hot. He didn’t though. 

“Can’t believe my best friend sent me here to look at a used pussy.” He spit out and you tensed. 

“Huh—” 

“You heard me, matter of fact I was just told that you weren’t allowed creampies? Going against company rules now? Fuckin’ slutty bitch.” He snarls and brings a hand down to pinch at your swollen clit that peaked out your lips. You whine. 

“Think I might go out and tell, I don’t wanna use some stretched cunt.” His twists and pulls at your clit. 

“W-wait please don’t do that, please.” You cry, you were going to get in trouble with your boss if this mean man said those lies. Your boss always believed the words of so random men and he would take some of your check out. “I’ll do anything, please, don’t.”  

“Nah m’gonna tell. After I’m done with this pussy though. Already paid for you, might as well get a feel,” he tells you, as he unzips his pants. “Now be quiet, holes don’t talk.” The man degrades you as he shoves his cock into you. You cry at the burn. The only thing helping is the other leftover cum he shoved in you. 

“Fuck he was right; this pussy is too tight.” He grunts hands bruising your hips with how tight he’s gripping. You cry into the bench as he fu is you like he hates you. “Isn’t that crazy? This pussy gets used all damn day and yet it’s still this tight. What all the cocks you take too small or something’?” He slaps your ass. 

“Oh fuck, m’gonna come in the sweet pussy. Gonna give you that creampie you aren’t allowed. Gonna fuck my come so deep into this pussy it’ll be dripping out of you for days.” His grip on your hips tightens, and you scream into the bench as he comes deep inside you. “Fuckin’ hell that was good, might have to come back tomorrow. Say, you let me come inside you tomorrow too I won’t tell your boss?” 

[bruisedboys]

love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

nav

implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

[bro-atz]

défilé de lingerie

in which: you're modeling the latest lingerie designs for your two bosses, and let's just say their designs are very effective.

pair: lingerie designer!san/lingerie model!afab!reader/lingerie tailor!mingi

word count: 3.1k

content: reader is a lingerie model but also sex doll, reader in heels is shorter than mingi, mingi's a horndog and san is more professional, nicknames (mon amour), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL), double penetration, cunnilingus, oral, anal, creampies, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: loml @k-hotchoisan and i decided to exchange biases for a fic, so this is my fic for our exchange— enjoy (nd read aub's fic here!)

"Alright, you know the drill, Y/N," one of your bosses, Mingi, stated as soon as you stepped foot in the room.

"Yeah, it's like we don't do this every month or something," you responded with heavy sarcasm and the most obnoxious eye roll.

"Don't give me that sass. Just do it."

You bowed your head before heading behind the partition in the room.

That was one of the stipulations of being the personal model for a world renowned lingerie atelier— anytime the designer and stylist had new looks they wanted to test out, they would test them out on you. They loved the way the bra and panties would fit you just right, and there was also something about the way that you modeled the looks for them that made them obsessed with you.

"Wear the black one first," the other boss of yours, San, instructed.

"You mean the one with the garter belt?"

"Yes, and wear the stockings with them!" Mingi quickly added.

You sighed deeply before putting the stockings on first. The black set was an insanely intricate lace thong with pearls near the crotch— Hold on, these were crotchless panties?!

"Uh, since when did you guys start doing pieces like this?" you asked the two men nervously.

"We've always done this, Y/N. Hurry and put it on," San responded impatiently.

You swallowed the pool of saliva building in your mouth before slipping the panties on, the cool pearls rubbing against your exposed clit sending shivers down your spine. After adjusting the panties on your hips properly, you grabbed the matching lace corset and put it on, only to realize that there was no way you were going to be able to hook every eye closure.

"Hey, Mr. Song," you were still expected to treat your bosses with respect even after all you had done for them over the years. "Could you help me with the corset?"

"See, San, I told you the corset wasn't going to work well," Mingi said matter-of-factly.

"Shut up, this is why we test the sets before we launch them," San grumbled.

When Mingi came around the partition, he took one look at you and immediately bit his lower lip. He approached you from behind, and instead of helping you with the corset, he bent down and ran his fingers up your leg, his hand resting on the curve of your waist where the waistband of the garter belt sat, his waist pressing against your exposed buttocks, his hard-on rubbing against your leg.

Oh, yeah. That was the other thing. You weren’t just their personal model, but you were also their personal sex doll (but were you complaining?).

"Mmm, look at you in this set," his low voice rumbled in your ear. "I could just eat you up."

"Mr. Song," you whispered as you felt him brush your hair from the nape of your neck and leave a soft kiss. "Can you please help me with the corset first?"

"Why bother when I'm just going to take it off in two seconds?"

You moaned slightly when Mingi tiptoed his fingers along your waist and down your stomach before pressing the pearls against your clit. He unclipped the pearls from the front part of the panties before running two fingers along your folds, collecting the arousal that had started accumulating the second Mingi laid a singular finger on you.

"Mingi, cut it out. We need to see the sets," San's authoritative voice rang out, snapping you out of your lusty trance.

"Damn, he can't let me have you to myself for one second, can he?" Mingi tsked.

He finally helped you with the corset while you struggled to hook the pearls back onto the panties. Mingi, noticing your struggle, knelt before you and took the tiny clasp from your grasp. At first, you thought he was going to actually put the pearls back on, but instead he rubbed his nose against your clit and ran his tongue along your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered while smacking your hand against the wall for balance, the other grabbing the roots of Mingi’s hair.

“Mingi!” San yelled.

“Ugh, fine,” Mingi groaned.

Mingi clipped the pearls back on, and he resumed his professional mode when he stood up to inspect the set, adjusting little things here and there to make you look absolutely perfect. Mingi left first, and before you left, you wore the pair of black platform heels on the ground— they also usually had a pair of designer heels for each lingerie set for you to wear— and checked yourself out in the mirror. You walked towards the two men in their leather armchairs slowly, trying to get used to the height of the heels.

“Turn around for me, Y/N,” San requested.

You did as he asked and turned on the balls of your feet just the way they liked it. You heard the leather scrunching and felt the cool touch of San’s ring on your shoulder moments later. He adjusted the fit of the thong quickly before rubbing his fingers between your legs to check the pearls.

“Okay, the bottom part seems fine,” he murmured.

“Check the corset, San.”

“I know, I was getting to it.”

San pressed the palm of his hand flat against your back, then he started tugging the top of the corset outwards, testing the durability of the hooks.

“I don’t see what the issue is— the corset is fine,” San argued with Mingi.

“She wasn’t able to get it on by herself, and if the point of this collection is supposed to be lingerie she can surprise her lover with, then it kind of defeats the purpose,” Mingi shot back.

“So then should we go with the ribbons like I had in the original design?”

Mingi pressed his lips together then nodded, admitting defeat. San let out a deep sigh and returned to you in the corset. He spun you around to face him, and you lost your balance as he did so, falling right into San’s arms.

“Maybe the heels were a little too tall for you,” San muttered, his hot breath flitting past your ears, making your body surge with warmth. “Are your ankles okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” you cleared your throat and stood properly once more for San to finish his inspection.

San held your shoulders and looked at the entirety of the set, his eyes lingering on the cups for your breasts. Gently, he cupped your breasts and pressed along the fabric before turning to Mingi and saying, “The underwire is too short for her measurements. You should know better by now. Like, look at this— the underwire won’t even support her breasts properly.”

Without looking at Mingi’s reaction, San turned back to you and reached around you to unhook the top portion of the corset, allowing you to breathe a little easier. You sighed softly as he unhooked more, but not the entirety of the corset. Then, San went on his knees and inspected the work of the garter belt and crotchless panties.

“Could we get different straps for this?” San asked as he snapped the strap against your thigh, making you flinch slightly. “I don’t like how thick this is.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, the clasps are ugly. Try again.”

“You approved of those clasps for the last set!” Mingi complained.

“The last set called for silver, but I want black for this one. Fix it.”

Mingi muttered under his breath as he took mental note of all of San’s stipulations. Finally, San arrived at the pearls. He tugged at the clasp and hummed in approval at the strength of the loop.

“The satin loop is strong. Good job.”

“I’m worried about the wear after several washes, though—”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. The only way this would get frayed is if she’s incapable of hooking the clasp on, and the loop is big enough for her to not miss.”

As San explained, he played with the pearls, running his finger up and down the chain. You stifled your moans as you felt him toy with you— you had no idea if it was intentional or not, but whatever it was, it was making your entire body flush with heat.

“You like that?” San whispered low enough so only you could hear— he was doing it intentionally.

“Y-Yes…”

“Mmm, I don’t think I can get through the other sets right now… Let’s take a little break, mon amour.”

That was the signal. Mingi immediately got out of the arm chair and made his way to you, the glint in his eye making you swallow nervously. Even with the heels on, Mingi was still taller than you, so he tilted your head up to meet his lips before moving his hand to your neck. You held Mingi’s shoulder as he kissed you intensely, blood rushing to your ears as you felt his fingers pressing into your neck gently. You wanted to grab his shirt with your other hand, but San, who was still between your legs, was stimulating you a little too much with his fingers that you had to grab the roots of his hair.

You thought San was going to unhook the pearls sooner rather than later, but instead, with the pearls still on, he ran his tongue along them. His tongue circled around the pearl on your clit, the smoothness of the pearl sending a stream of tingles through your body. It certainly did not help when San moved your leg so that it rested over his shoulder, giving him more space to fuck your wet pussy with his tongue. You unconsciously gyrated your hips into his face, your hand pulling him closer to you. It was when Mingi stopped kissing your lips and trailed them down your neck were you able to focus a little more on San.

“Fuck,” you hissed and inhaled sharply. “Right there— Ah! R-Right there…”

The pleasure only increased for you when San ran his fingers from the end of the pearl chain up the fabric of the thong, making the string ride up slightly and rub against your asshole just right. You whimpered and whined the more San toyed with the lower half of your body, unaware that Mingi was working on unhooking the remaining eye closures. The second it was completely unhooked, Mingi threw the corset somewhere behind him and latched onto your breasts. His teeth tugged on your nipples gently, the stimulation really getting to you.

“I don’t think she can stand much longer,” Mingi commented when he felt your grasp on his shoulder start to slip.

“I’m almost there, shh,” San waved the other man away before returning to feasting.

“Mr. Choi, p-please,” you cried. “I’m al-almost— Nngh!”

