#but there have definitely been people my age to call me “Good Girl
Note
Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.
Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.
OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT
Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 2899
Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining
A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:
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The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.
And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.
But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.
Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.
That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.
You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.
Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.
You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.
“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.
“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.
“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.
Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.
“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.”
Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”
“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”
It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.
Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.
There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.
You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.
“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.
“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”
“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.
The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.
“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.
“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”
Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”
You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.
“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.
“What’d you do this weekend?”
“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”
Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”
“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.
You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.
“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”
Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.
You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.
“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.
Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”
You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.
God, you were down bad.
“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.
“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.
You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.
That was all you needed to hear.
— — —
You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.
Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.
You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.
After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.
As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.
“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”
It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.
Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”
You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.
The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.
“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”
Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.
Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.
Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.
As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.
“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”
“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.
You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.
But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.
No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#basketonthedoorstepofthefbi#criminal minds spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!baureader
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i hope you guys know that i'm not cool irl like i would say i'm a loser in the glee sense of the word
#but even glee characters had romantic drama in high school. that was not hs me. there was romance but no drama it was all in my head#when i rewatched glee for the first time when it hit netflix in 2019 it was a revelation like i truly am a glee loser#that was also the summer where i wanted to kill myself so i was feeling self-deprecative but it was an accurate observation#it's not like my middle school/high school experience was bad i was fine it wasn't traumatizing i had 3 to 6 friends at all times#my life was just boring. mind-numbingly so. it still is i guess but after i graduated and my life didn't get exciting overnight and i#actually became friendless in university (i still had/have my friends from hs but different cities) and my grandma died and i lived in a#place so tiny i called it a cell and i fell in love with a girl who didn't like me back i had a bit of a mid-life crisis at age 17 was#depressed and suicidal for a bit and when i recovered my still boring life felt good. and okay again. and it's been like three years now#but i'm really mostly fine my life is definitely still kinda boring but it got better i: am studying something i like no longer in my#unrequited love era live in a normal apartment and even have people to hang out with who aren't my friends from high school. crazy!#and i rewatch glee once a year#and like i say: brf slt
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no me importa | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; when a recent video exposes y/n and lewis’ relationship, other people think they can comment on their age gap, but at the end of the day y/n and lewis will always love each other
fc; cindy kimberly
warnings; age gap , mentions of 18+ themes
notes; loosely based off of mayor que yo by wisin & yandel and mayor que usted by natti natasha, daddy yankee, wisin & yandel :p , also reader is kinda implied as latina but it’s not important
me 🤝 writing smau’s abt dating older men
masterlist !
liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,020,047 others!
yourusername: made vegan alfredo for me n bae, definitely went into a food coma after
tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
lewishamilton: wifey material
yourusername: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🧎♀️🧎♀️
lewishamilton: it was amazing, love ❤️
yourusername: i put my blood sweat n tears into that alfredo, it better have been damn well amazing😕 ( thank u love💗💗)
username: so this is a confirmation?
username: girl did u not see the video, they were shoving their tongue down each others throat ???😦😦
username: cute but age gap is still icky to me 😕
username: tbh dating someone 13 years older than me is weird asf 😭
rosecoelovescoco: thank’s you’s
yourusername: ur welcome if u stop chasing lunita around 😕
lewishamilton: he is just a baby!
yourusername: so is my gatita lunita , she’s a scaredy cat , literally !!😞
username: she’s so pretty in everything what😞
username: 😍😍😍
lilymhe: cook for me next? 😏😏
yourusername: give me the time n place😉
username: ok but her learning how to make vegan pasta for lewis?? is so??? cute ????🥹🥹
username: he’s a grown man n 13 years older, he can cook for himself
username: it’s never that serious
liked by username, username, and 93,038 others!
f1upadates: Lewis Hamilton and Y/n L/n were both spotted at the British Fashion Awards after confirming their relationship. Thoughts on the new grid couple?
tagged; lewishamilton, yourusername
username: the fact she designed her outfit n did her hair and makeup 😩🙌
username: they’re such a good looking couple even if he’s like 13 years older than her 😭
username: i need her skincare routine!😩
username: be 13 years younger than your boyfriend helps!
username: she’s so desperate that she needs to date someone older than her? how embarrassing 💀💀
username: her parents must be so disappointed…
username: why? shes a model w her own fashion line dating a 7x (8x) world champion, they’ll be fine😭
username: y’all coming at her for dating someone older like you wouldn’t date your faves who are also older!! she’s just living the y/n life
username: REAL
yourusername posted to their story!
trans. for lyrics ; and i don’t care if i’m younger than you
liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 1,230,937 others!
lewishamilton: heard she likes señores [sirs]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: sir lewis hamilton 🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️
landonorris: i can’t take you calling him sir every 5 seconds pls stop i beg
georgerussell63: ‘yes, sir’ THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( lando )
landonorris: wait-
yourusername: sorry not sorry, unless you’re a sir you wouldn’t get it 😁
lewishamilton: what she said😁
yourusername: mi amor, te quiero 💗 [my love, i love you]
lewishamilton: i love you🩷
username: idk if i want him or her tbh🙇♀️🙇♀️
username: she’s so😍😍
username: i’d call him sir any day i get her fr
username: they’re such an attractive couple😩
username: how’d lewis bag her im being so fr
username: bc they’re both fine as fuck 😍
username: mis padres [my parents]
username: mami y papi fr [mommy & daddy]
liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,023,044 others!
yourusername: no me importa q usted sea mayor q yo. [i don’t care if you’re older than me]
tagged; lewishamilton
lewishamilton: wait, when did you take the second picture?
yourusername: baby i got a whole folder of those type of pictures, i take them every chance i get
username: SHARE W THE PUBLIC HELLO??
yourusername: y/n.jpg but it’s just pics of lewis’ back
lewishamilton: i love you❤️
yourusername: i love youuuu💗
username: the hand pics i’m going insane 😵💫🥴
username: ou that back pic, i’m going ferallll
lilymhe: omg bae stop posting pics of me 🙈🙈🙈
yourusername: ur too cute my bad😪
lewishamilton: stop stealing my gf
alex_albon: gf stealer !
username: the 3rd pic🥹🥹
username: yall need a third??
username: i can take them both ( not in a fight )
georgerussell63: if only he could look at me like he looked at u in the last picture 🕊️🕊️🕊️
lewishamilton: i will if you look like y/n
yourusername: my bad i’m too cute 😁
carmenmmundt: merc double dates now??
yourusername: uh duh, merc wags stick together 🫶
#f1 scenario#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1 scenarios#formula one social media au#formula one smau#formula one x reader#formula one scenarios#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton smau#lewis hamilton social media au
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Dad's Best Friend
August Walker x reader
Summary: August is your dad's best friend, and the two of you share a special afternoon.
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, unprotected sex (p in v), cussing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, pet names (princess, my girl, baby, good girl), Age Gap
Wordcount: 1.8k+
A/N: Reader is in her mid 20s and august is in his 40s.
You attended your father's 46th birthday celebration; this year, he went above and beyond. Instead of hosting the celebration at his home as he usually did, he chose to rent a banquet hall. The reason? You did not know.
Nonetheless, the décor and the extravagantly dressed attendees were stunning. Ladies, including you in the most exquisite dresses, and men dressed in their best suits
As you moved around the room, you introduced yourself to everyone and thanked them on your father's behalf.
That is when you noticed him, August. You did not think he might be here, but he definitely would be given that your father and him have been close friends for a long time.
In the past, even with other people around, you did not dare to approach him. You were not as nervous anymore because you were older and had more life experience.
"Hey August, remember me?" you said as you entered his field of vision. "No, I am sorry; I don't," he said after giving you a quick glance. "Alexander's daughter, I know I do not look the same," you said with a smile as you looked at him. August's eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock at what he was seeing.
Although he thought you were attractive the last time he saw you, he decided not to pursue you because you were the daughter of his close friend.
"Oh yes, I apologize. How are you doing?"
Compared to the earlier conversations you had that same night, this one between the two of you seemed to flow naturally.
August began to perceive you differently; you were not the same apprehensive college student he first met three years ago. That is what frightened him, because he did not care about the consequences of what he wanted to do to you and with you.
He eyed your movements more than he should’ve. Whether or not you noticed was irrelevant to him. How you occasionally licked your lips following each wine sip
He needed to leave your presence because of the unholy thoughts that started to run through his mind. "Please excuse me; I have to use the restroom." He smiled at you with his lips pursed.
You were upset in some ways and dreaded the conversation's end. However, you also departed to spend the rest of the evening with your parents.
When the cake was brought out for your father, everyone gathered. August put his arm around your father and shouted, "Happy birthday!" clearly drunk.
When your father went to blow out the candles, August looked at you with a lustful glare that made you squeeze your thighs together.
He noticed that, and it made his ego soar knowing he was making you feel that way.
You arrived at your parent's house the following morning. "Hello?" As there was nobody in sight when you went to look around, you made the decision to sit and wait for them.
After 30 minutes, you heard the door open. "Mom? Dad?” you called out.
"Unfortunately, no, I came by to say goodbye to your father," August said as he appeared.
“Oh, my parents' are out. I’m not sure when they’ll be back.” You looked to the couch and said, “If you like, you could sit and wait with me.”
He didn’t second-guess his choice.
He took a seat and began to man spread.
On a chair your parents had in the living room, you sat across from him.
Until he spoke, the two of you sat in quiet comfort. “If I have not already said so, you looked stunning last night.”
“Thank you; what I wore last night wasn’t my first choice, nor was the dress my favorite.” August stayed quiet for a moment, taking you in. He rubbed his jaw. "Well, still, you looked stunning. I'm sure you look stunning in anything you wear"
What he said shocked you, you hadn't expected to hear that from him.
You eyed him just as he did with you, and you realized that you hadn't seen someone look so good with a beard; you wanted to know how it would feel against your pussy while giving you head.
You were 99% sure it would feel like heaven.
Acting on instinct, you walked over to the couch and climbed onto his lap. He leaned his head back to look up at you with a smirk. “And what are you doing, princess?” You grabbed his jaw and kissed him. His lips were soft, moving elegantly against yours.
You felt his hardened cock underneath his slacks, and you started to rub yourself against his cock.
He grabbed the back of your neck, turning the soft kiss into a harsh one.
Holding onto you tightly, he turned you on your back. He started to kiss down your neck, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.
"Let's get your shirt off." He threw your shirt off and started kissing between your breasts. You leaned up for a moment to unclasp your bra. As soon as it was off, he grabbed each one, kissing and sucking your nipples and moaning around them.
"Fuck, you have the most perfect tits."
Moans were filling up the silence in the house.
You helped him undo your pants, and he smacked your thighs for you to open them wider.
"You're drenched for me already, princess." He moved your panties over and slid two of his fingers between your folds before removing them and tasting you.
He held a smirk on his face as he lowered himself. He ripped your panties, and you felt his breath over your bare pussy. "Please August"
"Tell me what you want, princess, and I'll give it to you."
You looked at him with pleading eyes and said, "Please lick my pussy; I need it."
He opened up your folds with his fingers and started sucking on your clit, he removed his mouth, and you whined. You leaned up to look at him; he spat down on your pussy and started to rub your clit. "Oh, shit" you moaned loudly.
You watched as he relentlessly sucked and licked your pussy repeatedly.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your pussy tasted so sweet. "Does my girl want my fingers?" You couldn't get your words out; you nodded quickly.
"Give me your words."
"Yes, I want your fingers."
He plunged his fingers into you, and he watched as you threw your head back.
You could feel yourself on the verge of an orgasm. "I- I'm going to come." You held on to his hair as you grinded your pussy on his face.
Your moans became louder, and your thighs started to shake. He held a tight grip on them. Your eyes were shut tightly, and you saw spots behind them as you came on his face.
You were right; his beard felt fantastic against your pussy.
You watched him take off his shirt and then his slacks. He pulled out his enlarged cock, which was bigger than you anticipated.
"Open your mouth." You did as told; he looked at you, then his cock. "You know what to do, baby."
