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#i call him mr. snap
youareunbearable · 1 year
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I might not do anything with this BUT I've been thinking about the Shadow of Mordor games again and how FUN would it be if Sauron did that but instead of bringing back Celebrimbor he uses his necromancy magic to bring back Maedhros
An imposingly tall figure, all done up in Sauron's spikey black armor, instead of his mace there is a wicked black blade where a right hand should be. He roams at the front of the Nazgul, blade at the ready as the other holds the reigns to a monstrous horse
People are terrified, thinking that Sauron himself is roaming the wilds, he stalks the Fellowship, nothing seems to stop him only delay him. Gandalf isn't sure its Sauron himself, but something about him under all that twisted and dark and evil song sings pure, like a dull flicker of white flame, like a weak candle.
When Boromir dies, that figure is with the orcs, it isnt the one to slay Boromir, but turns away and it seems to know where the ring is. The orcs are too focused on Merry and Pipin to follow the Figure, but he walks off. He stands on the shores as Frodo and Sam shiver in the Swan boat, but it does nothing but watch them as they sail off. It makes no motion to follow them or attack their small boat, just watch transfixed. Sam makes a comment that it looks like the Figure's armor makes it almost like it has a metal collar around its neck and cuffs on its wrists
During the battle of Helm's Deep, that Figure is back again, silently leading the siege. At one point, an Elven arrow hits the Figure's helm, knocking it a little loose and from under the helm tumbles a single red lock of hair. Its so red that almost looks like a smoldering flame. Haldir, who lives with the survivors of Doriath, sees that red hair, that tall stature, the handless right wrist and pales. While he wasn't there to witness the destruction of Doriath, he has heard the tales, he knows about the red haired monster that haunts the memories of the Sindar, and he knows what that Figure is capable of. Luckily, that Figure manages to catch a glimpse of Aragorn, and Freezes once again, a single stone that cuts through the rushing current of orcs all around him. Haldir doesn't see it again, but then again, Haldir doesn't see much of anything again.
(The Figure sees Gandalf on the hill, arriving with the dawn and reinforcments and it grieves, something in it breaks all over again but the magic puppeting its moves doesn't allow it to dwell. The helm is readjusted and the hair is tucked away and the Figure turns and leaves the battlefield. Its being summonded somewhere else.)
The war rages on, the Witch King is dead, but so is King Theoden. The Figure is trapped, the right wrist is pinned under the corpse of an oliphant and Elrond's sons watch as the Figure struggles before lying still. It's clearly not dead, but realizing it's trapped.
Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli join the twins. Gimli offers to thrust his axe in its chest, Legolas insists that he can shoot through its eye from a safer distance. Aragorn, who heard Haldir's frantic pleas during his final moments, just observes the Figure.
He notices the strange collar, how it clearly has cuffs on its wrist and feet, like it used to be shackled and chained.
"Can you speak?" He asks it.
The Figure does nothing but turn its helm towards Aragorn. They stare at each other for a few tense moments.
One of the twins, Aragorn still isn't fully sure which one, approches the Figure slowly. The Figure's helm is still directed at Aragorn.
"It feels familiar." The one twin whispers, voice raw from exertion. "It has a fea, it feels warm."
"Like uncle Erestor. Or Lindir." The other twin agrees.
The Figure turns its helm towards the twins at the mention of Erestor. The twin closest to the Figure, quick as an adder, jabs a polearm at the Figure's helm.
It snaps back, the helm tumbling off the Figure's head and those smoldering red locks fan out around the head, obscuring the face from view.
Even without seeing the face it's clearly an Elf. An abused one at that if one just looks at the notches missing from it's pointed ears. The polearm is back, nudging under where a chin should be to lift the face.
First, all that is seen is scars. So many that pull the once handsome face, for even under all its marring one can tell from the bone structure that this was a face that could launch a thousand ships, into a grotesque manner. But it is the eyes, the eyes that makes everyone suck in a breath.
These eyes glow, they glow with power, with light never been seen before, or well, haven't been seen in Ages. These grey eyes glow with the reflected light of the Two Trees, long since felled.
"Oh, Maitimo," Gandalf, who had wandered up the the group, sighed with tremendous sorrow. "What has become of you?"
Maitimo, or Maedhros as those in the Third Age know him as, tries to speak. His lips move, which brings attention to the fact that they are loosely sewn together with a black cord that seems to pull and ooze blood, never letting the wounds heal. His voice croaks, dry with misuse, but he manages a sound, a breath, perphaps even a word. Each syllable like a dying wheeze. He repeats the sound, again and again, almost becoming frantic with his wheezing chants, blood spilling down his chin from the threads, until it's understandable.
"Necromancer."