You gripped Mingi’s shoulder tightly when San slipped a thick finger into your cunt and curled it over and over inside you while fixating on your clit, the pearls continuing to stimulate you like there was no tomorrow. It was when San started rapidly fingering you did your final thread of sanity snap. You muffled your cry as you came, your cunt convulsing around San’s finger, your grip on his hair tight as hell as you shoved his face as far as you could into your pussy.

“You enjoyed that a lot, didn’t you, mon amour?” Mingi teased with his low voice. “I’m sure you must’ve been hot and bothered from earlier…”

He rubbed his nose along your jawline before peppering kisses along your neck and on your ear, the fingers on his other hand rubbing your ear. You sighed softly, sensually as you tilted your head towards Mingi the more he showed you affection.

“Let’s get her to the chairs, shall we?” San interrupted your passionate moment with Mingi when he stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist.

San lifted you and carried you to his armchair. He sat down first then sat you down on his lap, making you straddle him. He reached to your feet and flung the heels off before running his fingers along your legs and up the curve of your hips and waist.

“Mon amour,” San whispered breathlessly. “Would you like a taste of yourself?”

You nodded, and San immediately grabbed the back of your head and kissed you passionately, his tongue diving deep into your mouth. As you made out with him, Mingi approached you from behind and grabbed your ass cheeks, squeezing and pulling upwards tightly. You cried into San’s mouth when you felt Mingi slap your ass and pull up on your thong, the panties and pearls digging into your cunt.

You were still heavily focused on kissing San that after the pleasureful pain from Mingi subsided, you didn’t realize that he was finally removing the pearls from the panties. After setting the pearls down, he pulled the thong to the side and ran his tongue along your ass crack while inhaling deeply. When you felt his hands pull your ass apart and his tongue prod your asshole, you whined and moaned while pushing yourself further into San’s hold.

Mingi pulled your waist out and up, giving him a better angle to eat your ass out. As Mingi focused on loosening you up, you directed your attention to San’s bulging crotch. One hand on his shoulder, you unbuckled his belt with your other hand and pulled his thick cock out. You reached to your cunt and collected some of your arousal before stroking San’s cock, the man’s breath hitching when he felt your nails trace the tip of his cock.

“I want to be inside you, mon amour,” he said, his voice so low he nearly growled.

You heard Mingi complain behind you when you and San shifted, the man lowering himself in the chair while you pressed your upper body against his. You rubbed your cunt against his cock before he adjusted his cock himself and slipped it inside you, a long moan leaving your lips. You gripped the arms of the chair when you felt San place his hands on your ass and begin to move your waist up and down on his cock, letting out little moans and squeals whenever he bottomed out.

Mingi wasn’t about to let the fruits of his labor go to waste. He whipped out his own cock and spat on his hand before stroking it a couple times. He approached you from behind and got San to stop moving you on his lap, allowing him to push the tip of his huge cock into your tight asshole. He teased you over and over again, his cockhead entering and exiting you quickly.

“Mingi, stop teasing her and fuck her already,” San bit out.

“Do you want me to fuck you, mon amour? Do you want me to fuck you silly?” Mingi, ignoring San’s order, asked you gently.

“Please, Mr. Song,” you hiccuped. “I want you to give it to me.”

“You heard her, Mingi. Do it.”

With a deep sigh, Mingi spread your ass again and pushed his cock into your tight hole, a loud cry leaving your lungs when you felt his insane length fill you up. Once Mingi was all the way inside you, both men started moving your waist along their lengths. Mingi continued to smack your ass sporadically as his thrusts got stronger. San, on the other hand, bucked his hips upwards to meet your cunt, the added force driving you insane. The sensation of their cocks rubbing against each other through the layer inside only made the pleasure build.

“Fuck,” you whined as you aimlessly clutched at San’s coat. “Fuck me harder, Mr. Choi… I beg you…”

“Oh? Alright. Come here.”

Mingi pulled out, allowing you to turn around on San’s lap. You sat on his lap, your back facing him. He slipped his cock into your cunt again and tucked his hands under your knees to lift your legs before he started jack hammering his cock into you at a much faster rate. You felt yourself nearing your climax, but you weren’t quite there yet. It wasn’t until Mingi slipped his cock into your cunt as well did white fill your vision, the feeling of the two cocks spreading you wide making your entire body react.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming!” you cried.

“Cum for us, mon amour,” San hissed in your ear. “Cum all over us.”

You rubbed your clit several more times before your orgasm completely washed over you, your cunt clenching as you squirted through their thrusts. You thought they would stop to let you finish completely, but both men refused to pull out. You continued to cum as they stuffed their cocks inside you repeatedly, your loud cries of profanities echoing in the room.

Moments later, neither man could hold back any longer— the feeling of your cunt squeezing around their cocks was a little too much for them to handle. Mingi pulled out and let the older man shove his cock deep inside you to let his load out, strings of hot cum filling up inside you. San let out a huge groan of relief as he pulled out slowly, his cock still twitching inside you and releasing his cum. You knew he was completely done when he buried his face in the nook of your neck and groaned deeply, his heavy breathing starting to quiet down.

The second San’s cock left your pussy, Mingi immediately shoved his massive cock inside you. He held the back of your neck and pulled you towards him, his lips furiously locking with yours as he thrust violently hard into you. You cried and whimpered into the kisses as his cock kept rubbing past your G-spot, and it was when Mingi finally came did you cum again, your legs shaking as stars overtook you. His cum spurt inside you and filled you up, the cum from both men swimming inside you and threatening to spill out.

Mingi let go of your head, allowing you to completely melt in San’s arms, the man lowering your legs the second Mingi was done with you. You clenched your pussy to keep their seed inside you, afraid to make more of a mess.

“You’re always so tight for us, mon amour. Does your body not get used to us?” Mingi asked with a chuckle as he began to clean himself up.

“I don’t think she’ll ever get used to us fucking her into oblivion,” San joked as he nuzzled his nose into your neck. “Right, mon amour?”

You responded with a breathy sigh and a slight nod, making both men smile at how fucked out you looked.

“Now, clean up. You still have several more sets to try on for us.”

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[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.” 

[luveline]

Okay, I would love to see an Aaron Hotchner x anemic bombshell!reader (lmao) who gets randomly faint and Aaron freaks <3

“This is oh so difficult,” you say under your breath, a sing-song tone to your voice. You often talk in juxtapositions, unhappy words in silk, cheerful worrying. “This is… stressful.” 

“You don't look stressed,” Spencer says. 

You elbow at him affectionately. “Do I ever? Sweetheart, there's nothing ever so stressful as to wear it on your face. Now come here, you have a pen smudge on your cheek.” 

Hotch could pinch the back of your shirt to stop you, but Spencer holds out a hand to brace you away from him like a disgruntled younger sibling while you laugh and reach for him. 

“Cut it out,” Gideon says. 

“Yes, boss.” 

Hotch turns away from you both to hide his smile. The case is long (as always), difficult (as always), and getting more and more serious as days pass. There hasn't been much time to pause and take stock, and so your playfulness comes at a great time —you need moments of fun like this to stop the weight of the inevitable dragging you down hard.

Your playfulness is unfailing. “So,” you say, quieter now to avoid Gideon’s attention while you lean into Hotch's personal bubble, “what will you make me for dinner?” 

“The same thing I've made you for the last four days.” 

“Ah. Nothing, then.” You tip your head to one side. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just feeling kinda weird. I really am hungry, handsome, and you aren't very gentlemanly in letting me starve.” You share a smile. You say everything so particularly, it only serves to endear you to him more and more. It's like… you're just sure of yourself, and in love with the world, and at least a little in love with him. Having you here with him makes the job easier. 

“You're hungry?” he asks, standing up. He expects no answer, nor for you to stand, but you clamber onto your feet quick as anything with wide eyes. 

“I was only–” You pause. 

Hotch can see the moment you lose sight of where you are, that far away gloss to your eyes, the rapid blinking that follows, and your hand thrown out to his too quickly. You grab at his arm roughly and he's crueller in his reaction, grabbing you under the arms with a startled, “Hey.” 

“Is she alright?” Spencer asks, his chair smacking the desk as he stands. 

Your lips pull down into a frown, eyes squeezed closed. He's startled —Hotch didn't even know you could frown outside of a joke. You're feeling that heavy, sudden wrongness that comes with being faint, he'd guess. 

He rides it out with you, holding you tight. After a few moments your eyes peel open, a spark of upset about you that quickly lends to sheepishness. “Oh, sorry,” you say softly. 

“Don't be.” 

You gather your bearings. Hotch moves his hands to a more amicable place on your arms, more to comfort than to hold, while Spencer stands and offers you his bottle of water. 

“She good?” Gideon asks Hotch. 

That perks you up. “I'm always good, sir,” you say, sending a smile at your boss from over your shoulder. “Just flirting with Agent Hotchner.” 

“Did you take your medication?” Hotch asks, cutting the fat of the conversation clean off. 

“Yeah, I never miss it.” 

He is admittedly more concerned about you than one coworker would be for another after a dizzy spell, but you aren't just a coworker. Hotch cups your cheek quickly in his hand to gauge your temperature and deduces from there that it isn't a sickness. 

“You weren't exaggerating about being starved,” he decides. Your iron pills do so much, and you have to do the rest. “Reid, what foods help with anaemia?” 

“Anything rich in iron. Red meat, pork, poultry, dark greens, especially spinach. All kinds of beans,” Spencer reels off. 

“Any of that sounds good to you?” Hotch asks, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. 

You meet his lowbrow with softer eyes, nodding your appreciation. Your lips part to answer him, but you're cut off. “Be quick about it,” Gideon says, glasses slipping down his nose as he turns back to his case file, “we have a lot to do.” 

Hotch buys you a burrito for the iron and a smoothie because you deserve it. You kiss his cheek, and apparently he deserves that for being ‘such a sweetheart’. He doesn't bother pretending he doesn't want it, or the second or third kiss that comes after.

[soulofapatrick]

Protect You - Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Summary: You come into work injured and Hotch accidentally outs your relationship

Words: 1.8K

Warnings: None really

Notes: I honestly don't know where this one came from but enjoy hehe

Y/N’s POV

As I step into the familiar confines of the BAU bullpen, a sigh of relief escapes my lips upon noticing it’s only Spencer present as the others always arrive later. Hotch and Rossi must be holed up in their offices, shielding them from witnessing the bruised left side of my face and the split lip that I’m trying to conceal with my hair, keeping my head down. I would try make-up but they’re profilers, we’re profilers, there’s no point hiding any of it as they’ll work it out. 