You kissed his head and then licked around his tip before fully taking his cock into your mouth. You began to hallow your cheeks as he pushed his cock down your throat. "God, baby, your mouth is a talent."
Tears started to brim in your eyes. "My girl looks gorgeous with my cock down her throat. Shit, I'm going to fucking cum." He spurted down your throat, and you proudly swallowed his load.
"I need to feel your pussy around my cock; I can't wait a moment longer."
He tapped his cock on your pussy, and moved between your folds. Your wetness spread over him before he delved into you. Your mouth parted with a moan. "Oh god, August."
"That's right, baby. Taking my dick so well. You're such a good girl for me."
He slowly built up a pace that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Your pussy belongs to me now, do you understand?" He grunted out, "I've been thinking of this since last night, wondering how you feel around my cock."
He gave your face a little slap and grabbed your jaw. "Answer me."
"Yes, my pussy belongs to you."
Both of your moans were mixing together with the sound of slapping skin, and he was in awe at how your tits were bouncing up and down. He leaned down and licked around one of your nipples while pinching the other one.
He moved his lips upward and began to massage his tongue with yours. You moaned into the intense kiss you were sharing.
He grabbed one of your legs, lifting it onto his shoulder, kissing the side of your ankle, and holding onto your hips. This position allowed him to reach deeper. "August, baby, I'm going to come."
"Yeah, going to come all over my cock? Just like a good girl, I know you are."
He pulled you closer to him and increased his pace; your nails were scratching on his back. His grunts were sounds of pleasure and pain.
"Look at me; I want to see your pretty face while you come all over, my cock princess."
Your brows furrowed, and you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach while your thighs began to shake.
"Oh, oh yes."
August was close to your face, your lips brushing against one another.
"I'm going to fill up your sweet pussy; make you full of me, baby."
"Yes, please"
He kissed you hard before he moaned out, filling you with his cum. August thrusted inside you a few more times to get every drop of him into you.
August removed his cock, and at the same time, you heard a car pulling into the driveway.
"Shit!"
In a hurry, you and August got dressed.
Your parents walked through the door. "y/n, where are you, sweetie?"
"I'm in the living room." You smiled at her once you saw her. She looked over at August, not expecting to see him. "August, what are you doing here?" He responded kindly to her, "I was coming to say goodbye to my best man, of course."
Your mother told him where your father was, and afterward, she walked to you. "Are you okay? you're flustered."
"Yes, of course I'm okay. Just excited to spend my last night with both you and Dad."
Your mother, being the sweetest person on the planet, of course, believed your lie.
"y/n come say bye to August."
You walked to him, standing in front of the door. "It was so nice seeing you again. It was a pleasure." The smile you held was genuine.
"No, trust me, the pleasure was all mine." August brought you in for a hug and whispered in your ear.
"You will keep my cum in you for the rest of the day. If you don't, I will find out. I'll be seeing you love." He gave you a kiss on your cheek before bidding your parents goodbye for the last time.
#henry cavill#first post#henry cavill smut#smutty#henry cavill x reader#august walker#august#august walker x reader#august walker smut#august walker x you#august walker fanfiction#henry cavill characters#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction
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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)
When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne.
No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear.
His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths.
Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.
Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who—
Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave.
But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help.
They most certainly sound like they do.
With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much.
“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops.
Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath.
“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well. “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.”
There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.
What the fuck is happening?
He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision.
And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?
Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!”
He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one.
Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared.
It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.
But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.
His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!
“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."
He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting.
Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?”
But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now.
He doesn’t.
Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should—
“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react.
A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.”
Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort.
Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington.
Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now.
Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.
Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time.
He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.
“Munson?”
Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie!
“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away.
Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way.
“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign.
Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he—
The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts.
“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.
“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.”
A beat. “Everywhere.”
Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.”
He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?”
“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“
He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?
Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech.
“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.
What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?
What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.
Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what.
“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”
Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now.
“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”
Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.
“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.
And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.”
Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die.
And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake.
“Hagan did that to you?”
Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”
Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?”
Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.”
Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.”
And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?”
“What?”
There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?”
Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more.
“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.”
Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.
“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.”
“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over.
And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.
He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this.
He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.
But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly.
"Where‘re we going?"
And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.
"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.
"Safe?"
"Safe."
"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."
If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.
(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#this is somewhere between s3 and s4 obviously#but also i just re-read the op post and realised that this is nothing like what they wished for so uh. sorry? never trust me with prompts y#who did this to you#hurt steve#steve harrington whump#pre-steddie#sorry op maybe i'll try again and get it right this time but uh. yeah#dio words
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Love love love your writing Jade, I must have reread everything a dozen times!
For a dad!character request, what would you think of Single father Remus signing up to chaperone a school event or field trip? Maybe he meets the newest teacher, who happens to be his exact idea of the perfect person for him…
(Lots of love<3)
“Don’t get– forget your coat, dad.”
Remus grabs his coat from the passenger seat with a self-deprecating sigh. “I’m s’posed to remember things for you, Lia.”
Cordelia smiles up at him, her shiny coat and boots already taking on rain. “Okay, so ‘member my lunch, then.”
Remus turns back to the passenger seat to grab her packed lunch from the footwell. “Thank you.”
Remus is the kind of parent who writes a list every week, budgeting to the penny and laying out uniforms the night before, but he’s off-kilter today. “I wish your teacher could’ve given me some warning.”
“She’s new, dad. You have to be nice for new people, ‘cos they don’t know– she’s not used to it.”
Remus locks the car door, already cold to the bone and wishing they could’ve called off sick. He offers Cordelia her lunchbox (which isn’t a box at all, but a padded fabric zip up pouch in fashion with the rest of the girls her age), and tugs on his jacket. It’s not his, it belonged to Sirius a few years ago, but it got left in his wardrobe somehow and he’s been wearing it since.
“Okay, lovely girl, what’s the rules for today?” he asks, taking her hand.
“To be good.”
“Yeah, and what next?”
“To stay with my buddy.”
“Yes, and what’s the last one?”
She beams at him and waves their joined hands. “To have fun!”
Remus doesn’t think he’ll be having much of it. He isn’t on the PTA, he had no idea parents even went on these trips, but they’re short-staffed at Cordelia’s school lately and now the year two teacher is off sick, and the phone call was a shock. He didn’t have the wherewithal to say no.
Cordelia’s class are waiting outside of the school gates near a big red and green bus. Remus is the only parent. Why is he the only parent? There are around thirty kids and only two teachers, the newest of which stands at the front, your hands behind your back and a massive smile on your lips despite the bad weather.
You’re very pretty, Remus has already thought before, and you dress sweetly, happy colours and cute skirts and pants with flowers and hearts and stars. You’re reaching up into the sky as you say, “So they have lots of energy to grow big and tall like us!”
Most of the kids are listening aptly, though pods of them chatter or fight.
You see Remus quickly and dodge around the children to meet him. “Mr. Lupin! Hello, hi Lia. I have a packet for you.”
He smiles awkwardly. “Right.” What’s a packet? He looks down at Cordelia but she’s straining against his hand, desperate to go and talk to her friends. “You can go, lovely. I’ll be right here.”
“Can I sit with you on the bus?” she asks.
He’d definitely prefer it. “Whatever you want to do. Want me to have your lunchbox?”
“No, that’s okay!” She leans up for a kiss. Remus suddenly wonders if he’s any good at being a parent, knowing you’re watching, but he leans down for a kiss and gives her a quick pat on the back. “Love you.”
“Love you.” He clears his throat and stands up. “The packet?”
You’re looking at him funny.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you stay, still smiling. He’s ninety nine percent sure you aren’t making fun.
You load the children onto the bus and have him stand at the front with you, squished together in the aisle. “This is Lia’s dad, Mr. Lupin. Can everyone say hi?” He’s sure he’s beet red. “He’s our chaperone today. You listen to him just like you’d listen to me or Mrs. Davies. If Mr. Lupin tells you to stop talking, to stop running, anything at all, you listen. But today is about having fun and seeing all the flowers and bugs, so let’s have lots of fun!” You touch his elbow gently. He smiles.
Lia forgets that she wanted to sit with Remus by that time, and you end up hip to hip in the front row. The children are immensely loud, and Mrs. Davies has to constantly ask them to be quiet, but it’s not as though Remus would notice; when he woke up that morning he had no idea he’d be doing this, his schoolyard crush for you feels as though it’s written over his forehead, and he’s more nervous than he’s felt in years.
Remus is cool. He’s the cool friend, the quiet, collected one, who doesn’t stutter nor falter, but he finds it harder to be that way with you when you’ve seen him pick Cordelia up from the yard and kiss every inch of her face and tell her in baby talk that he missed her so so much.
“I got you something.”
Cool, Remus says to himself. I’m cool.
You unveil an informational packet and a small purple box. “That’s just the stuff I told you on the phone this morning,” you say, “and some emergency stuff you can read before we get there. God forbid something happen, but if it does, you aren’t liable. I, however, will get in lots of trouble.” You offer the box. Even your hands are cute.
It’s a rough day. The kids are rowdy, the weather is wet. Lia’s friend Kory keeps stepping in puddles and Lia herself won’t leave Remus alone. She wants to eat lunch in his lap and half gets her way, the two of them holding hands, Remus a big head surrounded by little girls.
“What’s that?” she asks in a whisper.
“This?” He knocks the purple box with his knuckle. “This was from Miss L/N.” He opens the plastic lid to show her the treasure inside, a caramel donut with chocolate shavings. It looks expensive and delicious. “Should we share?” he whispers back.
“Yes, please.”
Remus breaks it in half, and Lia breaks her half into half again to share with Kory. He feels eyes on his face and looks up to find you watching him with a soft look, but you promptly flatten it and look down. You pick at your lunch, and choke when someone asks you if you’re alright.
Oh, he thinks, giving Lia’s back a quick rub. Chaperoning really isn’t so bad.
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#marauders era#remus x reader#remus x you#marauders#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#marauders x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders
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Push and Pull
Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader
Summary:
While playing games with Viper, Emily (accidentally) plays on your attraction to her - something you had been trying to hide since you started with the BAU. The results end up being more than interesting.
Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension.
Word Count: 2,800 words
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
Warnings: smut; this is set during Season 4, Episode 9 (52 Pickup) and there is a lot of references to the episode in this, but I think you could read this without having seen the episode; mentions of typically sexist practices - in the form of ‘pickup artistry’: the reader character replaces Jordan Todd on the team; there is an age gap between Emily and the reader - Emily is older and the reader character is younger; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mention of the reader wearing a dress and makeup; the reader has sexual fantasies about Emily - which include: pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, semi public sex, being called 'naughty girl’; most of the sex acts are in fantasies (this fic is mostly tension and build up and sexually adjacent situations rather than actual sex); masturbation (the reader masturbates); mentions of masturbation being unsatisfying or not feeling 'as good’ as having sex with the desired partner; caught masturbating - Emily walks in on the reader; Emily refers to herself as 'Mama’ (once); rough kissing, Emily gropes the reader through clothing, very light choking (from Emily toward the reader) (Emily puts her hand on the reader’s neck and applies pressure for a few seconds to get her attention), Emily calls the reader 'needy little thing’ (in this case the word 'little’ is meant to be condescending and not a description of size); undertones of degradation kink; I believe that is everything.
A/N: This was based on a request, and the original request mentioned fake dating (and I would love to do that trope with Emily), but I couldn’t stop thinking about how stunning and gorgeous Emily looks in this episode, and I thought it would be interesting to use it. Also the idea of a man basing his pickup techniques on women needing male validation when - hey, what kind of women wouldn’t want or need male validation? A woman who is obsessed with the other gorgeous woman at the table. It was such a fun scenario to write about. I definitely wanna write more Emily fics in the future.
...
At first, you really weren’t looking forward to it.
Though it seemed fun in concept - having an excuse to dress up and go out to a club while on the job - Emily assured you that it was going to be miserable.
The way Emily talked about the man - Viper. She almost made him sound worse than some of the confirmed killers you had dealt with during your short time at the BAU. She said that he was the scum of the earth, a waste of oxygen, that made her feel dirty just by giving her a weird look. She joked that she was ‘dragging you along’ because she didn’t want to suffer alone (that, and she needed backup, in case the guy truly was dangerous).