#amber rambles#silmarillion#maedhros#maitimo#silm fic#Iotr#I personally think it would be Fun and Seasonal if Mae becomes a zombie puppet for Sauron#like I already think that because of the Oath and because of his time with Morgoth and Sauron he wouldnt be able to die or hear Mandos Call#And I think Sauron would be a petty bitch enough to bring back Mae as a fun little HaHa Deal With THIS Emotional Trauma Elrond U Ass#I couldnt decide if I wanted Mae to deal with Aragorn and the fellowship or with frodo and sam but I figured if hes being puppeted#he would go after aragorn HOWEVER a fun little alternative i have#is that he goes after frodo and sam and they end up in Shelobs cave and Mae is gonna kill the hobbits but the Liquid Starlight#snaps some of his Sauron Mind Control off and activates his Omg Oath!! brain and he fights Shelob off the hobbits to grab it#and he knows he cant grab the vial cause hes Literally a figure of evil now but he just sits there and stares at it#and Little Sam goes up to him slowly and asks#If you want that vial i can help you but you must not hurt Mr Frodo anymore do you promise?#And Mae nods his head. promising.#so Sam cuts off a corner of his cloak and wraps the vial in it and hands it over to Mae who just hold the cloth bundle and begins to shake#he sobs. big wheezes and moans that cant make it past his sewn lips but he tries and Sam runs off to save Frodo while he does that#Then once gollum tosses himself and the ring into the lava and the world is crumbling around them Mae appears in the cave opening#to scoop up the tired hobbits and carry them to safety not caring about lava chasing after them. He collapses once the eagels come#Sam tries to get them to take Mae as well. But they dont and he screams and Mae just takes off his helm and smiles#He holds up the wrapped vial in his hand and with his bladed hand he cuts through the threads on his lips and shouts up to the sky#Thank You! A New Dawn Shall Rise!! and the eagles fly higher and farther and sam cant see it but he knows the lava swallowed him up#and a new dawn does rise. It rises on a new Age with a new king and a wedding and painful goodbyes and a new beginning
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Obviously Trobed is the main love story of Community and is practically canon in one way or another and I adore it, but I must say on this rewatch I'm nursing a little flicker of a fond and curious spark about the possibilties of Jabed
#No one throw tomatoes at me I'm allowed to multiship!!!#anyway something about Jeff occupying a persona out of fear and Abed occupying many personas out of love#something about Jeff being a man in his 30s so terrified of being unlovable that he crafts the persona of a man too cool for love#vs Abed a man who's been told he's weird/alien so many times that by his 20s(?) he's fully abandoned any shits he might have once gave#Jeff who makes out like he's a smooth ladykiller who has beautiful women throwing themselves at him#vs Abed who ACTUALLY has women (and men) throwing themselves at him because he's weird and it's hot#Jeff who's still not convinced he's a real person at all under the facade#Abed who's so confident in who/what he is that he can take vacations from it and step into totally different personas but always snap back#I think it's genuinely so important that they're the first two of the Greendale seven to meet/hang out#Jeff needs Abed to call him on his shit and show him it's possible as an adult to be weird and playful and loved for it#Abed needs Jeff to ground him a little and to take the group spotlight so Abed can observe and play to his heart's content#anyway i think in the best timeline we got an ep subplot like the han solo!Abed and Annie subplot#wherein Abed embodied a character Jeff has a buried crush on and briefly had a whirlwind romance with him and rocked his world#and Jeff has a crisis for like a week bc he considers himself a pickup artist who knows all the tricks#but the study group TV nerd just swept him off his feet and then strolled away like it was *nothing*#anyway don't mind me. Trying to prepare myself for a difficult day with some harmless blorbo thoughts#mr. bees speaks
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bumblingbabooshka · 1 year
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What if right after Tuvok woke up from his lil coma in “Riddles” he saw all the flowers and what to him must seem like gifts? adornments? around him and heard from the doctor how Neelix had been by his side every day he was unconscious and immediately assumed Neelix was his husband? What then?