Every moment reminds me of the ache throbbing on my face, a constant reminder of the altercation that occurred early this morning. I try to mask the discomfort with a tight-lipped smile, but I know Spencer sees through it the moment his gaze flickers up from the file he’s absorbed in. His eyes widen in concern, and he’s on his feet so fast his chair clatters to the ground, abandoning his document to rush to my side. 

I appreciate his silent understanding, his quick grasp of the situation without needing an explanation. It's moments like these that remind me why the BAU feels like family.

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice is gentle, his concern palpable as he takes in my appearance, eyes flickering over the bruises, assessing whether I need medical or not, “What happened to you?” 

I offer a weak shrug, sliding onto my desk so Spencer can slide into my chair like we usually sit, waiting for Emily, JJ and Morgan to arrive, “Oh just a little accident.” I murmur, trying to downplay the severity of it, though the pain pulses with each word. Spencer raises his eyebrows, scoffing lightly, drawing a heavy sigh from me, I relent, knowing I can’t actually keep it from my best friend, “Jessica might have found me in Hotch’s bed this morning after he left to be here early,” I pause, letting that sink in first, the fact I was in our boss’ bed, “She… well, she punched me and I just left her… she’s still grieving and it’s been just over a year now…” 

Spencer's hand finds mine, a silent gesture of solidarity amidst the chaos. And in that moment, I'm grateful for his unwavering support, his quiet strength anchoring me to reality when everything feels like it's spiralling out of control, “Are you going to tell Hotch?” 

Before I can respond, the authoritative timbre of Hotch’s voice cuts through the air, drawing my gaze towards his office. Instinctively, I turn my head away, a futile attempt to shield him from the truth of what his ex-sister-in-law had down to me. But it’s too late. The damage is already written across my bruised face, a stark reminder of the violence that had erupted in the early hours of the morning. 

Hotch strides into the bullpen, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on me, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. "Tell me what?" His voice is clipped, demanding answers that I'm not ready to give. Spencer gets up from my chair and moves over to where the coffee station is, staying within hearing distance but giving us enough privacy. 

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of Hotch's gaze bearing down on me like a heavy burden. "It's nothing, Hotch," I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper as I keep my head bowed, unwilling to meet his gaze. But I can sense his skepticism, his unwavering determination to uncover the truth lurking beneath my hesitant words.

Before I can protest further, Hotch grips my chin with a gentle finger and thumb, forcing me to raise my face and meet his gaze. The shock that flashes across his features sends a shiver down my spine, his expression morphing from concern to horror, then to simmering anger barely contained beneath the surface. 

His voice is low, a dangerous undercurrent lacing his words as he practically growls, “Who did this to you?” 

I try to shake my head free from his grip but he won’t let me, cognac eyes full of anger as he searches my face. Every part of my wants to submit to him but I can’t ruin the last bit of Haley he has left by telling him and he finally sighs. He takes a risk and presses his forehead to mine, eyes closing and taking a deep breath before he’s letting me go and taking a step back just as the bullpen doors open. With one final lingering look he turns to the others and tells them to meet him in the meeting room in ten. 

As Spencer intercepts Hotch on his way back to his office, a sense of foreboding settles over the bullpen, amplifying the tension already thick in the air. I watch, heart sinking, as Spencer murmurs something to Hotch, the words lost in the charged atmosphere. Hotch's head snaps up, his entire demeanour shifting in an instant. Even from behind, I can sense the fury radiating off him, a palpable force that sends a shiver down my spine. Whatever Spencer said has stirred a tempest within Hotch, one that threatens to consume everything in its path.

Before I can comprehend the gravity of the situation, Derek's voice breaks through the tense silence, his concern evident in the way he addresses me. "Oh shittt, what happened to you, baby girl?" he asks, his usually jovial tone replaced by genuine worry. 

Spencer slumps back into my chair, his expression somber as Derek rounds the desk to his, drawing Emily and JJ's attention in the process. In moments like these, the boundaries between colleagues blur, replaced by the unspoken bonds of friendship and camaraderie that define us as a team. They crowd around me, their questions a chorus of concern as they inspect the bruises marring my skin. Despite their genuine care, I can feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken questions lingering in the air like a heavy fog. 

Just as I'm about to ask them to drop it, a voice cuts through the chaos, echoing from Hotch's office with a force that silences the entire bullpen. "HOW DARE YOU LAY A HAND ON HER?!" Hotch's voice booms, despite his door and blinds being shut, reverberating off the walls with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

A stunned silence settles over the bullpen, the air thick with tension as Hotch's voice echoes through the confines of his office, despite the closed door and drawn blinds. His words hang in the air like a heavy pall, commanding attention and demanding justice. The sudden yelling draws Rossi out of his office, his expression a mix of concern and confusion as he surveys the scene unfolding before him. It's rare to witness Hotch lose his composure, and even rarer to hear him raise his voice with such raw intensity. 

But, as the seconds tick by, the tension in the air becomes almost palpable, a tangible force that hangs heavy around us. We exchange uncertain glances, the weight of Hotch's anger casting a shadow over the once tranquil atmosphere of the bullpen. And then, just as quickly as it began, Hotch's voice rises again, the sound muffled by the closed door of his office. Despite the distance, his words carry with them a sense of finality, a declaration of his unwavering resolve, “I CAN DATE WHO I WANT, YOU DON’T GET TO DICTATE IF Y/N IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME.” 

As Hotch's voice reverberates through the closed door of his office, his words cut through the heavy silence like a knife. The weight of his declaration hangs heavy in the air, leaving us all stunned into silence.

Derek's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape as he processes the implications of Hotch's words. Emily's eyes widen, a mixture of shock and admiration reflecting in her gaze as she exchanges a quick glance with JJ. Spencer, ever the observer, remains stoic, his expression unreadable as he absorbs the gravity of Hotch's statement. 

The realisation settles over us like a heavy blanket, each of us grappling with the implications of Hotch's unwavering resolve. In that moment, it's clear that he's not just defending my honour; he's asserting his autonomy, refusing to be swayed by the opinions or judgments of others. And as the echoes of his words fade into the background, we're left in a stunned silence, the weight of the moment pressing down upon us like a tangible force. For a brief moment, the chaos of the world outside fades away, replaced by the quiet intensity of the bullpen. 

But our reverie is short-lived as Hotch reemerges from his office, his face flushed with anger and frustration. His gaze sweeps over us, a silent command to gather ourselves and move forward. Without a word, he gestures towards the conference room, his authoritative presence brooking no argument. 

As the rest of the team practically rushes towards the conference room, driven by the urgency of the moment, I find myself lingering behind. The weight of everything that has transpired settles heavily upon my shoulders, anchoring me to the spot as I struggle to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. I remain perched on the edge of my desk, head bowed, my hands suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. The sound of familiar footsteps draws nearer, the rhythmic cadence echoing through the empty space of the bullpen. And then, like a beacon in the darkness, Hotch's shiny smart shoes appear in my line of sight, his presence casting a warm glow against the backdrop of uncertainty. 

He says my name softly, a gentle reminder that I'm not alone in this moment of vulnerability. I lift my gaze to meet his, finding solace in the depths of his unwavering gaze. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the tumultuous journey we've embarked upon together. 

In that moment, he looks at me like I've hung the stars, like I'm a goddess deserving of reverence and adoration. It's a gaze that speaks volumes, a silent confession of the depth of his feelings. And then, with a gentle touch, his hand reaches out to cup my unbruised cheek, his touch a balm against the ache of the morning's events. In the stillness of the bullpen, he draws me into a soft kiss, a silent promise of solidarity and unwavering support. In that fleeting moment, time stands still, the chaos of the world fading away as we find solace in each other's embrace. And as we pull away, the weight of the world feels a little lighter, buoyed by the strength of the bond that binds us together.

With a silent understanding, we rise from the tumult of the morning, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And as we make our way towards the conference room, hand in hand, I know that no matter what the future holds, we'll face it together, united by the unbreakable ties of love and loyalty.

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka

[silverhairsimp]

who's gonna take care of you? k. bakugou

I am sicker than sick and couldn't sleep last night so here's some bakugou fluff.

Pairing & CW: Bakugou x f!reader. Reader and Bakugou have two kids. Brief mentions of pregnancy from Mitsuki (Reader is not actually pregnant). pure, sickly sweet fluff.

Katsuki looks at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, 7:24am. Usually you’d have been up for at least a half hour by now, maybe more. The kids have to be to school at 8:30, it’s only a 12 minute drive, but they like to get there early and play with their friends before their day of learning starts. He looks at the two of them sitting at the counter, digging into their fresh pancakes and waffles with a variety of fruits. They were similar in a lot of ways, but your daughter refuses to eat pancakes, the same goes with your son and waffles. And what kind of number one dad would The Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t make his brats happy?

“You two stay here and finish eating— gonna go check on your ma’,” he calls out to them before heading down the hall, only to stop with a hand on the doorframe to look back at them. “And no eatin’ spoonfuls’a syrup this time! That shi— crap’ll give you diabetes.” 

The two of them laugh at their dads empty threat, knowing they’ll at least sneak one or two spoonfuls before he gets back. 

He has an office day today, full of paperwork and unfished reports that need to be submitted by the end of the week. He’s been working overtime, which means you have too. Working overtime at your own job and taking care of the kids when he gets home too late or leaves too early for work. 

“Baby—“ he calls out when he pushes open your bedroom door. Your cheeks are flushed red, your brows are knit together, you’ve got a mound of blankets on you, yet your feet are sticking out from the bottom. “Hey, y’doing okay?” He asks as he gets closer, sitting next to your sleeping form on the bed when he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, followed by placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Jesus babe, you’re burnin’ up. Might be running hotter than I normally do…” 

His words are laced with concern as he heads to your shared bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with as cold of water he can get before wringing it out. For good measure, he grabs the thermometer and to confirm his suspicions.

“Open up for me, baby.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your eyes finally open when you bring your hand up to touch the cold cloth on your forehead. “‘Ts cold…” you mumble and he slips the thermometer underneath your tongue. “Yeah and you’re hot—“ he waits for the thermometer to finish rereading before he adds: “101.9 to be exact.” 

You try to sit up, “I’m fine…”but the pressure in your head is too much so you flop back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what year you think I was born, but I know what fine is. And you, are not fine.” 

“But the kids— they have school, you have work— I have things to do around the house.” You try to protest in between a fit of coughs, but he plants an arm against the bed, palm down at your side caging you in. “you know the hag— my mom,” he corrects when you give him the glare, “she loves taking them to school. Eijiro too. I could call either one and they’d drop ‘em off. And with work, that’s one of the perks’a bein’ your own boss.” 