From the way she talked about it, you thought the night was going to be miserable.
You certainly didn’t expect it to be one of the best nights of your life.
Viper frequented bars and nightclubs. So of course, nightclub appropriate attire was required. You rushed to a store and grabbed the first tight dress you could find (a red one with spaghetti straps that would pair well with a pair of modest black heels you already had in your bag for the job). You didn’t expect to come back and see Emily getting changed into a clingy black dress that fit her like sin, her makeup subtle but smokey.
You had been actively suppressing your attraction to her, a gorgeous older woman, since you had joined the BAU a month ago. You told yourself that you could keep your lustful feelings under control because you would only be there temporarily, to replace their usual media liaison - who was on maternity leave. But seeing her dressed up like this, it certainly didn’t help with that suppression.
Things only got worse when you got to the club and Viper descended upon the two of you. (You quietly whispered to Emily that his name should have been Vulture and the soft laughter she let out had your insides fluttering.)
Turns out, Emily had been paying extra attention to the ‘push and pull’ technique that Reid had talked about. And even though you knew that it was just in the name of messing with the cocky man - you fell hook, line, and sinker for Emily’s combatants of this technique.
See, rather than letting him push and pull the two of you - compliment one of you and leave the other one reeling for validation, Emily complimented you herself. She never let Viper leave room for you to need that validation. Not that you would ever need it from someone like him. But she certainly threw him off with this tactic.
She supported you, focused far more of her attention on you than she did on him. The two of you never fell to the traditional ‘women in constant competition’ market that his techniques were built on. If she put far more of her focus on you and actively ignored him (or even not-so-subtly insulted him), then what could he do?
Women not vying for his attention? It was a curveball for the ages.
Clearly, he had no backup plan. He was struggling to keep up.
If he called your dress cheap, Emily said how well the fabric complimented your amazing body. If he said your mascara was clumpy and poorly done, Emily said your eyes were naturally beautiful and shined bright without makeup anyway.
The more annoyed it seemed to make him, the more she fawned over you.
And it left you staring at her all night. Captivated by her beauty, her silky voice. You barely even knew that he was there as she laughed at him, engaged in his silly games, taunted him.
By the time you left the club, you were almost high on the affection Emily had given you.
The rest seemed to go by in a blur. The real killer was caught at a different club, and the team retired back to their hotel to get some rest before returning home. As you and Emily walked back to your shared room, you were still laughing and joking about the pathetic man who somehow made his living off of scamming men more pathetic than him.
“And did - did you see the look on his face when I said ‘you probably go home alone, don’t you?�� - Like he - he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t falling for his BS,” Emily said, stuttering through her words as hardy laughter disrupted her speech.
“It’s like he’s never met a confident woman in his life.” You replied, a delicate chuckle in your voice.
It was a subtle compliment toward Emily, admiring her confidence in how well she had dealt with the scummy, overly cocky man.
“No, not quite.” Emily sighed, using the keycard to open the hotel room door.
Your insides fluttered even more when she held the door open for you. You couldn’t help but enjoy the domestic feeling behind it as you brushed past her body in order to get inside.
Of course, she wasn’t even paying attention to the dreamy, starstruck look on your face as she continued speaking.
“He’s never approached a confident woman before.” She quickly corrected, letting the door fall shut and click locked behind her. “He’s never approached a woman he thought he couldn’t con.”
“And for some reason he dared you to ‘meet him on his turf’?” You questioned, repeating the words she had told you, when ranting about the previous interaction she had with the awful man. “You, of all people?”
You had to wonder what about Emily Prentiss would come off as even slightly insecure or - what about her said that she would fall for his stupid tricks. In your opinion, it was like trying to outrun a cheetah using a tricycle.
“Yeah, I guess he was counting on me being drunk and blinded by all his guyliner.” Emily joked, tossing her bag down onto one of the twin beds.
You collapsed down onto the other bed with intense laughter. The joke itself was funny, but her delivery, her confidence, and her smile caused a spark through you that forced you to laugh off the tension before you jumped her bones. You had to be professional. You had to keep reminding yourself of that.
“I call the bathroom first.” She announced. “I really need a shower after being drowned in Drakkar Noir all night.”
You had to ignore the dryness in your throat and the heat between your thighs at the thought of her in the shower. Previously, it was something your mind could have easily glossed over, but after she spent the night fawning over you and capturing your attention completely, it was like you were a horny teenager again. Now all you could think about was her completely naked, droplets of hot water rolling across her skin, surrounded by steam.
You had to pull yourself together. You had to be professional, for fuck’s sake.
“But of course.” You told her, giving a smile and a nod. You motioned toward the bathroom, as if presenting it to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “I’ll probably just shower in the morning.”
Emily nodded in acknowledgement of this, and there was no further conversation.
This left your mind reeling, your body entirely tense and hyper aware of her every movement as she got ready. You had to busy yourself with grabbing your pajamas out of your own bag - an oversized X-Files tee shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton shorts - while she grabbed her toiletries bag and went into the bathroom.
The water turned on and you tried your hardest not to think about her undressing and stepping under the stream as you changed into your pjs. You tried your hardest not to think about her tight, fit body relaxing under the steam. You tried your hardest not to think about soft bubbles rolling across her soft, pale skin.
Clearly, you were failing. Failing not to think about her. Failing miserably when it came to suppressing your attraction for her.
By the time you climbed into bed, there was a hard, hot pain between your thighs.
You wanted so badly to simply roll over and go to sleep. You wanted to ignore it. But a very large part of you worried that if you didn’t ‘take care’ of that nagging arousal, then you wouldn’t be able to sleep. And if you didn’t sleep and you rolled into the next day with this attraction to Emily still at the forefront of your mind - then you wouldn’t be able to act normal around her for the travel day home tomorrow. You might say or do something stupid.
You had to do something.
The longer you laid there in bed, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, feeling your pussy throbbing between them - thinking about Emily’s head being trapped between your legs - the more it bothered you.
You had some time while she was in the shower, right? You could be quick. Of course you could. And if you heard the water turn off, you would simply stop.
Before any true logic could catch up between your ears, a hand was sneaking below the waistband of your shorts. That hand easily went inside your underwear and found a natural place on your throbbing clit. You dipped down into your wetness (leaking out of you abundantly from how much you had been thinking about Emily) and slicked up the hot button before you began rubbing it in hard circles. You were determined to cum quickly and be done with it.
You closed your eyes and tiled your head back against the pillow, your mind drifting back to her once again. You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she looked in that ruby lipstick. All night, you had felt jealous of the glass when she brought her drink up to her lips.
You imagined her approaching you at a bar.
You would be out by yourself, and she would see you from across the room. So entirely confident, she would see you and in a moment, know that she could have you.
She would come up behind you, whisper sweetly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked. She would smirk at your initial shyness when you giggled at the compliment. She would tell you that she couldn’t wait to get you home - that she wanted you and she wanted you now.
So she would pull you into a bathroom, pinning you against a counter. And then she would shove her hand under your dress, only to find that you weren’t wearing any panties, just for her. She would scold you, call you a naughty girl. Her voice so sweet and condescending, only making you wetter. And then she would shove her fingers into your slick cunt and shove her other hand over your mouth, trying in vain to keep your whorish moans from being heard as you begged for her.
“Emily, please,” You couldn’t stop the faint, needy moan that escaped you as you got lost in the fantasy.
Of course, so lost in it, that you didn’t hear the shower turning off.
Your pussy ached, leaking freely into your underwear, and your clit throbbed, emanating a needy pain out through your pelvis. You worked your fingers in more frantic circles, doubling down. Your hips canted up off the bed, knocking the covers off you slightly as dull pleasure radiated out across your hips.
(Dull compared to what Emily would have given you, you were sure.)
Even if it was unsatisfactory, you were close.
“Emily-!” You cried out desperately, right on the edge of orgasm.
“Hey, do you have some makeup remover I can borrow? I forgot-”
Shock cascaded through your system and you instantly stilled your movements. This caused your orgasm to become a low hum in your pelvis once again as your eyes shot open in disbelief.
Your gaze locked onto Emily where she stood in the bathroom doorway. Your insides were still with shock - embarrassment or any other emotion hadn’t even caught up yet.
Steam ploomed around her and she was forced to hold up the hotel towel with one hand as it couldn’t fully wrap around her body, leaving a sliver of her skin exposed from her armpit to her knee - the curve of her breast, her waist, and her hip on full display. With her hair soaked and her bangs slicked back from her face, and true to what she had said, her makeup still on but slightly smudged from the shower - she looked utterly delicious.
She was like a pornographic dream, live in front of you.
You let out a quiet whimper at the sight.
It was only then that your brain began to unfreeze from the shock, and you realized how truly incriminating you looked. The covers pooled around your thighs, your hand quite visibly inside your shorts, your face contorted with pleasure as your eyes scanned over her half naked body. You rushed to rip your hand out of your underwear - and you realized the sight wasn’t much better as your fingers glistened in the light.
Emily’s eyes moved from your glistening fingers to your stiff, nervous body, your thighs still parted (as it would be too uncomfortable to clamp them down on your wet underwear and aching cunt). She smirked at you. She looked at you with the same devious, cocky expression that Viper had started out the night with - before she had taken him down notch by notch.
The look alone caused any apology to be stuck in your throat. You waited for her to speak before you made any moves.
“What were you thinking about?” She asked, her voice breathy, soft, yet entirely commanding.
In that moment, caught in the smoldering gate of her eyes, you could find nothing but honesty pounding inside of your chest.
“You.” You whined quietly.
Emily chuckled gently.
Your stomach twisted with embarrassment for the split second that you thought she might be laughing at you. But then you realized that it was, in fact, a sound of satisfaction.
That realization hit you when she dropped the towel completely. She stood in front of you proudly, showing off all of her naked, wet glory. Her dark nipples pebbling in the air, the damp sheen of water making her skin glow like a dewy goddess. Quite obviously, she wanted you to look.
Your eyes traced a few thick droplets of water as they escaped her hair and ran down her body. You became absolutely mesmerized by the way gravity pulled the water over her collarbones, the teardrop curve of her breasts, the plushness of her stomach, across her pelvis, down her thighs. You imagined yourself tracing over those exact lines with your tongue.
“Come to me.”
Her silken voice snapped you out of your trance. Your eyes shot back up to her face once again, and in the sluggish moment that it took the words to get to your brain, she added something onto the command that absolutely knocked the wind out of you.
“Come on. Come to Mama.”
Her calling herself that name, so self assured, so certain - the phrase almost had you down on all fours, crawling to her like a dog.
But instead, you scrambled to get upright and practically ran across the room to her on shaking legs. Entirely eager, you stood in front of her and leaned in to press your mouth against hers. Naturally, you expected that the interaction would start with a kiss.
But she quickly reached up and stopped you with a hand on the side of your neck. You let out a harsh whimper of disappointment - one that quickly turned into a moan when she pressed her thumb into your windpipe with just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy.
She was showing you who was in charge.
“Not so fast,” She told you, her breath cascading against your lips now.
Although she was completely naked and you were clothed, it was very apparent that she was the one in complete control.
“Tell me how badly you want it.” She ordered, her voice low and almost gentle - a soft domineering that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up straight.
“I want it so badly,” You easily replied, your voice intensely needy. “I need it. I need you, Em.”
Emily reached up with her other hand and - with no warning - harshly gripped your pussy through your underwear and shorts. This caused sharp shocks of arousal to flow through you, making you moan out weakly. It was a dizzying euphoria that had you bucking into her hand. You almost came from that single touch alone.
“Needy little thing.” She purred. “I am gonna have so much fun with you.”
This was her last verbal sentiment before she pulled you forward by that hand on your neck and silenced any further moans with a bruising kiss.
...
A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoyed the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written here. And if you like my writing style, please check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists for other fandoms.