Picturing that Tuvok’s wife guy instincts never go away so he remembers vaguely that he loves someone very much and this man is kind and cares for him and has given him all these beautiful things which Tuvok likes .... this must be the person he loves! Good v_v Also if you wanna really get into it - what if Tuvix factors into this in that Tuvok can remember (after touching Neelix in some way which he seems eager to do in ‘Riddles’, touching things in general I mean) Neelix’s crush on him which he definitely has and just assumes he must feel the same way since he does love someone quite fiercely and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is paying quite so much attention to him. I imagine that after ‘Tuvix’ Tuvok knows Neelix had/has a crush on him (it’s on and off but also constant) but they never talk about it because Tuvok would never want to talk about it and if Neelix coyly asked if he knew he’d avoid the question and if Neelix asked outright he’d straight up lie. So I’m picturing in ‘Riddles’ Tuvok talks about Neelix a lot while being treated and the doctor is amused, saying he never used to speak so highly of him and Tuvok’s horrified...he’s like !? What kind of husband was I??? And the doctor would spit out a drink if he had one.  Then he helps Tuvok access his personnel file bc he won’t believe he and Neelix aren’t married. He has a /wife/?? Where is she?? Why isn’t she on the ship?? Huh?? (the horrors, the unending horrors. He has to be sedated because of the horrors, sorrow, etc.) Neelix chuckles when Tuvok tells him the anecdote (minus the horrors) and is like why did you think we were married?? And Tuvok points out the flowers, how kind he is, how he was his only visitor, how he played his favorite music and gave him gifts and stayed/stays by his side always and knows so much about him and - ( “O K ay that’s enough~!” ) - and the fact that Neelix harbors romantic feelings towards him. Neelix stares in absolute shock. “I’m sorry. Was that secret?” “H ow....why do you think that?” Tuvok explains that he can sometimes...feel things when he touches people. And sometimes even...see, things? And when he touched Neelix he remembered seeing...himself! For the first time and thinking he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. (Which is my personal Neelix-has-a-Tuvok-crush headcanon. He saw him and IMMEDIATELY got a crush on him. Handsome alien who gives him water!) Neelix kind of wants to throw himself into a hole but he’s like “o ohh...haha. yes w ell. Me and you aren’t even...friends...so.” Tuvok frowns and gently pats Neelix’s hands and says it...hurts, when you cannot be with the one you love. He says he cannot even remember who T’Pel was, and yet he yearns for her. He doesn’t know which is worse - a love agonizingly close or a love unfathomably far away - both, for all intents and purposes, unrequited. Neelix says that T’Pel still loves him! And Neelix’s little crush isn’t even half as important as the love between Tuvok and T’pel. Tuvok blinks at him sadly and says there are many different types of love. Then he kisses Neelix’s forehead (not the Vulcan way) and thanks him for being so attentive and kind despite how it isn’t returned by the other Tuvok. The favor or his feelings. Also to be so real with you someone left a comment to the effect of ‘What if Tuvok thought Neelix was his husband in riddles’ but what REALLY spurned this on???? If we can be SO painfully real for a second??? Was hearing the song “Once Upon a Dream” which I’d NEVER heard before and my dumb ass’s first thought was wooow just like Tuvok @ Neelix in that riddles episode. SO THERE. “But if I know you, I know what you’ll do...you’ll love me at once! The way you did once upon a dream...” <- Tuvok remembering Neelix’s big stupid crush on him that he found out about when they were Tuvix and subsequently buried
#also side note (watched the start of riddles to make sure Neelix really did that gay shit/affectionate) but yeess Voyager crew lore#they have a game called 'species starship or anomaly' where you have 15 questions to guess if what the other person's thinking of is one of#those 3 things!#ALSO we get a DRAMATIC Tuvok eyeroll!!!!#Love how he says 'MIS-ter neelix'#I find myself saying that every so often#ALSO the way Neelix has a 'riddle voice' is so funny...announcing it all dramatic#HEHEHE He's SO pleased at stumping Tuvok ... and Tuvok tried to get away with giving an answer that he /knew/ wasn't right#An underrated character trait about Tuvok is how he's a sore loser <3#Tuvok: -writhing on ground after being attacked-#Me: BABYGIRL NOOOOOOh my god is he wearing heeled boots~?#Also an EXTREMELY underrated character trait of Neelix's is how quick he is to accept or assign blame to himself...he feels guilty a lot#and is often apologizing or saying he's responsible for things#'If anyone can provoke Tuvok mr Neelix...it's you.' <3 Frenemies...hatedates.... <3<3#Tuvok has a proto-vulcan drama book in his room...'clash of fire planes'....interestinginteresting#EVERYTHING'S FROM HIS ROOM EXCEPT THE FL OWERS....NEELIX WENT TO AIRPONICS BAY AND PICKED THOSE HIMSELF#WAAAA.....WAAAAAAAA.....#-snaps out of it- One of Tuvok's 'favorite' songs is MONKS CHANTING!??!?! CATHOLIC CODED. WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM <3#Also Neelix going 'Nice picture! You should see mine...it's awful~' HOW DO Y'ALL HATE THIS MAN#'(resigned) yes I did {interrupt}....you were pondering. v_v'#Tuvok: (definitely remembering all those flowers and stuff Neelix surrounded him in when he first woke up) We...weren't friends??#Neelix: W ell........Imean I had a HUGE crush onyou <- THIS IS TRUE. THIS IS A FACT.#'I certainly felt affection for you' OKAY. BISEXUAL MOMENTS.#Tuvok (sore loser-core): -wakes up from brain damage- FUCK Neelix stumping me with that fucking riddle. I /will/ one up him somehow.#CanNOT get over the fact that the writers literally made Tuvok say all he wants is to have fun with Neelix....what ELSE are they implying if#not some sort of crush????#ALSO the fact that Neelix knows Tuvok feels emotions and /does/ have fun and everything but just calls it something else or doesn't express#it.....GOD....#Also also autistic Tuvok moments (not responding when spoken to at the end of the episode)#OK THATS ALL BYE
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botls · 4 months
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grover: that’s dionysus!