He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, trying to hide the wince at how warm your skin is. Gods you must feel like shit. “Lemme call my mom—“ he steps out of the room and gently closes the door, calling in a favor to the woman who always saves his ass. 

‘Yeah, y/n sick, real sick. Need someone to drop off the beats at school. What? Morning sickness? No she’s not pregnant again. She’s sick sick. Got’a fever of almost 102. Yeah, they ate. Yes, lunches packed. Ugh— what kinda father do you think I— mmgh. Thanks ma. They’ll be ready for ya.’

He comes back in the room slight shake to his head as he thinks back to the conversation he just had with his mom. Your youngest is 6 and she’s been itching for another grand baby, but that’s too bad. She’s got two good ones to love on anyway. “Moms comin’ to pick em up in 15.” 

The two of you can hear the padding of feet running down the hall and your two replicas appear in the door frame. 

“Mommy what’s wrong? Did you catch a bug?” Your 8 year old son asks you as he pushes his hips to the bed. He may have his fathers eyes but he’s got your color hair and the sweetest personality to match. 

“Ew! Why would mommy catch a bug!! That’s so yucky!” Your daughter chimes. She’s got that ash blonde hair to match her fathers and definitely gets his personality. 

“Yeah, squirt, mama’s not feeling great so your Gramma Mitsuki is gonna take you to school.”

“Katsuki— you really shouldn’t have asked your mom to come all the way here.” 

“You say all the way here like she doesn’t live 8 minutes down the road.” He smirks at you, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna miss the opportunity to be involved in your kids’ lives. 

“Daddy, why can’t we stay and take care of mommy like she takes care of us when we’re sick?” Your boy asks with those gorgeous ruby red eyes peering down at you. “You guys have to stay in school and get good grades. You wanna have your own agency and be the number one hero like your daddy don’t you?” You smile at the two of them and lift your hand off the bed to cup their cheeks one at a time. 

Your daughter flexes her little muscles and grits her teeth. “Yeah mommy! We’ll get strong so we can take good care of you some day!” 

Each of your kiddos leans in to place a kiss to your cheek, it’s no use trying to stop them either. They’re both stubborn, just like you and Katsuki. 

“Go get cleaned up before Gramma gets here— and don’t think I can’t smell the syrup on those sticky fingers, you little shits!” 

It’s no use trying to protest the language when you hear the fit of laughter and screams as they run back down the hall. 

Katsuki gets up to make sure they’re heading out to wash up and grab their school bags while he makes another call to the agency, letting Mina know he won’t be in. 

You’ve nearly fallen back asleep by the time he comes back with a hot bowl of homemade soup, a freshly squeezed cup of orange juice, a ginger shot and two pieces of toast. “They’re right ya know. You’re like super woman to them— and even she needs help sometimes.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and turns on the tv for some back ground noise before he grabs his computer and sits next to you in bed. 

“Katsuki. You’re gonna get sick if you stay here—“ you try to protest and he just smiles and puts the cold rag on your forehead. “Yeah… and when super man needs help; I know you’ll be there too..” He lands a fat one right on your lips and smiles. The two of you share everything together. Even the cooties…

[baldval]

heyy! You dont have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable it is a little darker…

can i request overlords finding out that reader selfharms? Like they knew she was unstable but they didnt think that much

thank you!!!

BEING COMFORTED BY HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: alastor, vox, velvette, valentino, lucifer, adam

warnings: sad reader, slightly ooc adam (that man is so hard to write omg)

a/n: ik i said i'm comfortable w darker asks, i just don't really feel ok w writing about such heavy/negative topics (especially sh), but don't worry anon, should've added that mb. anyways, i give you hazbin characters comforting reader in return 🫶🫶

ALASTOR:

ᯓ he’s not exactly a ‘sit down and talk about feelings’ type of person

ᯓ but he can tell when something’s wrong

ᯓ and he wants nothing more but to make you feel like you’re on top of the world

ᯓ he sees your pouty face when you get home

ᯓ “hey, darling, come look,” he says

ᯓ he’d been at work when you’d left

ᯓ so he’s had some time to figure out what to do for you without making it seem like he’s prying

ᯓ he’ll ask you about what’s bothering you once you’ve relaxed

ᯓ he plops down on the couch, dragging you with him

ᯓ your favorite movie is paused on the tv, waiting to be played

ᯓ “i found an extended version. with bloopers and deleted scenes and everything,” he murmurs

ᯓ the entire movie, his hand is rubbing up and down your back

ᯓ his fingers sometimes creep up your neck, playing gently with your hair

ᯓ the entire thing is extremely soothing

ᯓ you know he knows something’s wrong

ᯓ and you also know he’s going to do everything in his power to fix it

ᯓ and you’re so grateful he just loves you

VOX:

ᯓ he doesn’t need you to say anything, ever

ᯓ he just knows what you need

ᯓ when he comes home and finds you in bed early, he knows you’ve had a difficult day

ᯓ he doesn’t know what happened, but he won’t ask until you’re feeling better

ᯓ he changes out of his work clothes and just gets into bed with you

ᯓ when you don’t say anything either, he pulls you into a cuddle, one hand pressing your head to his chest and the other cupping your hip

ᯓ “hi, vox.”

ᯓ he peppers your face in kisses

ᯓ “feeling off?” he asks

ᯓ you nod

ᯓ his fingers go to stroke your jaw

ᯓ “you can talk to me, you know. i want to make it better,” he tells you

ᯓ so you tell him everything

ᯓ whatever the issue was, the next day, he’s found some way to solve it

ᯓ just for you

ᯓ anything for you

VELVETTE:

ᯓ the minute you come home from work, exhaustion and misery rolling off of you in waves, she demands to know what’s wrong

ᯓ “is someone bothering you? is it your boss again? because i can get him fired.”

ᯓ you tell her everything

ᯓ she promises to help you with whatever it is that’s causing you trouble

ᯓ she’d tip the earth off it’s axis if you asked

ᯓ “come here, i want a kiss,” she tells you

ᯓ you very happily oblige

ᯓ she spends the entire night just spoiling (and worshiping) you

ᯓ the sheets of your bed are tangled between both your legs

ᯓ you’ve never felt more loved

ᯓ she murmurs about how your aniversary is coming up

ᯓ and tells you to get your nails done and dress pretty

ᯓ you don’t really know how you got here

ᯓ but you’re not upset

ᯓ you smile up at the ceiling, delightedly dazed

ᯓ you don’t even remember why you were upset

VALENTINO:

ᯓ he feels what you feel

ᯓ and at this point he can never leave you alone

ᯓ he NEEDS to be with you 24/7

ᯓ so naturally it’s like he’s dying when you come home looking upset

ᯓ “hey, no kiss hello?” he whines

ᯓ that manages to get you to laugh

ᯓ he smiles at your smiling

ᯓ you go over to kiss him and he catches your wrist before you walk off

ᯓ “no, c’mere,” he insists

ᯓ he tugs you into his lap and winds his arms around your waist

ᯓ he sets his chin on your shoulder

ᯓ “why’re you upset?”

ᯓ “oh, it’s nothing, val.”

ᯓ “bullshit.”

ᯓ you spill

ᯓ he rubs circles into your hip bone

ᯓ “i’d be upset, too,” he admits

ᯓ he kisses all up your neck

ᯓ “but we don’t have to think about that at all now. can we just spend some time together? i promise, though, if you’re still having problems i’ll gladly fuck up as many lives as you need.”

ᯓ you laugh, making him laugh

ᯓ you spend the rest of the night just sitting there talking to him

LUCIFER:

ᯓ the two of you are watching your current show, as you do every night, and he notices you’re zoning out

ᯓ he pauses it and looks down at you

ᯓ he dots a couple kisses over your brow

ᯓ “everything okay?”

ᯓ “rough day…”

ᯓ “why didn’t you tell me?”

ᯓ his expression is one of concern now, yet still absolutely laden with affection

ᯓ “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to keeping things from you or anything. i just don’t want to bother you.”

ᯓ “i want you to bother me. say everything that comes into your brain, i want to hear it.”

ᯓ he pulls you closer, palm smoothing over the back of your neck as he sets your head against his chest

ᯓ you tell him about your day, and how you were getting so frustrated

ᯓ frustrated everything was going wrong today, frustrated that the entire week was going wrong

ᯓ he listens intently, stroking your hair the entire time

ᯓ he gives soft “mhms” and “of courses” at your words

ᯓ he peppers warm kisses all over your face

ᯓ he does his best to give you a solution

ᯓ even if what he suggested doesn’t work, he’s sending you flowers to your house for the next week

ADAM:

ᯓ he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit

ᯓ he’s a little nervous to ask what’s wrong

ᯓ he’s afraid he won’t know what to do to make you feel better

ᯓ “hey, uh, everything okay?”

ᯓ you shrug

ᯓ “wanna talk about it?”

ᯓ you tell him everything

ᯓ he nods the entire time, his eyes never leaving your face

ᯓ he’s trying to memorize everything you’re saying

ᯓ he doesn’t really have any great solutions

ᯓ and he kind of hates himself for it

ᯓ he wants to help you, even if he doesn't make it obvious

ᯓ “hey, how about we go out tonight? take your mind off things.”

ᯓ you spend the night at dinner then wandering through a night market

ᯓ you both talk nonstop

ᯓ he gets you a bunch of trinkets

ᯓ just things that remind him of you

ᯓ and a bracelet, too

ᯓ he spends a bit of time fiddling with the clasp, eventually hooking it together and letting it sit on your wrist

ᯓ you don’t take the bracelet off

ᯓ ever

ᯓ at home, he’s worried you’re still upset

ᯓ but you’re not

ᯓ you fall asleep curled up against him, your worries now nonexistent

[giuseppe-yuki]

oh, deer!

george russell x deer shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2k

warnings: asshole reporters, cursing, suggestive material

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: the ability to shift into a deer gets you out of some complicated situations

picture credits from pinterest :)

“wake up love, we are here!” george whispers, softly shaking you. 

you open your eyes slowly, and find yourself in the familiar inside of george’s sleek silver mercedes amg c 63 s. next to you, george has already turned his attention to searching in the middle console compartment for his badge, forehead wrinkled in irritation.

blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you grab your chanel clutch and feel inside for the familiar rectangle shape of you and george’s badge. even if your boyfriend was so skilled in driving that he could become one of the world’s top drivers, he definitely still had to work on his organization skills and not leave things lying around. 

you take out the badges from your bag and hand them over to george, sending him a small smile when you see the relief on his face.