#sundrop writes#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss smut#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom
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You wake because a shifting balance of weight on your bed has caused your mattress to shake. For a moment you think it must be Christmas morning—that'll be your little brother, jumping on your bed to wake you up—but your room is still dark, and the clock on your bedside table reads 12:00 exactly. You squint at the person sitting on your bed. Definitely too old to be your brother...maybe your dad? But no, this person's frame is too wide, too bulky. The figure leans forward, and it suddenly occurs to you to be afraid, but all he does is pull the chain on your bedside lamp.
The man in your room is Santa Claus.
It doesn't occur to you to think this is a man dressed as Santa. One of your classmates might; you know most people your age don't believe in him, and you've learned to hide your own belief, lest you embarrass yourself, but you've never stopped believing privately. You know this man is Santa Claus in the same way you've always known Santa Claus was real: it's a feeling in your heart, a knowledge that you are loved, no matter what. You get that same feeling from this man.
"Santa?"
"Little Susie Summers," he says, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes. "It's so wonderful to finally see you in person. You know you're one of my favorites?"
Your eyes widen. "Really?"
He nods. "I mean it. You've kept me in your heart all these years, long after most children abandon me. I've so loved watching you grow into this beautiful, confident woman I see before me." His voice deep and warm and smooth, like hot chocolate. His eyes glitter behind half-moon glasses, and his enormous white mustache only accentuates his fatherly smile.
"I always knew you were real," you say, breathlessly, eager to impress. "Even when everyone called me names, I kept believing. I always stayed on my best behavior for you."
"I know you did," he says. "I have your list right here." Seemingly from nowhere, he produces a length of rolled up parchment, which he begins to unfurl as he reads. "All those times you helped young Cristopher with his homework, even when you wanted to go out with your friends...the way you check in on old Mrs. Rasherton every week...you're a real paragon of your community."
Your chest swells with pride. You'd do those things anyway, of course; goodness is its own reward. But it feels so wonderful to have your good deeds recognized by this man you so idolize.
"Of course, you've had some encounters with the naughty list, too. What child doesn't? That time at camp, for instance, when you allowed Trent Lipski to touch you under your underwear?"
You can feel your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Santa. I tried to be extra good to make up for it."
"Or those times in the bathtub, when you put your private parts under the faucet?"
You look away. You can't stand the disappointment in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Santa."
You feel his hand on your cheek, gently pulling your gaze back to meet his. "Don't worry, Susie. No one can be perfectly good all the time, and your good deeds have vastly outweighed the bad. You are a good girl, Susie Summers, and that's why I'm here."
"Really?"
"Yes, my dear girl. You see, you're eighteen now and—"
"Almost eighteen," you say helpfully. Your birthday is January 7th.
"Close enough," he says. "You're growing into a woman, which means this is the last year I'll be able to bring you presents."
This comes as a surprise. You always known Santa Claus brought presents to children, but it never quite occurred to you that that meant he didn't bring presents to adults. "You mean...you'll never come here for me again?"
"I'm afraid so," he says sadly. "This will have to be goodbye. But because you've been such a good girl all these years, I've brought you one final parting gift, in addition to the ones below the tree downstairs."
"Really? What is it?"
His hand is on your thigh, caressing you gently. "You've been so good for me, Susie," he says. "I want to make you feel good. I want you to be extra good for me, one last time." His other hand is on your stomach now, furry white glove slipping under your sleep shirt. You're starting to be unsure if you want this gift, but you know it's rude to act ungrateful. "Can you be good for me, Susie?"
You nod nervously.
Slowly, one finger at a time, Santa slips the gloves off his hands. The skin underneath is like aged leather, wrinkly and soft. You gasp when he lifts up your shirt. "Look at this," he says, fondling your nipples. "Already so hard. I knew you had a naughty side to you."
No. You can't. You push his hands away, gently as you can. "I'm sorry Santa, I'm flattered, really, but I can't—"
Santa makes a clicking sound with his tongue, and all of a sudden your hands are being yanked back, toward the headboard. Some kind of cuffs clamp around your wrists, holding your arms far away from Santa's creeping, explorative hands. You look to your left and right, and see that they're not cuffs at all, but arms; thin, sinewy arms attached to a pair of thin, sinewy people no bigger than your forearm. They stare at you with large, unblinking eyes, and grin with mouths full of pointy teeth. They're strong, in spite of their size. You struggle against them with all your might, but neither seems remotely phased.
"You're a lucky girl, Susie," he says, playfully circling your areola with his thumb. "Most boys and girls never get to see a genuine Christmas elf. Meet Pepper and Ginger, two of my most trusted lieutenants. I could never do my job without their help."
The elf called Ginger—you can tell which is which because they wear name tags reading G. BREAD and P. MINT—pins your hand to the bed and sits on your wrist. She closes her eyes and begins grinding against the nub of your wrist bone.
Santa chuckles. "Of course, I make sure they get to enjoy themselves. I think that's the hallmark of any good boss, don't you?" He bends down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking and nibbling and groping at your other breast while he does it. You're afraid, but it feels kind of good, too. And you know Santa has your best interests at heart...doesn't he? When he comes up for air, Santa sees the tears running down your cheeks. "Oh, hush now, my dear, don't cry." He lays a tender hand on your face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "I promise I'll be gentle with you. I'll make you feel good." He gets up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his red pants to reveal white thermal underwear. This he unbuttons, and out comes...
You've seen a penis once before. Earlier this year, Daryl Dennis let you touch his at a party. You held it in your hand and stroked it up and down, delighting in the way he moaned and kissed you and told you how good it felt. When he came on your hand it snapped you out of whatever madness had taken you over, and you fled the room to wash it off. You hated yourself for weeks after that, tried to work extra hard to earn your place on the good list.
Suffice it to say, Santa's cock is about three times the size as the only other cock you've ever seen. It stands up so stiff that it actually touches his overhanging belly, and defined veins pulse up and down its length. He smiles when he sees you looking at it. "You came so close to letting Mr. Dennis be the first cock you ever felt inside you. I wish you could stay pure forever, but you're becoming a woman now. You should at least know what a real cock is like, so you have something to compare against."
He hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls off your pajama bottoms and you panties all in one go. You're too afraid to fight back; those elves' teeth are sharp, and besides, you've spent so long trying to stay off the naughty list. A good girl would lie back and take it. You are a good girl. You are a good girl.
Santa's head is between your legs now. He's kissing your thighs, sniffing deeply, running his tongue along the outside edges of your crotch. One hand strokes his cock, and you can see he speeds up when his nose gets close to your pussy. "You know, Susie, I've found in all my years of life that the sweetest girls have the sweetest cunts. Did you know that?"
You shake your head.
"It's true. And you just might be the sweetest girl I've ever seen. So you can imagine how eager I've been to get a taste of this perfect, beautiful cunt. Let's get your juices flowing, shall we?" You gasp as his leathery fingers pinch the hood of your clitoris and pull it back, and a sound you didn't expect escapes your lips when his wet, warm tongue flicks across your exposed clit. He starts to trace slow, steady circles around it, taking his time, letting the desire build until your clit is throbbing with need. His moustache tickles your pubis as he closes his lips around your clit and begins sucking, first in long, slow pulls, and ramping up into quick, agonizing pulses. You begin to feel that feeling in your groin, the one you felt when you touched Daryl Dennis's cock, or when Trent Lipski put his hand in your pants, or when you hold your privates under the bathtub faucet. It's a tightness, a warmth, a wetness, and Santa must notice it too, because he smiles up at you. "Good girl. Let's find out what you taste like."
Suddenly his tongue is inside you, and you're moaning and arching your back and crying a little bit, because you're so scared but it feels so good. The elves grin and give you little kisses on your arms. Somewhere along the way Ginger has removed her pants, and she moans as her little elf pussy glides across your wrist. On the other side, Pepper's hands are on your pinky, lining it up with her exposed cunt, drooling as she pushes it inside.
When Santa comes up for air his glasses hang crooked on his face. "Hoooh, Susie, you must have the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted. Like caramel apples and candy canes. You really are one of the nicest girls who's ever lived."
You can't help but swell with pride at this praise. You've tried, really tried, and to know that it's paid off...it makes everything worth it. All the work, all the self-sacrifice, it wasn't for nothing. It's left a real, detectable mark on your body, and Santa can taste it in you. "Thank you, Santa," you manage to say.
"You're very welcome, Susie," says Santa. "And now that you're ready for me, I think it's time I made use of you." He straightens up, and flops his cock down on your stomach. It feels even bigger against your skin. You're afraid again. You know what's about to happen, and you're afraid it's going to hurt.
He throws his head back and moans with pleasure as the head of his cock parts your pussy lips. Your teeth grit and your heart pounds as you brace yourself for the pain, but it doesn't come. When he begins to push inside you, it's like he's stretching you out from the inside. There's no pain, only pressure, and increasingly, pleasure. He fills you up an inch at a time, expanding inside you, making you feel full in a way you never knew you could. You never should have doubted Santa. He knows what's best for you. He knows what you need.
"Ooohoho god, Susie," he says, picking up the pace now. "I knew you'd be worth it. I always know which good little girls will have the most delectable cunts. Girls like you, natural whores who make the choice to be nice, deny their nature to be sweet just for me...saving yourself for me...you know, somewhere deep down, that your little cunt is mine for the taking..."
He's right. He's completely right. When you fled the room after Daryl Dennis came in your hand. When you felt so guilty after Trent Lipski. What were you saying, implicitly? My holes are not for him. My holes are for Santa. You're moaning indiscriminately now, arching your back, your eyes rolling back in your head. The elves seem to be enjoying themselves, too; they moan squeakily as they ride your hands, apparently no longer worried about you trying to fight back. Santa's belly rolls across you with each thrust, and the heft of it is like a weighted blanket, comfortingly immobilizing. He grunts and moans with each thrust, the ball on his hat bouncing haphazardly. You feel something growing inside you, something wonderful and intense, something far better than the faucet on your clit, or Trent Lipski's fingers in your cunt. Your body is beginning to tremble, your legs bending and your toes flexing involuntarily. Suddenly you're afraid again; the sensation is too much, you can't handle it, you need to get away. Some animal part of your brain takes over; you're wrenching your hands free of the distracted elves, pulling yourself away from Santa's relentless cock, flailing your legs, kicking Santa in the solar plexus as he tries to grab at you. He doubles over, wheezing, and you know instantly you've done something terrible.
For a long moment the room is stock still. The elves seem just as frozen in fear as you are. Santa coughs, steadies himself against the bed. When he looks up, there's a darkness behind his eyes that wasn't there before. He clicks his tongue again, and the elves spring into action, grabbing you by the hair and turning you around so that your head hangs backward over the edge of the bed.
"I was going to give you a special present," says Santa, upside-down over you. There's a sick mirth in his voice that makes you shiver. "A Christmas present like no one's ever gotten before. But you had to go and be naughty." He says the word like it's the most vulgar epithet he can think of. "I was going to give you a son. My son. My heir. But my seed can't grow in a womb despoiled by filth." You feel a pressure inside you; it feels sort of like Santa's cock did, only harder, rounder, and growing. You lift your head to see what's going on down there, but it's all internal. It's getting painful now; you start straining to push it out. "The only thing your cunt is good for now," says Santa, a merciless twinkle in his eye, "is coal."
With a painful stretching sensation, a black mass crowns out of your cunt, spreading your pussy lips and stretching them wide as it pops out of you. It's a smooth, roughly spherical lump of coal, about the size of a baseball.
A leathery hand cups your chin and pushes your head back down. Santa's cock is inches from your face. "You're not going cocktease me, naughty girl. I'll get mine, one way or another."
Tears well up in your eyes as his cock parts your lips. You've never gotten coal in your stocking before, not once. You've spent your entire life being the nicest you could possibly be, and you had to go and ruin everything. You imagine what it would have been like to have Santa's seed growing inside you, your belly swelling with his son, your breasts inflating with peppermint-flavored milk. Instead you have his wrinkly, low-hanging scrotum slapping your face, and another lump of coal already forming inside your stupid, naughty cunt.