percy: no waay
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)
Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 
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Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 
You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 
“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-
“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 
“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 
“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 
Which was a mess in itself. 
You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 
“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 
You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 
“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 
“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 
“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.
“Y/n” 
You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 
“Y/n” 
Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 
“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 
“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 
In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 
Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 
He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 
You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 
You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 
“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 
“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 
“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 
“I shouldn’t have messed u-
“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 
“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.
“What did you miss” 
“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 
“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 
You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 
“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 
“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 
“Please what, sweets” 
“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 
“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 
“Sir, pleasee” 
“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”
He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 
“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 
“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 
“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 
Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 
“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 
“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 
“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE
“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 
“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 
“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 
“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 
“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 
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psychedelic-ink · 7 months
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'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.
pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader
genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni
word count: 3k
summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.
warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink
a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf
thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜
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“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”  
Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body. 
Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper. 
The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding. 
You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim. 
Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now. 
“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.” 
Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.” 
He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand. 
“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.” 
“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know. 
You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.” 
He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.” 
“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?” 
Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.” 
“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?” 
Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.” 
“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.” 
He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while. 
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It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it. 
You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like. 
Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm. 
You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt. 
He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault. 
Then the kiss had happened. 
It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt. 
“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?” 
At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that. 
But now you do. 
“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.” 
“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward. 
He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?” 
Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining  with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver. 
“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.” 
You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .” 
“Hear  that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 
You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?” 
“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.” 
“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?” 
“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.” 
“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.” 
“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.” 
He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.” 
When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you. 
“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone. 
“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.” 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.” 
He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 
Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns. 
“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.” 
Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates. 
Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick. 
“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you. 
The world around you becomes a bright white when you do. 
Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—
“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets. 
His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek. 
“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.” 
Joel squeezes your breast as  his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 
You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses. 
Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you,  fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time. 
His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves. 
“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously. 
Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. 
“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?” 
It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss. 
“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.” 
You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him. 
“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile. 
“Inside me, daddy, please.” 
“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—” 
You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach. 
While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him. 
“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver. 
“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” 
“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.” 
“Don’t have to what?” 
“Send the video.” 
You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.” 
He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.” 
“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger. 
“I guess I will.”  
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deadsetobsessions · 14 days
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6][Pt.7]
“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”
Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”
“Wait, I’m just here to-”
“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”
Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.
“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.
“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”
Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”
“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”
Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.
“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”
“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”
“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.
“So, what brings you to Gotham?”
Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”
“You go to school?”
“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”
“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”
Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?
“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”
Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?
"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"
Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"
"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"
"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."
Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."
Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."
"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.
'Careful,' Black Bat signed.
"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"
Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.
'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.
"You know sign language?"
"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."
He knew ghost-sign first, after all.
"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."
----
Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.
"You two can come back anytime."
Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.
"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."
"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"
"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."
Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.
----
"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"
Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.
"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."
"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.
"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"
"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.
"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.
"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"
"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"
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reiderwriter · 7 days
Text
Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader
Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.
Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.
A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...
Masterlist
If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 
Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 
Including your most recent problem  child. 
You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 
Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 
You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 
Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 
You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 
“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 
“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”
“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 
The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 
“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 
“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 
“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 
“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 
You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 
“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 
You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 
“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 
“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 
“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 
“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 
The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 
“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 
In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 
“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”
“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 
The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 
“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 
“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”
The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 
“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 
“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 
The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 
“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 
You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 
“Great. Sure, let's go see.”
Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 
“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 
“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 
Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 
“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 
“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 
If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 
“Harper, that's not how it works-” 
“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 
“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 
Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 
“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 
The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 
“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 
“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 
“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 
“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.
"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 
Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 
You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 
“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 
The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 
“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 
The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 
“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 
“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 
“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 
“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 
The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 
“It was that obvious?” 
“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 
“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 
“Secret part?” 
“To make the other baby, silly!” 
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notmyneighbor · 25 days
Text
Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 1
Word Count ~1k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, character death, eventual smut(not in this chapter)
Excerpt ~ You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.
You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and a long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers.
They’re getting better at the replication.
It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.
You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers. They’re getting better at the replication. It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.