“good lord, i don’t know what i would’ve done without you,” he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “i nearly had to call toto again to print me a new badge! at this rate, they should probably put a badge printer outside the gate for me when you’re not here,” he joked. 

you laugh aloud. it wasn’t often that you attended george’s races. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to- it was that your job as a lead conservation biologist in one of canada’s biggest national parks, wood buffalo, was really demanding and took up much of your time. this time though, your boss allowed you to take a few days off in order to watch your boyfriend at the canadian grand prix.

“ready to go?” george asks, putting on his team kit jacket. 

you nod, and like the gentleman he is, george hops out of his side of the car and rushes to open the door for you. 

“why thank you, good sir,” you say in a fake posh accent, taking his hand and climbing out of the car. 

the weather in montreal was slightly drizzly, but nothing you weren’t used to working in wood buffalo. you brush a few fat raindrops off of your coat as you walk towards the gated entrance of the paddock, wet gravel crunching under your feet. george reaches for your hand, entwining it with his. he suddenly turns to you. “i just want to thank you again for coming to the grand prix with me,” he says seriously. “i know you’ve been exhausted managing everything thats going on in wood buffalo and i’m so glad you’re spending your off days with me!” 

“aww, georgie!” you say grinning, “no need to thank me! i would willingly spend my break wherever in the world as long as you’re there.” 

by the time you arrived in the garage, the media had been notified of your presence. it wasn’t everyday that george russell’s shy elusive girlfriend showed up in the paddock. why haven’t you shown up at any other of george’s races? did you secretly hate him? were you hooking up with other guys while george was racing in japan? they didn’t even bother researching your background as a conservation biologist before throwing the wildest accusations at you. 

the second george left your side in the garage in order to hop in the car to start fp1, you started noticing media reporters and cameraman sneak into the mercedes motorhome in order to get the “scoop” about your attendance record at george’s races. when you looked at the live feed on the tv screens, you could see your own face staring back at you with a little frown. 

“hey, i’m a reporter for motorsport.com!” an enthusiastic woman exclaims next to you, causing you to jump a bit. “can i–”

before she could finish her sentence, a white samoyed barrels straight in the small gap between you and the pushy reporter. the dog barks at the woman, circles you a few times, and sits in front of your heeled feet, as if guarding you from the other newscasters. 

you whisper a small ‘thank you’ to the samoyed, giving a few pets on its thick white coat. you were pretty sure this was lewis hamilton’s dog, as you always saw it trailing around him in the media pen and around the paddock whenever you rewatched the f1 recaps and interviews when you were stuck in wood buffalo. the dog turns around, winks at you, and pads off towards lewis’ part of the garage. 

what the- you think. i had to be imagining that, because no way a dog just winked at me.

thankfully, the rest of the reporters keep their distance the rest of fp1, and you watch george as he gets a respectable result. you keep your distance as the engineers and strategists fix and put away parts of george’s car when he pulls back in the garage. george himself, sweaty from the multiple laps, pulls off his helmet and ear piece before approaching you. 

“how’d i do?” he says, grinning at you. his eyelashes seem extra long and his lips seem extra kissable right about now. before you can react, lewis shouts from across the garage.

“george, toto wants us in the meeting room in five. there’s an emergency meeting about tire management that he wants us to go over before fp2.” turning to you, lewis looks apologetically. “i’m sorry love, i know you probably wanted to spend some time with george before fp2, but toto was insistent on the meeting. you are welcome to wait in the driver rooms or walk around the paddock in the meantime!” 

you nod understandingly at lewis as george steps forward and wraps you in hug. he places a kiss at the top of your head, and whispers in your ear, “i’ll try and get out as soon as i can.” 

without george, lewis, and lewis’ samoyed, the reporters started to creep up to you again. your tired physical and mental state from the flight from wood buffalo along with the stress from having to talk to the journalists did nothing but piss you off even more. it got to a point where they were chasing you down, with their mics and cameras in hand. you spotted other drivers, but you were too scared to ask them for help, because you barely knew them from the small amount of time that you spent at any of the races.

you had managed to squeeze yourself between two garages at the edge of the property, haas and mercedes, to hide from the reporters, when you finally decided to use your last resort. 

you hurriedly morphed into your deer form right as the reporters found your hiding nook in between the garages. 

“huh?” a man dressed in a tropical button up says, eyeing you suspiciously. “i swear to god she ran in here!” 

a reporter from a different source shrugs. “that’s so weird. i guess we were chasing the poor girl down though. maybe i’ll come back a little later to do a double interview with her and george after fp2.”

the first man nods in agreement. “i guess so. we could possibly take a few shots of this random deer here though. it’ll be good for the nature and wildlife panel we can make for the paddock.” 

you flee from the scene the moment they are gone, and wander around the paddock, gaining attention from many fans. they stop to take a few pictures with you, not that you minded, because at least they were nicer than the reporters. fifteen minutes later, you find yourself by a patch of grass by the track. you spot a few wild rabbits hidden amidst the green blades of grass and approach them slowly. keeping mental notes about the characteristics, you continue to observe their movements. you giggle internally when they glance at you and tilt their heads in a questioning look. your shapeshifting abilities definitely had its perks, especially when it came time to analyze the wildlife. your boss had always wondered how you were able to make such accurate notes about the behaviors of other species. 

unbeknownst to you, f1tv had captured a live feed of the “cool deer by turn 10.” 

“what a magnificent creature!” david croft remarks. “it’s just wonderful seeing the wildlife around canada.”

partly through toto’s rant about how the unpredictable rain is fucking up their entire tire management plan, george has already zoned out. the word “wildlife” booming from the outside speakers is what captures george’s attention as he idly spins a pen around his fingers. perking up, he looks outside the window of the mercedes motorhome. sure enough, he sees you, his girlfriend, plastered on the gigantic screen that usually showcased the live feeds of the drivers during the race. his eyes widen the size of saucers. he could hear crofty comment on how the deer was probably seeking out the wild bunnies in order to make friends. but, from his pov, he could see you still and unmoving, probably analyzing the rabbits and taking mental notes. 

he quickly excuses himself, ignoring the questionable glances from the rest of the engineers and lewis, and rushes out the door towards the track. 

when he nears your area, he lets out clicking sounds with his tongue- three short and two long- a secret code you both had devised when you first started dating. 

you immediately lift your head and come prancing towards him, letting at a little bleat when you see the wide grin splitting his face. 

the meeting is all but forgotten when you both find yourself in george’s drivers room. you are sitting on george’s lap, lips a little bruised and hair messy after sharing a few heated kisses. 

“care to tell me why you were literally on track during my meeting?” he asks teasingly. “lewis did say you should explore the paddock, but not the grass two inches away from the track!”

you roll your eyes, and explain what went down after he left with lewis. his brow furrows more and more as you continue to describe how some reporters chased you down. 

his mood shifts quickly to furious. “i am taking this to the GPDA. this is unacceptable behavior towards anyone, much less my own girlfriend!” 

you place a hand on his chest, calming him down. “it’s okay, georgie. i understand they were just trying to do their job and get content- it’s just that they were a bit harsh, that’s all.” 

he nods, but doesn’t stop looking concerned for you. “you must still be so stressed and tired, love. i can give you a shoulder massage, how about that?” 

“a shoulder massage?” you ask, incredulously, “erm… sure.” you climb out of his lap and sit on the floor, while he places his hands onto your shoulders.

he rolls his thumbs into the sore muscles around your back, loosening them out. continuing up, kneading the tense tendons in the lower part of your neck.

you sigh in contentment, “mmm, that’s so good georgie!” when he brushes past a particularly achy part of your shoulder, you let out a groan. “a little harder,” you murmur, eyes closed in enjoyment.

at the worst time possible, you hear a loud knock on the door of george’s driver room trailer. 

“george, open up the goddamn door!” says someone in a german accent outside. “i literally hear your girlfriend’s voice in there! you better not better not be fucking when you should be in the meeting that you left half an hour ago!”

your eyes widen in surprise. “what the hell, george??? you left the meeting to come see me? why the hell did you do that?” you whisper-yell at him. 

before he can answer, the door slams open. 

toto peers in, only to see slightly sweaty george with messy hair, and a stunned-looking deer in front of him. 

“ermm… what is going on here?” he says, mouth in a frown and arms crossed. “why is the deer from turn 10 in your drivers room, george? are you a disney princess attracting all the wildlife or what?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary

@mbappebby @madkohi @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks

[wannabeschyulersister]

under pressure

You were going to kill Richie. Strangle him until he was blue in the face. What sane person would send someone 47 texts while they were at work?

The door to the Bear was locked but you pounded on it until Fak answered it. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” He genuinely looked happy to see you.

“Hi Fak. Where the fuck is Richie?” You got straight to the point.

“He’s uh, in the back I think.” Fak knew better than to keep babbling on when you were upset.

You walked across the recently buffed floor to find the tall motherfucker that doesn’t know basic texting etiquette. Once you walked into the kitchen, it was pure chaos. There was shouting (mostly coming from Richie).

“Richie!” You yelled causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

Richie’s eyes widened a little, “Hey-“

You moved towards him and immediately shut him up, “You texted me 47 times! My phone literally froze from all of the texts! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?! I was textin’ you because your boy is losing his fuckin’ mind!” Richie shouted back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Richie grabbed a piece of paper off the counter, “Look at this shit! He’s changing the menu every fuckin’ day and also has this bullshit list of non-negotiables.”

You grabbed the paper from him (more like snatched it) and quickly glanced over it. It did in fact seem like Carmen was losing his mind.

“This doesn’t give you an excuse to text me like I owe you money or something!” You handed him the paper back (more like threw it) and made your way to the back in search of Carmen. He wasn’t in the office or near the lockers. You opened the back door and he was leaning against the wall.

He looked up when he heard the door opening and was surprised to see you. “Hey, I thought you were comin’ later tonight.”

“That was the plan but Richie is a dick.”

Carmen chuckled and reached out for you. You set your bag on a nearby box and let him pull you closer. He rested his head on your shoulder, “I think I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“And by “this” you mean the restaurant?”

He nodded a little against you, “Everything is fucked.”

“It did seem a little chaotic in there today. Richie said you want to change the menu every day?”

“It’s what the best restaurants do. It’s insane, I know but we have to try.”

“Doesn’t it seem a little insane to try that though?”