Santa forces his cock past your tongue, down your open throat. You gag, convulse involuntarily, but the elves hold you down, not to be caught slacking again. His belly drags across your face as he pulls back, and you spend a few seconds coughing and sputtering before he forces himself back down your throat again. Again, you gag, and when he pulls out this time you spit out a globule of thick saliva that collects around your nose and runs down your cheek. It goes like this for several more pumps: you gagging, struggling, crying, and him continuing to rape your throat anyway.
No, you think. Enough crying. You did something naughty, and now you pay for it. What do you always do when you catch yourself slipping into naughtiness? You're extra good to make up for it.
You steady yourself. Relax your throat. Santa is your king. Your god. Your everything. Your whole life, everything you do has been to please Santa. Now is no different. You start licking his shaft as it pounds away at your mouth. You can't see his face past his belly, but you can tell he likes it: the veins on his cock bulge under your tongue, and he groans with pleasure. Slowly, making sure the elves know you're not trying to fight, you lift your arms and grab the backs of his thighs, pulling him into you with each thrust. He takes the encouragement, picking up speed and enthusiasm. With one hand you begin to tenderly massage his balls, and with the other you stroke the base of his cock, the part that can't fit all the way down your throat. This is right. This is correct. My holes are for Santa, you think again. It's not for you to choose how he uses them.
You pop out another two lumps of coal, though you find that if you don't let them get too big it can be a somewhat pleasurable experience. You wonder how many nice things you'll have to do to stop them coming. You hope it isn't too easy. You moan as another one presses against your clit on its way out of you. You're desperate to rub yourself, but you can't take any attention away from Santa's beautiful, enormous, swollen, throbbing cock. That is your purpose.
With a long, shuddering groan, Santa presses his cock as deep as it will go. You feel hot cum shooting down your throat, collecting in your esophagus. He holds you there for a long time, your face in his overhanging belly, coal growing in your cunt. When he finally retreats you cough a huge glob of cum into your mouth. It tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg.
"Oh, little Susie," says Santa admiringly. "Even when you're being punished, you try your best to be nice." He sits next to you on the bed and begins gently massaging your throat. "It isn't enough to put you back on the nice list, but it's a start." He seems to think long and hard about something. "I'm a believer in second chances, Susie. I'll have to come back to this house next year for your brother anyway. Maybe I'll check in on you, and if you've been extra good..." he shoots you a twinkling wink. "I just might give you your special present after all."
Your head falls back in relief. You haven't squandered your chance! Santa is a merciful and loving god! The elves lay their heads on your breasts, petting your skin and cooing approvingly. The next thing you know, Santa is pulling up his pants, tucking in his undershirt, buckling his belt. He puts his hand on the knob of your bedroom door, but he turns back over his shoulder before he goes.
"Susie...you were right. Your holes are mine. No other cock, nor finger or tongue or any part of another person may penetrate them. But now that you're a woman...I believe it would be alright if you touched yourself, if you like. And know that I'll be watching." With that he's out the door, Pepper and Ginger in tow.
You get into a comfortable position in bed, head on your pillows, legs spread. You're slowly amassing a small pile of coal on your bedspread, and you're ready to go for another. You let this one grow a little while inside you, expanding until you can't take it anymore, then arch your back and close your eyes and furiously rub your clit as you birth it.
As a ball of coal the size of a small cantaloupe rolls to a stop on your sheets, your bedside clock clicks over to 12:01.
#r@pe fantasy#r@pe kink#cnc free use#cvmdump#cvmslvt#r@petoy#breeding toy#have you ever written a line that made you say 'jesus christ what is wrong with me'#anyway happy holidays to all you lovely filthy people out there
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I think it’s okay to take plots aslong as you don’t have everything word from word, I know the very popular one is the jake sullys daughters x miles quaritch
Okay, this is based on a previous request someone made for this scenario, so here you are :)
"Forbidden But Desired"
Recom Quaritch x f. Human Y/N
(Based off a fanfiction on AO3 called "Forbidden Fruit Tastes The Sweetest")
Masterlist
Summary: (Y/N is in Spider's position) Quarithc captures you and finds out you are the daughter of the man whose memories and DNA he has. Being the only person he feels any emotions too, Miles can't help but have you to himself.
Warnings: Smut, Angst, Non-con, somnophilia, indirect incest in a way?, penetration, unprotected sex, size-difference, age-gap, use of 'daddy',
Word Count: 4383
A/N: Sorry I'm so slow with uploading. I'll finish off the current requests, then I'll see if I even re-open them. Thank you for all the kind support though, it makes me really happy that so many people enjoy reading my work. Apology up ahead if this smut seems 'half-assed', I used to be more passionate about this
The room was cold. It was something you’d never seen or been in before. Even the lab back at home was not as cold and quiet as this. You could hear your own thudding heartbeat and every breath you took. The silence scared you.
Yesterday, the worst thing to probably ever happen to you happened. You were taken from your family. The Sully’s. When the humans left Pandora, you were left behind because you were just a toddler. Born here, you stayed here. Now, of course, it had been many many years since your biological parents had died. You found out at the age of 15 that the man responsible for this was, Miles Quaritch, was your father. But you felt nothing towards him and while hearing that definitely disturbed you, you weren’t upset by his death. In fact, you felt relieved he was gone. And you were ready to spend the rest of your life proving that you are nothing like him. Now, a few years later, the information has settled in and you’ve managed to work past it psychologically. Just because you’re related by blood does not mean you have his intentions. In fact, being related to him makes you more passionate about protecting Pandora from others like him. But as one of the few humans left on this planet, that would be difficult. You’re a ‘big girl’ now, as Jake says when he talks about your responsibilities. He trusts you fully and raised you along with his kids. They are family to you.
But a few months back, the Sky People were sighted again and we knew they were back. Hiding was currently our only option. Perhaps they had different intentions this time?
That thought died down the second a group of Avatars found you, Lo’ak, Tuk and Kiri in the forest. They must have come from the humans because of their clothes. They spoke English too. Their Na’vi was broken and hard to understand.
While trying to escape, you fell. You can’t remember what happened but you have vague memories of being carried by the Avatar who seemed to be leading the group. Then you woke up here, all alone. Your toes felt cold and your spine sent a shiver through you as you retreated into a corner of the room.
The Avatar from before had come into your room a few times already. He introduced himself and you refused to talk to him. You barely even looked at him. But when he told you his Avatar had the memories of the person you hated the most: Miles Quaritch; you couldn’t help but stare up at him in disbelief. Examining his features, you were quick to realise that he really did look like your so-called father. His presence intimidated you and you didn’t know how to feel about him. He didn’t seem like a threat to you. Your instincts weren’t ringing the alarm bells. You knew he wasn’t a good person, but there seemed to be some kind of string attaching the two of you. One that you both refused to acknowledge or act on.
Quaritch would tell himself he’s being all nice to you because he’s trying to get information out of you through manipulation. You would tell yourself that you hate him and that he’s just as bad as the human version, but somehow, deep down you asked yourself whether he could be different.
Miles was gentle with you, restraining himself from raising his voice when he questioned you and you would stay quiet. He started to bring you your food, hoping it would help you gain trust towards him. But he hated himself for trying to train you like some dog. Compared to him, you were a tiny creature. ‘A delicate little girl’ he thought, often finding himself admiring your features. Most of them were your mothers which seemed to only draw him more to you.
He also seemed surprised that you had grown so much. It obviously made sense because he knew that many years had passed since the war, but you were hardly the little girl he had so few memories of. You were almost a fully grown woman and he wished he could be proud of himself for it, but he knows he had no part in your life until perhaps now.
Today, things took a big turn. You lost track of time, not knowing whether you were sleeping through the days and crying during the nights or the other way around. It had been too long since you had seen the natural daylight or felt the fresh breeze of the wind. Being inside this awful room was so still and dead, it oftentimes made you feel ill.
You sat curled up in the same corner once more. Miles had visited you during the morning, giving you your food and water. While you slowly ate the dry food, he tried to talk to you about things that weren’t related to his mission. He was asking about you. But not because he needed it for work, but because he cared. Miles realised he cared about you on Day 3 when Ardmore had suggested to just ‘get rid’ of you because you weren’t cooperating. Not even her tortuous methods worked on you. The thought of that happening made him panic inside and he managed to persuade her to give him more time. Though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time he was getting for you, he knew he would rather disobey her orders and ‘set you free’ in the forest instead of leaving you in her hands.
He didn’t feel like your dad and he knew very well you didn’t accept being his daughter, but there was a deep emotional connection between the two of you that neither of you have with anyone else. Miles has been left to himself since he was brought back as an Avatar. Everything had constantly been strictly professional and work-related.
You are the only personal thing he has in his life. The one person he feels he can let his guard down in front of. The only real person he actually seems to enjoy being around. Also, the only person he misses when he’s alone and not in your room.
This is why he was spending his evening behind the mirrored glass, watching you softly cry in your little corner. You couldn’t see him because the glass only showed your reflection but he was there and he felt guilty for leaving you in such a state. You had been showered, cleaned and fed. But you weren’t happy and he could clearly see that. Miles knows he shouldn’t care as much as he does, but he can’t help himself. Something inside him longs for you and makes him want to protect you, even if it’s against his own people. He often feels like he needs to protect you from himself. After all, he’s the reason you ended up here. He knows he’s causing you your suffering, so he tries to think of ways to reduce it.
The large automatic door opens and he steps inside. You hold your breath, glancing up at him and holding back your tears. It annoys you when others see you at your most vulnerable. You don’t like feeling small, but oddly enough you don’t seem to care about that around Miles. His presence affects you differently. Almost as if you feel safe enough to cry and relax in his presence. Something your logical mind would clearly say no to.
He gazes down at your small figure. His sad eyes take pity on you.
“Come with me.” he says. The words were meant to be spoken as an order, but instead, his voice grew soft and became oddly comforting.
You stand up, not thinking twice about his words. Anything to leave this room. He seems pleased with your sudden cooperation so he leads the way, making sure you’re close by. There’s no need to handcuff you or restrict you in any other way. He can catch you in seconds if you attempt to run away. You yourself know you don’t stand a chance.
Quaritch leads you to a secluded hallway and uses a cyber key to unlock a door. The frame fits his size so you assume it’s made for Avatars. His large blue hand pushes the door open before his eyes glance back at you, silently telling you to go inside.
You listen, slowly walking inside and looking around once he switches the light on. It’s his room.
“I’m not gonna let them treat you like some kind of animal.” he says, clearly seeming angered at the thought of that.
“You did..” You reply, turning around. Your English isn’t at its best because you normally speak Na’vi. But you manage.
He seems affected by your words and his eyes lower in disappointment.
“Not anymore.” he says, promising that to you and to himself.
“They don’t get te’ have you anymore.”
His words confuse you.
“But you do?” I ask, wondering what changed in his head to make him suddenly almost hide me with him.
He doesn’t answer that. Miles doesn’t know how to. But he knows that if anyone gets you it's him. He has a reason for you to belong to him. You are emotionally connected and he’s the one that captured you. It only makes sense. But to tell you his thoughts won’t happen. You’re too pure to be told that you’re being kept by him. Words won’t tell you, but you’ll find out soon enough anyway. Perhaps through actions.
His room was split in two. The bedroom and what you assumed to be a bathroom. He pointed you towards the bed. You haven’t seen anything like it before but by looking at it, you could tell it’s soft, so you obeyed him and lay down.
He watched you settle down for a few moments, noting how innocent you were. Nothing about climbing into his bed seemed wrong or even slightly uncomfortable to you. He knows it’s because you live differently than he does, but it amuses him. You lay down so willingly, almost tricking him into wanting to lay down with you.
Quaritch managed to push his thoughts away, leaving you alone in the room as the bathroom door shut behind him. You didn’t mind anything at this point. You were just happy to not be cold and uncomfortable anymore.
Time seemed to fly by because of how comfortable you felt, wrapped in this large blanket.
You heard the same door from before creek open and Quaritch stepped back into the room. He changed clothes or rather removed some. But seeing him without a shirt on didn’t really faze you. After all, that’s how you’ve always seen all Na’vi. But Miles had much more muscle mass. You could probably stare at his torso all day if you had the chance. The feeling confuses you because you don’t do that, ever.