Yet there’s still something off. Something in the way the flesh sits on his bones. Almost a shift, like a mirage in the desert: a shimmery, not quite real haze that’s there and gone again in the blink of an eye. He lays his fingers against the glass, splayed directly across from your face. The pretender’s lips curve into a smile. “Let me in,” he says, and it’s identical to the real milkman’s voice, that same sleepy, gentle tone you’re used to hearing day in and day out, and your heart lurches. When had it happened? When had he been taken? During a delivery? Lured into some back alley? Some devious doppelgänger asking for help, maybe, and of course he’d obliged, he was kind like that, he’d never refuse anyone. You envision the wire rack cradling the bottles of dairy product dropping from nerveless fingers, the glass shattering. White mixing with the bright red blood that leaks out of him all over the pavement.
You wince at the gruesome image. Poor, trusting, foolish man.
“Let me in,” he says again, and the words drag at something deep inside of you. A glint of something feral in the dark eyes now. This imposter knows you can sense his deception. “I know what you need. I can give it to you…”
Another chord strummed on the string of your spine, vibrating along your body. Had he taken over Francis’ thoughts? Sorting through the milkman’s memories like digging through a box of old photographs, perhaps. Choosing which ones to keep and which ones to discard. Had the unfortunate third floor resident known about your hopeless crush? He must have. How else would this creature target your desires so readily? The knowledge of this wounds you. Francis had known, and he hadn’t acted on that knowledge. No return of your feelings. Maybe he’d just been shy.
Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.
“You must be so tired, working so hard. You deserve to rest. Collect a reward.” His tongue darts out to moisten his lips and this is the first foreign gesture that completely confirms your suspicions: this is not Mr. Mosses.
Everything you need is right in front of you. The entryway door is still securely locked. The rotary phone is mere inches away. You can call in the team at any time now. Save everyone. Except for Francis, of course; it was too late for him.
“Sweetheart, please let me in.” Attracting flies with honey. His voice dripping affection. His fingertips blanch against the glass. The brim of his cap slides further down his brow. A single track of perspiration leaks down his cheek. The body still fighting, even now. Resisting. Rejecting the invader. But it was too little, too late.
“I can’t let you in.”
His head snaps up and the eyes are bloodshot, spidery lines of crimson streaking across the white orbs. A thin trail of saliva drips from one corner of his mouth. “Can’t, or won’t?” Straight to vinegar now. Acidic tone. It lashes against you. You’re shaking.
“I know what you are,” you declare in a whisper.
The replicant raises his free hand, fingers curling into a fist before striking the pane. It rattles in its casing and you gasp. You’d always thought the material was shatterproof. “You don’t know anything. How can you? You run unchallenged for a small fraction of years and you think you know all there is to in the universe. Such arrogant, fragile things you are,” he murmurs, and the sudden calm unnerves you even more than the rage.
You begin to reach for the receiver and his fingers slide down the glass, squeaking as they go. “Wait. Don’t do that.”
You pause, hand still outstretched. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice. You don’t have to be one of the mindless sheep.” His nostrils flare, inhaling deeply. “Francis loved that fragrance you wear. He liked so many things about you. You’ll never know how much if you make that call.”
You suck in a sharp breath. Was it true? Or just a ruse to get you to spare him? “He’s gone. There’s no getting him back now.” Your voice warbles, your fingers trembling as you reach again. Making contact with the ebony plastic this time.
“He’s right here. You could have him. All you have to do is let me in.”
You lift the receiver from the handset cradle. The spiral cord connecting the two sways like a tightrope beneath an acrobat walking its length. You feel like that performer. Teetering on the edge between life and death. Yours. The people in the building. You have a duty to protect them.
The uniformed man’s eyes slide closed. Dark lashes light as moth’s wings kissing his cheeks. He’s humming softly. A melody you’d heard every time Francis had left for his route. The tune unfamiliar. But it’s his. Had always been unique to him. Why hadn’t you asked what song it was? Why hadn’t you…
The handset drops back down and the dial tone is silenced. His eyes reopen. “Let me in, love.” The softest, sweetest smile. You reach for the buzzer. Staring at your hand as if you don’t recognize it as your own. “I’ll give you everything you want, sweet girl.” Nearly to the button now. “There you go. Just a little more.” Contact. The light flashes and the magnetic locks release, granting the doppelgänger access.
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fictionismyreality3 · 1 month
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Simon Introduces You
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Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, military stuff?, nsfw at the end because I’m a whore
Notes: somehow all of my drabbles end with a nsfw scene and I blame the worm in my brain that whispers sweet nothings to me in the night 😔🙏🏻
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He would’ve kept you all to himself if the rest of the team (Johnny) hadn’t kept begging to meet you.