“It’ll be worth it. I don’t want to let anyone down. Everyone’s countin’ on me. I want to get Syd a star. I want to help Richie and Fak. Tina. And Marcus-“

You placed your hand on the back of his head soothingly. “I know, Carm.”

“I can’t disappoint everyone. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Carm, you make me proud each and every day. What you do in that kitchen is magical. Sure, sometimes a little dramatic,” that made him laugh, “but you’re amazing at what you do. This place, it’ll start off bumpy, it wouldn’t be easy. But once you all settle into your groove, people will be fighting to get into this place.”

Carmen tightened his grip on you and took a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the anxiety practically written on his face. He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted so badly to take the burden off of him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled before kissing you softly.

“You’d have to deal with Richie’s crazy ass by yourself.”

Carmen laughed again and rested his forehead against yours, “What a nightmare.” You loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“When Sugar is out on maternity leave, I want to step in to help.”

Carmen was a little surprised about what you said, “Really? But- but what about your job?”

“I’ve talked to my boss. I’m going to use some vacation time and then reduce my hours so that I can do both.”

“No, (Y/n). I can’t have you spreadin’ yourself so thin. I don’t want you stressed.”

“I’m going to be fine. I want to be here with you and to help the others.”

“(Y/n)-“

“Carmy, I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you want me around more? I’ll take some stress off of your plate. I’ll be here late nights with you with no one else around…” you trailed off hoping he’d catch the hint.

He smiled a little bit, “Late nights?”

You nodded, “Yes, late nights.”

“I like the idea of that.”

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up! pt. ii

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | part i

note: fukuoka is the canon location of hawks hero agency

You stare at the text for what embarrassingly feels like at least the tenth time this hour.

pick you up at 8 ;)

Was sent mere moments ago from the contact Hawks, that had several hearts next to his name that you don’t remember him putting, saved in your phone after he dropped you off at work this morning.

Nearly giving your coworkers who just so happened to be looking out the windows at the time synchronized heart attacks in their cubicles, which would’ve been very hard to explain to your boss.

Who, thank All Might, was not here today.

But the millisecond you walked out of the elevator onto your floor, their nosy natures quickly won over their states of disbelief.

Desperate for the juicy details, nothing could stop them from swarming you like a group of hungry piranhas, and you’re flooded with a sea of questions you’re simply at a loss for how to answer.

“How did you meet him?” “So when’s the wedding?” “Were you rescued in a villain attack that wasn’t on the news yet?” “Oh my god, did you two—?”

“Guys!” You cut them off with a frantic wave of your hands, you did not need to hear the end of that sentence. “We just happened to meet. I, uh.”

Your coworkers look at you with expectant eyes, eagerly waiting to hear your no doubt heart-racing meet-cute story with the hero so popular, that when the paparazzi got a picture of him sipping kombucha tea, the drink went out of stock in stores nationwide faster than you could even say its name.

“I accidentally took his coffee order.”

You cringe a bit as you finish, and you’re met with the most comically shocked faces you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“You WHAT!?”

“Damn I literally just tweeted ‘my coworker stole Hawks’s coffee’ and it already has a hundred reposts.”

“Oh honey, you’re lucky our boss is out sick today. He’d fire you for that.”

“Yeah, Hawks is his all-time favorite on the charts since All Might.”

You groan. “I know! He was so nice about it too, I still feel bad.”

“You should be.”

All your coworkers simultaneously glare at your company’s front desk receptionist that somehow snuck up to your floor, who for some reason takes that as a signal to continue.

“I could never be illiterate enough to take his order if I was in that coffee shop.”

“No one cares, Janet,” everyone says in deadpanned unison.

Janet huffs and turns to leave, but not before pointedly throwing another withering look at you.

She never did like you ever since you politely corrected her grammar in that passive aggressive email she sent when you were a new hire.

Not illiterate your ass.

Throughout the day, you answer more emails, calls, and print papers in a daze.

When you go to forward an email, all you can think about is how his strong arms felt on your waist. When you go retrieve ink to refill the printer, all you can think about is his gentle yet firm grip that he had on your thighs.

This could not be healthy.

But what if it was? You’ve never been touched so intimately, so softly before, like you were something precious, even in your fleeting experiences with relationships.

No one’s made you feel this safe like he does from just being in their presence.

But you blame that on him being a hero. He was probably trained on how to calm civilians down, especially during rescues.

You don’t really think that applied to people who stole his coffee, but maybe that was just you trying to feel special.

With a shake of your head, you straighten yourself in your chair. You had to get it together.

No more thoughts of Hawks on company time until it’s time to clock out!

But it seems like the winged flirt had other plans.

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:00]

hey

[sent an image]

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:01]

saw a pretty flower on

someone’s roof and it

reminded me of you :)

You freeze when you see the notification pop up, mid-bite through the food that you picked up from your favorite aesthetically pleasing cafe for lunch.

With a mouthful of sandwich, you click on the message to text back, when suddenly the realization hits you.

You had no idea what to wear for the date.

Oh my god, what were you even supposed to wear? Was there some kind of etiquette for this?

I mean, it’s not like he’s taking you to the Hero Gala. It’s just a higher end homey sushi and ramen place, but still.

Pinterest probably didn’t have “cute date outfit ideas for going out with the freaking number two hero” in their search results.

In your mind, you nervously run through different casual but still elegant clothes to wear. Maybe that nice blouse you had been saving, the one with the ruffles on the sleeves? You bite the inside of your cheek. No, maybe your classy sleeveless turtleneck midi dress instead?

Ugh, but you’ve already worn it out too many times last month. Not to mention the current ninety degree weather would cook you alive in that.

You pray that the paparazzi wouldn’t dare to stalk you on your date, but imagine if they did and took a picture of you two?

Caption: Hawks takes girl that never wears anything else out on date.

Even worse, caption: Hawks seen taking girl that can’t dress if her life depended on it out on date.

Nope, not on your watch.

The further you brainstormed, the more each piece of your wardrobe seemed less and less fitting to wear for such an occasion.

An idea pops into your head.

What was Hawks’s favorite color? You could base an outfit off of that instead.

Thinking about it, it was probably red. Hell, if you had pretty crimson wings like him you’d forget every other color in the rainbow.

Should you text him and ask?

After a little mental wrestling yourself, you muster up all the courage you could possibly have on a Monday afternoon.

[12:20]

you

that’s so cute :((((

thank you <3

you

also random but what’s

your favorite color?

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh we playing twenty questions? ;)

you

lol i guess we are ;)

hawks ♡♡♡

hmmm ok then

hawks ♡♡♡

my favorite colors

probablyyy red

you

i knew it

hawks ♡♡♡

oh?

hawks ♡♡♡

been thinking about me

have you, pretty girl?

you

……..maybe

hawks ♡♡♡

you’re so cute when

you get all shy

Your cheeks warm at that, and you physically have to put down your phone for a moment to cool off.

[12:34]

hawks ♡♡♡

my turn

hawks ♡♡♡

whatcha having for lunch?

you

[sent an image]

sandwich :)

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh that looks yummy

you

it is!!!!

you

it’s from the cafe across

the one where i nabbed

your coffee lol

hawks ♡♡♡

ah when fate brought

us together by my overly

sweet latte

hawks ♡♡♡

i’ll make sure to stop by

it after patrol tomorrow :)

you

yay!!! lmk what you think

i want a full review

hawks ♡♡♡

yes ma’am (︶▽︶)7

you

what are you having for lunch?

hawks ♡♡♡

[sent an image]

just chicken lol

Of course he was. It did look good. The fried edges were perfectly crispy, and it was a nice golden brown color and—

hawks ♡♡♡

but i wish it was you instead ;)

you

!!!!!?1!?)$1&1$@-

hawks ♡♡♡

aw, you embarassed right now?

you

YESOHMYHOF???

you

YOU CANR JUST

SAY THAT

hawks ♡♡♡

whyyy nottt

hawks ♡♡♡

it’s true though! :(

you

oh my god i’m going to die

you

and this sandwich is

going to be my last meal

hawks ♡♡♡

noo don’t die

you

i will

hawks ♡♡♡

id miss you :(

you

then know that it

was all YOUR fault.

hawks ♡♡♡

pffft you're so cute

hawks ♡♡♡

wish i could see your

flustered face right now

you

STOP

you

i think i'm going to

have to block you

you

this isn’t good for my heart

hawks ♡♡♡

D:

hawks ♡♡♡

noooooooo!!!!!!

come backkkk!!

You had to bite back a fond giggle, feeling warm all over. How was it fair for him to be this cute over text and in person?

hawks ♡♡♡

okok but before you block me

which i don’t think you will

hawks ♡♡♡

send me your address so

i know where to pick up the

most beautiful girl alive <3

you

oh u smooth ass mf

hawks ♡♡♡

for you? always

you

UGHHH

fine here it is

you

123-4567 fukuoka, tenjin,

chuo ward, 8-91

hawks ♡♡♡

perfect

see you soon birdie ;)

After an eventful day at work, you’re turned around, glancing at your back in the mirror.

Even though the scarlet dress that falls just below your knees hugs your figure in all the right places, you still feel a little self-conscious in it.

You honestly haven’t touched it since you bought it at the mall with a friend, who insisted that red was your color even when you had wrinkled your nose.

But as you admire the smooth, soft fabric of it now, you can’t help but be reminded of a certain someone’s beautiful wings.

You think you were really starting to warm up to the color.

A spritz of your favorite perfume and slight touch up of your makeup later, you hear a knock on the door to your balcony.

That must be him!

You excitedly unlock the sliding glass, and you’re finally greeted with the sight of Hawks’s signature grin that you missed all day.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you say back, a bit breathlessly.

As if you were the one who flew all across the city just to see him.

He takes the moment to look you up and down, not in a hungry, lustful way like you’re used to when you’re around other men, even when you’re not exposing much skin.

Hawks admires you.

Like you’re a statue of a goddess, made of the most pristine marble. Like you’re a beautiful cherry blossom tree at peak bloom, with the wind serenading your soft pink petals.

Like you’re something so divinely beautiful and enchanting, you deserve to be revered.

��Wow.” Hawks opens his mouth, but no other sound comes out. The bouquet he’s hiding behind his back for you goes limp in his hand.

For a man who never runs out of words to say, he’s been rendered speechless.

There’s a tingle of anxiety at your neck and you’re suddenly a little nervous. “How—How do I look?”

Hawks takes a deep breath, and finally speaks.

“You look absolutely, astoundingly gorgeous.”