He walks up to the side of the bed, peering down at you once more. The sight comforts his cold heart. You look happy which means he’s managed to help you in a way.
You’re on the brink of falling asleep when you feel the mattress dip next to you as Quaritch lays himself down. The blanket is all around you which makes him chuckle.
“You can’t have it all, you gotta share, princess.” he grins, looking over to you. You open your eyes and look at him, not understanding what he means. So to help you out, he pulls the blanket from you which makes you frown. An expression that amuses him further.
“No.” you whine, trying to grab it back.
“Don’t worry, it’s big enough for both of us, kid.” he chuckles lowly. The blanket is now on him but you’re too far away for it to reach you.
“I want it back.” you plead, watching his eyes study you while he grins. Instead of responding with words, he lifts up a corner of the blanket and smirks at you, as if he were saying that you must lay there to get it.
You stay still for a few moments. Your mind is loading. But Quaritch isn’t feeling that patient today. It’s his room, his rules, so he reaches for you and pulls your right against him so that your back is pressed against his chest.
“What are you-”
“Sleepin’ in my bed comes with terms and conditions, sweet’eart.” he replies in his gruff, sleepy voice.
His large, heavy hands wrap around you, making it impossible for you to leave. But oddly, you don’t want to. His body warmth comforts you and you start to relax your tensed body.
Your eyes grow heavy and before you know it, you’re asleep.
Miles feels your soft breath fan against his arm and he feels like he’s cradling a kitten. You’re so small and beautiful to him, he knows he must be careful having you around him.
Being so close to you makes him realise how good you smell and how soft your skin and hair are. You just look so inviting, he’s having a hard time falling asleep. Instead, his heartbeat is starting to pick up speed, involuntarily riling him up. In the back of his head, he doesn’t feel wrong for handling you like this. Taking advantage of your innocence doesn’t seem that wrong to him right now. He would never hurt you, but he’s done worse than this, so it doesn’t seem to faze him. Especially when the slowly building arousal is starting to badly influence his common sense.
You’re so close to him and you’re his. He has a right to be with you. You belong to him. Why shouldn’t he be able to explore and use what’s his?
His thoughts go wild as he starts to hesitantly imagine all the things he could do to you. You’re just laying there, so relaxed and available for him, he can’t just say no. He slowly unwraps his hands from around you, keeping his eyes trained on your body to make sure you’re still asleep.
When you don’t move, he tells the guilty part of him that you want this. Even though he knows he’s fully taking advantage of your size and innocence, he’s too worked up to let this go. His shorts feel tight around him and his growing erection, but he doesn’t focus on that just yet. He wants to see you for you before he focuses on himself.
They didn’t change you out of your Na’vi clothes, so most of your skin is exposed to Miles anyway. His hands move your hair to the side, exposing your back and the small strings keeping your chest piece attached.
His heart is now racing. He can’t believe what he’s doing but he won’t stop. Not with you looking so pretty in his bed.
Quaritch props himself up on one elbow, while his free hand gently traces your body, running from your shoulder, along your side and to your hips.
He leans forward, massaging the soft flesh of your hip before pressing his lips against your warm skin. His eyes close and he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of the way you smell. Then, Miles pulls away, kissing you up to your shoulder blade. You’re so soft he feels the urge to just grab you and sink his teeth into your flesh but luckily for you, he doesn’t. Knowing you will probably shy away if you’re awake, Miles decides to explore you further by himself so that he can take his time toying with you instead of having to hold you down and keep you quiet.
Carefully, he slides the blanket off the both of you and sits up to properly look at you. He starts to fumble with the strings of your top, untying them and watching them loosely drape around your back. Miles’ large hand then finds your shoulder and he gently pulls you to him and turns you onto your back. He can’t wait much longer so he takes one string in between his fingertips and lifts your chest piece up, gently pulling it from your calmy sleeping body.
He draws a deep breath to stay composed while his darkened eyes drink in your bare chest. Such a pretty young thing you are, fully on display to him and only him.
He wants to devour you and drag his tongue and lips over every inch of your body, but he can’t risk waking you up just yet. He needs to see more before he can start touching you.
Miles slowly moves onto his knees, sitting by your legs. You’re wearing a loincloth like all other Na’vi. Something he hated before, not liking how they imprinted their culture on you. But now, he was almost thankful you weren’t covered in human clothes from head to toe.
He takes the material covering your crotch at the front and lifts it up to reveal that you aren’t actually bare underneath. You’re wearing something similar to panties except out of their woven fabric. Miles ignores the small beads and pattern of your loincloth and just hooks his fingertips under the sides of your waistband and slowly pulls it down your legs, teasing himself.
Once he lays eyes on your bare cunt Miles groans, struggling to stick to his plan of just looking. He knows now that he won’t be able to just admire you. He needs you for himself.
God, you’re just so beautiful he can’t help himself. His large hands gently wrap around your legs, parting them to fully expose your pussy to his predatory eyes. What a pretty little thing you’ve grown to be.
You look so tasteful, Miles has to touch you. His fingers trace an outline around your pussy, watching a small shiver overcome your body in your sleep.
‘So sensitive’ he thinks, wondering whether you’ve ever done anything sexual with someone before. But judging by the way your body seems to eagerly be responding to his smallest touches, he concludes that you really are as innocent as he thought. It also means he needs to approach this with a gentle hand, not to scare or hurt you.
His fingertip slips between your folds, gently massaging you while watching your reactions. You’re still asleep but your breathing seems to occasionally change patterns. Your warmth has Miles feeling excited to feel it around him, whether that will even end up working. He had to stretch you out for him first, knowing he could hurt you if he didn’t.
His fingertip continues to gently flick over your clit, rubbing you along your slit until he feels the flesh give in and he reaches your hole. Slowly, Miles starts to push his finger into you and a deep growl rumbles through his chest when he feels the slick start to form inside you. But you’re still so tight, which he loves but he knows he must relax your muscles to make this pleasurable for you. You're his little girl after all, he can’t have you crying in pain underneath him.
It’s his job to care of you.
He starts to work you open for him, gently pushing two fingers into you now. Miles lowers his head closer to you, noticing that your slick has started to seep out of your tiny hole. His fingers have spread it all over your pussy until it is now glistening and shiny, making his mouth water. He must taste you, to confirm you’re really his. His mouth has to explore and experience his girl.
He uses his tongue to pleasure you and take away the slightly uncomfortable feeling his fingers may be creating inside you. Miles’ eyes stay trained on your face as he peers up at you. You’re still asleep which amazes him.
Once your pussy has managed to engulf his third fingers, Miles can’t wait anymore. That’ll do. He keeps your legs resting open for him while he pulls his loose pants down to his mid-thigh, finally freeing his aching erection. He knows he won’t fit all of him into you. You’re too delicate and small, but anything will do for him at this point.
He wants to guide you through this experience because he knows you have no idea about these kinds of things.
Seeing himself as your closest person, he feels he has the right to be your first. To take away the virginity you were born with, and lead you through this step of becoming a woman. To ‘break you in’.
He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his shaft before pressing his tip against your heat. Miles hears you sigh in your sleep and your head turns to the other side, but your eyes stay closed.
He starts to rub himself against you, covering himself in your sweet wetness while letting his precum drizzle down onto your pussy. A shiver of excitement runs up his spine when he imagines how he’ll fill you up with his cum and permanently mark you as his. So that when he is finished with you, you’ll still be stained with his scent, making everyone who ever crosses you know that he claimed you.
With that thought, he starts to slowly apply pressure to your hole, gently pressing his tip against it until he feels it give way and start to let him in. Once his tip is almost in, he lets go of himself and positions himself above you. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your breathing has quickened, but you don’t seem to be awake just yet, so he continues to push himself into you.
He sharply inhales when he feels how tightly you’re squeezing him, but he can’t stop. Fuck it feels too good. His hips involuntarily buck forwards and he forces himself inside you until his tip hits your cervix. His eyes are closed in bliss, cherishing the feeling of being so close to you.
A small whimper makes Miles open his eyes and he meets your confused eyes, slowly waking up. You rub your eye, glancing around the room before looking up at him. He can see that you have no idea what is happening yet, so he slowly withdraws his throbbing length from inside you before pushing back inside. You clench your jaw, sucking in a pained breath and gasping.
“What’s happening?” You ask, trying to sit up but Quaritch restricts you from doing so by hovering over you. He dips his head down to your neck, placing soft kisses along your warm skin.
“Don’t worry, baby. You’re in good hands.” He whispers, starting to rhythmically move his hips against yours. Your mouth is parted in surprise. You feel him deep inside you and it‘s so unexpected, you don‘t know how to react.
“Miles-“ you whisper in a shaky voice, not sure whether you should ask him what he’s doing, whether to stop or why you weirdly don’t hate it.
“Shh, let me take care of you.” He whispers, nipping at your neck with his fangs while he continues to gently thrust in and out of you.
“Daddy’s little girl” he hums into your ear. “Be good and stay still for me.”
Your small hands go up to grip his shoulders and you give him an experimental push but Miles won’t budge even a bit. So instead, you hold on to him, but you’re not sure why.
One of his hands snakes down between your bodies and he starts to toy with your clit again, watching your confusion and pleasure mix. The stretch of him hurt you but somehow, that made it feel nice.
“How’s that feel, sweet’eart?” He asks, continuing to massage you with his rough hands.
Your innocent eyes find him while you try to think of an answer.
“Good…” you whisper, wondering whether he might stop now but Miles doesn’t.
“Mhm,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Do you know what I’m doin’?” He asks and his voice sounds gruff.
You shake your head ‘no’.
“Makin’ you mine.”
His words make you feel more excited and Miles notices this when your pussy clenches around him. A smirk appears on his face as he continues to drive himself into you. He realises your tight muscles are finally easing around him so he quickens his pace, seeming happy that your body has accepted him inside you.
“M’ gonna fill you up, baby.” He grunts, starting to slowly lose control of his steady pace. Your stomach feels fuzzy and it makes you spread your legs further, hoping it will make the good feeling stay. It does. Miles instantly receives your invitation and starts to rut himself into you
You hum in pleasure, not feeling too bad about this. Jake was a father to you. You barely knew this man, so it didn’t seem that wrong to you. Miles however knew some part of this was wrong, but he wasn’t related to you biologically, only through memories.
His fingers rub rough circles over your clit and you gasp before the bubble inside you bursts. Your body trembles and your muscles spasming around Miles help him over the edge and into bliss. His biceps and core muscles flex as he shoots his cum inside you, thrusting a few more times to make sure he’s stuffed you full with it as much as possible.
Once he starts to calm down, Miles takes a little pity on your small figure. He knows he took advantage of you, but he won’t dwell on it too much now. Instead, he lays himself down next to you, rotating your body with him so that you're both lying against each other and on your sides like before. He keeps himself halfway inside you to prevent his cum from dripping out of you. You need to stay full until morning. Then at least, he can replace the last load with a fresh one. Fill you up until your womb is full of him and until you can’t walk anymore. Maybe he’ll do this to you every night, just to make sure it’s clear to you and to Jake if he meets you again, that you belong to Quaritch and no one else.
Tag List: @ken-dala @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @numarusworld @number1gal @jatwow
#avatar smut#avatar movie#avatar#quaritch imagine#miles quaritch imagine#avatar quaritch#miles quaritch x reader#quaritch x reader#quaritch x you#quaritch fanfic#colonel quaritch#colonel miles quaritch#miles quaritch#miles quaritch smut#female reader#reader insert#recom miles quaritch x reader#recom quaritch#recom smut#recoms x reader#recoms smut#smut#fanfiction#fluff#fanfic#avatar imagine#avatar the way of water#big men#avatar way of water#atwow
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Dating Remus Lupin would include:
A/N: these were short. but i love them, should i do what it would be like, married to Remus? i feel like much wouldn’t change other then last names, age, and the sex UGHH ☺️🤭💕
Smut ahead! minors DNI!! 🤺🤺
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SFW:
Remus won’t admit it, but he LOVES those nicknames you give him. Rem, Remmy, etc. Only his friends can call him Mooney, it sounds weird to him when you do.
he loves you so much it actually hurts. Would do anything for you tbh.