Soap saw that Ghost seemed to be on his phone more and more during down time, his fingers flying across the screen as he responded to someone or something. Even Price was getting curious.
“Who ye textin’, mate?” Johnny slid up next to Simon, poking him with a sing-song tone to his voice and a shit eating grin on his face. “Fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost snapped as he tucked his phone away. “C’mon, big guy, who’s the wee lass who got your balls in a-” Soap was subsequently silenced as Simon put him in a headlock.
Will debate even asking you about whether or not you wanted to meet his team for like 3 weeks at least. What little you know about his work is enough for him, he doesn’t want you in that world.
He had been acting quieter than his usual quiet self. “Simon? Have I done something? You can tell me.” Coming to stand beside him, you reached up and pressed a kiss to his chin. “No, no, dove. I just..” He trailed off, looking out the window. “If it’s about the dishes, I know I said I-” You were silenced by a firm kiss. “Nothin’ like that, luvie. It’s.. the lads wanna meet ya.” Your ears perked up and you swatted at his chest. “Why didn’t you just say that, silly?”
You were given explicit access to visit Simon at the base. Everyone was oddly polite and even looked at you with a little confusion. The poor private escorting you around kept calling you Mrs. Riley, and you had no doubt that was Simon’s doing.
Finally, you were ushered out to a training room of some kind, where you spotted Simon with some other men. “There you are, sweetheart.” He rumbled, coming over to you and wrapping you in his arms. “Missed you, Si.” Gaz had to literally close Soap’s mouth as they watched Ghost, the Ghost, dipping his head to press a kiss on the neck of a pretty girl. “M’glad you’re here, luv.”
The introduction went well, aside from Soap’s teasing. They were all very respectful, even though they all had an air of lethality. Simon kept his arm around you the whole time, internally growing irritated with the jeers about his girl.
Simon’s massive, gloved hand took up nearly your entire face as he muffled your cries. “Wanted me t’show you off, huh?” He growled into your ear as he pounded you into a random briefing room desk. “Wan’ the whole base know your mine, dovie.” Your eyes rolling back only served to remind Simon why he’d never share you. “You’re mine, my- oh god, my fuckin’ girl.” You blushed as you waved goodbye with hickeys you didn’t show up with.
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.
He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.
(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)
He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.
He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.
He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.
Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.
Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.
Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.
He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.
So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.
He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.
What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?
He flirts with Death.
Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.
Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.
Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.
"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.
He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.
Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.
"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."
Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."
"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.
"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.
"Please don't call him that."
Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."
Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."
"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.
Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.
He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!
"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"
"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."
"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.
"I'm older than you"
There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."
"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.
While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.
"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"
"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"
Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.
"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.
The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.
"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"
Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.
It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?
Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.
Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.
Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.
Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.
Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months
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The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤
How it started :)
Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’
Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’
They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.
They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it  when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’ 
* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]
Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.
Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody
In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.
In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.
Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.
In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))
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Differences between the musical and the book
The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’
It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there. 
Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.
The Future?
What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.
There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.
Videos
Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))
Sizzle Reel 6min
Anathema singing The Perfect Place
Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound
Shadwell and Newt
Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀
Links
Webpage
Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)
How to support?
Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.
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Who is the hottest Yakuza and hottest civilian in your opinion?
is this a trap im shaking and crying in class rn please dont do this to me
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 1 month
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TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡
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A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀
~Fi 🐝
《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)
It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3
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John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.
I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.
Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with "Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"
Sneaky bastard.
He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.
In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.
"And what's this, doll, hm?" His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.
What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.
You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.
He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.
But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.
The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.
He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;
To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,
I love you.
You hold my heart and you will forever.
May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.
With all my love,
Mrs. Price
And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.
He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;
"John, baby, your back-"
"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."
He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.
Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.
He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.
He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.
He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.
His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.
♥︎
Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.
He's buzzing with excitment.
You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.
Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.
"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.
He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.
Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.
He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.
"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.
But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.
He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.
Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.
"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."
The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.
He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.
He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.
You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?
Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.
And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.
He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.
"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."
Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.
He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.
*(My wife)
♥︎
Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.
He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.
He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.
But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.
He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.
Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.
He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.
He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.
There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.
He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.
One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.
"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."
All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.
And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.
Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.
He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.
"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"
"Skilled hands, babe."
He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.
And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.
It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.
He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.
Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.
He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.
Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...
♥︎
Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.
There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.
He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-
he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?
Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.
That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.
He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.
That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.
Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.
But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.
He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.
He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.
Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.
He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.
The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.
His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.
He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.
It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.
Dear Husband,
We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.
Love,
Your wife
"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"
His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.
It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.
And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.
His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.
You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.
And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.
Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'
Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3
(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)
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xanaxspritz · 2 months
Text
𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 ♡
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚𝙖𝙠𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
cw: bf!megumi, college AU, cheating, breeding, possible impregnation, cowgirl
an: I put cw here for a reason, so if this work makes you uncomfortable in any sort of way or if you're a minor, please do not interact. this is a work of fiction and what i write here does not reflect my own values or experiences.
ʚ♡ɞ˚
megumi was a sweet boyfriend. he sent good morning texts daily, was always ready to drop everything if you were in need across campus, and even warmed up to pda because you liked it so much. you couldn't ask for anything better.
but his father was a different story. undeniably a dilf, you couldnt help but to stare at the way his arms bulged out of his compression shirt he always wore, hugging his torso just right to show off his abs. you couldnt but to take a peak at his lap when lounged in grey sweats, watching TV with his legs spread wide open, as if he was daring you to take a seat on top.
it didn't help that he would stare at you, every time you visited megumi at home. the heat of his eyes lingering a bit too long on you heated up something dark within you.
the tension between you and toji kept rising and rising, until one day you went to the fushiguro residence to retrieve something you left. you find toji in the kitchen, eating his lunch, his lips curling up into a smirk when he sees you.
"megumi ain't here you know" he says food still in his mouth.
"i know. just forgot something," you say nervously.
"was it this?" he takes out neon pink panties from his pocket. you are mortified.
"oh my god. im so sorry mr. fushiguro. i promise i'll never-"
"always knew you're a little slut. i can always tell with little girls like you"
"what? what do you mean?" you feel your face grow hotter.
"don't pretend like you aren't, " he chuckled. "always teasing me with those super short skirts barely covering your ass. i can even see your pushup bra through your shirt." you cross your arms instinctively. "i didn't think megumi had it in him," he continued. "but it seems like you've got him wrapped around your finger."
you were speechless. was mr. fushiguro actually hitting on you?
"tell me doll, is he good enough for you? is he fucking you right?"
by this point toji rose up from his chair, inching closer to you until youre back up on the kitchen counter. you can something on the side of your thigh.
"y-yes mr. fushiguro, he's a great boyfriend. i-i couldn't ask for any better," the wetness you can feel in your panties betrays your words.
"hm, is that so?" his hands wandering behind you to squeeze your plump ass. he snaps your panty band before feeling up between your legs.
"already wet f'me you dirty slut," leaning down closely to your, lips centimeters apart. "how naughty."
you crash your lips into his desperately, weeks of sexual tension building up to a make out session. his lips are surprisingly soft, and his breath is a comforting smell of tobacco. "call me toji," he nuzzles into your neck.
one thing turns into another and you found yourself in the master bedroom, bouncing on top of toji's huge cock.
"that good baby, keep riding me just like that," he whispers slapping and grabbing your ass. "i bet he doesn't fuck you like i do, ain't that right?"
"n-no mr. fushiguro!"
"i thought I told you to call me toji," he narrowed his eyes, picking up the pace faster.
your moans get louder as his thick, fat cock pounded you. his heavy balls slapped against your ass, you close your eyes in pure bliss, your tits bouncing in his face.
"i wonder what would happened if i filled you up with this daddy dick. think megumi would notice you pregnant with my baby, hm?"
the thought of toji cumming in you was exhilarating, you quickly nod your head yes, holding him tighter as he digs his fingers into your hips.
he laughs at your eagerness. "figured a little whore like you would love it. fuck- are you ready?"
you feel his warm cum filling you up as toji grunts. his load is thick and creamy, the excess dripping down your thighs.
he quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, plugging the cum inside you, keeping you nice and full.
"you're a good fuck," he sighs. "no wonder megumi keeps you around."
right, megumi. how would you even begin explaining to this to him? should you even tell him? the overwhelming guilt consumes your thoughts.
toji notices the visible worry you're sporting on your face. "hey doll, don't worry. I'm not gonna tell him," he reassures. "as long as you don't either. just keep coming back when he's not home so I can cum inside that pretty pussy again."
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greg-montgomery · 2 months
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Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader ♡ (boyfriend’s dad!hotch) - 18+ minors dni
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summary: part 2 to this.
your bf cheated on you? fuck his dad!
cw: uhmm a little bit of choking? age gap.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Put your phone away.”
Mark stared at his father for a moment without even lifting his head, and then continued to type on his phone.
“You’re being rude,” Aaron said.
“What’s your problem?”
“Your brother has been talking about this dinner all week. When Jack sits at the table, that thing better not be in your hands. Understood?”
“Understood,” Mark said, and placed the phone right next to his plate harsh enough to make Aaron wonder if the screen cracked.
Despite his annoyed appearance, Mark kept his promise and stayed engaged in the conversation with Jack. His little brother admired him and Aaron would do anything to protect his son’s feelings - even from someone who shared the same blood as him.