Hawks’s lips curve upwards softly when you visibly melt, his touch sweeter than the caramel of his eyes as a hand tips your chin up to meet his warm gaze that the summer heat had nothing on. 

“And that’s the least interesting about you.”

─────────

“This is really good.”

Is what you ultimately decide when you’re on the fourth piece of the unagi roll you ordered.

Hawks grins, you looked cute with your cheeks puffed up like that. “Isn’t it? I knew you’d like it.”

You nod while covering your mouth, chewing slowly to savor the delectable taste of the sushi. “I’m literally going to gatekeep this place so hard.”

“Good.” He reaches across the table for your hand with an amused laugh. “It can just be our little spot, then.”

You softly smile back at him.

“Our little spot.”

At that moment, the waiter comes over with Hawks’s shoyu ramen. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks!” Hawks beams at him, then turns his attention to the bowl in front of him.

Then a slight frown appears on his face.

You tilt your head. “What’s wrong?”

His worried eyes meet yours.

“You sure just sushi is enough? You can always order something else, it’s on me.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” You wave a hand. “I’m not really that hungry—“

“I don’t believe you.” A hint of a teasing smile plays on his lips. “Could hear your tummy growling a bit earlier.”

“You heard that?” You whine. How embarrassing.

“All the more reason to share my ramen with me.”

Your eyes widen. “You want me to?”

“I do.” Hawks stubbornly says, picking up his chopsticks to grab noodles with them. He holds them up to your lips, a growing smirk on his handsome face.

“Say ahhh.”

Throwing a quick glance around the restaurant, your cheeks flame. “Hawks!”

“What?” He’s still wearing that casual, shit-eating grin. “It’s just us and a few other people here, c’mon.”

You huff. “I can feed myself!”

“I know you can, birdie.” Hawks holds your gaze with piercing but warm eyes. “But I want to do it.”

You fiddle with your own chopsticks, looking at anything but his eyes.

“Please? Let me take care of you.”

Finally, you cave at his pleading expression.

“Okay.”

He feeds you, and you’re not still not sure why he’s so happy to do so, but you let him.

The owner of the sushi and ramen place laughs as he looks over at the booth you two had occupied a few hours before closing.

As always, there’s a generously heavy tip left on the table and this time a new, small note.

thank you, boss :> we’ll be back!! - h

─────────

It’s summer, again.

Keigo flies you back home in his arms after his patrol and your nine to five, and as you touch down on your balcony, the sky is starting to turn a brilliant gradient of orange, pink and purple as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

His eyes are lidded as he pulls you closer to him by the waist on the couch.

“You like when I’m this close to you?”

In the privacy of your apartment with the only sound being the breeze from your air conditioning and the faint chirping of crickets outside, it’s like the both of you are in your own little world.

“Yeah.” You sound muffled while hiding your burning face in his chest. “You still make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” His low voice is lilting as he tilts his head, and pulls you even closer to him with a firm hand now on the small of your back.

Keigo smirks, drinking up the sound of your little gasp. “I’m gonna take that as a yes, little dove.”

You blink dreamily, disorientated by his warmth seeping through his sleeveless turtleneck and the feeling of his firm chest against yours. He was so cozy. “Dove?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause they symbolize peace, and you’re my safe place.” Keigo’s eyes soften at the way you snuggle into him in response. He was yours too, your comfort person. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Mmm.” You’re resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Tell me again.”

“As many times as you want.” He leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re perfect.”

You let out a laugh, his breath was tickling your ear. “Kei, why’s your heart beating so fast when you say that?”

“Mm.” He offers you a sly smile, hand tracing circles on the small of your back as you lay on top of him.

“Guess you just do something to me when we’re together, birdie.”

Your eyes start to feel heavy, and you hug him even tighter at that.

“I’m so glad I stole your shitty excuse of a coffee that day.”

And it’s when he laughs from deep within his chest that you know he is too.

— Courtship feeding is believed to function as ceremonial pair bonding. The male bird usually feeds their female mate, and the resulting nutritional boost contributes to more and healthier offspring.

[popquizhot-shot]

I have like 2 ideas for Miguel O’Hara x platonic teen reader

1. Reader tries to impress Miguel with their parkour skills on missions

2. All the other spider people call reader “baby o hara” or like “mini Miguel”

OOHOHOOOO NICE, I wrote a Drabble hehee

Baby Spider- Miguel O’Hara x teen!reader

“What the actual frick Frack is that?” You say as the anomaly holds out a light that emits a low frequency sound.

“Did you actually just say frick frack? And that’s to attract her moth droids.”

“Well, when I actually swear, you give me this look!”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s bullshit.”

His head whips to you with an eyebrow raised.

“You just proved my point!” Your hand swings out to point at him.

“Can—can the both of you focus on the villain here?” The evil anomaly deadpans at the both of you.

“Shut up!” The both of you shout at her, Miguel’s claws extend.

“You know what I’ve had enough, she’s annoying me.” You groan, “let’s just get her back into her universe.”

“Be careful.” He warns.

“I’ll be fine.” Internally you’re grinning because you’re excited. Pavitr had taught you a few parkour tricks to try during missions and you wanted to show them to Miguel. You walk to the edge of the roof and look at the layout of the windows. All in jumping distance, some perfect for flipping, and it was honestly too good to be true.

“Hey!” You wave your arms to distract the anomaly. And to Miguel’s horror, you take a running start towards the edge of the roof and flip her the bird while jumping off.

“AY BE CAREFUL!” He covers his mouth in shock as you reappear, quite literally swinging upwards, as if you launched yourself like a rocket. Flying towards the heavens.

He watches as you flip mid air and use a roof ledge to bounce from one building to another. Your hands and legs constantly moving in some way. He can also see the way you turn to look at him every two minutes. Like you want him to see your skills. He smiles a faint smile under the mask.

“Hey, boss, I’d hate to break up your little moment, but the anomaly has a substantial amount of droids that are mostly being captured as we speak.” lyla informs him.

Miguel runs towards where you’re teetering off the edge of a tall building and watches as you use your webs to blind the anomaly. He takes the opportunity to launch himself from the building and swings to the anomaly, destroying her droids in the process and coming to towering over her menacingly

His clawed fingers wrap around her neck, baring it to him as his mask fades and his fangs sink into the flesh, paralysing her.

He wipes his mouth and looks at you. You’re standing sideways on a window.

“Impressive parkour, kid.”

You nod, “thanks.”

When he turns you fist bump the air and jump, forgetting that you were sideways and you fall with a shriek.

Red webbing wraps around waist, you’re pulled towards Miguel. He just looks at you for a few moments. You groan.

“I know you’re trying not to laugh.”

“What do you mean, I’m *snort* not laughing.”

After a few seconds of silence, he doubles over and takes a deep breath, and as you huff out a laugh, Miguel O’Hara, known for being a mean old grump, sputters out nonsensical words while laughing his ass off.

“Yeah, yeah you’re hilarious.” You try to calm him down, but you’re having trouble stopping yourself from laughing as well.

Suddenly a portal opens and Jessica drives onto the roof. The both of you notice her as Miguel wheezes and coughs.

“You good?” She asks after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

The man clears his throat, “Yeah, let’s take this lady back.” He throws the anomaly into the portal and walks in, “come on, kid.”

“What about you, Mini Miguel?” She raises her eyebrow.

“Perfectly fine, Jess” you grin at her underneath your mask.

[moonstruckme]

hello, hello! can i ask for an au of emt!marauders? she had a minor accident maybe in her work or college and they got called in without knowing that it was her? (shes their gf) 💘

How could I refuse??

cw: minor head injury, the teeniest tiniest hint of a praise kink

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You’re sitting on the curb holding a bag of ice to your head when the ambulance cuts its sirens, coming to a stop. The door opens and boots hit the pavement in front of you. 

“Dollface?”

You blink up into the sun. “Sirius?”

He crouches by your knees, worry making itself at home in the crease between his brows. “Hey, baby, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t think it’d be you,” you say dumbly. 

“Are you hurt?” James comes bounding around the other side of the ambulance, Remus not far behind him. You can’t say you’re not happy to see them, but you sort of wish your reunion could have waited until your date tomorrow night, when you would almost surely not have been in your work uniform and covered in pasta sauce. “Are we here for you?” 

“Technically,” you reply, somewhat bitterly. James squats beside Sirius, mouth pulling to one side. “I fainted a little bit, and my boss said he had to call an ambulance. Just so I can’t sue the restaurant, I guess. I’m totally fine.” 

“They called us and then made you sit on the curb?” Sirius asks angrily while James says, “How does one faint only a little bit?”

“They didn’t want you guys scaring the customers.” You choose to answer only Sirius’ question, shrugging. His eyes flare, and he looks towards the restaurant like he’s thinking about going inside to have some words with your manager, but Remus passes a conciliatory hand over his shoulder as he sits beside you on the curb. 

“What’s this for, love?” he asks you, covering your hand where it holds the bag of ice.

You must look as sheepish as you feel, because his eyes narrow slightly. “I guess I hit my head a bit when I fell.” 

“So,” he says dryly, “not totally fine, then.” 

“I mean, I don’t think I hit it very hard,” you try, but Remus is already removing your makeshift ice pack, tilting your head so he can see the forming bump on the side. 

“Why don’t you tell us everything that happened,” James suggests, giving your knee a teasing squeeze as Sirius moves beside Remus to jockey for a view of your head, “just so we have all the facts.” 

“I was carrying a tray to my table,” you explain, wincing as Remus passes a thumb over your wound with a murmured apology, “and I started to feel weird, like wobbly and out of it. I thought it might pass, but—” Sirius sends you a horrified look and your voice quiets, chastened. “I know I probably should have sat down or something, but I was working, you know? Anyway, then I guess I fell and smacked my head on the floor. When I woke up, the food was everywhere,” you recall with a sigh. Your coworkers are going to be less than pleased with you for leaving them that mess to clean up. 

“Is that what this is?” James asks, mouth tilting upward as he looks at the mess of your uniform. 

You nod solemnly. “Alfredo sauce.” 

“Did you land on any glass or anything?” Sirius asks you. He and Remus have evidently finished with their inspection of your head, though Remus’ hand still cups the back of your neck protectively.

“No, all the plates that ended up breaking went the other way.” 

“You thinking concussion?” James asks him. 

“No,” you say, at the same time as Sirius says, “Maybe.” 

Sirius fixes you with an odd look, half remonstrance and half endearment. “Sorry, doll, but you’re not exactly an expert. You very stubbornly did your job when you should have looked after yourself” —he squints his eyes at you playfully, giving your shoulder a mean squeeze— “now let us do ours for a bit, yeah?” 