He reads to you, you’ll lay on his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist, your legs tangled with each others, whispering the words to you.
He also likes when you read to him, he just likes your voice, likes listening to you talk about things you like.
loves when you get excited about stuff, whether it’s about your interests or something cool you learned.
Gets mad when ppl cut you off while your talking, or when ppl don’t listen to you.
“and then it got really interesting cause the main character went into this cave and-“ you said, excited to talk about your new book that you’ve been reading, when all of a sudden, someone cut you off causing your smile to fade and for you to drop your head.
“anyways.. like i was saying-“ they started to say before- “shut the fuck up. Don’t cut her off, mate.” Remus scoffed before he turned back to you, grabbing your hand and kissing your temple. “and what happened after the MC went into the cave, love?” he asked making you smile.
When your on your period, he definitely shares his chocolate with you(and only you) he cuddles with you and doesn’t leave your side.
During full moons, he kinda avoids around this time because he’s moody and doesn’t wanna hurt you.
After he gets back from a full moon however, he lets you take care of him because poor baby is so vulnerable and tired:(
“There ya go.. Relax rem, everything’s gonna be okay..” you coo, as you wipe the dried blood from his back, making him hiss at the warm water hitting his wounds.
“You’re so good to me, dove.” he whispered making you smile, “don’t know what i’d do without ya, you’re my guardian angel.” he praised making you blush and smile widely, kissing his lips softly.
:((
NSFW:
Remember how i said he’s moody during the full moon? Well that goes with being horny too 🤭🤭
When y’all have sex, it’s usually slow and passionate. But during the full moon, it’s fast and rough, not like you mind anyways.
“Oh.. Remmy!” you cry as he thrusted fast and rough into you. “shh, it’s alright dove..you can take one more f’me, yeah? My pretty girl can handle it.” he praised as he rammed into you making you moan out.
“My pretty girl- oh, my sweet, sweet girl.” he praised, gripping onto your hips, leaving his finger prints indented into your flesh.
He’d def feel bad about “hurting you” after the full moon ends. So he’d make it up too you. :)
his tongue over lapping at your cunt had you arching your back and whining.”such a pretty cunt, dove.. pretty, just like you.”He said, gripping onto your thighs to keep you down.
If he’s feeling up to his sometimes, he’ll let Sirius get a taste, if your comfortable with it of course. He wants to show you off, especially when it comes to showing people what he gets to fuck.
Such a soft!dom but as his moments where he’s a hard!dom
remember how i said he likes to read to you? he loves to read book lines into your ear while he fucks you from behind 🦋🦋
Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.
#the marauders era#the marauders x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader smut#remus lupin smut#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fluff#remus x reader#marauders#marauders fluff#the marauders smut#the marauders#god i love him#my little princess#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin is my baby girl.#fluff#smut
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Knock you up.
word count: 2.2k
pairing: perv!delusional!Eddie Munson x innocent!bratty!reader
warning: CNC, hair pulling, choking, stalking, perving, angry/hard sex, whining, defenseless, mention of drugging reader, non-con-face cuming while sleeping, age gap, etc.
WE DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY COPIES OF OUR STORIES!
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3rd person pov
God knows Eddie is a sick bastard. Never a day in his life since 9th grade has he not jerked off to some random thought or woman. Usually, it would be y/n. The girl he’s been crushing on since she started high school.
Munson was a senior when y/n arrived at the school. She was the cutest little thing he’d ever seen. The way she dressed, the way she looked and all the way up to the way she acted was perfect to him.
She wasn’t a child, and she was pretty mature for her age. The only thing about her that makes Eddie a creep, is how innocent she looks.
Y/n seems like a girl who wouldn’t drink unnecessarily, have unnecessary sex, miss classes or school, or do anything Eddie might have done his first year in school.
The innocent girl is now a senior and in the same class as Eddie. He’s failed 3 times, but this year has to be his last. He has to go wherever y/n plans to. He can’t just let her go.
All the years of walking past y/n and occasionally hanging out with her, he could never get her to feel as comfortable around him as he wanted.
Maybe that was his fault though, because he’d always pressured the poor girl to smoke with him, knowing she’d knock out every time.
He hadn’t used her body like he’d dreamed of when she would be knocked out, but he definitely did jerk off until he came on her face. He’d slip her tiny skirts up to take a smell of that cunt.
He could never get passed that point. Not even to free her tits or maybe eat her till she cums because he’d cum just from the smell of her.
After all these years of uncomfortable situations, y/n decided to tell Eddie, their senior year, that she was moving in different directions of friends. She offered to hang out occasionally, but he didn’t like that.
Eddie threw a fit and her neck ended up wrapped in his hand. He said some very nasty things, rather that was calling her “My fucking slut,” or saying “If you keep makin’ me wait, I’ll take it from you,”.
This was a couple of months ago, and since then, y/n hasn’t spoken a word to him. She can’t look at him or talk about him. He’s done too much.
“Y/n, just talk to me! I-It’s been so long,” Eddie stalked behind y/n as she walked through this surprisingly big school. “I don’t want to, Eds,” she said as she began walking up the stairs.
“Please, princess, I’m sorry, okay? I really am, I just- I just needed you,” Eddie said, aching that his baby girl couldn’t even look into his eyes. “Why do you need me? You’re like 21 Eddie. I just turned 18,” y/n rolled her eyes as she hit the top of the stairs.
Of course, y/n had a crush on Eddie since she was a freshman, but over time, she’s met other people. She’s never gone far because she’s had this voice in her mind saying Eddie. She could only be for Eddie.
Now that her feelings died down, she’s been getting better with letting these college boys make out with her. Maybe even finger her, but she’s never given to them or had sex.
Eddie of course knows about this, which makes him furious. She’s never told him about her feelings, but it’s not hard to see a shy girl.
“C’mon baby, don’t be like that. We both know you love that. I’m mature and strong and can take so good care of you,” Eddie kept following the girl. She’s just trying to get to her class. She can’t have this conversation right now.
“I don’t need to take care of Eddie! I’m an adult,” y/n grew annoyed. “You’re not a fucking adult! You’re still going and need protecting,” Eddie’s delusional thoughts got out.
“Fuck off, Munson,” y/n finally got out. Eddie’s face and attitude about this situation, change right after her response to him pouring his heart out. This fucking brat.
Eddie quickly ran up behind y/n and grabbed her, causing her books to fall out of her hand. “Eddie, what the hell! Get off of me!” She yelled as she fought. They went at him for quite some time, but sadly, her bag ended up on the floor and she ended up pinned against the lockers by her neck.
“Calm down!” Eddie huffed in her face. As much as he loves the fight, he wants to set her straight. “Eddie, stop,” y/n whined as she kicked, but that didn’t bother him. “Stop it, y/n,” he moved his head inches away from her face, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s just acting up!
Eddie pulled her off of the locker and then slammed her back into it, knocking the wind out of her. “You do this do yourself. It’s all you! If you would just shut up, keep your head down, and listen, you’d be fine,” Eddie’s mind started racing.
“But no. You walk around her, actin’ single and open when you’re not. I fucking calmed you! I came on your pretty little face every chance I got. You’re marked,” Eddie spilled his secrets.
“N-No,” y/n didn’t believe him. “Oh, yes, and I think you I would. Just look at me, baby,” Eddie said as he began slowly grinding himself on her. She moved her face to the side after his lips touched hers, but that didn’t stop him from moving back into her face.
“You do something to me, and you know it. That’s why you let me hang out with you at such a young age. You’re a fucking tease, and you’ve been teasing me for far too long,” Eddie said
Seconds later, Eddie threw the poor girl to the ground. She’s been such a brat. She needs to be taught. He can’t go through this life of not stuffing her like one of her stuffed animals.
“Eddie, we’re at school!” Y/n yelled whispered as she tried backing up, but he soon got on top of her. “Good. Let them watch me take your innocence. Let them see that the freak is the only one to fill this bratty cunt,” Eddie whispered in her ear before tugging at her clothes.
Eddie turned the poor girl around, hurting her knees, but he couldn’t care less. He’ll take care of her when he takes her home.
Y/n begged, hoping no one would hear them and come out to see this mess, but him on the other hand. He wants that. He wants them to watch her so corrupted on his cock. They need to see.
“Please, Eddie,” y/n’s eyes began to water. She should have known this would happen. She’s even dreamt and prayed for something like this to happen years ago, but now, she doesn’t know. Does she still feel the same?
“Fucking Christ, y/n. You’re such a fucking hassle,” Eddie forced the weak girl's skirt to her mid-through. “These fucking panties don’t make this better,” Eddie chuckled, seeing how puffy her cunt was. Her pretty wet cunt.
“I’m gonna fuck into this pretty thing while you keep it down. All you gotta do, baby, is keep it down,” Eddie whispered in the girl's ear as he slowly pulled her panties to the side.
He’s always wanted to fuck her in her uniform. After she made the cheer team, he just had to fuck her in this outfit.
“D-Don’t touch there,” y/n stuttered as Eddie reached into his jeans. “Oh, baby — You know I’ll do more than just touch you,” Eddie stroked his already so painfully hard cock. So painful.
“I’m gonna rip you in two in these high school hallways,” Eddie said before spitting in his hand to get himself wet. She’s wet enough, but he can’t take his time fucking her. He’s already around the corner from cuming.
“You ready baby?” Eddie asked, which remained y/n, she didn't even fight anymore. “No!” She began moving and giving Eddie a he’d time, once again hoch pissed him off quickly.
“Fuck, y/n! You’re so damn hardheaded!” Eddie grabbed the fighting girl's head, making her arch her back. “Ow!” Y/n whined. Eddie brought a heavy hand to her ass, slapping it a few times to shut her up.
“If you keep fuckin’ with me, I’ll give you a harder time at my house. Trust me, you will not handle a cock in your ass,” Eddie threatened. The girl didn’t completely stop fighting back, but she did calm down. She still whined, knowing she couldn’t stop this. Apart from her doesn’t want to stop it.
“Good girl,” Eddie Said as he slowly began pushing into the whining girl. “Agh, fuck! Fuck, you’re s-so fucking tight,” Eddie slightly moaned as he got deeper and deeper into her.
Y/n’s legs began to shake as the taller dude began thrusting his hips. “Yeah, just like that,” Eddie slowly moved in and out of y/n as she shook uncontrollably with her sweetest whines.
“So fucking wet, baby. I could drink you for days,” Eddie said in her ear as her clot began to swell. “Eddie,” she whined, eyes rolled back and fucked out like he wanted her. He’s waited so long to see his princess like this.
“Mhm, you like it? Like went Eddie fucks his cock into your innocent pussy?” Eddie kept his mouth so close to her ear as she slowly began rocking her hips back. “Yeah — So fucking desperate for a cock. Always knew you were a slut. Fuckin’ told ya,” Eddie spoke as he sped up.
“Aah!” Y/n moaned, trying to keep herself down as her cunt got louder and Eddie’s thrust got more aggressive. He wants to risk it all. “C’mon, baby! Let it out. They then hear you,” Eddie encouraged as he pulled her head back more.
“Let it out!” He demands with a slap on her bare ass. “No!” Y/n still thought she had a say in anything. “You’re gonna regret it,” Eddie growled in her ear before pushing her face to the ground.
The huge man kept a hand on her face, causing her back to arch then grabbed her waist. With that, he began to fuck into her inexperienced cunt like a fuck doll. He has to do it. He gave her no choice.
“Fuck, Eddie!” She cried out as her ass clapped back into Eddie’s. “Yeah,” Eddie growled, losing control of the way he fucks into her. He almost forgot she hadn’t done this before.
“Want me to slow down? Is my cock too much for your fucked our cunt?” Eddie asked as he leaned closer to her face. “Want daddy to hurry up and breed this little pussy, and make you his little girl forever?” Eddie asked Y/n, knowing she couldn’t respond back. He’s so good at this.