Still, Aaron had no complaints; Jack seemed happy and that was more than he could have asked for.
Sadly his feelings quickly changed, when after dinner he accidently overheard Mark talking on the phone. Aaron was a profiler, but any regular person could easily understand he was flirting with a girl. The only problem though, was that the name he had called said girl, was not yours.
--
Mark made his way outside the kitchen only to be stopped by his dad with a hand on his chest.
“Who were you talking to?”
“What the hell is wrong with you today?”
“Who were you talking to?” Aaron repeated, determined not to give him an easy way out.
Mark raised his eyebrow at him. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old to be asked questions like this by my dad?”
“Are you cheating on Y/N?”
“Why are you so fucking obsessed with her?” he snapped. “Why do you even care?”
“I didn’t raise a cheater.”
“No, you don’t give a fuck about me. It’s her you care about.” He smirked, and Aaron was worried his next words would be exactly what he was afraid of.
Mark confirmed his fears. “You think I don’t see the way you look at her? You wanna fuck my girlfriend and then be the one who teaches me about ethics?”
Aaron stood there frozen watching him walk away, too stunned to stop Mark from leaving without saying good night to his little brother.
--
Ethics.
His son was right. There was nothing ethical about the way he looked at you. There was nothing ethical about the way he wanted to steal you from Mark. And there was definitely nothing ethical about the way he had fucked his fist in the shower to the thought of you that same night you had asked for his help.
But Mark didn’t treat you right, he knew that. You deserved better and Aaron could be that for you.
He’d hold you in his arms, keep you safe from the rest of the world, let you know how beautiful and precious you were. Then he’d sit you in all fours and take you until you forgot your own name.
--
“This is so wrong,” you sighed, rolling your hips forward and the word ‘wrong’ went straight to his dick.
“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby,” he said staring at your lips and you leaned in to kiss his open mouth.
How did he get there? In any empty parking lot, and his son’s girlfriend riding his cock?
- -
It all started with a sweet “Mr. Hotchner?” when he picked up his phone in the middle of the night.
Then those two beautiful eyes he’d do anything for, looking at him like he was their hero.
“You said you’ll always be here. That’s why I called you,” you said when you were inside his car. Your cheeks were smudged with mascara and he wanted to murder the reason behind your tears. Only the reason was of course no other than his own son.
“You did well, sweetheart.” He cupped your cheek rubbing it with his thumb, and you nuzzled his hand. “You can trust me.”
“I do.”
It was impossible for him to keep his hands away or not to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.
“It’s over,” you sniffled. “This is the second time he cheats on me. I’ve had enough.”
“He never deserved you, honey. I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“Don’t be. You’re nothing like him,” you whispered. “How are you two even related?”
Your hand found his and your fingers naturally intertwined.
The kisses on your forehead soon turned into kisses on your cheeks and then on the corners of your mouth. He couldn’t stop and the way you were trembling against him was an invitation to touch you more.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you pulled his hair softly. He shouldn’t be doing that, but he’d rather take his last breath at that moment than let you go.
“I know. But I need you so bad,” you whined.
“Take off your panties and come to my lap.”
Aaron watched the fabric move all the way down your legs and pulled you into his lap. Before he had the chance to lift up your dress, you started rubbing yourself against him. He took your chin between his fingers and made you look at him. “Aren’t you a desperate little thing?”
“I wanted you to fuck me from the day we met.”
“I know.”
The feeling of your wet pussy against his slacks and the sound of your little moans drove him crazy. He bit your right nipple through your dress and you finally called him ‘Aaron’.
“Say my name again.”
“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron,” you moaned, moving desperately against him.
“Baby, I need to be inside you,” he said.
Once he was buried in you, his hands went on your hips, guiding you, showing you the pace he needed you at.
You were so good; such a good learner.
“This is so wrong.”
“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby.”
You leaned in to kiss him and Aaron took the opportunity to wrap his hand around your neck. He noticed you failing to bite back a loud moan.
“You like that, huh?”
“Mhm…”
“Want me to rub your little clit too? Will that make you cum faster, sweetie?”
“Fuck, yes.”
He did as promised, moving his free hand between your legs, touching you softly and slowly. He loved the tortured expression on your face.
“Faster, please,” you begged him.
“You’re so fucking desperate,” he moaned, and picked up his pace.
It didn’t take much longer for you to cum, and he followed right after you.
You didn’t leave his lap. Aaron wrapped his arms around you protectively and pulled you so close to him, it was hard to tell where his body ended and yours started.
“What now?” you whispered, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.
“Now you’re mine.”
tags : @hotchhner @sabage101 @yurfavmommy @mrs-ssa-hotch @justarandommom @m4gn3ziu @rosaliedepp @indigosamsblog
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