You purse your lips in malcontent, but James is already clicking on his pen light, shining it in your eyes. “Look straight ahead for me, angel?” 

“S’not a big deal,” you mutter one last time in quiet mutiny, doing as he says. All three boys ignore you. 

James clicks the light off. “Alright, do you know the date?” 

“No.” 

“How about the year?” he asks patiently. You tell him, and he goes on to ask you the month and the day of the week. 

“Good.” He rewards you with a smile when you answer correctly. “Okay, do you feel nauseous or dizzy at all, darling?” 

When he looks at you like that? A little, but that’s probably unrelated. “No,” you tell him. 

“Headache?” Remus asks you. 

“I mean, only here.” You lay your palm over the bump to indicate it, but wince when it hurts worse than you expected. Sirius coos, taking your hand in his to prevent you doing yourself further harm. “Not on, like, the inside.” 

“Okay, that’s what I meant,” Remus reassures you. “What about why you fainted, love? Do you have any idea what happened?” 

You bite the inside of your lip, thinking. “Not really.” Your head had just hurt a bit, then you’d felt woozy, and then you’d fallen and it had hurt a lot worse. 

“Did you have lunch before you came to work?” James prompts. 

You nod. 

“What did you have?” 

You tell him. He seems tentatively satisfied. 

“And for breakfast? What about for dinner last night?” 

You think back, telling him what you can remember, and he nods, looking somewhat bemused. 

“Did you have a drink with any of that?” Remus asks.

You think harder. Had you? The realization must show on your face, because Sirius tuts. 

“There it is,” he says knowingly. “When was the last time you had water, doll?” 

“I…I don’t remember. I had coffee yesterday—”

They all groan. James starts laughing soon after, patting you on the thigh at your timid expression. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just drink plenty of water and then go home to rest, alright? You might feel shaky for a bit, so don’t get in your car to drive until you’re feeling better. Rem, do we have some water bottles in the van?” 

“Yeah.” Remus stands, palm landing affectionately on your head as he passes behind you to climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“Don’t worry,” you tell James, exhaustion seeping into your voice, “I won’t be driving for a while yet. My shift doesn’t end until six.” 

Contrary to your intentions, some of the relief saps from James’ countenance. “You’re still planning on working?” 

Uh, duh. Does he think your rent is going to pay itself? “I mean,” you say, trying to appear somewhat patient, “yeah.” 

“Well, go ahead and get that out of your head right now,” Sirius nearly laughs. “There’s no way that’s happening today, sweetness.” 

“What’s not happening?” Remus asks, uncapping a water bottle before passing it to you. 

“She thinks she’s going back to work,” Sirius says wryly. 

Remus looks at you, appalled. You only shrug, sipping at your water.

“You can’t work after a fainting spell like that. Especially not as dehydrated as you are—your body needs rest.” He shakes his head at you. “You can either get it at home or come with us to the hospital.” 

You roll your eyes, re-capping the half-drained water bottle. “That’s so dramatic.” 

“No, I’m the dramatic,” Sirius corrects you. “Remus is the reasonable one, which is how you know he’s right. Those are your options, dollface.”

You huff. “Fine, then can one of you go tell my manager that? I don’t want to be blamed for skipping the rest of my shift.” 

“You’re not skipping anything,” Sirius says, standing. “I’ll go, I’ve got some things to say to him anyway.” He cracks his knuckles, and you look to James in alarm. 

He leaps up, catching up to Sirius in a few long strides and nudging him back towards you. “I’ve got it, Pads. Why don’t you make sure she finishes that water bottle?” 

“Fine.” Sirius stomps his way back to you. “But make him answer for sending her outside to sit on the curb.”

“Please don’t!” you call after James.

Sirius’ gaze narrows, flicking between you and the water bottle beside you expectantly. “Drink.” 

“Fine, sheesh.” You pick it up and twist off the cap. Remus chuckles, picking up your half-melted bag of ice to hold it against your head for you. “Isn’t it, like, your job to be nice to people when they’re injured?” 

“I thought you weren’t injured?” Remus hums. You shoot him a look that’s meant to be intimidating, but his lips twitch upwards. “Relax, love, we’re just worried about you.”

Well, it’s hard to be mad at that. “Thanks,” you say quietly. 

Sirius resumes his crouch in front of you, taking one of your knees in each hand and squeezing lightly. “We get off in a few hours,” he says. “Would it be okay if we came by for dinner? We can bring takeout or something.” 

You lower the water bottle, looking at him with interest. Your day has suddenly taken a positive turn. “Yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Good.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. “Now be a good girl and finish your water.” 

You flush instantly, and Remus’ head swivels as if to make sure no one is nearby to have heard him. “Sirius,” you hiss, “I’m at work!”

His grin sharpens. “Not anymore, you’re not.” 

[luveline]

I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻

thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader

"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 

You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 

That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 

"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 

"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.

Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 

You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 

"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 

"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 

It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?

"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 

Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 

"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 

"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 

You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).

"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 

Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 

"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 

"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 

"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 

Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 

"I'd love to," Spencer says. 

"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 

"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 

"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 

You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 

Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 

"Sure."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

stress relief

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving handjob and oral, semi dub con (mainly power dynamics), bimbo!reader, ceo!rafe

“hey y/n.” rafes secretary says as you quickly make your way past her desk with a quick wave and into your bosses office, knowing you're a few minutes late.

“hi, bossman.” you smile wide as you enter, placing his iced coffee down on the coaster that stays sat out and ready.

“y/n, thank god you're here.” rafe groans, pushing himself away from his laptop, needing a break from staring at the screen.

“im only like five minutes late.” you pout, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. “it's just because your coffee was taking a long time and-”

“no, i don't care about that.” rafe shakes his head quickly. the second he saw you in the lobby, among the line of girls waiting to interview for his assistant position, he knew you'd be chosen.

tight pink shirt showing off your cleavage and a skirt that was clearly bought just for the interview, twice the length of what rafe guessed was your average skirt length, and quickly figured out he was right when you reverted back to your mini skirts.

“oh, okay.” all the negative emotions you were feeling are gone as you shrug.

“but i do need you for something. come here.” rafe beckons you over and you move quickly to the other side of the desk.

“what is it ya need?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.

“need some stress relief.” rafe grunts, adjusting the front of his pants from where he's painfully pressing against the zipper.

“okay, like a massage?” you question. you're not sure what the normal functions of an assistant to a ceo entails, but for how much you're getting paid, you're willing to do pretty much anything.

“yes, a massage.” rafe nods enthusiastically. “exactly. and i have one place that really needs to be massaged.”

“mmkay.” you nod, figuring it's his shoulders or something, when rafe tugs at his zipper and pulls his painfully hard cock out.

“oh my god!” you squeal, covering your face quickly, palms smacking against your cheeks.

“no, no.” rafe says calmly. “this is just part of the job, okay?”

“i… are you sure?” 

“yes. now come give me a massage so i can get back to work.”

“okay…” you take a better look at his dick, hard and long with a decent size to it that makes you imagine something you definitely shouldn't about your boss. you shake the thoughts out of your head and grab your desk chair from the corner of the room and drag it towards rafe.

you sit down next to him, glancing again between his eyes and his exposed privates. rafe gives you an encouraging nod, and there's no way your boss would lie to you, right? 

your hand reaches out to grasp rafes cock, swallowing thickly to ignore the urge to wrap your lips around it as you begin to stroke him.

“is that good?” you question.

“yeah, real good, just keep going.” rafe relaxes into his chair, plush and comfortable for the long hours he spends in the office, always arriving before you and leaving long after you've called it quits for the day.

you reach your other hand forward as well, working his length with both hands. you tug your lower lip between your teeth, focusing on his pleasure as you jack him off.

rafe keeps mostly quiet, just a slight increase in the noise of his exhales, but not quite yet a sigh. you leave one hand moving up and down his length and bring the other to the head of his cock, moving in teasing swirls before swiping the pad of your thumb right over his tip.

“oh, that's good.” rafe mutters, his eyes blinking hard to stay open, wanting to remember exactly what it's like to have you leaning forward, breasts almost spilling out as your hands work on his cock.

“anything for you boss.” you smile. you do love working for rafe. being his assistant is mostly just running errands for him, but even that doesn't take up enough of your time, so you end up online shopping and picking at your nails until 5pm hits.

“you are really good at massages.” rafe smirks, and you don't catch his implication. that you're experienced and not in literal massages.

“thanks.” you feel your cheeks blush, face heating. it's hard to get a compliment out of rafe. the nicest thing you think he's ever done is when you caught him staring at your ass as you walked away.

“keep doing that.” rafe says when you cup your hand over the head of his cock, rubbing your palm against his leaky tip.

“mmkay.” you hum again, your usual response to any of rafes demands. your other hand keeps stroking over his length, squeezing just tight enough to have rafes lower jaw dropping in pleasure.

you both jump when the phone begins to ring. rafe reaches over to quickly end the call when he sees who it is.

“stop, it's tokyo.” rafe whispers as your hands continue to move. even though you keep yourself out of the business side, you know how big of a deal the companies japanese partners are.

“answer it!” you squeal, but your hands continue to move.

rafe know he can't keep them waiting so he quickly accepts the call, trying to fix his voice while you stare at him, still stroking almost absentmindedly up and down his cock.

rafe answers the question the representative on the other end has as you drop one hand down to fondle his balls, squeezing your hand into the opening in his pants to touch them.

rafe pulls the phone receiver away from his mouth as he lets out a quiet curse, eyes pleading for you to stop, but you can't make yourself, and rafe certainly won't push your hands away when he's longed to have them on him for so long.

rafes voice is shaky as he answers questions, his cock pulsing in your hand, tip turning pink as you realize what is about to happen.

you look around for something to catch his cum as his cock pulses in your hand but you come up with nothing, so you drop your head and wrap your mouth around the head of his cock just as he begins to cum, sucking gently to empty him as you obediently swallow.

your hands fall away as you look up at rafe, lips locked around his cock. you give one final suck that has him gasping before covering it up with a cough before you pull off with a pop.

you don't even need to be asked as you tuck rafe back into his pants as he finishes up his call, tossing the phone down the second he says sayonara.

“shit.” rafe groans.

“is your stress relieved now?” you ask, somehow still looking the perfect mix of innocent and sluty even though your lipgloss is smeared from rafes cock.

“yeah.” rafe nods. “and next time i want a massage with your mouth.”