“Yeah, I know you do. You wanna be trapped with me. Want me to knock you up on school grounds for everyone to see,” Eddie felt himself getting close as y/n whined at the twitch of his cock.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie’s voice cracked as he slammed into her cunt to make her feel it all. She didn’t know how, but just at that, she came. She couldn’t hold it anymore. She tried her best, but she had to let it go.
“Ah huh! Ah huh!” Eddie’s thrusts stuttered until he finally buried himself so deep, he was sure she’d become pregnant. “Oh fuuck!” Eddie groans loudly, surprised that no one has come out yet.
“Oh my god,” y/n moaned as her juice leaned all over her skirt. “Oh fuck,” Eddie chuckled, feeling his cock twitching in her walls. He knows he’s not as empty as he wants to be. As soon as he takes her home, he’ll empty the rest.
“Fuck,” y/n whined low as Eddie slowly pulled out and y/n’s lower body slumped on the ground at how weak she was. Eddie admired the cum leaking out of her plumped cunt. He even thought about eating her out.
“P-Please,” y/n aimlessly said, so fucked out, she will not be able to walk. “I know, baby. It’s a lot. But remember how bad you were. You don’t get to rest today,” Eddie said in her ear.
Eddie fixed y/n and himself up before pulling y/n to her feet slowly. “You’re coming home with me, okay?” Eddie asked. “Okay,” y/n said low, wanting all this taking care of that he mentioned. “Good answer, princess,” Eddie kissed the girl's cheek.
After coming home from a long fuck session in the middle of their school hallway, Eddie couldn’t help himself. He let hit sweet girl rest next to him on his bed after he cleaned her up.
She begged him too much for him to say no. Y/n surpassingly gave him a peck, causing his eyes to water. He finally made it. All the days he’s stalked, perved, and even punished her not too long ago, he made it to the point he wanted to get to. Which is with her forever.
#18+#18+ content#18+ fic#18+ minors dni#18+ only#18+ post#smut#pure smut#cnc k!nk#eddie the freak munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#perv!eddie munson#delusional#delulu#stranger things smut#stranger things#dom!eddie munson#innocent!reader#choking#rough cnc#rough kink#roughfuck#rough daddy
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I haven’t stopped thinking about that Hobie baby fever fic ever since you posted it. Many thoughts. Many thoughts many many thoughts and ideas many many little ideas.
You have people saying ‘Oh good luck lol kids are SO hard!’ ‘He’s definitely gonna regret it you’re gonna be a single parent’. But Hobie’s probably been WISHING from a young age he could be a parent, the only thing he didn’t prep for is your little one grabbing his wicks and him nervously calling out “Luv, luv help me LUV-”. He learnt very quickly to tie his hair back when he’s holding them. If you have a little girl, everyone always thinks it’s you who’s done her hair for the day or for school. NOPE. Hobie’s been with her in the bathroom since 6 in the morning putting her in braids and buns. Your baby is his whole world and he’ll be DAMNED if he won’t be the absolute best dad EVER ‼️
Oh my godddddddddd my ovaries went 💥💥
The Pitter Patter of Little Feet Pt. 2
Dad!Hobie x Wife!Reader
TW/CW: A lil angst at the start, Fluff. So much fluff.
A/N: I'm basing all my baby prep off of the things I had to do for my nephew. I am unsure the proper care that goes into textured hair but I hope I can do it justice!
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
You remember what people told you, how "someone like him" wouldn't be able to handle being a dad, how he'd leave you. The words said by your mother hurt the worst, the things she said about Hobie. Your father was no better, especially when they found out you two agreed to get pregnant before anything else.
Especially after you put the positive pregnancy tests, the test results from blood work with your doctor, and some baby booties on the table as a surprise.
It was supposed to go like you imagined, right? Happy jubilant crying, hugs, congratulations...
You got the exact opposite, with your parents criticizing everything about your boyfriend, the father of your unborn baby. The man you loved.
"What kind of father would he be? A bad one, just look at how he's dressed! You think he can help dress your child?" Your mother scoffed. "And those awful piercings! I bet your baby will be running around with holes in their face by the time they're six!"
"And what about a job? You can't be the only one to support your family. He's a man, he needs to step up and quit it with that "punk lifestyle". It's not suitable to raise my grandchild in!" Your father grunted.
After your baby was born, you cut them off and had a courthouse wedding, and a little get-together with his friends from the Spider Society. A mix of a reception and baby shower.
Joke's on them! Hobie was an amazing father, and an amazing husband. The moment he found out you two were having a little girl?
Pink. And. Purple. Her style would be all punkish of course.
He got stuffed instruments that crinkled for when she would teethe, some guitar-shaped rattles...
And he would never admit it, but Hobie actually cried, when he got to hold your baby girl for the first time. You guys named her Selena. Selena Brown.
She came out angry, wailing, as if she was pissed off at the world she had only been in for a few moments.
"Already got the spirit! Make a big noise, a big statement. That's my girl!" Hobie laughed, playing with her tiny feet.
After that, Hobie was very attentive. From you working from home, he would help. He'd fetch the breast pump when you needed it, would prep the bottles, and keep Selena occupied while you worked. He would even take the late shifts at night to make sure you got your rest.
As Selena got bigger, her hair became a bit unruly, and at times you had no idea what to do with it. Hobie? He came in clutch. The proper ties, hair masks, grease (if needed), oils, brushes...
The trick was getting the rambunctious one year old to hold still while her father attempted to tame the poofy mass.
It was one day, you got up from your computer only to hear Hobie shout your name.
"Babe! Babe!" He cried out, grunting.
Of course, you made a dash for the living room, only to see your husband with your toddler. Apparently she had moved behind him, her hands clinging to his shirt to help keep her balanced as she bounced on her little chubby feet.
Her big brown eyes gleamed as she giggled, her bottom teeth poking out in the most adorable way.
Well... it wasn't from where Hobie sat.
Selena's little fist had a tight hold over one of his wicks, tugging his head back sharp.
"A lil' help, luv?!" He winced, hissing at you as you covered your face to try and keep from laughing.
"Come on, Bug, give daddy's poor head a rest. He's got enough problems with that mess he calls hair." You tease, scooping up your little girl.
But... even though her grip loosened, Hobie's wick stayed attached to her hand.
"Oh... ohhhhh..." You said, clicking your tongue.
"What! What!" Hobie groaned, trying to tug his head free.
"You made me have a spider baby."
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Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader
Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.
Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?
Smut n fluff
Please
Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full
Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader
Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)
This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.
"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.
"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.
"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.
"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.
"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."
"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.
"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.
"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."
"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.
"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.
"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."
"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.
"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.
"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.
"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."
"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.
"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."
"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"
"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.
“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.
“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.
I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.
“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.
“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.
“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.
“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”
“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.
“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.
“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”
“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.
“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”
“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.
“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”
“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.
“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.
“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.
“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”
“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”
“My…hands?” He says slowly.
“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”
“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.
“They’re big,” I whisper.
“And what does that make you think about?”
“Please don’t make me say it.”
“No, no I want to hear you say it.”
In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”
“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.
“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”
“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.
“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.
“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”
“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.
“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.
“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”
“I understand completely, sir.”
“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.
“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.
“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.
“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.
“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.
“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”
“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.
“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”
“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”
“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.
“I understand!” I blurt out.
“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.
“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.
“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”
“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.
“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.
“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”
“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”
“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.
“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.
“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.
“Green,” I say quickly.
“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.
I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.
“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.
“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.
“Try again, sweetheart.”
“Sorry. Daddy.”
“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.
“Daddy, people will see.”
“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.
“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”
“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”
“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”
“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,
“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.
“Daddy, please, too much.”
“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.
I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.
“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”
“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”
“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”
“Okay, let me grab a condom.”
“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.
“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.
“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”
“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.
“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.
I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.
“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.
“How long was I out?” I say softly.
“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.
“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.
“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”
“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.
“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.
“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”
“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”
“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.
“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.
“Good, because I don’t want you to.”
#hotch x y/n#hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch#hotch x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#hotch smut
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Dirty things Neteyam does that you like
[He do or he does ? Hm, nevermind...
Neteyam is aged-up unless stated otherwise]
Being kind. Like I'm sorry but it's a big turn on. He smiles to everyone, helps everyone, he is honest, fair, brave; he always listen carefully to everyone requests and do his best to fulfill them. He's a sweetheart and he has a pretty smile. So why are you aroused every time you see him help an old Na'vi ? Why are you horny everytime you see him help his mother cook ? Because you knoooow. You know that the boy isn't like this when it's just the two of you. Don't get me wrong he's a darling with you, always helping you around, carrying you on his back and making you laugh. But when it comes to more...suggestive things, he's MEAN. I just know that he is a mean dom. The kind of guy who will make you cry after teasing you endlessly without giving you his dick and then fake sympathy. So when you see him being nice to everyone you just remember how mean he can be when he is fucking you.
"Oh, my love, crying over my dick. You poor baby."
"My sweet girl, do you want it ? I'm gonna give it to you. Or not..?"
That boy love to pull something while fucking you. He ALWAYS have something in his hand. Like that one time where he was pulling your tail while fingering you, or when he was pulling your hair while you two were making out. Oh ! And when he was pulling your arms while fucking you from behind - this one isn't your favorite but he really likes it. He needs to pull on something because your reactions are so cute ♡ You whimper, pant, moan, and sometimes, when it's too much, you cry. He loves those sounds and he loves the fact that it brings him a feeling of power (?) ♡
"What ? Am I pulling it too hard ? But your tail was practically begging to be held, it was wagging so frantically."
"Love it when you're so malleable."
PRAISES. You should love praises. I just KNOW that Neteyam is the kind of boyfriend who will tease you as if he was degrading you but yet still praises you to no end. Sweet nicknames between two laughs, comforting touch between two rough fuck. The man would LIVE to let you know how pretty you are and how good you are to him, letting him fuck you anywhere and everywhere. You would definitely love hearing him telling you how good you are sucking him or how well you take his dick. It helped with your self consciousness and he knows it. You just love being called a good girl ♡
"Ah, you're doing so good, my perfect and pretty little mate..."
"You love being praised, don't you ? I can feel the way you're clenching around me whenever I call you my good girl."
Last but not least, Neteyam fucks you everywhere. Like, at this point it's concerning. It's been a recurrent topic in my Neteyam pics but yeah, daddy's son can fuck you everywhere. There's two reason; First, he's horny and you are pretty, can you blame him ? I said it before, pussy drunk Neteyam is a must. Like just imagine that you are in the middle of a feast and suddenly he's all about 'nice to see y’all but we gotta go for a bit, we'll be back'. You follow him because he asked you to, but turns out he just wanted to fuck you behind some rock or tree. Or you would be training with the Tsahik when he would come, all smiles, and gently ask if he can take you because 'you need to eat something and rest a bit'. Rest what ? He just wanted to suck on your breast with his fingers deep inside of your cunt. The second reason is because he wants to know how long his 'nice' act would last. He would love acting all innocent in front of his people when he knows that he's just going to fuck you somewhere not so private. How long until someone notice what's behind his smile ? You two bet on it.
"Can I borrow her ? We have some unfinished business..."
"I love seeing their face when they think that we are going to do some leader things when in fact you're just going to open those pretty legs of yours to let me do my things."
"What about the place that we saw last week ? We can leave during tonight's feast to visit it." "..." "You know me so well my love. Yes, I just want to see you on your knees in the middle of the beautiful flowers."
"I think that Dad is suspicious. He will be the first to figure it out." "..." "No way, my mom don't know, wanna bet on that ? If you're wrong you will not cum for a whole week."
"Qu-Quiet love or else they will know that I'm ravaging you. They are barely a few feet away you know ? You know what- Ah- Keep moaning, I want them to ear."
[Next will be about dislikes !
The other way around —> Dirty things you do that Neteyam likes
Feedback is appreciated ♡]
Masterlist
#avatar the way of water#avatar way of water#avatar 2#avatar 2022#avatar smut#atwow#atwow smut#atwow x reader#neteyam#neteyam headcanons#neteyam x reader#neteyam smut#atwow headcanons#x reader#smut#neteyam sully smut#golden's brain is loading
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